#lmk syntax x reader fluff

[yanderelmk]

Syntax x OSDD/DID Reader(s) Headcanons

A/N: Greetings chat! Honestly I wanted to give some food back to this place, I love and miss y'all and I've deeefinitely grown a lot in my takes. I'll be using a new tagging format too!

Tags: Romance, Headcanons, Fluff, OSDD Reader(s), DID Reader(s)

It was a bit confusing trying to talk to you and then all of a sudden you were going by a different name, maybe even a different GENDER, and were talking as if you barely knew him

It turned out you were understandably extremely anxious about revealing your status as a System to him

Though he wasn't overly familiar with OSDD/DID, he went looking for the few available resources that weren't littered with bias or ableist language (no small feat)

After this he decided it would be best to treat each alter like a new person, first asking if they recognized him before introducing himself and explaining his role in the life of the alter(s) he knows

Of course this doesn't diminish his feelings for you in the slightest

If anything he now sees that he must win the affections of every alter (except if they're age regressors/littles/kids of course)

While definitely not the best with kids, Syntax did decide that he could suck it up for your sakes. Through trial and error and lots of questions, he figured out how to act as a proper caretaker for the little alter(s). Though intimidation is his domain, with you all he can't bring himself to be as stern

This has the effect of anyone who scares the System or upsets them being faced with an extra dose of his wrath

Of course he'd never let you see what he does to the offenders, he doesn't want to upset you so badly you form another alter

He never fancied himself a man of romance, but he does occasionally wonder for those alters who are of age if he ought to buy a ring each of them would like or if he should only get one

[beauleifu]

So you've written a one-shot of flirty!reader X Syntax, but what about a reverse? Syntax is very flirty and makes semi-suggestive remarks. Meanwhile, the reader is bright red the whole time and has no idea how to respond to all this intimate attention. Maybe Syntax pins the reader to the wall, presses his body close, tickling their neck with his hot breath.

so its taken me literally forever to get back to this request and im SO sorry but! if you still check out my blog you'll find it here :3

Probably shorter than my normal oneshots but its midnight and i finished all my duties for the night~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FLIRTY!SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Boredom should be a crime at this point. Huntsman is out on a mission, and you'd set a table for two to welcome Syntax's return from his own personal errand. Despite your anticipation for another innocent night of soft glances and sweet nothings, your idiot has something else in mind~

TW: Suggestive, plenty of flirting/fluff

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It honestly looks perfect.

You take a step back to admire the setup; a cheesy yet simple table set for two, with an elegant tablecloth and a few candles oozing molten wax. Anyone would appreciate the effort - you'd even taken the time to fold the napkins elegantly enough to elevate the look of your tablescape.

Perhaps it's a testament to how much you'd missed your idiot. Sure, Syntax's absence had only spanned 10 hours (yes you were counting), but you were clingy like that.

No, too clingy was impossible. Syntax is just as affection starved as you are.

Sighing in reverie, you settle on one of the chairs, chin resting on your palm. Absent fingers drummed on your cheek, and you let yourself daydream for a minute. The spider gang really had to decide that today, of all days, was the prime time to complete some missions they'd been avoiding. Huntsman finally went out to trade with a partnering demon; he'd been talking about it all week, leading you to chaste him for procrastinating. Or perhaps it was merely a cover story and he's currently visiting Sandy at the moment.

The Spider Queen, Zhizhu, and Goliath, had both taken their respective adventures on opposite sides of Megapolis. You knew better than to pry in the Queen's affairs, but Goliath had decided to restock on supplies like food and toiletries.

Simple things. You appreciate him for that dearly.

Yes, it's your money he's spending, but it's time out of your day that he relieved you of, so perhaps the financial aspect of it doesn't matter.

Ah, and that brings you to your dearly beloved scientist.

Syntax didn't want to go, let's get that out of the way. But Zhizhu convinced the spider demon to pay his old lab a visit in order to collect some old blueprints and research documents to further aid in his current projects. Those of which are too important to divulge with you, yet it's nothing personal.

He said he'd be back soon.

Instinctively, you glance towards the clock, the dull ticking a constant background noise in the apartment. It's soothing- a sound you know you'd miss if you had to move out.

6:45p.m..

You're about to let out possibly the deepest, most disappointment sigh known to man, when the jingle of keys fills the air. Perking up like a dog who'd scented nearby prey, you glance towards the apartment door, watching as it swings open to reveal a slumped character dressed in a familiar black lab coat over a dark turtleneck.

Gods, if you had a tail, it would be wagging.

"Syntax!" You gasp, sliding off the chair to approach him. The scientist's head tilts up, sharp eyes scanning the vicinity before landing on your figure. The way he softens and relaxes at the sight of you is something you'll forever cherish.

"Evening, darling." The gentle murmur washes over you, causing butterflies to swell in your belly. He accepts your hug, raising an arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in as you fall into his side hug. "Missed me, I gather?" Syntax hums, eyes twinkling with amusement and fondness. He looks tired, if the shadows under his eyes have anything to say about it, but otherwise all right. It's a sight you never, ever want to become unfamiliar. Fuck, it's almost shameful how addicting his presence has become.

Huffing, you nuzzle his chest, content to burrow further into the warmth of his embrace, breathing in the ashen, vanilla scent that clings to his clothes, and a smell that's all uniquely his own.

"Yeah. Everyone was out today which gave me nobody to pester and nothing to do."

"Oh, how dulce. Aren't you a little ray of sunshine."

"A lonely ray of sunshine," you huff.

Syntax catches the whine in your tone, but doesn't comment on it. Rather, he closes the door behind him with a soft click! and turns his attention to you. The faint, dull thump of his bag being set down on the couch reaches your ears before both his arms encase your smaller frame. As he rests his chin atop your head, an uncontrollable smile filters the weariness out of your expression.

"Long day?"

The scientist merely hums, a soft rumble that vibrates in his chest. Lazy hands trace mindless patterns on your back, following the curve of your spine and giving you shivers. Oh, that's not fair. "Very long. Had an encounter with an old lab partner."

"Oh?" You cock an eyebrow, tilting your head to free your face. Soft eyes explore his visage of tired affection, the way those luminous, acid green eyes roam your features. It's tempting. "Do tell~"

Syntax quirks a brow. His grip tightens around you momentarily, his voice dipping a few octaves. "They were an ex, mind you."

Well. He could've told you that up front.

Head tilting, you knit your brows together and frown, deciding to play along. "Okay, don't tell."

"What if I want to? They were such a charmer, I distinctly remember the look in their eyes upon glimpsing the hickey you left on my neck," Syntax continues despite your words. Suddenly, his grip on you becomes too tight to wriggle out of. Gods, he knows you too well, knows that this is the exact moment you'd try to disentangle yourself from him, but not this time. With a soft chuckle, Syntax lets his head fall forward, dipping into the curve of your neck. "Their jealousy almost rivals yours at best, my love."

