saybeyonce

[saybeyonce]

familiar

navigation | a/n : i haven’t written anything in months so this might be a little rusty, i’ve had this idea for a while so i hope that it’s enjoyable, lmk if you’d like a part 2! | warnings : depictions of death, character death, sexual tension(?) | tags : @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @knight-of-flowerss | ao3 link

The crew had arrived at a small island only a few moments ago. Nami, Luffy and Usopp went into the town to explore and Sanji had gone searching for some additional ingredients. And of course Zoro went to search for the nearest bar.

The swordsman needed a refreshing pint of beer after the week he’d had. The strawhats continuously had run-ins with the Marines almost every single day. Sanji would not stop flirting with Nami and Luffy and Usopp would not stop bickering. To say Zoro was annoyed was an understatement.

The citizens of ‘Fawn Island’ as they called it, peered at him as he strolled through the street when he finally found a decent bar.

The staring didn’t stop until he found a seat at the counter, Zoro supposed it was the three swords hanging from his side that was grabbing the attention of the people.

The bar  was quiet, the only sounds were the clashing of glasses and the whispering of the customers. Zoro found it surprising that there weren’t any whispers about him like there usually was, instead there were fearful conversations of a creature of the night.

Zoro quickly finished his drink, deciding to save the information for his crew.

“So, has anyone found anything about this island?” Nami asked as everyone gathered on the deck of the Going Merry. Everyone shook their heads apart from Sanji and Zoro.

“They have excellent spices.” Sanji smirked.

Zoro rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Well I actually learned something worthwhile, thought you might be interested.”

“Go on.” Everyone was interested in what Zoro had to say for once. Usually he would comment on the bland taste of the alcohol or the poor customer service of the bartenders.

“I heard some of the villagers talking about a ‘creature of the night’. I think they said it lived on that huge castle on the top of that hill over there.” He pointed to a large ominous building on the other side of the island. “I think they called the creature ‘vampire’ or something.” Zoro had been all over the east blue and heard many stories of mythical creatures and monsters.

“Never heard of that before.” Usopp commented, stroking his chin in thought.

Nami shrugged. “I mean, I’ve heard people talking about something like that but I thought it was just a myth.”

“Well, I say we should find out.” Luffy sported a cheeky grin and Zoro already  regretted telling them about it.

Later on the crew decided to trek to the eerie castle upon the hill. Two hours had passed since they made that decision and Zoro was starting to think they should have listened to the villagers warnings. The villagers warned the strawhats not to go to the castle at night, but of course Luffy was not one to listen.

Luffy led the group with Usopp trailing not far behind him. The others spared concerned glances at each other as the fog began to thicken and the trees began to lose their leaves.

The air began to get colder and none of the lights from the town below could be seen. Soon enough they reached the castle which looked more like ruins from the outside. Luffy banged on the old wooden doors and the chains rattled from the force.

“How are we going to get in?” Usopp asked.

“Hopefully not at all.” Muttered Nami.

Eventually the Captain found an entrance at the side of the ancient building and decided that everyone should split up and explore. Luffy and Usopp paired up and so did Nami and Sanji leaving Zoro to explore by himself.

The various paintings and statues littering the hallways sent a shiver down the swordsman’s spine. The paintings depicted many deaths, beheadings and things of the sort. The statues had eyes that felt like they were watching you. Zoro didn’t feel fear, but this castle was giving him bad vibes.

Not a sound could be heard but the creaking of his own footsteps. Zoro decided he had had enough of exploring and made his way to find the rest of the crew when he walked past a painting he swore wasn’t there before.

This painting was the only one that didn’t show a brutal death. The painting depicted a woman, but not just any woman. Whoever this was had a strong presence and commanded respect. Zoro completely forgot what he was going to do, completely taken by the woman.

“Do you like it?”

The voice made him jump back and he quickly whipped around to see the source. When Zoro turned, he found the woman from the painting.

She smiled at him and he noticed a glimmer of a sharp fang between her lips. Zoro didn’t know much about creatures of the night or the fact they ever existed at all, but this woman was exuding an aura of mystery and darkness.

“That’s you, isn’t it?” Zoro hesitantly asked.

The woman nodded and smiled, this time her fangs were on show. “I had it done a couple of decades ago.”

Surprisingly she didn’t ask what he was doing in what he presumed was her home. She just continued to smile at him.

“So what the villagers said about this place was true.” Zoro carefully lifted one of his swords. “A creature of the night does live here.”

The woman’s smile instantly dropped. “Take your hands off your sword.”

The swordsman did as she said, not wanting to alert her. “We didn’t mean to intrude, we heard stories and my captain wanted to check this place out.”

The woman leaned into him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You should have knocked on the front door then. Well! Feel free to look around as you have been doing. If I come across your crew I’ll say hi.”

She turned her back to him and began to walk down the hall but stopped when Zoro called out to her. “Hey Lady! If you try to kill my crew I’ll kill you.”

The woman turned her head towards him and laughed. “Do you even know how to kill a vampire?”

“This place is creepy as hell.” Nami commented. The crew had met back up in the center of the castle and had seen their fair share of spooky paintings.

“I think it’s cool!” Luffy, ever the optimist, liked the place.

As the crew discussed their next move, none of them noticed the sounds of footsteps coming towards them. Instantly Zoro felt her again. She was watching them.

“You can all stay for dinner if you like.” The woman’s voice interrupted the crew, making them all swiftly turn to look at the staircase. She began to descend down the stairs not taking her eyes off of Zoro.

“Who are you?” Usopp’s voice quivered, he was clearly intimidated by this woman’s energy. Even Sanji was too intimidated to make a flirty comment.

“I live here. Did your friend not tell you?” She gestured to Zoro who now felt uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him.

“I forgot.”

She hummed in response, finally taking her eyes off of him to inspect the crew. “You all look hungry, you should stay for a little longer.”

The straw hats ended up taking the woman up on her offer. She let Sanji run riot in her kitchen. Soon enough a delicious feast was prepared and everyone sat down at a large table in the very large dining room.

The candles which decorated the walls were the only source of light besides the light of the full moon shining down on the windows. Everyone chatted quietly as they ate their food, but the woman didn’t eat. Instead she peered at each of the crew individually before her eyes found Zoro.

“I don’t believe I ever got your name.” Zoro’s attention was stolen from his glass of wine to look up at the woman. She looked at him with a sort of familiarity and longing. What did she think when she saw him?

“It’s Roronoa Zoro. What’s yours?”

The woman seemed completely taken by him as she answered. “It’s Y/N. I-”

“So what’s your story?” Nami interrupted. “I mean, you’re in this castle all alone and the villagers like to make up rumours.”

“Oh I know.” The woman replied. “This castle has been my home for nearly a century.”

The crew looked at each other in panic and the woman laughed. “What they say is true, I am a creature of the night. Ever heard of vampires?” Everyone but Nami and Zoro shook their heads. “You should do your research, even though half of what the books say is true.”

Usopp tightly gripped onto his slingshot. “Are you gonna kill us?”

The woman chuckled again and shook her head. “I don’t kill. Travellers give themselves up to me in hopes I’ll share ‘the gift’. I wouldn’t make someone into a vampire ever.”

Luffy and Usopp seemed more at ease with the woman’s reassurance, but the rest of the crew were still a bit on edge. Sanji finally spoke up. “Have you been alone this whole time?”

The woman’s amusement at their fear seemed to have disappeared at the question.

“No.” Y/N’s curiosity about these people had vanished. She had not been alone at first, no. These people seemed trustworthy even if they didn’t seem to trust her. “I lived here a long time ago with my husband.”

She took a sip of what she knew the crew assumed was blood. And they would be right. A traveller had made his way up to the castle a few nights before begging to be turned. Of course Y/N refused but he wouldn’t listen, so she drank him dry.

“What happened to him?” The boy in the straw hat asked.

Y/N hesitated before answering. “That’s a story for another time.”

“We don’t mind we have all night.”

Y/N looked around at them all wondering if she should share her story. Deciding she should, she took one last gulp of her drink and settled in the chair.

“It was a long time ago, when almost every island had a king or some kind of ruler. When I was human, I was sold off to the King of this island to be his Queen. He was a cruel man and treated his people poorly, but he needed to carry on his reign by any means necessary, even if that meant marrying a commoner. You would think that being married would make anyone happy. I thought that I would be content at least. I was happy in my town, and then I was forced to live in this miserable, dreaded castle with the most horrible man I’d ever met. My salvation was one of the guards of the town.”

Y/N paused and scanned their faces. Each one of them seemed to be interested in the story, including the swordsman who was so familiar to her. She continued to watch him as she carried on.

“His name was Kanji and he was everything the King was not. He was the only person that I had any affection for, before and after I was sold off to the King. Perhaps that was why the King hated me so much, because I wasn’t devoted to him like a ‘good wife’ should’ve been. All of my love was not his to use to manipulate and control.”

The crew watched on as Y/N as she recalled her human life. “All I wanted was to find a little bit of happiness in my miserable life. So I would tend to the gardens, speak with the staff and at night…I would meet with Kanji. I would shower him with my repressed love and we would spend the nights together until dawn. Until one day, he wasn’t there.”

The crew were entirely enthralled in the tale, they were almost on the edge of their seats. “So? What happened to him?” Asked Sanji.

Y/N looked up from her glass. “One of the other guards had discovered us one night and instantly knew the nature of our involvement. He ran off and told the Captain who informed the General. And then Kanji was ripped away from me just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “The one reason I chose to still live a life full of misery and pain, all because he was my one source of light in my endless ocean of darkness. The King wouldn’t even let me have that. If I was not his I could not be anyone else's. I think you can imagine what happened to Kanji.”

There was a pause as the story sank in. Every time Y/N thought of her beloved Kanji, her unbeating heart would be overcome with a sharp pain as if she was being stabbed in the chest by the blade of sorrow. It didn’t help that the man sitting to her right was the exact replica of him.

Y/N sighed loudly, feigning fatigue. “You all look tired after your long journey up the mountain. Feel free to find any room to stay in for the night.”

With that, she swiftly exited the dining room and made her way towards the other end of the mansion where her bedroom was located.

The picture laid old and wrinkled, the years that passed by of the photo being taken quickly reflecting the poor quality. The edges were tattered and some were tearing, but Y/N held it to her heart as though it was something sacred.

A picture of Kanji hidden under her pillow. For decades it laid under the soft fabric untouched, its keeper being unable to even glance at it.

The red tears came as they always did when Y/N spoke of Kanji. Whether it was to an audience or even to herself. The grief of the love she once had was too much. She often wondered if Kanji would love her if he knew what she was now. A part of her was glad he didn’t live to see the monstrous blood thirsty side of her, for it was inevitable that she would have been turned.

The bitter cold of the winter nipped at her flushed cheeks. The harshness of winter would not stop the Queen from meeting with her secret lover.

The Queen was overcome with excitement of meeting with her love that she didn’t notice the pair of golden eyes watching her. She only became aware of the presence when it made itself known.

“I’ve been watching you for some time.”

The queen quickly turned around and came face to face with a tall figure. The creature loomed over her and stared into her eyes as if it was searching for her soul.

“You are empty. Living in this dreary place has made you unhappy. Your only source of happiness has perished, you have nothing left.”

The queen quickly became overwhelmed with shock.Was this thing talking about Kanji? Was he one of the King’s spies?

 She didn’t remember much after that because she became paralysed with fear.  All she could remember was the creature saying, “I can make you happy again.” Then a sharp pain in her neck and an aching in her muscles. Her vision became clouded and she felt her body drop onto the cold hard concrete.

The next time she would wake up would be in complete darkness and an insatiable hunger for flesh. The beating hearts of the humans surrounding her would become the only sound she would hear, and the only thing she would see when she looked at them was the blood g pumping around their bodies.

Knock, knock

Y/N was snapped from her trance from a knocking at her door. She quickly made her way over to it, opening it to reveal Roronoa Zoro.

They both stared at each other for what felt like a milena, but was only half a second. “I think I got lost-” “Would you like to come in?”

Oh.

A few stutters came from Zoro as he considered the offer. He brushed past Y/N and looked around her room.

The windows were shielded with thick velvet curtains, a large coffin was in the center, and an unused queen sized bed. It seemed that this room and the dining room were the only ones that were looked after.

“I was looking for another spare room but my friends took the only good ones.”

“Well, there is always my late husband’s room.”

Zoro turned to look over his shoulder as if to say ‘really?’ and Y/N chuckled at his facial expression. 

“So what’s the deal with the bed and the coffin?” Zoro questioned as he sat himself down on bed.

“The coffin is where I rest,” Y/N made her way over to the bed and wrapped her hand around one of the wooden frames. “And the bed is for people I find interesting.”

Zoro eyed her carefully. “Do you find me interesting?”

Y/N moved closer to him before she was nearly standing between his spread legs. “Very.”

She brought her cold hand up to his warm freckled cheek. His eyes were as dark as the dirt in which she should have been buried long ago. “I knew you in a past life. You feel as warm as he felt. I never thought I would feel him against my cold, dead flesh.”

“I’ve heard stories about reincarnation. I’d never have thought that I would be an example. Do I really look like him?”

The more Y/N looked at him, the more he became foreign to her. “You are not Kanji. You are Roronoa Zoro. The demon pirate hunter, I’ve heard your name be passed around on the streets. You are familiar to me in many ways.”

“Just not this body.” Zoro grounded himself, and her with his four words. It made the situation feel surreal to the swordsman and the vampire. “You’re not familiar to me at all, but I felt something when you first spoke to me. It gave me a vague idea.”

There was a connection with Y/N that Zoro had never felt with anyone. Her icy touch  was unfamiliar, but comforting to him. He didn’t have the memories of Kanji, but there were some feelings he was sure his past self must have felt when looking at the enigma which was Y/N.

“I think I could get familiar with you.”

[saybeyonce]

I’m Going to Michaels

Texting the LADS Men you’re going to Michaels A/N: Text your man (or girl) and tell them you’re going to Michaels and tell us what they say

[saybeyonce]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 12

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.6k

cw: angst, very vague allusions to self harm, semi-crash out from em i guess (?), hurt/comfort technically, yearning tbh, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns (i try to avoid that but sorry), im getting really casual with these content warnings, mostly bc i think no one reads what i actually write up here

Synopsis: While you talk with Rafayel, Sylus gets a visit from someone he thought had disappeared. (i’m bad at synopses)

author’s note: this took me a little longer to put out so im sorry >_< im really looking forward to writing zayne next though! then caleb and then its reader and em again and its gonna get crazy and then im gonna put up a poll so y’all can decide how i end it! i hope y’all are excited lol im getting closer to the end and its making me kinda sad cause i love this series but i have multiple ideas for different series so i might have multiple ongoing after this <3

taglist: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel @xyzbeloved @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @myheartfollower @nightmarewasteland @feralwolfkat @junni-berry @chiikasevennn @lethalasylum @loudpiratepirate @sweetnightowl @rafaissance @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @iunse @asilaydead

Series Masterlist

Onychinus’s base was quiet. Its occupants were comfortably off fulfilling their own tasks, no last-minute crises disrupting them. An unexpected peace settled, though an air of anticipation filled the space.

Sylus had been eyeing the door since you left this morning. Just like he had when you left yesterday.

He knew he shouldn’t worry. He knew you could handle yourself.

He also knew he was going to worry anyway.

You came to him after your talk with Xavier last night, a serious, somber expression painted on. You were quiet at first, sorting through the conversation. He let you. You’d filled Sylus in then, just enough to keep him updated, to know everything was fine. He respected your privacy, the distance you kept with such a sensitive subject, though he wished you’d confide in him.

Allow him to give you shelter from the storm in your eyes.

You’d stopped him, before you left for bed. Told him not to worry. It was sweet of him, you’d said, but unnecessary. That he didn’t need to give Luke and Kieran a task as boring as watching you talk to Xavier, that you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

Sylus didn’t tell you that he knew that, too. He didn’t tell you that he wanted Luke and Kieran to watch you with Xavier to see if you were interested in him, interested in a way Sylus couldn’t compete with.

Instead, Sylus told you he’d let you be. Not before making you promise to tell him if something goes wrong, though. He’s only a phone call away, after all.

Even a panicked look to Mephisto would do.

You nodded, assuring him that he would be the first person you’d call if things went haywire.

He wasn’t quite sure if he believed you, but he relented nonetheless.

So, when you left the base early this morning, just as Sylus’s business day was ending, he’d told Luke and Kieran to simply drop you off where you asked, no need to watch you.

Of course, now his eyes hadn’t wandered from the front door.

Even as the dark circles under his eyes sunk deeper and his shoulders drooped, Sylus stayed. Waiting patiently.

He wasn’t sure when you’d be back. He just wanted to see you as soon as you were. Make sure you were okay under the guise of a smug smile and a teasing remark.

It wasn’t worth risking the raw vulnerability embedded in his worry if you had another man in your heart, after all.

The soft click of the back door pulled Sylus’s head up, listening carefully to the barely audible footsteps padding through the hallway behind him. Two sets, he noted. Luke and Kieran.

The tension in his shoulders relaxed again as he turned to see the two boys unceremoniously drop onto the couch.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep, Boss?” Kieran asked.

“I’m alright,” Sylus answered shortly.

“You sure, Boss-man?” Luke pushed. “Looks like the bags under your eyes could carry the weight of the world.”

Sylus stared at the twins. “Don’t you two have something better to do than worry about my sleeping habits?”

“Oh, that’s right!” Luke starts, sitting up. “I almost forgot why we came here.”

Kieran sighed. “We’re here to give you a report on the tracking.”

Sylus nodded. “Continue.”

“Looks like Em and Caleb have been staying at his apartment in Skyhaven since Little Boss came here. Haven’t been outside much,” Kieran explained.

“Yeah, they’ve just been holed up in there together. From what we could tell, things looked pretty tense,” Luke said. “But it was pretty much the same thing for a week. Except today. Em left early, about 7:30. Caleb left at 8:00. Went to the Fleet, a new mission or something. We couldn’t track him very far, too high of surveillance on the Colonel.”

“We could track Em after she left, though,” Kieran continued. “She boarded the Coelum Express at 8:00, arriving back in Linkon at 10:00. She first went to her apartment, where she checked every room before leaving. Then she went to the Hunter’s Association.”

“She went to her desk immediately, and she was stopped by Tara and Simone. They talked for about five minutes before Jenna called Em over,” Luke listed off. “Em reported on her most recent mission and then said she had to go. Then she went to Research, talking to Nero very briefly where he gave her very vague answers. Em then sought out Xavier, who seemed more worried about how panicked she looked then answering the questions she asked him.”

Sylus nodded. “Seems like everything’s following the plan,” he muttered. “Where is Em now?”

Kieran shifted on his feet. “That’s the thing, Boss,” he confessed. “We lost her.”

Linkon was incredibly lively.

Bustling streets filled with locals and tourists alike. The chatter rose, echoing through the city so that even the quietest corners were filled with the hum of connection.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

You navigated the busy streets, wondering just how anyone could manage to live here permanently.

Wondering how the you from before you landed in Love and Deepspace did it.

You’d almost forgotten it, how this life wasn’t really your own. You were filling in the slot of a life already lived, already planned, that you had no recollection of.

Was that person from before really you? Or did you steal the life of another, taking what they deserved?

Feeling your chest tighten, you tried to focus on your breathing instead.

In through the nose, out through the mouth.

It wasn’t like the feeling was new. On the contrary, you often felt like your life wasn’t really your own. Like it wasn’t real, you weren’t real. That all that you’d experienced before was just a precursor to what life really was, what it was supposed to be. Almost convincing yourself that the life you had couldn’t be real, because wasn’t life supposed to be more than that?

Maybe you were still that kid reading Narnia, waiting for a world at the end of the Wardrobe to find her.

You were almost getting better, you thought as you sat down at a cafe. Your hands itched at your thighs, the lengths you’d gone to feel real again a constant reminder.

But then you got dropped into Love and Deepspace. A world that, as far as you were concerned, was just a game come to life.

This wasn’t real, you told yourself. Which is why the fulfillment this life brought hurt all the more.

You thought of what Xavier had said when you told him. How he wasn’t really surprised.

That had caught you off guard at first, but it all clicked when you thought about it later.

Xavier hadn’t been your favorite Love Interest, but there was always something there you connected to. Something quiet, lurking there but not making a show out of itself.

Xavier was never really present, it felt. He was quiet, reserved, always lost in his mind or his dreams.

Always thinking of something else, always something taking his focus, never truly being in the moment.

It made sense he would almost expect a twisted reality, after all he’s seen.

But then you thought of what he’d said after.

It’s real to me. That’s enough.

You hadn’t understood at the time, hadn’t gotten how he could so easily live with that doubt.

How could you live with the possibility that this life might not completely be your own?

But maybe that’s what you were missing. That doubt is just a part of life. No one’s ever really sure, you thought, and that’s okay.

Our reality is what we make it.

It seems this is your reality now. If this is what you have, it’s time to make the best of it.

Sylus was now settled in his office, eyelids still feeling heavy as he watched the security screens. He watched as you made your way to Mo Art Studio, Mephisto patiently watching you from a distance. He wouldn’t know what you were talking about, but he could see if anyone laid a hand on you, and that was enough for him.

Luke and Kieran had run off to who knows where, to sleep or to prank Sylus didn’t know. It was negligible to him, what they did. They had limits, he knew, and he could clean up any messes they made.

It had been a while since their last prank, though, so Sylus kept an eye on the door behind him. He wouldn’t put it past them to do something now, especially since he’s so tired and out of his element.

Sylus didn’t flinch when the door slammed open. Didn’t flinch when his chair was aggressively pulled back from the desk.

What gave him pause was, instead, the click of heels against the floor.

The feeds were immediately cut, any glimpse of what they had shown gone as soon as the door opened.

A security measure Sylus was now thankful he’d implemented.

“Where is she?” Em hissed.

Sylus rose from his chair leisurely, letting out a deep breath. “I don’t know who you’re referring to.”

“You know damn well who I mean!” she exclaimed. “I saw Mephisto outside that morning. I shooed him away, but when I came back she was gone.”

“What a shame.” Sylus smirked. “If you’d let him be, he might have seen who took her.”

“I know it was you, Sylus, just admit it! I saw your stupid bird outside, and that same day she was gone!”

“And obviously, that means I took her.” Sylus raised an eyebrow.

“Well, who else would have?” she asked.

“Enlighten me,” Sylus sighed. “What reason would I have to take your little friend?”

“I don’t know,” Em groaned. “All I know is she’s gone. I—” Her breath caught, eyes watering ever so slightly. “I lost her,” she whispered. “And now I can’t find her.”

Sylus inhaled sharply, staying quiet for a few beats. “You lost her,” he began softly. “Have you ever considering she doesn’t want to be found?”

