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comatosebunny09 · 3 months ago

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carpe noctem [ climax ] | sylus

— summary: sylus drags you onto a mission with him for old time’s sake. and you slide into familiarity, almost like there isn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driving you apart. — cw: explicit sexual content, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, mentions of blood, profanity, mentions of pedophilia, mentions of human trafficking, minor character death, men with guns, reader has a shitty past, self-destructive behavior, reader doing her assassin duties, a little romance sprinkled in between, mdni — notes: inspired by mr. & mrs. smith. thank you so much for reading, lovely! [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5 | part 6 ] — now playing: cariño - the marías — obligatory tags: @withering-dream @an-ever-angry-bi @midiplier @abbylee0710 @picnicthegarden @karespocketboyfriends @chrissy26 @delulusimps @glamouroki @midiplier @celestemcbrim @everywherenothere @ari-shipping-stuff @beewilko @alexhenituse @nim-rose @moonlight-inthe-sea @sunnyf4lls @himiko-omikami @inkonparchment @sillyfreakfanparty @regandoesthings @im-in-different-universe @ravensheart18 @alyyylog @corvid007 (sorry if i missed anyone.)

He wanted to make love. You wanted to fuck.

He wanted you, all tender and pliant beneath him, his name hinged in your throat. He wanted to worship you, to uncover the erogenous zones of your body piece by piece, and to expose you like forgotten treasure buried deep beneath rotting ruins.

But you reasoned you didn’t have time. You were in a hurry—a hurry for what, exactly, you couldn’t pinpoint.

Perhaps you were rushing to feel something, in a hurry to please and to feel useful as you tore his shirt from his shoulders, his body rigid and searing between the thick of your thighs. Pleasing is all you know, serving embedded in your chemical makeup, no room to pursue your own desires.

Your mouths came together so abruptly that your teeth clashed. The counter of his kitchen island was glacial and tacky beneath your thighs. You’d barely divested yourself of your coat before you drew him into an ardent dance of tongues, his abs twitching beneath the artful crawl of your fingers. You tugged at the give of his pants, quietly yet vehemently demanding he take them off. He drew back, wild-eyed and hair mussed, eyes drowsy with want.

“We should slow down,” he sighed, hot and open-mouthed where your shoulder met neck. Blistered down to your collarbone where he nipped, hands roosted on your hips, thumbs soothingly cruising over juts of bone.

It made you sick, his tenderness. You weren’t glass and didn’t deserve to be handled like it.

You chuckled something husky and bitter, tossing your thoughts to the wolves. Your fingers raked through his hair. Grabbing the scruff of his neck, you brought his mouth back to yours, trapping any further words of protest in his throat.

You didn’t want to think. Didn’t want complications. Just wanted to be driven by sensation, tucking your inhibitions into the darkest hulls of your mind.

You’re a bit of a masochist. You enjoy punishing yourself for misdeeds you’ve constructed in your mind—having feelings for your boss, secretly envying your friend. Your use is slowly running its course, and you’ll one day be thrown to the wayside.

You figure you don’t deserve kindness. Sensitivity. You don’t deserve a slow love, the steady creep of an orgasm bubbling in your stomach, evoked by the sluggish grind of hips, words of affirmation whispered like the sweetest supplication into your ear.

No.

You deserve to be used, lusted after. You’ve spent most of your adult life with that mentality, your past having engraved that under your skin. You’ve been a weapon for as long as you can remember. A tool. Loveless. Which is why, when the gentleman who’d frequented Lux wanted to take his time with you, you declined, opting for something more ragged and intense.

He took you hard and rough on his counter at your behest. Left you open, bare, laughing, battling to get your breath under control. You stayed the night to humor him. Let him hold you as he stroked the sweetest compliments of all with ghostly fingers into your skin as the stars in the sky gave way to the gentle spill of sun rays.

You crept out of his arms and apartment once he sank below the misty shawl of sleep. He’d inquire about your whereabouts later—ask why you didn’t stay. You rarely did. Tonight, you felt weak.

You’d ignore him until you next needed him. When the urge to forget sunk its talons into your chest, curling around your heart and squeezing.

You had a mission to prepare for. Sylus’ name lit up your notifications, cryptic as ever with minimal words. You’d deal with your feelings later.

There was work to be done.

Besides, you didn’t even remember his name.

How could you face him when you’d uttered someone else’s name while he was deep inside you?

—

You pay for your escapades in the form of pretty petals of blue and green blooming on your neck the following night. Bite marks.

You rub at the raw skin for the nth time, a hiss forced through grit teeth. Maybe he was a little too rough. Concealer works wonders, coupled with your glamor. Still doesn’t take away the sting, but you suppose the pain is your punishment for being weak.

You stretch, yawning. Shift until the leather of the car’s backseat squeaks. You sense his eyes on you in your periphery, boring down to the marrow. The fine hairs littering your body stand on end. You maneuver again, leant against the door, cheek propped on your knuckles, avoidant as ever.

You try to focus on the scenery unfolding beyond the car’s windshield. Powdery stars spilled over a deep violet canvas. The red glare of brake lights every so often as you approach another vehicle. Try to focus on the driver’s fingers readjusting on the steering wheel, on the fixed hum of the engine, and how it intermingles with the gentle bumps on the road. Home in on your breathing and the thunderous drum of your heart. He’s been watching you like this since you eased into the car—Sylus.

You get this creeping suspicion he wants to say something. Like he knows all your secrets, having perused through them like they’re the yellowed pages of a book. Nah. He wouldn’t know what kind of night you had. He wouldn’t care. You’re a grown woman, capable of making your own mistakes and reaping the repercussions of them. He has other things on his mind—other people.

Another yawn escapes you. You curse yourself for not grabbing coffee on your way out. Too busy pouring yourself into your dress, painting your face with makeup, and meticulously tucking your weapons away.

“Long day?” says Sylus. You jolt the slightest bit at the grit of his voice. How it breaks up the silence and sets your stomach alight with dragonflies. Fabric shifts. His exhale is weighted beside you, thigh brushing yours as he spreads his legs, so very big in comparison to the backseat.

You force a smile, smoothing out the wrinkles of your dress. “You could say that.”

You feel the shift in his gaze. There’s a whisper of bitterness in his tone when he next speaks. “Maybe you should spend less time pursuing your hobbies at night and more time sleeping.”

This time, you do turn. Cut your eyes to him, mouth tugged up with confusion. His expression reads passivity. Mouth scrawled into a rigid line, scarlet eyes fixed to yours, unrelenting. Something’s off about him tonight. You sensed it in the brevity of his call when he phoned you to outline your mission—you’d be accompanying him tonight to a banquet. A glittering, amenable doll on his arm, smiling pretty like murder wasn’t rotting your mind. You’d lure your target away to be snuffed out like a candle’s flame. Slip out without drawing suspicion, and the world would be rid of another shit stain.

He quirks a brow, wordlessly challenging you. No customary smirk comes this time. Just the air weighted with something tense. Your throat clicks when you swallow. You opt for obliviousness, laughing it off despite the gnarling feeling in your gut worming its way up your throat. Despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to fire back. You’re reading too much into things. He’s being his usual, detached self, and not because he knows you were up to no good last night.

Right?

“Maybe I should.”

The tendons in Sylus’ neck pull, jaw tensing. For a moment, he looks like he wants to keep prodding. But he instead averts his gaze when the driver chimes in, announcing you’ve arrived at your destination.

The venue’s tawny spotlights dance over the windshield as the car crawls to a stop. People donned in expensive formalwear line the sidewalk, animatedly chatting as they await entry. You take some time to admire the historic, art deco architecture before your door opens, the crisp evening air spilling in and fanning over your skin.

You look up when Sylus offers you his arm. His expression softens considerably, contrasting the wet cat he was moments ago. There’s a hint of a smile twitching his lips. He almost looks boyish, and you can’t help taking him in. He’s dressed to the nines, tucked in a three-piece tux, bow tie meticulously tied, hair swept up into a pretty, alabaster coif.

Your lips spasm. You peel yourself from the seat, gathering up the trail of your dress. Twine your arm with his, allowing him to shepherd you through the throng of people. It almost feels like old times, their voices petering to a hush when they catch sight of you. They part like a school of fish as the pair of you make your way up the steps leading to the venue’s doors.

“Stay frosty,” you joke to dispel your nerves, standing before the heavy, double doors, waiting for the attendees to open them.

Sylus snorts, his arm flexing beneath the possessive clutch of your fingers. He pinches the bridge of his nose. And the exasperation in his voice makes your eyes crinkle with mirth. “Please, never say that again.”

You slide into familiarity thereafter, almost like there wasn’t a wedge in the form of a beautiful young hunter driven between you.

—

She said something curious to you when you arrived at the airport earlier—Ms. Hunter. You had the time to spare. You wanted to ask why she requested you drive her instead of Sylus. But you didn’t push it, figuring she had her reasons. Maybe she didn’t have the energy for his nagging, his fretting. She should be so lucky.

She’d be gone for a couple of weeks, swept up in the grueling task of protecting researchers in the mountains from Wanderers. A part of you felt sorry for her. Worried. But she was a big girl. If she could smack Sylus around in Kitty Cards, she could dodge a few teeth and claws, no problem.

“Need help?” you asked over your shoulder, the SUV’s engine humming idly at the airport’s drop-off point.

She smiled at you from the backseat. “I got it!” she chirped as she fetched her oversized suitcase from the floor.

She rounded the vehicle, bowing to your level at the window. Up close, her smile looked more mischievous than usual. Smile lines bracketed her honey-dipped eyes as she murmured, “Be nice to Sylus. He’s trying, ya know?”

You pinned her with a quizzical look, your mouth working around a retort. She left before you could get a word out. You watched her slip through the crowd of travelers milling about before she was out of sight, leaving you to mull over what the hell that meant.

—

It starts to make sense as time passes what she meant.

When you’ve gorged yourself on conversation and champagne, nestled between politicians, CEOs, socialites, and people of the like. Fickle, spewing gossip you can’t be bothered to keep up with.

Sylus rarely leaves your side, only slipping away to chat up old colleagues or to procure you more bubbly. Always has a hand, scorching and possessive, at the small of your back, or an arm slung about your waist, drawing you into the safety his body exudes. He doesn’t correct anyone when they address you as his, giving you a subdued, amused look when you work your mouth into amending them.

You titter shyly, toying with your necklace. Maybe this is a part of your cover—pretending to be his significant other, all pretty and docile at his side. You won’t complain. It’s nice being this close, feeling wanted, and being envied in a different way. Not for your body, but for the man wrapped so willingly around your finger.

It’s felt like ages since you’ve last done a gig together, so you’ll enjoy his attention, even if it’s all a ploy, while you can.

The evening slides by in a blur of twinkling chandeliers and laughter.

Sylus draws you into a dance, and the pair of you are swallowed up by the mass of swaying couples and the string orchestra. Your cheeks ache with a smile, your limbs and inhibitions loosened by the champagne. He holds you to him as you waltz, his body rigid and devastating against yours, languorous fingers curled around your nape. He hasn’t stopped smiling, a boyish dimple cratering his cheek. Hasn’t released you from the scarlet stir of his eyes since, and you smoosh your face against pectoral muscle, hiding the warmth splotching your cheeks.

His heart thrums something steady beneath your ear. Beneath the expensive pleat of his tux. Breaths even, his bewitching scent furling in your chest like smoke. You let him lead you about the glittering marble tiles of the dance floor, feeling like you’re in a dream. Perhaps it’s the bubbly that’s got you toddling through a dreamlike fog, but a fraction of you starts to think, just for a second, you’re more than a cover, and your boss isn’t so detached, shoving you to the back burner in favor of someone else.

Your breath is sharp when he suddenly peels away, expertly twirling you. You laugh as your dress flutters around your ankles, nearly tripping you up. He dips you as the music dampens, the beautiful scenery tilting and blurring. Swathed in the tawny lighting of the banquet hall, you make out his features, something akin to affection loosening his expression, and the smile slips from your face.

