#Tries really hard to put it out of him mind A Lot

[rainrot4me]

This is gonna be a very very VERY FREAKY ask but uh...um...what kind of porn do the creeps get off to, if they watch/consume that kind of content?

I'm so sorry if this ask is weird and disgusting if it makes you uncomfortable I completely understand if you don't answer this question!

Sweet angel anon, nothing is too freaky for me 🤍 Didn’t include Lj or Slender because I do not think they watch porn, they just don’t seem the type.

๑ Warning: Porn, masturbation, taboo themes

── .✦

✦ . JEFF THE KILLER

Jeff’s got a nasty taste for rough, borderline violent porn—knife play, blood kink, biting, and aggressive rough sex scenarios. Usually scrolls through Twitter ‘daddy’ accounts because they post nasty shit he can get off to.

Think consensual non-consent or “forced” style roleplay with lots of power dynamics. He’s a big fan of forcing the camera in the bottom’s face and watching them choke or cry, barely able to speak. He hates too-polished porn; he prefers stuff that looks shaky and raw, or even homemade. Focuses more on the person receiving than the one giving.

Jerks himself off wherever the hell he feels like—probably in his room or somewhere absolutely gross, like the woods on a mission break. Fast, messy, no patience. Spits in his hand and grips his cock so hard he hisses. Doesn’t draw it out, just fucks into his fist that’s probably still got cuts on it.

He doesn’t give a shit if someone hears him. Might even groan loud on purpose just to piss people off. Uses his imagination more than porn; if he does watch, it’s on a stolen burner phone.

“C’mon, c’mon…fuckin’ christ—”

✦ . TICCI TOBY

Toby is more reserved about it—he watches messy, amateur, kind of affectionate porn. Lots of sloppy make-outs, body worship, praising the partner, overstimulation. He enjoys sensual stuff, things that make him blush and hide his face in his pillow.

If he’s in a bad headspace, he might go to rougher stuff, but usually soft domination is his jam. Usually watches on PornHub under an incognito tab on a busted laptop. So, so secretly is into somnophilia. If a video just so happens to pop up where some helpless, unknowing victim is being manhandled in their sleep, how is he supposed to not watch it?

Jerks off curled up in his room, behind locked doors, maybe even in the bathroom so he can turn the fan on and muffle the sounds. Goes fast at first because he’s anxious about doing it, but if he lets himself relax, he’s all about edging and drawing it out until he’s shaking and breathless. He tries to be quiet, all jerky movements, one hand over his mouth to muffle himself, hips jerking up into his fist. Sometimes finishes so fast he’s embarrassed.

Feels guilty after. Hides his face, sometimes mutters praise or dirty talk to himself under his breath. When he watches porn, it’s on low volume, with headphones, in bed at night.

“Shit…shitshitshit—”

✦ . EYELESS JACK

Jack goes for roleplay kink, no question—nurse outfits, teacher’s in detention, cops and robbers messy shit. Also likes very slow, sensual, bodily exploration energy, the kind of stuff you’d see under breeding tags. It’s unconventional, but he knows what he likes—and that’s slutty costumes.

Sometimes watches monster x human porn because it feels close to home. He oddly really likes animations and porn games, though he won’t specifically seek them out if they’re not there when he pulls up the screen. An X-videos warrior.

He’s drawn to well-filmed videos. He likes when the camera is still and has good angles, when the lighting lets him see everything. He doesn’t mind rougher videos, but definitely has a preference for professionally shot things that obviously have work put into them.

Jerks off in his own lab in the basement, behind a locked door, late at night when nobody will hear. Methodical, slow, almost detached—he analyzes the porn, then lets his own urges finally push through. Strokes himself easy at first, then fast, breath ragged, sometimes flexing his claws so he doesn’t break the equipment.

“Focus…nngh, dammit—”

✦ . MASKY (TIM WRIGHT)

Masky likes older, more traditional style porn—think 90s or 2000s grainy videos with passionate “cheating wife” scenarios where everyone is bad at acting. It’s so ‘old man’, but he definitely has porn dvds he puts into a laptop because that’s what he likes best.

He likes narratives, where someone is seduced or corrupted. Even though it’s usual for people to skip the first 5 minutes of a video to get into the sex, Masky will watch the entire plot/backstory because he likes the buildup. Is also way into breathplay and bondage themes, but only if they look authentic.

Pretends he doesn’t watch it but definitely does. There’s only so many times you can jerk off while staring at your ceiling, entertainment is nice. Will absolutely never admit it, though. Sees it as a weakness or something to used against him.

Jerks off in his bed, under blankets, late at night so nobody hears and his hard-on refuses to go down. You’d think he’s pissed with the way he grumbles as he shoves his boxers down. Slow, deliberate strokes, edging himself for way too long, eyes locked on the screen. Probably switches tabs constantly, looking for just the right scene. Mutters curses, controls his breathing, but ends up biting his knuckles and groaning so loud.

“Fuck—don’t you dare stop. Don’t—”

✦ . HOODIE (BRIAN THOMAS)

Hoodie prefers audio porn or written erotica over videos. He finds those ASMR audio role plays on YouTube so hot. Visuals sometimes freak him out, but if he can listen to someone getting their face fucked, it’s good for him. Is still a pretty big smut fan, though.

Softcore at first, then harder. Likes a build-up—plot-based, with powerplay or manipulation themes. Often watches “reluctant but consenting” audio role plays where it’s an experienced and inexperienced duo.

Soft dominance, praise kink, telling the partner what to do—he likes the mental aspect more than the visuals. He likes to hear the noises, imagine the positions, sometimes even be instructed or copy what they sound like they’re doing. If he watches a video, it’s usually gentle rough sex with lots of aftercare and talking throughout.

Jerks off at his desk, headphones on, locked door, usually after a stressful mission. He’s methodical and precise, timing himself with the audio, palms himself through his boxers for a while before pulling them down. Lots of controlled sighs, clenched jaw, doesn’t even mess up his hair.

“God… just like that.”

✦ . KATE THE CHASER

Kate watches porn that has a focus on stamina, chase, or hunting roleplay. Likes sweaty, physically intense sex, with a partner struggling to keep up. She’s all about predator x prey scenarios or forced domination situations.

Likes when it’s nicely filmed. Doesn’t have to be professional, but she does like to know what’s going on. If there’s bad acting or too much plot, she’ll turn it off. Just give her the raunchy porn. Mainly watches on random websites that host videos PornHub refuses to.

Also into pinning down/being pinned—wrestling turned sexual. If it’s filmed in the woods, she’s clicking it immediately. Also enjoys consensual non consent, the feral kind that has people crying and begging to stop. It scratches an itch in her.

Jerks of after a workout, still sweaty, in her room with a locked door while her heart is still racing. Almost treats it like a challenge, tests how long she can hold out. Grinds on her hand, pulls at her own nipples, flexes through the orgasm, bites her lips to stay quiet.

“Fuuuck—keep going…”

✦ . BEN DROWNED

You saw this coming… Animated hentai, glitchy edits, pixel video game porn loops. He’s obsessed with corrupted or modded video-game characters—pixelated girls, bugged-out facial animations, borderline uncanny valley shit.

Whatever game he’s into at the moment, he’ll crawl onto Twitter and look at crisp animations of the main character’s that people have animated to do heinous shit. Overwatch porn is his go-to, but also really enjoys Final Fantasy loops.

He likes unconventional scenarios, things that you definitely couldn’t get away with irl. On the train, at the beach, in a dressing room. He likes risky stuff that makes him feel anxious.

Jerks off inside a PC tower he’s possessing, or any screen, really. No physical body needed, but if he does “manifest,” he’ll messily get off with one hand while spamming the rewind function, repeating the climax loop again and again.

“Mhmm… Fuck, that’s hot.””

✦ . CLOCKWORK

Loves switchy porn—sometimes she wants to be dom, sometimes bratty sub. Lots of mutual teasing, orgasm denial, control battles. If there’s a fight that leads to sex video, she’s watched it. Watches on PornHub from fairly popular self-ran accounts. She has a few channels she goes back to, watching when they come out with new videos.

Big on femdom content with a twist of pain play. She likes to see women absolutely wrecking men and sucking through soul through their dick while they can do nothing about it. Otherwise, she’s big on pegging. Likes to watch people fall apart when getting dicked down for the first time.

Loves when there’s lots of talking. If the top is blabbing on and on about how good the bottom is being, she’s biting her lip so hard.

Jerks off right in bed, phone propped on her chest, no shame. Bratty about it, starts and stops, teasing herself with two fingers, then goes rough with a toy. Talks to the video like she’s in it. Moans openly because she knows she can.

“Yeah? You think you can that? Oh, fuuuck—”

✦ . NINA THE KILLER

Nina watches really mushy, romance-heavy porn. Boyfriend-girlfriend homemade videos, praising, body worship, slow undressing, cheesy music. Enjoys watching people lose their virginity or have sex for the first time, it’s so hot to her.

If she watches rough stuff, she likes seeing a hot stalker character break into someone’s house and fuck them (*eyeroll*). Usually just sticks to the homemade side of PornHub where the camera is shaky and the lighting is bad, but you can tell that it’s real and genuine and she likes to see people feel good.

If she tends to click on videos where the top has longer black hair, that’s her own business. She likes faceless videos, just angles from the neck down so she can imagine it’s her being fucked and not some lucky bottom getting their shit pounded.

Jerks off in her own pink-patterned sheets, door bolted, headphones in her phone. It’s not that she’s inherently embarrassed, she just likes her privacy about it. Breathless and quick, lots of fingers circling over her clit, sometimes rubs against a pillow if she’s especially desperate. Giggly and whimpery, praising herself out loud.

“Mmh, so pretty…so good, Nina…”

✦ . HOMICIDAL LIU

Liu likes soft, affectionate porn—especially “reunion after separation” type plots. He goes for raw, messy, extremely intimate porn, the kind that feels personal—homemade amateur videos, a bit rough around the edges, with real moaning and close-up, handheld shots. X-videos always seems to have what he’s looking for.

(This may be touchy): If he watches rougher content, it’s about slightly taboo family-role scenarios (stepsibling or stepparent) with a strong sense of corruption. It gives him a horrible pit in his gut, but he just can’t stop clicking on the videos when they pop up. There’s just something so arousing to him about being manipulated by someone close to you he gets off to.

He’s kind of vanilla deep down, but likes to watch a bit of biting or scratching. He won’t watch porn while he masturbates, but instead chooses to watch it to get himself pent up, barely rubbing himself through his pants before shutting turning off his phone and leaving to handle it.

Jerks off in the shower, so no one hears him. Slow, quiet, hunched over, trying to keep himself grounded. Cups his balls, strokes himself steady, sometimes chokes himself on purpose against the water spray. Cleans up instantly afterward to bury the guilt.

“Fuck— I shouldn’t— I’m sorry—”

✦ . JANE EVERLASTING

Jane is very picky; she likes femdom, high-quality, artistic porn. Strong women, power reversal, worshipping themes. If there is a man on his knees begging to even be touched, she’s sooo getting off on that.

She cannot stand fake-sounding moaning or over-the-top acting, it has to look real. Ethical feminist themes with very loving but rough partners. Adores videos where women are worshipped like goddesses and they are the dominant ones. Watches on her laptop with the volume very high because she loves to hear every whine and moan.

Jerks off with candles lit, clean sheets, a vibrator with multiple settings. She’s very ritualistic about it. She has the same 5 PornHub channels that she rewatches her favorite videos on. Moans confidently, never ashamed. Treats porn like a reward for surviving the week.

Toys only, fingers aren’t enough for her. Switches settings a lot, breathing deeply, praising herself. Likes to moan loud, powerful, almost a challenge to the world. She’ll grope her own tits and roll her nipples until she’s breathless and sensitive.

“Yes. Just like that. Perfect— fuckkk…”

✦ . X-VIRUS

Cody’s into corruption or “bad girl/boy gets the attitude fucked out of them” kinks—fixing the other person or being their only weakness. He likes when someone is a brat and the only way to remedy their loud mouth is by occupying it with dick.

Likes when it’s a third-person video. Like two people are going at it and a third is walking around them giving all the angles and shots of two people just fucking each other. Can’t stand when the bottom gets too loud, it’s all annoying to him. PornHub is where he goes because it has the most and is easily available.