Mo Art Studio was bright, elegant, a seaside paradise. The soft crash of waves could be heard throughout the grounds, a view of the changing tides almost always visible. You checked your phone again, seeing Rafayel’s latest confirmation that it was okay for you to stop by. The gates in front of the studio were intricate and, most noticeably, open.

You hesitantly made your way through the grounds, stopping just before the front door. With a deep breath, you pushed it open, immediately met with the smell of paint, canvas, and seafood. Rafayel was easily spotted in the open floor plan, situated in an awkward position in front of a canvas.

“Great timing, cutie,” he said as he cast his paintbrush aside. “If I stayed in that position any longer, I’d probably be stuck like that.”

You chuckled as he stretched, white shirt opening slightly. You remained silent as he walked towards you, leaving down slightly to match your height.

“Now, cutie, why did you need to see me so urgently?” he asked.

“I’ve got something important to tell you,” you said, wringing your hands.

Rafayel straightened up. “Do you want to go walk on the beach for this?” He pointed back towards the opened French doors behind him.

Nodding, you took his hand as he led you out onto the sand.

You both discarded your shoes once you got off the boardwalk through the dunes, allowing the sand to shift under your bare feet. The incoming waves nipped at your heels as you took a deep breath.

“Do you remember the first time we met, that painting we were looking at?”

“Of course,” he nodded, “I loved that piece. So did you. But, it didn’t sell.”

“And you remember what you said about when you painted it? How that afternoon was really weird, like the universe was trying to fit in something new?”

Rafayel nodded again, the crease between his brows growing deeper.

“That afternoon was weird for me, too.” You exhaled. “See, I’m not from here, not like you are. I’m from a— a different world. I think that was what was weird about that day. It was me coming into this world.”

Rafayel stared at you. A few beats of silence passed. “So… so what? You’re saying there’s other worlds? Other dimensions? How did you even get here?” he sputtered. A deep sigh. “I knew something weird happened, I just didn’t think…”

“I don’t know how it happened. All I know is, I was there one moment, and the next, I was in Linkon,” you explained.

“Is it that Deepspace tunnel?” he muttered.

“There’s another thing,” you said sheepishly. “In my world, there’s this game, Love and Deepspace.” You tried to explain it slowly, carefully. You explained the events of the Main Story, everything that had happened that even he didn’t know all about. You left out the memories, the romantic moments stolen away that hadn’t happened yet.

You told him about the past lives, though, all that you knew. You watched as a myriad of emotions passed through his eyes, the ghosts of past loves haunting him.

“You know what’s going to happen, then? How it’s going to end?” he asked quietly.

“Not really,” you admitted. “I just know a lot about what has happened, even the things other people haven’t noticed.”

With barely a nod, Rafayel turned to the incoming ocean. Treading the water, his pants were soaked, up through the calf with salt staining the silken black.

“She had my heart,” he whispered, keeping his back to you. “I guess I never had hers, though.”

You took a step forward, the waves lapping at your legs. Pearls dropped, one by one, to the ocean, their tiny splashes becoming lost in the moving tides.

“Rafayel…” you began.

He turned to you, eyes bright and swirling like the eye of a hurricane. “She was never really going to be mine, was she? Not wholly, not completely.” He let out a dull, empty laugh. “Not in this life, not in the last, not in the next. I guess I was never really meant to have a love like that. All I get is something not meant to last, but something that can’t seem to let me breathe without aching.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking.

“Do you know… what happens to me? The bond, it’s still—”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I really don’t know.”

“Then… did she ever really love me?” His hands trembled at his sides, the hurricane in his eyes nearly spilling out.

You rushed forward, taking your hand in his. “Of course she did,” you murmured. “She’s always loved you. I think she always will.” You laughed lightly. “I don’t know if it’s ‘meant to be’ like you say, but I think anyone would be foolish not to love you.”

Rafayel chuckled, looking back to the sun’s rays across the ocean before his gaze met yours again, leaning down once more so he was eye-level with you.

“Well, well, cutie. Does this mean you love me, too?” He grinned.

You glanced away, feeling your cheeks warm up. He moved next to you, pulling you against him with an arm around your shoulder.

Pressing a kiss to your hair, he whispered, “Thank you, cutie. That’s more than I need. She was never meant to willingly give me her heart. Maybe its time I find a new muse.”

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

[saybeyonce]

Mc being a sailor guardian and protecting Rafayel😂

[saybeyonce]

Ivy League

Spring Semester : Freshman Year🌸🌷☔️📚

Premise: Based on this post by PomeRinn aka @waterrinmelonn All the boys are modern rich international kids going to a prestigious university. They’re attending Yale, an Ivy League University in the American Northeast. They're all the same age. My FMC will end up with only one of them in the end.

Content Warnings: Mildly Suggestive & Explicit Language. Tooth-rotting fluff. Caleb angst. Mentions of animal abuse (they’re fine) & drugs (but it’s not). To be safe, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 7k

Part One

If you thought going home for winter break would be relaxing, you were very wrong. Right after finals, the student lead newspaper announced they were going to bring on new writers. The deadline for the application, which required a sample article, was before classes began in the spring. You’d spent all break curled up in bed with your laptop, writing and re-writing. 

Caleb had successfully dragged you to a New Years party, but when midnight struck and Marsha Matthews kissed him you left early. To his credit, he didn’t initiate, but he had danced with her most of the night so you can’t blame Marsha for thinking he was interested. He spent the rest of the break trying to apologize. The road trip back to Yale was tense, but you finally broke the silence to try and smooth things over. When he dropped you off at your dorm room things certainly felt a little more normal. 

Tara texted, letting you know she’d be arriving on campus a day late so you had the room to yourself for the night. You made yourself comfortable and revisited your application. You’d written a political piece about voting, a review for a new horror movie you saw with Caleb before Thanksgiving, a historical piece about the architecture at Yale, but nothing felt good enough. It wasn’t you. So you started writing a random short story, hoping it would inspire you.

Childhood best friends who went to college together, finding purpose, plot twists, it was fun to just write for the sake of writing. While you got the creative juices flowing, you still had no direction for the sample. A soft knock at your door makes you jump, you’d left it unlocked since you were in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, far too cozy to emerge to answer the door. 

“Come in!” 

The door opens slowly, the hinges squeaking, Sylus pokes his head inside, smirking when he sees you curled up on your bed. You had the hood of the hoodie Tara gave you for Christmas pulled up so the cat ears flopped forward, you knew what was coming. 

“I didn’t realize you’d like my nickname for you that much, kitten.” 

You roll your eyes and beckon for him to come in. He strolls in, leaving the door open. He sits at the end of your bed, kicking his boots off before tucking his feet under your throw blanket.

“Making yourself at home?” You feel his toe poke your thigh and you swat his foot. He chuckles, damn, you’ve missed that sound.

“What are you working on? The semester hasn’t even started yet.”

Rubbing your temples, you groan, frustration boiling over.

“The student paper is hiring new writers and I… I thought maybe I should apply. Now I’m not so sure. The application is killing me.”

“The student paper? Have you decided on a major then?”

You shake your head, closing your laptop and pulling a giant snowman plushie onto your lap. Your dorm room was still decorated for the holidays and you’re sure Tara won’t want to take it all down until at least February. And you wouldn’t fight her on it. Resting your chin on the snowman’s head, you close your eyes.

“I’m still undecided. But I like writing, so I thought I’d at least apply and see what happens.”

“You should.” He pokes your thigh again. “Let me guess, they want a sample of your writing?”

Opening your laptop, you pull up your best piece and pass it over to him. He reads silently, fully aware that you’re watching his every move. His brows pinch together, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“This is… good.”

“You hate it.”

“No. It is good, it just… isn’t you.” He senses it too.

“I have two days until the deadline. Maybe I should just–”

“I have an idea.” Sylus interrupts. You cross your legs and sit up straighter. “What about… an interview with the son of a famous model?”

You’re gonna throw up.

“And maybe some exclusive pictures from his short lived modeling career?”

“You modeled?!” Your voice cracks and he rubs his chin, trying to appear deep in thought.

“What? You don’t think I’d make a good model?”

Yeah, you’re gonna throw up.

“No! I mean, yes, you would… But I… I just…” He lifts his hand to stop your blabbering.

“I’m sorry, you’re just too fun to tease.” You huff and cross your arms, like a kitten hissing but tucking her claws away. “I modeled as a kid, did a couple shoots with my mom. I’d have to check with her, make sure it’s okay. Your article would probably end up on the internet, don’t want to make her life harder. That energy is reserved for my old man.”

You raise a brow, he’s never mentioned his dad. Now it seems like that is very much on purpose. You lean forward and squeeze your plushie tighter.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Do you want to join the paper?” You hesitate, nodding slowly. “Then let me help.”

“You’re sure you want your childhood photos passed around campus?”

“It’s better than someone finding shit online. This way, I control the narrative.” 

He pulls out his phone, holding it to his ear a second later. Your eyes widen, is he calling his mom? Right now? Is this really happening?

“Privet Mama.” Oh good god, he speaks Russian. Of course he does, why are you surprised? 

“Yest' zapros.” 

He speaks quickly, even if you knew basic Russian you doubt you’d be able to follow. You watch him, when he blushes you immediately cover your mouth to stop from smiling. A rough around the edges guy like Sylus blushing is too precious. He glances at you, catching you staring. He smirks and rolls his shoulders back.

”Spasibo, Mama, lyublyu tebya. Do svidaniya.” 

He hangs up, but continues to stare at his phone. Just as you’re about to say something, your phone dings. When you pull up the text from him, you see there’s at least a dozen images attached. Without even looking at the pictures, you launch yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You cringe as you realize how silly you must look, but his hands slide up to hug you back. 

It’s only after you hear someone clear their throat that you move. You look up to see Caleb in your doorway. Your stomach drops, while you knew the hug was innocent, you’re sure it didn’t look that way to him. With Sylus sitting on your bed, half tucked under a blanket. 

“Caleb! Sylus is helping me write my sample article for the newspaper application!”

He nods slowly, his shoulders tense. You wiggle your way out of your cozy cocoon and walk over to him. He hands you a bag of takeout, before turning to leave. You step into the hallway after him and grab his arm.

“Caleb… stop.” He stops, but doesn’t turn around. “He really is helping me with the application. I know it looked like… I know…”

“You said it yourself, Pips.” He spins to face you. “On the drive back, you said we’re adults. We can do what we want, with who we want. You said you wouldn’t stop me, so I won’t stop you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. You watch him walk down the hall and through the door to the stairwell. You think about chasing after him, sitting him down, forcing him to listen. You know it wouldn’t help make this any easier. You know how you feel. You love Caleb, but you’re not in love with him. Your eyes water the more you think about losing him completely.

“You okay?” Sylus comes up behind you, his voice low. When you don’t respond, he cautiously puts an arm around your shoulder. “I can talk to him, if you want?”

“No. No… Let’s uhh…” You back away from Sylus and re-enter your room, putting the takeout on your desk. “Let’s start your interview. Go over the photos and all that.”

He humors you, lets you avoid the “Caleb situation” for a while longer. He returns to his spot on your bed and you open a new document, deciding then and there to pour your sorrow into writing the best damn sample piece the editors will ever read. 

🌸🌷☔️📚

Your application is immediately accepted and your piece is published in the next issue. Tara made a collage of the photos: glitter glue, stickers, the works. She put it right on the door to your room. Sylus didn’t mind the extra attention, he barely paid any attention to it actually. Girls asked him to sign their copies, even when you - the author - were right next to him. He started putting symbols instead of his name in English. The girls didn’t care, they’d flip their hair and wave as they walked away. When you finally asked him about it, his smile turned devious. 

“It’s Korean.”

“Is it your name?” He laughs. “What are you writing then?!”

“It’s different everytime. Sometimes it’s just ‘rice’ or ‘potato’.” 

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggles. His laugh gets louder, drawing the attention of those around you in the dining hall. 

“You’re a menace.” 

“And you’re my partner in crime.” He says with a wink.

Your class load wasn’t too stressful, more gen-ed courses. But you decided to spice things up, especially since you haven’t declared your major. What possessed you to sign up for a ceramics class? You had two weeks of pottery lessons your freshman year of high school and suddenly you have the confidence to take a college level course? Okay. Sure. Thankfully, you lucked out with Rafayel in your class. When your first attempt at the wheel turned into utter chaos he voluntarily sat next to you. He regularly left class with splatters of clay all over his clothes, but he never complained. 

“I can help you get a feel for it, if you want?” He offered.

“I can’t believe I need a tutor for ceramics.” You mumble, staring at the misshapen lump of clay before you. 

“Come on now cutie… You’re not awful, you’re just not good.”

“Rafayel!” 

He snickers while he moves his stool behind you. Before you can ask, he sits and wraps his arms around you.

“You’ve seen that movie 'Ghost,' right?”

You, in fact, have never seen the movie, but you knew exactly what he was referring to. You tried to push his hands away, your cheeks burning from the proximity.

“Don’t worry, I’m just helping you with your hand placement. I won’t kiss you or anything.” He pauses. “Unless you want me to.”

You toss a sideways glance over your shoulder, catching his wink. You attempt to relax and take a few deep breaths, letting Rafayel settle behind you and take your hands in his. He dips his hand in your water bucket and prepares the clay. Slowly moving your hands, he controls the pedal. He doesn’t apply too much pressure, just enough to let the clay glide through your fingers. His hands slide up to your wrists and your arms tremble slightly, you feel his breath on your neck as he chuckles. 

“Relax cutie, your wrists are too stiff. There, like that. Now apply some pressure here.”

His fingers press on the outside of your hand below your pinkie. At the same time, he lifts your hands higher, bringing the clay into a cylinder shape. You smile, instead of falling to the side the clay holds up. 

“Instead of digging in, use the curve of your thumb… No no, don’t use your arms, let your hands apply the pressure.”

His fingertips trace your thumb before moving to straighten your fingers and directing the clay back down. You can’t hear the rest of the class, or Ms. Brentwood going over the midterm project requirements. Just Rafayel, his steady breaths against your neck, and your heartbeat. 

With his guidance, you learn to make a pretty damn good mug. You draw up plans for your midterm project for a collection of mugs that fit together. You barely realize you’ve designed each mug to suit each of your friends.  🌸🌷☔️📚

Caleb has never given you the silent treatment before, luckily he only lasted a few weeks into the semester before barging into your room. Tara tip toes out and across the hall, you don’t miss how she leaves the boys room door cracked and peeks through. 

“I hate this. Are we just not friends anymore? Is that what this is?” He says, hands on his hips.

You close your laptop, this conversation is long overdue.

“Caleb, you’re my best friend. I… I hate that we haven’t talked.”

He sits at the end of your bed, keeping his distance.

“Then how do we fix this?”

“We talk, like we used to. Attack one problem at a time, no hiding.”

He nods, finally looking up. You can see it in his eyes, he’s afraid. Is he afraid to hurt your feelings or that you’ll hurt his? You’re not sure, but he takes the leap anyway. The conversation  that night stretches on. Tara eventually interrupts to bring you both food and to grab her laptop before retreating back across the hall. There’s no yelling, no pretending, no stone left unturned. By the time he leaves you’re unsure what will happen next with him, but there’s no doubt about how he feels.

“You’re right, there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I’ve always assumed they were one and the same. I never imagined a life where we weren’t together. But, I guess… I guess I have to figure out how I really feel. Just… ugh…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Caleb. I promise.” 

You close the distance and hold him for what feels like hours. He’s tense, but he doesn’t push you away. Regardless of what happens, he’s your closest friend, you love him. And honestly? You won’t let him walk away, not after everything you’ve been through together. 

Caleb still joins the group for movie nights and dinner, but he keeps his distance for a while. You respect his space, letting him come to you. Eventually, he starts smiling again, sharing the latest gossip, showing you pictures of his new model airplane. Your new normal is tested when he shares he has been tapped by a fraternity. The same one Mark “the asshole” Blakely belongs to.

“Sigma Chi? Mark is a member, isn’t he? Why’d you want to be a part of a frat of assholes?” 

You don’t hide your frustration, pushing away the coffee he brought to drive your point home. Someone behind you shushes you and you lift your hand to flip them off. You hear a scoff and roll your eyes. Just because you’re in a library doesn’t mean you have to be silent, fucks sake. Caleb grins, at least your ire is directed at someone else for the moment. 

“Correction. He was a member.”

You raise your brow. Caleb looks at Zayne, who’s sitting beside you. Turning to Zayne, you see a smirk. Great, Sylus is rubbing off on him, he’s smirking now. 

“After what happened at the tailgate, Zayne and I found Nathan Finley - the president of the frat - and informed him about Mark's behavior. Finley took care of it. Turns out he appreciated our efforts and personally tapped me, he wanted to tap Zayne, but…”

“I told him I wouldn’t have time to participate in any fraternity events due to my rigorous course schedule and volunteer activities.”

If Zayne isn’t in class, he’s studying. If he isn’t studying, he’s volunteering at Yale New Haven Hospital. And if he isn’t there, he’s sleeping. He does disappear for a few hours on Tuesday nights, you’ve caught him sneaking out a few times. He still won’t tell you where he’s going. 

“I’m still going to drag you to at least one party before you graduate.” You poke his arm.

“Uh huh, sure.” Sylus’s sarcasm is rubbing off on him too.

Caleb gets accepted into Sigma Chi fairly quickly and is already bragging about the parties. He keeps most of the brotherhood bonding a secret, but given how quickly he’s put on muscle you’re guessing it involves dumbbells. 

So far, you’re enjoying your second semester at Yale. Until the second week of February arrived and threw a curveball in the shape of a social media post announcing the details for a Yale tradition you somehow overlooked. 

🌸🌷☔️📚

“Oh my god! Oh my GOD!” Tara squeals. 

You drop your biology book on your face with a grunt and roll over to look at her. She scrambles off her bed and slips on her snow boots. You swing your legs off your bed and toss your textbook to the side. 

Something’s afoot. 

“What? What is it?” 

She grabs her coat and sprints from the room. You chase after her and watch as she runs down the hall towards the stairwell. 

“Tara? What the hell is going on?!”

“Freshman Screw! This Friday!”

Twirling around, she gives you a pointed look.

“You better find me a good date!” 

And then she’s gone, down the stairwell and out into the snow. By the time you get back to your room you’ve still not quite processed the information she provided. What the fuck is this “Freshman Screw”? Sitting back on your bed, you’re about to pick up your textbook when your phone dings. Tara tagged you in a comment on Instagram. 

The official Yale page was a snoozefest, but the student lead pages were always on top of campus events. You pull up the “Yale Girlies” page and check the post Tara commented on. The post reminds students about an official dance hosted by Student Affairs. Swiping, you read the details. That’s when it clicks and you silently scream.

“Freshman Screw is upon us! Yes, it’s officially known as the First-Year Formal, but we know what it’s all about. Ladies, it’s time to find the perfect date for your roomie. Will their night end in ecstasy? Or will you ‘screw’ them over and save a hottie for yourself? It’s up to you!”

Tara wouldn’t screw you over with an awkward blind date. She’s too nice for that. Plus, she’s been dying to set you up with someone. However, the alternative is just as terrifying. You don’t want your blind date to expect anything from you. Not that you’re opposed to the idea… Shit, you need to find a date for her too!

“This year's theme is ‘Classy Valentine’s’ - you better hope your roomie tells your date to bring you flowers. Remember to make those meet-cutes CUTE!” 

Meet-cutes? You scroll down to read the other comments and find a few people asking the same question. The replies explain the tradition of your roomie setting up a ‘unique’ way for you to meet your date. People share their stories, everything from scavenger hunts to having to wear a silly hat and have your date find you. Tara is not going to let you out of this one. 

Tara teases you the whole week, mentioning different guys she’s considering asking for you. Begging you for a hint about who you found for her. It was actually pretty easy to find someone for Tara, you knew her type and who had a crush on her. She might hate you, but she’s talked about Andrew non-stop since meeting him in her sociology class. He agreed in a heartbeat and offered to help you figure out the “meeting” part. 

“You never know, your date might be closer than you think.”  

You’re sitting on the floor in front of your standing mirror applying your makeup before class when she says this. So of course, you panic. She wouldn’t. Would she?

“He was actually really excited, it was adorable.” She puts a fresh mug of coffee on your desk before grabbing her backpack. “Two more days, babe!”

She slips out of the room before you can interrogate her. This week, you definitely hate her. 

Friday finally arrives, this has been the longest week of your life. It’s rare that the dance falls on Valentine’s Day itself, so it makes sense why they decided to lean into the corniness of the holiday. Your dress is perfect for the theme. Blush pink, a sweetheart neckline, ruffles and rose appliques on the skirt that hits right at mid-thigh. You almost didn’t bring it with you, but your mom reminded you of her 3 golden rules when it came to clothing while you were packing. Quality over quantity, know your colors, and pack for every occasion. 

Tara was still going through her dress options by the time you finished curling your hair. She was torn between a shiny pink mini dress and a sultry red midi dress with cutouts. 

“Try them on again if you’re still not sure.” You offer. 

“Per your instructions, I need to be at the bookstore by 6:30 and I am not going to be even a second late! It’s been killing me all week, I’ve given you more hints than you’ve given me!” 

You smirk and shimmy into your dress. Tara approaches and zips up the back before you even ask. Crouching to secure the straps of your heels, you look up to see her staring blankly into her closet. Finally feeling guilty, you stand and go to her bed to pick up the red dress.

“According to your date, they’ll be wearing a red tie. Go with the red.” Tara squeals and hugs you before shedding her robe to slip on her dress.

You watch from your window as Tara navigates the icy sidewalk in her heels on her way to the library. The only instructions she gave you involved you going to the urban meadows on Science Hill and sitting on a bench. 

“You’ll know which bench, trust me.” 

Trekking through the muddy terrain in strappy heels was not your idea of a good time. Especially since there were still piles of snow and patches of ice. If you fall and ruin your dress, you’re making your mystery date pay for the drycleaning. 

The meadow was barren at this time of year, but there were still string lights from the holidays. And it was peaceful. The sun had set, darkness dropping the temperature even further. But as you walked along the cobblestone path, it felt peaceful. There were only a handful of benches, while you weren’t sure what you were looking for it shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

Sure enough, there was a little red bag sitting on one of the benches. You cautiously sit down and poke the bag. When nothing bad happens, you take a peak inside. Bird food? You look around, there weren’t too many birds out at this time of night. With no note, you’d have to make an educated guess. Tossing a few handfuls out onto the pathway in front of you, you wait. A minute passes, and then another. A cardinal lands and pecks at the seeds, its bright red feathers seem to attract other birds and after another minute you have a little bird audience. You’ve never fed birds like this before, it’s strangely relaxing. 