The world fades away, and only the pair of you seem to exist in this moment. He pulls you closer until your vision fills with red, fringed by dark, wispy lashes sweeping over cheeks mottled pink. His lips purse as his gaze slides to your mouth, breath stirring your baby hairs. You hold your breath as he eases in, appearing like he’ll kiss you, and you’re stricken by something hot. Your mouths but a hairsbreadth apart, he whispers something that makes your heart sink to your feet.

“It’s showtime.”

The magic of the moment falls away as he steadies you. A pout worms its way onto your face as Sylus tangles your fingers together, a chuckle swelling in his chest. He leads you back to your table, still holding your hand, even long after you’ve returned to your seats and the event’s host takes to the stage to introduce a guest speaker.

—

Nikolai is easy to manipulate. To bend to your will. Of course, he is. All men are if you know how to approach them.

It helps that your glamor erases a few years off your face, giving you the appearance of a young woman barely experiencing the world. His favorite. It only takes you fluttering your lashes, laughing pretty, and flattering him to get him to take you back to his hotel room.

On the surface, he’s a passive, middle-aged man who looks like he wouldn’t harm a fly. But beneath that facade, he’s a scourge waiting to be wiped out. He’s as despicable as everyone else you’ve bumped off, auctioning off girls to nefarious men under the guise of selling “harmless little dolls.” Moonlighting as a franchise owner, using his stores as a ruse to smuggle young girls through the channels of the underworld.

You take that personally, having once been on the auctioning floor yourself. Memories of a past painted red flood your mind, and it makes your stomach churn with disgust. You were lucky then, having been turned into a murderous tool rather than a fucktoy. So, it makes sense why Sylus was so eager to get you on this mission. Like he knew you’d take pleasure in watching Nikolai’s life drain from his eyes, his blood caked up under your nails.

Your smile twitches, threatening to screw up into a grimace as you walk at Nikolai’s side, arm in arm. He’s red-faced and cheery, having gorged himself on champagne and merriment at the banquet. You would’ve snuffed him out if four bodyguards didn’t flank you. Not like you can’t take them, but you’d rather complete your mission as quietly as possible without rousing suspicion.

You just have to keep up the act long enough to isolate him so you can make your move. He’s been ruffling Onychinus’ feathers, claiming to be in cahoots with its notorious leader. Sylus, of course, doesn’t like that, not wanting to be associated with the likes of him. This is where you come into play, his ever-faithful watchdog, ready to kill at the drop of a hat.

Nikolai ushers you into his hotel room, where three more guards stand in good form in the living area. You acknowledge them with a seductive smile, allowing one to frisk you. Your smile grows tenfold when he finds nothing, clearing his throat and straightening his tie as if he’s fallen prey to your charm. Someone should be fired.

Nikolai leads you into his room thereafter, the double doors shutting and locking with finality. You offer him a massage, to which the portly man happily accepts, stripping down to his boxers and plopping onto the king-sized bed. He has a thing for pretty, young girls barely scraping the surface of legality. You’ll see to it he’s ushered into the afterlife by one.

Your hair waterfalls from its updo, warm as it spills onto your shoulders when you pull your hairpin free. You ruck up your gown, climbing over his body to roost yourself on his backside, legs bracketing either side of his waist, heels digging waning moons into your thighs. You’re sultry as you ensnare him in small talk, fingers kneading over layers of fat and muscle. Nikolai hums appreciatively, seemingly thrilled to have your company. Just the way you want him.

Your fingers tip-toe up his spine, thumbs smoothing over the notches of bone there. He exhales beneath your ministrations, remarking how magical your hands are. You huff a laugh as your fingers curl around his jaw, the opposing set burying themselves in his hair.

“Massaging isn’t the only thing my hands are good at.”

With a fluent twitch of your wrists, his neck snaps, the sound barely heard above the gentle croon of the jazz music he queued up beforehand, accompanied by the exhale of a life dying out like a flame.

You pull his eyelids down, easing off his lifeless body. Stare at his corpse with a faraway look in your eyes, smoothing some hair away from his face. Like he’s a sacrifice to the little girl inside, screaming for revenge. You straighten your dress when the bedroom doors rattle, Nikolai’s men frantically calling his name. Shit. Maybe you weren’t as meticulous as you thought.

Quickly, you survey your surroundings for a way out. Spot the sliding doors leading to the balcony, and you dart between them, the wispy curtains grazing over your fevered skin. A wintry kiss of wind greets you as you lean over the rail, hair ruffling, and you take in the bokeh of lights glittering on the street below.

You’re at least eight stories from the ground, so jumping is out of the question. You could very well fight your way out, but Nikolai’s guards are heavily armed. There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the fray unscathed.

You lean back against the rail, adrenaline spuming through you, watching the bedroom doors pulse as his guards kick and shove against them. Fuck! Tugging a knife from the garter belt tucked beneath the slit of your dress, you prepare for a fight, body taut, nerves flaring.

Just when you’ve resolved to get your hands dirty, something feathery touches your bare shoulder. Gentle and curious in its embrace, and you whip your head around to its source. You’re met with a smoky tendril, speckled with claret orbs of energy, swirling ominously before you. You peer over the railing, a familiar shock of white blurring into frame. There’s no mistaking the upward cant of his lips, and the crinkle of scarlet-spun eyes from this height. He motions to you with two fingers from the sidewalk, wordlessly beseeching you to come down.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter, a nervous expression stretching your features. Heights have never been your forte, but you suppose beggars can’t be choosers. “Fuck it,” you relent, gathering some courage and climbing onto the rail.

Nikolai’s men finally break through, and as they dart in, spraying the room in a hail of bullets upon seeing Nikolai’s corpse, you fall into the feathery cradle of Sylus’ Evol, a yip ripped from your throat.

You float to the ground like a feather, falling into Sylus’ arms. He looks down at you with something unguarded shining in his eyes, using his Evol as a shield when Nikolai’s men pelt the pair of you with a barrage of bullets.

You lose yourself in the moment. Your lips part, lids heavy with something you can’t quite place.

“Took you long enough,” you chide to dispel the tension brewing between you, trying to catch your breath.

“I’ll be more punctual next time,” Sylus answers with a chuckle, voice rumbling against your body as he casually walks away from the scene, refusing to put you down, even long after he’s warped you to safety.

rising action | masterlist | climax 2.0

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #lads sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #carpe noctem series #limerence series

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beneathashadytree · 6 months ago

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CAUGHT AT THE BAR! - TEXTING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN

Warnings : sneakiness, implied possessiveness, semi-public (bathroom) sex, voyeurism, cockwarming, lingerie, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : lighthearted smut <3

Additional notes : Now this commission was based off this amazing cosplay on Twitter, and I LOVED the idea and totally ran with it😋 And as you can see, there’s a surprise in for you guys in this one: Caleb was included as per their request! It was a little difficult to write for him since we know next to nothing about him and the way he texts, but here goes nothing🫣

Commissions are open here!

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cyberrmusee · 14 days ago

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hear me out- HEAR ME OUT- rivals satoru and suguru where they’ve been fighting each other over dumb shit since middle school and competing for better grades, whatever.

and one of them has a crush on you… so the other fucks you first. and sends pics/ maybe even is on call with the other??

this is evil i fear

- ⭐️

cw: m@ting press, mentions of bre3ding, dub con? sorta, phone s3x sorta?, m@sturbation, rivalry, bi suguboo and satoru :3

i hope this lives up to ur expectations at least a lil bit😭

satoru and suguru, had known each other forever, for as long as they could remember. They had also been competing for EVERYTHING as long as they could remember.

satoru had always been number one at everything he ever tried, sports, cooking, gaming, welding, hell anything you could think of, he’d tried it and mastered in no time. It would drive suguru up a wall.

But there was one thing satoru could never beat him at… charming a woman. Sure he could get one in bed easy, no problem, but when he actually liked a woman? oh he was fucked. That is to say, he practically had ZERO actual game, no matter his looks or status, especially since it was YOU.

Someone who wasn’t fascinated by his wealth, talent or status. The very reason he fell for you, the moment his status and wealth didn’t woo you, it was like something clicked in place for him, something chanted over and over in his mind "her, its her" and from the moment he AND his rival realized, he knew he was screwed.

Suguru however? oh this is his specialty. His natural flirtatious behavior and laid back demeanor, combined with all that damn smooth talking he does, he could have any woman within a ten mile radius, head over heels for him in 48 hours flat. He was just that good. It was the thing he prided himself most on, the one thing he could do, that his rival could not.

he’d caught sight of how satoru stared at you on campus, the yearning— longing in his gaze. the way his cheeks would tint pink whenever you walked past him without a care in the world, because to you, satoru wasn’t even on your radar.

it wasn’t until suguru noticed his white haired rival picking up on his moves, similar jokes, smirks and flirtation tactics— that he officially had set you in his sights. no way was he gonna get the girl with his fucking moves.

it started as just the usual, antagonistic, petty rivalry at first. he never planned to take it too far, just flirt with you enough to let his enemy know to fuck off with using what he deemed rightfully his. he didn’t even want you—though somewhere along the way he noticed the way your lashes fluttered when you spoke to him, the way your gloss sat on your lips and your shy smile when you listened to him and— holy shit the way your tits sat on your chest, just perfect. fuckin perfect.

it didn’t take long for you to give in to him and all his charms. not because you were easy, no but because he was too good at this, too charming, too laid back, too addictive. something about him had you craving every bit of his attention, affection and god his touch, you wanted him so bad, more than you’d care to admit out loud, your inner voice screamed at you “more more more more” until finally you caved and found yourself in your current situation.

he had you pent up beneath him, legs spread wide and slung over his shoulders, your body folded like a lawn chair in the meanest mating press he could manage, his hands on either side on your body as he slung his hips forward over and over and over. bed creaking under the sheer weight of both your bodies. wooden mast of the headboard banging against your bedroom walls. god, your poor neighbors.

his angry mushroomy tip hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed until now. your maw slacking open to whine out “s-sugu s’too much! can’t t-take it!” your head was spinning, your velvety walls hugging him tight, greedy cunt pulling him in deeper as you cunt wept around his shaft and he hissed at the bliss of pleasure. “you c-can take it pre-pretty girl—hah…fuck” his hair pulled out of his messy bun, raven locks swaying with the mass of his moving body, as he fucked you deeper deeper deeper with every thrust. “s’all wet like this f’me hm?” he grunted as he moved a hand to swipe at your puffy lips, covered in your own thick, clear arousal, bringing his fingers back up and stretching them apart to look at the glistening string of your essence between them before shoving the digits in his mouth, groaning as he savored your taste. “mmmm so fuckin’ good, pussy so sweet.”

you only crooned in response as his veins swept over every orifice of your gummy insides deliciously. tummy bulging slightly from the monstrous size of his weighted cock as he bullied the hilt of your cunt. eyes rolling back as that ball of heat built slowly in your lower tummy with every plap plap plap! of his hips against yours. “suguuu! m’gonna cummm!”you cried out as a thin sheen of sweat began to form on your skin, as the squelching noises of your greedy cunt, your moans and his grunts filled the room. through the haze of lust and sex in the room, your phone buzzes from your nightstand and had it not lit up, suguru would’ve missed it, but oh- oh, he could not miss the name that popped up on the screen.

