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novthirty · 2 months ago

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🐦‍⬛ OUT OF BOUNDS — you get isekai-d into the n109 zone [chapter three]

synopsis — the monotony of your university days is interrupted by a stroke of misfortune, one which lands you in the world of love and deepspace, the game you had been casually playing for the previous months. with no way to return home, sylus offers you the job of being his personal secretary. — a continuation of the one-shot “out of bounds”

pairing — sylus x non-mc! reader

tags — reader is not mc, isekai/transmigration, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slice of life, boss/employee relationship, slow burn

a/n — can i finish this fic by sylus’s birthday? i genuinely don’t know… 😭 but i’m finally on break so i’ll try my best in the next few days! anywho, we’ve finally caught up to where the one shot ended so get ready for the angst 😋

ao3 | masterlist | requests are open! series masterlist | part two | part four [coming soon]

chapter three: countdown— the night softens people in ways that can only be done in the haze of darkness, revealing a vulnerability too fragile for the harsh rays of the sun. you know this could be more, you know this could be everything. but the clock ticks down to what you know is inevitable. wc: 7.9k

A constant chill sweeps through the streets of the N109 Zone, creeping into the compound as you exchange flowy shirts and iced tea for thick sweaters and hot cocoa. It’s on one of these nights just past the first snowfall, towards the end of November, when he finds you in the kitchen minutes after midnight. Sitting alone, lighting a candle atop a puny cupcake.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His voice rumbles through the kitchen, startling you and breaking your focus. The lighter slips from your grasp, falling and smudging the frosting. Well, shit. You didn’t exactly prepare a backup.

“Uhm,” You stare guiltily at him like a deer caught in the headlights. There was no way you were getting out of this one, were you? Not when he’s standing with his arms crossed, disappointed, like a parent who’s caught their child red-handed.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in quiet frustration, “Please. Please. Do not tell me that today is what I think it is.”

“Surprise?”

“Surprise? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” His eye twitches. Even on your own birthday, you don’t fail to surprise him at every turn. Here you are, having thrown such lovely and thought-out celebrations for everyone’s birthdays, settling for a cupcake and a lonely celebration on yours. “Why on earth would you decide to keep this information from me?”

“Well, it’s just a birthday. I didn't feel the need to have a lot of celebration this year." The answer is nowhere enough to appease him, judging by his stern gaze.

You knew this world had a lot to offer; you had barely explored the criminal underbelly that was the N109 Zone, barely stepped into the shining beacon that was Linkon city. You were sure there was more than enough to fill in the gaps of your bucket list. But nothing could match the reckless but youthful adventure of getting lost with life-long friends. Nothing could live up to the warmth and solace of being surrounded by family, as you blow the candles on another year.

You try to keep it all buried under the surface– but with a sigh, you decide to cut open old wounds and bare a little more of your heart to him, “There was more to be sad about than to be happy, I guess. I had so many plans, so many people that I—“ You cut yourself off. Those heart strings were too fragile to be tugged at. “Well, now it’s all kind of gone to shit, huh?” You laugh bitterly.

Without missing a beat, Sylus asks, “And what were those plans?”

You reminisce on your old life, splitting the deformed cupcake with him as you recount plans that will never be. It hurts less than you expected it to, to breathe these lost wishes into existence for someone else to hear.

He listens intently, chiming in with similar experiences or places that he’s seen in this world– frankly, it reminds you of when your elders used to go on about their wisdom and their golden years. “Your age is showing, grandpa,” You tease him, and he lightly glares at you. You take the opportunity to ruffle his hair, “Your hair’s already silver, too.”

Eventually, your lunch break comes to an end, and you bid him goodbye as he returns to his office. You sigh as you clean up and throw away the candle you never even got to light. Oh well. There’s always next year.

Later that day you wake up in the afternoon, ready to start your shift— only to be greeted by streamers and balloons lining your path downstairs. “Happy birthday!” The whole house cheers as you enter the living room, decked out in all sorts of party favors. Even Sylus— the most notoriously unfestive man you’ve ever met— is wearing a cone shaped party hat striped with your favorite colors.

What follows is an impromptu day-off for everyone in the compound. (You feel an oncoming migraine thinking of how you’re going to readjust Sylus’s schedule, but that’s a job for future you.) They bring you to Linkon City, driving past the welcome sign as the sunset casts a pink glow over the horizon. It’s your first time visiting for leisure, your previous excursions into the city being solely for Onychinus business.

Sitting beside you at the wheel, Sylus participates in the idle chatter, but inwardly he feels ashamed. He's upset that you kept the date to yourself for so long; but more than that, he’s angry at himself for never having bothered to ask. So, in the final hours of your birthday, he does his best to make up for it.

The four of you drive around the city with Mephisto following from the skies, visiting various spots that were eerily similar to the ones you had described mere hours ago to Sylus. The itinerary matches your original plans to a T, as he drags you to every activity you had desired to partake in, lavishing you with all sorts of presents on the way.

Your last stop is a shopping center, to which you groan, already knowing the fate that awaits you. Sylus is the type to spend more than he needs to as a statement. He insists that you wait for him in the plaza, no doubt going off to the most luxurious store in the mall looking for a hefty price tag. You sit by the fountain, deserted due to the late hour, dangling your feet as you wait for him to return.

You gasp as a cold pair of hands suddenly covers your eyes. “Keep still, sweetheart,” He whispers in your ear, shocking you out of your bored reverie. You keep your eyes forward as he pulls your hair aside, breath hitching as he clasps a necklace around your neck, the cold metal brushing against your skin. It's a thin chain, with a gem of your favorite color set in an intricate frame. You don’t know much about jewelry or gems, but you can’t comprehend how much this must have cost. The way it sparkles and glints under the light makes it clear that it must have cost a fortune.

“Sylus, I can't accept this…” You turn around to face him. Just as when he took you shopping before the auction, it’s far too much. You’re not used to being spoiled, not used to treating yourself without deserving it first, and you tell him as much.

He tips your chin upwards with a feather-light touch, his gaze unreadable as he asks, “And who says my lovely secretary doesn’t deserve the world at her feet?”

The atmosphere shifts, the effortless ease at which you interact with him dissipating into stutters and heated stares. This tension follows you as you reunite with Luke and Kieran, the two having gone their separate ways to buy you their own present�� a new set of knitting needles, and a mug with the words “World’s Best Secretary” that they’ve decorated to hell and back with rhinestones in your favorite colors.

The four of you spend the rest of the evening dining in a fancy restaurant, bypassing the queue with Sylus’s name alone. It’s a strictly no-work evening, as you bicker with the twins and coo at Mephisto (You have since learned he cannot digest food. It’s a shame, and you’ve been pestering Sylus to add it as his next upgrade.) You turn to him, casually silent throughout it all. All throughout the night you’ve been hyper aware of his heat pressed against your side, his thigh brushing against yours, even as he seems unaffected himself. He raises an eyebrow upon catching your gaze, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You nod; a true, content smile on your face. It's not exactly the birthday you envisioned for yourself this year; the absence of your friends and loved ones still acts as a wide, gaping hole in your heart. But nonetheless, you now have a newfound family to spend your special day with— and that’s more than you could have ever expected.

When the cake is brought out— a fancy, two-tiered thing in your favorite color— you make a wish. It’s not about your wistful longing to go home. It’s not about your hopeless desire to wake up from this strange dream. It’s a wish for all your moments to be like this— heart full, and with family by your side.

After dinner, Luke and Kieran have to leave for a mission they couldn’t get out of. “Happy birthday,” They each greet you again with a hug and a disappointed goodbye, “Sorry we can’t continue the celebration back home.” You wave off their worries— there’s always more fun to be had once they come back.

“Boys, take the car,” Sylus tosses over the keys, “I'll be taking Treasure out for a spin. She’s been getting a little dusty, lately.”

The twins glance at each other with a knowing look, subtly looking towards you with a hint of mischief, “Oh, gotcha boss.” They lightly snicker as you two walk them to the parking lot.

“What's so funny?” You narrow your eyes, knowing very well by now that that look means nothing but trouble.

“Nothing to worry about, Ms. Secretary… Nothing to worry about. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Luke grins before rolling up the driver’s window.

About half an hour later, you deeply regret not listening to your instincts as you scream your head off, clung to Sylus's back like a koala as he goes faster than you thought was technologically possible. ”What the fuck— Sylus, slow down!” Your shout fades into a shriek, your screams of terror echoing throughout the empty road as he leans the motor til’ your knees are brushing against the pavement, a shit-eating grin on his face behind the visor of his helmet.

“Her name’s Treasure,” He said, pulling out the beast of a motorcycle from his Linkon safe house, introducing it to you as one of his most prized possessions. You don’t know what you were expecting when he tossed over a helmet and told you to hold tight, but you certainly didn’t expect to have a near-death experience on the day of your birth. He continues to rev up the engine, a hellish speed that shortens a fifteen minute trip out of Linkon to a mere three minutes.

You cling on for dear life, your whole body wound tightly in fear, and eventually he settles into a safer speed, adrenaline fading and allowing you to enjoy the night breeze. “Let’s take a little detour, hm?” You barely hear him over the rumble of the engine, making a turn just past the Linkon City welcome sign and to the opposite direction of the N109 Zone. He drives through the wilderness and the winding roads, bringing you to a rocky cliff side.

You gasp at the sight before you, taking off your helmet to admire it in all its glory. You could see the entirety of Linkon from here, a circuit board of lights and neon colors, casting a dim glow over the city skyline. It's rare to find a clear sky in the winter, giving way to the full moon and the sea of stars.

“Can we take a picture?” You ask hesitantly, fully expecting him to say no.

He nods, “You should have memories of your birthday.” Your jaw drops. There are only a handful of photos of him on record– he rarely ever lets anyone take a picture of him, out of caution on his identity being leaked.

As the one with the longer arms, you gesture for him to take the picture, posing for a selfie with the skyline in the background. But as he hands you the phone, genuinely satisfied with the photo after taking a look– you think, is he messing with you? The photo is blurry, the both of you a little bit out of frame, and his finger blocks the corner of the image.

You laugh in confusion; you genuinely cannot tell whether this is a prank or not. “Let’s take another one, I'll do it this time.”

You don’t know how long you two stay there, with your head laid against his shoulder, a quiet peace settling over you two as you talk about anything and everything. On the ride home, you find yourself flushing despite the winter chill. It’s a comfortable silence, yet your heart is thumping loudly against your chest. Does he hear how he makes you feel? You wonder as your eyes meet in the side mirrors, turning and burrowing your cheek into his warm shoulders. The journey home feels like an adventure coming to a close, street lights blinking against the night sky and quiet rumble of the few cars on the highway at this hour.

Before he retires to his bedroom, you place a soft kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for today.” You whisper before shutting the door behind you.