A loud caw seemingly ruins the moment, followed by twigs breaking. You sit up, suddenly anxious. A loud crack draws your attention to the tree across from you. Looking up, you see something falling. 

THUNK

Birds scatter and fly in different directions as a metal object hits the ground. Hard. Standing, you approach the object and lean forward to inspect the damage. 

“Looks like he still needs some work…” 

You whirl around to see Sylus walking up the path.

“When I lost the signal I assumed a squirrel got him.”

He crouches and picks up the object. Once Sylus dusts it off, you realize it’s a bird. A rather large metal crow. You have a million questions, but all of them die on your tongue as you take in Sylus’s appearance. His signature dark torn jeans remain, but instead of a t-shirt or hoodie, he has a fitted black dress shirt. Tucked in and buttoned up. A red tie hangs loosely around his neck so the top button can remain undone. Instead of a suit jacket, he has his leather jacket. And instead of his go-to boots, he’s wearing dress shoes. You didn’t even know he owned shoes like that. He looks… good. Really good. 

Then it hits you.

“You’re my date?” You didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but your brain feels like mush at the mere thought of being on an actual date with this man.

“Disappointed, kitten?” He sounds… worried? 

“No! I mean, I just… I didn’t… Sorry, my brain is malfunctioning.” You joke.

He laughs, thankfully. He stands and tucks the metal bird under his arm.

“It’s alright, he malfunctioned too. Kinda ruined the surprise, but I tried, right?” 

You eye the bird and raise a brow. 

“Ahh, right. It’s a project I’ve been working on since before break. He’s going to be my final project for robotics next year. A couple upperclassmen told me to get started on my project early if I want to actually pass. Turns out the professor is a hardass.”

“Wait, you built this? Hold on… you said ‘him’? Does he have a name?”

Sylus smiles and steps forward, offering his free arm to you. 

“We should head to the Commons, the party has already started.”

You wrap your hand around his arm and allow him to guide you. He’s careful not to walk too fast, knowing you’re already wobbly in your heels. 

“I’m still deciding on a name.” He muses.

“What’s your favorite at the moment?”

“I’m feeling out ‘Draco,’ but keeping my options open.” 

Sylus makes a pitstop to drop off ‘Draco’ at his room. You’re surprised to find Zayne is gone, when you ask Sylus he shrugs.

“He’s been disappearing on Friday nights now. Not just on Tuesdays.”

“You noticed that too? Do you have any idea where he’s going?” 

He chuckles as he wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you step back outside into the cold. By the time you and Sylus arrive at the Commons, you’ve come up with a handful of theories. Did he join a secret society? Have a secret girlfriend? Started an affair with a teacher? Both of you agree the truth is probably far less dramatic. 

The Commons has been turned into a romantic hideaway. Hundreds of paper hearts hang from the ceiling amongst warm twinkle lights. A makeshift photobooth sits against the backwall, balloon arches and gorgeous flower arrangements offering various backdrops. There’s a few tables and chairs available, each with a luxurious red tablecloth and rose bouquets at the center. A table of treats is fully stocked - Zayne would have a field day. Brownies, cookies, cakes, a chocolate fountain. You make a mental note to sneak a plate out for him. 

The DJ must have been given the instructions to only play cheesy romance songs. You cringe, deciding you will not dance to a single song they played at your Senior Prom. Bad memories. 

“Scale of 1-10, how good are my chances at seeing you dance tonight?” 

You want to make a snarky comment, but lose your nerve with the way the low lighting makes his eyes even more enchanting. He helps you out of your coat and passes it, along with his own, to the coat check attendant. You shiver as you adjust to the temperature, your fingers still numb from your time outside. Sylus offers his hand and you stare. 

“If you’d rather just sit and talk, I’m yours for the night kitten. We can do whatever you like.”

There’s no smirk or wink, he simply offers his companionship and you aren’t opposed. You sigh and take his hand. He immediately covers your hand with his, thawing your fingers with his palms. As you walk through the crowd, you notice a few girls giving you dirty looks. You’re tempted to call out to them, reminding them that their roommates are to blame, not you. Speaking of roommates, you spot Tara dancing with Andrew. The way she’s batting her lashes and swaying her hips tells you all you need to know. She’s a happy girl.

“Tara seems to be enjoying herself.” Sylus whispers into your ear. 

“She’s been flirting with him since last semester. I had to ask him.”

When Tara spots you, she pulls Andrew close, pressing her body against his. She gives you a thumbs up over his shoulder and you cover your mouth to chuckle. She eyes Sylus. She points at him, then points at you, then points at him again. Their silent conversation must have been impactful because Sylus leans in. 

“Dance with me.” It’s not a question, but strangely, you’re not turned off by his command. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you let him lead you towards the dance floor. His hand settles on the small of your back, holding your other hand to his chest. The songs have slowed down, couples swaying, some getting a little handsy. You keep your eyes on Sylus, trying to keep your nerves in check. 

“You still haven’t chosen a major?” His question surprises you, but you nod anyway. “What’s holding you back?”

“I… I guess I just don’t know what I want to do with my life. I don’t want to end up studying something I don’t really like and end up working a job I despise until retirement.”

Without realizing it, you’re much closer to him. Instead of backing away, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace. With your body flush against his, you try to continue the conversation. 

“My dad’s worked in finance his whole life and I can tell he’s miserable. He reminisces about his time in high school and college a lot. How he played football, wanted to coach, but then my mom got pregnant with my brothers.”

“You have brothers?” 

“Oh, yeah, I guess I don’t really talk about them. They’re twins, six years older than me. We weren’t close, they always had each other. But I had Caleb, so…” 

Mentioning Caleb brings on a wave of sadness. Is he attending tonight? Would he be okay seeing you with Sylus? Who is he with? Are they nice? Okay, you’re doomspiraling again… Now you’re flustered, accidentally stepping on Sylus’s foot.

“Shit… sorry.”

“It’s okay. Your brothers, after they were born your dad had to, let me guess, ‘get serious’ and find a career to support a family, right?” 

“Yup… By the time I was born he was in a management position. I don’t know, he’s never been happy. I don’t want that for me.”

“You do realize if you study something you later hate, you can go back to college. Study something else, change careers. Just because your dad didn’t doesn’t mean you can’t.”

The music changed to something more upbeat, but neither of you noticed. He continued to sway and your focus remains on him. 

“I know… I guess I worry that if I get married, have kids, I’ll be in a similar position. No time for silly dreams.”

“There’s always time for silly dreams. No matter how old you get. Or how many responsibilities you have. Don’t settle, but don’t try to predict the future. Allow your interests to change and if that means you have to return to these hallowed halls when you’re 30, so be it.”

He makes it sound so easy, so simple. 

“It’s more complicated than that though.”

“Sure. Life happens. Some of it bad, some of it good. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re capable. And smart. If you want something, I have no doubt you’ll get it.”

His confidence in you is inspiring. You wish you believed in yourself that much. Sylus’s thumb traces your cheek and you wince. He wipes away a tear, you didn’t even realize you were getting so emotional. Sylus leads you away from the dance floor and back to the entrance. He retrieves your coats and helps you into yours. 

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

You don’t argue. You know Tara will be livid that you didn’t get any cheesy photobooth pictures with Sylus, but you have a feeling you’ve ruined your makeup. Sylus brings you back to your dorm, holding your hand as you climb the stairs in wet heels. 

“Do you think Tara will notice if a couple packets of hot chocolate go missing from her stash?”

“Yes.” He hangs his head and sighs dramatically. “But I’ll replace them.”

He follows you into your room and watches as you slip off your heels, shoving your frozen toes into plush slippers. Without changing completely, you hang your winter coat on your desk chair and grab a hoodie. Sylus turns on Tara’s machine and heats up some water while you clean out two mugs. Once you have your hot chocolate, you sit on the edge of your bed with him. A comfortable silence settles and you feel more at peace than you have in weeks. The stress of ‘what to do with your future’ has been eating you alive. 

“Thank you.” You mumble into your mug, just above a whisper.

“Are you thanking your hot chocolate?” 

You hit his arm playfully and he laughs again. That hearty, rich laugh you’ve grown fond of.

“I’m thanking you. I’ve been overthinking this major stuff and I guess I needed someone to put things into perspective. So… thank you.”

He looks at you with a gentle smile. His leg rests against yours, his elbow bumping yours as you take another sip. 

“I meant it, you know. I have no doubt you’ll be just fine. You just have to stop doubting yourself.” He nudges you with his elbow. “You’re pretty impressive when you want to be.”

Before you get the chance to respond, you see movement outside of your door. Leaning forward, you look into the hall and see Zayne trying to unlock his door. You point and Sylus follows your gaze. But instead of being sneaky, Sylus stands and strolls over to the door.

“And where have you been, young man?” His voice acting could use some work.

Zayne jumps, he hunches forward and doesn’t look back.

“Sy-Sylus? That’s not funny.”

Sylus chuckles, but as he gets closer to Zayne his smile falls. 

“Zayne? What do you have there?”

You damn near sprint over to the door to stand on your toes to get a peek. Zayne is still hunched forward, using his body to shield something. Sylus puts a hand on his shoulder and he tries to shrug him off.

“Zayne.” Sylus’s voice turns serious.

“Just promise you won’t say anything.”

Sylus and you exchange a worried glance. Sylus nods and Zayne turns around to reveal a small cardboard box. You step up and reach for the lid, as soon as you open it Zayne is shushing you.

“Oh my god Zayne! Where did you–”

“Can we save this conversation until we are inside the room?” He cuts you off and nods to Sylus, who has the most adorable shocked expression. “Sylus, please…”

Sylus quickly opens the door to their room. All three of you file inside and as soon as the door is closed you’re quietly squealing and pulling the lid fully off the box.

“Oh my goodness, look at these babies!!” 

Inside the box are three kittens, two black and an orange tabby, all three with stunning bright blue eyes. You’re giggling like a fool while the trio stare up at you, but as soon as you notice them shivering you turn to Zayne in a rage. 

“Zayne, they’re freezing!”

Zayne passes you the box and starts gathering blankets and some of his t-shirts to form a little bed in his closet. One of the kittens lets out a tiny meow and you’re tearing up instantly. Reaching out, you let the kittens sniff your fingers. The orange kitten licks your hand while one of the black kittens backs up against the corner silently hissing. 

When Zayne returns he reaches into the box and picks up the black kittens, ignoring their pitiful attempts at swatting his palm. He moves them to the little bed he created. You carefully pick up the orange kitten and let them climb up your hoodie to get closer to your face.

“Zayne. What. The. Fuck.” Sylus whispers.

“They were rescued today, the only foster available can’t get them until the morning. There’s no one staying at the shelter overnight tonight and they need to be monitored. I would have called, but I knew you were going to the event.”

You sit down next to the closet and try to pet the other kittens. They’ve calmed down a bit, now that they’re no longer being jostled around. Zayne moves his space heater closer before grabbing a plastic baggie of a white powder from his pocket.

“Oh kittens and drugs, great!” Sylus sighs, flopping down onto his bed.

“It’s not drugs, it’s kitten formula.” 

Zayne mixes a bit of formula with water. All three kittens start meowing when he kneels down to offer the mixture. Placing the orange kitten with its siblings, you watch as they clumsily eat their meal. You turn to Zayne and cross your arms.

“Okay, spill. What the hell is going on?”

Sylus moves closer, sitting on Zayne’s bed to listen in. 

“I’ve been… volunteering at the animal shelter since the semester began. Every Tuesday and –”

“That’s where you’ve been going?! Not an affair with a teacher, you owe me 5 bucks.” Sylus claps and you shush him.

“...Every Tuesday and Friday night. They do a lot of legal work to rescue animals from abusive homes. These kittens were rescued from a breeder who… I’d rather not say what they did. These are Ojos Azules, they’re a rare breed, very valuable. If I left them at the shelter they might have become more hostile by the time the foster showed up.”

“Well this little guy isn’t hostile at all.” You rub the top of the orange kitten’s head. 

“True, but his sisters are very anxious.” He picks at a bandage on his hand. “I couldn’t leave them.” 

You look at Sylus, who is rubbing his temples with a somber expression. 

“Zayne, if our RA comes by…”

“I know… I know. It’s just for tonight. I swear.” 

“Sylus?”

He looks up and immediately regrets it. You hold up the orange kitten, a milk droplet stuck to his chin, his plump belly swaying. You hide your face behind the cat.

“Sylus, please don’t make me go back out into the cold. I like it here with the nice man with glasses. It’s warm and cozy.”

Zayne smiles, the first uninhibited smile you’ve seen from him since you met him. Sylus rolls his eyes and groans, he stands and starts cleaning up some of his things off the floor.

“Fine, but if they piss on anything, you two are cleaning it up.”

You quickly run back to your room to change into old sweats and a t-shirt, leaving your dress on the floor. Zayne has made up a makeshift litter box in the hopes they’ll ‘figure it out.’ Sylus checks the hall every 30 minutes like clockwork to make sure the RAs don’t make their rounds too early. You remind him they’ll most likely skip rounds given the event and how many ‘unauthorized sleepovers’ there might be. Still, he checks and shushes you every time you giggle too loudly over their feline guests. 

“Orange kitten, what would you name him?” Zayne gives you that look. “Oh come on, humor me.” He sighs.

“I’m not sure. Maybe Hippo, for Hippocrates? Or… Galen?” You stare at him. “He was a Greek physician and philosopher.”

“Okay, Sylus!” He looks up from where he’s hunched over his mechanical bird. “One of the girls, what would you name her?”

He leans back, not even bothering to argue with you. You know damn well it’s a bad idea to name them, you can’t get attached. 

“Lilith.” 

“Really? A demon?”

“The one who hissed at you. That one. She’s a little demon.” He turns back to his work, but glances over, smiling as the very kitten he’s referring to falls asleep in your arms. 

“I suppose you’ll be naming the last one?” Zayne asks.

“Dream.” You reply.

Sylus stops tinkering for a moment, smiling to himself. He finally joins you and Zayne on the floor to socialize with the kittens. 

It’s not long before you’re fast asleep with all three curled up on your chest. Zayne drapes a blanket over your legs and angles the closet door to keep you hidden. He takes a break to take a shower while Sylus keeps watch. He stands over you, admiring the way you scrunch your nose and huff in your sleep. A knock at the door makes you twitch, but you remain asleep. Sylus cracks the door open.

“Is my roommate here?” Tara stares at him, her expression a mix of hope and worry. Sylus is relieved it’s just Tara, he lets the door open a bit wider. Tara’s eyes widen, she crosses her arms and smirks. Sylus had shed his formal attire when you changed into sweats. He was changing into a hoodie when Tara knocked. She stares at his bare chest and waits for him to explain. As it dawns on him what this must look like, he shakes his head.

“No no no… now hold on. I was just changing. We weren’t–”

Tara holds up her hands. 

“You don’t kiss and tell, I get it. I was just making sure she’s okay before I head over to Andrew’s. Tell her I’ll be back in the morning?” Sylus nods. “And use protection!” 

Sylus grunts as Tara skips down the hallway towards a waiting Andrew. Sylus quickly closes the door and pulls his hoodie on. He sits beside you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. The orange kitten stretches and almost rolls off your chest, Sylus quickly grabs him. Instead of putting him back, he lifts him up, holding him at eye level. He lets out a tiny meow before yawning, his tongue sticking out and his eyes squeezing shut. Sylus closes his eyes briefly, steeling his nerves. When he opens them to see the baby falling asleep in his hand.

“For fucks sake…” 🌸🌷☔️📚

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: (If you'd like to be added to the Ivy League taglist comment a🎓) @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @godoffuckedupcats @klmpun @ariallaisawesome @spidy-spider01 @ankitavminkook @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmutm0 @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @bubbleteakittyy @stellar-seas @babylilxc @havenhope-art @lly5duck @freddy-2002-blog @sylus-hunter @plzdonutpercieveme @saybeyonce @red-f1sh-blue-f1sh

AN: A few things: (1) Yes, 'Freshman Screw' is a real thing at Yale. (2) Zayne & cats are the perfect combo, you cannot change my mind. (3) Sylus with an orange cat is everything to me. (4) Finally wrote that pottery wheel scene with Rafayel - bless. (5) Mephisto being incomplete and falling from a tree makes me laugh every time.

AN #2: I am in a writing frenzy, I wake up excited to write it. So, it'll probably be updated fairly quickly. It's just SO CUTE OKAY!

[saybeyonce]

𐙚 busy woman pt. 3 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⌗ pairings: eren x reader, slight! erwin x reader

⌗ summary: you don’t believe in fate, but you do believe in probability. the odds of running into a stupidly attractive guy at a highly competitive internship interview? low. the odds of him rejecting you? …higher. the odds of ending up in the same program — and on the same project team after all that? practically zero. and yet, here you are.

⌗ word count: 3.4k

♥ pt. 3 ♥ masterlist ♥

You’re starting to think the universe has a personal vendetta against you.

Because despite your very best efforts to keep things professional—to pretend that Eren Yeager is just another intern, just another face in the sea of overachieving college students trying to make it in corporate America, he keeps finding ways to worm himself into your life.

Case in point:

“Alright, teams,” your manager announces at the end of the weekly check-in. “For this next sprint, we’re pairing up for a deep-dive project. Deliverables are due in two weeks, so make sure you’re coordinating closely.”

You’re barely listening, already skimming through your notes, mentally calculating how much work you’ll need to do over the weekend to stay ahead.

And then—

“Pairings are up in the Slack channel,” the manager continues. “Alright, that’s all for today!”

Laptops snap shut. Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone starts packing up. You casually open Slack, expecting to see a random name beside yours.

No. Of course not. Because that would be too easy.

Instead, right there, bolded in neat little text— of course, has your name listed next to the "& Eren Yeager."

You stare at the screen.

You scroll back. Refresh. Check the file name. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe this is a sick joke. Maybe you opened the wrong document.

But there it is. Again. Your name, tied to his like a cruel punchline.

You flick your gaze across the room.

He’s already looking at you.

Chin propped in his hand, like he’d been watching. Like he knew this was coming. Like he’s been waiting for the moment you realized.

His lips twitch into the smallest, most insufferable smile.

You want to throw your laptop across the room. You want to throw him across the room.

Sasha peers over your shoulder and whistles. “Oh. Good luck with that.”

You groan, shoving your laptop into your bag like it personally betrayed you. “I’m really going to need it.”

She pats your back sympathetically before bouncing off to meet her own partner. Meanwhile, you’re bracing yourself as Eren stands, stretching lazily before slinging his bag over one shoulder.

“Well,” he drawls, stopping in front of your desk. “Guess you’re stuck with me. Again”

You exhale sharply through your nose, pushing your chair back. “Guess so.”

“Try not to look too excited.”

You scowl, standing up. “I’ll try my best.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “When are you free to meet?”

You pull out your phone and skim your schedule. “I have some time tomorrow afternoon. I can book a meeting room at three?”

Eren hums, tilting his head slightly, like he’s thinking. Then—

“Nah. Let’s go somewhere else.”

You blink. “Where else would we have a meeting... if not in a meeting room?”

“The café down the street,” he says. “Better ambiance. Fewer people than in the office.”

You hesitate. You could argue, keep things strictly professional. But the idea of a sweet treat and something warm to drink while working through soul-draining corporate tasks sounds… kind of nice.

“…Fine.” You sigh, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Three o’clock.”

Eren grins. “Looking forward to it.”

You walk off before he can say anything else, but as you leave, you can still feel him watching you.

And for the first time in weeks, you can’t tell if you’re dreading tomorrow— or looking forward to it.

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

It’s just a meeting. A work-related, professional, totally normal meeting.

And yet, as you approach the café, you feel the beginnings of unease settle in your stomach. Maybe it’s because this is the first time you’ll be alone with Eren outside of the office. Maybe it’s because, despite your best efforts, you haven’t been able to shake the lingering awareness of him— of his glances, his smirks, the way he always seems too entertained by your reactions.

Or maybe it’s because some small, irrational part of you is still clinging to the memory of the rejection. The way he’d shut you down without hesitation.

You shake the thought away as you step inside.

The café is warm, the scent of coffee and pastries hanging in the air. You scan the room quickly, spotting Eren near the back, already seated at a small table. He’s dressed more casually today— sleeves rolled up, hair pulled into a loose bun, silver rings glinting on his annoyingly attractive hands as he idly taps his fingers against the table.

You steel yourself and walk over.

“You always pick the back corner?” you ask, setting your bag down before sliding into the seat across from him.

Eren looks up, smirking slightly. “Best view in the room.”

You glance around, skeptical. “Of what? The exit sign?”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Didn’t say I was looking at the décor.”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by his tone— but you don’t press it. Instead, you pull out your laptop, trying to stay focused.

He nods at the gesture, but doesn’t move for his bag. Instead, he leans back, head tilting slightly as he nods toward the counter. “You thinking of getting anything?”

You hesitate, eyeing the pastry case. “Maybe. Still deciding.”

“What do you usually go for?” he presses— but there’s a quiet curiosity beneath it.

You glance at him, a little wary. “Strawberry matcha, usually. And... that Nutella croissant looks good.”

His smirk grows, subtle but unmistakably smug. “Knew it.”

Your brows lift. “You knew?”

He’s already pushing back his chair. “Took a guess when I saw the menu. I’ll get you both. I wanted the Nutella croissant too.”

You blink. “Wait— are you sure?”

Eren nods, already walking toward the counter. “Yeah. I’ll grab my coffee while I’m at it. Easier if I just pay for everything.”

And even though you should be reviewing project notes or pulling up the presentation while he’s at the counter, your brain is annoyingly hyper-aware of him— of the way the barista seems a little too interested in him, of the easy way he leans against the counter as he waits.

You force yourself to look away. Focus.

By the time he returns, sliding your coffee across the table, you’ve managed to pull up a shared document.

“Alright,” you say briskly, “let’s start by breaking down the deliverables.”

Eren hums, taking a sip of his own drink. “So serious.”

You shoot him a look. “That’s kind of the point of this, isn’t it?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Relax. We’ve got time.”

You resist the urge to groan. “Eren.”

“Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s get to work.”

And to your surprise, he actually does.

The next few hours pass by smoothly. Eren, despite his usual laid-back demeanor, is sharp, quick to pick up on details, throwing out ideas that you begrudgingly admit are good. The conversation flows easier than expected, and for the first time, you feel yourself settling into something… comfortable.

Then—

“You always this tense?”

You glance up from your screen, brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”

Eren leans forward slightly, studying you with an unreadable expression. “You’re always on edge around me.”

Your grip tightens around your cup. “I am not.”

He tilts his head. “You sure?”

You sigh, looking away. “We’re working. That’s all this is.”