Also watches choking/breathplay and role reversals. He likes when the bottom passes out from lack of air, the video turning into a free-use situation. Occasionally dips into monster porn because he relates to “outsider” themes.

Jerks off at his desk chair, door locked, porn on the biggest monitor possible. Rough, fast, doesn’t waste time. Sometimes talks to the screen, filthy talk, praising or humiliating the actors. Might cum twice if he’s feeling wild.

“Yeah, take it—fucking take it—”

꩜ .ᐟ

[cozymochi]

Hi there! I like your oc Tia 😊 she's so cool! I was curious how does she get along Leona? Especially in book 2? Just curious 🤔

(Thank you 😳 I have a more generalized scenario of their dynamic written out here.) Gonna have to forego Book 2 because… Leona doesn’t really engage with the Prefect that much in it. So, that more or less applies to Tia too. BUT! Book 3??

BOOK 3.. has so much. They were roommates for 3 days and 2 nights. LISTEN— Two ideologically opposed, obstinate, people stuck sharing a room? It writes itself.

Now Tia has to cook for him and take up all of Ruggie’s old duties during the 3-day stint all while having to fulfill Azul’s contract to get her dorm back? Crazy work.

It was the worst setup for both of them. I can’t even properly articulate all the thoughts I had about it, so incoherent yapping it is.

I don’t think Leona would have denied her room and board on principle (cough, she’s still a lady) nor make it a trial, HOWEVER! That doesn’t mean she’s just going to sit around, take his bed (she slept on the couch) and be coddled while dealing with this Azul thing. She’s getting put to work. It doesn’t matter who you are, you aren’t staying in Savanaclaw and doing nothing.

Like the usual scenario for the prefect, Tia apparently takes over Ruggie’s job of being Leona’s gopher during those 3 homeless days. I kinda wish we saw more of that, but I get narrative priorities and wanting to stay on track. [book 7 has entered the chat]

I believe… for the most part, Tia took over Ruggie’s job while rooming with Leona in stride. Mostly because when she does anything, she tries putting maximum effort into it. His room is not ideal, so she’s already cleaning and organizing from the jump. High key, working on something is how she functions since relaxing is hard for her point blank. Leona doesn’t really get that but, it’s whatever.

Her cooking? 100/10, he gets the best meat ever. Well. For an herbivore anyway. (…Can’t let that ego get too big right)

And you know what was glossed over during this time? The fact not even housewardens get a private bathroom. So somebody 🦁 is going to have to 🦁do escort missions 🦁 Nobody is allowed in when she’s in there using the shower. Just something very annoying for him to be stuck doing 💚😔 Oh also she gets up at like! 5AM!!

AnD SHE WON’T LeT him go back to sleep after that! She just will yap about the state of his room and seems to be bothered by every little thing that crosses her mind. Ruggie found it funny as hell at least. Surprised she got Leona up at all but hey, less work for him for once.

It’s fine though. Leona gets his payback tenfold by having her run around like a panicked gazelle during morning training. It’s very cathartic to see. That- and he makes sure his food requests are very dense and luxurious. What? She can’t live with herself if she doesn’t put in maximum effort all the time ☺️ It should never be a problem for her. Who kindly is letting her stay in Savanaclaw again? Who clears out the bathroom for her? He just does so much.

[Immediately ruins the room she just organized and has her running head first into Azul junk via omitting words just so he can be smug about it later]

…She gets him back again later by denying him sleep not by yelling — but purely from listing all her grievances that she had the entire time she was living with him. She had a lot to criticize. …This whole duping Azul plan she made worked great, not only did Leona get roped into it, but she also got to vent. :3

Leona was right. Azul wouldn’t know real villainy if it hit him. Tia is more of a villain than he ever could be. In more ways than just outsmarting his dumb contract thing.

He would never want to share a room with her again <3

I got my jokes and only yapped about the pain on a very bare bones level, but if time was ever dedicated to downtime moments—- I do think Tia would have voiced being grateful in an earnest way despite it all, even while staying there and under a lot of stress from various sources.

I’m not too certain how receptive Leona would be to it. Probably outwardly dismissive. Yet…

anyway everything’s still pretty cool with Leona after all that Book 3 stuff I guess.

BYE!!!!

[pxpecxdy]

A few thots about Andrew this morning.

• Andrew and reader having missionary sex for the first time after they have their first baby. The slow intimacy of relearning each others bodies. Both of their hands fingers threaded above their head while Andrew smiles down at them. Talking to one another barely above a whisper.

“Hey”

“Hey yourself”

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah baby you feel so good”

His hips stutter slightly and they giggle and their eyes soften.

“You okay?” He’s concerned.

“Yeah, I just… I really love you, Andrew.”

His hips slow to an inconsistent pulse and he puts his entire being into kissing them. It starts hungry and needy but softens to feather light kisses that drag on forever. When he breaks away to lean his forehead against theirs he gasps out;

“I really love you, too.”

Because everything has to be so intense with him and it’s not like they haven’t told him a millions times over. It’s not like he hasn’t choked it out as he came inside them.

• Andrew has a bad day and the two of them have already cuddled up in bed, but even with them in his arms his mind is stormy. He’s not really in those memories but he’s not really there with them either. They’re tethering him in a precarious limbo between then and now. He’s trying to be present but he’s exhausted. They turn over to face him in the dark. He’s partially profiled by the scattered moonlight coming in the window behind him. They reach up and softly stroke the furrow in his brow with their fingers, heart breaking at the flinch when his brain registered their hand and then leaning into their touch. They stroke his hair, fingers dipping gently into his curls to de tangle them before scratching lovingly at his scalp. They just stare at each other as this continues down his body. A tiny tug at his ear, knuckles brushing a scruffy jaw, light touches along a vein in his neck, pinching firmly at his traps to ease the tension locked in them, flat palms down his heaving chest, down his stomach. There it was. He was hard and leaking. A lot. His eye contact is unwavering as they pull him out of his pants unceremoniously and begin to stroke him. They wet their hand with their tongue, tasting the salt of his precum on their palm. They’re quick and efficient, knowing exactly how to take care of him. Have him exactly what he needed. He’s right there and he’s right there with them. He finishes in their mouth for practicality more than anything. They didn’t want to have to clean up more than absolutely necessary after a long day. Cleanup that would mean disturbing his post coital bliss. Instead they kiss his cheek lovingly and hop up to escape to the bathroom before Andrew came back to himself enough to reach for their underwear in return. They quickly swish some mouthwash, wipe away their own arousal, and grab a baby wipe for him. They return and almost reverently clean him up before returning to bed. They slide in behind him on his side of the bed instead of their own. Andrew tenses, confused, tries to turn around to look at them but they wrap themselves around him, making him the little spoon. Chin on his shoulder they tell him it’s okay, just wanna hold you. He’s so still for several minutes, but they’re patient. Slowly the rigidity in his body begins to soften and they resume light touches on the marks on his skin. Freckles, scars, changes in the pigment from sun exposure. He was so beautiful. Normally they might offer a distraction, tell him stories or ask him questions about things he was interested in. Not tonight. They were both far too tired to talk but how could they possibly go to sleep knowing he was struggling like that? So they hold him, grounding him in touch, until he slips into sleep deep enough to draw a soft snore where his face was smushed against his arm.

• Andrew can’t really do baby talk. He doesn’t really get it. Holding their little girl in his arms alone for the first time while they sleep, he’s terrified of scaring her. His voice is so soft and raspy as he talks to her. Most people would describe talking to pope like pulling teeth. Everything feels like an argument or a confrontation when he’s in defense mode. Here in the quiet warmth of their home he can be soft. Hard edges still there, but they’re aren’t jagged and sharp anymore. Dulled from the constant movement of them against those aching parts until it didn’t hurt anymore. Not like that. So he’s not so much scared of hurting that fragile little life in his arms anymore, but he’s scared of being scary. Of making her feel unsafe, even if he knows on a cellular level that he could never, ever hurt her and continue living. He tells her stories about their life together and about his family, only the good ones. She doesn’t need the rest of it, not yet. Maybe not ever. He takes his shirt off to be close to her. The doctors at the hospital said it was important. He understood why without having words for it. The tiny life perched on his chest like it was the safest place in the world shattered something inside him. He sat in the rocking chair with her in the nursery, angled so he could see through open doorways where his partner slept. Close enough to be at their side the moment they might need something but far enough away that he could ramble alone at his new, second, best friend.

Hun, I'm so sorry for not adding onto this but all of it has melted my brain!!! I'm truly obsessed with each one. Everything is so soft. I'll be honest I'm not a fan of baby talk, it's okay to coo every now and then but I believe it's better for their development. There's this girl I follow on tiktok who narrates her day and plans to her baby and it brings me so much joy. Also, the scene where Pope is talking to Lena about wolves and how they're far away in Wyoming!!!!! Ugh just all of it is great!! I seriously love all of this and I've been thinking about this ask all day at work

[charmac]

i’ve been thinking a lot about seasons 8 and up and i’m pretty sure that the first time dennis says he hates mac is during ‘mac day,’ even though he literally serenaded him only 6 eps earlier in tgdo and bought a house in florida w him the ep before. i saw someone say that dennis fell first but mac fell harder but too late, so basically my theory is that dennis tried to make some kind of move on mac after tgdo but mac was too obtuse/repressed to catch on. then in ‘mac day’ dennis realized that the repression ran so deep that there was no point in even trying anymore, thus resulting in him saying he hates mac

I see where you're coming from, one of the biggest tragedies of Mac and Dennis' relationship is the timing of it all, but that's not the entirety of it.

Dennis very clearly fell first and Mac fell harder (honestly I think anyone who can't see that isn't watching the show properly, lmfao), but I don't agree with the "too late" aspect being the reason why Dennis begins to resent Mac (or that it's because Mac was sexually repressed for so long and that prolonged delay in ~something happening~ ruined them in some way). Leaving the tragedy just down to timing kinda puts Mac and Dennis on an inherent equal ground, which fails to acknowledge Mac and Dennis as individuals with screwy understandings of (and interests in) sex and love...

IMO Dennis would [have] be[en] content maintaining their relationship as it was in the early days, teetering on the line of bromance and homoerotic, as long as it was mutually understood (and a little sacred) between them… It’s clear in MADBU that Dennis doesn't mind how Mac acts in their relationship, he enjoys (if not needs) the deeply emotional dependency…what he's put off by is Dee pointing out how visibly queer they are, defining his relationship without his say (and imo prior to he himself fully recognising it). And the end of MADBU exhibits this quite clearly: once he sits down and faces the facts with Mac, he accepts what their relationship is, even if it's revealing something about himself (and with the cut "beautiful lips" line, it's clear Glenn was playing it with a little “shit.” intended).

The very next episode being The D.E.N.N.I.S. System highlights a beautiful dichotomy that exists with Dennis: he gets off sexually via manipulation, building up a false narrative and feeling the power trip that comes with it, and has little to no interest in connecting emotionally with a woman (in fact, pulling emotions (or even names) into sex ruins it for him)…

Many seasons down the line, we get the truth of what Season 5 established, in a claimed lie “I sleep with women, but I'm emotionally involved with Mac.”

And that being understood makes it hard for me to see this theory as potentially true. I don’t think Dennis’ resentment of Mac was born from an off-screen physical move that Mac rejected in Season 8, but more so grew due to what we did see in Season 8 — Mac trying to make a physical move, which Dennis rejected (and the constant development of Mac not understanding what love is, alongside that).

The majority of S8 Dennis is clearly manic, pursuing as much pleasure as he possibly can and holding himself above the Gang (more than he really has before). In Back in Business, he wants Mac to feel the thrills he feels (mostly sexually) along side him. Charlie Rules the World reestablishes that the two of them are watching Dennis’ tapes together (and Dennis is performing for the camera in them). But in all of these, Mac is a player in Dennis’ games, not the target. The culmination of all of this behaviour leads to the reveal of their monthly dinners… in contrast to the borderline sociopathic way Dennis treats sex the entire season, the month always ends with Mac, in a romantic sense, at face value. (In fact, Dennis really states that this is what their relationship has been, as far back as high school, in his speech—Mac is there. He gives him the “courage” to perform sexually.)