From then on, the air between you two shifts, becoming significantly more… tense. What were once casual interactions turn meaningful with every brush of your fingers, with every meeting of your eyes across the room. He's always lavished you with the sweetest of pet names; dear, darling, sweet girl. You assume it’s just how he is, given what you had seen of him from the game. But why does it make your heart race every time he refers to you with such terms of endearment? Why does it fuel your delusions of having something more?

—————————————————————

But of course, no matter how much the dynamic shifts and bends between the two of you, it doesn’t change the fact that with winter chill comes holiday tunes and festivities. You were absolutely appalled at their lack of holiday spirit in the previous years, “How can you run an organization like this?!” So, on the week before Christmas, you once again strong-arm Sylus into having your festive way at the Onychinus base.

It begins with you dragging your boss out to the nearest Christmas tree farm. “You’re rich enough to afford a real one,” You decide definitively. He rolls his eyes but drives you there anyway.

You two spend an hour walking through the farm with mugs of hot cocoa, eventually settling on a tree that you have to lug all the way back to base. You huff as you carry the other end of the cart, your breath coming out in clouds of condensed air ever since you two brought it out of the truck. You wheeze in exhaustion, “Are you even lifting?” You helplessly ask Sylus, who looks too nonchalant considering the literal tree you two were carrying.

“Oh? My bad,” Is all he says before swooping in with his evol, red tendrils wrapping around the trunk to carry it the rest of the way. You hold in the urge to scream and cuss at him. This man just loves to test your patience.

Each night on the week before Christmas goes similarly. The moment your work is done for the day, you drag the whole house into some sort of festive activity. Decorating the compound, baking a gingerbread house, making eggnog. Holiday tunes fill the Onychinus base 24/7 and for once, Sylus finds that he doesn’t mind. Not when he sees the way you dance to yourself when you think no one’s looking, the way you know the words by heart and hum them under your breath. But he doesn’t participate much, mostly checking in and making sardonic yet supportive comments before returning to his work.

One evening, he decides to bring his work to the living room while you’re setting up the tree. It was a great source of entertainment to see you struggle on your toes placing the ornaments, hoisting yourself up on whatever nearby surface was available to you. But even he found it a bit too pitiful to watch you struggle to place the star, too vertically challenged to place the finishing touch. Couldn’t you just get a ladder? “Let me help you,” His breath tickles your ear as he grabs your waist, lifting you up with one arm.

You squeal, gripping to him tightly and kicking at the air beneath you, “Sylus, what the fuck! Put me down!”

“Place the star, darling. While I'm still being nice." In the end, you call it a team effort, despite his only contribution being his role as a human ladder.

—————————————————————

Your mood has been nothing but jovial the whole week of Christmas, caught up in nothing but festivities in anticipation of the holiday. And so, it disturbs him when the eve of the 25th arrives and you’re downtrodden. A shell of your typical self. He's never seen you like this before— absentminded and listless, it takes you a whole minute to realize he’s calling your name for the grand Christmas dinner you had insisted upon. “I'm fine, just a bit sleepy,” you explain as he voices his worries. He doesn’t believe you, not one bit, judging by the way his eyes continue to follow you through the rest of the night.

You open presents with everyone at midnight, gathered around the fireplace with the whole Onychinus family. This time, you knitted Sylus a scarf; he wraps it around himself immediately, already knowing it’ll be a staple in his closet for the winter months to come. He looks to his right and sees Mephisto with a matching, tiny version around his neck.

Meanwhile, you were overwhelmed upon unwrapping the large present addressed to you and finding a high-grade coffee machine, one of the fancy ones with a latte art feature. How did he know? You narrow your eyes at him across the room, a satisfied smirk twisting his face. You’ve never said anything about it, only looked at the ads and the site out of boredom and curiosity. (Simple answer: He had Mephisto spy on you when you were scrolling your phone.)

You smile and thank everyone at the right cues, but he can tell your heart’s not in it. Physically, you celebrate and have your childish fun with the twins, dancing to merry tunes and having all-out warfare with the crumpled wrapping paper littering the floor. But mentally, you were far away— your eyes speaking of a grief none of them could begin to comprehend. Once the cookies are nothing but crumbs and the wrapping paper is all cleaned up, he decides to take you to the rooftop to ask what’s wrong.

“Come on, let’s get some fresh air,” He invites you, donning his coat and boots.

You throw him a skeptical look, “In this frigid temperature? Are you insane? I'm already shivering here inside,” You fake-shiver dramatically just to prove your point.

“Well then, isn’t it fortunate you just received a plethora of winter clothes for the holiday?” He gestures to the pile of fancy, designer items you had folded on top of the coffee machine’s box. You’ve long since learned to pick your battles with this man– and it is simply not worth it anymore to argue with how he spends his money.

“Well-played,” You begrudgingly acquiesce, following him up to the rooftop where you sniffle from the cold air biting at your nose.

You’ve spent countless nights here in the warmer months, the only place where you could pretend the N109 Zone wasn’t the bloody death trap it truly was, shining under the glow of the moonlight and the stars littering the sky. Only from the top– from an untouchable position of power– could this wretched, dangerous city look so beautiful.

“What's on your mind?“ Sylus asks, breaking the peaceful quiet. “You haven’t been yourself all evening.” It faintly reminds you of those nights in spring, wind brushing against your cheeks as you slowly began to let down the barriers of your heart, the terror of slumber softened by the comfort of company. A lot has changed since then, you think. But at the same time, there’s a lot that hasn’t.

“I—“ You hesitate, planning on brushing it off like you always do. But then you realize: you trust Sylus, more than anyone else in this world.

And so, you decide to bare your heart to the only person who holds enough of it to break it.

It's a bittersweet Christmas for you, the first you’ve ever spent away from home. For the first time since you were whisked away to this surreal world, you speak of your original life. Your family. Your friends. Your dreams. A fragile boundary that you haven’t touched with anyone here, for it hurts too much to speak of what you left behind. (No, not left behind. Taken away from you.)

You try to string sentences together, try to give justice to the people who brought meaning to your life, to the reckless and stressful and beautiful joy of your old world— but how do you capture all that you’ve lost in mere words? It's too much. You feel your chest cave under the weight of these emotions, far too heavy for one heart to handle. “I miss them so much,” Your voice cracks, small tears streaming down your cheeks— but he offers you a quiet grace and says nothing of it. It’s such a painfully simple sentence to express the torrent that devastates you— and yet, he understands.

The night softens people in ways that can only be done in the haze of darkness, revealing a vulnerability too fragile for the harsh rays of the sun. And thus, it is here beneath snowfall and starry skies, where he sheds his claws and his barriers, telling you of his search for the other half of his soul. He speaks of a similar homesickness, finding kinship with you through loss, as he’s waited what seems like a millennia for the person he calls his home. You already know, of course, that sooner or later he will meet her again. It was inevitable, written into the cards as it was written into code. This world was once your favorite game, and you had shed tears at their loss, at their cursed fate. You stay silent, listening to the tragic tale from the man himself.

His eyes speak of so many more untold truths— of love hidden deep in the crevices of his heart, taking root in his chest for the past millennia and shaping the man he’s become. “I had never known love until I found her.” He speaks of her with such fondness sparkling in his eyes, an adoration reserved for his one and only— his sorceress, his soulmate. It makes you hurt for this man, for the trials he’s endured in the name of true love. But it is also a bitter reminder that you have no place by his side.

Although you stay by his side and offer him words of comfort, deep inside you also want to claw at him. Force his eyes on you so you can feel even a smidgen of that pure adoration for yourself. But you can only feel bitter guilt taking root inside you. After all, who are you to meddle in their tale? Who are you to rival fate itself?

It is winter solstice now, a period marked by a perpetual chill and the longest nights of the year. Your relationship with Sylus is one that has prospered in darkness; taking root in the midnight hours, your most tender and vulnerable moments allowed only under the cover of the night sky. But inevitably it will be overshadowed by the return of summer and with it, his soulmate— the woman who brought sunshine to his darkest days.

—————————————————————

On New Year’s Eve, he doesn’t even give you the chance to feel homesick. The moment the sun rises, he takes you on a joyride to Linkon City. It’s rare for you to see Sylus in the daylight; shrouded in sunshine rather than moonlight, surrounded by crowds rather than deserted streets. “I go here every year,” He boasts as he leads you to the temple fair, determined to make your first New Year’s Eve here memorable.

“Oh?” You’re rather surprised, given that he doesn’t exactly have a penchant for celebrating the holidays. But you smile, walking forward to match his stride, “Well then, I'll trust you to lead the way!”

He takes you around the fair— buying from the various food stalls he says are the best, watching the street performances he’s probably seen countless times before, doing all the festive gimmicks he knows you’ll love, even if it isn’t his cup of tea. He keeps you occupied, making sure you don’t even have a moment to feel sad.

At the front of the temple, you ask him to take a picture of you in front of the pretty backdrop. You pose for a few pictures, guided by his direction until he hands you the phone, “Tell me if you want me to take another.”

What greets you is the blurriest, most unflattering photo of you to exist in both your old and current world. You scroll through the rest of the pictures only to find they all hold the same level of (or rather, lack of) quality. You stare blankly at the screen and sigh, “This is good enough for me.” Everyone has their weaknesses, you suppose.

Although Sylus mentioned that he’s a regular here, you’re still quite surprised to see his words ring true when all of the vendors greet him warmly, recognizing him from years past. “Let the lady choose one! It’s on the house,” A vendor selling fortune bracelets tells him, overjoyed that he finally brought someone along. You scan the numerous pieces on display, your eyes landing on a small beaded bracelet— the tag marking its fortune for “a safe return home.”

Sylus gracefully does not comment on this as the vendor packs the bracelet, bidding you two a jovial goodbye.

The two of you sightsee for a while before finding yourself sitting across from each other at a caricature portrait booth, directed by the artist to, “Look into each other’s eyes! I’ll make sure to capture the lovely couple you are.” Neither of you step in to correct him. But the artist’s light mood quickly fades as he soon realizes the type of client he’s dealing with. “Miss, please stop moving,” He says for the millionth time, absolutely fed up with your silly behavior.

You cannot stop your smile from trembling, your eyes locked on Sylus’s as the two of you went head-to-head in a staring contest– which you promptly lost five seconds in by bursting into giggles. You’re about to keel over, cheeks puffed up from poorly restrained laughter. Meanwhile, Sylus is comically straight-faced, amusedly raising an eyebrow at your antics, “What's so funny? Is there something on my face?”

Afterwards, he stakes his claim on the portrait, “It’s only right, considering what a hard time you gave the artist,” He reasons, snatching the paper from your hands.

You slump and walk past him, grumbling, “I'd like to see him try to stay serious with your ridiculous face.”

But behind you, you don’t see how his eyes are locked on the sight of you captured in charcoal and ink, genuine glee transforming your face. You’ve never looked so beautiful, he thinks. Falling into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, shoulders momentarily free of the burden of all you’ve lost. He carefully stows the paper away, making a mental note to tip the artist extra.