Eren hums, but he doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

The air shifts, something unspoken hanging between you. You don’t like it, you definitely don’t want to acknowledge it, so you do what you do best.

You ignore it.

The next few days pass in a blur.

Despite everything, the two of you fall into a rhythm. The tasks have already been divided. You both know what needs to be done, and Eren’s competent (frustratingly so), and it makes it easier to ignore the tension that simmers beneath the surface.

Mostly.

You’d love to pretend you’re fine, casual even, but it’s hard to ignore the way your skin prickles every time you feel his gaze settle on you.

No matter how hard you try to bury yourself in work, drown in project tasks, or choke down scheduled meetings— nothing is enough to keep you from running into Eren again.

Like today.

You’re crammed into a small meeting room with the rest of your team, laptops open, diagrams pulled up on the screen, conversation moving quickly from one update to the next. You’re halfway through explaining a revision to the prototype data structure when the door creaks open.

And there he is.

He steps in like he owns the place, long frame filling the doorway, hair loose around his shoulders, sleeves pushed up, lanyard half tucked into the pocket of his jeans.

You freeze. Of course, he would come in now.

He doesn’t even speak— just lifts a brow slightly, like you were the one interrupting him.

He looks around the room, slow and unhurried, before setting his laptop down on the table and taking a seat next to you, much to your dismay.

And then— he smiles.

Not big. Not wide. Just enough to say, Yeah, I know you saw me.

You grit your teeth and pretend to refocus on the screen, willing yourself not to notice the way his presence seems to take up more space than it should. You can feel the heat of him beside you, his scent, woodsy and clean, is way too close for comfort.

And you hate it. You’re supposed to be focused on the project, on your career, on your goals. Not him.

You arrive at the office the next morning with a game plan: ignore, deflect, and work. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions. No Eren Yeager.

But as luck would have it, within the first hour, that plan goes to hell.

It starts small— his gaze lingering on you when your team gathers for the daily check-in, the way he seems way too at ease in your proximity. Then comes the subtle, almost imperceptible smirk when you fumble with your professionalism as if he was waiting for you to finally slip up— to react to him.

You don’t. You won’t. Except you do— when you’re forced to spend the entire afternoon stuck in a tiny meeting room with him, reviewing an important deliverable of the project together.

You sit at opposite ends of the table, both typing away on your laptops, silence stretching between you. It should be comfortable—just two interns in the same stage of life, work towards the same goals, spending precious time of their youth working together as comrades— but it isn’t. There’s an unspoken awareness, or in your case, awkwardness, that makes the air feel heavier than it should.

Eventually, you exhale sharply, breaking the silence. “Look, can you just—” You pause, searching for the right words.

Eren finally looks up, one brow slightly raised. “Just what?”

“Stop making this weird.”

His lips twitch, like he’s amused that you think you have control over that. “I’m not making it weird.”

You give him a flat look. “You literally brought up asking me you out. In front of everyone. In front of our boss.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “You brought it up first.”

Your jaw drops. “I— no, I didn’t!”

“You called it ‘unfortunate probability.’”

“That’s not bringing it up, that’s just—” You inhale sharply, cutting yourself off. You refuse to engage in this ridiculous back-and-forth with him. You are a professional. A serious intern, someone’s here to get a return offer.

Eren, however, is entirely unbothered, watching you with that same lazy amusement. “Relax,” he says. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter under your breath, turning back to your screen.

Silence settles again, but this time, it’s charged. You try to focus, but you can feel his gaze flicker to you every now and then, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll talk back, to give a reaction first.

Again, you repeat the same mantra. You don’t. You won’t.

But this time, he speaks first.

“So, why’d you do it?”

You blink. “Do what?”

He tilts his head slightly, long strands of hair beautifully framing his face. “Ask me out.”

Your heart stops. How can someone annoying be so natrually handsome? Then starts again— way too fast for your liking.

You should learn from your mistakes last week’s team lunch and this time actually tell a lie. Say it was a dare. Say anything that will downplay the sheer mortification of that moment. But again, you blurt out the truth before you can stop yourself.

“I don’t know. You just seemed interesting.”

More like infuriatingly hot, but also not a lie. There was something about him that day, something about his quiet confidence, his complete indifference to the high-stakes nature of the last step of being hired— the behavioral interview, like he already knew he had it in the bag. It annoyed you. It intrigued you.

Eren studies you for a beat, like he’s weighing your words. Then, to your utter disbelief, he grins.

“What?” you demand, suspicious.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, still smirking. “Just funny, that’s all.”

You narrow your eyes. “Funny how?”

But before he can answer, the door swings open and one of your team members pokes their head in, asking about a deadline.

The moment breaks.

Eren turns back to his laptop, looking perfectly at ease, while you sit there, heart hammering, feeling like you just lost some sort of invisible battle.

You don’t know what game he’s playing. But you have a feeling that Eren is messing with you. There’s no other explanation.

Ever since that meeting room conversation— ever since you stupidly admitted he seemed interesting— he’s been acting different. Not outright obnoxious, but just devious enough to genuinely annoy you.

Like now.

Your team is gathered in a shared workspace, casually going over project updates. You’re hyper-focused on your laptop, taking notes as your team lead speaks, to avoid feeling it— his gaze.

You don’t have to look to know it’s him. You just know.

And it’s distracting.

“So,” Eren’s voice cuts through the discussion, completely unprompted. “You’re a statistics person, right?”

You freeze.

Slowly, you look up. He’s leaning back in his chair, looking far too entertained.

“…Yeah?” you say warily.

Eren nods, like he’s deep in thought. “So, statistically speaking, what do you think the odds are of us running into each other again after this internship?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Jean snorts from across the table. “Damn, Yeager. You applying probability theory to your love life now?”

Sasha perks up immediately. “Wait, why? Are you planning on running into her again?”

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.

You’re going to kill him.

Eren, unfazed, shrugs. “Just curious.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to decipher his angle. Is he teasing you? Is this payback? Or is he just naturally inclined to be the most insufferable person you’ve ever met?

Probably all three.

“I wouldn’t know,” you say, forcing your voice to stay even. “Maybe I’ll run a regression model on it later.”

Sasha gasps, delighted. “Ooh, academic flirtation. I love it.”

You shoot her a please stop look, but she’s having too much fun at your expense.

Meanwhile, Eren just hums, tilting his head slightly. “Let me know what you find.”

And then, as if he didn’t just drop that bomb, he goes right back to working, leaving you reeling.

After that bullshit of a conversation, you’re two seconds away from flipping the table and walking out. But since professionalism is still a thing, you settle for excusing yourself to grab coffee instead. The office break room is thankfully empty when you step inside. You exhale sharply, pressing your palms against the counter. What is his problem?

The way Eren keeps pushing at you, throwing you off balance— it’s getting unbearable.

Worse, you can’t even tell if he’s doing it on purpose or if this is just who he is. Maybe life is fair after all, being as endowed in the looks and brains department can’t come without sacrifices— his unbearable personality.

Maybe your girlfriends were onto something when they said that men were more handsome before they opened their mouths.

You’re starting to understand the appeal of a silent, brooding type. At least they don’t make you want to throw things every time they speak.

Is this some sort of game for him? To see how much you can take before you snap?

You shake your head, reaching for a coffee pod and shoving it into the machine with more force than necessary.

“Damn. What did the Keurig do to you?”

Your whole body tenses.

Of course. Of course.

You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

He reaches for a cup, and for a second, you swear he’s deliberately moving slow, drawing out the moment to stand behind you, towering over your frame.

You can feel his presence, radiating off him like heat, and it makes your skin prickle in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

Fuck, what if he sees a gray hair? You probably have one from all the stress he’s giving you. Maybe more than one. It wouldn’t be surprising— this feels like the kind of situation that would age you by ten years in a single afternoon.

You force yourself to focus, stirring your drink slowly, keeping your gaze fixed on the cup. You don’t want to look up, don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your reaction. But his voice is there, always there, like it’s in your head, too.

“Don’t you have something better to do?” you ask, your tone a little sharper than you intended, but you refuse to back down.

Eren tilts his head, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “You trying to get rid of me that quickly?”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. This is exactly why you’ve been avoiding him. The way he’s so easy, so confident, like he knows he can mess with you and you won’t say a word.

You take a long sip, as if the simple action could cool the rising heat in your chest.

“Well,” you say, voice flat as you put the cup back down with a little too much force. “I’m not in the mood for your… whatever this is.”

For a moment, his expression falters, like you’ve caught him off guard. His eyes flicker, just briefly, and you can tell something shifts in him, like your irritation has actually affected him more than he’d like to admit.

He straightens up, running a hand through his hair, looking at you with something more genuine in his gaze. “Oh—” He pauses, taking a breath, and you can see him trying to recalibrate. “I wasn’t trying to make you mad, just wanted to get your attention. I don’t... want you pissed off at me.”

You exhale slowly, trying to keep yourself composed, but the words are out before you can stop them: “You’ve been doing this for weeks, Eren. It’s not funny anymore. It’s... it’s not a joke when you keep teasing me in front of everyone, in front of our boss. It’s embarrassing.”

His eyes widen, the sincerity in them growing, but you’re not interested in that right now.

“I’m not just here to entertain you,” you continue, your voice shaky now, and you curse yourself internally for letting it slip. “Being here is really important to me, and I’m just trying to get things done. But you keep making me feel like an idiot in front of people. It’s not just you anymore. It’s your whole attitude and... I can’t even—” You cut yourself off, frustrated tears threatening to spill. God, not now.

His face softens, but you’re already stepping back, gripping your drink tighter like it could hold you together. You feel small.

And worse, you’re starting to feel like you’ve just become another punchline in his little game.

Eren steps back, eyes searching yours, but you don’t meet his gaze. You’re not sure what he expects from you now. You don’t even know what you expect now. An apology? A hug?

Instead, all you feel is the knot in your throat tightening. You don’t want to cry here, not in front of him. So, you just force out a small breath and pretend like everything is fine again.

[saybeyonce]

𐙚 busy woman pt. 1 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⌗ pairings: eren x reader, slight! erwin x reader

⌗ summary: you don’t believe in fate, but you do believe in probability. the odds of running into a stupidly attractive guy at a highly competitive internship interview? low. the odds of him rejecting you? …higher. the odds of ending up in the same program — and on the same project team after all that? practically zero. and yet, here you are.

⌗ word count: 1.2k

♥ pt. 2 ♥ masterlist ♥

The first time you see him, he’s sitting across from you in Amazon’s sleek, modern lobby, scrolling through his phone with an air of boredom. His long hair falls effortlessly over his shoulders, framing sharp green eyes, and the all-black outfit he’s wearing only adds to the effortlessly cool aura he exudes. It’s infuriating.

The other candidates in the lobby are visibly tense— eyes darting across their laptop screens, reviewing LeetCode problems like their lives depend on it. Meanwhile, he looks like he just rolled out of bed and showed up for fun. He’s probably the type to start coding projects the night they’re due and still get a perfect score. The type who never second-guesses himself in a technical interview. The type who coasts through life on sheer talent.

It’s hard not to be at least a little resentful, especially in this job market. You sent out over 200 applications, grinded through a grueling technical screening, and sacrificed weeks of sleep just for this shot. And here he is, looking like he has nothing to worry about.

You fidget with your fingers, trying to shake off your pre-interview nerves. Maybe he’s a nepo baby. Maybe his dad is a senior dev here, and this interview is just a formality. That scenario isn’t unheard of. There’s no way a normal college student would be that calm right now.

You sigh, letting your mind wander to all the K-dramas you’ve watched about office romances. Out of the sea of awkward, smelly, socially inept CS major guys, he’s like a rare exception— the kind of guy who actually looks good while coding. Gosh, imagine if someone like him was your coworker. Debugging wouldn’t be so miserable if you were pulling all-nighters next to a guy like that. If only.

You’re still lost in your little fantasy when a voice snaps you back to reality.

“The next interview group, please come forward.”

Your name is called first.

And then—

“Eren Yeager.”

Oh.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye as he stands, stretching lazily before trailing after the recruiter. As he walks past, you catch the faintest whiff of something clean and expensive, so unfairly good.

Life really isn’t fair. Not only is he ridiculously good-looking, but he’s also tall. And he smells good.

You force yourself to refocus, but as you follow the recruiter inside, the awareness of him lingers, making your heart rate spike even more. You shouldn’t care— he’s just another candidate, really, just another competitor. You should be silently praying for his downfall. But something about the way he carries himself, so effortlessly confident, only makes you hyper-aware of your own unease.

By the time you’re seated, you push all unnecessary thoughts aside.

The interview goes well— better than well, actually. You answer the behavioral questions smoothly (after rehearsing them so many times you could probably recite the prompts in your sleep), showcase your problem-solving and people skills (shoutout to all those painfully competitive career workshops from uni), and even throw in a few well-placed jokes that make your interviewers smile (carefully crafted after an embarrassingly deep dive into their LinkedIn profiles).

By the time you walk out, you feel good— so good that, on a wild impulse that not even your obsessive need to be prepared could have accounted for, you find yourself stopping in front of Eren by the elevators. He’s leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone like he has nowhere to be.

“Hey,” you say.

He looks up, surprised. His sharp green eyes flick over you, taking you in for a moment before he responds. “Hey.”

You hesitate for half a second. Then, before you can overthink it, you say, “We were in the same interview group, and I think you’re really cute. Would you wanna go out sometime?”

Eren blinks. He wasn’t expecting that. Hell, even you weren’t expecting that. But when someone has a face card like his, sometimes you just have to shoot your shot.

Then— silence. A long, excruciating pause. The kind that stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you sounded creepy. Oh god. Maybe you came off weird. Or desperate. Or worse— maybe he thinks you’re completely out of his league, and not in the fun, delusional way.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he exhales, his gaze flicking over you once more before taking out an airpod to bluntly say, “I don’t really date.”

Oh.

You try your best not to let the rejection sting for too long. After all, Eren’s gorgeous and probably gets asked out by girls all the time—enough to build immunity to it. What could you say? Beautiful people should date other beautiful people, and even with your fair share of self-confidence, you felt deep down that he was out of your league.

But your obsession with being prepared had its perks. It helped you be adaptable in situations like this. “No worries,” you say smoothly, flashing him a casual grin (one you practiced in front of the bathroom mirror, imagining hypothetical situations like this) like it’s no big deal— despite the fact that your heart feels like it’s been stomped on. “Good luck with the internship.”

And with that, you turn and leave down the stairs, pretending like it never happened.

A month later, you get the acceptance email.

You’re beyond thrilled— thrilled when you (finally) announce your highly coveted internship at frickin’ Amazon, thrilled when you go out to the club with your girlfriends to celebrate the end of internship application season, and thrilled when you hear about the sweet, sweet pay (which you’re already planning to save up for a winter break trip to go snowboarding) during the Zoom onboarding meeting.

You’re so thrilled, in fact, that you can’t imagine anything ruining your high. That is, until you walk into orientation and see a very familiar face sitting at one of the tables.

Eren Yeager.

His gaze flicks up as you enter, recognition flashing in his eyes. For a split second, neither of you says anything. You freeze, feeling your face flushing with heat. He holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity before you break it, quickly looking down at the floor, mortified beyond belief. The probability of this happening was practically zero.

And yet, here he is.

You tug at the hem of your newly bought shirt from Mango (a mini present to yourself to celebrate landing the internship of your dreams, the pinnacle of what your college experience had amounted to on your resume), trying to distract yourself, but nothing can shake the immense embarrassment you feel.

To make matters worse, the project manager steps to the front of the room and announces, “Alright, summer interns! You’ll be working in assigned dev groups for the summer. Let’s introduce you to your teams.”

You can already feel the impending doom, as if the universe and all its forces are conspiring against you. What were the chances? Your opps must’ve gotten together in a group chat and ordered the most expensive bootleg spell from Etsy to make sure this moment— your moment, the one you’ve worked your butt off for— was as awkward as humanly possible.

You knew life was getting too good to be true.

[saybeyonce]

Kindred Spirits ₊˚⊹⋆

Prologue.

summary: Love and deepspace, a game that you played in your past life. As for your current life? You're living in none other than Linkon city, a city from the aforementioned game.

warnings: Brief mentions of death.

word count: 1.2k

author's note: Officially making this a full fledged fanfic! I'm still super nervous about sharing my writing, but hopefully i'll get less anxious as time goes on. Not beta read sorry for any spelling mistakes. <3

You're eleven when the chronorift catastrophe happens. On that same day you get the memories of your old life back. It's an emotional roller coaster. The grief of your own death. The excitement and thrill of being in the game you had loved so much. The dread of realizing you'll have to experience being a teenager all over again.

It takes a while for you to calm down, but when you do, you decide on an important decision. You are going to live a normal life. You do *not* want to get in the way of what fate has planned for the characters of this world. Of course you would have loved to meet them, but you love being alive more.

Your normal life falls apart less than a week later.

She looks just like how you created her, only younger. Caleb and Josephine are standing right beside her. You stare in silence, too stunned to speak. You don't know what to do, your mind and heart are racing. You think about excusing yourself, but before you can speak your mother tells you to go play with the new neighbours. She's already ushering you out the door, not even giving you the chance to object.

The way she looks at you leaves you feeling uneasy. It's as if she knows your thoughts. You half expect her to tell you that you don't belong. Instead she greets you with a wide grin as she tells you her name.

Caleb introduces himself next. You know how much he's suffered, yet you wouldn't be able to tell based on the warmth his smile radiates.

You introduce yourself next, silently hoping you don't look as nervous as you feel. But the second you say your name, she grabs your hand and drags you to go play with Caleb following close behind.

After that day you try to avoid them both as best you can, still determined to keep your distance as to not affect the story this world has planned for her. But no matter how hard you try she always seems to find her way back to you.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear her call your name from across the street. You watch as her hand slips out of Caleb's to reach for yours instead, asking if you want to walk to school together. You instinctively glance at Caleb who's wearing the same warm smile from your first meeting. However, you're not oblivious to the subtle annoyance in his eyes.

You're about to politely decline her offer, looking back at her with her wide hopeful eyes and bright smile… You end up walking to school together.

Lunch rolls around and she's quick to sit next to you even though you're sitting with your friends. You're all older than her by a few years, yet she doesn't seem out of place. Her confidence is admirable, endearing even. But you're still worried about how she seems to be growing so fond of you so quickly. At least this time Caleb is busy with his own friends, which means you don't have to be subjected to any more jealous staring.

When school ends a small body wraps its arms around one of yours the moment you step foot outside the building. You look down to see her once again staring up at you with her big ol' eyes. The same eyes you remember spending an embarrassing amount of time customizing. She's asking you to come back home with her to help her on her homework.

Before you can answer a sudden chill runs down your spine. You don't even need to turn your gaze to know who's staring at you. You try to tell her that Caleb should help her instead. After all he is her best friend, and you two still don't know each other very well. (She doesn't know you well. But you know everything about her thanks to your love of a 3D dating sim.) Your suggestion falls on deaf ears. There's nothing you can do as she drags you home with surprising strength for an eight year old.

The next day you try leaving for school early. She manages to catch up to you before you're even a block away from your home.

You make sure to sit between two friends during lunch. Your butt barely has time to hit your seat before one of them gets invited to sit with her crush, leaving an empty seat behind. The spot immediately gets filled by a tinier body.

School ends, you hide in the bathroom until you're sure the majority of the students have left. You creek open the door and peer into the hallway, all you see are few teachers and a couple students. There's no sign of her. Slowly, hesitantly, you make your way to your locker. For once you've successfully managed to avoid her. A wave of relief washes over you as you put in your locker combination and swing open the door.

You grab your gym clothes, lunch bag, homework… One good thing about gaining your memory back is that elementary schoolwork is a breeze. Your heart drops to your ass when you close the door to reveal her waving at you from down the hall.

The possibility of her stalking you crosses your mind after the third week of her showing up wherever you are. Unfortunately the probabilities of an eight year old stalking you is incredibly low. It's also hard to believe she would do something so sinister when seems so innocent and harmless.

Every time you look at her your heart aches. Partly in fear of not knowing what's going to happen if she keeps clinging to you like this. But also because you keep thinking of everything she's gone through, and all the hardships she still has yet to face.

Eventually, when weeks turn into months, you come to accept the fact that no matter how hard you try you won't be able to avoid her. Worry and paranoia still cling to you. It's hard not to feel anxious when you don't know how your unexpected presence will impact the story.

Despite your apprehension you find yourself enjoying the time you spend with her. It's as if you're kindred spirits. When she laughs you can't help be laugh as well. When she cries you feel your heart ache. Everything she feels, you feel too.

On one random night you find yourself mourning your previous life. Sure your past life hadn't been perfect, but that doesn't stop you from missing those you were close with. You wonder how they're doing, if they miss you as much as you miss them. Yes, you love your new family and friends. Even so, there's a sense of loneliness that has weighed heavy on your heart ever since you regained your memories.

The next day you're caught off guard when she pulls you into an unexpected hug on your walk to school. When you look at her you see the glint of unshed tears in her eyes. She doesn't say anything. Unspoken words hang between the two of you. It slowly dawns on you. As she holds you tight, you realize now that she also feels what you feel.

tag list: @chocochip-gaia , @plzdonutpercieveme

[saybeyonce]

"Mom?"

You hear your little daughter call out for you, and you set the book aside so she can climb on the bed and into your arms.

"Hey, sweetie, what's up?" You ask, wrapping your arms around her so her head rests on your shoulder.

"Why do Luke and Kieran wear masks?"

You tense ever so slightly at that question.

You figured that sooner or later she'd ask. You just hoped it would be later, but deep down, you knew she was too curious for her own good.

"Well, baby..." You start, resting your head on top of her. "You know how twins sometimes look alike?" She nods, listening intently.

"Luke and Kieran did, too. But Kieran got really, really hurt. And his face is different now." You explain, running a gentle hand through her white hair. "So Luke had the idea of wearing masks. So they could look alike again. It's sweet, don't you think?"

She nods again, quietly thinking, before raising her head. "Can I see Kieran without his mask?"

You sigh, and simply shrug. "I don't know." You admit sincerely. "That's something you need to ask him. I can't make this decision for him."

She thinks for a while again, and then nods with determination. "Okay. I will ask him." You chuckle softly, squeezing her in a hug. "Good, baby. Now go to sleep, mh? I'll tell dad to tuck you in."

You kiss the top of her head, and after bidding goodnight, she patters off to her room.

You sigh and rub your eyes, still thinking about your little girl.

When Sylus joins you in bed, he raises an eyebrow, seeing you so pensive. "What's on your mind?"

You cuddle up against him, your head on his chest. "Our baby girl. Sometimes I think she's more mature than I give her credit for."