You manage a soft squeak, eyes flicking wide, body instinctively trying to slip away but to no avail. His hot breath on your neck sends shivers up your spine, yet your head tilts to the side despite your best efforts to hold firm.

"Oh?" You whisper, fingertips beginning to tremble, and you grip his shirt tightly. "Mocking me, are you?"

"Would you rather I praise you?"

A gentle kiss is pressed to your neck. The feeling makes your heart leap right out of your chest, the warmth of his lips churning up a rapid rubatosis within your mind.

You can hear your own heart pounding; surely Syntax can by now, too.

At your lack of response, Syntax lets out a dark, thoughtful hum. Slowly, he guides you backwards, hands sliding down your spine to settle firmly on your hips. When the hard surface of the counter presses against your back, reality comes crashing down on you and your thoughts return. Messy and scrambled, heated and intense.

He'd gotten to you.

"I'd rather you shut up-" You manage briefly, attempting to push him away. Yet all you manage to do is press a hand to his chest, and that inclines Syntax to raise an eyebrow.

It seems he's contemplating on having mercy. His thumbs absently stroke your hips, lidded eyes scanning your expression. A frisson of heat hits you hard and fast at the intimate behavior. In the end, though, the smirk on his face is answer enough, and he leans down so he's eye level with you.

Gods, he's insufferable. "I could shut you up with a kiss?" Syntax offers.

At this point, you can't make eye contact. "Syntax-"

"Shh." Syntax gently presses his forehead to yours, eyes never leaving your face. It's quiet. Until he rumbles, "You're so lovely, darling. Just let me look at you."

At that, the breath just leaves you. (Y/N) is gone, the lights have turned off in your mind. He'd struck you dumb with words alone. Clearly he's acknowledged your attempt at an intimate dinner, but the look in his eyes tells you he has other plans. A soft smile dawns on his lips, ones that you ache to kiss, to run your thumb over. But he's being so affectionate and flirty that your mind is short circuiting.

Syntax is taking his damn time. Acid green eyes scanning your face, full of nothing but adoration and love for you. And yet, at the same time it feels like he's teasing you with the silent intimacy. As if he knows how much this is affecting you.

Yeah. The soft smirk plastered on his face let's you know he's absolutely relishing in your awkwardness.

"You're not breathing."

The comment is airy, casual. His eyebrows lift.

You grimace, expelling a sharp breath through your nose, refusing to back down now and avert eyes. Syntax catches this, and gladly accepts the challenge.

He hums, lifting a hand to trace the shape of your jawline, tilting your chin up. "There we go. So quiet, little bird. Won't you sing?" The scientist leans down, ghosting a kiss against the corner of your lips, letting it linger. You can feel him smile against your cheek, relishing in the way your breath hitches. You push, and he only pulls you closer.

"I made- um. I made dinner," you whisper, a weak attempt to change the topic.

It's almost a defense mechanism when you can't handle intimacy.

When you can't handle receiving affection.

Syntax pauses, eyes sliding to the table, and he nods briefly. "I noticed," he mutters, his tone still deep. Almost hungry- but not for food. His hands slide lower, hooking under your thighs, and in a swift moment he lifts you up to sit on the counter.

"Wha- Syntax!" You yelp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckles, loving how sensitive you are.

"Yes~?"

He's teasing.

Again.

Your brow furrows as Syntax nuzzles into the crook of your neck once more, littering the soft skin with little kisses and nips. He's being so gentle with it, too, in a way that makes it impossible to reprimand him. Your lips part to deliver a sharp retort, but suddenly he murmurs against your neck, sweet nothings that melt you to your very core.

"Missed you so much." A kiss is pressed to your jawline. "Can you imagine? Putting up with a past lover, wishing I had you in my arms..."

Syntax's hands tighten around your hips reflexively.

You gasp softly, eyes fluttering shut due to sheer overstimulation. Gods, your face is so red it burns. Words are useless; if you tried to speak you'd only embarrass yourself. Only his name is coherent on your tongue.

"Syntax . . ."

He purrs against your neck, pressing butterfly kisses all the way up to your lips. Pulling away, Syntax smirks. "Yes?"

You stare at him, cheeks burning impossibly red. "Nothing."

Those acid green eyes narrow to slits.

No, he missed you today. He wants your vulnerability, your softness. Your sloppy attempts at intimacy while he smothers you with affection he knows you struggle with handling. But he'll learn you out of your inexperience, Syntax is stubborn like that.

"Mm. Tell me more," the scientist chides, coaxing another soft gasp from your lips as his hands slide up to your waist. He loves having you up on the counter. You're more accessible that way.

"Or would you rather I shut you up with that kiss," he adds, smirking.

He's giving you a way out.

Swallowing, you nod desperately, leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss- before Syntax leans back. Dark eyebrows shoot up, and he feigns disappointment.

"I believe my little songbird forgot how to ask nicely," he murmurs, waiting patiently.

Your eyes widen further, cheeks darkening to a rosy hue.

Oh, fuck him.

Absolutely fuck him.

He's not playing fair and he knows it.

"Syntax, please," you whisper, needing this. Needing a break from his teasing and tormenting, craving his touch more than anything. Being vulnerable can come after, surely. "Please just kiss me."

The spider demon waits for you to say the magic words, his expression softening. That signature smile tilts his lips upwards, and Syntax lets out a devious chuckle. Surely he won't make you suffer any longer, would he? He's merciful.

Indeed he is. Your breath is stolen as Syntax leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. Arms slide around your waist, holding you firmly against his larger frame as he tilts his head, chasing your lips, the gentle heat twisting your gut into a molten pit of pleasure. In that moment, you allow your eyes to close, a shaky sigh slipping out between kisses as you lose yourself in that moment. Dinner is utterly forgotten, yet part of you doesn't even care.

He's so nice, so warm, so perfect. The way he hums darkly against your lips sends sparks through your body like nothing else.

You could kiss this man forever. Your man.

Your idiot.

[maskofthetragedy]

SYNTAX x READER

Content: Fluff (i think)

Posted from my AO3 account to here

Enjoy :>

———————————————————————

It was not a good day, to say the least.

You had set your drink down on a bed of notes by mistake, so now there’s a ring of water decorating those rather important papers, your sparring match with Huntsman left you feeling more sore than usual, and your mood just wasn’t that great to begin with.

So now you’re stuck in Syntax’s room, having been sent to work on some printed circuit board assemblies with him. Not that that was bad, most of the time you loved working with someone who could match your intellect with computer and other electronic hardware.

It’s just for some reason you coudn’t get this stubborn LED to work properly.

Which was strange, to say the least. As this had never happened before, you struggling this badly over something so utterly simple. It was frustrating to you, so much so that the pen in your hand you were using for schematics was now brutality making contact with the table.

The pen nib was practically destroyed, but you kept going, finding a strange satisfaction in how it cracked under the pressure. But rather quickly Syntax notices this, looking over at you from his seat with an expression of slight concern and something akin to amusement.