When night falls over the city, he brings you to the tallest building in Linkon for the best view of the fireworks show. Despite the chilly air, his hand is warm in yours, clutching it in a tight grip as he wades through the crowd of people who had the same idea. Fortunately, you find a secluded corner where the two of you sit and sip your milk tea, talking about your new year’s resolutions.

“I don't do resolutions,” He waved a hand, unimpressed. “If I want to change an aspect of my life, I won't wait until the start of a new year to do so.”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” You stick your tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes, but he’s internally pleased with how well he’s distracted you thus far. “My resolutions are always the same. Exercise more, eat healthy, and save money!”

“Dear, there is a private gym back home that you haven’t touched even once,” Your heart flutters at the word home. A word that brings you melancholy on most days, but now fills your heart with domestic bliss.

“Well then, it’s perfect! I'll have no excuse not to start tomorrow.”

He shakes his head in fond exasperation. Your eyes are glued to the magnificent colors soaring through the sky, legs bouncing in time with the countdown. But unbeknownst to you, his gaze is entirely on you.

The world he lives in is a cruel and violent one, where people’s eyes sparkle with greed, envy, and lust. A part of him doesn’t understand how something as superficial as fireworks can bring people such joy, how holidays inspire a brief kindness in their hearts, as if it’ll make up for their sins the rest of the year. But maybe he can understand it, just a little bit now, he thinks. Because if it means seeing this look in your eyes again, so childlike and enchanted by the sight before you (the first time he’s seen happiness override the grief shadowing your eyes), then he would light the sky every night, just for you.

When the clock strikes midnight, you jump to give him a big bear hug. “Happy new year, Sylus!”

He cradles you in his arms, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Happy new year.”

—————————————————————

Even the high-paced criminal world of the N109 Zone slows down on New Year’s Day, people burrowing in their homes to ward off the early January chill sweeping through the city. Work inside the Onychinus compound pauses as the world comes to a frosted standstill, and you spend a lazy morning with Sylus under fuzzy blankets and the warmth of the fireplace.

You don’t know how you ended up in this position. You’d gone straight to bed after returning from Linkon– a mere hour of slumber until you woke up breathless, heart racing from the shadows conjured by your own mind. You crept downstairs, hoping to find solace in the company of others. Of course, Sylus is still awake. “Can’t sleep?” He turns down the volume of the boxing match on the television, so you can settle in peacefully at his side. You stare listlessly at the violent match on the screen, listening to his peaceful humming, until you fall back asleep.

But come morning, you’ve woken up with your legs tangled in his. Wrapped in each other’s arms, his chest rises and falls against yours, your head tucked under his chin as his breath lands right against your ear.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Sylus in a deep slumber. You’ve fallen asleep countless times in his company, often waking up in your bedroom, carried back by him at some point while you were unconscious. Your heart flutters at the trust he’s shown you, but it also aches. It confuses you more as to where you stand. You know his heart still belongs to the hunter— there’s no doubt about it, with the grief that filled his eyes at the mention of her name, as he told you of the tragedy that befell them.

But at the same time, you’ve toed the fragile boundaries of your relationship far too much for you to be called just friends. In moments like these, a part of you foolishly believes that maybe you could occupy his heart, take things further without restraint. But neither of you take a step towards confronting it, just living in this in-between of not just friends, not just coworkers, but not lovers in any sense.

You breathe in his scent and painstakingly pull yourself away, trying your best not to disturb him. You can no longer deny how much you want this, how much you want him. You yearn to wake up everyday pressed against his warmth, arms wrapped around each other with distance being non-existent. But a larger part of you, the one with a sense of self-preservation, also knows this won’t lead to anywhere good. And so, you slip away in the early hours of the morning and decide never to speak of it again. Instead, you ponder over your place in his life— and how long it’ll be yours.

—————————————————————

Almost a year has passed since your arrival, and you’ve grown more accustomed to the harsh edges of your new job. It’s not exactly what you had envisioned for yourself. You had once hoped to start somewhere more in line with your aspiring career, somewhere you could make use of your degree. But as you’ve learned, plans don’t always work out. What you do is unorthodox, but it’s fulfilling and allows you to live in this dangerous world from a safe vantage point, almost like dipping your toes into a ten feet pool.

That doesn’t mean you’re completely sheltered from all the dangers of the job, however. Given the type of clientele you handle, more often than not, you’re faced with threats of being maimed over the phone when you can’t give somebody what they want. Each time, Sylus promptly takes over and matches their energy twicefold with a more heinous, yet very real threat.

The worst days are post-missions, when you have to witness your newfound family return bloody and bruised in the name of defending Onychinus. Anxiety fills your mind on the days of their missions, and you become conditioned to waiting with a first aid kit and a change of clothes for Luke and Kieran, patching up their wounds as soon as they step through the front door. But Sylus— you’d think he was invincible, with how he returns from even the most high-risk operations without a scratch.

That is, until one night when he walks through the front door, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. His evol is working overtime to knit his skin back together, but the blood still pools beneath him on the marble tile.

It's early January, almost a year since your arrival into this world. But you vividly remember the injuries that plagued you those first months, and the struggle to take care of yourself— washing your hair with a broken shoulder, eating your food with a fractured wrist. Most of all, you remember the loneliness of your hospital room. How you secretly sought his company; because despite your fear, his visits were better than the loud silence that filled your days.

Sylus has been in this business for decades, has probably been injured like this far too many times to count. You think to yourself— how often has he had to go to sleep caked in blood, far too tired to care for himself? How many times has he faced the aching loneliness after a mission gone wrong?

So, you resolve to stick by him despite his insistence that he can handle it. You know his injuries will only linger for another day at most, but still, you survey him with a keen eye, spotting the flinch of his shoulders when he tries to reach for the painkillers on his shelf. You clock the injury even if he hasn’t mentioned the pain– and it leads to you sitting by the edge of the tub, washing his hair for him.

“I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” He shrugs you off, his words less biting than he intended under the influence of his medication, “This is nothing new to me.”

“I know very well how capable you are, but it doesn’t mean you have to take care of yourself alone.” You pester him some more, and he begrudgingly hands you his shampoo. You squeeze out a dollop and gently run the foam through his hair, thoroughly covering every spot. You hold back a giggle; he looks like a tamed lion, eyes shut in bliss as you massage the sides of his head.

When he comes out of the bathroom, robed and bandaged, he’s just about ready to knock out. You stay by his side through the night as he recovers, listening to hitched breaths and deluded murmurs about a time long past. The whisper of an ever-so-familiar name. The analog clock ticks every second, and it only solidifies the knowledge that your time by his side is limited. Things have been going far too well; but soon enough, your world will be upended again.

You grip his hand in yours throughout the night. But it’s not your hand to hold.

—————————————————————

The prophecy fulfills itself on the tenth day of January, marking a year since you first entered this world. The whole base knows exactly what day it is, and you feel them handling you with more care, treating you like a bomb about to detonate. It bothers you. It’s not as if you’re made out of glass (even if you feel you’re about to shatter at any moment). On your break, you decide to leave for the rooftop for a brief reprieve.

When you return, the phone rings, and it’s as if god has chosen to send a punchline your way.

You wish you didn’t answer the phone. You wish you didn’t speak to the business associate who held the information Sylus was apparently desperate for. You wish you didn’t have to inform him of the cryptic news. You wish you weren’t there in the office when an underling comes to deploy the intel. Because it only confirmed what you knew all along was coming: a hunter with a protocore in her heart.

Her picture is projected in a hologram, and somehow, you automatically know it’s her. It’s uncanny, how alike the two of you look. From the corner of your eye, you even see Sylus do a double-take as the image fully renders. Maybe if the situation was different, you would’ve wondered at the physics of it all. Maybe you would have been more hungry to understand the science behind how you ended up here, to understand the connection between you and the hunter. But your curiosity has been overshadowed by heartbreak.

You know what’s coming. You know the end of your time here is nearing. The past year has lulled you into a false sense of security, one you desperately tried to believe in— but you can’t. You’re no longer the glass half-full kind of person you once were. Life chewed you up and spat you out to fend for yourself in this new world, and you know your hopes will only get crushed. Because seeing the longing and disbelief in his eyes, as he comes to terms with his lover being within reach; it only cements the fact that you have no chance. Never had a chance.

(Already, you can feel a love that was never yours slipping from your grasp.)

You feel the change in the air the next few days, and you’re suffocated by it. You find yourself growing lonelier; this compound never seemed so large and empty before. Luke and Kieran become busier than ever, collecting information on the hunter while going about their usual responsibilities. Even Mephisto is out on the field, with the new task of following (or rather, stalking) his new target.

Sylus has sent the headquarters into a frenzy for this woman— but you? He has you go about as usual. No extra responsibilities, like he wants you to remain untouched by the business of his past love. (It’s far too late for that.) Rather, it seems he’s actively seeking you out. On days where he isn’t spent with the task of balancing his search with his regular Onychinus duties, he seems to gravitate towards you, looking for any excuse to be in your company.

But you? You try desperately to avoid him. You sneak around him like a mouse in a cat’s territory, stepping around glass and limiting your interactions to work, treating him with an amicable professionalism. It's like a cold glass of water has been poured over him. Even when you two were no better than strangers, you had never treated him so clinically. You can tell he’s hurt and confused by your behavior, but you shove down the guilt— because this is what you need to do to protect your heart.

At some point, he eventually manages to catch you, pulling you aside with the ominous words no one wants to hear, “Dear, I think we should talk.”

Your eyes well up in tears but you try your best to blink it away. It’s one thing to know, another to be confronted by it. The knowledge that what you have can’t continue is already ruining you, and you think you might break if he voices into existence. “What's there to talk about? What you’ve always wanted is almost in your hands.”

Sylus flinches at the total defeat in your voice. He can feel that you’re putting up boundaries with him— ones that he should’ve held in place, with how his heart is already taken by another. But little by little you crept into his life, into his heart, carving your place in it. And now, he doesn’t know what to do with the pain of you closing yourself off from him.

But like always, you smile and try to soften the blow, “It’s okay, Sylus. I'm happy for you. I mean it,” You lie through your teeth. Despite how much pain this forced happiness inflicts on you, you will never have it in you to purposefully hurt him.

—————————————————————

Over the span of a year, you had become one of Sylus's closest confidants. He treats you with all the gentleness and care in the world, revealing to you softer sides of him— ones that you knew existed in the game, and ones that you discovered for yourself. You feel honored that he trusts you with these facets of himself, but you also feel a tremendous guilt.

Because what Sylus doesn’t know is that he was your favorite. Facing burnout in your final year of university, you began to cope with a game suggested to you, becoming engrossed with one of its newest characters. He'd drawn you to him with his soft treatment of the main character, juxtaposed with his violent nature and line of work. Your heart had fluttered at every tender moment, each call and text message, each appearance in the main story. You had passingly indulged in the delusions of romance with a fictional man, a small part of your day to cope with the struggles of your reality.