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich in his chest. "She's your daughter, miss Hunter. She probably is."

You playfully hit his side, rolling your eyes. "Be serious for once!"

He simply chuckles again, holding you tighter. "I am serious. She is smart, and mature. And I don't know what you're so worried about."

You silently shrug, looking up at him. "I'll blink and she won't be our little girl anymore. I'm not ready for that."

He lets out a scoff, his signature smirk plastered on his face. "She's seven. You're thinking a little ahead of yourself."

"Mhmh. Sure. You won't be so smug when she brings home her first partner."

You feel him tense at your words, and he quiets down. "We should sleep now." Is all he replies with, making you chuckle victoriously.

"Kieran! Luke!" Your daughter greets them, running towards them. Specifically, towards Kieran, who happily bends down to pick her up.

"Hey, little boss-lady!" He chirps, holding her. "What's up?"

She looks at both of them, before focusing on Kieran and putting a small hand on the beak of his mask.

"Can I see you without this?"

They both freeze, and Luke turns towards Kieran, visibly nervous. "... Why?"

"I want to see what my brothers look like." She explains with a shrug.

"I don't want to scare you." Kieran adds, in a much lower voice.

She shakes her head, determined. "You will not. I'm a big girl. And I know you."

As hesitant as he still is, he finally caves in. He sets her back down on the ground and crouches next to her. He takes a deep breath, lowers his hood, and then finally takes off his mask.

For a moment, she simply looks at him, but her eyes don't show any fear, or disgust.

Instead, she looks at his scars with curiosity and wonder. "Do they hurt?"

He shakes his head, his voice choked. "No. Not anymore."

She gently pokes at his marks, her head tilted as she observed. "Are you sad?" She asks then, pulling her fingers away when she notices the tears in Kieran's eyes, who quickly tries to blink them away.

"No, no, I... I am actually very happy." He answers, clearing his throat in a useless attempt at steadying his voice.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, hugging him in the same way you do when you try to comfort her. "It's okay! Don't cry, Kieran. It's okay."

He nods, hugging her back, trying to suppress the sobs as he nods into her shoulder. "Yeah. It's okay."

Luke smiles to himself, before hugging both of them and holding them close.

Because they're not EVER's abominations anymore. They aren't only henchmen.

Sometimes, they're just brothers. And it's worth more than anything else.

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 15 - Three Little Words

In the aftermath of his confession, you take care of him. You may not understand your history, but your connection is undeniable. There's no doubt in your mind. Not anymore.

You lead Sylus through the winding hallways of the basement of your building. He leans on you in the elevator barely able to keep his head up, you tug on his arm to gently pull him forward. You guide him out front and help him into the car. You slide in next to him and signal to the driver to start heading back to the house on the hill. 

You shift to place your back against the car door, pulling Sylus to you. He leans back against your chest, his head resting in the crook of your neck. You hold his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers, while your other hand slowly glides through his hair. 

“Close your eyes. I’m right here Sy. Just breathe.” You whisper. 

Sylus relaxes under your touch, his eyes close. You watch his chest rise and fall replaying what he told you over and over in your mind. Your blood was boiling, trigger finger itching - you wanted to destroy the people who did this to him. Who used him as fuel. Who tormented him for years and years. Who were ultimately responsible for separating you from him. 

When the car finally stops, you’re worried Sylus has fallen asleep. You give his hand a squeeze and his eyes open slightly. 

“Let me get you inside. Come on.” 

Sylus holds onto you tightly as you guide him up to the front door and into the house. You take him to the master bedroom and help him out of his shoes and clothes. You hold onto his arm as you bring him to the master bathroom. You turn on the water and let the steam fill the room. You gently push Sylus towards the shower, he steps in and braces his hands against the wall letting the hot water run across his back. You quickly take off your clothes, discarding them on the counter before joining him.

You wrap your arms around his waist from behind letting the water wash over the both of you. His luxury body wash and hair products sit on a small rack on the wall. You bring the bottle of body wash up to your nose and take in the earthy tones. Sandalwood and rum spice. You pour the amber liquid onto your palms and lather it onto his body. His shoulders tense slightly, you turn him to face you. You bring his hands to your hips to steady him. You glide the soap over his chest, his breath catching as you pass over a faded scar along the center of his chest. 

You tip his head back to let the water run through his hair. You squeeze a drop of his shampoo into your hand and gently massage the product onto his scalp. His breathing is steady, he begins to lean into your touch. As you run your fingers through his hair to rinse the product clear, you feel his hands grip your hips. When your eyes meet his, they are sparkling again. The haze gone, the crimson color brighter than ever. 

“There you are.” You smile up at him.

“Where did I go?” His voice is calm, but not as confident as usual. 

“You slipped away for a little while. But I had you. You’re okay.” 

He leans down and rests his forehead against yours. He brings his hands up to hold your face and you let your hands rest on his hips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ridgeway. I should have…”

“You were afraid. I know. I shouldn’t have been so extreme, I was overzealous. I’m sorry.”

“You were being protective. You built Himitsu. And what I did threatened everything you worked for."

“But I was being hypocritical. Dorian hired a…” 

“Dorian hired a PI to look into Onychinous activity at the docks?” Sylus finishes your sentence for you. Your eyes widen and you pull back to look at him.

“How long have you known?”

“A while. Caught him snooping around and he agreed to give your man fake info in exchange for his life. Smart man.” You chuckle.

“I didn’t know Dorian hired him until recently and I was too distracted by the Ridgeway fire to do anything about it. Regardless if you knew or not, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Sylus presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a hug. Your body flush against his. Your ear against his chest, counting each heartbeat. You close your eyes, letting the water flow over the both of you. You rub his back and he rests his chin on your head.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He whispers.

You kiss his chest in response. He reaches over and turns off the water. You look up at him, your brow raised.

“I haven’t washed yet.”

“We can finish later, I just want to hold you for a little while. Is that okay?” 

Over the past hour, you watched this man crumble before you, sharing memories that haunt him everyday. You watched as he retreated into his mind trying to suppress his fear and anguish. He could barely stand and stared past you, he couldn’t even look you in the eye. Your heart was broken. Hearing him talk about your shared past that you don't remember. Everything he went through, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. You knew how you felt.

“Of course.” 

He wraps a towel around you before securing a towel around his waist. You walk to the bedroom and Sylus follows. He heads over to the fireplace and turns it on, flames flicker and spark and slowly fill the room with warmth. When he turns back to you, he sees your towel on the floor. He looks up at you with a smirk. You’re tucked into his bed, blanket tucked around your hips leaving your chest uncovered, your back propped up against the headboard, your arms draped over the pillows on each side. You reach a hand out to him, beckoning him to join you. 

He approaches the bed and lets his towel drop to the floor. You glance down and see he’s already getting hard. But he’s not there. Yet... He crawls into the bed with you, he pulls the blanket away from you and pushes your legs apart before he lowers himself on top of you. His face settled against your bare chest. He wraps his arms around your waist. Your hands wrap around his shoulders and you scratch his back gently. You feel his muscles relax and see his eyes close. His hot breath against your chest makes your heart flutter. 

“Sylus?” 

“Hmm…” 

“I know I don’t remember… I wish I did.”

“Y/N you don’t have to-” You cut him off, you don’t want to lose your nerve. 

“But there’s one thing I do know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since that night on the roof. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now.”

Sylus lifts his head and looks up at you. You press your hand to his cheek. 

“I love you.”

Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. You can see the gears turn in his mind, trying to determine if what he heard was real or not. As he looks at you, you see his stress and tension melt away. The mask he wore to intimidate others, and even convince himself that he was invincible, finally slipping away. It’s as if he’s waited years to hear those words from your lips. And he has. You know he has waited. For so long. Too long.

“God it’s been so long since I heard you say that.” He whispers.

“Then I guess I have to make up for lost time.”

You wrap your legs around him and roll him onto his back. You straddle his waist, his hands resting against your thighs. You lean down and kiss his cheek.

“I love you.”

You kiss his other cheek.

“I love you.”

You kiss his neck.

“I love you.”

You kiss his chest.

“I love you.”

You continue pressing kisses along his neck, his jaw, down his chest and abs saying those 3 little words between every single one. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he clenches his fists against your thighs. As your kisses trail lower and lower his back arches slightly off the bed, a soft moan escaping his lips. 

Your hands slide back up his body before squeezing his chest. He chuckles, but his breath hitches as your lips close around his swollen tip. Your hands slide back down and you grab the base of his cock, slowly rubbing. You release him and rub your thumb over his tip, gathering the pre-cum before letting your saliva drip down from your tongue onto him. Your hands work the fluids over his cock slowly, quickening as you hear him moan your name. 

You return your lips to his tip and let your tongue trace circles, savoring his flavor. You can smell his body wash and his aftertaste makes your clit throb. You release him once more, hearing him whimper quietly as you keep pulling away. You smile as you lick the underside of his shaft, the sensation causing him to roll his hips upwards into your hand, which still strokes him at a leisurely pace. Your hand reaches up and caresses his balls, massaging them gently. His moans are louder now, your name like a song leaving his lips between every breath.

You decide to finally stop teasing him and take as much of him as you can into your mouth. You loosen your jaw and close your eyes, letting your face and throat relax as you adjust to his length. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag lightly, you breathe in through your nose and continue to move your head up and down. Sylus weaves his hands through your hair, not pressing you down, just holding your head steady. You moan against him, the vibrations of your throat sending shock waves of pleasure through both you and Sylus. 

Sylus writhes under your sucking and licking, over and over, taking him deeper and gagging briefly before moaning or chuckling at his breathy pleas. He starts pushing against your head, guiding your head as you bob up and down.

“Fuck fuck fu-uck…” 

And with that he lets himself go, filling your throat and mouth with his cum. You swallow every ounce he gives you, the feeling of your throat swallowing around him pushes him higher than he’s ever been. When you finally release him with a gentle flick of your tongue against his sensitive tip, he reaches down to pull you back on top of him. Pulling you into a deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth and grunting as he tastes himself on your tongue. 

“Sy…” You whimper against him.

He rolls you over and presses you into the mattress. His hands move over your body rapidly. He cups your breast, rolling your nipple with his forefinger and thumb causing you to rip away from his kiss as your head falls back. His voice is sultry and smooth in your ear.

“I love you so much. God you’re beautiful…” 

He lets his tongue trace a line down your neck, to your chest and closes his mouth around your nipple. He flicks his tongue over the peaked bud, his fingers on your opposite breast matching the pace of his tongue as he twists and pulls. You can’t even get a moan out, you can only focus on keeping your eyes squeezed shut. He lets go of your breast and trails his fingers down to your clit, his thumb rubbing against you greedily. 

“Sy… Syl-us fuck… ahh ha ahhh…” 

He pinches your clit as he gently bites down on your nipple, pushing his jaw forward rolling the bud between his teeth. You feel your pussy tighten, you squeeze your thighs against him as hard as you can. He releases your swollen nipple with a soft chuckle, pressing soft kisses around the sensitive skin. He pushes two fingers into you without warning and you buck your hips pushing them deeper.

“Sy I need you… love… please…” 

He lifts his face to meet yours, kissing your neck as he finger fucks you. You feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh. You finally remove your nails from Sylus’ back and reach down to grab a hold of him, letting your grip tighten slowly as his fingers thrust. He presses his forehead into the crook of your neck and moans, his chest heaving. He shifts upward and lets you rub his tip against your slit. 

“You’re so fucking wet for me…” 

“Ahh only for you, I love you.” He groans as you whisper into his ear.

With that, he presses his hips forward, his cock forcing your legs to open wider as he enters. You finally remove your hand and reach up to grab his hair. You yank his head backwards so he looks at you through hooded eyes. 

“Kiss me while you take me Sy.”

He doesn’t hesitate, his mouth captures yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, it’s a dance, a battle, a beautiful mess. Sylus takes your bottom lip between his teeth as he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours. He returns to kissing you fervently as his hips start to thrust, deep and fast. You reach your hands above your head and place your palms against the headboard, pushing to keep yourself from being thrust too far away. You wanted to feel him as deeply as possible. 

He plants his hands on the bed beside your waist. He reaches down and pulls one of your legs up, placing it over his shoulder. His other hand returns to your clit, his thumb pressing and circling furiously. His lips never leave yours as he moans and pants against you. 

Your mind races. Everything he told you over the past few hours, the pain, the tension, the anger, the confusion, the loss, the worry - it disappears. It’s just you and Sylus. Nothing else matters. That nagging feeling that you’ve been trying to ignore since you laid eyes on him that night at the bar, it’s finally silent. You feel at peace, no longer running, no longer hiding. Your heart swells as you close your eyes and focus on the feeling of him inside you. You never want him to feel alone again and you never want to know life without him again.

“Baby I need to cum…” His whisper snaps you back to the present. You dig your nails into the headboard and push harder against the smooth wood.

“Cum inside me Sy, I want to feel you fill me.” You rush to get the words out before you yourself are overcome with the heat of your own climax.

Sylus growls into your neck as he lets himself go. His release burns inside you, so warm it relaxes your throbbing walls. He doesn’t slow down, thrusting and hitting your most sensitive spot every time. You feel yourself tighten and Sylus’ grunts turn to loud moans of ecstasy. And suddenly a warm flood erupts from you, soaking the bed sheets, Sylus’ stomach, his thighs and yours - you scream, the pressure released could have sent you into the stratosphere. 

Sylus pulls back to look down and watch as you continue to make a mess.

"Sweetie, you're making such a beautiful mess. Fuck..."

His pace speeds up, turned on even more by the sight. You stare at the ceiling as your orgasm hits a new high. You finally bring your hands down to cling onto Sylus’ biceps. Pulling instead of pushing. You feel his pace slow and you feel your back hit the mattress, you hadn’t realized you were lifting yourself up as your abs had tightened during your release. You let go of Sylus’ arms and let your body melt into the bed, muscles turning to liquid. 

Sylus slows and brings your leg down from his shoulder. He settles down on top of you, his head rests against your chest once again, his cock still buried inside your tender walls. His breathing steadies and his hands trace your arms, finally lacing his fingers with yours. His full weight on top of you feels like a weighted blanket, a very muscular and slightly too heavy weighted blanket. 

“My beloved.” Sylus whispers under his breath. 

You smile, wondering if he used to call you that before. You could get used to that. You close your eyes and breath in the sweet scent of his body wash while the crackling of the fireplace and Sylus’ breathing lull you to sleep.

(There is potential for more to this story, I have several chapter ideas. I will start writing for this again when this chapter gets 100 likes. Thank you for reading!!)

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 14 - Right Here

I’d like to apologize for this chapter, it’s gonna hurt. Like angst doesn't even begin to describe this. Also, this is completely my own head cannon & is ABSOLUTELY NOT lore accurate (as far as we know).

Photo: From Pinterest, all credit to original poster NSFW: Mentions/Depictions of violence, PTSD, torture, death

Your armchair is not as comfortable as you remember. You sit with your knees curled up to your chest. Your hoodie pulled down over your knees, your arms hugging your legs. You rest your chin on your knee, trying to organize your thoughts. You try to imagine you are so small that no one will know you’re even there. 

The lights are dimmed, you can barely see Sylus sprawled out on the floor of the cage. You remember the night you first brought Sylus here. You were so confident, how did you end up here again? 

You replay that night in your head. His voice echoing in your ear. You stare blankly at his unconscious form, digging your fingernails into your palms willing yourself not to cry.

"I’d hate to disappoint you Miss Hunter."

But he did.

"But her mind… that’s what is most fascinating. It’s brilliant, calculated, and somewhat haunting."

And now it’s haunted by him. His voice. His touch. His empty promises.

"Seems like everything about you is special, kitten."

You were a means to an end. A tool to be used and tossed aside. Nothing special.

A soft groan brings you back to the present. You see Sylus roll away from you and onto his side. His back muscles tensing as he tries to ground himself. He reaches a hand up to the side of his neck. He lets out a soft grunt as his fingers trace the sensitive flesh where the needle deposited the heavy drug. He sits up and scans the room, his eyes straining against the darkness.

You hold your breath. You know he can crush the doors of the cage and simply walk out. But this is the only place you could think of bringing him. You could at least lock him in the lower levels of your tower long enough to evacuate everyone else if it came to that. You take a deep breath before using your phone to turn up the lights. Sylus’ eyes snap to yours in an instant. He was usually hard to read, his emotions hidden behind a wall. But when you look at him, you can see he is raw and broken. 

You pull your hoodie up to release your legs, you shiver as the cold air hits your bare skin. You stand and slowly make your way closer to the cage. The room is eerily quiet, the soft pitter patter of your bare feet on the linoleum echoing through the room. As you approach the cage, Sylus shifts to face you. He makes no attempt to stand up. He draws one leg up and props his arm on his knee. 

“There’s a shirt on the chair.” Your voice is void of emotion. You barely recognize it.

Sylus glances over to the chair to see the sweater you brought for him to put on. He returns his gaze to you. His eyes have glazed over, if it wasn’t for his ragged breathing you’d think he was perfectly calm. He tilts his head as he looks you over. From your head to your toes, it doesn’t feel sensual this time, he’s sizing you up. Trying to determine your motives.

“Why?” 

One word. That’s all he says. The base in his voice is amplified, the simple question rings in your ear. You straighten up, your eyes narrow and you cross your arms. You’re the motherfucking leader of Himitsu, time to act like it.

“That is the question of the hour, isn’t it Oni?”

At the mention of his code name, his eyes close. He drops his head. He sighs deeply before looking up to you once more.

“Did the kid tell you before you killed him or did you dig that up on your own?” His words cut through you like a razor.

“Have you heard of a hacker who goes by the name of Macintosh?” Sylus nods. “He’s on my payroll. Took him less than 24 hours to narrow it down once he had the burner.” 

His jaw clenches. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, his eyes finally dropping to the floor.

“Bit of advice. Tossing a burner off the pier is not the most effective disposal method.” Sylus chuckles. 

“And what would you suggest then, kitten?” 

That’s when you lose it. 

“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not your goddamn kitten. But I am, apparently, your plaything, right? Distract me, fool me, fuck me. Was that your plan? So you could stroll into my territory and do as you please? Attack my clients? Destroy Himitsu?”

Sylus jumps to his feet and stalks over towards. He tries to grab you through the bars, but you’ve moved far enough back. He uses his evol to pull you forward. Before you reach the bars your gun is in your hand. Your body slams against the bars, you look up to see the barrel of your gun resting at the center of Sylus’ forehead. He doesn’t back away or try to pry the gun out of your hand. He rests his head against the barrel and holds your upper arms tightly against the bars. 

“Do you really think I fucked you as a distraction?” 

You can’t stop your bottom lip from quivering. The tears you’ve held back threaten to fall once more. You take a deep breath and try to force a smile.

“I wouldn’t be surprised at this point. You’ve lied about everything else.” 

“I’ve never lied about how I feel about you. I can’t.” 

“But you did lie.” Sylus finally reaches a hand up to your face, holding your chin steady. His thumb slowly brushes against your jaw.

“I’m sorry.” 

You break away from him. He doesn’t try to pull you back. You drop your gun on the table next to your armchair. Your fingers rake through your hair as you try to calm down. When you turn back to Sylus, he has an arm propped above his head leaning against the bars of the cage. His other hand extended through the bars to you.

“Please let me tell you why. Why Ridgeway and why I couldn’t tell you.”

You stare at him. His bare chest and strong arms make you ache for him. Your body craves him and it hurts to resist. Your heart hammers in your chest. Should you give him the chance? Your mind drifts to earlier that morning. Sitting in the tub, your body pressed against his, his voice in your ear, that heartbreaking tone as he tells you about your shared Aether fragments.

"You wished we could be free. And I made you a promise, that I would find a way for you to be free."

Your heart wanted nothing more than to reach out to him. To hold him close. You see his arm drop and retreat back into the cage, his head pressing against the bar. You take a cautious step forward. His eyes flutter up to meet yours. You wrap your arms around yourself.

“Why?” 

“Ridgeway has a brother. Goes by Sinclair. He’s a member of the board for a medical tech company. I needed information on Sinclair and I was hoping Ridgeway had records that could lead me to whatever hole he has crawled into.”

“Why are you hunting Sinclair? And how does burning down Ridgeway Liquors help you with that? And why couldn’t you have just talked to me about this?” 

“I needed to send a message to Sinclair. His family will suffer if he crosses a line. I couldn’t tell you… I couldn’t…” He struggles to form the words, he starts to tap his head on the bars. Slowly building the intensity until his forehead is red.

You close the distance and grab onto his hand that has reached up to hold onto a bar. He stops and looks down at you. His eyes are hazy, a tear finally falls.

“I couldn’t risk them finding you.”

You blink rapidly, trying to process what he could mean. 

“Sinclair was one of the doctors that worked on us. He’s looking for you.” 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head.

“I made a promise to you. I promised I’d find a way for you to be free. And I found a way. As long as I knew you were safe, I could deal with what they did to me. But when I heard he was leaving to look for you, I couldn’t let that happen. You’ve kept your identity hidden, it’s bought you time. But if he finds out, he’ll come for you. You being unaware kept you safe, at least that's what I convinced myself.” 

“What do they want with me?”

“You’re an energy source. The most pure and regenerative source ever discovered.”

“Is it the Aether core? What about you?”

“The Aether core amplifies your evol, changes it. Possibly adding to it if you’re unlucky. They used me for… honestly, I don’t know how long. But my energy isn’t enough it seems.”

“Is Sinclair working alone or…” 

“The group he runs, their slogan is A New Kind of Energy for a Brighter Tomorrow - safe to say he most likely has a small army hunting us.”

“I thought I knew every major corporation in the Zone.”

“It’s not in the Zone. It’s in Linkon. But they have their people everywhere.”

“What’s the name?”

“Ever.”

Your heart skips a beat. The name feels burned into your memory. But something Sylus said before is the only thing you can think of. You are afraid to ask, but it’s tearing you up inside.

“You said you could deal with what they did to you… What did they do?” 

Sylus drops his gaze to your hand, still wrapped around his hand on the bar. You see his eyes dim, as if he has retreated into his mind. You squeeze his hand, reassuring him.

“After I helped you escape, they punished me. More experiments, more surgeries. As I became more powerful they put more security measures in place. I can’t access all of my power. They called it a 'bio-metric inhibitor'. All I remember is I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. Eventually they installed a patch over my eye so I couldn’t control anyone. My cell was the energy conduit they used to…”

He looked up at you now, the pain in his eyes so great you could hardly breathe. You hadn’t noticed you had started crying. He brings his arm down to reach through the bars and brush the tears away. You lean into his touch.

“I’ll stop.”

“No. Sylus. Please tell me.” He takes a deep breath before looking down to stare at his feet.