“You’re lucky I didn’t like that pen.” He muses, getting up from his seat to walk over to you. His movements are swift and confident, like always, but you can already feel the snarky remark or joke coming any second now.

After a moment or two, you finally respond.

“Yeah, I really don’t like it either.”

He hums in acknowledgement, seemingly thinking about something. He can practically feel your bad temper right now, and he knows you’re rather fond of jokes. So he decides to take a small risk, doing something he’d normally never even think about, but to be fair, he’s also curious as to what your reaction could be if he finally says something other than a smug remark.

“You know, I just have to say… think of that poor pen’s feelings, hm? How would you feel if I banged you on the table like that?” A little smirk forms on his face, and he leans against your work station, supporting himself with a hand.

Your eyes widen slightly, and then a grin slowly begins to cover your face. “Do you want the ‘appropriate’ answer, or the ‘down horrendous’ answer?”

Now it’s his turn to stammer, seemingly caught off guard. Syntax had expected nothing short of a ‘shut up’ to his comment, so when you said that, it left him stumbling to calculate a response. You take notice of his current embarrassed expression, deciding to have a bit of fun with this now.

“Oh, c’mon. You really walked into that one. For someone so intelligent, I would’ve figured you’d have realized the double meaning there,” You lean back in your swivel chair, lightly tossing the broken pen onto the surface of the workstation.

He just huffs, picking himself and his dignity off of the metaphorical ground.

“Well, I didn’t know I was speaking with someone whose mind occupies the entire gutter!”

“You gotta admit, that was funny,” You laugh, smiling like a fool at his reaction. He’s not genuinely mad, you can tell, but it’s still very silly.

Syntax just sighs, rolling his eyes and feigning annoyance. “You’re lucky you’re decent with hardware, otherwise I would’ve kicked you out of here already.”

This time around, he’s more careful as to not say anything that could be turned into a sexual joke. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy it, but it’s more interesting for the both of them if he puts up a fight. But you do glance over at the ridiculously stubborn LED from earlier, feeling a little bit down again with how you weren’t able to get it to function correctly.

Before you respond to the technician, your hands find themselves moving with a new idea. The LED is replaced with a newer red one, after turning off the power to the prototyping breadboard of course. Then you switch the button back on.

It begins emitting light, like the other one was supposed to do.

You celebrate for a split second before turning back to Syntax, a pleased expression on your face. The original light is between your thumb and index finger now, and then you place it to the side.

“It appears this one is a dud, didn’t these come in yesterday though?” You ask curiously, wanting to make sure you’re remembering things right.

He hums out an answer with a nod alongside it. “Yes, but the Queen insisted we go for more… nominal resources.”

You nod as well, feeling a little bit annoyed with such actions. The cheaper the materials, the harder it will be to do things, not to mention the risk of something malfunctioning. Then if, or rather when something goes wrong, them two will be the ones taking the blame for it.

“Well, that sucks,” You mutter, looking over at the burnt out LED, then to the functioning one.

“Nothing we can do about it,” The spider demon just sits back down in his chair, beginning to clean the area.

You do the same.

[fanged-fanfics]

💕 LMK Fic Masterlist 💕

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🌈୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Key:

♡ - Fluff

♧ - Hurt/Comfort

♤ - Angst

◇ - Platonic

☆ - Comedy

Traffic Light Trio:

Crushing Headcanons (MK x GN Reader) ♡

Defending the Successor (MK x Fem Reader) ♡

Dating Headcanons (Red Son x GN Reader) ♡

Fire On the Tongue (Red Son x Fem Reader) ♡

The Flame Prince's Heir (Red Son x Fiance!GN Reader) ♡/♤

Date Night (Mei x Fem Reader) ♡

Take a Break, Eh? (Mei x Calm!GN Reader) ♡

Life at Home (Red Son x GN Reader) ♡/♤

Monkey Boyfriends (MK x Monkey!Masc Reader) ♡

A Fanbase of Three (Traffic Light Trio x Band Member!Reader) ♡

Healing a Trio (Traffic Light Trio x Healer!GN Reader) ♡

To Calm a Monkey Kid (MK x GN Reader) ♡/♤

Gold Threaded Webs (MK x Spider Demon!GN Reader) ♡

Flickers Left Unsaid (Red Son x Childhood Friend!GN Reader) ♡

Eclipse/Sundial Duo:

Guard Dog Headcanons (Macaque x Fem Reader) ♡

Oh, to Dance With You (Macaque x Dancer!Fem Reader) ♡

Child of The Shadow (Macaque x Parent!GN Reader) ♡

To Raise a Cub (Macaque & Cub!Reader) ☆

To Raise a Cub Pt2 (Macaque & Teen!Cub! Reader) ☆

To Raise a Warrior (Macaque x Parent!GN Reader) ♡

Brainrot Slang (GN Reader) ☆

Smitten Sparring (Fighter!Fem Reader) ♡

First Relationship (Wukong x GN Reader) ♡

Clingy Clones (Wukong x Masc Reader) ♡

Brainrot Slang 2 (Wukong x GN Reader) ☆

Sleep Aid (Wukong x Overworked!GN Reader) ♡

Flustered in Love (Wukong x GN Reader) ♡

Proposal Headcanons (Wukong x Fem Reader) ♡

Stakes and Mis-skates (Wukong x Fem Reader) ♡

Little Peach Speaks (Wukong x Parent!GN Reader) ♡/◇

A King's Form (Wukong x Mystic Monkey!GN Reader) ♡

Heavy Is The Crown That Crushes The Head (Wukong x GN Reader) ♧

A King's Petty Sqaubbling (Wukong x GN Reader) ♡

Other Demons:

A New Chance (Xiangliu x Celestial!GN Reader) ♡

Post-S3 Headcanons (Mayor x Masc Reader) ♡/♤

At the Edge Of the World (Xiangliu x GN Reader) ♡

Celestials:

Dating Headcanons (Fem Reader) ♡

Spider Clan:

Spoiling Headcanons ( Spider Queen x Fem Reader) ♡

Two of a Kind (Syntax x GN Reader) ♡

The Brotherhood:

Of Fur and Feathers (Azure x GN Reader) ♡/♤

Nesting Headcanons ( Peng x GN Reader) ♡

Others:

Dating Headcanons (Camel Ridge Trio x GN Reader) ♡/♤

Morning Routine Headcanons (Spicynoodles x GN Reader) ♡

Two Troubling Bozos (GoldFlame Duo x Masc Reader) ♡

Dress to Impress (StoneFruit Trio x GN Reader) ☆

Doors (StoneFruit Trio x GN Reader) ☆

Bedtime (Sundial Duo x Overworked!GN Reader) ♡

Lost to The Ice (Spicynoodles x GN Reader) ♤

Cuddle Headcanons (Sundial Duo x Fem Reader) ♡

Dating Headcanons (PartyFavors Duo x GN Reader) ♡

A Solution Takes Three (Sundial Duo x GN Reader) ♡

Health Issues (Sundial Duo x GN Reader) ♡

Rage Quit (Sundial Duo x Masc Reader) ♡

Nerds At War (FireWall Duo x GN Reader) ♡

LMK Characters as Queerplatonic Partners (LMK x GN Reader) ♡/◇

LMK Characters as Queerplatonic Partners 2 (LMK x GN Reader) ♡/◇

A Crown Fit for A King (And A Warrior) (Eclipse Duo x GN Reader) ♡

Songbird (Eclipse Duo x Male Reader) ♡

Peace of Mind (Firewall Duo x GN Reader) ♡

Wild Night (Jackfruit Duo x GN Reader) ♡

Pretty Bird (Macaque/Monkey King/Xiangliu x Phoenix!GN Reader) ♡

Resting and Rejuvenating (GoldFlame Duo x GN Reader) ♡

[emelinstriker]

Syntax ♤ New Me

Baked some floofy comfort for y'all! :D

Still sad about Syntax not getting any screentime regarding his past before getting turned, so my brain went like "...This has slight angst potential".

♤ ~ Comfort ~ ♤

His green eyes looked into the bathroom's mirror, gazing upon his newfound looks in the darkness. From his green and purple colors to the fact that he no longer needed glasses made him feel very much uncertain if you still liked him. It wasn't a small change one could easily miss or brush off, after all. Syntax had four spider legs coming out of his back now, for crying out loud! How could you not notice?!

He sighed as he ran his hand through his now green hair, closing his eyes while contemplating his next step. The techy science nerd was still in love with you despite the venom in his veins, making him loyal to his queen above basically all else.

How is he supposed to tell you without you freaking out and leaving him? That was probably his greatest fear in that moment. A future without you by his side. That one flaw in his transformation he could never be able to look past.

Good thing you were still at work, so you couldn't see him tearing up in your shared home.

'I suppose I could always fully live in the Underground with the other spider demons if they reject my new form...', he thought, his frown turning into a bittersweet smile.

'...But then I wouldn't be able to see them anymore...'

Suddenly, he heard the sounds of keys clashing with one another by the front door...

His eyes widened at the familiar sound. 'They weren't supposed to be back yet! I can't hide in time!' He panicked as he slammed the bathroom door, closing it just as he heard the front door shut in a more gentle manner.

"Syn? Love? Is that you?", your concerned voice rang through the halls, all the way past the bathroom door. You were hoping it was him and not a burglar.

He took a deep breath as he leaned his back against the door as best as he could with his spider limbs, "I- Y-Yeah, just... not feeling all too well."

Your gut feeling told you he was lying... Well, partially. You were slightly more concerned now as your husband wasn't one to feel sick and take a break over it. Forcing him away from his projects was the only way you were ever able to even sleep most days! So him being in the bathroom on his own accord was strange, to say the least. Questioning his sickness, you decided to walk up to the bathroom and gave a light knock.

"May I come in?" Syntax swore his heart stopped from the sudden panic spike those simple words brought him. Tears slowly started to gather back up in his eyes as he scowled towards the ground.

"...I just- I don't think you want to see me", he said. You were even more confused now as you said nothing, waiting for him to continue. "Even if you do right now, I doubt you'd want to stay after seeing me... After witnessing what I've become..."

The faint sniffing you heard past the door was all you needed as motivation for your protective side to take over. "Love, please let me in. I don't know what you're talking about, but I can promise you I will never abandon you over your looks", you told him as you leaned in with your hands against the door. He could hear your gentle smile as you spoke the part after. "After all, I didn't marry my beloved tech nerd for his looks. His looks were a nice bonus... But what I fell for was his witty personality, his knowledge over things I barely have knowledge of, how he cared for me..."

You placed your forehead on the door now too as you heard what you could only describe as metal lightly clanking against the door's wood.

"You mean so much to me you don't even know..."

That.

That sentence was all it took to break the spider demon and turn him into a sobbing mess. He opened the door just enough so you could see one half of his face within the darkness of the bathroom. The only light inside came from a little nightlight you once insisted on adding so you had an easier time navigating to the bathroom during nighttime.

You were surprised by his new looks and Syntax took your facial expression as a bad sign. However, instead of leaving him as he feared, you put a foot between the door and its frame.

"May I come in now?"

Your husband finally fully opened the door, despite being reluctant about it, and you were finally able to have a good look at him. And honestly, you would be lying if you said you didn't find him even more attractive now.

The only thing that kind of freaked you out were the newfound mechanical spider limbs coming out of his back. You carefully approached him as he took one step back out of instinct. But that didn't stop you as you took one of his hands into your own, gazing at its purple shade in wonder before using your other hand to lightly play around with its skin. This simple action seemed to calm him enough as he rubbed his eyes with his other hand to get rid of some tears that were threatening to fall.

"...I'm not scared of you, and I certainly am not less in love with you, Syntax. That being said, I am curious", you started before your eyes trailed up from his hand to his eyes. "What happened to you?"

He sighed as he took you in for a hug, inhaling your scent to calm himself further, to ensure himself that you were still with him and haven't left. You two simply held each other as you whispered more comforting words to him. A few minutes of just holding each other, and you looking at the spider legs coming from his back with interest, you decided to ask him if he was finally ready to speak, and he agreed.

You two ended up cuddling on your bed as he told you about what happened: The Spider Queen, her lackeys, the venom incident, him being part of the reason why half of the city's population became zombie-like, his newfound loyalty to his queen... He had to ensure you that he would never pick her above you however... While he isn't sure how far his loyalty for her would go now as his spider instincts tell him to follow his queen's every command, he would hate himself forever if he did end up leaving you.

It was a bit difficult for you to adjust to this new life of having a spider demon as lover in general. He would be gone for most of the time since he would regularly sleep in Spider Queen's Lair, and only ever come back home in the dead of night when you were already asleep. And unless it was the weekend, you were unable to stay awake due to you having work at the office the next morning. So nowadays it was hard for you to even see him, which was upsetting because you just missed his presence.

One day however, Syntax came to visit you at work while disguised in a cloak. He didn't exactly try to have a conversation with you as he wanted to avoid distracting you from your job. But not only did he leave you a lunchbox, but he also gave you a quick kiss. Once he was gone, you looked into the lunchbox and saw your favorite snacks(, that he probably either bought or stole right before visiting), as well as a little sticky note that simply read 'I love you ♡'.

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at how cute he was being. He was never the romantic type and would shy away from the simple idea of showing you public affection, so this came as a nice surprise. It was as if Syntax truly did change a bit in personality and became a bit bolder with his transformation.

Your husband was also there when you came home this time. He kept on using his charm the whole evening until you asked him why he was being so affectionate with you all of a sudden. And his response was that he was repaying you.

"Repay me for what? For loving my husband?" You asked jokingly.