“satoru 🩵”

he was calling and oh he had the biggest shit eating grin plastered on his face as he reached for the phone and put it up to his ear, between his shoulder and cheek, answering. "hey gorgeous was just calling to see if you maybe-" his rivals voice rasped out before he cut him off "she's busy." he grunted as his hips never slowed.

for a moment he sat in silence at the sound of sugurus voice, denial settling in his bones, but the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, whines and cries sounding off in the background— he had you, fuck, he actually had you, and sounding like that? satoru hated to admit it was making him unimaginably hard as he huffed through his nostrils on the other end of the line. “you fuckin’-”only to be cut off by suguru yet again, hissing at the way your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm on the horizon as you whimpered underneath him “hold on, gotta m-make her cum first, why don’t you just s-sit tight and enjoy the show?” he panted out as he tossed the phone back on the dresser leaving his rival to hear how he put you through the mattress from the other end of the line.

he yanked you down the bed, pulling you more onto his dick, every crevice of your poor cunt so filled with him you swore you were seeing stars and he was he in your lungs. his arms snaked around your waist as he tilted your lower half up and leaned his body forward just a tad more to find that reallll special spot inside, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he hit it “ah there it is” he smirked as he pistoned his hips roughly, pulling sounds from you, you didn’t even know you could make.

satoru from the other end of the phone, would never admit to the way he yanked his pants and boxers down at the sound of your moans and cries. the way his cock pearled thick beads of shiny pre-cum at the tip just from hearing the way you sounded— so desperate, so pretty.

no he would never admit that he muted himself on the call and fisted his cock so pathetically and angrily as he listened to the one man he couldn’t stand most, fuck you silly, the way he should be. he’d never admit how he was picturing your body and— sugurus too? as his hips bucked up into his hand, pumping his cock, moaning and whining desperately as he tried to match the strokes suguru was giving you.

and god he’d never admit that he came so hard from listening to the sounds his rival made when he came, the grunts and moans that sent him over the edge as hot spurts of his seed spilled out of him and into his hand while sugurus spilled inside of you, because your greedy cunt wouldn’t let him pull out in time or so he claimed.

he didn’t need to admit it though, because while he may have thought he muted the call, he didn’t, and suguru couldn’t miss the faint grunts emanating from the other end of the phone as he picked it up right after finishing “you know, if you want a threesome, you should just ask.”and with that, he hung up.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for like a month or two bc i forgot i wrote it i’m sooo sorry if it’s, terrible i did notttt proofread it😭

#cyberrmuse #cybersmind #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x chubby reader #jjk x plus size reader #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #geto smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader

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mattsstarlet · 1 month ago

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⋆˚࿔ pearl ⟢

camgirl!reader gets overstimulated by pornstar!matt and her camgirl!friend.

contains: smut (p in v), unprotected sex, threesome (male + 2 females), overstimulation, degradation if you squint, use of vibrator, squirting.

IMPORTANT NOTE: camgirl!friend is exclusively for the girls only, this is a one time thing. also i’m bi, so yes. i am allowed to write this 😊

“can you give us one more?” pearl asked softly in your ear, brushing the strands away from your sweaty forehead, kissing your temple. you laid your naked back against her bra covered chest, panting and sobbing as matt continued to fuck you through your third orgasm.

her hands explored your spent body, cupping your tits and playing with them, squeezing them ever so gently. her gaze flickered over to matt’s stoic face, his jaw clenched as she kissed your neck.

“someone looks angry.” she taunted, giggling in your ear, cupping your chin and angling your head to brush her lips against yours. “you’re my pretty slut.” she whispered, placing a light peck.

matt chuckled deeply, shaking his head in amusement, a lopsided grin appeared on his lips as he slowed his pace, giving you deep and taunting thrusts that made your toes curl. pearl pulled away, reaching for the wand beside her and clicking the ‘on’ button, a loud buzz harmonizing with your cries and the sound of skin clapping.

“shiiiit— there we go.” he groaned, watching you jump as the vibrator came in contact with your clit, your gummy walls fluttering around his cock. your eyes rolled back, your mouth hanging low as pearl continued to grope your tit with her free hand. “that’s my sweet girl.”

“what’s it gotta take for you to be louder hm?” she muttered, her thumb hovering over the ‘+’ button on the wand. her eyes flickered over to your laptop, your chat box going absolutely crazy, filled with many compliments and ‘do this’ or ‘do that’. she flashed a toothy grin as she saw the amount of money that was flowing in— all tips were over a hundred.

“oh my god,” you sobbed, your thighs trembling as pearl sped up the toy two volumes up, wanting to hear your overstimulated cries.

“oh i’m sorry.” she fake cooed, running the wand up and down your abused cunt, causing matt to grunt each time the vibrations touched his dick. “you weren’t being loud enough, angel.”

you whined, your words exiting your lips in a slurring mess with drool practically coating your chin. your head felt fuzzy and empty, your vision blurring away from the bubble of tears.

matt moaned at the sight of you in a puddle, reaching forward laying his palm flat on your lower belly, feeling himself pump into you. “that’s m’dick in there, baby. all up in ya guts.”

“mm-hm— oh!— m’cumming.” you cried out, your hips lifting themselves up and rutting them against matt’s cock, your body almost twitching at the high vibrations of the wand.

pearl let out a giggle from her spot behind you, speeding up the intensity once more. “show ‘em what a messy slut you are.” she demanded, letting the toy buzz on your overstimulated, sensitive bud.

a series of curses left your mouth as your pussy spasmed on matt’s length, feeling the knot in your core explode. white, creamy paint adorned the base of his cock before squirting out clear, water-like fluid, wetting the messy sheets underneath you.

matt followed right after, filling your insides with each drop of his cum, his balls slapping against your skin, emptying out his load.

pearl helped you ride out your guys’ high, pressing the wand between you both. “c-can’t… s’too much.” you whined out, sighing in relief as she turned it off.

matt pulled out, watching his cum ooze out of your sloppy cunt before manhandling you onto your tummy, positioning you between pearl’s legs.

“eat her pussy while i fuck you again. shut her up f’me, baby.”

dedicated to my ‘😏’ anon and all the bi girlies <3

credits here.

#𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭© ˚ ༘ ೀ #✰ pornstar!matt x camgirl!reader prompts ✰#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolos #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo au #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets prompt #the sturniolo triplets x you

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actuallysaiyan · 1 year ago

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Sleepless Night(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, somnophilia, creampie finish, slight dub-con if you squint but there is consent, sex

word count: 1.2k

pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

summary: Kento can't sleep and his cock is so hard...so he just decides to take matters into his own hands and fucks you through the night

a/n: This is inspired by the very lovely artwork that @kentosmoon has created that I cannot post here, but I took one look at it and was so inspired! Please, go check them out and go check out their twitter page too ;) You'll find the artwork in question.

taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly

It’s late and Kento can’t sleep. He can’t sleep despite the fact that he knows he’ll have to wake up early. It’s been a long time since he was plagued with such an intense bout of insomnia. He should be sleeping. You’re right here next to him. Dressed in one of his old t-shirts and snoring lightly, this should comfort him more than anything.He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

His amber eyes seek his phone in the darkness. His long arm reaches over towards the bedside table. He sighs when the screen reads 3:05 am. It’s too late to even think about getting a good night’s sleep. You both had retired to the bedroom around 10 pm, and yet he tossed and turned for so long. He sets the phone down and then snuggles closer to you, hoping your warmth will bring him some relief.

Then another annoyance washes over him. Just smelling you and being this close to you causes his cock to twitch a few times. He closes his eyes, choosing to ignore the deep desire inside of him instead. Eventually, he feels himself dozing off. That is…until you lean back into him, pressing that plump ass of yours against his half-hard cock.

“Shit…” Kento hisses.

He knows it’s not your fault. You’re sleeping, after all. But this has just woken him up even more. It’s late and he’s supposed to be at work around 7 tomorrow. There’s just no way he’ll make it in. He thinks to himself that he’d rather deal with this issue and pleasure you both and call in sick. Kento begins to grind against your ass, his arm wrapping around you again to pull you in even closer to him.

“Hey…” he whispers softly in your ear.

You don’t wake up. He continues grinding against you, his cock growing hard as he continues. There’s a wet spot forming on the front of his silky pajamas from all the precum he’s spilling out. Kento grunts again when you move against him. Then he hears you moaning.

“Hey baby,” he whispers once more.

“Mmm…Ken?” you ask, your voice full of sleep.

He grunts once more as you move closer to him, your hips wiggling just a bit to get into a more comfortable position. You must be too deep in your sleepy state to even notice just how his hard cock is pressing up against your ass. He grinds against you a few more times, then he leans in to nip at your earlobe.

“Can I please…please…fuck you while you sleep? Please?”

Your eyes shoot open, but soon you’re hit with another bout of sleepiness. You want to be more awake, but you’re struggling. Just the thought of him fucking you while you sleep causes a heat to spread deep in your loins.

You feel his hand coming down between your thighs, and he pushes them open just a bit. His long fingers part your thighs, making you mewl so sleepily. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking on your pulse points.

“Can I? Please, honey…don’t make me beg. I just can’t sleep and I…”

You look over your shoulder at him, “Yes, you can. Fuck me.”

He sighs contentedly and lifts your leg a little bit to give him even more room. You close your eyes once more, and you feel him shuffling behind you. Then you gasp softly when the head of his cock prods your entrance. Slowly, he slips into you. The stretch is immediate and your little cunt flutters to try and adjust around his thick size.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your neck. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.”

He begins rocking his hips so sensually and so slowly. The head of his cock kisses your cervix every time he buries himself so deeply into you. Your eyes open for a moment, only catching the blurry vision of your phone showing you the time. It’s late, but you know your husband never asks you for this sort of request unless he needs it to sleep.

Kento continues to pump into you, his cock feeling so sensitive with every single thrust. It feels heavenly to be buried so deep in your cunt. You grip him in the best way possible, and you’re always so wet and so warm just for him. He could stay buried in your heat for the rest of eternity if it was up to him.

He continues to fuck you, making sure you’re comfortable within every position change. He manhandles you with great care and makes sure you’re so comfortable. Soon, he feels his balls drawing up and he’s grunting quietly as the pleasure builds faster and faster.

“Fuck!” He cries out, and your eyes open just a bit. You become aware of the “pap, pap, pap” sound of your skin slapping together.

Within seconds, Kento is emptying himself into you, grunting and growling. You can hear the words he says, but only just vaguely as you’re still so sleepy. Warmth fills your cunt as Kento empties his balls deep inside of you.

“That’s such a good girl,” he groans softly.

You whine softly, your eyes feeling so heavy. Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep again. Kento maneuvers you both so that you’re lying on your back. He spreads your thighs so carefully, getting an eyeful of the cum spilling out from your puffy folds. He’s tempted to lean in and clean it up with his tongue, but he won’t do that just yet.

Kento slides into you until his balls are plush against your ass. As he does this, he gets a look at your phone and notices he’s been fucking you for almost fourty minutes now. It feels much too good to stop. He wants to fuck you all morning now, well into the sunrise and passed that.

“Just—hnng, five more minutes.” He lies to you, but he knows you need to have some sort of idea how long this is going to take,

You nod your head sleepily, falling back into that half-asleep state you’ve been in this entire time. Something about doing something so taboo and naughty really turns him on. Kento leans in to kiss your lips, making you moan out just for him. Then he begins rutting against you, pushing in so deep.

Minutes pass as he continues to fuck himself so deeply into you. Every so often he tries to edge himself to prolong this, but it becomes even harder with every intense orgasm he feels. He gets you off a few times as well, rubbing your swollen clit that’s just begging to be stimulated.

It’s nearly 6am the next time he fills you up, and he’s staying so deep inside of you. He grunts that he’s cumming in your ear, and you blink awake. It’s so sticky between your legs and the sheets beneath you feel wet and full of cum and juices. You look into his beautiful eyes, all full of love, lust and a touch of exhaustion.

“No sense of stopping now,” you whisper as you two share a kiss. “Let’s keep going…”

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starmocha · 5 months ago

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Tagged by @world-of-hearts love any excuse to share my favorite songs 🤭 but why only 5 😔

tag game: share 5 of your favorite songs & tag 10 people 🎵

1. ESCAPE - (G)I-DLE

2. Lovedrunk - Epik High

3. Different - Woodz

4. idfc - blackbear (Tarro Remix deserves special mention, but all versions are my faves)

5. Say You'll Be Mine - Rockell

No pressure, but tagging @rose-tinted-kalopsia @unluckywisher @callilypso @nerdyladyrebel @yourlocalcatscammer @lavlynyan @miudle @nezukoo-channn @irandial @an-ever-angry-bi + anyone else who wants to join 💖

#★⋆. ࿐࿔ tumblr games #this was hard #i wanted to pick some different ones #but ended up choosing 3 korean songs immediately lol

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

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Business Trip

Zayne x gn!Reader

This has absolutely no relation to Zayne's card of the same name, I just had no idea what else to call this and I'm too tired to think of anything different lol

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, phone call, sleepiness

Word Count: 569

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third LADS Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

Zayne knows right away it's you calling from the ringtone alone. Yet he still checks the screen before he answers. His eyes are bleary, head heavy with information, body ready to collapse. The phone beeps as he accepts the call.