“The regenerative part… when they drain the energy… it… it kills you.” A sob escapes your throat. Sylus doesn’t look up.

“When they first tested their theory… they chose you. No matter how much I begged and fought, they took you away. And when you came back, you had no idea who I was. After that, I spent every day, every hour, every minute working on a plan for you to escape. A month later, I succeeded. You were free. I don’t know how long it was before they needed another energy transference but when they strapped me down I found myself hoping to forget. To forget losing you. But then I woke up. And I remembered everything. My first surgery when they cut into my eye, the first time I saw you, the first time we touched, the first time we kissed, the first time we made love, every time there was pain in your eyes, the fear in them when I put you on the shuttle…”

His grip on the bars was weakening, his body shaking as he spoke. You were frozen, listening to what he went through, for you. Your heart ached. But nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

“And I remembered how it felt to die. Pain so intense I wanted to tear myself in half. Blinding heat then complete stillness then everything was cold. So fucking cold. And dark. It was completely dark, no light anywhere, I searched for days but it was just dark. I found myself wishing for pain and then I’d feel it, like a knife in my chest, my heart started again. I opened my eyes and I was back. I don’t remember how many times I died. I stopped counting. But every time I woke up I would look for you. Wishing that my previous life was a dream and you were still there with me. And every time I would see your empty room and… and I…” 

His voice finally broke. His grip on the bars faltered and he sank to the floor. He pulled his legs up to his chest, for the first time he looked small. You ran to the door of the cage and pressed your thumb to the lock. The door swung open and you rushed inside, crashing down next to Sylus, your arms wrapping around him. You pull his head to your chest and run your fingers through his silver hair. His body was shaking and he didn’t dare touch you. He wouldn’t even look at you. Desperate to bring him back to you, you start placing gentle kisses to his shoulders and up to his neck. You see his eyes close and you move to sit behind him, your legs on either side of his torso. Your arms pull him back towards you. You caress his chest and place kisses on his back.

You sit like that for what feels like hours until one of his hands reaches up to take yours. He strokes your palm slowly. 

“Y/N…?” 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” 

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 13 - Hello Oni

“Go over it again.”

You turn over to lay on your back on your office couch. You stare at the ceiling for a moment before draping your arm over your eyes. You’re desperate to find a comfortable position. Your body feels as if it is on fire. 

“I’ve gone over it 5 times already.” Dorian sighs as he gets off the couch across from you to get another beer from the minibar.

“And this will be number 6.” Your voice is strained. You’ve been trying to avoid crying all morning and it’s getting harder to suppress the tears. 

“Okay.” Dorian sits back down on the couch and uses a key to pop the bottle cap. He downs half the beer before he begins again.

“Divers found the phone. Mack bypassed the security protocols and recovered the texts. He triangulated the locations of the phones. Oni’s cell pinged off a tower close to the Onychinus base. But before I made any assumptions, I called in a favor and got a list of serial numbers for all the burner phones sold in the zone before the fire. Benefits of our allies creating a burner bottleneck. Mack cross referenced the serial numbers with the phone and determined a cluster of serials that most likely connect to Oni. Re-ran the triangulation and pinpointed Oni’s phone. The records show Oni bought 3 other burners at the same time. And one of them is your burner. The one that Sylus gave you.”

You bring your arm down from over your eyes and stare at the ceiling. You take a deep breath, swallowing hard to avoid throwing up. He was playing you the whole time. And you’ve spent the past 5 days getting fucked by this man. How could you have been so stupid? 

“What do I do?” 

Your voice is small. Dorian stands and walks over to the couch you’re lying on. He swats at your feet and you finally sit up. He sits next to you.

“It’s your turn to play him.” 

You know what you could do, but you’re not sure you can handle it. You clear your throat before speaking again. You stand and gather your things.

“Do you still have the extra strength tranq?” Dorian raises his brow at your question. 

“I do, but are you sure you-” You cut him off. 

“I’m sure. Get it for me?” Dorian nods and leaves you with your thoughts. 

Ding

Your burner phone. Fuck. You hold your breath when you check the message.

(Sylus) On my way, dinner in tow.

You need to get back to the house before Sylus gets there. When Dorian returns with a small bag, you finish gathering your things and give him a quick hug before rushing to your car. You need more time. You pull out your burner and send Sylus a quick message.

(You) Could you pick up some whiskey on your way?  (You) Think a change from wine might be nice tonight.

It doesn’t take long for Sylus to reply.

(Sylus) Of course sweetie. Be there soon.

The drive to the house was completely silent. Your mind racing, trying to determine how you’re going to deal with this. You wish you could go back in time and refuse Sylus’ deal. The war would have been easier to deal with than this. You’d rather take a bullet. When you get to the house, you’re relieved to see Sylus hasn’t arrived yet.

You rush to get everything set up in the kitchen before going to the bedroom to get changed. You were used to playing these games. Cat and mouse. Hunter and prey. But when Sylus kissed you, it felt like there had never been a game. Now you were having to put on your game face again. 

As you slip on your lingerie you hear Dorian’s voice in your head. You had looked at the evidence yourself and he had reviewed it 5, no 6, times. This was real. Sylus was Oni. He fucked with one of your clients, in your territory, after he made the deal to stop. You tied the silk bathrobe around your waist as you heard the front door open. Game on.

You saunter out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Sylus is unpacking a bag of food, containers line the counter. You plaster a smile on your face and walk up behind him, your hand gently passing across his back. He looks back at you and smiles.

“I got an Irish Whiskey, Keiran said it goes down the smoothest. Or maybe he said it tastes the best. I can’t remember, honestly.” You wrap your arms around him from behind and start to rub his stomach slowly, letting your hand drift down to his belt. You start to undo the belt, but he places his hands over yours and leans his head back.

“What are you doing, kitten?” He’s obviously amused by your choice to feel him up.

You tug on his shirt and he turns to face you, leaning against the counter. You reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt slowly, keeping your eyes locked on his. He doesn’t stop you, but his brow is raised. You pause to answer him with one simple action. 

You slowly untie the belt of the robe and let it slowly drift down your shoulders before falling to the floor. The lingerie you selected was fully black lace, leaving nothing to the imagination. The lace of the thong barely covers you, sitting low on your hips. The bralette is thin, your hardened nipples pressing into the fabric. Sylus’ eyes widen as he lets his gaze fall down your body. You return to unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes still taking in your form.

After removing his shirt, you take his hands and press them to your hips. You guide them across your stomach, up over your breasts and to your face. He leans down and captures your lips with his own. His breathing is shaky, you can feel the heat radiating off of him. You pull back and he whines softly, you smirk and grab his hands once more. 

“Put me on the counter.” You command, your voice calm. 

Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He tucks his hands under your thighs and lifts you to set your ass on the counter. He quickly moves the food away and reaches to hold your face in his hands. You lean back just as he’s about to touch you. He squints at you.

“Are you trying to make me miserable?” You let out a soft chuckle in response. If only he knew.

You sit up straight and reach your arms behind your back. Sylus places his hands on the counter on either side of your thighs. Your hands reach the clasp of your bra and you gently undo the hooks. Sylus watches you with rapt attention, almost as if he is under your spell. You pull the straps down off your shoulders and smile as Sylus’ gaze focuses on your chest. You drop your bra on the floor beside him, you lean back, your palms on the counter. 

“Touch.” 

Your one word command was all Sylus needed to hear, before his hands were gliding up your body to cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs rubbing your nipples aggressively. You lean your head back letting your hair fall down your back giving him more access to your chest. His lips find one of your hardened peaks, his tongue traces circles around it before clamping down gently with his teeth and pulling, earning him a moan from you. He works his way over to your other breast giving it the same treatment. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. As he places kisses up your chest and towards your neck, you place a hand on the top of his head.

“Stay.”

Sylus growls against your skin and he moves back down your chest. His fingers twisting your nipple harshly while he sucks the other. Your breathing is erratic, but your mind is clear. One of your hands reaches further and further back on the counter, slowly so Sylus wouldn’t notice - not that he could focus on anything other than playing with your chest at the moment. You feel the syringe tucked under the edge of the counter. You carefully pull the syringe free from the tape and position it in your hand. 

“Good boy.” 

He can’t even get out a moan before you jab the needle into his neck, releasing the contents immediately. Sylus pulls back to look at you, a hand reaching up to feel the needle in his neck. He stumbles backwards and you hop off the counter, grabbing onto his arms to lead him backwards to the sofa. He collapses against the cushions, eyes wide, still fixed on you. You see the black and red mist swirl around your wrists trying to pull you towards him, but it dissipates after a few seconds. He tries to keep his eyes open, but the tranquilizer is working quickly.

You straddle him on the couch, your hands press against his chest. You can’t stop the tears now, they flow down your cheeks. You watch Sylus slowly lose consciousness. Your voice is strangled as you choke down a sob.

“Hello Oni.” 

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori

It's going to get painful soon. This is a warning. I'm SORRY.

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 12 - Revelations I am incorporating my headcanon for the Aether Core connection. It’s NOT lore accurate - as far as we know.

You’ve been staying at the house on the hill for the past few days. You and Sylus have indulged in every fantasy you can think of. You’ve recreated your dream of being eaten out on the dining room table. Recreated his dream of throat fucking you by the pool. You secretly pray the chef never finds out Sylus bent you over the kitchen counter, the sink, the stove, the fridge… Basically his entire workspace.  

You both handled work from home, opting to join conference calls from the pool or private office. You were careful not to discuss confidential information when Sylus was around. You knew if Dorian found out you were talking shop with Sylus in the room he would never forgive you.

When you weren’t tongue deep in each other, you and Sylus talked about the bond you seem to share. He explained the situation at the gallery and Chen’s possible “client.” He also explains the Aether Core. He had an Aether protocore fragment implanted into his eye when he was young. He had no say in the matter and no parents to fight for him. 

“The connection we share, the Aether fragment, you have one too.” He places a hand over your heart. You feel that similar warmth.

“I don’t remember...” You cover his hand with your own. He wraps his other hand around your waist. The warm water in the tub has cooled, but you don’t want to get out, not yet. You feel his breath on your neck, his body firm against your back. Sitting between his legs as he presses kisses to your shoulders and neck as he explains.

“Do you want to know?” You lean your head back on his chest.

“Maybe? Yes… Tell me.”

Sylus takes a deep breath. You can tell this story will be hard for him to tell. You pull his hand from your chest and interlace your fingers with his. Giving his hand a squeeze, he sighs. 

“We were in the same laboratory. My surgery was experimental. No one expected me to survive. So when I did, they didn’t waste any time putting your fragment in. Our rooms were next to each other. The walls were thin, so we’d sit and talk for hours. Well, when they weren’t running tests or experiments on one of us. We grew up together. We kept each other sane all those years. If you came back from tests crying, I’d sing to you. You’d be laughing in no time. And… if I woke up from a nightmare, you’d read to me until I fell asleep.”

Sylus tightened his grip around you. You could feel his heartbeat quickening against your back. You rub small circles on his arm, his grip loosening slightly.

“On your 18th birthday, I... aha, 'gently convinced' a nurse to let me into your room. It was the first time we were truly alone. No nurses hovering or doctors forcing us to practice controlling our Aether energy by resonating. Or…” His voice trailed off. Your heart broke listening to him.

“Did you make me a cake?” You heard him let out a breathy laugh. 

“Sort of. I could finally pick up things with my energy so… I stole cookies out of the vending machine down the hall. Couldn’t steal a candle though, but you still made a wish. You wished we could be free. And I made you a promise, that I would find a way for you to be free. I don’t remember much else from that night. Besides just holding you. And trying to figure a way out.” 

“And did you?” 

You finally turn slightly to look at him. He avoids your gaze. You lift his chin so his eyes meet yours. And your heart nearly stopped when you saw his red eyes were glazed over, tears threatening to spill out. 

“I did.” 

The rest of this story can be told later, you were desperate to see him smile again. You quickly change the direction of the conversation. 

“What happens if we find another Aether core or fragment? How does that help us?”

He presses your back lightly urging you to stand. He wraps his arm around you, helping you out of the bathtub. He takes a towel and starts drying you off gently. You raise your arms and turn in a circle for him, he chuckles. When you face him his smile has returned. 

“Well, it might strengthen our connection. Stabilize it. May change our evol or strengthen it.” You grab the new towel off the rack and he holds onto your hips as you dry him off.

“So was the protocore at the auction…” 

“It was a decoy. I have people testing it now. It was strange, the energy it gave off... It drained me. If it hadn’t been broken, I don’t like to think about what could have happened.” He leans in and starts placing kisses to your neck, you’ve stopped trying to dry him at this point leaning into his kisses.

“So we keep searching. We’re in this together, okay?” He cups your face in his hands. 

“Okay.” 

He takes the towel from your hands and tosses it on the counter. His hands slowly reach around you to grab your ass, he pulls you to him, his erection pressing against your stomach.

“Don’t you have a meeting in an hour?” Your voice is gruff as his hands squeeze.

“That’s more than enough time to fuck you senseless.” You let your head tip backwards, his lips pressing against your jaw. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“Promises. Promises.” 

He laughs, moving swiftly to pick you up and place you on the bathroom counter. He captures your lips with his. He presses your shoulders back to the mirror, you shift your ass forward and relax into the position. He pulls away from your lips bringing them down your neck, to your collarbone and over your breasts. He places a gentle kiss to your nipple before he takes the bud between his teeth, biting lightly. You grab onto the back of his neck.

“Sy!” 

You feel him smile against your skin before his lips continue down your body. He kneels with his head between your thighs. He drapes your legs over his shoulders and looks up at you with the slyest of grins. You’re about to give him an earful, but he sinks his face into you. His tongue pressing directly into your pussy with no hesitation, his nose pressed against your clit. Your eyes roll back and you gasp.

He speeds up his movements, rubbing his nose against your clit faster and faster. His tongue thrusts and swirls inside you, savoring every ounce of your arousal. He wastes no time, he has a meeting to get to after all.

Ding Ding

Sylus’s phone chimes on the other side of the room where your discarded clothes are. Sylus swears under his breath before rising to his feet, his chin and nose coated in your wetness. You let out a small whimper.

“I’m sorry kitten, there’s an emergency apparently.” He strides over to his jacket. And as frustrated as you are, you enjoy this view of his ass. Sylus retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.

“What?” His voice is cold. 

The need for friction between your legs is nearly impossible to ignore. So, you decide not to ignore it. Your fingers find your clit and you start to trace circles, being more rough than usual, you stare at Sylus letting your desires fuel the speed. You moan quietly, but Sylus still hears you. He turns and looks at you, eyes wide as he realizes what you’re doing. 

“No no, I’m still here. Did he say why he wants to attend?” His voice is strained. Keeping it professional while watching you play with yourself is proving to be very challenging. 

You spread yourself open as your middle finger glides over your opening. Your long strokes gather your arousal. You finally push your finger into your pussy, feeling how wet you are pushes you to move your fingers faster against your clit. Your breathing is erratic and your legs twitch slightly, but your eyes are locked on Sylus. And from the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to cum from just watching you. You slide another finger inside and a deep growl escapes your throat.

“I’m on my way.” Sylus says and hangs up quickly, dropping his phone on the clothes pile. 

He crosses the bathroom in a blink and places his hand over yours, putting more pressure against your clit. He buries his face into your neck and nibbles at the soft skin under your jaw. Stars cross your vision as you near your release. 

“Sy… I need to cum…” 

Sylus pulls your hand away and reaches down to place his leaking tip at your entrance. He rubs himself against your clit. 

“Say please.” Sylus whispers. His hand reaches up to wrap around your neck. As his grip tightens and your breath hitches, you wrap your legs around him.

“You’re the worst…” You mutter between gasps. Sylus pulls back and tries to move away from you. You throw your arms around him and dig your nails into his back.

“No no no… please please Sy… please…” Your words rushed and desperate. 

Sylus smirks before pushing into you, hard. Pleasure mixes with pain, as he starts to thrust into you rapidly. Your head presses back into the mirror and Sylus grunts at every thrust, feeling his hips slam against yours, a symphony of wet slaps fill the space around you. 

Ding ding

Sylus’ phone chimes again. Frustrated moans leave both you and Sylus’ mouth. Sylus’ pace never falters. He tucks his hands under your knees and pulls them upwards, placing your feet flat on the counter. He wraps his forearms around your thighs, using them as anchors. With your legs pushed closer to you, Sylus is able to dive deeper. Slamming against your deepest sweet spots. 

“Fuck-in he-hell…” Sylus mutters against your chest. 

Ding

Now it’s your phone ringing. Your fingernails dig into Sylus forearms, forcing Sylus to pull back and you pull him into a kiss, trapping him against you. His pace becomes more erratic and you feel every twitch of his cock as he unloads into you. Your release is not far behind, you break away from him and scream his name. Sylus holds onto your thighs, rocking your forward, working both of you through the peak of your joined climaxes.

Ding

Your phone rings again. Sylus finally pulls out, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve got to get to this meeting, jackass arrived early and brought a special guest. I’ll bring back dinner, okay?” You nod and kiss him before he leaves to get dressed.

You hop off the counter and shuffle to your clothes to grab your phone. You place a towel on the vanity chair before sitting down. You finally open your messages.

(Dorian) Call me.  (Dorian) It’s urgent.

You press the call button and it rings only one time before Dorian picks up.

“You need to come to the office.” Dorian’s voice is cold and bitter.

“What’s going on?” You try to mentally prepare for Dorian’s latest tirade. 

“Sylus has been lying to you.” You roll your eyes. 

“Dorian, you’ve been suspicious since-” Dorian cuts you off.

“Onychinus is behind Ridgeway Liquors burning down.”

“What?”

“Sylus is Oni.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

When your slow burn story is too slow burn, so you do 2 spicy chapters back to back... maybe 3... Smile.

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 11 - Taking Control

Happy Halloween - here's a treat :)

The car door is barely closed before Sylus is all over you. He kneels before you, caging you in against the seat with his arms, his lips pressed to yours once again. He pulls back and you stare at him with hooded eyes. You gently run your fingers down the front of his neck, before tugging his ascot loose and tossing it on the seat next to you. Your fingers tracing his collarbone, dragging your nails along his skin as you near the buttons of his shirt and waistcoat. 

The look on his face is one of pure ecstasy. His eyes glistening, breathing rapidly as he leans into your touch. It’s like he can’t get enough, he needs your hands on him. He smiles breathlessly. You feel a soft laugh leave your chest, to see this man on his knees, begging for your touch is everything you dreamt it would be and more.

You wrap your fingers around the back of his neck and pull him towards you. His hands slide down and he pushes your knees apart, settling himself between them. His body is pressed against yours now, his hands greedily digging into your hips. 

His lips pull back from yours and you whine in response. He starts placing kisses down your jaw and neck, stopping at your collarbone to lavish kiss after kiss. He nibbles and sucks, leaving a trail of marks behind. Your moans fill his ear which only makes him kiss you more fervently. One of his hands slides up your waist and glides over your breast. The gold wiring presses into you and as he starts squeezing you feel the wiring press into you nipple making your back arch off the seat at the sensation.

“You’re so… beautiful…” Sylus whimpers against your chest. You run your hands through his hair, grabbing hold to steady yourself.

Sylus reacts to every moan and movement you make. You can tell he wants nothing more than to rip your dress off to allow his mouth to continue its exploration. He pulls the fabric of your dress down to give him more access to your chest. If the bodice wasn’t so tight, you would have been completely exposed. His hands release your breasts and glide down your body. One of his hands reaches the hem of your dress and he gathers the fabric before lifting his eyes to look at you.

“Are you okay with this?” He pants and you smile wickedly.

“God yes...” You hold his face in your hands, making sure he knows you need him as much as he needs you. 

His lips find yours once more as he quickly removes his gloves. He pulls your dress up over your knees before his hand makes its way further up your thigh. His fingers pass over your gun holster, which has a knife tucked safely in its sheath. He breath catches, you know he will never underestimate you again. 

As his fingers reach the lining of your panties, he rubs his thumb over the cloth. You could feel your arousal pooling the moment he grabbed your face on the sidewalk. Now, you couldn’t hold back. You feel him tremble as he feels how wet you are. He pulls the fabric to the side and starts to slowly explore. His other hand reaches behind you and pulls your ass forward so you’re leaning back, his lips never leaving yours. 

He pulls back from kissing you to watch your face as he touches you. His thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing slowly, building up speed as your breathing becomes more erratic. You bite your lip and try to maintain eye contact. 

“Don’t bite your lip… I need to hear you...” Sylus pleads and you oblige. Your breathless whimpers fill the space around you.

His index finger pushes into you slowly, curling to give you just the tiniest bit of stimulation. It isn’t until his middle finger joins in and he starts thrusting further into you that you allow your head to fall back. You squeal as he bites down on the side of your neck. You feel his smile against your skin. You rake your fingers through his hair before grabbing hold and yanking him back to look at you. You pull that smug grin into another kiss, trying to focus on the dance your tongues have started rather than the building tension between your legs. You needed more.

The car comes to stop and the driver knocks on the glass partition. You suddenly pull apart and stare at each other, Sylus’ eyes darting out the window and back to you, he removes his fingers slowly. You both chuckle at how flushed and unkempt you’ve both become. You look out the window to see the house, the house on the hill. Sylus clears his throat. His eyes search yours, unsure what you’re in the mood for. 

“My driver can take you home if you prefer.” 

You reach for his hand, his fingers still glistening from your arousal, you bring them to your mouth and proceed to suck them clean. Sylus’ jaw is clenched, eyebrows knitted together furiously. You know his erection must be agonizing. You pull his face closer and lean into his ear.

“Sylus, I want to fuck you.” The car door is open and Sylus is carrying you bridal style before you can say another word. 

The front door crashes open, Sylus closing it with his foot before bounding up the stairs. He enters the master bedroom and stops suddenly. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he sets you down. You’re surprised you’re not on the bed, but Sylus turns you around and begins carefully helping you out of your dress. It is a two person job after all. 

Layer after layer, your dress is deconstructed until you’re only wearing the loose white base. You stop Sylus from sliding it over your head. You turn to face him, a look of confusion paints his face. You reach up and start unbuttoning his shirt. His smile returns, realizing you want to undress him yourself. You want him to feel your eyes on him. 

You finish unbuttoning his shirt and waistcoat, allowing your hand to glide over his abdomen. You circle him to slowly pull his tailcoat over his shoulders and down his arms. You have to stand on your tiptoes, but feeling Sylus shudder under your touch as you remove his clothes is worth the discomfort. You then remove his shirt and waistcoat in unison. His torso now on full display before you, his muscles defined, a sheen of sweat coating his chest. You return to your place in front of him and meet his eyes, the desperation is clear, his patience thinning. 