"Well, of course! I hate being apart from you for longer periods of time", he responded happily with his nowadays signature shark-toothed smile. "Which is why I wanted to ask you if you'd be interested in moving into the Spider Queen's Lair with me. It would technically be closer to your workplace as well as my own. We could even have a lit tunnel that leads directly to your workplace!" Your mouth shaped an 'o' at the idea. You could be closer to work as well as see the love of your life more often? You saw this as an absolute win! Although...

"...Is this alright with your co-workers? What if the other spider demons won't like me? What if they want to eat me?!" Your brain started panicking as you imagined different bad scenarios that could happen. But then it halted on one scenario that you could not look past. "...What if your queen orders you to get rid of me?"

Suddenly, Syntax pulled you close to him so your chest would be flat against his as he embraced you with his head on your shoulder. You were surprised, but happily returned the hug.

"Well, then she'll have to inject venom into another person with a similar intelligence level to mine. I would rather drain the venom from my own veins than get rid of you. Besides," he chuckled, "the queen may have an army, but none of them come close to having my technological capabilities. And knowing the queen, she would not bother trying to replace me unless a better replacement is handed to her on a silver platter."

That made you laugh a little before you two leaned in for a passionate kiss.

You could definitely get used to his new self.

> Link to Masterlist <

[beauleifu]

Have some eepy reader and Syntax because comfort shit goes hard

[beauleifu]

Wrote chapter 31 for heartstrings:]

It is up and out on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/39917673/chapters/163781161?view_adult=true

[beauleifu]

Chapters: 28/? Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid Rating: Mature Summary:

  Splitting up was never a good idea.

[beauleifu]

We've put Syntax through a lot of trauma lately let's make him feel better yeye

(background pics aren't mine, simply borrowed cuz i'm gonna incorporate this into a future chapter), so have these two totally in denial lovebords

I mean, I said Syntax would probably get therapy-

also have a lil babygirl with his slurpee drink

[beauleifu]

Hiiii, not sure if requested are open. If not, I do apologize. But I just read your fix about Syntax just flirting with the read but I have a request. Let's turn things around and have reader flirt with Syntax that it makes him flustered and a blushing mess hihihihihi. Thank you in advance!

-🫐

AAAA okay i'm sorry for answering this one before all the other ones that have been festering in my askbox for months BUT I HAD AN IDEA and when i have one i need to write it down

it's gonna be short! But short 'n sweet is sometimes the best way to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X FLIRTY!READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Time to pull out the trusty uno reverse card and give Syntax a taste of his own medicine. Little did you know how well your tactics would work and suddenly, you feel like flirting with him more often.

TW: Slightly suggestive, lotsa flirting

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Holy shit, you're bored.

It's a fate resigned to those who don't feel productive enough to do something, yet desire nothing but an activity to pleasure their soul.

And at that precise moment, the universe favors you.

"Evening, (Y/N)," someone murmurs, strolling into the living room. They eye your figure draped lazily over the couch, eyebrow raising. "You know that will only damage your spine in the long run."

Lifting your head, you watch Syntax walk past you and into the kitchen. "I've got nothing to do."

"Oh, I'm so scared," Syntax drawls, disinterested.

The tone in his voice has strange thoughts entering your mind, which is already blank so it can do nothing except embrace them. With a furrowed brow and a slight frown, you shift around so your knees support your frame, elbows crooked on the head of the couch. Resting your chin atom your arms, you observe your roommate very carefully.

"Yeah, I guess you should be, huh."

Green eyes flick to your face, gauging the situation far too fast for comfort. But you're in a different mood, now.

"Excuse me?"

You tilt your head to one side, voice honeyed and innocent. "I never thought about it, but imagining you scared sounds pretty good right about now."

"Strange for someone usually so docile," Syntax fires back, grabbing a cup for water. "What brought this on?"

You slide off the couch, noticing how the spider demon's eyes follow your every movement like a hawk, his attention utterly captured by your presence. With a cocky smile, you saunter over to him, arms folded behind your back.

"I wonder . . . would you shake?" You hum, eyes sparkling with something new. Something flirtatious. "Would you beg for mercy?"

The object of your attention is suddenly very quiet.

Wide eyes stare into your soul, unsure of what to do. Poor thing, you'll have to guide him through the motions. Now that you're close enough, it's easy.

"Maybe you'd rather not beg for your life. Maybe you'd rather beg for attention," you murmur.

Syntax visibly swallows. "(Y/N)-"

Oh, how quickly the mood has changed. A new plan develops in your mind, and you slowly tap his clavicle a few times. "Don't be scared. It doesn't suit you, I think. You look pretty when you blush, though."

There it is.

A fiery red hue spreads across Syntax's cheeks, and all of the sudden he's rendered mute. He's afraid of what he might say.

So instead, he presses his mouth into a thin line.

Waiting.

You lean very close to his ear. "Couch. Please."

He inhales sharply, softly. Of course he would melt if you asked nicely, in the way that you did. There's always a way around his cocky stubbornness. It's just a nice reminder of how well you know him.

In no time at all, Syntax is sat on the couch.

Looking very, very nervous.

"Your morning tea wasn't spiked, was it?" He quickly asks, head tilted up to better see you standing above him.

"No, don't worry." With this reassurance, you settle yourself in his lap, straddling his hips and placing your hands on his chest in a gentle reminder that you're here and sober, and that he can back out anytime he wants to.

But . . . just to make sure.

"I'm going to kiss you, okay?" You murmur, half-lidded eyes trailing over his features, a crimson shade of excitement and embarrassment. "You all right with that?"

Oh, jeez.

It seems like asking for consent is just making him blush harder.

Looking four feet above your head, Syntax nods stiffly, expression unreadable.

You frown. "Gimme a safe word."

A small pause, as Syntax focuses on your question so as to relax his muscles a bit. You can feel them underneath you, and when he seems completely sure that you know what you're doing, that you'll listen to him and tune into his reactions, he exhales slowly.

"Traffic light?" You offer, smiling a bit. "Red means stop."

The spider demon finally, finally locks eyes with you. They're softer now, those green shades of intellect and adoration.

You know this is new for him.

This is scary and it's strange and yet at the same time, you both know he craves it. He needs it.

So when the Syntax gives a small, sincere nod of approval, you can't help but cup his face and grin like an absolute idiot. "There we go. Knew you couldn't deny me for long, you big softie."

"Don't-" He grunts, albeit smiling, face burning.

You quiet him with a soft peck to his forehead, still smiling. Absently tracing his cheek with the pad of your thumb, you trail down his features, kissing the bridge of his nose to the tip, down to his slightly scruffy chin. Then, you gently press your lips to his closed eyes, murmuring half to yourself.

"I always wondered why you were so scared to be touched."

Raising your fingers to sift through his lime-green locks, you tilt your head and frown sadly. "I wish I'd met you sooner . . . so you could feel this way more often."

"Don't be," Syntax says quietly, eyes still closed.

Smiling, you capture his lips in yours for a moment, leaning back only to touch your forehead to his. "Too fucking bad, sweetheart."