Once you get to Season 9 and Mac’s denial is driving the majority of his thoughts and actions, Dennis grows resentful of him because it’s ruining the dynamic they have. In Mac Day, he gets to see what Mac could be if he wasn’t denying his reality — a [Country] Mac who makes decisions for himself and shares his interests at face value, not as something that should be unique to him and only prop him up. It becomes clear that Mac treats things without regard for anyone’s interests other than his own — pleasure seeking above all else to the point of denying the existence of anything that doesn’t serve him. And yes, the entire Gang do this to various (major) degrees, of course, lmfao, but it’s an issue for Dennis because Mac is now doing it with his homosexuality, and that directly impacts what Dennis has built between them. Their relationship is no longer a codependent, queer bond (that may breech sexual boundaries on specific occasion, when Dennis allows it), it’s now a pleasure seeking opportunity for Mac. And Mac immediately begins to chase that for himself, with no regard as to how Dennis feels about it. Mac's reasoning chugs along the idea of Dennis’ “default willingness” due to the fact that Dennis keeps involving him in all his sex systems and schemes, he and Dennis have something clearly romantic/sexual together, and Dennis loves him… in effect he should get to take this all the way.

So by Seasons 13 and 14, we can see where this put them: Dennis’ peak resentment/hatred of Mac at the height of Mac’s predatory sexual advances toward Dennis… But by Season 16, we end up with this “beautiful” compromise (after Mac’s diligent efforts to get over Dennis before/in S15, good job, Mac) where they have their codependent homoerotic relationship back without Mac’s relentless pursuit for sex… because they’re both getting off in a devoid of names and feelings (well) sex scheme.

So I wonder again… what the hell are we about to walk in to for their relationship this season... I guess I'll get an idea in a few hours 0.0

[4doras]

YOU'RE MY TROPHY "THE WAY THEY LOOKED AT ME MADE ME FORGET WHAT I WAS SAYING." *ੈ✩‧₊˚

genre. idol.maki x idol.reader, fluff, 1.1k

ꕤ. first maki fic >< thank you anon for requesting ♡ btw daechinso is that backstage interview on mcd with jaehyun and hanbin

you were backstage of mcountdown, about to do your interview with jaehyun and hanbin when you saw maki and nicholas. 

before the broadcast started, you tapped yunah on the shoulder, unsure if you guys were at the right spot. “are we supposed to be here? why’re other groups here too?” you could've sworn that your interview was today.  

more under the cut!

“didn’t they tell you? we’re doing a combined one this time.” no one told you a thing, all they said was that you had daechinso and that was it. “come, we have to be there soon.” she pulled your arm closer to the set. 

of course, you didn’t dislike either of them, but you weren’t prepared to be in the same room as maki. 

you’d known maki since the show that you both performed at last winter, where he somehow ended up stealing half your fries and then acting like you owed him an apology. you weren’t close per se, but you weren’t strangers either. the two of you were friendly enough to throw banter across a hallway, and maybe hold eye contact a little longer than necessary. 

and while all of that happened, you found yourself enjoying his presence in a way that was more than friendly. 

seeing him again wasn’t a surprise. but being stuck in the same room for a full hour on live broadcast? the future of your career flashed before your eyes. 

when you looked around the room, your eyes just so happened to land on maki. but it wasn’t long before you’re brought back to reality by yunah. 

“y/n, stop staring. if people catch you doing that, you’re getting into a scandal.” she whisper-shouted, warning you of what was coming. but it wasn’t your fault. he was the one wearing a jacket that looks like it was made just for him. “look, i know you think he’s hot or whatever, but you cannot be caught looking at him with those heart eyes.” 

all the crew slowly came into the room, and before you knew it, the red lights that read “LIVE BROADCAST” were glowing. 

the start went perfectly, you introduced your group and your recent comeback, and andteam did the same, but then they started asking questions about personal interests and that's when you knew it was over. 

“y/n, we heard that you actually like andteam a lot!” hanbin announced, glancing at you before turning to where nicholas and maki sat across the room. you didn’t need someone to tell you that your face was getting red, you could feel the red rushing to your head. 

you tried your best to keep away from the question, but this one was inevitable. as long as you played it cool, you could get out of this unscathed. 

“yeah, i’ve liked them since last year's winter performance.” you replayed your words in your head, thinking back to what you said to make sure you didn’t say anything dumb. 

“oh really?” nicholas leaned forward with interest. “who’s your favourite?” 

you looked at yunah before answering, hesitating to tell them the truth. “actually, maki is my bias.” immediately after answering, you hid your face in yunah’s shoulder. 

“did the producers set this up?” hanbin looked at the crew, face as shocked as everyone else. “makiii!” jaehyun dragged out his name in a sing-song voice. “you better thank y/n personally now.” he giggled at the coincidence. 

“thanks for picking me even if i took your food during the performance last winter.” maki said, dramatically putting his hand on his heart. “i’ll work extra hard to impress you now.” 

yunah nudged you, reminding you that you had to speak. “say something.” you opened your mouth, ready to say something – anything – but nothing came out. he was still looking at you. maki was still looking at you. your mind was a blank slate. no words, no thoughts, just him. 

your brain was busy trying to come up with a sentence. you needed to say something, anything. anything normal, that was. 

“haha… thanks,” you said, though it came out more like a squeak than anything else.

a beat of silence.

“that’s it?” hanbin asked, completely scandalized. “your bias swore to impress you for life and you hit him with a thanks?” jaehyun added, more distraught than maki himself. 

“let y/n breathe!” yunah said, laughing. “you guys are evil.” 

eventually, the teasing settled. the producers called for the next segment, giving everyone time to reset. but before you could escape, maki caught you before you turned away. 

“wait,” he said, still catching up to you. “did i push it too far? with the impressing stuff?” 

you shook your head quickly. “i mean, kinda, yeah. but it wasn’t bad kind of embarrassed” after all, it definitely could've been worse. 

he let out a breathy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “so you really meant it, huh?” he took the hint, from your furrowed brows, you didn’t know what he was talking about. “what you said during the interview,” maki clarified. “that i’m your bias.”

“yeah,” you thought for a moment, “is that weird for you?” was it weird that your favourite member was the one you were closest to? 

“oh, no, don’t worry.” he paused before continuing. “hey, after that winter performance, i started noticing things. like how you always avoid looking at me, or how you remember random stuff i say and bring it up weeks later.” 

a puzzled expression crossed your face. “what’re you trying to say?” 

he shook his head, “forget it,” now he was looking right at you. “i like you, y/n.” he added, a bit quieter this time, “you don’t have to say anything. i just… wanted you to know.” 

you stared at him, heart racing like you were still on camera. but no one was around, it was just you and maki, the maki who you spent the week with while rehearsing the show last year. 

“i wasn’t planning on telling you, but since you did – i like you too, maki.” 

“really?” his eyes widened slightly, for only a second, before a grin broke across his face. 

“mhm,” you nodded your head. 

and for once, you and maki had a serious moment, the type of ones that were in books. 

“good luck on your performance later,” he smiled, “i hope you win.” he held your face in his hands. it was sudden, no warning, no pause to ask – just the press of his lips against yours. 

even if you didn’t win the trophy, you won maki’s heart, and that was worth more than any trophy.

perm taglist. @jellyouse

[kings-highway]

I don't tend to talk a lot about my sexuality headcanons because I like to adjust things as I need for each story, but in honour of the end of pride month and the fact that I put off doing this for 30 full June days, I do want to talk about some of my favourite lgbt related headcanons for my HQ boys. A lot of these are "real" headcanons of mine (as in, stuff I actually write as a part of their character rather than just theoretically interesting asides) so you might recognize these if you've read my work!

This isn't going to be every character, just ones I have strong or specific takes on.

Starting off strong, I love Daichi being a completely unlabeled king. To decide on a label requires .05% introspection and by god he is not going to do that. I think his perspective on it is very "only what's in front of me matters" so when he feels attraction to a man for the first time he doesnt think this means he's attracted to ALL men, just this one. And in reverse, although he feels attraction to women, he doesn't think at any point his current attraction to women will stop him from falling in love with any non-women, so it never occurs to him that his feelings of attraction could even point to any one label because literally what does today have to do with tomorrow? He's just here. Asahi tries to suggest pansexual as a label when he tries to explain how he's simply open to whatever his heart wants and he gets mad because "i said ANY person not ALL people" and Asahi's like WHAT does that MEAN. All that being said, I think Daichi never considers himself queer/lgbt. Dude could be in a committed monogamous relationship with another man for ten years and when Suga suggests they go to a pride festival he's like "???for what???" All in all I think he's allergic to labels on his sexuality.

Related note, Asahi being asexual. I don't think Asahi is sex-repulsed at all, and later in life I think he definitely would enjoy being sexually active with a partner, but definitely when it comes to self identification, he simply does not feel attraction towards any gender. I also think he doesn't really crave physical intimacy even non-sexually, and he'd much rather talk through his feelings with someone rather than have them hug him to try and comfort him, so he really struggles to understand the kissing-sex thing even just from a theoretical pov. (Like why would you pick that over like a nice long heart-to-heart???) However I think this has to be coupled with like a panromantic attraction to all genders which makes him have a really hard time identifying what he actually wants and what will make him happy because there's a very uniform experience across people, which for someone so anxious already doesnt help him identify his own feelings at all. He probably very much struggles to relate to his classmates as they get excited for dating because even though he likes the idea of dating everyone always talks about dating as kissing and physical intimacy (because they're all like 17) and Asahi's like "sure, sure, sure, yeah, totally sure yeah" while just being fully checked out of the conversation

Ushijima! I fully believe that Ushijima is 100% gay, with no flexibility, but I also think he most identifies his own feelings via the negative, so he knows he doesn't experience sexual attraction towards women and mostly identifies via that, rather than acknowledging that he does feel attraction to men. I really like him answering questions this way, where if someone is asking about girls/his love life, he often replies with "I don't feel inclined towards women," or "I have no interest in finding a girlfriend/wife" which is, in his mind, the most true statement in regards to his sexuality. He almost NEVER out loud says anything about liking men or feeling attracted to men even though his crush/dating history is exclusively male. However, on the few occasions someone does directly ask him something like "so you're gay?" he will absolutely say yes. Like he is aware of what his feelings classify him as he just doesn't leap to those descriptors himself. I think part of the reason for this is that he's not really attracted to femininity in general, and he knows that femininity is not exclusive to women and that some men are not his type, so there's a part of his brain that thinks saying something like "I'm attracted to men" indicates ALL men (its that black and white autism brain clicking into gear) and that's simply not true, but saying he's not interested in women IS true in black and white autism land.

I don't have a fully formed thought on this one, but Tendou's gender is probably a little broken, right? I actually do think he still identifies as male, but I think if he had been born afab, he'd have been perfectly comfortable being a woman and identified as such. So maybe he's lightly agender but socially comfortable with being a man so he doesn't really bother with it. I do however think he doesn't "get" the whole gender thing. He probably thinks he's enlightened or something because he's so above being bothered by it all and he simply doesn't realize that's because he's agender and everyone else actually does feel a real connection to their gender they're not just making it up. This whole headcanon is mostly in service of that fact that I think Tendou with his sort of conventionally unattractive features would absolutely rock gender non-conforming fashion. Like put him in a long skirt and combat boots please. I don't think he has an ounce of femininity in him but there's something about the spiky red hair and monster gaze that goes so well with like... Female-tilted alt fashion. And I think he would dig that. And then get mad when people point out he's wearing women's clothes because "ugh literally why does anyone care about gender you're all so weird." (Proceeds to do zero self reflection). He just does what he wants.

This isn't a real headcanon of mine but I heavily support a FtM trans Kenma based solely on his calico cat mascot. He's based on a calico, guys, its right there!

Aromantic Kuroo. (+QPR KuroKen) I don't use this as much as I could, because it's a lot of emotional character work that I dont often want to bother with in unrelated stories, but AroAce Kuroo has become so near and dear to my heart. He wants so badly to spend his whole life monogamous with Kenma but every time he thinks about starting a romantic relationship with him he feels sick because he doesn't actually want to share space and kiss and have to sleep in the same bed all the time. I think it's sex-positive asexual but borderline romance-repulsed aromantic. He just wants to live his life, and he does see Kenma as his highest priority and life partner in the most true sense of the word "partner". He still gets unreasonably jealous if Kenma has any other love interests but thats because allonormativity threatens to take away his soulmate every day. I don't use this headcanon very often, but more and more I do think it fits his character. A really solitary, independent and self possessed person who simply cannot comprehend why anyone needs a lover to feel fulfilled. Kenma meanwhile absolutely would love a life partner that does not require him to leave the house for dates or do any kind of performative relationship shit. His twitch stream being like "oh my god kodzuken are you dating anyone???" And Kenma just replying with "not legally" is actually really fucking good.