You start to unbutton his pants and he grabs your wrists. You glare at him, he caresses your cheek with his other hand. 

“You’re sure about this?” He says, his voice gentle. You nod and lean into him as he captures your lips with his.

You wiggle your wrists free and continue. You push the pants down over his hips and let them fall to the floor. You reach up to place a hand over his, which is still caressing your cheek. But the other slides gently down his torso, slipping past the hem of his boxers to wrap around the base of his cock. He pulls away from your kiss as his breath catches and he tilts his head back.

Your strokes are slow, but deliberate, touching Sylus like this for the first time needs to be purposeful. Not sloppy or half-hearted. Your thumb traces his swollen tip, already leaking pre-cum just from your touch. He places his forehead in the crook of your neck, moaning quietly. You want to feel him against you, to feel the vibrations of his body as he moans. You pick up your pace and bring your other hand down to his ass. You give his ass a squeeze and he grabs hold of your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress roughly. You move to get on your knees, but Sylus stops you. He gasps as your grip tightens around him from the sudden movement.

“S-sorry.” You stutter. Sylus laughs and pulls your hand out of his boxers.

“Don’t be… I just… I need to feel… you…” 

“For someone usually so confident and intimidating, you’re being so adorable right now.” Sylus narrows his eyes at you. You giggle at his glare. He pulls you in and kisses you deeply, waiting until the last second to release you. Both of you gasp for air as you stare into each other's eyes.

“You’re in my head, it’s because of you I can’t form a sentence.” He leans down to grab the back of your thighs, he lifts you and carries you to the bed. He drops you down and tugs at the hem of your dress. You don’t stop him from pulling it over your head. 

You lean back and inch yourself further onto the bed. Sylus pulls off his boxers and proceeds to crawl toward you. His fingers hook onto the lace of your panties and tugs them down your legs. His body hovers over you, he lowers himself to his elbows and you gasp at the feeling of his skin against yours.

He was taking it slow, you knew he could have fucked you in the car, on the couch, on the kitchen counter for that matter. He brought you to the bedroom and was so careful removing your dress. He wants you to set the pace, he wants you to be in control. He hasn’t said as much, but you feel like this is how he is apologizing to you. For trying to control you at the auction. 

He kisses your neck, his hands gliding over your body, squeezing and pinching your nipples in earnest. You’re desperate for friction. The throbbing between your thighs is driving you insane. 

“Sy…” 

He moans into your neck in response, you feel his body relax against you and you seize your chance. You push his shoulder and he rolls onto his back. You climb on top of him and plant your hands on his chest. He smiles up at you, holding onto your thighs.

You reach down to grab hold of his cock once more, stroking as you position yourself over him. You hear him groan deliciously beneath you and you can’t wait anymore. You slide his tip into you, faster than you intended. He bucks his hips at the sensation, thrusting further into you and you shout in surprise. His eyes fly open.

“A-are you ok-kay?” His stuttering is so cute. You reach for his hand and guide it up your body to your breast. Encouraging him to resume his teasing. 

“Thought you’d love hearing me mhnn… scream for you…” Your cries of pleasure fill the room as you take him inch by inch. Sylus’ eyes roll back as you continue to take him. 

The feeling of him filling you, you molding to fit him so tightly. Like his cock was made for your pussy. You hate yourself for even thinking that... you know it sounds ridiculous, but goddamn, it feels so good. You feel his hips flush against yours and smile deviously down at Sylus. He holds his breath trying to adjust to how tight you are around him. You start rocking your hips using your thighs, you squeeze against him to help you move faster. You grab his shoulders, anchoring yourself. 

He brings his hands to your hips, following your rhythm before reaching beneath you, finding your clit instantly.

“God, you feel so good…” 

Sylus picks up his pace and begins to thrust his hips, driving himself further into you bringing tears to your eyes.

“I- ahh- fuck...” Sylus whimpers beneath you. The sound brings you so close to your climax you throw your head back and close your eyes. 

You rock your hips harder, squeeze your thighs tighter, Sylus tries to lean up to kiss you, but you push him back on the mattress roughly. This sudden act of aggression slows Sylus’ thrusts briefly as he registers your actions. You run your hands over his chest, dragging your nails over his nipples and leaving faint marks down his abs.

“Goddamn it… fuck…” Sylus can’t stop the string of expletives that spill from his mouth. You feel his cock throb and watch as his ads flex.

The feeling of his fingers on your clit, rubbing and circling faster and faster, his thrusting resumes and his cock dives deeper into you as you rock and bounce on top of him. Your moans harmonize together.

“Sy, I want you to cum for me…” Your voice is raspy, your nails dig into his chest. And, just like you asked with no hesitation, he unravels beneath you. 

You look down at your joined bodies, your breathing grows shallow. Sylus moans loudly, feeling you tighten around him as you reach your peak. The sight of him beneath you, how he feels, how he responds to every motion you make, you feel the dam break and you release. Sylus holds onto your hips and rocks you through your orgasm.

As you come down from your high, you collapse onto him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his heartbeat in your ear. His arms close around you, a hand coming up to stroke your hair. 

“I am not usually…” His voice is shaky as he catches his breath.

“You’re usually the one in charge.” You look up at him to see him staring down at you. 

“Submissive looks good on you. But if you’re a good boy I’ll let you be in charge next time.” Sylus scoffs, but you feel his cock, still nestled inside you, twitch slightly as it grows harder. 

He sits up suddenly, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist, the pressure of his cock intensified with the movement. You gasp and hold onto him. A mischievous smile spreads across his face.

“It’s a good thing we’re just getting started.”

Yes, I did channel Bridgerton Polin because… I am obsessed. Sylus is a gentle, subby & needy bitch in this chapter. I needed to see this version of him. So I wrote the damn thing. Smile. This is only the beginning, be sure to follow to see the rest of the story (I have so many chapters already written...)

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 10 - Angels Tonight's the night, the charity event… Will you & Sylus find the mystery protocore? And can you not panic for one moment over what Sylus is to you? This business deal is becoming something else entirely.

TW: Mentions of violence & use of explicit language

Visuals: Dress/Suit/Event: https://shorturl.at/mefF8 How he finds you:https://x.com/Babygirlvnl/status/1843170876889628712

This was the week from hell. The only time you weren’t stressed was when you went to your dress fittings. Sylus had sent you one image to base your outfit around. 

(Sylus) We’ll match for the event.  (Sylus) Will help us fit in.  (Sylus) *image of two gold masks* (Sylus) White & gold.  (Sylus) See you Saturday, kitten

The gold masks, white and gold colors - not what you expected given Sylus’ mostly black wardrobe with a dash of red here and there. You half expected to be given Luke or Kieran’s mask on Saturday. Maybe that was the point, Sylus wanted people to be surprised. 

You worked with your designer, Mia, to create something truly magical. A relatively simple white dress sits beneath a corset made of intricate gold appliques and wiring. The bodice fits perfectly and spirals upwards to the chest. The neck and shoulders are structured to hold up the sheer floor length sleeves trimmed with gold lace. Mia went over custom jewelry pieces with you to make sure the neck piece and rings, which would be attached to the sleeves, were to your liking. And she laser cut your headpiece by hand so the mask would connect seamlessly. On the day of your final fitting you stand before the floor length mirror in awe of Mia’s work. It only took her 5 days to construct a dress that makes you feel beautiful, powerful, ethereal. 

(Sylus) I don’t even get a peak?  (You) It’s not like you’ve given me a peak… (Sylus) It’s a suit. (Sylus) White and gold (You) *shocked face emoji*  (You) You don’t say! (You) Well, mine is a dress. (You) White and gold (Sylus) *shocked face emoji* (Sylus) You’ll look stunning in that…

You once again find yourself in front of your vanity trying to make your hair cooperate and your makeup someone presentable. Your chef, Maddy, works the curling iron - she is also trying her best to keep you calm.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous for an event before. What’s got you so rattled?” Maddy pins up the curl to cool. She’s always been your go-to when it comes to getting dolled up. Her hair and makeup is always immaculate. 

“I’m just… I just haven’t gone to a big event in a while. Being a little nervous is not a bad thing, it just means I’ll be on my toes.” You apply lash glue on your false lashes and say a prayer the application goes well for once. 

“I’ve seen you nervous, this is different. This… this wouldn’t be because of Sylus? Would it?” You can see the smirk on Maddy’s face from the mirror. You try to put on a serious face, as serious as you can with one eye closed to let the lash glue set.

“How about you save the dancing for tonight?” Maddy sprays your pinned up curls with hairspray.

“Huh?” 

“Stop dancing around the topic.” Maddy starts unraveling your curls now that they’ve cooled.

“What topic?” You smile wide to check your teeth for lipstick.

“Jesus… What is going on with you and Sylus? I say his name, your cheeks flush. I ask how the dinner was, but you just sit there squirming in your seat. Just say it out loud woman!” Maddy stops working on your hair to force you to look at her in the mirror. You sigh, she isn’t going to let this go. And maybe, just maybe, talking about it will help.

“He’s hot. Really hot. And he’s confident, sometimes cocky. There’s an energy that surrounds him. And it’s not just his evol. It’s…” You keep your eyes glued to Maddy. “It’s terrifying, but captivating at the same time. I feel like I need to be around him. Like there’s something, unsaid? Or waiting?”

“This is more than a business deal isn’t it?” Maddy places a hand on your shoulder as she speaks. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks. This time it isn’t a flush. Your eyes start to burn as tears well up. Maddy rushes around to face you, grabbing tissues to stop your tears.

“I don’t know…” You whisper.

“No no, honey stop, you'll ruin your makeup.” You laugh weakly. “I didn’t realize.. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

You take a deep breath and tilt your head back to stop the tears from falling. Maddy rubs your shoulders gently.

“No, I… I wish I could explain how I feel better. When we talk it’s effortless. You know those friends that you can go years without seeing and then you meet up for coffee and it’s like no time has passed? That’s how I feel with him. But to my recollection, we’ve never met until a few weeks ago. I’ve been racking my brain to understand this and I just… I don’t know…” 

Maddy nods along. She continues curling your hair before braiding a few strands to weave around the headpiece. She doesn’t try to offer advice or analyze, she just listens. Eventually, she helps you into your dress, definitely a 2-person job. You stand before your floor length mirror to see the final result. You look like an angel in a renaissance painting. You just needed the mask.

Maddy turned you around to face her, taking your hand in hers. 

“If it’s effortless, lean into it. Talk to him. But tonight? Tonight, just focus on having fun. Okay? You work so damn hard. You deserve a break.” 

Ding

(Sylus) Tick tock, kitten.

Maddy places a shawl over your shoulders. She pulls you into a gentle hug before walking you to the elevator. She waves at you as the door closes. You focus on your breathing. Everything will be fine. Everything will be okay.

The elevator door opens and there he is. Standing in the center of the lobby, waiting for you. His white suit adorned with the most intricate golden designs. Fitted tapered suit pants, a waistcoat cinching him in, a silk golden ascot knotted around his neck, and the tailcoat… It’s a work of art. The golden swirls and beading trail up the lapels over his broad shoulders, down the sleeves and across the back. Even the white gloves on his hands had golden accents. His hair slicked back, a stark contrast to his normal swoop. He turns to see you exit the elevator. His eyes soften and you see him take a deep breath. 

You walk up to him slowly and smile sweetly.

“You clean up nice.” Sylus chuckles at your teasing tone.

“So do you, kitten.” He takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. His lips are so gentle against your skin. He places your hand over his arm and he leads you out to the limousine parked out front. 

The drive to the event was unusually quiet. You and Sylus exchange pleasantries. You both share stories about your designers and how they both hate the color gold after this week. But Sylus is more stoic than usual, he keeps his eyes forward barely glancing at you as you watch the street lights passing by. The energy is tense, every time you dared to take a peek at Sylus he is adjusting his sleeves or gloves. The expression on his face looks like… no… Could he be nervous? 

Suddenly, Sylus opens a box on the seat beside him, revealing the golden masks. He passes the box to you before securing his. You struggle to adjust it and Sylus places a hand on your shoulder before taking the ribbons and securing the mask for you. The limousine comes to a stop in front of the gallery where the event is being hosted. You look over to thank him, but he has already opened the door to depart.

Sylus circles the car quickly to open your door and offers his hand to you. You take it and he helps you out of the car, ensuring your dress is safely outside before closing the door behind you. There are photographers and journalists all over the sidewalk, security forms a barrier to usher you and Sylus into the gallery. 

The gallery is breathtaking. From the paintings, to the string quartet, to the 10 foot tall champagne glass pyramid - it’s an extravagant event. Your grip tightens on Sylus’ arm as he leads you around the room. No one knows you are the leader of Himitsu, but you know if Sylus says one word everyone will know the leader of Onychinus is in attendance tonight. He places a reassuring hand over yours. 

“May I have this dance?” His question takes you by surprise. 

“You may.” He leads you to the dance floor. He places a hand at your lower back and you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you closer and you both start to sway to the music.

“I’m gl-…” He clears his throat. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight.” Sylus… is he… did he just… This man just stuttered. You snap your eyes to his. He tries to play it off by plastering on that all too familiar smirk.

“I am too. Seeing you in something other than a black suit is… interesting. I think the best word for it is… ethereal.” Your voice is so calm. No, not just your voice. YOU are calm. You can be the confident one for the night. And that excites you.

“I guess we’re a match made in heaven then.” You laugh at his sentiment.

“Funny. But I think we both know we’re no angels.” Sylus nods in agreement.

“Maybe not, but tonight, we’re whoever we want to be.” He pulls you closer as he spins you, his mouth to your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Who do you want to be tonight, kitten?” You lean back to look into his eyes.

“How about just Y/N?” Sylus’ smile fades, he holds your gaze. 

“Then I’ll be just Sylus.” And just like that, the energy clears. You feel drawn to him, and you don’t want to fight it. You want to understand why you feel so at ease with him, like you’ve known him all your life.

“Well then, Sylus…I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“This is going to sound strange… I don’t… hmm…” You struggle to find the right words.

“Don’t overthink it. Just ask.” His voice is stronger now. Not demanding, but firm.

“This doesn’t feel like a business deal. There’s something… something deeper and I can’t figure it out. So… my question is…” 

Sylus nods for you to continue.

“What are we doing?” 

You know it’s a vague question, but it’s been on your mind since that night on the rooftop. This is more than just a search for a protocore. More than just an attempt to stop a war for territory. What are you doing? 

“Kitten, I know…” Before he can continue, a hand claps down on Sylus’ shoulder. 

“The man of the hour! I thought I’d never find you.” A man in a red tuxedo and a haunting devil mask greets Sylus.

“Chen. It’s been a long time.” Sylus shakes hands with the man. You return your hand to Sylus’ free arm and smile politely. 

“Sylus, who is this lovely creature on your arm? I had no idea you were bringing someone tonight!” Chen looks you up and down, not once, not twice, but three times. You feel Sylus’ bicep flex under his sleeve.

“This is Y/N. My beautiful date for this evening. Where’s your wife, Amy, is her name right?” Chen’s smile drops momentarily at the mention of his wife, but quickly regains his composure. 

“At home with the little one. Word of advice, if you two have a kid one day, make sure you have at least 5 backup babysitters.”

“Oh we’re-” Sylus starts to speak, but you cut him off.

“Thank you for the advice. We appreciate it. Did I hear Sy right? You’re Chen? Chen Xi? You own the gallery right?” The cheerfulness in your voice takes Chen and Sylus by surprise. You take a peek at Sylus and nearly laugh out loud at his stunned expression. It’s like he’s suddenly remembering you’ve played this game for a long time too.

“Ahh yes, this is my gallery. My proudest accomplishment!” His phone rings and he quickly digs into his pocket to find it. He presses it to his ear for a moment before covering the receiver and leaning closer to Sylus. “10 minutes, Cherry Blossoms.” He waves at the both of you before scurrying off to continue his phone call.

“Sy?” Sylus wastes no time spinning you back into position.

“What? I thought you said you liked pet names?” You put on your most innocent smile and poke his cheek. “Did I embarrass you?” 

“No, of course not.”

“Then why are your ears so red?” To have the upper hand finally was a glorious feeling. He was crumbling and you loved it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, kitten.” He drops his voice to a whisper once more.

“They’re the only games worth playing, Sy.” 

At the mention of your impromptu nickname he turns his head away from you. He’s so responsive to your teasing tonight. He turns back to face you, leaning closer. He removes his hand from your back and slowly places it on your neck, his thumb tracing your jaw. He’s staring at your lips, making no attempt to hide it. You lean into his touch. And you both stay like that. Swaying to the music, the other couples on the dance floor fading from view. Your focus is solely on Sylus. 

“Are you going to answer my question now?” Your voice is not as confident as before. Your heart hammering in your chest has made it hard to breathe, let alone feign confidence. 

“What are we doing? Right?” 

You nod. His remaining hand on your waist curls around to your back pulling you in so your bodies are fully pressed together. There’s no doubt in your mind that he can feel your heartbeat. 

“Answer this first, kitten. Do I feel familiar to you?” His voice trembles as he asks. Your hand tightens around the fabric of his jacket. 

“We only met a few weeks ago, I…”

“Does it feel like weeks or a lifetime?” 

Your breath hitches. You remember what you said to Maddy just a few hours ago. 

You know those friends that you can go years without seeing and then you meet up for coffee and it’s like no time has passed? That’s how I feel with him.

Your mind is racing as you stare up at him. He brings his hand up to your face, gently caressing your cheek. You close your eyes trying to figure out what to say next, but before you can Sylus drops his hand away from your face. 

“The auction starts soon. We should head over.” He keeps one hand on your waist and uses the other to pull your hand onto his arm. He leads you through the winding hallways of the gallery.

“He mentioned cherry blossoms?” 

Before Sylus could answer, you see a large painting of a cherry blossom tree and a stairwell right next to it. An armed security officer blocks the entrance. He moves to the side when he sees Sylus. You feel Sylus’ grip on your waist tighten as you descend the stairs. 

The basement level of the gallery is almost as exquisite as the upper floors. The long empty hallways lined with paintings and sculptures. The sound of your heels on the tile floors and your heartbeat are all you can hear. Sylus holds you closely to his side, his hand closed over yours which grips his arm tightly.

“If I let go of your hand, I want you to find cover.” Sylus whispers as you turn to face a large set of golden doors.

“Wait, why-” 

“Find cover and stay low.” Sylus cuts you off. Before you can reply, the golden doors are opening before you. 

The room is full of people, all hidden behind their masks. They chat amongst themselves and stroll around the large room. Cases line the walls holding a variety of goods, an attendant and armed guard standing next to each one. Weapons, sculptures, paintings, necklaces, a crown and a few contain protocores. You and Sylus begin your slow stroll around the room and examine each case.

You turn to ask him what he’s planning, but he stops abruptly in front of a case with a necklace. A delicate golden flower with a ruby at the center hangs from a braided chain. 

“Something caught your eye?” You say to him, watching him closely. Sylus smiles and looks at the attendant standing next to the case. 

“Outbid, no limit.” He hands a card to the attendant who nods curtly before turning the display light off. You’re guessing this is how other guests will know it’s spoken for. Sylus starts walking again while your eyes linger on the necklace.

“Do you think the jewel is your mystery protocore?” Sylus chuckles.

“No. It’s a gift.” 

“Hmm… a gift for who?” Sylus smiles, but doesn’t answer before continuing his walk around the room.

He stops in front of another case, this one holds a protocore. It glows faintly. You see Sylus’ smile fall suddenly. You focus on the protocore. In an instant you have a headache blossoming in your temples. You try to blink away the pain, but the ache remains.

“Is this…” Sylus lets go of your hand. You stare at him with wide eyes. He expects you to move. To find a corner and hide. Your feet stay glued to the floor next to him. You squeeze his arm.

“No.” He turns to look at you. This time there is no question about it, his right eye is glowing. Your headache is blinding now, but you can’t look away. 

Whoosh 

A spiral of black and red mist surrounds you and you gasp as your feet leave the floor. Next thing you know, you are against a wall in the far corner of the room. You spot Sylus still standing in front of the case. 

Click Click Click

You hear the safeties being released from multiple weapons and see guards aiming at Sylus and other guests. Guests gasp and huddle together in fear. You crouch down, as best you can with your dress being so restricting. You gather the material of your dress and reach under to pull your gun from its holster. You would be insane to attend an event like this without a weapon. 

“You think we haven’t noticed your little scavenger hunt?” Chen appears from behind a case holding the skeletal remains of what looks like a mermaid. 

“You assume I wasn’t already aware.” Sylus’ voice is cold and much deeper than you expected. This must be his business voice. Interesting. And sexy. It is very sexy. NO, you’re supposed to be mad at him. What the hell is he doing? He removes his mask slowly, tossing it on top of the case, never breaking eye contact with Chen.

“My client has unlimited resources, if there is another Aether Core in the N109 Zone they intend to collect.” Chen approaches Sylus, he presses his gun into Sylus’ chest. “And I’ve been paid a great deal to ensure it ends up in their hands.”

“And who will benefit from that money more Chen? Your wife and child? Or your secretary and her newborn? I was surprised you went to the hospital for their birth, but then again, you wouldn’t want to miss your second son’s birth right?” 

Chen lurches forward, his gun now pressed under Sylus’ jaw. Chen glares at him as his hand shakes.

“You bastard…” 

“Don’t worry, l’ll make sure your wife and children are adequately taken care of once you’re dead.” Sylus’ voice is laced with amusement as he glares at Chen. 

Before Chen can respond, he is thrown across the room into a large glass case. The glass shatters around him as the black and red mist retreat back to Sylus’ outstretched hand. 

Bang bang bang bang

Gunfire fills the room as guests are shot down. The black and red mist is still shielding you from view. You slip your shoes off and yank your mask off, tossing it aside. It falls to the floor loudly and a guard turns toward the sound. The mist around you thins as you spot Sylus looking toward the guard in front of you. You take advantage of the opportunity.

Bang

The guard drops and the mist surrounding you disappears completely. Sylus rushes towards you but freezes when he sees your gun aimed at him.

Bang

Sylus looks over his shoulder to see a guard fall to the floor. He turns back to you and smiles before disappearing in a cloud of that familiar mist. Guards start falling rapidly, the sound of blood splattering and screams of pain surround you. You focus on taking out guards shooting at other guests. Ushering survivors to cover or nearby exits. 

As the shooting subsides, people begin racing towards the door to escape the gallery. You fight against the crowd as you frantically search for Sylus, your eyes darting around the room. And then there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest. Your hand instinctively reaches up and presses over your heart. Your pulse is rapid, you feel the warmth rise up to your neck, to your cheeks. In an instant you turn and look directly at Sylus, his right eye still glowing faintly. He pushes through the crowd towards you, time seems to stand still until he finally reaches you. He pulls you into a tight hug. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and you shove him away from you as hard as you can.