When you landed in this world, there was a cognitive dissonance as you came to terms with the difference between the 2D character that lived on your phone screen and the living, breathing person in front of you. For a long time, you were too focused on your new situation to even think of the implications of your fictional crush being in close, real proximity. He hadn’t trusted you, either. You could feel his suspicion in each interaction, as he contemplated what to make of you.

At the time, you thought that by now, surely you would have woken up from this coma-induced hallucination already. Surely you would have woken back up in your reality. But as you grew to accept that the situation you’re in is as real as the blood that runs through your veins, came to terms with the likelihood that you may be stuck there for the foreseeable future— before you knew it, he had crept into your heart.

You don’t know when it started. All you know is that his presence in your life is more than the surface-level distraction it once was in your reality. No, Sylus— the living person who offered you a place in this world, who indulged you in your lowest moments, who makes your heart race like no other— has you wrapped around his finger. He could ask anything of you, and your heart could do nothing but surrender to his whims.

But in the back of your head, always lurking, is the distant reminder of the main character. The vivacious hunter whose life is tied to his. The other half of his soul. She looms in the background of every moment, a constant reminder of what you cannot have. There’s no chance you could ever come between something destined by the universe itself, so you yield in the face of their cosmic love. You shove away your feelings and resign yourself to finding a way back home, desperately, before this world forces you to lose a love you never even had.

—————————————————————

What you don’t know is that he’s desperately blocking off every potential lead back to your world, not wanting to face a reality where you are not in his life.

He finds himself conflicted, because his soul is tied to her. His sorcerer now reborn as the hunter, his soulmate, the one he has yearned for for what feels like a millenia. But here you are, his lovely secretary, the woman who forces him into mundane festivities and stays by his side for all his highs and all his lows. His love for his soulmate was forged in fire and blood; but this? This new love is bathed under golden light, born out of mutual care and an unexpected connection.

He has tried to keep his thoughts loyal and true to the love he has been seeking for centuries— but he can no longer deny the pull he feels towards you. The two images war in his head; the dragon roaring at how distracted he’s become from searching for his mate, and the man, falling fast and hard for a woman from another world, brought to him by pure fate.

His search for his long-lost love continues, but alongside it are his attempts to tie you down to his world, to keep you in his grasp. Because he cannot, will not, live without you.

He will watch the world burn before he lets it take another love away from him again.

—————————————————————

It all comes to a head when you hear a familiar voice raging through the corridors, wrecking a storm through the compound as she is brought here unwillingly. Sylus and the twins coming back with the hunter— bloody and bruised from her disastrous entry into the N109 Zone. Here it is. Your time is up.

For two people who are often so shamelessly true to themselves, both you and Sylus are the type whose true feelings are never encapsulated by mere words, whose eyes speak more of their soul than sentences ever could. Knowing this, you avoid his eyes. You shield your hurt in forced happiness, as he hides his internal conflict behind a cold veneer.

The two of you continue in this cycle of push and pull, of moving closer but not close enough. You live in a limbo, desperately searching for ways to get home before the main storyline catches up to you. Haunted by the narrative, you two move in and out of each other’s orbit, just out of reach. Just out of bounds.

—————————————————————

for any reveluvs here, i listened to night drive the whole time i was writing the motorcycle scene<33 (for non-reveluvs u should go check it out its an absolute banger) also, SYLUS’S BDAY MEMORY 🥹 his bday scene in the previous chapter is no longer canon-compliant considering the event story… (like UGH ofc this man never told anyone 😩) but i do find it funny how in this story the reader is the one who hides it from him; taste of his own medicine LOL. i headcanon that she remembered his bday from the game and shocked him to his bones when he saw the exact date plotted on their calendar

feel free to dm/comment on the series masterlist if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist 💕

taglist — @mangooes @mentaltrouble2201 @animegamerfox @crazy-ink-artist @phisen @jeondyy @t4naiis @wifunozomi @munimunni @blessdunrest @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @paintedperidot @mansonofmadness @pillarofsnow @sylususeyourevolonmepls @angelichiaro @mephisto-with-a-knife @crimsonmarabou @hikaru-sama @flamedancer13 @tati-the-fangirl @ameili @poptrim @caramelizedpopcirn @cupid-gene @vvonunie @lunia-likes-pomegranet @iamawkwardandshy @tinyweebsstuff @astolary @vyntheria @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @velourmobius @beaconsxd @hon3yydew @kira-loves0905 @codedove @that-lost-one @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @kaiii07 @bohoooitsme @everythingistaken00 @rmjace @red-raf-sy @goddexxluv @seris-the-amious @stellisangelicus-world @alhaith4ms @young-adult-summer @junrui

comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

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zvaigzdelasas · 3 months ago

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In late January, our organization [DAWN - Democracy for the Arab World Now] which works to reform US foreign policy in the Middle East, filed a 172-page legal brief to the International Criminal Court urging it to investigate former President Joe Biden, former Secretary of State Antony Blinken, and former Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin for aiding and abetting war crimes, crimes against humanity, starvation, and genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. The court has already charged the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, and the former defense minister, Yoav Gallant, for committing these same crimes. Seeking the prosecution of US officials in the only global criminal court was not a decision we took lightly, particularly as the court faces threats from the United States itself. But the evidence against Biden, Blinken, and Austin is so overwhelming and the devastation to Palestinians so horrific that we felt it was our duty as a US-based organization to demand accountability for their crimes.

5 Mar 25

Article 25 of the Rome Statute, which governs the ICC, defines accessorial support for a crime as a crime itself. To be held liable for aiding and abetting an international crime under the Rome Statute, there must be evidence that a person has not only substantially contributed to crimes but knew such contribution would facilitate the commission of crimes.

It was not difficult to document such evidence.

Biden, Blinken, and Austin provided Israel with military, diplomatic, and public support knowing that such support would facilitate Israeli attacks on civilians, mass murder, and the deliberate deprivation of items needed for the survival of Gaza’s people. Israeli officials spoke openly about starving Palestinians as a punishment for October 7, and Israel deliberately blocked food and water from entering the territory, which now imports nearly all of its food, creating famine-like conditions.

The military support that these officials authorized was essential to Israel’s ability to carry out its atrocities. Beyond the nearly $20 billion in weapons, Israel relied on the United States to provide intelligence and targeting assistance; attack armed groups in Iraq, Syria, and Yemen; and deploy backup forces, such as US warships and planes. Without this help, Israel could not have so fully obliterated the civilian infrastructure in Gaza. In October 2023, Gallant admitted that Israel depended on US assistance for its military operations, stressing that the Israeli government “relies on them for planes and military equipment.” Other Israeli officials explained that “while Israel has its own intelligence, the United States and Britain have been able to provide intelligence from the air and cyberspace that Israel cannot collect on its own.” And when the Biden administration briefly suspended arms shipments to Israel, the Israel Defense Forces was forced to ration its use of certain munitions.

Supplying this aid to Israel was illegal under US law. Biden, Blinken, and Austin rejected the advice of their own staff to halt these weapons transfers because they violated US laws, such as sections 620I and 502B of the Foreign Assistance Act and the Leahy Law, which prohibit sending weapons to abusive forces.

Several senior State and Defense Department officials publicly resigned in protest of the Biden administration’s Israel policies. Even the Biden administration’s own report to Congress admitted that Israel had failed to comply with international laws prohibiting attacks on civilians, used US weapons to target civilians and civilian objects, and blocked humanitarian aid—including food, water, and medicine—to Gaza. Biden himself warned Israel that it was losing international support because of its “indiscriminate bombing” of Gaza.

These officials knew that Israel would use US weapons to continue its crimes, but instead of following the law and cutting off the flow of arms, they replenished and even accelerated the supply of bombs, artillery shells, mortar rounds, and missiles.

Just as important was the political support that President Biden authorized. The United States vetoed seven Security Council resolutions, including those calling for the provision of humanitarian aid, and abstained in votes for all four successful resolutions that attempted to halt or limit Israeli attacks against civilians. This was coupled with Biden’s, Blinken’s, and Austin’s public justifications of Israeli atrocities—when they sometimes amplified falsehoods, about, for instance, beheaded babies or mass rape, designed to incite rage against Palestinians and neutralize public opposition to US support for Israel. Without the resolute backing of these three US officials, the international community may have been able to order Israel to abide by a ceasefire and halt the bloodletting under threat of sanctions.

Urging the ICC to investigate US officials is a politically fraught undertaking, and with the new Trump administration, it carries additional legal risks. On February 6, President Donald Trump renewed an executive order for sanctions against the ICC—an attempt to obstruct its investigation of Israeli officials. On February 13, the Treasury Department sanctioned ICC Prosecutor Karim Khan under this order, prohibiting the provision of “services” to him by US persons, which could be deemed to include the submission of evidence. Although a federal court enjoined Trump’s previous sanctions on the ICC as an unconstitutional infringement on free speech, it’s unclear whether a new court would reaffirm that finding. DAWN’s January 24 submission predated Trump’s new sanctions regime, but providing any new evidence to the court will be risky, and ICC lawyers and partner organizations have expressed fear of being hit by sanctions and other penalties themselves.

Seeking the ICC’s prosecution of US officials could also trigger a congressional backlash against the court. Though Senate Democrats succeeded in narrowly defeating a bill for much broader sanctions against the court in January, the specter of investigations against US officials may well spur a renewed effort to pass the bill.

The pressure on the court is tremendous, and its survival is at stake—and not only as a direct result of its chief prosecutor being sanctioned. If the ICC fails to prosecute those responsible for the crimes in Gaza because of political pressure, it will lose what credibility it retains and reaffirm the view that it exists merely to prosecute culprits deemed acceptable to the United States—to date, nearly all Black Africans—thereby instigating a stampede of withdrawals from Global South member states. If it continues to prosecute not just indicted Israeli officials but US ones for the genocide in Gaza, the United States will undoubtedly demand that its allies—like the United Kingdom, Germany, Japan, and France, which provide the bulk of the court’s funding—abandon their membership in the court as well, just as it is now demanding that they refuse to enforce the court’s arrest warrants against Netanyahu and Gallant should they visit their countries.

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viaxslz · 2 months ago

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·　　₊　 Ⳋ I CAN’T HANDLE CHANGE ꒷.

享受 ! .°. ݁₊ 𐙚 f!reader (idk gender is really specified), cw: ceo x secretary, mention of an oc (Jiwon), attempt at crack in between not proofread :P, 1.2K WC

Masterlist

When you walked into Hyunjin’s office that morning with a somber expression, he didn’t expect to feel the sudden heaviness that dropped in his chest. He had barely taken a sip of his morning americano when you quietly announced you’d be taking a short leave to take care of your sick mother. It wasn’t forever. You’d be back in a week or two, depending on how things went. You promised to keep him updated, and you even emailed a full, color-coded schedule for the next ten workdays, complete with notes, reminders, backup documents, and even motivational post-it messages for when things inevitably went wrong.