Okay so I only did 5 characters but im lazy and dont wanna keep writing so imma click post now k thx bai

[tashacee]

Hey what would happen if instead of the Hero's Aspect, Wild got stuck in the Toon Link mask?

Oh boy oh man i’m pretty sure you sent me this on new years eve sorry for answering uuuuuuuuuuh seven months late oh man oh man

ASPECTS OF A TOON

Well this was embarrassing.

Listen.

Link had a bunch of weird and wonderful magical outfits. He had ones that made him stronger. Ones that made him faster. He had ones that made his attacks shoot lightning, and that was just cool. He had ones that made him look like ancient beasts, ones that made him look like his own dark reflection. He even had one that draped him in the soul of a long dead, very cat-like hero.

And frankly. Of all of the outfits he could have gotten stuck in, he would have preferred any of those to what had happened today.

This was just.

It was just embarrassing.

So here’s what happened. Link had been minding his own business, taking a nice morning stroll along East Akkala Beach and killing a few lizalfos, when he’d thought that he saw someone he knew. And, being the generalised menace that he was, instead of going to say hello like a normal fucking person, he’d decided to sneak up and scare them.

In.

Well.

The dumbest ding dang mask that he owned.

He didn’t know anything about the Hero it was supposed to resemble. The inscription said the Hero visited an island but couldn’t leave, and that the mask made people want to wear it but. Not? Wear it?

Which made no sense.

Maybe the Hero was a goofy kinda guy who liked hijinks and that was why his mask was like that. Maybe it had been a costume from some sort of Hero Festival. Maybe he was just an asshole and someone made it to laugh at him.

Link didn’t know. He didn’t care. What mattered was that he had this dumb goofy mask and it was really funny to sneak up on people in, especially with how mad its little face was.

What he hadn’t banked on was, as soon as he put the dumb thing on, the world falling out from under his feet. It was like everything around him collapsed in on itself, and for a few seconds there was nothing, and then-

He was in an unfamiliar woodland, in an unfamiliar place, and something innate within him told him that this was a different world.

Weird.

So Link had done what any sensible person would do and had tried to take the goofy, giant mask off.

And. It had not come off.

The head hole was kinda tight and there was a knack to it, and it seemed the release mechanism had jammed and-

Oh, korok nuts.

He was stuck.

So he’d set on his way, mortified, in search of fresh water, a survival essential, and a way out of this dumb mask.

The forest seemed largely safe, at least. No big animals, no monsters, just the occasional low hanging branch for him to bonk his stupid mask on. And then, maybe half an hour after arriving in this foreign place, he’d seen a flash of colour in the trees and a voice call

“Yo, what the heck? Someone open a theme park round here?”

Oh great. He’d been spotted.

So, unable to muster even the slightest vestige of a swagger, Wild had slunk in the direction of the voice. If there were people there, then there was likely a safe camp, and hopefully someone who could get him out of this awful mask.

…

……

………

But man. Link had been prepared for a lot of things. He had been prepared to be embarrassed. He had been prepared to come up with a dumb story. He had been prepared to take pictures and laugh about it.

He had not expected to run into a group of Heroes from across time, all of which shared his soul. No, scratch that, cool Heroes from across time, all of which shared his soul. Cool, serious, well armed, well travelled guys, who were keeping a look out for monsters in a world equally unfamiliar to them-

And here he was, in the mascot head.

It was beyond embarrassing.

Ugh. And the worst thing was, they were all so nice about it, even when it was clear that they were trying very hard not to laugh. Link had at least thought that he’d get away with at least one of them taking him seriously when he met Sky and found out that the guy was blind, but no. No, he could never be that lucky.

Upon hearing that he had what ‘Four’ described as ‘The jankiest damn village-fete mask bobble head I have ever seen’, he had beamed with mischief and thrust his hands forwards. 

And he’d cackled when he felt the mask. Cackled! The indignity of it all! Link was beginning to think that the only chill guy in this whole ‘Chain’ of Links was the pink haired guy, Legend. He, at least, seemed eager to help him get the mask off, which he really appreciated. At least one of them was thoughtful!

Still. It took a while - Link had to make his way back to their main camp and be subjected to everyone seeing his shame before they got it off. In the end they had to use a stick of butter, a counterweight, and several newfound brothers pulling to get it off.

But in the end, they did, and Link - now dubbed Wild - found himself red-faced but free of the worst outfit he’d ever worn.

It was far from the ideal way to meet his new family. Because that was what they were - a family. He loved them. They were wonderful.

But it had been far from ideal. His brothers would never let him forget it, and the ‘big headed’ jokes didn’t seem to be coming to an end any time soon.

Well. Whatever. Wild was going to find out who the dumb mask was supposed to be the head of, and when he did, he would get his own back. He just needed to figure out who… 

It wouldn’t be an easy task. The Chain could be a closed lipped bunch when they needed to be, but at least in this task Wild would not be alone. The others may have laughed at him, but he had one ally at least!

Man. With him and Legend on the case? They’d be unstoppable!

[abbysreal-wife]

Extra Credit

Teacher!Abby x Student!Reader

Video Games

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

— Lana Del Rey

————-————-————-————-————-——

Tags:: Oral, Fingering, age gap (18 and 29–33 smth like that), semi public sex, masturbation, mommy kink, good girl used a bit, praise kink, fat shaming mentioned.

A/N:: I’ve read over this 1million times and it still looks horrific

Little notes!:: ily guys sm, I’ve been encouraged to add smut💔 if it’s ass I’m sorry cause I’m a bit rusty..😥 also, unless the fic REALKY needs the summary, ima stop putting it cause my mind always goes to a blank when I put it there….

Currently playing…

————————————————————————

The bell rang loudly in your ear, causing you to jolt out of your sleep.

Snickering and other loud conversations could be heard from behind you as you attempted to reach your books that were now on the floor.

“Hey tp,— a name that your 3rd grade bully had been dragging since 6th grade cause he toilet papered your house on Halloween “did you get a lot of sleep last night?” A boys voice spoke out to you. You rolled your eyes “yeah actually, you should asked your mom, she knows.” Your clap back cause the blonde boys smile to drop and his friends to laugh and playfully punch his arm.

An array of ‘oo’s and ‘damn’ was spreading across the half empty classroom. You finally stood up and walked towards the door.

Then you were shoved. Not hard enough to knock you to the ground, but hard enough to give you a little fright.

You stumbled into a desk, the sight behind you was almost scary. Jason and all his little football goons towered over you with their broad figures.

“Say something about my mom again. Next time I’ll put my full weight into you. Or at least I’ll try— fatass” he hissed at you, his face was red with frustration.

Him and his friends all shoulder checking you as they walked by to the exit.

“Mr. Smith, can I have a word with you?” A firm voice boomed from the door.

Ms. Anderson was leaning on the door frame her arms flexed under her black dress shirt.

Jason and his friends stopped dead in their tracks.

He laughed nervously turning around to face her “uh, hey Ms.anderson”

She bounced off the door frame and began to walk to you, placing a hand on your shoulder “don’t ‘hey Ms Anderson me’ don’t you have something you want to say to this young lady here?”

Jason sucked his teeth and let out a long sigh “I’m sorry.” He said it in a questioning manner. Like he didn’t mean a word he just said.

“I’ll deal with you later— go now.”

The 3 boys scrambled away and disappeared into the moving hallways.

Ms Anderson on the other hand was making her way to the wooden desk. That had papers and stacks of binders and other items of hers on top of it.

“I came here to discuss your grades with you.” Her words caused you to tense up in your spot.

Grades?

She took out her laptop and begin typing, the keyboard was the only thing keeping this room non silent.

“C’mere” her tone was cold, but demanding. It made your heart flutter.

You took slow steps toward her desk, your converse scooting across the floor,holding your books close to your chest.

Once there you looked at the computer screen.

“Oh” a small noise came out of your mouth.

Ms. Anderson sighed “you’re failing all the classes you have with me, and those classes make up half of your grade. She paused to take a breath and look at you “what’s going on?” She was concerned.

Oh, you knew what was going on.

You were failing her classes cause you would to busy staring at her to understand what she was saying or telling you to study.

And when you did hear her. You tried to study.

You really, really tried to study.

But somehow, someway, you would always ended up trailing your hand down your body, and into your underwear, then played with yourself while thinking of her.

You didn’t mean to. It was an accident.

“Uh, uhm..” you stammered as you rocked back and forth on your feet.

“I don’t know.” Your sentence came out quiter than intended, which cause her to lean into you and try and hear you better “louder sweetheart I can’t hear you”

Oh God.

Clearing your throat and standing up more straight you stated “I don’t know why I’m failing your classes Ms. Anderson.”

She hummed in amusement.

As she stood up she walked past you to go get some papers sitting on the window sill you could smell her aroma of pine cones cinnamon and an outdoorsy hint.

She took the papers and sat them in your hand “take a look at some of your test”

She took her finger and pushed up the middle of her glasses.

Those damn glasses.

Once you put your own books down on a nearby desk you began to slowly scale through the pages.

Drawings of flowers and other plants were the only thing filling the paper.

“Jeez” you silently cursed to your self.

The questions on the other hand? It looks like you spun 5 times and answered them blind folded.

The “A,B, or C” opinion circles or turned into a sun and more flowers.

And when the answer was obvious like ‘B’ you chose ‘A’

“This behavior is honestly childish for a 17 year old” Ms Andersons voice scolded you.

“18, ma’am” you corrected her as you stared down at your feet.

Her eyebrow arched “excuse me?”

“I’m 18, miss, not 17” you were now making eye contact with the woman in front of you.

“Is there anyway I could get any extra credit?”

Ms. Anderson’s face lit up when those words came up.

“Sure there is. You could study, or you could get a tutor. She paused “there’s other ways as well.”

You tilted your head “what do you mean?”

Her mouth twitched into a smirk, the one where you know exactly what she means.

But she would never say anything like that to a student.

Never.

“I’m sure there’s apps and what not, yeah?” She hinted towards your bag which was vibrating from an app notification.

You took a deep shaky breath “I should get going i need to be home at a certain time.”

After what felt like hours you finally stepped aside her and practically ran down the hallway.

ᥫ᭡.——————————————————————

“And that should cover the chapter for now” Ms. Anderson’s voice was muffled, the sun hit down on her like it was made too, and her hair was finally out the braid.

Meaning the golden blonde locks could fall freely down her back and shoulders. Which also meant that even if you wanted to try and pay attention to whatever the hell she was teaching you mentally, physically couldn’t.

Her glances at you was enough so make you and the seat you were sitting on wet.

Then you finally snapped out your trance and faced towards your friend. Your only friend. The only girl that could “understand” what you go through. She used to be like you too, till she got on the volleyball team and erased any image or chance you had of being even noticeable around this school away.

“Ellie” Your voice called out to the auburn haired girl who was talking to another girl she obviously had a crush on.

Ellie’s eyes turned toward you as the other girl also looked at you. Before she soon realized who you were and turned to snicker to her other friends.

You just rolled your eyes in response, you’re used to it now. Being known as the ‘weird one’ in 6th grade really shaped your mentality.

“What’s up?” She made her way to your desk leaning on it, palms face down.

“Who’s the girl?” You hinted towards the dark haired girl who Ellie was flirting with.

She raised an eyebrow glancing back before realizing “oh, you mean Dina? She’s on the cheer team remember?”

Finally, the flashbacks of Dina tripping you in front of your 7th grade girl crush flooded your mind like a tsunami.

You fucking hated her.

Scoffing you picked up pens and pencils sitting on your desk “whatever, can you come to study hall with me?”

You batted your eyelashes like that ever worked on her “hell no, I got volleyball practice at 2.” Her announcement caused you to roll your eyes so far you swear they got stuck for a second.

Then she grabbed her backpack and headed to the door, “I’ll see you tonight!” Dina, Jesse, and some other dark haired girl; you think her name is Kat or something, all followed behind her.