"It's two in the morning, you should be asleep."

You giggle sleepily on the other end. "Hello to you, too."

A small smile finds his lips. Even so far away from him, you so effortlessly break the aloof outer shell he lives with; slipping past Dr. Zayne and finding him, just Zayne. His voice is softer when next he speaks. "Hello, my love. Why are you up so late?"

"Wanted to hear your voice," you tell him. He can just picture your face as you yawn. Nose scrunching up, mouth gaping wide. Unflattering, perhaps, but he loves it so. "You said the conference would be over around one. So I stayed up to say goodnight."

He shakes his head, though you can't see it. "I just got back to the hotel. You could have called closer to one."

"Well, I was gonna, but..." Another yawn. "But I might've dozed just a bit..."

"You shouldn't fight to stay awake. Go back to sleep. You can call me again tomorrow when you wake up."

"How d'you know if you'll be free then?"

"I know because my train leaves in the afternoon. I don't have to be at the station until 3."

He can hear shuffling on the other end of the phone. The speaker scrapes against something, muffling the call for a moment before it clears again just as you go to speak. You must have snuggled further into your blankets. How he wishes he could hold you now. "Nnn, when'll it get here?"

"Around 8, and I'll be home by no later than 8:30. Does that suffice?"

You hum, slurring your words. "Yeah, 's good..."

He speaks quieter. "I'll stop by the dessert shop and pick up some of your favorites."

"Mhm..." You're no longer processing anything he's saying. He can tell. Your breathes are evening out, barely audible through the phone.

"I love you," he whispers.

His response comes in quiet snores. He leans against the wall. Closes his eyes. Just listens. Follows the steady sound of your breathing. Lets it sink into his aching, tired body. It lifts away the weight in his head, replaces the exhaustion in his eyes with something softer. He smiles.

He would stay there for a whole hour if he could, but he also needs his rest. He still has to shower and go through his nightly routine before he can go to sleep. He's only been away for a day, but he misses the familiarity of flitting past each other as you go through your respective routines. Him, standing behind you in the mirror, brushing his teeth and smiling around the brush while you wash your face and tell him the gossip from work. Drying your hair for you while he tells you about his own day. Laying side by side in bed, facing each other, caressing cheeks and combing through hair, sharing soft kisses. Perhaps he clings to that for the next few minutes he listens to you sleep, reminding himself of how much longer he needs to wait to have that again.

Eventually, he whispers as softly as possible into the phone, "Goodnight, my love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz @that-lost-one @always-just-red @sine-nomine0 @beautifulthingsiadore @burningtrashgentleman @nothankyew @nezuswritingdesk @ssushi @mina7820 @monophobix @m0onfl0x @mentaltrouble2201 @mskaylacharite @nerrivm @ichosesparklingtorment @schnittled @leiakitty @loliesaregreat @flamedancer13

#fanfic #fanfiction #zayne #zayne x reader #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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salemrph · 2 months ago

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"Let the World Burn"

Chapter 4: Extraction Point

A night of celebration ends in chaos—you vanish without a trace. The ransom demand arrives, but Sylus knows this isn’t just about money.

Chapter 4 summary: A silent extraction turns into chaos. Luke reaches you, but leaving isn’t an option—not without answers. Sylus navigates a dangerous negotiation with Rudy. But as tensions rise, one thing becomes clear—this game has more players than they thought.

Characters: Sylus x MC/Reader/You, Luke and Kieran, Zayne, Caleb

Genre/Warning: descriptions of violence and blood, hurt/comfort, injuries, grief, romantic, drama, action, slight sexual content, angst

Words: 8.5k | Reading Time: 34 min

Inspired by: Let the world burn

Tag list: @voidsylus @thechaoticarchivist @syluscrows @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @syluskisser @fortunekookie07 @crimsonlittlecrow @mochibunnies3 @gazelover666 @fancyhawk45 @sorryimakira @paninisstuff @deathrye @tinyweebsstuff @sxderia @yunhogrippers @sylusqt @darkesky @an-ever-angry-bi @atinymekanie @bruisedchickensoup @thatonegenderfluidwhore @certainduckanchor @the-girl-who-used-to @reika-desu @f41k47 @beezabuzz @mentaltrouble2201 @bl00dsuccker @blorbohunter @gianchan-de @fortunekookie07 @sylusloml @pandoras-rabbit @the-spine-of-the-world @noradest @akane0815 @owodi @greatmistakes @theshadowsdragon @pillarofsnow

Chapter 4: Extraction Point

The alarm blares through the halls, drilling into your skull with every pulse of red flashing light. You move quickly behind Luke, your grip on the gun tightening with each step you take.

"We need to shut that thing off—now," you say, voice clipped. "More guards will be coming."

Luke doesn’t slow down, his gun swinging into position as you round a corner—right into another squad of enemies. At least he doesn’t have to bother with stealth anymore. Gunfire erupts, loud over the wailing alarm. Luke moves like a force of nature, taking them down with brutal efficiency. The force of his shots sends bodies slamming into walls, blood splattering against the already ruined floors. You take out the stragglers, ducking low and firing off calculated shots. One gets too close—you twist, drive an elbow into his throat, then finish him off with a clean shot to the temple. He crumples, his last breath a wet, choking gasp.

"I know," he mutters, kicking a body aside. "Any idea where the control room is?"

"Really? You’re asking me?" You exhale sharply, scanning the hallway, heart still hammering against your ribs. Then it hits you, an idea, a reckless one. You scoff, but a smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to Luke. "Buut… I know who could tell us."

Luke glances at you, then grins. "I like where this is going."

You double back, retracing your steps to the room you barely escaped from. The door slams open under your force, gun raised, eyes scanning for movement. The sight inside makes your stomach twist. Instruments lying on the floor, broken glass, and an overturned syringe tray. Luke steps in behind you, his boots smearing fresh blood across the cold floor. He looks over and secures the room. His expression darkens. Seeing this mess, it's almost a miracle you only got away with a broken rib. A chill runs through Luke as he looks at all the instruments.

"Shit" you mutter. Your gaze locks onto the trail of blood smeared across the door. You look for the big guy, he's not there. He's escaped. You just hope you don't run into him again. Nevermind, what happened to the other one? Then your eyes flick to the figure on the ground—the lab worker. He’s barely conscious, groaning softly. Luke steps past you without hesitation. He grips the man by the collar, lifting him with ease and throwing him onto the operating table. The sound is brutal. Before the poor bastard can react, Luke straps him down, the leather restraints biting into his wrists. The man whimpers. You exhale through the pain in your ribs, forcing yourself to stay sharp. You won’t let your body slow you down now. The painkillers Luke gave you dull the worst of it, but they’re not a miracle.

"Morning," Luke gives the man a sharp slap, waking him just enough to make him aware of the situation. His dazed eyes flutter open. "It’s payday." The guy lets out a panicked wheeze as he wakes up.

"Eh—who are—?!"

You press your gun to his temple, cutting him off. The feel of it steadies you. Makes you feel in control again. You don’t have time for chitchat. You’ll beat the answer out of him if you have to.

"Tell us how to shut off the alarm," you order. He hesitates, shifting against the restraints. Wrong move. With a sharp click, you load the gun and press it harder against his skull. "I’m not playing."

Luke leans in, grinning. "Yeah… I’d do what she says."

The man swallows hard. His eyes dart between you and Luke, his breathing shallow, erratic. You can practically see the moment he breaks—his resolve snapping like a brittle bone. His lips part, and then the words start spilling out, rushed, desperate. Fear makes people efficient. You merely listen to all the details. Your pulse is pounding too loud, your body strung too tight. Every inch of you still aches from what they did to you in this place, but the fire in your veins burns hotter than the pain.

You feel your soul trembling. You don’t kill out of hate. You don’t kill out of rage. You don’t kill for revenge. You pause. Because you’re not like them. The man strapped to the operating table whimpers. His breath is ragged, eyes blown wide with terror as he stares at you. Your finger hovers over the trigger.

It's simple. It should be… your hands feel too heavy and your chest too tight. Your head splits open with pain, a sharp, searing ache burrowing into the base of your skull like claws sinking into flesh. You fight the urge to flinch, to wince, to scream. The feeling burns through your mind. Your vision distorts, one moment you see the man strapped to the table, the next…

Heat. Strength. Power.

It slithers through your veins, wrapping around your hesitation like an iron grip. Your grip tightens. When he finally finishes speaking, you pull the trigger. Without a thanks or a second thought of leaving that miserable loser alive. The shot rings out, deafening in the confined space. Luke barely has time to process it before the sharp, metallic scent of blood fills the air. You stand there, unmoving. Blood splatters across your face but you don’t care. With a slow motion, you wipe it away with the back of your hand, your eyes remain fixed on the corpse. Luke didn’t expect that. He expects you to give maybe a warning shot or knock him out. But this... this was different. It wasn’t just the act, but the way you carried it. The way the weight of the moment didn’t seem to touch you.

Something about how you looked in that instant left him speechless. For a fleeting second, he swore it wasn’t you standing there. It was Sylus. That same cold, unreadable expression. The same quiet, commanding aura that sent a chill down his spine. The flickering light overhead cast long shadows, stretching your figure, distorting it, making it harder to tell where you end and he begins. Luke blinked, shaking off the unsettling thought, but the image burned in his mind as he fell into step behind you. He exhales, rolling his shoulders to dispel the tension.

"What was that?" you snap out of whatever stage you were in. Your body felt disconnected, like you were standing on the shore watching yourself drift out to sea. You shake your head and blink a couple of times.

"Huh—? What do you mean?" Your voice came out softer than you expected, like you weren’t entirely here. Luke studied you for a moment longer, then shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain what he just saw. Instead, he just muttered a quiet curse under his breath and shoved you toward the door.

"Forget it."

With the info, both sprint through the sterile corridors, the control room your sole target. It slams shut—a heavy, automated door—just beyond the next bend. No time for caution. You can't afford it. You're almost there. Having already neutralized a handful of guards along the way, you reach the final door. You retrieve the stolen access card, the plastic slick with sweat, and swipe it across the panel. Luke forcefully pushes the door open, and you both quickly slip inside.

Two guards react instantly, reaching for their weapons but they’re not fast enough. Two shots ring out, precise and merciless. Luke’s aim is unerring, each bullet finding its mark. The men drop before they can even shout, bodies crumpling to the floor with a dull thud. Silence follows. The room is yours.

The control room is dim, the cold glow of computer monitors casting soft shadows. Dust swirls in the air, illuminated by the sterile light. Luke moves quickly, pushing the two lifeless bodies aside to make room, then heads over to one of the terminals, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. The access code, a grim prize extracted moments earlier, allowed him to bypass the security protocols. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, reflecting in his intense gaze. Then—beep. He disables the alarm, finally giving you some breathing room. The sirens go silent. The sudden absence of the piercing sirens left a ringing in your ears, a strange, almost painful quiet. But with it came a wave of relief, the immediate threat finally extinguished. It's time to search.

The desk is cluttered but not in the way you’d hoped—no scattered files, no convenient folders labeled classified. Just empty coffee cups, loose papers filled with mundane schedules, and a monitor that hums softly in the quiet. Where is it?

You ripped open the drawers, your fingers fumbling through useless reports and personnel lists, each empty drawer a tightening knot in your stomach. Your pulse quickens. Nothing. No tangible evidence to tear apart with your own hands. Nothing to seize, nothing to expose. The clock ticked in your head. You try to tell yourself it’s fine. You just need something—anything—to tell you what the hell they had done to you in this place.