Hyunjin blinked at you for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly, not trusting himself to say much.

“Alright,” he said after a beat, trying to sound neutral, professional. “Family comes first. Take all the time you need.”

You smiled softly at him, and he returned it, even if his felt tight around the edges. When you left that afternoon after wrapping up the day's work, he sat in his chair staring at your now empty desk outside his office, wondering why the thought of not seeing you for a few days made him feel so off-kilter. It’s not like he liked you. That would be completely inappropriate. You were his secretary. A very good one. Efficient, organized, smart, annoyingly intuitive about his moods. That was it. Just a secretary. A very competent, extremely capable, incredibly witty, irritatingly cute—

He cut himself off with a grunt and tossed a pen across his desk.

—

The next morning, the substitute secretary arrived. Hyunjin had been assured by HR that they found someone “just as qualified” as you, someone with experience and a calm demeanor. Her name was Jiwon, and she seemed nice enough. On paper. She walked in ten minutes late, introduced herself with a chirpy tone that made his eye twitch, and proceeded to unpack a Hello Kitty stapler, three pink gel pens, and a very large mirror from her tote bag.

Hyunjin stared. Then blinked. Then stared some more.

To be fair, Jiwon wasn’t bad at her job. She just wasn’t you. And that, unfortunately, meant that everything began falling apart.

The first thing to go wrong was the meeting schedule. You always arranged everything with precision. Hyunjin never had to check twice. But now? His Monday meeting with the marketing team was double-booked with the finance review, and instead of his 2 PM lunch with a client, he was dragged into a Zoom call with someone named Gerald who kept calling him "Mr. Huang" and asking him about stock investments in Albania.

The second thing to go wrong was the coffee. You always knew how he liked it. half sweet, no foam, two shots of espresso, slightly less ice, stirred counterclockwise, and served in his black mug with the little red crown on the side. Jiwon brought him iced vanilla lattes. With whipped cream. In a cup with a paper sleeve that said “Slay Queen.”

The third thing…well, by the time they reached the third thing, Hyunjin had a headache. And not the usual, manageable kind. No, this was the I-miss-my-secretary-and-the-world-is-burning kind. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was spiraling. The office looked the same. Functioned the same, technically. But something was off. You were the glue that held everything together, and now it felt like the glue had melted and everything was sliding into a chaotic pit of doom.

One morning, Hyunjin walked into the office, sat down at his desk, and stared blankly at the screen. The company’s quarterly review was that afternoon, but the numbers on the slide deck didn’t make sense. You always prepped the data for him, color-coded the charts, and wrote notes in the margins with little jokes to keep him awake during meetings. Now, all he had was a spreadsheet and a sad little sticky note that said “You got this, boss!” with a winky face.

He slumped in his chair. “I don’t got this.”

Jiwon poked her head in a second later. “Did you call me, Mr. Hwang?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Oh. Okay. By the way, there’s a guy named Gerald waiting on Zoom again. I think he’s in Albania.”

Hyunjin slammed his head gently against the desk.

By the end of the week, everyone had noticed. He was moodier. Snappier. His tie was crooked two days in a row. He accidentally wore mismatched socks. During one staff meeting, he nearly burst into laughter halfway through a very serious presentation because he remembered how you once drew cat ears on his financial report when he wasn’t looking. He missed your weird little habits, like humming when you typed, or sticking post-its on his lunch container with puns like “lettuce meet deadlines today” and “you’re egg-cellent.”

He was in denial about it, of course. Anytime someone asked if he was okay, he’d wave them off with a grumble and mutter something about seasonal allergies or being behind on sleep. What he would never admit was that he had started checking his inbox way too often just to see if you’d emailed an update. When he finally received a short message from you that Friday afternoon, saying your mom was doing better and you’d likely return the following Monday, he nearly stood up and cheered. Instead, he calmly replied, “Glad to hear it. Take your time. Let me know if you need anything.” Then he stared at the screen for another five minutes and whispered, “Please come back before this place burns down.”

Monday came like a blessing. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. He even managed to tie his tie correctly on the first try. And when you finally walked into the office, tote bag in one hand and your usual iced coffee in the other, Hyunjin swore he heard a heavenly choir somewhere in the distance.

You beamed at him like you always did, setting your things down at your desk and immediately pulling out a notepad.

“Alright, what did I miss?” you asked brightly.

He looked at you for a long moment, then leaned against the doorway of his office.

“How much time do you have?”

You blinked, a little wary now. “That bad?”

“Let’s just say Gerald might have bought stock in our name. Also, there’s whipped cream in my soul.”

You snorted, clearly confused but entertained. “What?”

“Don’t leave again,” he said, too fast and too serious.

You raised a brow. “Hyunjin…”

He cleared his throat. “I mean. If you do. Give me a week’s notice. So I can mentally prepare. Or maybe just… take me with you next time.”

Your laughter was loud enough that a few interns turned to look. Hyunjin didn’t even mind. He was just happy to hear that sound again. To see your post-its appear one by one around his office. To have his coffee taste right and his schedule make sense and his thoughts stop spiraling every time he walked past your desk.

Maybe it was inappropriate. Maybe it was bordering on ridiculous how much he’d missed you. But when he caught your eye later that afternoon and you gave him that small smile the one you reserved for private jokes and quiet moments he realized something.

The office wasn’t the only thing that felt out of sync without you. He was, too.

And now that you were back, the world made sense again.

Even Gerald.

Kind of.

PERM TAGLIST 📌🔖 ──── @the-sea-called-history02 @oc3anfloor

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids soft hours #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #·　　₊　 Ⳋ DIE FOR YOU ꒷.#stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x female reader #hyunjin x female reader

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thewertsearch · 4 months ago

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GT: Well ive thought about it. GT: Even went downstairs to check the great vaulty doodad. GT: And predictably the infernal contraption is nowhere to be found. TT: Well yeah, Jake. TT: That's sort of the point. TT: Thrill of the hunt and all.

Ok, I think I get what's going on here.

Jake's Dreambot is probably the last remaining source of uranium on the entire island, and the AR is turning its retrieval into a game of hide-and-seek.

I'm not sure why Jake hadn't already retrieved this particular chunk of uranium, especially since he has no use for the robot himself. Maybe he was keeping it operational for sentimental reasons?

TT: I thought you liked to manicure the image of a dude who shits his pants over a good adventure. […] GT: I mean i wouldnt put it in a way like that or come out against a solid policy of clean trousers. But yes adventure is awesome. GT: I just prefer the idea of adventures which i can actually win.

Jake's picturing a LIVING GRANDSON SMACKDOWN - and, frankly, so am I. That robot's being piloted by an absurdly advanced AI, and I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't have any combat experience.

Winning, in this case, is shorthand for 'waiting for the AR to take pity on you'.

TT: It seems there is a 76.10395784% chance you are pussying out on me. Are you pussying out on me, Jake?

Now, to be fair, that one would only work if Jake had agreed to this challenge beforehand. After all, you can't pussy out of something you never pussied into.

GT: It seems it seems it seems!!! GT: It seems there is a million percent chance that you say it seems way too much and do it just to sound more like a lame robot from a movie and also probably just to piss me off! […] TT: Have you ever stopped to think that while I may be bound to processes inside the glasses of a real and incredibly cool guy, my algorithms in cognitive totality comprise a conscious entity not far short of the experiential and emotional complexity of a human being? GT: Oh malarkey. GT: YOU ARE A TIN CAN. ROBOTS DONT HAVE FEELINGS.

Jake, it's been sixty seconds since you complained about him pretending not to have feelings.

TT: I do have feelings. And you're shitting on them. TT: It sucks. GT: Oh. GT: Um. GT: Im sorry then if thats the case.

Well, that's something, at least - but I don't think Jake really understands why the AR is offended, so I'm worried it's just going to happen again in their next argument.

How long has the Responder existed for, anyway? Jake seems familiar with his schtick, so he's probably not brand-new - but at the same time, Jake's surprised apology makes it sound like the AR has only recently started to express feelings.

Maybe the AR has existed for years, but hasn't been sentient for years. Like, it really did just start as a primitive response script, but Bro kept uploading more of his personality onto it, until it slowly began to think and feel. Fascinating idea, I have to say.

GT: It can just be difficult to drum up sympathy for a program that presents itself as an impostor so often. GT: Maybe if you werent so ready to insist you were the genuine article all the time? Or didnt make it so confusing for me… GT: I think it would be best if we henceforth treated you as a totally distinct… uh… THING from my buddy.

Hey, it's not like the AR can stop imitating Bro. Even if he wanted to have his own identity, he's currently bound to the response script of someone else's Pesterchum account. When he talks, he's forced to do it through Bro's handle.

All evidence points to the Responder being a thinking, feeling being with his own inner world - which makes it a little ethically dubious to force him to be Bro's secretary. The guy shouldn't be treated as a bargain-bin Bro, the same way that Davesprite wasn't a backup Dave. We all saw how that ended, and it sure wasn't pretty.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 6 #s184 #4191

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flickering-chandelier · 1 year ago

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To Love a Beast

Pairing: Mob Boss Azriel x Secretary Reader

Summary: Azriel comes back bloody from a job, and Reader is there to help stitch him up, even though he snapped at her and hurt her feelings earlier. Her gentle touch makes Azriel see her in a new light, until he can’t think of anything else.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: smut, blood, brief allusions to violence (guns & knives briefly mentioned), swearing, Azriel being an asshole

Word Count: 3k

Azriel picked up his pistol and tucked it into his jacket, the last of a fully loaded arsenal hidden beneath his clothing. He could feel your eyes on him from your desk, the light illuminating the book on your lap, your pink dress nearly glowing in the dim light.

“Wait,” you said as he was about to leave. He turned back, surprised, as you stepped right up to him and straightened his jacket, your touch lingering just a little too long, your big doe eyes looking up at him from under your lashes. “You shouldn’t be going alone.”

He scoffed. “I can handle it,” he said gruffly.

You put your hands on your hips, glaring up at him and Azriel almost laughed. “I’m serious. You don’t know what you’re walking into. It could be an ambush.”

Azriel leaned down menacingly, looking right into your eyes, the exact way he looked at the people he was about to kill. “Sweetheart, why don’t you stick to your job, and I’ll stick to mine, alright?”

Reeling back slightly like you had been physically attacked, you narrowed your eyes at him, clearly furious. “There’s no need to be a condescending jackass. Don’t you think I’ve been around this business long enough to know a thing or two?”

The short leash on Azriel’s temper was starting to slacken. “You’re the goddamn secretary. You don’t tell me what to do,” he barked.

“I’m not telling you what to do,” you said, a fire lighting in your eyes that he had never before seen. “I’m suggesting that if you don’t want to die, you should bring backup-”

“Enough,” he roared.