Then the door slammed dramatically.

Leaving you and Ms. Anderson alone.

This was a scenario in your wet dream before.

She was sitting at her desk working on some papers of some sort while you walked to her desk setting your tote bag down.

“So when you said there’s other ways to get extra credit what did you mean?” Your words caused her ears to perk up like a dog and her eyes to drift down your body and back up to your eyes “What’d you think I mean?” She questioned with a smug smile on her face.

Her tie was loosened so it hung off her chest in a tease-full manner.

And she was still looking at you with that look, that look when someone is mentally undressing you but trying to keep it respectful. Yeah, that look.

“Maybe I could… the pause you took was very long “work extra hard for the extra credit?”

Her grin grew larger as she stood up, her figure rising to cover your whole body “what are you trying to imply, [ᥫ᭡.]?” When Your name came out of her mouth it sounded unintentional, like she was trying not to say something she shouldn’t.

Now you two were basically chest to chest.

“What’re you doing to me?” You scoffed looking up at her with some sort of “innocence” behind your eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ms. Anderson”

You were giving her the same treatment she gave you.

Clueless.

A soft kiss was placed upon your lips, the type of kiss you could tell she’d been needing.

She had been holding back.

The kiss felt as if she was pouring every emotion out of her and into your mouth.

Her hand snaked around your nape, Finger tips brushed against the back of your neck, the touch felt like it would be there forever, almost as if it stained your skin.

Gentle moans emerged from you as she pulled your waist in closer to her.

Hands wrapped around her neck, pushing her in closer to your mouth.

Both of you guys heads were moving in an almost synchronized manner.

Before you could pull away to take a breath she spun you around making you take a seat on the desk behind her.

Now your leg was propped up on the wooden drawer handles, soon after, she took that same leg-and wrapped an arm underneath it.

Her other free hand found your breast, then your waist, and then your thigh.

The touch of her hands were warm, it left a trace of unforgettable feelings.

This is actually happening right now.

You should stop it. You really, really should stop this.

You ignored the thoughts, instead you leaned back on the desk, Ms.Anderson chuckled, she was gonna do it herself but a little help never hurt.

“You want this right?” She managed to question between open mouth kisses.

Nodding your head you kinda subtly lifted your hips, the warm sensation between your thighs was getting unbearably uncomfortable.

She pulled away, her glasses were foggy from the gasp of air you were letting out.

“Don’t just nod, I need to hear you say it, verbally” her tone was clear “Yes, yes I do want this.”

She hummed before kissing your neck and then down your body and eventually made it to your core.

Placing small kisses against your hips, your dress was already pulled up because of her smooth hands.

Your underwear was now see through with your own pleasure. She took a sharp breath in, before bringing her thumb up to the soft cotton and rubbing the visible bud.

“Mmfh..” you bit your lip as a noise you didn’t know you could make escape from your mouth.

“I know baby, I know” her praise caused more pleasure to almost gush out of your desperate entrance.

Her thumb pulled away, you pouted at the action whining pathetically “Aw, you want me to touch you?” She teased.

You nodded aggressively “yes, yes I do.”

She huffed at your pleading “say please for me”

“P..Please, please touch me”

A smug grin played over her lips “Please what?”

“Please, mommy?” The word ‘mommy’ came out of your mouth by accident, not she was expecting from a girl like you, she was thinking maybe a ‘daddy’ or her name could’ve worked but, ‘mommy’ sounded better.

It made her feel better.

“Good.. Good girl”

Her hands drifted back down to your underwear, swiping them off in one swell movement.

The cold air of the classroom cause you to tense up in your position.

Without warning she took your cunt and engulfed it fully within the warmth of her mouth.

Her mouth worked in ungodly rhythms, you grabbed her hair tugging and tangling your fingers between the blonde strands.

Eyes fixed on you as your eyes fluttered open and closed.

“You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” Ms Anderson asked before circling her tounge back around your sensitive clit.

Your lips puffed out at her words “yes, mm…”

The slurping and squelching sounds of her working her fingers in and out of you while you clenched filled the room.

“So fuckin’ pretty f’me” her eyes caught your every reaction, the little gasp you would occasionally give when her fingers curled back and forth, the ‘o’ shape your mouth would form.

“Shit, so good..” your words made her mouth move faster, you groaned throwing your head back and taking your hand to cover your mouth.

It didn’t do a great job covering your constant high pitched moans, Ms Anderson pulled away “don’t cover your mouth, I wanna hear your pretty sounds” her sentence was dragged on before she took tongue and ran it flat up your leaking cunt.

Ms. Anderson pushed her fingers onto the spongy surface inside of you that made you cry out her name, well, not really, it was more of a desperate attempt at saying her name but it instead came out as ‘mommy’

“F-fuck, mommy” it was embarrassing, really. But in your mind at that moment, nothing mattered right now.

She smirked against your dripping cunt as she heard her name falling off of your lips.

Her glasses were now foggy,and her nose bumped into your clit. Her knees were now starting to ache from the squatting position she was in. She could care less though. She was to focused on your climax.

“Mm, mommy, m’gonna cum” you’ve never came this quick before, not even on your own, not with previous partners. Never.

Your climax didn’t come in ripples, it came in waves, it washed over you, from your feet, to your legs, all the way up through your chest and neck, then it came out your mouth “god, mommy!”

ᥫ᭡.——————————————————————

“Shit, I totally forget my notebook in Ms. Andersons class” Ellie cursed to herself, “go get it then” Jesse told Ellie who was already gathering her things to head down to the class.

As she walked down the hallways, tiny but muffled moans could be heard throughout.

Ellie just laughed it off, thinking nothing of it, since this school is the kind of type for stuff to happen like that.

She slid her headphones on and started to play her music

Finally she made it to the light blue door the name beside it read “Ms. Anderson Class 5”

Yup, she’s at the right classroom.

She paused the music to brace herself for the conversation she’d have to have with Ms Anderson and explain why she’s bursting in her classroom.

She twisted the doorknob.

The sight she saw, was…

Horrifying.

You, your dress pulled up to your waist, your legs draped over Ms Andersons shoulders and you gripping her head like it was the last thing you’d ever touch.

“Holy shit.”

You snapped your head to the door quickly pulling your dress down and hopping off the desk, Ms Anderson moved quicker than you she was already on her feet wiping your pleasure off her chin.

The door was slam shut in a matter of seconds.

Fuck.

ᥫ᭡.——————————————————————

A/N:: AGIAN, sorry if the smut is kinda bad and confusing I was nervous☺️

@kissedbykhloe @graciedollie @korn-dawg @vyeris @valeisaslut @ellieswife4ever @ellies-moth-to-a-flame @lluxentzz @liliofabby @yokedtablet @elliezlils11utt @andieprincessofpower @abigail-andersons-wife @doodl3wr1t3s @lolitalovess @look-me

(If I forgot you ITS NOT NT DAMN FAULT😕💔)

[rauferes]

Emmrich Volkarin - vaginismus - other ideas

Girlie (gender neutral affectionate) what you got for this one? 🥰

(WIP ask game)

This is one of those situations where I trip and an embarrassing number of pictures fly out of my wallet 😂I've explored a Rook with vaginismus at length in my Healer's Touch series, but uh, that's kind of the tip of the iceberg.

1.

She's been meaning to tell him, she really has. But she's "selfish." She likes his kisses, the cute little dates, being held by him. He gets to the point of a hand down her pants and she's thinking she'll redirect him with a blow job and then tell him after-- and then he's touching her in a way that has her brain leaking out her ears, knees weak. Suddenly two fingers try to slip into her and she yelps. Emmrich is immediately sorry, oh goodness he's so upset he hurt her, is she ok?

This one would feature an Emmrich that has no idea about vaginismus or how to get around it, but very much a Listening And Learning sort of situation. A lot of experimentation that ends up bringing them closer.

2.

Emmrich is surprisingly easy to talk to. (And this Rook is like, so bad at having a verbal filter. ESPECIALLY around a face as pretty as Emmrich's). So one day it just kind of slips out that sex sucks, it always hurts, Rook doesn't see the point in it anymore. Emmrich makes some delicate inquiries, only to be flabbergasted that none of their previous partners had tried nonpenetrative options. "I'm probably not missing much," Rook says, trying to keep the mood light. Emmrich hesitates. "There are plenty of things in life to enjoy in other realms, of course." "...truly? None of them? I'm sure there are many who would be willing to--" "I'm not likely to find them," Rook interrupts. "Best not to think too hard about the things you can't have." "Would you like to? Experience it?" "I mean, sure, but nobody--" "I would," Emmrich says. Horror dawns on his face as he realizes what his stupid mouth said.

Platonic good time between two people who are already halfway into a crush on each other let's gooooooo catch feelings time. Featuring tender Emmrich and mutual pining due to being idiots.

3. Virgin Rook-- Emmrich is sooo upset at himself that it still hurts even though he was so sure they were fully prepared!! And then it keeps hurting? Torn between the angst element and comedy (Emmrich's pride in showing his partner a good time kicking in to silly levels)

4. STRAP STRAP STRAP STRAP STRAP PUT THAT MAN IN A STRAP.

Itty bitty dildo, obviously. Classic strap style is tempting as hell but also consider: modified harness that's a bit higher, Emmrich's cock trapped between Rook's soft thighs, grinding down, kissing Rook's neck while they lose their mind from being fucked properly for the first time in their life--

I can be soooo normal about this /lying

[fourisafan]

arthur leclerc relationship headcanons

➜summary: how i imagine a relationship with arthur leclerc would be (gn!reader) ➜word count: 480 words ➜content warnings: brief mentions of arguments & insecurity ➜author's note: sorry for the gap between fics! it's been really hot here so writing has been quite low on my list of priorities! i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

you are literally dating a big, dumb idiot (said affectionately, of course)

he's loving and tries his very best, but sometimes he misses things - you might have to remind him about things a couple of times

so sweet and patient with you though like he's genuinely so charming and he will make your heart flutter nonstop

sometimes gets insecure & thinks you could find someone better but never actually questions your judgement or tries to end things

works very hard to make you proud of him, even when you say that you'll love him regardless of what he does

arthur is also just insanely proud of you, like wow.. he literally just loves you so much!

always pushes charles to let you stay in his garage so he can have you close by when he works

makes you come to every race weekend where he'll be in the car because you once called it hot and it made him happy lol

he smiles into kisses, i just know he does

arthur usually has to pull away mid-kiss to have a quick giggle over how much he loves you before he can kiss you again

absolutely no issues kissing you in front of people, but won't do it if it makes you uncomfortable

loves a makeout session, even if it doesn't lead to more - he just loves kissing you!!

despite having no issues with kissing you in public, arthur won't really cuddle you in public

he doesn't mind a quick hug, but he won't really hold onto you for longer than necessary

doesn't mind if you wanna cling to him like a ragdoll though

massive cuddler at home tbh because he gets to basically nap trap you each and every time

unfortunately, you two argue a lot - fortunately, its mostly over silly goofy things

arthur is capital d Dramatic and will start a silly squabble with you over damn near anything

absolutely hates serious arguments though, even if they happen more frequently than either of you wants

he just loses control sometimes and gets frustrated, something he hates more than anything

you two, some nice food and a bit a privacy? now that's the perfect date in arthur's mind!

will totally be down to do whatever you wanna do tho - he's pretty adaptable!

doesn't mind sharing clothes but he prefers it when you wear his non-ferrari stuff because to him, its more personal

got you promise rings for your first year anniversary and damn near almost cried watching you put yours on

not really a flaunter - he doesn't care at all about posting you or you posting him, but he doesn't go out of his way to do it

definitely keeps most of his life with you offline tbh

a bit misguided sometimes, but arthur has only the best intentions

he's just the sweetest bean ever... treasure him!!

© all rights to fourisafan 2025.

[tadasfics]

date everything headcanons part 1

really don't know what I'm doing, anyways request fanfic and I'll get around to it! (One day..) I will do

Oneshots

Long ass fanfics

Smut

Headcanons

Sorry this took me so long, I have been on my date everything grid lately, if yall want 3-6way headcanons for couples like Washford and Drysdale or The hanks hmu Anyways smut in next post

Sfw

Volt

He seems Like he loves to drape his clothes over you to show that he bagged you. During a night at the club after saying some things to the crowd he will go over and drape his jacket over your shoulders especially when the bar is cold that night from the ac.