"Oh my stars, don't call me that."

"I think it's cute. My sweetheart, my darling dear, love of my life, babygirl-"

Syntax's eyes snap open, fierce and unforgiving. "Anything but that."

"What. Babygirl?" You question, finding your answer in the scathing look he gives you. With a soft laugh, you trail your hands down to his chest, curiously feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing pattern. His heartbeat spikes when you do so, but eventually calms to a slow and steady thrum.

Sighing, you look up to meet his gaze. "I'm surprised you haven't said 'red' yet."

"I . . ." He seems to be struggling for the right words.

You smirk. "You like it?"

"You're impossible," Syntax huffs, exhaling sharply through his nose. But when his eyes open again, they're full of fondness.

Slowly, you lower yourself so your head rests against his chest, ear pressed to his clavicle. You feel arms drape over your back, pulling you closer, craving the proximity, craving the domesticity and affection. You can't help a sad, warm little smile as you trace patterns in the fabric of Syntax's shirt. You feel him doing the same to your back, tracing the curvature of your spine curiously.

"For someone who hasn't experienced a hug in years, you're really good at it," you hum, congratulating yourself on getting this far. It's progress.

Funny how flirting with him got you here.

"You're good practice," Syntax murmurs, perhaps thoughtfully.

Allowing your eyes to close, you sigh. "Thanks. We can do this whenever you want. I'm open to trying new positions-"

"Do not-" Syntax says sharply, squeezing you in warning.

You return the gesture with your thighs.

"Not yet."

[beauleifu]

PASS THE FREAKING CRUMBS PLZ 🙏🙏 I WILL DO ANYTHING THAT DOESNT INVOLVE KILLING ME -

🥓🥓

oh my poor little bacon friend i gotchu

Heartstrings crumbs first cause i want the reader to suffer again and you don't know how terribly

also this little snippet (edit; oh no im noticing spelling errors NOW of all times jeezus lemme fix that in the real chapter lmao)

ok now Heartbeat 'cause i went on a rampage for the first chapter and now I have like 75% of the plot almost done, just writing it is the hard part lmao

ALSO;

[beauleifu]

MAKE SYNTAX THE FLIRTY MF WHO USES STUPID PIKC UO LINES THAT JUST END UO MAKING THE READER LAUGH— amd then he’s jsut mesmerized by the fact that he made them laugh that he actually ends up flustering them by just being a love struck idiot

I’m a sucker for that kind of troupe it’s so cute

-🦈

BRO YES

I LOVE THIS IDEA OML

Roughly 2.7k oneshot, EAT UP MATES, little sharky anon yes i will remember that emoji lmao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: This damn spider. You let him in your house. He finds your weakness. You let him torture you and funny, it's with anything but pain. He's not going to let you live this down, not for a long time. Lo and behold, it's bittersweet chaos and you won't be the same for awhile.

TW: Syntax hauls your ass up lover's lane (just some flirtatious banter), oh and there's language

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today should've been any normal day.

Should being the operative word here, because any day with a spider demon is never really 'normal'.

You're currently scrapbooking, attempting to plan out your month before the stress of future events gets to you. The idea is a foreign concept; ever since one of your friends mentioned how useful their monthly planner has been to them, you'd decided to try it out. So far, you've gotten properly distracted with doodles and not much with progress.

The soft glow outside is a warm reminder of the sun sinking slowly beyond the city buildings scattered on the west side of Megapolis, casting a pretty sheen across your desk and journal.

You look up for the third time, and by now you're hardly surprised at the scene before you.

Syntax is looking at you strangely, and frankly, it's a little auspicious.

No, like seriously weird. It's not his off-the-rocker normal attitude, no, he's on a different level today. This includes awkward side glances, excited 'lil grins, and hands that won't stop moving. They're in his hair, tapping away on the counter, or entering pointless codes into his tech-watch. A few times you'd even caught him blushing.

You know something is up, yes. Detective little you.

Currently, he's in the kitchen, stashing away the latest groceries you'd went shopping for. Perhaps throwing together a devious plan that confirms your suspicions regarding his behavior.

He says your name.

You look up, expression a perfect picture of one who'd been caught doing something naughty.

Like assuming their partner is up to something along the same lines.

"Y-Yeah? What's up?" You ask, masking the nerves by redirecting your attention to the scrapbook journal. The spider demon shuts the fridge, walking around the kitchen to stand a little ways from you.

"Would you like to make a dinner reservation for tonight?" Syntax hums, eyeing you curiously.

The way he speaks has your fingers curling tighter around the pen in your hand.

Dinner?

Sure, the notion is innocent enough, but you're playing detective right now, aren't you?

So why?

Frowning, you collect the torn shreds of a sheet of paper that you hadn't even realized you'd mutilated and toss them in the little trashcan partnering your leg. "Um. What's the occasion?"

"Occasion? Love, I simply want to enjoy a meal with you in a more professional atmosphere," Syntax offers, tilting his head.

You squint at him. "Uh-huh. What's wrong with take-out?"

Hints of your suspicion finally seep through the cracks. Syntax cocks a brow, matching your slight frown as he steps closer. His movements are small, but have a deep and prologue effect on your nerves as he plants one hand on the desk and stuffs the other in his pocket. It's those simple gestures that get you thinking he's trying to convey something to you. Fighting control over your heart, you look up and lock eyes with the spider demon.

"Take-out? Really, darling," Syntax says, sighing. Warm breath fans your face and suddenly, your cheeks grow hot. "A little bit more of that and you'll have to visit a dietitian for a healthier diet recommendation. What I want is a little variety."

Ah, well, do you feel stupid now. The walls are laughing at the way you'd jumped to a miserable conclusion and won't give the kick your thoughts need to function.

Detective? Nah.

Sherlock is rolling in his grave at your antics.

Tugging at the strings of embarrassment tying in knots around your heart, you clear your throat. "Uh. Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Syntax blinks. "Really. That fast?"

"You'd just be an asshole if I refused," you deadpan.

The spider demon chuckles, leaning back. "Well, consider me relieved. And, ah . . . should I hope to see a bit more of this submissive behavior further on?" He ads mischievously.

You stare.

SUSPICIOUS.

"No!" You cry, swatting his shoulder and standing up so fast you almost knock the journal from the desk. "Where did that come from??"

"Why? Does it get you riled up?"

"Fuck you, that's why!"

Syntax is grinning like an idiot as you drag him outside. No. He has not won this. You'll fight till you die.

Detective (Y/N) is coming for revenge, yessir.

***

"Noooo, please stop talking!" You gasp, thumping your forehead on the table separating you and your lover. "This isn't fair. You can be an asshole but you can't be a bully!"

Syntax chuckles in disbelief. "I'm not a bully! I was simply giving sage advice on your conversational tactics."

Oh, he'd better be joking.

"Telling me I act like a child trying to socialize with millennials isn't my idea of sage advice!"