So, you sit down on the second access point, ignoring the way your body protests the movement, the dull throb in your ribs turning sharp. Your fingers move over the keyboard. The system is old, security lazy. They hadn’t expected anyone to make it this far. The access code bypassed the remaining firewalls. You navigated the labyrinth of files, eyes burning as you scanned folder names—a blur of experiment logs, medical archives, test results. There. Your finger stabbed the click.

The screen flooded with sterile data, graphs, diagrams, text reports. A clinical autopsy of your very being. Blood tests, cardiographic readings, a meticulous dissection of your physiology. Your blood turned to ice. You swallowed the data a bitter pill.

CONFIDENTIAL EXPERIMENTAL REPORT

Subject Female, Evol: Anhausen Class

Recorder: Vincent, Lead Researcher – Project Oversight

Serum Code: "Chimera 1X9"

Composition Details:

Synthesized neuro-stimulants and bio-engineered catalysts

High-reactivity compounds designed to enhance neural plasticity

Energy output modification through forced metabolic acceleration

Volatile binding agents—difficult to stabilize, prone to cellular rejection

Observation Log:

Subject exhibited severe physiological distress within seconds of administration. Immediate cardiovascular irregularities: tachycardia, arrhythmic fluctuations. Visible muscular tremors and loss of motor function. Subject experienced a full-body shock response—clenched jaw, rapid convulsions, short-term paralysis. Uncontrolled ocular reactions noted—dilated pupils, erratic flickering eye movement.

Neurological Response:

Severe overstimulation detected in prefrontal cortex

Extreme hyperawareness followed by rapid crashes—energy output fluctuating erratically. Energy production surged unpredictably, causing extreme fatigue.

Speech impairment detected—inability to articulate words properly post-injection.

Subject lost consciousness multiple times, heart rate dangerously dipping before spiking again.

Subject's pain response exceeded projected tolerance levels—screaming, breathlessness, disorientation. Potential long-term nerve damage is a concern.

Unexpected Results

Serum-induced destabilization of cardiac rhythms required immediate countermeasures.

Subject's body temperature spiked dangerously (recorded at 40.1°C / 104.2°F).

Temporary vision impairment noted, with reported instances of visual distortion.

Neurological instability worsening—subject displayed erratic brainwave activity consistent with severe seizure-like episodes.

Additional Notes

Subject presents symptoms consistent with Protocore Syndrome—a rare Evol-linked disorder affecting neurological adaptability and cellular regeneration.

Syndrome appears to amplify Chimera 1X9’s instability. Subject’s Evol classification likely compounding the serum’s violent response.

Further observation required to determine if prolonged exposure will result in adaptation or complete system failure.

Serum stability adjustments necessary before further administration.

Additional neuro-blockers required to manage the subject's volatile neural responses.

Close monitoring for progressive neurological deterioration or compensatory adaptation. Any progressive neural degradation must be logged.

If instability persists, termination may be required before critical system failure occurs. Subject must be transferred immediately.

End of Report.

The phantom chill of the metal table returned, the ghost of restraints biting into your skin. The needle's prick, the searing burn of the serum, a foreign fire coursing through your veins. Your body had rebelled against it, muscles spasming, vision flashing white. Their voices had blurred together. Taking notes while you screamed. You exhale shakily, willing yourself back to the present. The serum. They tested something on you. They documented every reaction, every spike in your vitals, every moment your body tried to tear itself apart. Your hands shake as you reach for the keyboard again. You force yourself to read it again, but the second time is worse. The words dig in deeper.

Serum instability… neuro-toxicity… critical system failure.

There has to be more. Something to tell you what they were looking for—what they wanted from you. Volatile compounds. Neural overstimulation. Your breathing is too shallow, too quick, and you force yourself to focus, to shove the rising panic down.

The screen swam, the data blurring into an indecipherable haze. It took a moment to register—your vision, not the monitor, was failing. You blinked, the world momentarily sharpening, then wavering again. A suffocating tightness gripped your chest, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your ears. The clinical details of your own body were a nauseating horror, but you couldn't stop. It sounds like a death sentence. A ticking bomb inside your body, waiting to go off. You feel the pang in your chest again, your heart expanding painfully against your ribs, against your lungs.

The continuous pulse in your head makes you feel sluggish, or rather your brain is overloaded. Chimera 1X9. That name sounds familiar, where have you seen that before? Your eyes flick over the screen again, scanning the text. You had to find the answers, even as your body screamed for you to stop. Suddenly, it clicks. The name had surfaced before. Fleeting mentions in the Hunter Association’s databases, nothing your division would typically handle. It wasn’t classified as a high-priority case, but it was a ghost in the background, a name hovering around disappearances, shady experiments, and rumors of human modification. You remember brushing past it in reports, never realizing how close it really was. As you push through the haze in your mind, you force yourself to keep scrolling. Names fill the screen. People who had vanished without a trace. Each file meticulously details their "adaptation process," the failures, the side effects. Some never survived the trials. Looking at the reports, you realize something. They were all Evolvers.

"Miss?" Luke’s voice pulls you back, his eyes narrowing as he studies you. He’s tense now, sensing the shift in your body language. "What 's wrong?" You shake your head, you keep scrolling. You swallow the tightness in your throat, willing yourself to focus on the screen.

"Nothing" you murmur, fingers tightening against the keyboard as if sheer willpower could steady your trembling hands. He doesn’t buy it. You can feel his eyes on you, his posture shifting. Luke leans against the chair, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the screen occasionally then back to you.

"I almost forgot," he said, too nonchalantly, "you should know, someone paid your apartment a visit after you vanished."

Your fingers pause mid-scroll. A cold prickle runs down your spine. "Huh? What?"

He tilts his head slightly, watching for your reaction. "Big guy. Dark hair. Blue jacket. Something with DAA. Broke in and left after a while."

"Wait— How do you…? Sylus. You had told him to remove the security cameras from your place. A thousand thoughts race through your mind. Who? Why? DAA… Your heart stutters. "Caleb?" you whispered, your voice tight.

Luke gives a slow nod. "If that’s his name. Looked pissed as hell. Do you know him?"

Why the hell would Caleb break into your apartment? Is he again stepping over your boundaries? He was the one who didn't reply to your messages. Not even when you were almost begging for at least an "I’m okay". You shake your head. Maybe he came to Linkon for another reason? This is too much… You left the club past 2 AM, and not long after, Rudy’s men grabbed you. He couldn’t have known you were missing—not that quickly. So why was he there?

"You’re sure he left?" you ask, voice tighter than before.

Luke shrugs. "Didn’t stay long. In and out." He paused, his gaze sharp and unwavering.

Your mind reels. Caleb. The same Caleb who had been acting weird since he came back. Now he just happens to show up at your place in the middle of the night. None of this makes sense. And you hate not knowing.

"Wasn't Caleb someone in your family who died in an explosion? And then you accused Boss Man of being responsible for it?"

Yeah, I was trying to forget that part… You let out a slow breath, trying to focus, to push down the creeping paranoia crawling up your spine. "He's..." You trailed off, focusing on the screen.

One more problem to deal with later. Right now, you don’t have time to deal with it nor do you have the patience to explain yourself. Who knows if Sylus already is aware that Caleb is alive. You haven’t told Sylus about Skyhaven… The weight of the past few hours is silently creeping into the cracks of your worn-out body and weary mind.

You pull yourself together as best you can, your fingers move quickly over the keyboard, searching through directories, hidden logs, anything that might connect the dots. That’s when you notice it, something buried beneath layers of routine supply orders. A transaction log. You open the folder. Lines of purchase orders and shipments fill the screen, listing various high-end medical supplies—specialized equipment, containment units, proprietary formulas. Most of it looks standard for an underground lab. Your breath stills. That name.

"We’ll need a copy" you murmur, without turning away from the screen.

"What did you find?" You show him the files after you started the transfer to the cloud of Onychinus. It would be the safest place to copy the date and maybe later let it be analyzed by Zayne or even the Association.

"Nothing good. Look."

"Ever." Luke reads.

It’s everywhere you look. Ever, the most prestigious international business group, is basically supporting the whole Linkon City. Xander Sciences—acquired by Ever Group. Linkon University and the incident with Xavier, the manipulation of memories. Rafayel's mission, the island, Lemuria—all threads leading back to Ever. Zayne's insistence on keeping you away from the medical investigator. They were everywhere, their tendrils reaching into every corner of your life.

"Fucking hell!" you breathe out, barely recognizing your own voice. Anger surges through you, sudden and overwhelming. You slam your fist against the table, hard enough to make the monitor tremble. The pain from your ribs flares instantly, but you don’t care. This wasn’t a coincidence. This wasn’t random. Chimera 1X9. You weren't just another test subject. You were meant to end up here. They’ve been watching. Funding. Moving the pieces while you and the others played right into it. Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Ever is always there, a constant shadow, a puppeteer's hand guiding every move. You lean back, stomach twisting. This wasn't just about Rudy, a petty crime boss. This isn’t just him trying to blackmail Sylus. It's bigger.

"Luke," you asked, your voice barely audible, "did Rudy ask for a ransom?"

"Yeah" he said, his brow furrowed. "The Aether Core that Boss and you found a while ago… Why?"

The pieces clicked into place, a chilling revelation. You feel the realization hit, a weight settling in your chest. This is about the Gaia Research Center. Your Aether Core. And, a wave of icy terror washed over you, Sylus' Aether Core. Three cores, gathered in one place.

"It's a trap" you hissed, your breath ragged.

Your mind raced, a frantic montage of fragmented data, connecting in a horrifying pattern. The lab. The experiments. Ever Group. Your Core. Sylus. They hadn't just been tracking you; they'd been herding you. You shoved yourself away from the terminal, a jolt of pain searing through your ribs. The truth was a glacial wave crashing over you.

"This place—this whole fucking kidnapping—it’s a setup." Your voice is tight, edged with urgency. Luke’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look shocked. He exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the door like he expected trouble any second.

You shot him a glare, your pulse hammering. "Luke—!"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you, Miss." sighing like you’d just told him they were out of coffee. "Always the same—traps, conspiracies…" he muttered, but his usual carefree drawl faltered for just a second. "That's way I told you that we need to get out"

You roll your eyes, going back to the keyboard again, trying to pull up whatever files you can, but most of them are encrypted beyond your access level. It doesn’t matter—you don’t need a full report to see what’s right in front of you.

Luke exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression grim. "We knew Rudy was being funded from somewhere. We traced the money, weapons, resources, everything. But we couldn't find the source." His voice hardened, a dangerous edge creeping in.

You felt quiet for a moment. Connecting the dots. Ever wasn't just backing Rudy for his own twisted reasons. He wasn’t some rogue player in this game. He was a pawn. A tool. An errand boy. Every move Rudy made, every resource he had access to—he was never working alone. He was just supposed to deliver you. If Ever orchestrated all of this, if they knew about your Aether Core long before you did— Your stomach twists violently. There's no way Sylus could have come here without knowing this.

"They wanted both of us here." you say quietly, almost thinking to yourself. Your heartbeat is a war drum in your ears. "Where is Sylus?"

You glanced at the monitor, the progress bar crawling at a snail's pace. 13%... 17%...

"Where is Sylus, Luke?" you repeat, sharper this time.

Before the boy could answer, the control room door slammed open with brutal force, the impact sending a jolt through the floor. Your breath hitched. The big guy, the one who'd left you bruised and battered, stood silhouetted in the doorway, his eyes burning with cold fury. He moved with a terrifying speed, a predator entering its prey's den.

"You're not getting away this time," he growled, his voice a low rumble. Luke was already moving, gun raised— Too late. The Big Guy swung an entire metal chair straight at him. It crashed into Luke's side, sending him skidding into a desk. His gun went flying, clattering across the floor.

"Son of a —!"

You had a second to react before the Big Guy turned on you. Your fingers tightened around your own gun. You fired. He dodged at the last second. The bullet grazed his shoulder, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he ripped a monitor off the desk and hurled it straight at your head. You barely managed to duck. Glass shattered against the wall behind you, shards raining down like knives.