You paint his nails, he gives you the nail polish and gives the excuse he likes it the most when you do it but its really his excuse to have your hands on his hands.

He loves to show you off all the time, pda after a while will be mandatory, he will walk up behind your seat at the club and just give you soft affectionate kisses on your neck and run his hands down your waist

He loves your body warmth against his. He seems like he will pout if you pull away in your sleep but he will hold you close to his chest while the two of you sleep He lives for your praise, if something doesn't wow you he will make sure to go above and beyond.

Eddie

He enjoys silent moments between you two, if you're sitting At the bar on a mainly empty night he will make you a drink and just stand near you, maybe even humming softly.

He tends to get upset easily with people who ask you OR him excessive questions, he feels the pressure even if it's you. He will snap back at anyone who pressures you into answering questions

Eddie finds nights where it's just the two of you the best. He puts an arm around you and holds you close but not tightly unless something is wrong. He gives you head kisses while you two are relaxing

He makes drinks Inspired off of you but you and him are the only ones that can have themWhen he is out of work he loves to stay in and watch shitty movies he doesn't pay attention too. He falls asleep mid way through while petting your hair.

Chance

once got told he talked about tabletop games (DND/GNG) too much and even if it was once it still made him think every time he talked to anyone he was talking too much about it. So he tried to find other things that interested him but nothing really stole his interest like those games did. And whenever he talks to that person who says he talks about those games too much he lets them carry the conversation because his biggest fear is ever being that much of an issue to where they need to point it out to him again.

Whenever he is asked about his interest he lights up and you swear you can even see the light in his eyes get brighter. He will tell you everything you need to know and then some.

He needs constant reassurance, he doesn't get Jealous but he gets this doubt in the back of his mind always telling him off He tends to share pain, like you're upset he will take your pain on as his own and it completely bothers him because You're important to him. so He never wants you to feel any kind of pain

He loves pda, he needs you by his side at all times. He holds your hand a lot in public and loves when you lead him around your favorite stores. It gives him ideas on what you like and what he can get you to make you happy

Parker

He understands sometimes getting to sleep can be hard when your mind is racing so fast so if you're ever anxious or feeling stressed at around bedtime he reads you a rule book but he doesn't get too upset if you fall asleep in the middle of his “spectacular reading” As he calls it. He will just act like it bothered him just to get a rise out of you.

He likes to take you to museums and treat the whole layout of the museum like a board game, like as if you have to follow a specific route to get out. And every time you two get to the exit he says “we won!”

he claps when the plane lands. And I don't mean just a small little clap he is putting a round of applause together and letting out one of those loud whistles.

He sleep talks The most random things. In the middle of the night you will hear him say “don't throw the peanut butter at my spouse, you'll get them clean” and if you question it he calls you delusional.

If you ever had an argument he made you you two played a game and that's how you decided if you made up

Dorian

He tends to enjoy silent moments with you, watching a new movie on TV while Leaning Against each other, silent drives in the dark. all of it feels so intimate while being somethings two people who are friends and lovers can enjoy He likes to know that you two can just be your own people while in a relationship and

finds overly clinginess as a red Flag. He likes the “don’t go” or you holding onto a shirt of his until he returns, but if you stalk his location and pry out details that seem intrusive he will end things viewing it as toxic.

He is not a fan of PDA but he will always have a hand on you if someone gets too close incase something happens where you two need to run. He is aware that anything can happen at any time.

He just wants to make you feel safeHe holds doors open for you, one bc he is a gentlemen, two bc he wants you to glance over at him and smile like how you normally do when someone opens a door for you, this man lives for your smile.

He is the type of man to claim “I don't dance” at a formal event before wiping you off your feet with his ballroom style dancing.

He likes the titanic (idk just seemed very… dorian)

Please don't repost/translate! Og work by Tadasfics on Tumblr!

[sysig]

Experimentation (Patreon)

[ladsonlads]

Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part Two

Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader

Parts -> Part One | Part Two

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

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

Tags -> Angst, fluff :)

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

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

Late October

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long ago?”

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

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

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

“Do you have a phone now?” 

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

“I’ll get you a new one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Early November

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

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

…Selling to developers…suburban expansion project…

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

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

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

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

30 minutes later you had:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since when was there a—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A million dollars.” 

“Done.” 

Dammit, you should’ve asked for more. 

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

“Elaborate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mid-November

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What have you done?”

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

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

“You threatened an old man with a gun…” 

“Yes.” Kieran responded. 

“Over a gem?” You asked in disbelief. 

“A very rare gem!” Luke corrected. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

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

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

“Fine, what’s the address?”

_____________

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

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

“Y/M/N?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. The reason you were here, the gem.

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

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

“The Painite one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are the spitting image of your mother.” 

The comment caught you off-guard.

“You think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________

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

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

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

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

Wait, what?

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

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

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

“How do you know that?” 

“It’s in the shared calendar.”

“Fuck.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Late-November

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 _______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never mind. You needed a drink pronto.

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath.

“What was that?”

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

“Order whatever you’d like.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“We could, but that’s no fun.”

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

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

“What’s this?”

“The necklace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N. We’re both adults.” He pleaded.

“Bite me.” 

Before Zayne could open his mouth again, Sylus interrupted.

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

“No.” You said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Operation Sylus: No More

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come on sinkhole. Anytime now. 

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

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

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

“Then why did you have it open?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All sound came to a stifling halt. 

“Wait, you were the ‘developer’?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Late December

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

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

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

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

— Your hair looks especially nice today.

— Did you switch perfumes? I like it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had a point. Maybe it was too suggestive.

“I can change—”

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

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

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

__________________

“Did you see Sylus’s date?”

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

“I bet she’s had work done.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

“This is too much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list: @blue-sky336 @sei-chuun @astolary @luna-looniesblog @rainkissedberries @syluslittlecrows @escape-your-nightmare @mangooes @bibistarx @kathypellar @stxrrielle @mansonofmadness @babygirl-panda19 @wegottastayfocus @zoezhive @futurecorpse92 @diabolichii @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @cathuggnbear @blue-serendipity @huuvu @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @sh3sa1dwhat @justpassingdontworry @sylustoru @poptrim @mikachux3 @thargelalia @eolivy @vyntheria @dana-nite @miffysoo @babyx91 @fealy @sillyfreakfanparty @cassiesversion @serenity-loves-red @nommingonfood @sylusgirlie7 @browneyedgirl22 @silverbrain

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

[notquitecanon]

Virtual Breadcrumbs || Poly!141 x hacker!reader

Summary: A kinda prologue to Search History, While you're having your menty b back on base, a little bit from the boys' perspective. Specifically Simon. Alexa, play Mastermind by Taylor Swift.  

Part One Next Part

CW: NSFW MDNI 18+ female pronouns , porn, porn, lots of porn allusion, the boys are all handsy with each other, Simon's lowkey manipulating the situation, again irl this is harassment, stalking warning to be safe? mentions of oral and vaginal sex, really just me being nasty from Simon's point of view

It took a long time to gain access to Simon’s inner circle. Simon Riley had a habit of being intense, all or nothing, especially for those he’s decided to care about. His captain and his sergeants were in that inner circle, and he cared deeply, implicitly, about them. Health, safety, happiness, and something Simon was especially attuned to was keeping them sated. A man of action and acts of service. 

Simon was neither a poet nor a psychologist, so he didn’t spend much time or energy putting definitive terms and conditions on whatever relationship the 141 shared. He cared and he was cared for, it was intimate on all levels, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

A bond forged in bombs, bloodshed, and loyalty above all else.  Four soldiers at the top of their game, literally battle-hardened (double entendre completely intended). He was content with his little circle. 

However, he couldn’t fault the boys for missing something a little softer. Something a little sweeter, something a little more pliant. Hell, Simon wouldn’t mind burying his nose in a neck that didn’t smell like sweat, blood, and gunpowder.  

That’s where you came in. Simon’s sharp eyes didn’t miss anything. 

He saw how Price’s signature little smile rested on you whenever your explanations turned a little rambling, the look of pride in his eyes when you cracked a hard encryption- he’d called in a favor from Laswell to recruit you after all. How the Captain didn’t scold you when your work outfits were outside the civilian regulations (which was often), not that Price minded the view when you’d drop something and bend over to pick it up in your pretty skirts and heels. 

He saw how Gaz would lean over your shoulder, just a hair too close to be friendly, and watch in a little bit of awe as you worked, how the two of you spoke in code (literally) to each other. He would watch Gaz get a little hot in the face with your flirty little quips over comms, voice a little tight as he returned them. How the sergeant would bring you little pastries or coffees on days they were on base, how prided he seemed when your face lit up, and when you’d unexpectedly touch him- grab his hand or bicep with your pretty painted nails? Simon would notice how Kyle would excuse himself to go do something else, sometimes dragging Soap off with him.

And Johnny. He tried not to show it, the Scot was as loyal as they came. A dog, Simon called him often, a mutt when he was being obnoxious. Simon’d noticed Johnny literally sniffing around you, his head following the lingering scent of perfume and shampoo when you passed. He was touchy with you, passing it off as being friendly, hugging you just a bit too tight to feel the squish of your body against his- a kind of softness Simon, Price, and Gaz just couldn’t replicate. It was a sport for him, to get you to blush or stutter. 

And, fucking hell, the banter. Your voice, slightly crackly through their headsets, leading and chiding them through missions. Something about the distance or facelessness of it made you bold and teasing. Soap would egg you on over comms, sending you both down teasing explicit rabbit holes, until Price would remind both of you that the brass had access to these audio files, and you’d get shy and go quiet, but not for long.  Gaz was fairly smooth with it, not often getting out of hand until you clicked off and he’d adjust his pants and collar mid-op. Something about Price’s authority kept you a bit tamer on him, but sometimes you would slip, and the way you got all shy and apologetic, Price’s chest would puff up a bit, beard twitching with a smirk as he’d ’scold’ you. 

Simon’s men wanted you, bad. But none of them were going to be the first to admit it, none of them wanting to be the first to want more. Their loyalty to each other was their greatest value, but it was holding them back this time. But Simon had a plan, all he had to do was plant the seed. 

__

The 141 had holed up in a grungy safehouse to rest and recoup before moving on to the next portion of this assignment. ‘House’ was a bit generous- there was no central heating and it was little more than a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, the living room was basically just the foyer with a pull-out couch that took up the entire floorspace when pulled out.  The mission hadn’t gone to shit, but it was proving tedious, and stretching into a longer commitment than they’d planned for. Price was miffed about the time commitment, but it wasn’t anything new, it happened all the time. 

Waiting for transpo from Nik and information that you were working on. Even Simon felt the sting of disappointment when you’d told them you’d need them to quit calling, that the data Price requested from you was proving to be a challenge that needed undivided attention. They were bored. Price and Gaz had slipped off somewhere so the Captain could work out some of his irritation, which in turn got Soap huffy and touchy. 

Which was why the Scot was sitting, spine curled into Simon’s side, laid across the sofa still in full gear, long legs over the side while Simon simply sat up straight ( "s’too fuckin’ cold f’ this shite", he’d muttered after they’d found the wood for the old fashioned wood stove was both wet and molding, "Body heat it is, fucks sake." ), military-issue tablet using the secure network you and Gaz had set up. Too tired to do much of anything, too mission-wired to truly relax, restless and a little homesick.

Simon wasn’t surprised that it only took two rounds of solitaire before the Scot switched to the browser and started to look through the homepage of a porn website he didn’t recognize. They both knew this strategy, get yourself off a few times and your brain releases enough ‘good’ chemicals that you might be able to get some sleep. Johnny did seem uncharacteristically indecisive, getting quickly squirmy and irritated, as he continuously clicked ’next page’ waiting for something to catch his eyes.

A sniper always sees a good shot when it lines itself up, time to plant the seed. 

"Give it ‘ere." Simon gruffed, plucking the tablet out of Johnny’s hands, only smirking at the coarse language Johnny offered in return, though he didn’t attempt to get the tablet back. Waiting curiously and not so patiently for whatever Simon was going to produce, what a good dog.  The lieutenant took a couple minutes to find the right seed to plant, using key phrases that produced the results he was looking for. 