You recoiled, shrinking back behind your desk. Tears brimmed your eyes as you said quietly, your voice cracking, “I was just trying to help. Believe it or not, some of us actually care if you come back alive or not.” And without another word, you walked past him, out the door.

Azriel sighed, running a hand down his face, surprised by the slight twinge of guilt in his chest at your reaction. Great. Now he would have to deal with that in the morning.

Cursing, Azriel limped inside the dark office, holding the gash in his side with bloody knuckles. You had been right. The target knew he was coming, and had a whole gang of minions ready to attack Azriel. If he hadn’t been so damn good at his job, he’d be dead for sure.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when you peaked your head out from under the desk.

“What the fuck. Why are you hiding under there?” he yelled.

“I forgot my book,” you said, your voice clearly edged with worry as your eyes trailed over him. “Looks like you ran into more than you bargained for.”

“What, you want me to tell you that you were right, and I was wrong?” he seethed through clenched teeth.

“It would be nice,” you mused, back to your normal self after he had snapped at you. He was thankful for that, at least. “Sit,” you said, nodding to the armchair.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he snapped again, unable to reign in his temper.

You looked hurt for a moment before you masked it. “Fine. Bleed out, then.”

As you turned toward the door, Azriel cursed under his breath and slumped into the chair. “Wait. Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

You paused, turning back to face him, your eyes narrowed as you studied him. “Thank you,” you said quietly, before pulling out the heavy duty first aid kit from the bottom drawer of your desk and turning the overhead lights on, illuminating the space, and the blood on him.

Pulling up a chair next to him, you surveyed the injuries you could see. “What’s the worst of it?” you asked.

Slowly, he pulled his hand away from his side, where he had been slashed with one of the cronies’ knives.

“Shit,” you said quietly, standing up to gingerly help him out of his suit jacket. Then you stood in front of him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders. He watched your fingers work in steady, sure movements.

He noticed you swallow hard as your gaze raked down his exposed chest and a smug satisfaction coursed through him. In all the years that you had been working for his family, you had never been the one to help patch him up after a job.

Gingerly, you started cleaning the gash with a damp towel, wiping the blood away so you could clearly see how deep the cut went. Azriel reigned in a hiss at the contact, clenching his fists, determined not to make a sound. “Doesn’t look too bad,” you said finally. “I think I should be able to patch it without any stitches.”

Azriel was thankful for that, thankful for how gentle your touch was, how soft your fingertips were as they moved with purpose across his skin. He was mesmerized, watching you work, your lips pursed, your brow furrowed in concentration.

“I wasn’t expecting you to still be here after you walked out,” he said gruffly, needing to distract himself from your fingers before his mind wandered too far.

“I wouldn’t have walked out if you hadn’t scolded me like I’m a child,” you said with a certain bite to your voice he was not accustomed to, as you delicately taped gauze to his skin, sealing in the wound.

“I wouldn’t have scolded you if you wouldn’t have acted like a little know it all,” he countered.

You looked up at him then, that fire in your eyes burning brighter than he had ever seen it. It knocked the breath right out of his lungs. “I was right though, wasn’t I?” You said quietly, boldly raising your eyebrow in question.

Heat ran right through him at that look in your eye, at the boldness that it took to speak to him that way. He found himself wondering how he had never noticed it before, how brave, how valuable you were.

How beautiful you were, he thought, as his eyes trailed down from your big beautiful eyes, down your neck, your hair spilling down your shoulders, down to the tiny bit of cleavage poking out from your dress, your hips that the dress hugged just right, your long legs that were somehow folded in a ladylike position despite the task at hand.

He cleared his throat suddenly. “Can you clean up the gash on my forehead? I don’t like getting blood in my eyes.”

You smiled at him, knowing that he was unwilling to acknowledge that you had won. It made him even more attracted to you.

Azriel took a steadying breath as you left him alone for a moment to get another wet towel. When you came back you dabbed at the cut above his left eye, more gently than he would have thought possible. He watched your eyes, your lips, your throat as you worked.

“I am glad you’re okay, you know,” you said so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and caught your wrist in his hand, stilling your movements, forcing your gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry I made you cry,” he said as gently as he had ever said anything. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You swallowed, and Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement. “I didn’t think you cared,” you said quietly.

He winced slightly. “To be honest with you, I didn’t think I did either… but, I do.”

Your eyes dipped to his lips for the slightest moment before you cleared your throat and pulled away slightly. Azriel let his hand drop from yours as you continued to clean the cut on his forehead.

As he watched you, his gaze snagging on your lips, his mind wandered to all those years that you had been there, sitting at that desk, a steady presence, always there for whatever needed to be done. He had never noticed before how integral you were in his life, and he felt like the most foolish kind of asshole for never noticing how perfect you were.

For years, he barely paid attention to you, and now he really felt like if he couldn’t kiss you, he might die.

The two of you remained silent as you placed gauze on the cut, then surveyed him again, gingerly pulling his hand into your lap and cleaning his bloody knuckles. Your skin, the fabric of your dress, was so soft against his callused, scarred hand, and his fingers flexed where they rested in your lap. He marveled at how you took such care to be gentle, even after everything he had said and done that night.

“There,” you said quietly, after his hands were clean, your eyes meeting his for the first time in several minutes. “All better.”

“Almost,” he smirked. “Still hurts like hell.”

“What, you want me to kiss it better?” You said sarcastically, smiling.

Azriel raised his eyebrows. “I think that might help.”

You stilled, holding his gaze, and Azriel swore he could see the battle in your mind, whether to walk away or take him up on it just to be a smartass. He desperately hoped you would pick the latter.

When he saw your eyes spark with challenge, he knew what you would do.

Agonizingly slowly, you brought his hand up to your lips, not breaking eye contact with him. You pressed a feather light kiss across his knuckles, and the touch went all the way through him, tingling into his toes.

“Where else does it hurt?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He swallowed, then lightly ran his index finger along the cut on his forehead.

You stood, your eyes locked on his as you slowly, gently placed your hands on both of his cheeks, tilting his face up before brushing a kiss to his forehead, your eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment as your lips graced his skin.

It took everything in him to keep his hands at his sides, to not grab your hips and pull you down on top of him.

Pulling back to look at him again, you raised your eyebrow. A silent question. A new dance you were both learning the steps to in tandem.

He didn’t think he was breathing as he took your hand in his and guided it to the bandage on his abdomen.

Your eyes sparked again as you sank to your knees in front of him. He felt his need for you growing at the sight, at the thought of what else you could be doing on your knees like that.

You looked up at him from under your lashes, as you leaned forward, kissing a line across the bandage and over his skin.

He caught your chin as you moved to pull away, guiding you back to him. You smiled faintly before dropping your eyes to his chest, peppering light kisses across his abs.

After you pulled away, you stayed on your knees, looking up at him expectantly.

Azriel frankly thought that he had been showing remarkable restraint up until this point, and he didn’t think he could handle it anymore. Your name came out as a growl as he took your face in his hands and pulled you up, settling you on his lap, straddling him, before he brought your mouth to his.

Immediately you melted into him, pressing your body fully against his. One of Azriel’s hands slid down to your waist, the other coming behind your neck, lightly stroking his thumb down, making you shiver.

You wound your hands into his hair, groaning into his mouth, and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking up into yours, his hand trailing down to grip your ass lightly through your dress for a moment, before moving back down to your thigh, sneaking up underneath your dress, his thumb tracing the edge of your panties.

“Azriel,” you moaned, throwing your head back, and he immediately moved his lips to your neck, kissing gently before nipping with his teeth. You gasped, tightening your grip on his hair and he groaned into your skin.

Gently, he wrapped a hand around your throat, capturing your lips with his, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he continued tracing the outline of your underwear.

You began to rock your hips against him, and he couldn't take it anymore, had never wanted anybody so badly in his life.

He tugged your panties to the side, running his thumb along your entrance. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You're so wet for me, sweetheart.”

Whimpering, your head slumped forward, resting on his shoulder as he slowly slid a finger into you. You dug your fingers into his biceps, moving against his hand.

“You want more, baby?” He murmured, his mouth at your ear.

You nodded into his shoulder.

“I'm going to need you to say it,” he teased, grazing his teeth down your neck.

Groaning, your face still buried in his neck, you said quietly into his skin, “I want more.”

“That's my girl,” he said, smacking your ass as he slid another finger inside you, quickly pumping in and out.

You practically screamed when he curled his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. You finally held your head up, grabbing his wrist, looking at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “If you don't stop, I'm gonna--”

Azriel smirked, not slowing his rhythm. “Come? You're gonna come for me?”

Biting your lip, you didn't respond.

“It's okay baby, you can come. That's what you want, isn't it?” He said sweetly.

You nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

He took your throat in his hand again, forcing you to look at him. “Look at me when I make you come,” he growled.

And that was enough to send you over the edge. You did as you were told, looking right into his eyes as you screamed. He helped you through it, not stopping his movements until you were slumped against him.

He gently ran his hands through your hair, soothingly down your back as you caught your breath.

When you looked back up at him expectantly, his heart swelled. “You ready to call it a night?” He asked.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “Absolutely not.”

“Good,” he smirked, standing up and taking you with him, his arms wrapped around your waist, carrying you like it was nothing. You shrieked as he picked you up and giggled when he strode across the room and set you on the desk.

You parted your legs and he stepped in between them, sliding your sleeves down your shoulders, pushing your dress all the way down to your waist. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the floor.

Clinging to his bare shoulders, you were gasping as he took your breasts in his hands, circling your nipple with his thumb.

Suddenly, he pulled you off the desk so you were standing, and pushed your dress down, making it fall to the floor, before ripping your panties in half, and dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Azriel,” you gasped.

“Sorry,” he said, smirking up at you, his mouth barely an inch from where he needed it to be. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

And then he was tasting you, tasting the proof of how badly you wanted him and you were moaning, leaning against the desk to keep yourself upright, your hands weaving into his hair again, pushing him deeper into you. He groaned, wrapping his hands around the backs of your knees, grounding himself.

He chuckled against you when you started squirming, your legs shaking, little whines coming out from the back of your throat.

When the strain of his length against his pants became unbearable, he stood up abruptly and you looked up at him with wide eyes before he kissed you roughly, lifting you to sit on the desk again.

He reveled in the pure lust that clouded your eyes as he undid his belt and dropped his pants to the ground in one swift movement.

You were immediately reaching for him, pulling his chest to yours, and he watched your eyes widen, your mouth fall open, as he slid inside you in one powerful thrust.

He thought he should probably wait, to give you just a moment to adjust to him, but then you gasped, your mouth against his ear, “More.”

A growl escaped from his throat and without another moment of hesitation, he was pounding into you, your moans and gasps ricocheting off the walls, spurring him on further.

“I thought I told you to stop telling me what to do,” he smirked.

“I'll stop telling you what to do when I stop being right,” you smiled.