Luke was already back on his feet, intercepting him with a well-aimed kick, determined to keep him from getting too close to you. He recovered instantly, barely phased, and countered with a brutal swing. But it wasn’t enough. Luke dodged, the force of the punch whistling past him. He threw a punch—blocked. The Big Guy caught his wrist, twisting hard—Luke gritted his teeth, countering with a brutal knee to the ribs. But the Big Guy wouldn’t budge, absorbing every hit like a tank. He pushed Luke back, step by step, his attacks relentless.

Then a massive fist slammed into Luke’s stomach. He doubled over with a sharp cough—and the Big Guy seized the moment. With terrifying strength, he lifted Luke and threw him into the nearest console. The impact sent sparks flying, the screen flickering wildly before dying completely.

You fired again—click. Out of bullets. Your heart pounded. You lunged for Luke’s gun, still lying on the floor. Before you could reach it avice-like hand caught your throat, yanking you upright. Your feet left the ground. Panic flared as you clawed at his arm, air vanishing from your lungs. Luke cursed, trying to push himself up, but the Big Guy wasn’t letting go. Your vision blurred at the edges, a mix of suffocation and the burning agony from your broken ribs. His grip tightened. Black spots danced in your vision.

"Let her go!"

The control room door didn’t just open—it exploded inward. A deafening crack split the chaos, followed by a shockwave that sent papers and shattered glass flying. The Big Guy barely had time to turn his head. A shot rang out, sharp and thunderous. The bullet slammed into his shoulder, the sheer force ripping through muscle and bone. His grip on your throat loosened instantly. You collapsed to the ground, gasping, coughing violently as air rushed back into your lungs. The burn of oxygen seared your throat.

Above you, the Big Guy stumbled back, clutching his bleeding shoulder. Then—another shot. This one hit center mass. The impact launched him backward, his hulking body crashing through a desk, flipping it over before he finally hit the ground. The sheer force left a smear of blood across the floor. Smoke curled from the barrel of a sleek, brand-new rifle. Kieran stood in the doorway, shifting his stance, adjusting his grip like he was testing a fresh toy. He gave the rifle a small, appreciative nod.

"Huh. Works like a dream." The Big Guy groaned, trying to move. Luke, who was already standing next to his brother, gave him the final bullet. His body jerked once before going completely still. Luke let out a sharp breath, rolling his shoulder as he lowered his gun.

Kieran flicked his gaze to you, still on the ground, rubbing your bruised throat. With a half-smirk, he muttered, "Oh good, you’re still alive."

"What took you so long?" the other twin complains, still breathless.

"I would have arrived earlier if you hadn't let yourself get beat up. It still hurts." Kieran's gaze flicked to you as you pushed yourself up, still coughing. He extended a hand, and when you hesitated, still catching your breath, he sighed and grabbed you by the arm instead, hauling you to your feet.

"You look like shit" he remarked, unimpressed.

"Feel worse" you rasped, rubbing your neck. But there was no time to dwell on it. Your eyes darted to the terminal—was the data still transferring? Luke was already ahead of you, moving quickly to the computer. The screen was still lit, but amidst all the chaos, lines of text had been replaced with an error message flashing in angry red.

Transfer Interrupted.

You shoved past Luke, hands flying over the keyboard as you tried to override whatever had caused the disconnect. Your heartbeat pounded in your skull—after everything, after all this—no way in hell were you leaving empty-handed.

"Tell me we didn’t lose it" Luke said, voice tight.

Kieran glanced between the two of you, then at the wrecked room. "Hey! I just saved your asses, can I get a…"

"Shut up" you snapped, fingers working furiously. The system was sluggish, likely from the damage, but—

Yes. The progress bar flickered back onto the screen. 91%.

"It’s still going" you breathed.

Luke exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. "We hold for nine percent, then we get the hell out."

Easier said than done. You didn’t know how much more time you had before reinforcements arrived. Kieran slung his rifle over his shoulder, leaning lazily against the overturned desk, keeping his eyes on the entrance.

"I got a couple more rounds left. Hope they send more fun."

Luke shot him a glare. "If they do, I want to use it."

"Guys!" interrupting them "We need to find Sylus."

"What is she—?" Kieran looks at Luke and back to you "What are you talking about?" he scoffed, shifting his weight against the desk. "We weren’t sent here for a full-scale brawl. The plan is simple: get you out, get out alive. And Boss man wipes the floor with Rudy."

Luke sighed, glancing at the progress bar—94%—before looking back at you. "You don’t want to leave him. I get it. But if we stay any longer, we’re pushing our luck."

Your teeth pressed together, eyes darting between them and the still-loading progress bar. Your hands curled into fists. Your heart pounded, a frantic drum against your ribs, a counterpoint to the searing pain.

"Of course, I know that!" you snap, the frustration expands in your chest. Your fists clench, rage bubbling under your skin. "I am not just gonna flee and hope he makes it out! Hope isn’t a fucking strategy!"

Sylus was brilliant, dangerous but even he wasn’t invincible. Not against something this calculated. He always does this. Leaving you behind, which is an incredibly annoying bad habit he has. Even from the beginning. Going on that island. Not giving you a single call, just to come back after days. Or ended up bandaging his wound after dangerous encounters, playing them down. Nor telling where or what he was doing. If you hadn’t dug into Rudy’s case, he would have disappeared without looking back. Leaving to protect you. That part, oh, you hate it the most. So, this lone-wolf act ends now. If he wants you by his side, he’s going to have to raise the stakes. And that means letting you go beyond and assuming the risk and consequences.

The final chime of the terminal cut through the tension. Transfer Complete.

"I’m not arguing with you. I’m finding Sylus." You turned toward the door, ignoring the way your ribs screamed in protest.

Luke sighed, shaking his head. "Wait—"

Kieran let out a low whistle, adjusting his rifle. "Oh, for fuck’s sake."

You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The thought of leaving Sylus behind gnawed at you, clawing its way into your chest, making it hard to breathe. Before you could reach the door, a firm hand clamped down on your shoulder.

Kieran.

"You’re injured, and… barely standing," he said, his tone flat, but his grip unyielding. "This isn’t some romantic rescue mission. You’re going to get yourself killed."

Your nails bite into your palms, your voice tight. "I prefer dying by trying."

Kieran exhales sharply, dragging a hand down over his mask. "Great. And when you die trying, guess who’s next? Us. Because Sylus will fucking kill us both."

Luke just nods, expression flat. "Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather not get skinned alive today."

Kieran lets out a frustrated breath, pacing for half a second before stopping. The way you’re looking at him. Not reckless. Not desperate. Resolute. That quiet kind of determination that people only have when they’ve already made peace with the worst outcome. Kieran’s fingers twitch at his side.

"Fine."

"Kieran—!" Luke facepalm himself.

"But," he cut him off. "I have two conditions. One—we do this smart, or I swear I’ll knock you out myself and drag your unconscious body back."

His brother scoffed. "I second that."

Kieran ignored him. "Two—you better make damn sure Boss doesn’t make us suffer for this. I am not in the mood to spend another month cleaning the damn library."

"Do you have any idea how many books are in there? Too many. The man hoards like he's preparing for the apocalypse." Luke complains.

Kieran gave him a flat look. "And yet, you were the idiot who thought reorganizing them by color would be a good idea."

His brother lifted his chin, indignant. "It looked nice."

Kieran sighs, rolling his shoulders. "Anyways, there's only one way in and out, which means it’s gonna get messy."

You don’t bother hiding the small, determined smile that tugs at your lips.

Luke nodded, already pulling up a holographic map on his wrist-mounted device. "Even if this level isn’t displayed here, it's still a maze. But I can get us to the hangar."

"Then let's move" you said, your voice firm despite the tremor in your legs. The fear was still there, a cold knot in your stomach, but it was overshadowed by a fierce protectiveness. You would find Sylus, no matter the cost. And you would make Ever pay for what they'd done.

Kieran grabs you by the back collar of your jacket. "Stop right there, boss lady, at least tell us what’s your master plan."

___

Sylus sits on the sofa, the silence between him and Rudy stretching on endlessly. His posture remains perfectly composed, despite the mounting impatience gnawing at him. He’s played this game before—negotiations stretched thin with false pleasantries, leverage dangled just out of reach. But this isn’t just another job. This is you. And his patience is wearing thin as paper. The glass of whiskey remains untouched, the golden liquid swirling idly as he watches Rudy. The tension between them is almost tangible. Rudy leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the armrest. Stretching the conversation. Every word, every smirk, is a deceptive tactic, buying them precious time as they execute their plan in the shadows.

"You know," Rudy drawls, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I never pegged you for the sentimental type." He lets the words settle, savoring the moment before gesturing loosely. He watches for a reaction, for the shift in Sylus’s expression, but all he gets is that same unreadable stare. Unbothered. Unmoved. "Still," he muses, swirling the glass in his hand, "I have to admit—your taste is, as ever, exquisite. Especially when it comes to women." A short, sharp laugh cut through the air, followed by a glint of malice in his eyes. "She is a fighter. Like you."

Sylus doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. But there’s a shift—so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. A slow inhale through his nose, the faintest tension in his jaw. A flicker of "Keep that up and I’ll kill you now" behind his eyes. Rudy sees it. He feels it. And it's delicious.

He leans forward, the ice clinking softly in his glass. "Nothing to say?" He tilts his head, goading him. "Come on. You’re not as detached as you pretend to be. Tell me… was she always your weakness?" Rudy exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "No, no. Excuse me. That’s not quite right. Not a weakness. Is it… loveee."

His gaze sharpens, watching for the tension in Sylus’s body. His smirk widens, for a moment Rudy’s mind flickers back to the first time he saw you. Back then, he was surprised. A woman standing next to Sylus? Pretty face, sure, but he hadn’t thought much beyond that. Well, he had underestimated you, like a damn idiot..

The memory is sharp, vivid. That one time you crossed paths, you had kicked his fucking ass. Not in some cheap, lucky-hit kind of way. No, you had humiliated him. Fast, relentless, knocking him on his back so hard he’d felt the impact for days. And the worst part? You had grinned while doing it. Fucking brat. And when he’d staggered back up, humiliated, pissed off beyond reason, he’d seen you standing right next to Sylus. Proud. Unapologetic. As if you belonged there. As if you had always belonged there. That was when he knew you weren't just a random chick or mere entertainment for him. You were his.

That thought makes Rudy’s smirk twitch, his irritation creeping in just enough to sharpen his next words.

"You can try to play it cool, but I bet it’s driving you insane... Thinking about who’s got their hands on her right now. Wondering if she’s calling for you."

Sylus exhales slowly, like he’s indulging a child. "You’re reaching" he murmurs, finally meeting Rudy’s gaze, his voice calm. Too calm.

He let out a low, mocking laugh. He shifts in his seat. "Relax. No need to get all worked up. Like I said, she is fine." He laughs again. "Okay, here is the thing about your lovely girl: She’s valuable." His eyes glint.

"You’re not the type to ask questions, so let’s not pretend you care why she’s valuable," Sylus says, his tone smooth. "You’re just waiting to see which offer gets you the better deal."

Rudy lets out a mock-offended gasp. "That hurts. Truly. You act like I don’t have standards. Like I’d sell to the first buyer who waves some cash in my face. But you're right, I don't ask questions. I’m more the type to profit from the answers." He swirls his glass lazily, watching Sylus over the rim. "And right now, she’s worth quite a lot to some very eager buyers. People who would love to get their hands on her." His smile sharpens. "So tell me, Mr. Sylus… just how badly do you want her back?"

"You made your call, Rudy," Sylus’s tone was smooth and dangerously calm. "You named the Aether Core. Do you really want me to raise the stakes?" He let the silence stretch, his patience fraying, a dark undercurrent beneath his composed exterior. He'd initially pegged Rudy as a small-time hustler, a profit-driven arms dealer. Someone was pulling Rudy's strings, pushing him beyond his usual limits. Someone with influence and resources. If it weren't for that, Rudy wouldn't be talking to him like that.

"You’re not the one calling the shots, are you?" Sylus finally says. "Who's holding your leash?"

Rudy’s smirk twitches, just for a second. "I handle my own business" he says smoothly, but Sylus already sees the crack in his confidence.