He let Soap peruse his yieldings. The actresses had some things in common, familiar hair and eye colors, familiar because they shared them with you. And the actors doing such filthy things to them? Well, that was the seed (double entendre not intended) Simon was planting, the bone he was throwing to Johnny, all the actors were Scottish.  The sniper knew his shot landed when Soap muttered under his breath, taking the tablet back, hips shifting a bit subconsciously as he scrolled, watching the thumbnails give little snippet previews, "Steamin’ Jesus, Lt…" 

"Seen you sniffin’ around our analyst. Pretty bird." Simon shrugged but his eyes were just as fixed on all the thumbnails, girls that looked vaguely like you in all sorts of positions getting rammed on Johnny’s- sorry, the actor’s cock. He saw the look of (Catholic) guilt on the sergeant’s face, swirling with lust and a pretty flush under his stubble, so Simon swooped in with another seed, motioning to a thumbnail where an actress with the same hair as you was moaning, "Bet our bird'd look better, bet she’d sound better." 

The guilt was gone, the seed planted and flourishing in the Scot’s brain, Johnny’s lips growing into a wicked grin as he settled on a video, not bothering with headphones or squirreling away in the bathroom.  One video turned to three, the two men taking turns chiding and teasing the other, and when his sergeant finally burst, it was your name he called out. 

Yes, his plan was going to work beautifully. 

___

For a quick two-minute search with the sole purpose of quickly getting Soap off, Simon hadn’t been displeased with his results. Neither had Johnny if the spring in his step and uptick in screen time was any indication. The actresses shared features with you, but he was positive there was a closer match out there. And since he couldn’t exactly ask you, their lass in the chair as Soap called you, he turned to their other tech guru and the next part of his plan. Kyle. 

He was a bit more straight-laced than either Simon or Johnny, he’d be harder to convince. Simon didn’t know if he had it in him to debate the morality of purposely seeking out a porn star that was as close as physically possible to you… Or how that might affect the relationship amongst the 141… Ghost wasn’t known for being the moral backbone of the task force, and this wasn’t an issue that could exactly be bullied to be won.  

So, when first met with some resistance even if Garrick’s face was flushed and he was shifting in his seat, ("Simon, that’s… I don’t know what but it’s not right. What if she finds out-") he delegated some orders to Johnny. 

Simon didn’t know what the Sergeants got up to- that’s a lie, he had a pretty good idea, and he expected a repeat performance later- but when they came back, Kyle’s eyes were still a little glazed and his shoes were on the wrong feet. 

"Well?" Simon raised an eyebrow looking up from the rifle he was meticulously cleaning. Johnny was smirking smugly, belt still undone, nudging the other sergeant to remind him to answer their lieutenant. Gaz was nodding wordlessly for a moment, running a hand over his hair, slumping back in front of his military-issue computer, and opening a private browser. 

"Yeah… Yeah, mate, I’m on it." Kyle was practically still panting from whatever Johnny had done to/for him. Simon smirked, going back to his rifle, until after a moment when Kyle’s voice was more level, he added his requirement, "If I find her-" 

He paused, cheeks heating a bit as he reworded himself a bit, "A look-a-like, I mean, I get to taste her first." 

Simon could work with that. 2 down, 1 to go. 

____

Lastly, John Price. Saved him for last for a reason, but he was also the easiest. Simon waited until the assignment was on the up and up again. Summit fever to push through and go home had its claws in all of them. He knew it was a good time because, after the last firefight and subsequent march through the woods to a safe zone, all the boys were too tired to fool with each other... much. Price was sitting against a tree, that ridiculous hat of his resting on his propped-up knee, face illuminated by his cigar and the light of his phone.

Wordlessly, Simon crouched beside the captain and held his hand out expectantly for the phone. Price blew his smoke with a quirked brow but was curious to what the sniper had in mind, placing the device in the waiting gloved hand. 

"What’re you up to, Simon?"  Price inquired suspiciously, lowering his eyes to the light of the screen as it was handed back to him. His blue eyes, older looking than the captain really was, widened for a second before darkening in the low light of the forest, "So this is what the Sergeants’ve been on about, uncanny…" 

Price watched the very short prelude, a woman who looked so much like you, wearing something a little racier than you’d wear to the office but as blood rushed elsewhere, Price found the realism didn’t matter much when if he squinted… it was you stripping off a cardigan and letting some sort of authority figure pop the buttons of your blouse before shoving you under a desk with your pretty painted lips wrapping around his- sorry, the actor’s throbbing cock… 

Seeing the way John’s expression shifted, Simon smirked under his mask, raising back to his full height and returning to where he’d stashed his gear. His plan was almost complete, they were in the final stretch.

___

Simon was watching over Johnny’s shoulder, his hips occasionally rutting through his clothes into the scot’s back, a video that the sniper had chosen. Soap thought it was really funny that it happened to be from your doppelganger's Halloween playlist, but now was just as entranced watching the tall domineering figure clad in all black and mask absolutely ruin you her. The bed was a perk of finally making it to an actual base, with officer’s barracks, waiting for the official expo back to you home.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon groaned, biting Johnny’s shoulder through his mask and the sergeant’s t-shirt, as gloved hands twisted into hair just like yours. It was hard not to insert himself into the fantasy. A knock on the door made him growl, pulling him away from the delicious video and friction that Soap’s weight against him was providing. With more force than really necessary, Simon whipped the door open, only relaxing a little bit when Price was standing there with Gaz, both of them with their strategizing faces on. So, he wasn’t the only one making plans lately.

“See the new video that got posted?” Gaz questioned, looking down to unlock his tablet undoubtedly sharing it over to Johnny’s laptop still playing on Ghost’s bed. Both Lieutenant and Sergeant shook their head no. Johnny clicked on the share notification, releasing a breath that puffed his cheeks and raised his eyebrows as he read the title alone, the video still loading in the base’s less than ideal wifi (the 141’s latest habit undoubtedly eating up most of the bandwidth). 

It was your doppelganger’s stage name accompanied by the words Barrack’s Bunny Gets Gang Banged! 

“Fuckin’ Hell.” Simon repeated, words almost snarling his jeans chafing him as his cock twitched in his still buttoned jeans. 

“We’re having a dinner at mine.” John decided cooly, seemingly unrelated, leaning in the doorframe. His demeanor was its usual casual confidence, but his eyes were dark with the kind of want that spelled disaster for anything that stood between him and his goal. The seeds Simon had planted were growing like invasive weeds, wild and quick, “She’s invited.” 

“How’re we playin’ this?” Simon questioned relinquishing the reins to his captain, he was just as much of a soldier as the rest of them, he took orders well, watching as Gaz joined Johnny at the foot of the bed, both Sergeants watching the video together, hands already starting to wander, gear being unbuckled and unsnapped. Price smirked at the sight, adjusting himself through his camo cargos. 

“Cooly. Don’t wanna spook th’ sweet thing.” He smiled, mostly to himself making himself comfortable on the tiny futon that had been cramped in Simon’s room as an ‘officer’s luxury’. The captain dwarfed it, and patted the limited space beside him for his lieutenant to join him, “We’ll have ‘er eating out of our hands. And then we’ll have her.”

Price said this with the same easy decisiveness as he’d have busting a terrorist cell, but the curl of his lip, how his legs spread to accommodate the growing erection in pants noted the difference for Simon, his captain nodding towards the Sergeant’s watching the video, their breaths already getting heavy. Kyle’s hands fisting the bed's blankets like he might slip away and Johnny’s hips were already rocking a bit. Price’s smirk grew, eyes flicking to Simon before looking back forward, “You’ve been busy, Simon. Never miss anything, do you?” 

It was a mix of praise and teasing that, from his Captain, made Simon’s affirmative grunt a bit lower, something twisting in his gut, like a pet that wanted to be stroked more. Price chuckled deeply, nodding, “Bet that thick head’a yours hasn’t considered why you noticed alluv our infatuations with our little analyst, ‘ave you?” 

Simon didn’t respond, watching how Johnny’s eyes lit up much in the same way they did when he was presented a puzzle (bomb) that caught his interest, how he moved Kyle’s hands aside and rewinded the video, once, twice, three times at something your lookalike did that scratched his brain just right. Mutt, Simon thought, waiting for Price to continue, knowing that the captain couldn’t resist teasing him just a bit. He’d expected as much, maybe a vulgar comment or two. He was not expecting a truth bomb that turned him both introspective and horny. 

“Only reason you noticed how much we liked ‘er, cause you’re always watching her. You watch her just as much as y'watch any of us, wonder what that might mean?” Price shrugged, one hand working at his belt buckle before motioning for Gaz to turn the volume. The Captain actually laughed at the look in Simon’s eyes that most would miss before nodding back to the video and the Sergeants, “Now, watch the show."

Fucking hell. 

__

Maybe it was that little bite of introspection or the flight home where they fleshed out every last detail of their plan to get you, the real you. (“Gaz and Johnny’ll do the leg work, play up the charm, and Ghost and I’ll work the opposite angle, strong and silent.”). Maybe it was how eagerly excited Soap was or how Ghost spent his extra time scrolling through your Instagram. Maybe it was the two brief interactions with you upon returning to base- how pretty your eyes were looking up at him through your lashes, how good you smelled, the movement of your skirt as Johnny spun you around, how you got jittery under his slightest touch in the briefing room… 

By the time he found himself on Price’s couch, he was impatient. Knee bouncing, checking his watch, making Gaz track your location. When you’d been sitting out in your car for more than fifteen minutes, he all but growled, snapping at Soap, “Go get ‘er.” 

And when Soap guided you inside, pulling one of those bright smiles out of you with his own jokes, and Gaz was helping you out of your coat like unwrapping a present, your cheeks already flushed all pretty from the Sergeants’ tag team flirting routine… He didn’t think he could wait for Price to put the steaks on the grill, he needed something to sink his teeth into, sooner rather than later. He was sure if he bit the curve of your neck, it’d be a lot like biting into a ripe peach… supple and sweet. Just like you. 

Oh, his plan had worked, the seeds were planted and growing and overtaking every other thought in his mind other than making sure him and his boys were sated at dinner tonight, and you were on the menu. 

____

To quote Sir Mix-A-Lot, "Little Does she know I'm a nasty DAWG."

Y’all are getting this because my writing app deleted what I had done on Search History pt 2. Reminder- the reader is loosely based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds. The physical description is pretty vague, but lots of skirts and heels and makeup are mentioned, and I might have gotten carried away and implied

Once again: thanks to any and all tags and comments, i collect them and they will be buried in my pyramid when I die. seriously, they inspire me to keep going and I screen shot them to show to my friends :))))

Also so sorry if you got tagged twice im bad at taglists!!

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[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ sweet, sticky, thick, and pretty ❞

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : toji wants to give you another baby

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : this is a post from my old blog but i revamped it and i really wanted to share this again because i was really proud of it. and yes, it's another breeding kink + pregnant kink. consider it a part two, since it takes place after megumi is born

toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you.

yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things.

it starts off with how he sees you coo over megumi, calling him your sweet baby. you're such a good mother, too, it's clear you'd likely be the favorite parent to that little brat.

but god, does he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid that he gave you.

the day you ask megumi what he wants for his upcoming 4th birthday at dinner, neither one of you is prepared for the words that come out of your son's mouth.

“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly as he chews on the steamed carrots, looking at you and toji. it was clear from how confident the little guy is that he's put a lot of thought into this.

“but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.”

little brat. you straight up choke, trying to stop the laugh-coughs as toji looks at his son, offended. this really is his son, because who else but you and the kid he made with you could have the nerve to say shit like that to him?

“twerp, you look just like me, you realize that, right?”

megumi huffs, looking at his dad in the cutest little glare. “that’s 'cause i'm a boy, though," he explains as if it's obvious, his precious little cheeks puffed up as he stuffs more of his food in his mouth.

"my sister has to be like mommy. you’d be an ugly girl, daddy.” toji just rolls his eyes, pinching the cheeks of the mini him, ignoring his protests. as the two bicker, you think. would it...really be that bad to have another baby? you always wanted a girl, after all, and toji took such good care of you and megumi...it couldn't be that bad. “well, uhm,” you begin, catching the attention of toji, an unfamiliar smile on your face.

there's a mischievous look on your face right now, his eyes narrowing as he waits for your response. whatever you're about to say is either going to haunt him for the next few days or make him roll his eyes at you.