“Fuck you.” 

You turn on your heel and run to the nearest exit. A blast of cold air hits your face and you finally feel the tears on your cheeks. You swipe a hand across your face and gasp when you see blood on your hand. You look down to see streaks of blood across your dress. You push yourself to keep running, your bare feet slowly going numb on the cold concrete.

“Y/N, stop!” Sylus is right behind you, his long legs having no trouble keeping up with you. You stop suddenly and turn to face him. 

“You weren’t going to tell me anything about this? You knew it was a trap. You knew Chen was going to pull that shit!  So you tucked me in a corner and thought what? That you were protecting me?” Sylus’ face is stuck in a state of shock. His mind reeling as he takes in your voice, so filled with rage and frustration.

“I wanted-” You don’t intend to let Sylus finish a sentence, you feel like an idiot accepting the invitation to begin with.

“You ‘wanted’ what? To keep me safe? If you really wanted that, you would have let me help you. You see me as weak, a woman needing protection, just like everyone else!” The tears you were trying so desperately to suppress trickle down your cheeks. “I have fought, I have bled, I have killed for Himitsu! I am not something fragile that needs to be protected or handled.”

Before you can scream another word, Sylus closes the distance between you. His hands cupping your cheeks. He is not being gentle, he holds you there, eyes on him.

“I should have told you. I’m sorry. I was afraid I’d lose you again and know I won't survive if that happens.”

“Again…?” You whisper. Sylus leans his forehead against yours.

“I know you feel it. You might not remember, but you feel it.” Your hands finally touch him, you hold onto his waist. He’s right. You know there’s more between the two of you and you hate not knowing why.

“Who are you to me, Sylus?” 

“That’s completely up to you kitten.” 

He tries to sound confident, but his voice is wavering with uncertainty. You’re silent. Staring at him trying desperately to remember something long lost. His thumbs brush against your cheeks, until one reaches down to caress your bottom lip. You feel something inside you snap, like your curiosity and desire have taken control and logic has ceased to exist. 

You reach up to the lapels of his jacket and pull him to you, his lips crash into yours. Your wet lashes tickle your cheeks as you close your eyes. You feel his hand in your hair, pulling you closer. His tongue traces your lips and you open without hesitation. He explores your mouth frantically as if he’s searching for something. You bite his lower lip and he pulls back to look at you. His eyes dark with desire and a hint of surprise. He dives back into you and moves his hands down to your waist, leaning you back slightly so you have to wrap your arms around his neck. 

Beep beep

You pull away to look over your shoulder to see the limousine at the curb. Sylus lifts a hand to acknowledge the driver. He looks back at you, a brow raised.

“Come with me?” He asks, barely able to catch his breath. You nod and he grabs your hand and pulls you to the car.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

Everyone writes Sylus so dominant & confident (which I think he is), but I like to think that mask slips sometimes. Nervous Sylus is too cute

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 9 - Dirty Work

You can't stop thinking about that night. How intoxicating Sylus was. His aura, his voice, his taste in wine, the conversation. It's definitely making work much harder than it should be...

*NSFW 18+ Content Ahead*

Hazy memories of you and Sylus in the dining room. Candles glowing, the chandelier swinging above you, red wine. You find yourself looking around for the fireplace, you don’t remember there being one in the dining room. The heat was nearly unbearable, sweat dripping down your face, your hair clinging to your neck. You reach for your wine, but before your fingers even touch the glass your core tightens and you can barely breathe. 

Your breathing is punctuated and shallow. You throw your head back and before you register what’s happening, a breathless moan leaves your lips. The breathlessness is accompanied by warmth and… pleasure. 

You’re finally able to lean back and you look down at the table. How could you forget? You weren’t seated at the table. You were on the table. And you are the meal. 

Seeing Sylus’ head between your legs, his hands holding your thighs… The sight is intoxicating, but what he’s doing with his tongue shuts down every thought in your mind. Your toes curl as he traces circles around your clit. He brings a hand down from your thigh and slides a finger into your pussy. You hear him moan your name as his finger swirls and strokes. You arch your back off the table as he slips another finger inside you. He drags his tongue down to drink you in before returning to your swollen clit and sucking, hard. You grab his hair with one hand as Sylus tightens his grip on your thigh and begins thrusting, faster and faster. You slam your other hand down on the table. 

Bang

Your eyes fly open. 

Bang Bang

“Boss, wake the hell up, we have a problem!” Dorian’s voice is loud and angry. 

You stare at your ceiling, breathing heavy. You did not… you absolutely did NOT have a wet dream about Sylus. Of all fucking people. Didn’t you just rip Dorian a new asshole for bringing up the not-date for the 10th fucking time? Jesus. Are you that desperate? You have a vibrator for a reason. It takes care of you just as good as a man. Okay… maybe not “just as good” but pretty damn good.

“Boss! Seriously, you need to wake up!” His voice is getting more irritated.

“I’m awake, just let me get dressed!” You sit up and wipe the sweat from your forehead. You swing your legs off the bed and hurry to your closet to throw on a pair of black sweatpants and a tank top. You just hope whatever this “problem” is, you’ll have a chance to finish getting ready before going out in public. 

You swing your bedroom door open and Dorian shoves a folder into your arms. Glancing down you see Ridgeway Liquors stamped on the front. 

“Ridgeway burned down this morning.” Dorian turns to land face first on your couch. Grabbing a pillow to cover his head. You flip open the file and start to read.

“Who’d you send to walk the grounds?” Your brain shifts into what Dorian lovingly calls “high-functioning boss bitch mode.” Basically, you’re going to sound like a bitch with no heart, only talk about business and there’s a 95% chance you’re going to hurt someone’s feelings.

“Hugh just got back. He’s writing something up.” Dorian’s voice is muffled by the couch cushions.

“Get your face out of my couch and make me a coffee.” Checking your phone, you see you have almost half a dozen missed calls from the CEO of Ridgeway. Thankfully, when you call he picks up immediately.

“We’re on it, I will have an answer by the end of day. Contractors are working on an estimate. And you’ll get the address for your backup location in the next 2 hours.” Before he has a chance to speak, you info dump Ridgeway in an attempt to dampen the hell storm this has, no doubt, started for Himitsu. 

“I want the name of the fucker who lit the match. I want the name of the fucker who gave the order. Hell, I want the name of the gas station attendant who sold the gas to fuel the flames. End of day TODAY or I break the contract.” Click. He hangs up.  

“Yep, that stick is still up there.” Dorian snorts at your comment and focuses on foaming the milk for your coffee. You thank him as he sets it down in front of you. You stare at your mug, the largest in your collection with “Best Boss” printed on it. You immediately look up at Dorian.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Dorian sits down across from you, looking at his phone. 

Ding

Your phone buzzes with a new message. It’s a picture of a ship with hundreds of containers. Dozens of men cover the boat. You try to zoom in but everything is too pixelated. But there’s a clear logo on the side of the containers. A black bird in a red circle. 

“An Onychinus freight ship? The docks are off limits, who took these photos?” Your voice strained as you try to reign in your frustration. 

“I’ve had a PI looking into Onychinus for months now. He got these last night. Personally, I don’t think it violates your - so called - deal with Sylus.” 

“And if Sylus finds out we have this information?” 

“Then we deal with it. Right now, it’s important you know this. Onychinus is bringing new shit into the zone. And they can dispose of things with that ship too.” Dorian rubs the back of his neck.

“Can we focus on one thing at a time please? The Ridgeway issue is more pressing to us. I need the phone number for our contractor. I also need you to find a new site for them to continue their operations as soon as possible.” Dorian nods and stands up from the table. Pacing in front of the windows making call after call.

Ding

A text message, not from your usual phone. You’re not sure why you decided to start carrying around your burner phone. But on days like today you’re glad you do. 

(Sylus) They’re serving a Chardonnay at this meeting that tastes like I’m biting into a tree. (You) Wine. That’s a good idea actually.  (You) Forget coffee. I definitely need wine at 10am on a Tuesday. (Sylus) Who has you riled up? (You) Besides you? It’s just a normal day in paradise.

You couldn’t tell him anything, but teasing each other via text made you smile. And you needed that, especially today. You sit at your kitchen table for nearly four hours making endless phone calls to get every tiny detail about the fire. You read the reports a second, third, fourth time to make sure you don’t miss anything. You only take a break to make another coffee and eat a banana. Everything is falling into place, but your anxiety is getting worse by the minute. Or maybe that’s the coffee? You’re not sure at this point.

Ding

A text from Dorian. He left about an hour ago to pick up something. You’re hoping this text will confirm delivery.

(Dorian) Delivered. Want me to get started? (You) No. I want to deal with this.

You go to your room to change into black jeans and a fitted black turtleneck. You slick your hair back into a bun and slip on your favorite chunky moto boots. When you don’t get a reply from Dorian you sigh. He always asks, but never listens. You hurry to the elevator and click the basement level button. Show time.

The elevator opens and you’re greeted with the sound of loud thuds and men shouting. You pick up your pace as you head for the door at the end of the all too familiar hallway. The men stationed beside the door give each other a worried look, wondering if they should have intervened when the shouting began. You fling open the door letting it bang against the wall. 

Dorian’s fists are bloody and the face of the man cuffed to the chair is already starting to bruise. Dorian looks up at you, his brow furrowed and forehead glistening with sweat. His eyes burn with anger and he doesn’t lower his voice from a shout.

“He’s close. I’ve got this.” You grit your teeth as you watch Dorian hit the man again.

“I’m not telling you shit you fuck!” The man yells before he spits. Saliva and blood splatter against Dorian’s face and Dorian pulls a knife from his belt. 

“Stop.” Dorian is inches away from slicing the man's nose off. He slowly turns his head to look at you. “Outside. Now.” Straightening up, Dorian tucks his knife away and walks out of the room. 

Dorian loosens his tie and glares at you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shove him. He was unprepared so he stumbled backward, but he never breaks eye contact with you. 

“I had it handled.” Dorian damn near growls back at you. 

“I’m taking it from here. Leave.” Dorian stares at you for a moment before turning to stomp off down the hall like an angry toddler.

“Sorry about that.” You say as you re-enter the room. The man in the chair looks up at you, there’s a hint of humor in his eyes.

“No problem princess.” Your smile widens. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” You lean against the wall in front of him, your face hidden in the shadows. 

“Not a clue. Your boy thought it’d be better to just fuck up my face than tell me shit.” And it was true, his face was bloody, black and blue. Dorian worked him over.

“Ridgeway Liquor. What do you know?” You sink your hands in your pockets.

“They have good Vodka.” He chuckles. 

“So good you make late night trips for a bottle or two?” He remains silent, so you continue.

“If it was so good, why did you burn it down?” He throws his head back to laugh.

“Bitch, I didn’t do shi-” Before he can finish the sound of metal on bone cascades through the room. You stand fully in the light, looking down at the man. His nose crumpled against his face, blood gushing down over his mouth and chin. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” The man spits, splattering blood on the floor in front of him. A tooth included.

“Dorian usually goes bare knuckle. I prefer a bit of sparkle.” You stare down at the brass knuckles that adorn your clenched fist. Custom made, diamond encrusted, now painted with a hint of blood.

“The next words out of your mouth will be the reason why your car was in the alley behind Ridgeway last night.” The man looks at you, surprised by your strength and terrified by your question.

“I don’t- I don’t know what-”

THUD

Another punch lands on the man's face. More blood and another tooth falls to the floor.Another punch lands on the man's face. A loud crack of bones breaking and wails of pain flood the small room. Blood gushes from the mans nose and mouth.

“OKAY okay okay okay… I was there. I was there okay?” There’s desperation in his voice.

“What was the job?” You pick up a towel off the nearby table and clean your brass knuckles. 

“I don’t know…” You raise your fist again. “I DON’T KNOW because… because I just had to put a USB in the computer and I don’t know anything else besides that.”

“Who did you deliver it to?” The man drops his gaze. He stares at the floor and cries out in pain.

“I answer that I die. You can hit me all you want, but I can’t…” 

“Die now or die later. Up to you. At least I’m giving you a choice.” You pull your gun from your holster and place the barrel to his forehead. He cries out, his eyes widening.

“Okay, okay OKAY - I delivered it to a man on 2nd and Vine. He only gave me the name Oni.”

“How’d you communicate with him?” 

“A burner phone. Texted me the details.” 

“Where’s the phone now?”

“Bottom of the ocean. His instructions.”

“Where’d you toss it from?” 

“Whitesand Pier.” You turn and walk to the door. “Wait wait WAIT, you gotta let me go. Please! They'll kill me for this!”

“Don’t worry. Oni won’t kill you.” 

Bang

It takes a few minutes for the ringing in your ears to subside. You holster your gun once more and face the door. You swing it open to see Dorian running towards you from down the hall. He slows when he sees you.

“You good?” He glances over your shoulder to see the man slumped forward in his chair.

“Fine.” You stride forward down the hall, Dorian follows you. “We need divers at Whitesand Pier. If you find a phone, send it to Mack. Get a clean up crew in here.”

Lord Almighty Feel my temperature rising

You pull your burner from your back pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” Dorian picks up his pace to look over your shoulder at the screen.

“Elvis Presley.” You answer curtly before sliding to answer the call. “Hello.”

Sylus laughs before saying, “It’s a video call, sweetie.”

“Wait, that’s-” You push Dorian out of the elevator before the door closes so you’re in the elevator alone. You take a deep breath and pull the phone away from your ear.

“What happened?” Sylus looks shocked when he sees your face. You quickly tap the screen to show yourself. Your face is lightly splattered with blood.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was… painting.” Sylus stares at you for a minute.

“Sure.”

“Why are you calling anyways?” You try to clean some of the blood away with your sleeve. Switching hands to make sure your brass knuckles don’t come into frame.

“Just confirming I have permission to enter your territory to pick you up on Saturday?”

“Yes, of course. I still fail to see why a video call was necessary?” 

“I wanted to see you. Is that a problem?” The blood could have blended in with how red your cheeks were turning. When you don’t respond, Sylus continues, his eyes sparkling.

“I’ll see you Saturday, kitten.” 

The screen goes black as Sylus hangs up leaving your reflection in the glass. Specks of blood still splattered on your face, a bead of sweat drips down your back. He couldn’t have picked a worse time.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

[saybeyonce]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 8 - Just Dinner

It's time for the tour... You & Sylus finally meet and begin your partnership to find the mysterious protocore. But is it a business dinner or a date? Even you can't tell anymore...

Visuals: https://shorturl.at/3XOoh 

Sylus shows you the house, going into detail about every room. Stopping at every painting in the entryway to tell you about the artist and which pieces were custom made. Every vase has a story. Stories of the countries Sylus visited where he went to a night market and bought a piece from a local artist as a souvenir. Even the chandelier was made by a glass maker in Linkon who never takes new clients. But they dropped everything to make a single chandelier for this house.  

The kitchen was fit for custom marble countertops. Two huge ovens and a massive walk-in freezer. There is even a wine cellar, and Sylus’ collection is impressive. Right off the kitchen is a dining room with a table that could seat 20, easily. 

Up the stairs Sylus shows you a bathroom with a huge round tub with a waterfall shower head above it. His and hers vanities line the walls with matching walk-in closets on each side. 

The bedroom has a massive bed with a mountain of pillows. A small sitting area in the corner facing the floor to ceiling windows. A peculiar stand sits next to a fireplace across from the bed. You hear the familiar CAW behind you and you duck to avoid Mephisto hitting you in the back of the head. Mephisto lands on the stand and flaps his wings enthusiastically. Sylus enters pets Mephisto affectionately. Sylus motions for you to come in. You hesitate but enter and join him next to the fireplace. 

“Open the door to the left.” Sylus motions to a door past the bed. 

You slowly approach the door and open carefully. Beyond the door is a walk-in closet that has been transformed into a small arsenal. Guns of all sizes, most are missing pieces or are broken. You look over your shoulder to Sylus with a grin.

“Impressive.” You enter the room and look through the gun displays. You run your finger along an impressive rifle. Even though the metal is rusted you can tell it is cleaned regularly to avoid dust building up. 

“These are my favorites. A reminder that just because something’s broken doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.” He leans on the door frame and watches while you examine the guns. You look over your shoulder and give him a warm smile. Was anything he said real? Or was he just trying to butter you up?

“They are. Beautiful, I mean.” You sip your wine slowly, maintaining eye contact. He backs up to let you pass him and re-enter the bedroom. Your eyes linger on the bed. Professional. Remain professional.

There are multiple guest bedrooms, an office, a gym and a fucking library. The house is amazing. From the design choices to quality of the build, this house does not belong in the N109 Zone. Yet here it is. And it’s so cozy. 

Sylus leads you back to the dining room where the first course of your dinner is already set on the table. Like a gentleman out of a storybook, Sylus pulls your chair out for you. You sit and take in the food before you. The chef refills your wine glass while introducing the first course, an Autumn Fritto Misto. The scent of the mushrooms and apples blend perfectly together. The taste is even better.

Before you knew it, the chef brought in the main course, a fragrant Lobster Risotto swimming in butter. Then the dessert, a Coconut Panna Cotta with Passion Fruit. The wine paired perfectly with every dish. Not to mention the conversation was effortless. Sylus asked about your hobbies and favorite things. You returned the favor. The questions may be relatively surface level, but now Sylus wasn’t just a pretty face. And you had more in common than you care to admit.

“When you’re not running an empire, what do you like to do to relax?” Sylus keeps his eyes on you. Watching you swirl the wine in your glass as you think of your response.

“I’m a fan of baking. I wish I had more time to do it, but like you said, my empire awaits.” Sylus smiles and nods his head toward the kitchen.

“Maybe you can bake here? Take one of these nights to indulge. Put me on clean up duty.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the smile plastered on your face.

“I noticed you prefer vintage guns and your music tastes are… old school. Is there a reason you prefer vintage over modern?” Sylus wipes his mouth with his napkin. The slow methodical swipe across his lips… They look so soft. No, stop… focus.

“Modern weaponry and music is only what it is today because of how the ‘old school’ styles forged a path. And I appreciate timeless beauty.” He stares at you intently as he says the last sentence. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“I see what you mean. Does that preference for vintage carry over to movies too?” 

“I keep up-to-date with new films, but yes, older movies tend to be more straight-forward. Bad guys are bad, good guys are good, lovers… They don’t play games. They say what they feel. I appreciate that.” Your stomach tightens, is he hinting at something? 

The chef brought coffee and began clearing the plates. Sylus looks at his watch and sighs. 

“I’m guessing Luke and Kieran didn’t find anything in the shipment?” 

“I don’t believe they did.” 

“I’m sorry.” Sylus looks up at you with a smile, clearly trying to mask his disappointment.

“It’s a good thing there’s an event coming up that might have a better outcome.” He pushes his chair back and crosses his legs keeping his eyes on you. You lean back, raising an eyebrow.

“An event?” You have a feeling he brought this up on purpose.

“An event I would very much like you to attend with me.” And there it is.

“Is this an addendum to our original deal?” Sylus chuckles before finishing his coffee in one sip.

“No. It can count as next month’s meeting.” You lean forward, placing your elbows on the table. You can’t deny your curiosity has peaked. 

“What kind of event?”

“A charity masquerade. There’ll be an auction, well, two auctions. One official and one not so much.”

“And you think this rare protocore will be available at the not so official auction?” Sylus nods.

“It’s next week. So, will you go with me?” You sip your coffee and stare at him for a long time. 

“I’d love to.” 

Sylus has been very composed tonight. In fact, he has very rarely faltered during any interaction you’ve had with him. But when you tell him you’ll attend this event with him, the smile on his face is undeniable. He couldn’t even keep eye contact with you. He looked down at his now empty coffee cup.

“I’ll send you the details.” 

Ding

Your phone buzzes and you look from your phone to Sylus. 

“That was fast.” Sylus chuckles at your joke. You turn your phone over and see messages from Dorian.

(Dorian) Out front. Ready when you are. (Dorian) Unless you’re having too much fun on your “date”.

You scoff and flip your phone back over. Sylus looks at you, his brows raised.

“What’s wrong?” You stand. Sylus follows suit. 

“My rides here.” 

You look up at Sylus. His eyes burrow into you and you don’t turn away, even when your cheeks feel flush. You know Dorian was just trying to rile you up. This was not a date. It was enjoyable and, sure, you wish Dorian had gotten stuck in traffic or gotten pulled over for driving like an asshole. Just a little more time with Sylus would have been nice. But this was NOT a date. 

Keep trying to convince yourself of that. 

Sylus walks you to the door and you stand in the doorway together, illuminated by the moonlight. You see Dorian in the car, staring at you once again. You turn back to Sylus and realize he is much closer than a second ago. He takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, touching a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, kitten.” You hold his stare. 

The distance between you continues to close until your forehead almost touches his. That smile. That goddamn smile. You bite your tongue and your breath catches. Sylus leans in and you close your eyes. His lips press the whisper of a kiss to your cheek. Not at all what you were expecting. Your eyes fly open and you pull back slightly so you can see him better. You might be seeing things, but it definitely looks like his cheeks are just slightly flushed. You’re probably seeing things. 

“Speak soon.” He releases your hand and steps back into the doorway. You nod at him and flash a small smile before heading to the car.

You’re not even in the car fully before Dorian is peppering you with questions. 

“Did he just fucking kiss you? You can’t say this wasn’t a date after he pulled a stunt like that. Are you going to call off the deal? Did he even find the protocore he was looking for? Or did he tell you anything else about what he is looking for? Are you going to answer me or just sit there looking like a smitten teenager?” That last one hurt a bit.

“Dorian, shut up. For one fucking minute. Okay?” You lean your head back on the headrest. 

“I’m sorry. I just… I want to know if all this is worth it.”

“Do you remember what I told you when we made our first deal and solidified Himitsu in the zone?” After Dorian doesn’t reply you continue.

“We spent four months building a connection and forging a relationship, we secured a partnership that set Himitsu apart. That client is still loyal to us 5 years later. You were just as impatient then as you are now. You tried to rush me and you nearly lost us that contract. So do not rush me now. Understood?” Dorian leaned back in his seat, slightly surprised by your tone. He nods. 

The ride home was silent, which you were grateful for. Dorian was right and you finally admit it to yourself. It was more like a date than a business dinner. But you weren’t upset about that. You are genuinely excited for next Saturday. Maybe things don’t have to be so complicated after all.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1: https://shorturl.at/Bx95C Chapter 2: https://shorturl.at/3PwTi Chapter 3: https://shorturl.at/a7xnF Chapter 4: https://shorturl.at/fKYgX Chapter 5: https://shorturl.at/7YtTh Chapter 6: https://shorturl.at/cMCj7