"Who are you working for?"

"I don’t work for anyone." Rudy scoffs. "I take contracts. Make deals." He shrugs, but there’s tension in his shoulders. "This time? I just happened to land a very generous arrangement."

Lucrative, and convenient. Sylus’s mind sharpens. His thoughts turned to the evidence he had gathered. He knew Rudy had received substantial financial backing, shipments of advanced weaponry, and access to resources far beyond his usual reach. He is using you against him.

Who would have the means and the motive to orchestrate this? He considered the possibilities. A rival organization, perhaps, seeking to undermine him? Unlikely. They wouldn't use Rudy, a known quantity, a loose cannon. A government agency? Possible, but they would be more subtle, less… theatrical. That left one option, the one that always seemed to lurk in the shadows.

Ever Group.

They had the resources, the influence, and the sheer audacity to pull off something like this. And they had a history of manipulating events, of acquiring power through clandestine means. They were the perfect puppet masters. Sylus's mind worked quickly, analyzing the pieces of the puzzle. They wanted the Cores, that much was clear. But they also wanted you. And they were willing to go to great lengths to get them both. Or wipe Sylus from the map. A thorn in the eye.

Was Rudy playing both sides? It made sense. Take the resources, take the weapons, take the money—pretend to be a good little pawn. But in the end? He had always wanted the N109 Zone. Always wanted to dismantle everything Sylus built, take his place, rip him from the throne. But Rudy wasn’t stupid. He knew he couldn’t do it alone. So what if he played the long game? What if he let those people think he was working for them, took everything they gave him, and planned to use it all against Sylus in the end? A bargaining chip. That’s all you were to him. A means to an end. The only reason Rudy was still breathing was because of you.

Before he can press further, Rudy sighs, stretching his arms. "Look, all you need to know is I haven't delivered her yet." He leans forward, grinning. "And if you want her back, you’re gonna have to offer me something really nice."

Sylus smiles slow.

"Here’s my offer… I won't burn this place to the ground."

Rudy shook his head with a superior smile. "I knew you’d say something dramatic like that. But let’s be real—you’re outnumbered, and your girl? Well…" His grin widens. "She’s not exactly in a position to be making escapes."

The words send a slow, simmering rage through Sylus’s veins, but before he can move, the alarms blare. Shouting. Scrambling.

"What the fuck—?" Rudy curses, standing abruptly as his radio crackles to life.

His first thought is you. His second: The twins. If the alarms were screaming through the halls, that meant one of two things—either something had gone very wrong, or one of them had been stupid enough to go loud.

The shift in the room is immediate. The guards react on instinct, moving like a well-trained pack. The ones stationed near the exits fan out, reaching for their radios. Footsteps thunder overhead as those on the second-floor catwalk adjust positions, rifles raising slightly as their attention sharpens. Above him, the same bastard who’d been watching him since he arrived still hasn’t moved his aim. His rifle remains locked onto Sylus, finger resting just a little too easily on the trigger.

Sylus clenches his jaw, suppressing the frustration clawing at his throat. This is taking too long. His mind starts working through the possibilities, calculating every move. If they were compromised, extraction would be a bloody mess. But more than that—if you were involved, if you were the reason the alarm was blaring—he didn’t know whether to be furious or proud.

One of the guards rushes to Rudy, whispering something low and urgent. Sylus watches the man’s lips move, eyes narrowing as he tries to read them, but before he can catch the words… In one swift motion, Rudy pulls out a gun and shoots the man in the head. The body crumples to the floor with a sickening thud. Sylus doesn’t flinch. He just observes.

Rudy turns back to the others, unfazed. "Find her" he barks over the alarm, gesturing to another of his men. Sylus watches the scene unfold with detached amusement. A circus. A damn circus.

"Oh, have you lost what is mine?" Sylus says, his voice smooth with a hint of amusement, though there’s a cold edge to his words. Rudy barely spares him a glance, too caught up in barking orders, but Sylus doesn’t let him ignore him. He crosses one arm and places a hand to the side of his temple, tapping gently as he smiles cheekily. "This is embarrassing, Rudy. Do you always let things slip through your fingers, or is today just a special occasion?"

The muscle in Rudy’s jaw twitches.

"I want her alive." His voice lowers, sharpened steel beneath velvet. If Rudy was as smart as he claimed to be, he’d take his word seriously. His frustration is palpable as he orders his men around, trying to locate you. The unpredictability of the situation is eating at him. Sylus can see it in the way his fingers twitch, in the way his eyes dart toward the door as if expecting someone to come rushing in with news.

Rudy glares at one of his men, who fumbles with a tablet, scanning security feeds. Sylus catches a glimpse of flashing images—blurred figures moving through corridors, grainy footage of bodies slumped against walls. The power struggle unfolding in real-time. Rudy’s face twists in anger.

"You brought your fucking dogs into my business?" His voice is a growl, teeth bared. "This was a delicate negotiation."

Sylus huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as if Rudy just said something amusingly naive.

"You pulled a stunt like this, and you expected me to play nice?" Sylus huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Besides, they may be my employees, but they don’t always listen to me." His lips curl into even more dangerously smug. "Maybe if you hired people with half a brain, you wouldn’t be in this mess."

Rudy snaps his fingers at his men, rage simmering just under the surface. "Report."

The guard swallows before answering. "No sign of the girl. But we’ve got two intruders, armed. They’ve already taken out at least a dozen of ours."

Rudy drags a hand over his mouth, barely containing his rage. "Find them."

"If your men keep panicking, they’ll end up getting her killed." He leans forward slightly, his gaze steady. "And then, well…" He tilts his head, letting the implication sink in. This moment is a ripple, a distortion in something far deeper than sight or sound.

Sylus leans back, one leg bent lazily as if he’s got all the time in the world. But then— He exhales sharply, his smirk faltering as a sharp pulse rips through his skull. His fingers twitch before he drags a hand over his right eye, pressing the heel of his palm against the faint glowy eye.

The sensation is foreign but so familiar. It claws at his nerves, dragging him into something that isn't his own body, isn't his own suffering, and yet, it seeps into his bones like an echo. And suddenly, the hangar isn’t the only thing he’s seeing. Cold metal. Harsh fluorescent light. He grits his teeth, steadying his breath as the flickering image of the operating table flashes behind his eyelids again.

A table. Operating restraints. A man strapped against the operation table, trembling in fear. Then he feels it, the cold weight of a gun, pointing at him. For a second, his grip tightens, instinctively curling around the metal, but still just an eco in his mind. He’s not holding it but also he is. A wave of emotions hit him all at once. Confusion. Pain. Sorrow. Anger. Layering one on top of each other, beneath all of it as a grounding base: fear. It thrums through him like a living pulse. And this pulse is your, overlapping his own heartbeat until he can’t tell where you end and he begins.

Your rage. Your sheer, unrelenting hatred for the man on the table. You want him dead. No mercy but you hesitate, because you don't want to be carried away by those feelings. Sylus feels the force of your resolve, the sharp edge of your intent.

As you wish, my beloved.

Then he helps you pull the trigger. The sound doesn’t reach him—not in the hangar, not in reality—but the weight of it does. The recoil, the finality, the raw satisfaction that floods through you becomes his. For the first time in ages, it wasn’t just the flicker of an emotion or the whisper of a thought bleeding through your connection.

Sylus pulls in a breath, then releases it, as he drops his hand from his eye, masking the unease simmering beneath his skin. The hangar returns, but the residual ache lingers, dull and intrusive. It takes him a second to remember where he is. Another to shove the sensation away.

You’re truthly full of surprises. Does this mean…?

A pact sealed long ago in the shadows—souls split, entwined, exchanged. Your memories were awakening. His beautiful sorceress… He had been trying to force this for so long. Pushing, pulling, testing your limits—waiting for the moment your mind would crack open and let the past spill through. Just the humming of a long time lost song comes through your mind, the fragment of the ending of your fate back then.

In the process of reminding you of the cruel history you shared. Leaving you bread crumbs wherever they were needed, he had fallen in love with you once again. With who you were now, not so far from who you were then. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he couldn’t lie to you either. What would happen the day you remembered everything? Sylus didn’t know whether to feel relief or fear. Would you still look at him the same way? Or would you see the fiend he truly is and pull away?

Sylus’ fingers tapped against his knee. Why now? Was it the stress? Something had changed. And whatever it was… It meant the past was clawing its way back into the present.

The game of running back and forth between the guards continues for quite a while. The fact that Rudy hasn't attacked him is because he still wants to make the deal. Catching you before the twins do would keep him in the lead. Sylus can only wait, intervening isn't a good idea.

The alarms cut out. The sudden silence is deafening, pressing in on them like a weight. It’s almost worse than the blaring noise before. His radio crackles again. Desperate voices. "Something’s wrong. We’ve lost—" Silence.

The transmission dies.

Sylus can feel the shift, the way Rudy processes the situation in real-time—his plan unraveling, control slipping through his fingers.

Minutes passed, but then—finally—Sylus’s earpiece crackles to life.

"We have her. But Boss…"

The world narrows. The possibility that you’re hurt. The fact that he can’t see you, that he doesn’t know what’s happening in this very second—it digs into him like glass splinters under the skin. An unfamiliar tightness knots in his chest.

"Miss has a plan."

Sylus growls low. He doesn't like where this is going. The plan was extraction. Get in, get you out, eliminate anyone in the way. No unnecessary complications. No risks. If you had resisted, the twins were supposed to drag you out if necessary. And now? Now, you have a plan. You aren’t supposed to be the one planning anything right now. Why can’t you just—?

You’re stubborn. Reckless. Imposible.

He forces out a slow breath, trying to keep his temper in check. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. His pulse thrums against his skin, a slow, pounding reminder that this isn’t just frustration—it’s fear. The kind he never allows himself to feel. The kind that only you can pull out of him. For a moment, just a moment, he considers shutting it down. Ordering Luke and Kieran to override you and get you out, kicking and screaming if they have to.

Then, against his better judgment, a slow smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re doing it again. The frustration burning in his chest twisted, wrapped and changed, spreading in his chest. It should piss him off. But it doesn’t. This is who you are. His reckless, infuriating kitten. He remembers one of these nights where you were hunting Wanderers. A night drenched in neon haze. You were supposed to fall back. Wait. But instead, you lunged. Straight into the chaos, moving like a streak of light cutting through the abyss. Wanderer screaming, closing in from all sides. You could have run. You should have. But instead, you had gripped his hand, squeezing hard to resonate once more.

"Together" That’s all you had said. And he understood. How could he not?

No matter how much you drove him insane, tested his patience, pushed him to the edge, he couldn't let you fall. Because losing you isn’t an option. It never has been. It never will be. That’s why he prefers to hold your hand. Because if you fall then he’ll fall with you. Gladly. Without hesitation. Every damn time. Even if it kills him.

Sylus tilts his head slightly. He will just make the twin pay for this. But right now? Right now, you have his full attention.

"I’m listening."

A/N: I must admit that this chapter was difficult for me to write because I had to be very clear about everything that’s happening. In my original story, which was much shorter, I hadn’t planned for all of this, so I had to make some decisions—decisions that will lead us into chapter 5.

I hope you enjoyed it and want to keep reading!

Released date: ~2 weeks. Chapter 5: Gravity

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

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Reading "in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges" reminded me of why i started following you in the first place...oh the fluff, the angst that hits juuuust rightt, the ease with which how both of them love each other and how fulfilling and wholesome their love is just made me cry, i had to call my partner who's thousand miles away because he loves me the same and i just....i wanna thank you because reading this made m realise I'm this lucky... 😭🥺♥️

Also i love you cuz your Jungkook is how i imagine he is irl🫶🏻♥️

Lots and lots of love being sent your way, sweets ♥️

omg stop i’m sobbing 😭😭😭 been a while since i posted so i was feeling nervous about this one so hearing that brings me so much joy 🥹🤍 thank you so much!!!! and i’m genuinely so happy that you have someone who makes you feel loved :") and you /know/ it as per the theme hehehehe

LOVE YOU!!! 💕💕💕

#art’s post office ☁️#an-ever-angry-bi <3

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starrluvs · 1 year ago

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I have a request! How about a scenario where we have a very ugly and strong argument with Bi-han, but later he comes back to apologize and let us take it out on him for treating us so badly?