Azriel burst out laughing, right there in the middle of the office, buried deep inside you. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed at all.

He marveled at you, this beautiful, brilliant, funny woman, and suddenly could hardly remember a time when he wasn't head over heels for you.

Leaning his forehead against yours for a moment, kissing your lips, he said, “You're incredible, you know that?”

You cupped his cheek with a hand, smiling. “It's about time you figured it out, boss.”

He groaned, leaning back and wrapping your hair around his fist, pulling down gently to expose your neck, to watch your every reaction as he thrusted into you again and again.

It wasn't long until he was close, and he could tell from your panting, your shaking legs, that you were close too.

“Are you going to come for me again?” He murmured, still holding your hair. You nodded, and he pressed on, speeding up his pace. “Yeah? You're gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

You moaned and he smirked, his hips moving in increasingly jerky movements until you tightened around him, crying out, clinging to him.

He came right after, burying his face in your neck and riding out the high with you.

Azriel cupped your face in his hands and kissed you softly. You smiled at him as he pulled on his boxers, then he helped you get dressed, smirking as you picked up the ruined underwear.

“You just had to rip them off, didn't you?” You teased, tossing them at him.

He shrugged, straightening one of your sleeves. “Maybe you should learn your lesson and not wear any next time.”

“To work?”

“My place,” he smirked, taking your hand and pulling your body into his before he kissed you again. “I'll make dinner, tell you how smart and beautiful you are, and then rip your clothes off.”

You smiled, glancing down at your hand interlocked with his before meeting his eyes again. “Sounds like a plan.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @melmo567 @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @headacheseason @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

746 notes · View notes

skzstarl0ver · 25 days ago

Note

When will you be making a masterlist 🤔❤️

⛧°。 ⋆ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ⋆ 。 °⛧

Stray kids: "𝑬𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒔, 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏" -

reader x stray kids ot8 / smut / tension / bit angst, fluff / slow burn **involves!!** cursing, sex, dirty talk, multiple partners

Bangchan: "𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈, 𝐼 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊" -

Bangchan x Reader / possessive! bangchan / smut **involves!!** intense sexual tension, dirty talk, possessive behavior, lots of teasing/flirting, public setting, hallway make-out/fingering, cursing, getting caught

"♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ Playback moans ♫♪♩·.¸¸.·♩♪♫" -

Bangchan x reader / in the studio / straight up smut / kinky! Chan **involves!!** cursing, dirty talk, recording kink, detailed sex, fingering, loud moaning, strong sexual tension, multiple rounds, eating out, strong language, raw sex, filling up, SMUT (≧∇≦)

──★ ˙🇵🇪🇷🇸🇴🇳🇦🇱 🇹🇷🇦🇮🇳🇪🇷 🇵🇷🇴🇧🇱🇪🇲🇸 ̟ !!

Bangchan x reader / personal trainer x gym girl / smut / dom!chan **Involves!!** cursing, dirty talk, strong language, tension, inappropriare touch, sex, multiple rounds, sex in 'public places', detailed smut part

Lee Know: "☆*: .｡. Office hours .｡.:*☆" -

Lee know x reader / Teacher x student / age gap /smut / one shot **Involves!!** age gap, illegal relationship, inappropriate touch, dirty talk, sex in public / school, cursing

"˜”°•.˜”°• Rivals with benefits •°”˜.•°"

Lee know x reader / enemies to lovers / secret relationship / smut / emotional confession **involves!!** cursing, tension, sex, praise kink, rough/soft dynamic, emotional tension, dirty talk

⋅˚₊‧ ୨𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Lee know x reader / grump x sunshine / roomates to lovers / smut (a bit fluff) **involves!!** sex, dirty talk, tension, strong language, detailed smut part, cursing, eating out

Changbin: "𝙂𝙮𝙢 𝘽𝙧𝙤" -

Changbin x reader / friends to lovers / jealous! Changbin/ smut and kinda fluff **involves!!** public sex, teasing, praise kink, sexual touch, dirty talk, 'you are mine' vibe

"Strictly Business" -

Changbin x reader / boss x secretary / one shot / smut / dom!changbin **involves!!** hotel room sex, forbidden realtionship, cursing, dirty talk, tension, rough but tender

Hyunjin: "𝐵𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑡" -

Hyunjin x Reader / Boyfriend / Sweet → Spicy **involves!!** dirty talk, sex, naked skin

"𝓟𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽~" -

Hyunjin x reader / Idol x Backup dancer / dom!Hyunjin / smut **involves!!** tension, orgasm, dance practice, grinding, mirror sex, filling up, dirty talk, cursing, smut with feels, raw sex, strong language, cursing, rough, SMUT

𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹 ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Hyunjin x reader / best friends to lovers / one shot / fluff, soft ♡ no warnings ♡

Han: "𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐤" -

Han Jisung x reader / Secret Relationship / co-workers / smut / one shot **involves!!** Public teasing, handjob, explicit sexual content, risky, inappropriate touch, tentsion, cursing, dirty talk

"⊹₊ 𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚝 𝙱𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 ₊ ⊹" -

Han Jisung x reader / friends to lovers / fluff / love confession / one shot ♡ I usally write smut but I lowkey want to try something new so here is a fluff fanfic, hope you like it (no warnings this time hihi) ♡

Felix: "◦•●❤♡ Cyber sex ♡❤●•◦" -

Lee Felix x reader, boyfriend, long-distance relationship, smut **Involves!!** online sex, dirty talk, cursing, touching themselfs, naked on camera

"ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕪𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤" -

Lee Felix x reader / classmates to lovers / slow burn / smut / fluff / one shot **involves!!** sex, strong tension, cursing, teasing, dirty talk

"ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ" -

Lee Felix x reader / best friends to lovers / smut → angst / drunk!Felix **involves!!** alcohol, drunken actions, sex, make out

Seungmin: "𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉" -

Seungmin x reader / school AU / academic rivals to lovers / smut / one shot / student x student **involves!!** dirty talk, public sex, bullying, teasing, public make-out, sex in school

"──୨ৎThe Roommate Rulebreaker୨ৎ──" -

Seungmin x reader / roomates to lovers / slow burn / smut / chapters **involves!!** tension, cursing, dirty talk, fingering, teasing

I.N: "One Bed, Two Problems" -

Jeongin x reader / enemies to lovers / only one bed / smut / possessive!Jeongin **involves!!** sex, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, Insulting / pain kink, cursing

"One Bed, Two Problems (pt.2)" -

Jeongin x reader / enemies to lovers / only one bed / smut → fluff / possessive!Jeongin **involves!!** sex, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, Insulting / complicated relationship

"𐙚 ˚🍰 ⋆｡˚ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓁 ˚｡⋆ 🍰˚ 𐙚" -

Jeongin x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff / smut / soft!Jeongin **involves!!** flirting, strong tension, cursing, dirty talk, gentle sex, make-out session, detailed spicy part

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚90 Days

Jeongin x reader / co-workers / slow-burn / smut / bet **involves!!** strong sexual tension, cursing, dirty talk, inappropriate touch, strong language, sexual content

Jungkook: "⋆.˚✮𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗧𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗼✮˚.⋆" -

Jungkook x reader / tattoo artist x client / one shot / smut **involves!!** sexual content, tattoos/needles, consensual tension, dirty talk, body worship, cursing, praise kink

I will continue to add my fanfics here xx

98 notes · View notes

foulphantomllama · 1 year ago

Text

The Pen: One-Shot | Pool Winner

Ahn Yujin x Male Reader (POV)

I was so tired that I go straight to bed when I arrived home. And then, of course I was late in the morning. I shouldn’t be late tho. Because today was a big day. I got out from the bed, brushed my teeth and wore my jeans and shirt in nearly just five minutes. I hoped into my car and drive straight to the record studio. I worked with many famous artists. But today, IVE were visiting us to record a special track. I was too excited to see my bias, Yujin. I dreamed about this day ever since I knew that they were coming to our studio. I even prepared my albums and photocards in order to get them signed by the group. But especially Yujin.

But there was a big problem. I already got the text from my friend that says they’re about to be here. And the problem was that I forgot my bag in home. As you can guess, I was already there, at the record studio. I rushed inside my booth and make my preparations. It was that moment that I realized that I forgot my bag at home. Fuck. There was no turning back from there. They’re here, our secretary opened the booths door and said to me. I went out from the booth and greet the girls. They were even more gorgeous than they look on the screen. Especially Yujin, oh boy she was glowing. I briefed them about the song and the standart procedure, then we started. I turned back to my booth. And we did a part of the recording. I was so dehydrated and I needed a cofee break. I got out from the recording booth and went downstairs to get myself a coffee. Many of my friends from work knew that I was obssessed with Yujin. Some of them were encouraging me to talk to her. I mean, I did not see the point? What is going to happend? We suddenly start dating? I got my coffee and went upstairs.

I returned to my place and give the greenlight to the team to start recording again. But suddenly, power went out. Generators were not working. This happened to us before tho. I was familiar with the problem so we just used the backup generators. But sadly, they were no good for powering up our recording gear. It was just for lights and kitchen. So that we can survive in the studio and do the lightwork until the problem gets fixed. Sometimes it get fixed quickly, sometimes it takes a remarkable amount of time. I went out to talk to the girls agent. This kind of artists were using different artists in different countries, in US, they working with an American agent. I never seen or heard about her. So I asked how many days will the girls will be around. She told me 4 maybe 5. I said that we may have to postpone the recording for today so that the girls go to their hotels and rest. She said it is a great idea. She went to the other room to make phonecalls to arrange a driver for the girls. During that time, I went into my cabin again and start looking at my phone. I never realized that Yujin was doing the same in the recording are. my eyes caught Yujin sitting in the recording area of the booth. She smiled and wawed at me. This was an interaction I was not expecting. I studied Korean in my University years and I was familiar with the language. Although has been a long time since I used it. I said, fuck it! When are you going to get the chance to talk to Yujin again? I got out of my section of the booth and get right inside to the recording area. She was wearing white knee socks, a crop tank top and jean shorts. And let me tell you, her shorts was literally short. I tried not to look at her legs and belly button so that I would not look like a creep in our first interaction.

I said hi with my broken Korean. She greeted me with a kind gesture. You know the little bowing they do when they greet somebody. I did the same. She asked me if I know Korean, or If i just know the basics like greeting and asking names. I said that I think that we can communicate in Korean. She said that not many Americans know Korean. “They barely know English don’t worry.” She laughed at my joke very loudly. I insulted my own people to make Yujin laugh. Totally worth it tho. We surprizingly started chatting about things about life and work. Then, their manager get inside the booth. And opened Google translate in order to tell Yujin something. She looked at me with a smiling face. It was a reference to the thing I said about Americans. I already fell into her humour. “I can translate.” I said to her agent. She relieved. “Tell her that we’re stuck here for a moment because I did not find any cars to drive them to the hotel.” I translated this to Yujin. She asked me to ask about the girls. “What about the other girls?” I asked. “They’re visiting the area with some guards. We can arrange a host for her if she wants to do so too.” I translated this too. Yujin replied “No, I will wait here. Thank you.” I was surprised. “She stays. Don’t worry she is in good hands.” I replied to the agent. She said whatever and went out. And she come back in “If the power does not fixed in a few hours we will go to the hotel somehow.” Again, I translated. She answered in English. “Okay.” The agent went out again.