A hand finds your arm and gently brushes the sleeve back. Fingers dance along your bare skin, and you fight a shiver crawling up your spine as Syntax hums. "Well, if not that, then you've got a dastardly reputation for gossip going haywire. Replying to news about the loss of a family pet with, 'oh, yeah, that's nice,' doesn't exactly qualify as good conversation material."

Your defense flares up like a trapped animal, but you manage a sarcastic laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "It's not my fault. Sometimes I don't understand but I hate having to ask people to repeat themselves! I would've said something better had I known."

Syntax props his chin on folded hands, amused. "Like what?"

"I dunno, 'I'm sorry for your loss' . . . 'you wanna new pet because you should totally take advantage of the way I use my money right now'," you joke.

Your partner notices the eye roll and snorts; "Mind you, I am not the reason you've been spending money unwisely."

"Are too. I'm a sucker for spoiling assholes."

He smirks at that, seemingly content to just study your features. His eyes follow your jawline, down to the shirt you'd decided to wear today, full of soft curiosity. As though going through all the possible interactions he could have, all the ones he'd want to have. And then, he picks one.

"Well… I think it's adorable."

You glance up, having been staring at the table for a full minute. Syntax smiles lazily as you frown. "Uh-huh. Liar."

Adorable your ass.

The spider demon's expression is alight with excitement. This is what's been nagging at him all day. This is the result of his hair-pulling, blushing mess of a self back home.

"Love, I promise honesty is my best virtue . . . for the time being," he ads, catching your expression. Then, he clears his throat and tries again, his anxiety revealed only by the way he hides his hands. Everything else is soft smiles and smug eyes. "I would never lie to you. It would put a frown to your lovely features, and I'm afraid I can't allow that."

You quirk an eyebrow, heart skipping a beat. Just to spite him, you frown deeply. "Like you're doing a good job of that."

"Hmm. Then tell me, what's your love language?"

"W-What?"

You lean back in your seat, looking around wildly in case anyone heard your idiot. Truth be told, the restaurant he'd taken you to is so full of customers you can hardly hear the family at the table behind yours. So Syntax is playing it smart. His little scheme must not be heard by anyone's ears but yours, and where better to host it than at the busiest restaurant in the city?

Slowly, you feel your cheeks heat up. Fuck him. Royally fuck him.

"I-I don't have a love language," you stutter, looking away and fighting a smile.

Syntax's grin is shark-toothed. "Well, if you're curious to find out your love language, we can have a conversation about it some time."

Ah.

You promptly die.

"Noho, stop! This is so much worse than your assholeriness!"

Your flustered cry certainly brought about some attention to your predicament, given the few waiters and waitresses who glance your way. But they pass by without comment, leaving you to the mercy of your idiot, who's actively confirming what you'd suspected earlier in the day.

"I see," Syntax says thoughtfully, eyes narrowed as he considers which path to take He smirks; "Do you prefer pick-up lines, then?"

You bluster a laugh. "Wha- no. Don't you dare."

"Too late. I've been meaning to try a few that I dug up from the internet," Syntax continues, ignoring your whisper/yelled pleas, eyes flashing with excitement.

"Syntax-"

He looks you up and down. "I swear, someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes."

Oh lord.

You clap a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the laugh clawing its way upwards. The blush, however, is something you can't hide.

"Bro-"

"You know, I'm surprised the restaurant hasn't asked you to leave yet," the scientist says, eyes sparkling. "You're so beautiful, you're making everyone else look bad."

You cover your face. "NO. That is SO CHEESY."

"Well, you hit the mark. Aren't pick-up lines supposed to be cheesy?"

"You can't do this!" You snort, face breaking into a smile.

He catches it, copies it with amplified intensity, and launches another attack. "I never knew what I wanted in a partner until I me you, love."

"Syntaaaax-"

"I was thinking, after we'd finished here, I'd take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks," Syntax says, voice laced with fondness and pride. His shark-toothed grin widens impeccably when you burst into a fit of laughter, hands covering your face as you burden the backrest of the chair with 75% of your weight. The spider demon's brilliant green eyes relish in all your beauty, and he's somewhat in awe at how easily he's rendered you helpless.

Honestly, his attempts to flirt with you are so cheesy that you can't help it. The groan that leaves your aching lungs after the laugh attack is paired with your arms as you lay your upper body across the table. He's not being fair, and you're obsessed with it.

Then, you make the mistake of meeting his eyes.

Syntax freezes.

"Ah- are you blushing?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you're left looking as though you'd been caught stealing cookies. "Ah- fuck. No. No!"

"Oh my- you are!" Syntax says, astonished. Wide eyes look you up and down, and his victory only widens his smile. "This is - was I the cause of this?? I-I never thought I-"

You look around wildly; no one's caught wind of your shenanigans. "No! I was only laughing 'cause of how stupid your pick-up lines are," you bluster.

There is no way you'll recover from this anytime soon.

"Darling, if you were a taser, you'd be set to 'stun'," Syntax hums, eyes devouring the way you melt under his words.

"Nooo!"

You're breathless with laughter, eyes blurry with tears as you look up. Syntax's smile is warm and full of awe, as though he can't believe what's happening. "I'd like you see you like this more often, my love," he murmurs, taking your hand in his and tracing your skin with his thumb. Your heart stutters. "Your smile is a remarkable piece of work I wish I could download into my metaphorical database to look at it whenever I like."

Flustered, you're eyes widen. "I- uhm . . . w-won't it get dull, then?"

"I seriously doubt it."

You simply stare, trying to think of something to say to counter him.

But at that moment, footsteps pause by your table, and you're inclined to greet the passerby. Eyes slowly sliding up the stranger who'd stopped, you instantly recognize the trademark orange jacket, the red band in his black hair, and the cheery glint in their eyes. MK. The fucking Monkie Kid. Quickly, you draw your hand out from Syntax's grasp, praying to God MK didn't hear anything.

Your eyes find each other's, and suddenly, the dude you've known for months now breaks into the widest smile you've ever seen.

"No. WAY. Nice to see you here, (Y/N)!"

"Yeaaaah!" You say, standing up. One; you need to hide Syntax from MK's line of sight and two; your plates are clear and it's time to go. "You, too! What're you doing here?"

MK side steps to reveal Mei, the dragon girl who's equally chaotic, and your heart drops a few more inches.

"Oh, just trying out every single food in every restaurant."

Mei flashes a grin. "So far the sushi's best."

"Yeah, glad that was a mutual agreement," MK laughs, running a hand through his hair. Then, his eyes dart behind you, and you realize Syntax had stood up to confront his foes. Not yours, mind you. His.

The dragon girl's eyes slide up, too. "Oh. OH. (Y/N)! Spider demon at six o'clock," she whisper/yells.

"Wha-" You glance over your shoulder to find Syntax giving the fucking evil eye to both your friends. He probably considers the dinner date absolutely wrecked just because the two goofball's existences have been made known. The tension between the three of them is so apparent you can feel it crackling. "Oh. Oh, yeah, um, this is Syntax. You remember, right? I introduced you guys to each other."