“i'm sure daddy and i can work something out for you, 'gumi, but let’s think of some other things, too, m'kay?” 

ah.

you went the haunting route.

ignoring the little cheer his son let out, toji can't hide the disbelieving look that crosses his face when he processes what you just said.

'daddy'?

you've said the word, sure, usually when you talk to megumi about him. but something was different about how you said it, the way you looked at him when you said it, the barely visible flutter of your eyes...a silent promise there'd definitely be a deeper conversation about it later.

the very day megumi has a sleepover with the neighbor's kid, yuuji, toji is mentally cheering. he loves his son with all his heart, he truly does, but having a toddler in bed meant limited contact with his pretty wife.

it's only been 3 days since that little comment you made and it's been on toji's mind constantly. every time he tried to bring it up with you, megumi would interrupt and toji was not being the reason his son ended up traumatized because he overheard mommy and daddy talking about making babies in the kitchen.

"bye, gumi! make sure you behave for mr. nanami, okay? have fun with yuuji," you coo as you press two kisses to your son's cheeks, snapping toji back to the present.

"see ya, kid, be good," toji says, giving a nod of acknowledgement to nanami. megumi barely says goodbye before he runs after yuuji to the car, his run a bit awkward because of his overnight backpack.

waving goodbye to nanami, you shut the door, turning to look at toji with that smile as you.

"hi, toj."

you think you're so cute, don't you?

"hey, mama."

toji can't even lie, you are. wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants? yeah, your the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes one. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. fuck, you weren't even doing anything but he could already feel himself getting hard just from looking at you.

he's never been so whipped in his life.

"d'you wanna talk," you murmur lowly, your finger running over the thin silver chain on his neck. "we could go to the bedroom...and talk about the baby thing."

toji's eyes darken at the suggestion, knowing exactly what would happen the moment you both go into the bedroom. "yeah. think it's 'bout time we talked about it," he hums as he grips your wrist, tugging you to your room.

as soon you both step foot into the bedroom, toji hungrily presses your lips against his, letting out a deep groan. "had me thinkin' about knockin' you up again all fuckin' week, mama," toji sighs against your lips, tongue running over your lower lip.

"wanted to stuff you full so fucking bad."

feeling you sigh so prettily into the kiss, his doesn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth, hands busying themselves as they push your (his) sweats down off your hips before guiding you back to the bed.

you knew he would get excited over your comment, but you didn't think it would be to the point where he was rutting into you as he practically devoured you, feeling your back hit the bed.

“you want to give our 'gumi a sister? wanna be a mommy again," he questions, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. one of his hands slithers up under the oversized t-shirt to cup one of your tits and roughly knead it, his thumb just barely grazing over your nipple.

"wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?" 

you just hum a little breathless. your hand comes up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. he's so handsome when he's over you like this, his chain dangling right in your face.

“maaaaybe. megumi just made me think about it, 's all. you've been a good dad t' him, how could i not want to give you another one,” you coo, guiding him closer so you can press a kiss against the scar on his lip. 

“besides…”

toji grunts when he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you so you can feel the thick, heaviness of his arousal through his sweatpants.

“don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.”

after those words leave your pretty little mouth, toji is on you as he realizes that you're 100% going to give him the worse breeding kink ever.

"'m gonna fuckin' ruin you," he growls into your ear. you aren't given a second to protest before he's ripped your panties off, complaints falling on deaf ears. the tips of his fingers gently run over your puffy pussy lips, your slick wetness coating his fingers.

"fuck, mama, you're soaked already." his eyes are focused on your face as you squirm and whimper when he swirls little circles into your clit, an evil smirk on his face. "can't wait to fill you up 'til you're dripping with my cum, doll."

you can't stop your hips from trying to grind into his hand, eyes rolling back when he teased your entrance. "toji, c'mon, baby, i need you s'bad."

"baby, you know you can't take me without prep," he coos at you. he can feel how hot and slick you are, finally, finally slipping two of his fingers inside your cunt. and oh, the way you arch your back a little bit with a pleading whine of his name is so, so pretty, you're so fucking cute.

"mmn, maybe y'don't need prep, you just sucked my fingers right in," he says huskily before pressing a little kiss to the corner of your mouth. "you wanna try, mama? wanna see if you can fit my cock in you? really gonna feel that stretch, though, babe," toji warns, knowing you can't give a sensible answer when he starts pumping his fingers in and out.

when it seems like your about to answer him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is a shaky moan, his thick fingers curling to hit just the right spot inside of you that has you gushing. unable to form words, you tug on his shirt and nod frantically, just wanting to feel toji stuffing you full.

"yeah? you wanna try?" toiji pulls his fingers out of you, chuckling when you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. he pops his fingers in his mouth, cock throbbing at the addictive taste of your cunt on his tongue. "c'mon, we're both wearing too much, let's get you outta that shirt, ma."

you waste no time throwing the shirt off, not even giving him the chance to undress you. but once your shirt is off, you're practically ripping off his stupid black t-shirt that made his pecs look fucking delicious and those damn sweatpants and boxers that hid your prize.

as you fuss over his boxers, toji takes a moment to look at you spread out on the bed before him. you still had a bit of chub on you, tummy nice and soft and cute, just how he likes it. if he knew where his phone was, he'd take a picture of you right now; frustrated, horny, naked, and pretty. all for him.

"tojiiii, stop staring and kick off your stupid boxers, you're getting on my nerves!"

you can't even look him in the eye as you say that because you're too busy staring right at his cock, a thick bead of precum formed at the tip. the lick of your lips told him everything he needed to know, but he wasn't fucking your mouth, not tonight at least.

"what? i can't look at my own wife," he asks with a raised eyebrow, biting back a laugh when you swat at his hand that pinches one your puffy nipple. "tch, so rude, doll."

before you can snap back at him, he brushes the swollen head of his cock against your slick folds, smearing your wet over the tip. that shuts you up quickly and toji has to hold back another laugh. always so fussy until he finally gives you what you want. he's spoiled you rotten.

"toji," comes a soft whine, so soft he nearly misses it. your eyes are focused between your legs, lower lips between your teeth as he teases you with his cockhead. you huff, pushing your hand against his chest to give you enough space to shift positions, knowing exactly what would get him to stop teasing you.

once you roll over, you shift so that you're face down, ass up, you hand slipping between your thighs to spread your sticky pussy open, slick dripping down your fingers. "tojiiii, please? please, baby, stop teasing an' put a baby in me...please, hubby, give your wife what she wants."

any other whines or begs are interrupted when his hand comes down hard on your ass. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick. 

when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet, each inch sinking into you stretching those tight walls just a bit more.

"holy shit...fuuck me, baby, too fucking tight, you're strangling my cock," he hisses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he gave you inch after inch.

god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it's fucking with his head, his wife was gonna be the death of him.

both of you moan once he's all the way inside. you feel so full, his cock is too fucking big it doesn't make any sense and you genuinely think you should've let him fully prep you...but shifting your hips just a little bit has his tip pressing against something sinful. you whine and reach back to grab at one of his hands on your waist, turning to shoot him a mean glare as you demand, “stop stalling n’ knock me up, toji." 

who is he to deny what his wife asks?

using a hand to steady himself on the headboard, his hips begin to move slowly, pulling out just an inch and pushing forward again. "so tight 'n' warm..." each thrust hits deeper and more powerful than the last as toji begins to pick up speed, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you.

it's almost too much, but you don't want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth.

“shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ.”

now you really wish you stayed on your back, then at least you could've slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up. you drop your head down against the mattress with a moan, starting to move your hips to match his thrusts, the room filling with the sound of skin slapping on skin.

“fuuck, c'mon, throw that ass back on me, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” 

he starts pounding into you harder when he feels you tightening up on him. the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushing him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full.

he coos when he sees you starting to scramble up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes.

"tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it," he coos at you, following you up the mattress.

you never change, always swearing up and down that you wouldn't run from his cock, that you'd be able to take him. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”

toji may sound like he’s still put together, but he’s just thankful you can’t see his face since yours is pressed into the pillows at the top of the bed.

you can’t see how he’s barely holding himself together, trying his hardest not to let himself go too much. the last thing he needs is to cum before you, knowing that while you wouldn’t mind, he’d be annoyed for breaking his streak.

he’s brought back into the present when you manage to turn your head a little, able to look him in the eye, and god, does he love what he sees.

your mouth is open as you moan for him, eyes lidded and focused on only him. he sees the little tears gathered in them, not quite spilling over but the fact that they’re there tells him he’s the one making you feel that good. 

“tuh-toji, ’m gonna cum, gonna cum—!”

"yeah?" hearing you moan so sweetly for him only makes toji smirk, fingers digging into your hips as he helps you meet each thrust. “gonna make a mess f'me already? poor little cunt can't handle gettin' fucked so good? mmn, shit, 's okay, baby. let go for me, mama, cum on daddy’s cock.” 

"t-tojiiiii," you shakily moan, nearly ripping the sheets as you cum suddenly. it was his voice, the way he tried to sound put together but you could hear how desperate he was to feel your pussy clamp down on him and get his cock nice and messy.

toji's deep, guttural moans mix with your cries when he unexpected is pushed over the edge, the way you desperately grinded back against him causing him to swear under his breath as he lost his pace, groaning your name as he emptied into you. it felt so hot, the pulsating warmth of his tip nudging against your cervix paired with his thick cum filling you up dizzying the both of you. 

you expect some kind of snarky comment from toji, trying to catch your breath so you could reply when he said it. but nothing comes (you have to stop yourself from laughing at the pun). you turn to look back, sighing when toji pulls out of you. usually he stayed inside, leaning down to tease you for cumming so fast...but he didn't.

something was wrong and for some reason, you felt like your pussy was in danger.

“toj…?”

he didn’t answer. he probably didn’t even hear you, not with the way he was looking so intensely at the mess between your thighs. the mess he made. toji doesn’t know what comes over him, his hands practically moving on their own as he moves you over onto your back, then moving his hands down to your sensitive hole and spreading. 

the scene in front of him just breaks him. you let out a soft whine, hips gently rolling into his hands. his eyes stay stuck between your legs—sharp and focused—as they watch the thick globs of his hot cum drip out of your hole and down onto the bed sheets.

the groan that leaves him is sinful, and once you make eye contact with him, you realize how fucked you are. he’s hard again, almost making you believe he didn’t cum if it weren’t for the creamy sheen of his cum on his throbbing dick and the hotness of his dripping out of you. before you know it, toji’s climbing over you, making sure your legs get pushed over to his shoulders as he pushes you into a mating press.

yeah.

you're fucked.

you keep making eye contact, and now that he’s so close to you, you see how crazed he looks. his eyes, completely black due to his blown pupils, have an unhinged look in them, and the half smirk on his face only makes you worry about your ability to walk the next day.

“t-toji, if you need a break to calm down, then-oh!” 

he shuts you up by pushing himself inside you, loving how your eyes cross so prettily. he has you now, you can't run away from the overstimulating feeling of him fucking you in this position. and when you feel his hands come up and lock together on your head to really keep you in place, you feel yourself gush all over his cock at the simple display of how strong he was compared to you.

you're so fucked.

all you can do is moan and cry out his name, hands grabbing whatever part of him they could reach. but he doesn't let you break eye contact, keeping you close to his face so he could see every little expression. and fuck, does he like what he sees.

“t-tojiii, t’ deep, t’ deep!”

“wan’ me t’ stop? t’ stop fuckin’ this messy hole?”

“fuck, y-you stop, and I’ll c-choke the shit out of yo-ouh!”

“that’s it, take it, take daddy’s cock, mama, lemme breed you.”

everything about this position is driving both of you crazy.

the closeness has you reeling, the way toji just cannot bring himself to break eye contact, needing to see what he was doing to you.

his thick cock is hitting deep, almost too deep, with the way each thrust of his hips causes the tip to press into the sweet spot inside you every. single. time. 

he has you for the whole day and the whole night, he's going to make sure you're stuffed entirely and doesn't plan on stopping until either you tell him you need a break or until he can't cum anymore. and even then, he doesn't think anything will be able to get him out of your cunt.

but with the way he just moaned into your mouth, thick spurts of more cum coating your insides…and the way he didn’t get soft, instead pressing you even deeper into the mattress as he began to pound into you with a groan of how much he loved your pussy…

you were sure it would be a while until he was done with you.

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[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”