Yujin continued in her cute english “She talks very much.” She giggled. I laughed. “You want a coffee?” She nodded. “Yes, please.” I went downstairs to get her a coffee in a flash. I grabbed a coffee want went upstairs very quickly. My friends were cheering for me. Of course there were cameras. I gave her the coffee and went into my recording booth, unplugged the camera and went back in. Our chat was too fun. We talked about music, industry, movies and many things. She is even a better person than you see and read in online. She is an angel. Literally.

My eyes were having a hard time trying not to look at her thighs and legs. But It was literally impossible. I tried to distract myself by saying that she is my bias in IVE. The moment I said this, her face blushed. I can see that she was embarassed. I tried to comfort her by saying “And you’re even prettier in real life.” I don’t think what I said helped her the slightest, but I wanted to say it anyways. But I can see that she was a little bit more comfortable about this whole situation when I said “I wanted to bring you my albums and wanted you to sign but..” She interrupted “What happened?” I answered, “I forgot them at home when I was trying to be here on time for you.” “Oh, that is so cute. I still sign them for you If you want.” I asked how can we do it. She answered. “Maybe I can come around with you and sign them for you. Is your house far away from here?”

That was an answer i did not expect. She just really wanted to come home with me? Should I do it? “It’s not very far away. A seven or eight minute drive and I’m home.” “Great!” she answered. As soon as we finish this recording, I will come with you and sign your albums she said. “We probably going to finish tomorrow. I bring them with me if you want.” She looked at me. “No, don’t carry them around with you. I can come with you.” I agreed. After a moment of silence, she took the last sip from her coffee and wanted a pen. I gave her mine. I always keep a pen in my pocket. She signed the paper cup and gave it to me. “Let’s start with this.” And then her agent came in. “Let’s go” she said, our car is here.

And she went with her agent. It was going so good that I did not wanted it to end. At least, I got a promise from her. She will come to my home and sign my albums and photocards. I did not mention this to anybody. And I went home. Later that night I got a text from the studio. The problem was fixed and the studio was ready for recording. At least we did half of the song. Only a few hours of work left to do.

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I got a notification. IT WAS FROM YUJIN. SHE MESSAGED ME. It was saying, “I got your instagram from our agent. She asked so many questions. LOL.” “Oh, Hi!” I texted back. And I wanted to be a little bit funny. “Do I know you, princess?” She sent me a sticker of a cat holding a heart. And texted “Can you send me pictures of your photocards?” I got up and took a little video of my binder for her, then sent it. She replied quickly. “Even from IZ*ONE?” “Yup.” I replied. “You deserve a lot of signs lol” She texted. And continued texting. “I need to sleep now but.. See you tomorrow.” She texted and sent that cat emoji again. I wished her good night. She liked my message. Then I went to sleep. Or at least I tried.

In the morning, if i completely be honest, I waited for a good morning message. I opened our chat and started typing things. But i did not sent anything. When I was doing so, she suddenly texted. “Morning. What were you typing?” I quickly had the control of the situation by saying; “I wanted to tell you good morning but i did not sure that you’re awake. And I did not want to wake you up.” The cat sticker. Again. “Your pen is with me right now. I forgot to give it back.” “You can keep it if you liked it” I replied. “Thank you, I will sign your albums with this. Haha.” She replied again. I said that I need to go to the studio. “See you at the recording.” I texted. She liked my message. But no cat sticker this time.

I arrived at the studio. The girls were already there. We quickly started the recording. It went pretty well. We finished even quicker than I expected. We wrapped up the recording and they left the studio. Except Yujin. When a K-Pop artist comes another country to record a special track, they had time to explore the country and buy some souvenirs. Yujin decided to spend her time with me. But her attitude was different from yesterday. She was like more.. intimitading. She approached me. This time she was wearing a skirt and a crop t-shirt. And a Nike shoe. That crop was a must. She loved to show her abs.

As we started to walk towards my car, she said that she needs a cover up before entering my car. She said someone might took her photos and start rumours. I gave her a cap and a long coat. We entered my car very quickly. And I drove her away from a safer zone. Along the way, she kept asking me personal questions. But the most important one was when she asked “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No” I answered. And I don’t know why i kept giving her my personal information but, i continued; “She cheated on me. So we broke up.” “What a bitch!” she answered. Then she quickly get emberassed because she swore. “Don’t worry” I said. You are still so cute when you are swearing. She laughed. “I wouldn’t cheat on you beacuse you’re a good person. And you’re handsome too.” She said. I was pretty shocked to hear this. I looked at her face. “Look at the road.” She turned my face towards to the road. “You will see my face enough today.” She continued. “It will never be enough tho.” I answered. “Sorry If i offended you by saying I wouldn’t cheat on you. I did not upsed you did I? “She asked. “Why would I be offended by that?” I asked. She kept her silence for a moment. And contiuned; “You always say I’m so cute, so beautiful, Aren’t I sexy and hot?” Okay. This was something different. She obviously trying to flirt with me. I was very close to get a one night stand with my bias. I was feeling confident.

We arrived my house. I opened her door and hold her hand while she got out from my car. She thanked me and we started walking to my house. I have a modest house. I am a successfull record producer. But also I try to live a humble life. She was fascinated by my house. I never understand if she was being polite or if she really liked it but, that was the situation.

After we entered the house, she said that if I have something fresh to drink. I offered her a beer or a coke. She took the beer. As he was drinking her beer, she got up and started to walk around my house. My record collection, my computer. She was taking a full interest in me. The she asked “Where are your albums and cards. I want to see them.” I gave her the bag. She started to sign them with my pen. And after some time she finished signing them. She put them onto my desk. And sit beside me. “Do you love me?” She asked. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Come on, you said I’m your bias. Didn’t you ever jerked off to my fancam?” Okay. It was happening. “I think about it.” I said. I got a boner sometimes. But I did not jerked off to you.” She took of her phone and checked to clock. It was 2 P.M. “I need to be in the Hotel by 4 P.M.” She said. “We have two hours.” Two hours for what I asked. She didn’t even replied and just kissed me on the cheek. I hold her neck and started kissing her lips. She started to took my clothes off. I did the same. She was left with her socks and her bra. I was only with my pants and my socks. She took of my pants and sit on my leg. We were kissing very passionately. Our lips were sealed to each other and our tongues were dancing in each others mouth. I took off her panties. And I carried her to my bedroom. Throw her to the bed and get on top of her. I started to kiss her every inch. Her nose, her lips and her neck. I started to go down slowly. I squeezed her tits. My cock was rock hard. But kissing her soft lips and her soft boobs was feeling like heaven. But I needed to go down on her and eat her pussy. When I started to eat her pussy, her body was shaking with my every touch. She was getting goosebumps everytime i lick her clit. It was so wet and so soft. I started fingering her pussy. After a while, I gave her an orgasm. Her juice was all over my hand. I licked my hand and I turned her back and started licking her asshole. “Don’t, It’s so gross.” She said while moaning. I answered “No, I want this.” As she was moaning and saying things in Korean, I stopped licking her asshole. Gave her ass a good spank and turned her back to me. “I want to suck your cock.” She looked at me with her cute eyes. I lay down on my bed, she get up and started to suck my cock. Yujin was sucking my cock.

She was so good. As she sucked my cock, I felt like she was sucking my soul off from my body. “Are you coming?” She asked me. “Yes, a little bit more, then I will be coming.” She stopped and said; “Do you want to cum on my boobs or on my back?” “I want to cum on your belly button.” I said. “You do that.” I was about to cum, I said to her that I was about to cum. I hold my wet cock. And started jerking it off to Yujin’s belly. My ropes of cum were on her belly. She rub her belly with her finger and eat my cum. “You should have just cum into my mouth” She said. “We still have time” I said.

She asked me for a condom. I always carry one in my wallet. I took of my wallet and take the condom inside. She hand gestures me saying give me the condom. She took the condom into his hands. Her red nail polish looked so sexy while she is holding my cock. She put the condom on, and turn her back to me. She was bent over in front of me. I got closer to her pussy and kissed it. Then i put my cock into her pussy. She was moaning like hell. But I wasn’t gentle with her. I put the tip in, waited a second that put it all the way in. Very hard. I was hammering her. Holding her waist. I was holding her waist so hard that it was starting to go red. I let go of her waist and started to spank her ass. Left, right, left, right. With each spank, she was moaning a little more. I realized that I was about to cum, so I changed the position. Since she is very tiny, I was able to turn her face to me. I put her legs to my shoulder and took of her socks. Her little feet was on my face. I was kissing her feet wile i pound her pussy. She was screaming in English at this point. Then I put her legs down and get a little bit closer to her face. I was kissing her face as I was fucking her pussy. She was also scraching my back like crazy. As I pound her, she started to scrach a little bit more. At some point, I can feel that my back was bleeding.

She came for a second time. This time it was all over my cock and my legs. I continued to pound her pussy. I was about to cum. I took off the condom in a hurry, get closer to her face and cum on her face. She licked the cum near her lips. I gave her a napkin. She cleaned her face. Her face was so pink. I can tell that I fucked her really good. She hugged me. That hug was better than the sex. She looked at the time. “We have 20 minutes.” she said. “Where is your pen? I need your pen.” She continued. I got up and brought her the pen. She signed my left chest. And kissed it. “I was thinking about singing your forehead but you need to drive me to the hotel.” She said. I laughed. “Now I have two reasons not to take a bath” I said. “What was the first?” she asked. “Your smell is all over me. I never want it to disappear.” I answered. She hugged me again. “Will you help me dress up?” “Of course.” I answered. I helped her wear her clothes. She did not wear her bra and her socks. “You can keep those. In case you miss my smell.” She said. Then I asked “Will I Ever see you again?” She hugged me again and said; “I don’t think so. But If you see me again, you can be sure that we’re going to do this again.” I was devastated to hear that but, what else was going to happen? “I will text you tho.” She continued. “Now, let’s go. I’m going to be late.” I get dressed up and carried her to the car. As we were getting closer to the hotel, a sadness was taking over my body. Her little hand was on my thigh. It was a feeling that cannot be described with words.

Then we arrived at her hotel. She took off the pen one last time, put on her cap and coat and signed my forehead. Gave me a kiss on the lips. “Goodbye.” She said. “Goodbye.” I replied. As she got into the hotel and disappeared from my sight, I was just standing here. Frozen. Trying to process what happened in the last few hours. I smelled my right hand. It was still smelling like her.

And I drove off to my home.

THE END.

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