(I just want some agressive sex/rage sex/fury sex with this man)

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘/𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw: fem reader, married couple, piv sex, bi-han is a little rough, reader cant stand bi-han's attitude tbh, angry sex, make up/apology sex, fighting for dominance, cock drunk reader, mentions of bi-han dirty talking in cantonese creampie, bi han and reader are both sassy/petty little shits that still love each other, and i think that's it! minors dni please!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: wow idk why this took me so long, but i kinda like this one ;) ... ty for this idea, nonnie <3 i also want to mention that the mention of bi-han speaking/dirty talking in cantonese was heavily inspired by a headcanon i seen from @bihansthot ! anyways, enjoy!!

silent treatment was without a doubt something that bi-han absolutely loathed. he truly believed it’d be better off if you were to scream your lungs out at him instead. but getting a cold shoulder and silent treatment from you was something his ego couldn’t handle. had anybody else dared to ignore his presence the way you had these past forty-eight hours, he’d probably have them executed after the first five minutes of this frivolous behaviour. but you, his wife, was a different case.

bi-han couldn’t discipline or punish you the way he would towards his students and lower ranked lin kuei ninjas. you were his wife– his equal –and this silent game of ‘who’s willing to crack first?’ was driving him mad, although he’d never admit that to anybody… yet.

the fabric of the towel was soft against your hands while you worked on drying out your hair. having just exited the shower, you were in nothing but a silk blue robe that complemented your husband's traditional colour scheme. just the thought of him made you scoff out loud and shake your head, who the hell did he think he was?, you thought to yourself. about two days ago, bi-han appeared to be grumpy when he arrived back at your shared compound after finishing his duties for the day.

being the supportive wife you were, you tried to talk to your husband, ask him if he needed anything from you, or even tried to see if he would be vocal about what was bothering him. and much to your dismay, he lashed out on you as if you were some peasant who worked under him during the day– which you sure as hell weren't.

“leave me be. the last thing i need tonight is another insignificant fool blabbering in my ear constantly.”

his voice was sharp when he walked past you and entered your shared bedroom. bi-han having miserable mood swings wasn’t something new, but he almost never verbally took out his stress on you– possibly because he knew better. truth be told, you were too tired for his attitude today and had no intentions of letting him ruin your peaceful afternoon. all you did was let out a ‘hmph’ that you purposely made loud enough for him to hear and continued in silence with the fruit you were cutting up for yourself in the kitchen.

ever since that transpired, you haven’t said a word to bi-han and completely ignored his presence, which made his blood run colder than it already was. he was a hard person to read when he kept his usual stoic expression, but deep down you knew he was aware of how frustrated you were with him. which is exactly what you wanted.

letting out a tired sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror and take time to fix up your hair before exiting the bathroom and arriving at your bed. as you sat in silence for a moment, you felt the temperature noticeably drop… he’s here. rolling your eyes, you decide to comfortably tuck yourself in on your side of the shared bed and warm yourself up from the chilly air.

however , your eyes never shut– not even when the door creaks open slowly and reveals your husband’s tall form. his demeanour didn’t seem to be as aggressive compared to how it was two days ago, which you were grateful for. but you still avoided eye contact with him and stared at the wall in silence, not wanting to be bothered. you knew your worth and refused to feed into your husband's ego, because you knew that it was already big enough… your thoughts came to a halt when you heard bi-han speak up. “your juvenile behaviour is astounding,” he scoffs, and you can damn near feel his eyes piercing into you.

in response, you calmly grab your pillow and walk right past him, making your way to the living room. bi-han watches you settle yourself down on the couch as you lay down and begin to curl yourself up comfortably. all he does is release a sigh from his lips, contemplating on what his next course of action should be. bluntly calling you childish probably wasn’t the best thing to say after two days of neither of you talking to each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his mind.

deep down he knew he’d have to put his pride and ego aside to resolve this. he was the eldest of three sons, a powerful and deadly assassin, the grandmaster of the lin kuei– and yet here he was, allowing silent treatment from his wife to get under his skin. letting out a stubborn groan, bi-han made his way towards you and knelt down on the mat so that he was at face level with you on the couch.

he calls out your name in the softest way he could, hoping you would turn to him. but he clearly failed to get your attention as you didn’t say anything back. his small whim of patience had already run out, “do you insist on telling me what your problem is?” this time his tone sounded more cold and gruff, as usual. rolling your eyes once again for the night, you turn to bi-han and finally speak to him, “last i recall, i was just a mere insignificant fool blabbering in your ear when i tried to talk,” he could've sworn your tone was sassy, sarcastic and authoritative all at once– as if you were just waiting to bite at him.

if he was being honest, it’s one of the many things he found so attractive about you. the way you didn’t take shit from anybody– not even himself –made bi-han fall hard for you… he needed a strong willed woman by his side. but moments like this proved to be a form of self realisation. the only people who would ever dare to talk back to him were just you and his brothers. he was so used to everyone following his lead and command, it was almost… refreshing, to have somebody stand their ground.

the glare and frown you had on your face was something you were far too beautiful for. bi-han closed his eyes and inhaled as calmly as possible, trying to collect his words and choose them wisely. “what i said to you that day was regrettable–” you cut him off before he could continue, “and?,” you were already unimpressed with his words, “it’s not like there’s anything you can say to take it back.” your husband must’ve known that just words alone wasn’t going to solve this.

“i understand that, but,” his cold hand gently grasps your arm, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “perhaps there’s something i can do to make amends for what i’ve done?”

and now you’re here, back on your shared bed, taking out your own frustration above bi-han on his cock. you had your hands planted on bi-han’s chest as you bounced up and down his shaft, “fuck..!” your voice lost that sting it previously had, making bi-han grow a prideful grin on his face. “still trying to put me in my place?” your husband’s taunting only made you feel more agitated than you already were. with an attempt to keep your moan in, you bite down on your lower lip and snake your hands up to bi-han’s neck, keeping a slight grip. “s-shut– ngh!– up…” the movement of your hips refused to come to a halt, forcing bi-han to lay back and stay below you.

it felt like a battle for dominance between the two of you. two hard headed (and sometimes ignorant) lovers trying to prove to each other how much power they had over one another. bi-han was confident that you knew how easily he could overpower you in terms of strength, but decided to let you have your little wish of ever taking control over him. looking down at him, his chest was covered in sweat and his ears and cheeks were flushed in a light shade of pink. though you’d have to admit that your hands around his neck were a great touch. it felt as if there was a surge of power and control coursing through you.

apart from his occasional groans, the cryomancer stayed silent as he watched your voluptuous body on top of his. noticing your lover’s face contort in pleasure, you can’t help but spew out more words, “yeah… did you r-really, ah!, think that i would tolerate that b-behaviour from y– f-fuck!,” before you could finish blurting out what you wanted to, bi-han had gripped your hips hard enough to stop your movements as he fucked up into you, making you cry out at the sudden surprise of pleasure he was bringing you.

the grandmaster only chuckled. he found your sounds pitiful, “you talk too much.” from the way his cock was jackhammering into you, it proved too difficult to spit out any sort of petty comment towards him. the speed of his thrusts made your body feel limp and your husband took note of this from the moment you slumped down, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his voice was dangerously close to your ear from this angle, “mmm…such an incompetent attempt of being in control,” your pride disallowed you from letting out any moans, “fuck.. y-you..!” hearing how slurred your words were only made bi-han scoff.

your attempts at keeping composure were becoming futile and bi-han knew how close you were to cumming around his length with the way your pussy tightened and gripped him like a vice. “i can feel how close you are, love,” bi-han stops his thrusts but keeps himself fully buried inside of you. before you could get the chance to protest or whine, the cryomancer speaks up. “i have no intention of letting you cum until you accept my apology.” the expression he held was smug while he secured your waist with that same grip he had before, making you unable to move your hips.

you’d been so focused on taking out your frustration on him that you forgot the whole point of this was him trying to make amends for how he lashed out on you. truthfully, you would’ve purposely told your husband that he’d have to take you out on a fancy date in order for you to accept his apology… but you already felt so fucked out from how his cold cock was abusing your insides just moments ago. you were so close, and you needed that coil in your stomach to snap. “fuck, i forgive you– okay? just let me cum already, pleaseee–!” bi-han groans in response and glides a cold finger to press on your clit, making you shiver in pleasure at how swollen and sensitive your bud feels. without any more wasted time, the grandmaster delivers his quick thrusts from underneath you once again and rubs fast circles on your clit.

the feeling of everything was becoming overwhelming, “ahh– ‘s good! it f-feels so g– ngh!” your mind was clouded with lust and each sentence you tried to complete ended up failing to connect coherently. there were words that left bi-han’s mouth, but you could barely decipher what he was saying with the way your heart beat drummed in your ears–

it was in that moment, your cries echoed in the room as you pulsed around his cock, gushing around his member. bi-han reduced the speed of his thrusts while trying to help you ride out your high. once you finally come back down from your bliss, you feel your husband's cold, rough hands manhandle you and flip the position that you two were in. you were now layed on your back as bi-han towered over you, parting your legs and easing between them.

being able to admire your body with the positions swapped felt so refreshing to bi-han. watching the way your breasts heaved up and down with short breaths… the way your skin was coated with sweat, resulting in your hair being out of place from its presentable manner you previously had it in. and being able to see your juices not only coating his cock– but also the inside of your thighs. seeing your slick trickle down to the mattress… gods, you were so beautiful like this.

bi-han couldn’t waste any more precious time just observing when you were unintentionally inviting him to ravish you even more than he already has. the cryomancer grabs your leg and hooks it over his shoulder as he positions himself enough to easily slide his cock into your pussy. being filled up again made your walls flutter– you wanted to be here forever, just taking his cock while it stuffed you full. to no surprise, bi-han’s thrusts were rough as he began to chase his own high.

your moans never came to an end and were only received as noises to push bi-han further. the cryomancer decides to place a grip on both of your legs this time and leans closer, pinning your knees right by your ears and increasing the force of his thrusts. your folded position had you seeing stars as bi-han’s cock was angled even deeper than before. the way his tip kissed your sweet spot again and again– you could no longer stop your tongue from lolling out, followed by drool rolling down from your mouth.

bi-han snickers, “all of that attitude earlier…” he moves closer to your face and his nose touches yours, “just to be reduced to a cock hungry vixen beneath me– shit!” your husband spits out, feeling how your walls clenched around him from his harsh words. even if you were able to coherently speak, you would never admit how much of a mess you become when bi-han works his cock inside of you…

the grandmaster felt himself becoming dangerously close to his climax, and you felt it with the way his rock hard cock twitched inside of you. his volume started to increase and his grunts became shallow moans that he desperately tried to hold back. noticing this, you use the last bit of your energy to purposely squeeze hard around him, clamping your pussy around his cock as if you were trying to keep it all for yourself. the unexpected action made bi-han lace out a loud string of swears and words in his mother tongue. although you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, you were aware that they were phrases he only used in scenarios like this, making you assume that only vulgar words were leaving his mouth.

the roles were reversed now– this time he was the one hiding his face in the crook of your neck with your lips right by his ear. his hips started to stutter and lose the rhythm it previously had. letting out a lustful hum, you speak into his ear, “inside… haah– c-come on..! fuckin’ fill me up, please!” hearing your voice spew out these words was enough to do it– he filled you to the brim with his seed.

you made sure to milk him dry, taking every drop that he had to offer you. both of you laid there, completely fucked out and exhausted– his body was still slouched over yours while he took time to catch his breath. very slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and planted a peck on your lips, “in no other realm would i have imagined reciting vows with a woman that carried such a flame and sharp tongue,” he leans down and places yet another kiss to your swollen lips,

“yet i could never imagine falling in love with anybody else…”

#bi han #bi han x reader #bi han smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat #sub zero x reader #sub zero

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