Syntax turns his nose upwards. "To my utmost displeasure."

Mei sticks his tongue out at him while MK simply shrivels, taking a step behind the dragon girl. "R-Riiiight. Nice to meet you again, um, mister spider - eurgh - scientist."

While MK mentally hurls, Mei studies the two of you.

At the way Syntax's hand snakes around your waist. You're too late to swat him off, because Mei suddenly blinks, eyes filling with understanding and mischief. A smile spreads slowly across her face. "Wait, are we interrupting something?"

"Huh?" MK ponders, eyes wide.

Mei grabs his arm, shaking it lightly as she beams at him. "Dude, we just interrupted (Y/N)'s date."

A pause.

All four of you stare at each other in turn, until MK breaks it.

"IS THAT WHAT THIS IS-" He points at you, eyes practically stars as he bounces on the spot.

Your hands shoot up to shush him, panic sending a thrill through you. "No! This isn't what it looks like, we're just having dinner - wait that sounds even WORSE-"

By now you've attracted a fair amount of attention from onlookers. Your face flushes deeply and you briefly wish the ground would open up underneath you. But MK and Mei are smirking knowingly, shooting each other eyebrow wiggles that make you literally push them aside to walk past.

Someone catches your arm.

"(Y/N), I hardly think you're being fair to your friends," Syntax hums, eyes flashing with amusement as he tugs you back against him.

You let out a squeak of alarm. "wHA-"

"Are you afraid to admit you've been embarking on a romantic rendezvous with me?" The spider demon says, eyes flashing with an unspoken challenge. But they're warm, so incredibly warm and simply admiring your features.

Mei and MK let out a simultaneous, "OOoooooh!"

Fuck this.

You're taking this elsewhere or you'll stop it right in its dastardly tracks. Customers have been staring for the past two minutes. With an embarrassed huff, you tug at Syntax's sleeve.

"C'mon. Bye, MK, Mei. I'll . . . I'll see you guys later," you grit out, ducking out of view as you pass them.

Mei winks. "Have fun!"

"With a spider demon?" MK whispers; "Bet."

"You're on."

You roll your eyes, glaring at a spot on the floor as you practically drag your idiot out of the restaurant and into the open. Fresh air bathes your face, clearing your thoughts and the congested ocean of emotions they'd been suffocating in. For a moment you stand there, ignoring the people walking by, and simply breathing.

Dinner date gone wrong. Or did it? Sure, it was embarrassing, but it was fun and your heart swells.

Someone taps your shoulder. You know who it is before you turn.

"My hand is feeling a bit heavy," Syntax says softly, eyes locked on your face. He cracks a small smile that says everything. "Care to hold it for me?"

You blush. "You don't have to ask, y'know."

"Well, then." Fingers lace through yours, squeezing gently. Megapolis seems less cold with Syntax around. "I'll remember that."

"You'd better."

[beauleifu]

hiii!! saw your rqs were open so i swooped right in >:) may i perhaps get a fluffy syntax x reader where the reader tries to drag syntax away from his work because theyre sleepy and want to cuddle him (bonus points if syntax is a bit of a tease cause djkfgdkfg im predictable) ...... i feel like once he gets going on his work he stays there until he either finishes it or passes out. overall hes Very stubborn so we gotta try and fix his sleep schedule with the power of ~love~ (and a lot of convincing). thank you for the opportunity!! the way you write for him is like instant serotonin 🙏💞

HEYYYYY GOOD TO HAVE YOU!

And ofc, ofc, we all love a little Syntax serotonin, yessir. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, sorry if this is late! I wanted it to be fun and mushy lmao

P.S. to everyone else, I think this is gonna be my last long oneshot for Syntax seeing as im writing a fanfic for him and dont want stuff for him to get old or repetetive, I have a LOT of requests regarding him so i'll either write short headcanons or not answer them until later <3

as for that yan!Syntax x reader, that's the exception lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Your idiot is back at it again, tinkering late at night at the work bench you realize you regret buying for him. Syntax was never one to value his own health, so it's up to you to, ah . . . remind him. Let's hope your plans don't go sideways.

CW: Tiny suggestive bit, language

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

When you wake up, it's still dark.

Weird . . . You think, not bothering to sit up. Dull gaze directed at the stone ceiling, you frown thoughtfully.

It's probably sometime around three in the morning.

That doesn't explain the strange empty feeling inside of you. Blowing out a sigh, you look around for the person you'd been spooning all night - only to find the other side of the bed vacant and cold.

Now you realize why you feel empty.

Syntax is gone.

Frustration starts to build up in your center as you slowly sit up and rub your eyes, yawning tiredly.

He's probably working in his signature cave. Just one of many in the vast expanses of the Spider Queen's lair. You've become familiar with the many routes and tunnels that stretch to the surface (the Spider Queen needed you at your top game, anyways). After coming to terms with serving the Queen, you've stayed by Syntax's side to help him with whatever he needs. You're not a tech nerd, you're not even a scientist. But the spider demons seem to enjoy your company, the food you cook, and the items you bring from the surface.

It's too chilly to leave your room without a blanket, so you drape the fluffiest one over your shoulders and slip out of bed, bare feet touching the smooth, stone cold floor.

Urgh. Living underground doesn't have many perks.

You find solace in working with Syntax and befriending the other spider demons. At least they allow you to travel to the surface in order to get your daily dose of vitamin D and other necessities. Besides that, you live down here.

Stretching and scratching your back, you walk aimlessly to the door and crack it open. It's dark outside.

It's always dark.

You've grown accustomed to the lack of sunlight, but you must have access to a nightlight or a lamp if you want to feel somewhat at home. The Spider Queen had allowed you to decorate your room (it's a cave, but you refuse to call it that), and you're grateful to her for that. It's not often she expresses any sort of kindness to begin with.

Eyes wide, you fumble for your phone and beam the light down the tunnel.

Just beyond, where the path curves sideways, you see a light.

Yup. Totally working.

"Damn spider demon," you mumble to yourself, in a slight daze as you leave your room and follow the source of light. "Getting no sleep. What am I supposed to do . . ."

When you finally reach the room, you pause.

Anxiety bubbles in your chest.

Step, step, step.

You've started pacing, you know it.

Slowly shuffling back in forth in front of the ominous door that leads to Syntax's quarters, hands twisting the blanket fabric. Under normal circumstances, you'd walk right in after knocking, with a smile on your face.

Instead, you're frowning, tapping your chin and thinking hard.

It's three in the fucking morning.

Why isn't he asleep!?

You don't understand why the Spider Queen won't send Syntax to rest and charge up if she values his tech skills so much. Despite it being so dim down here in the spider caves, no one ever seems to want to sleep. Unless they do so while you're aboveground, but the time you spend up there recently is very brief. You're ordered to return to the Spider Queen's lair in due time (and you're sure Huntsman keeping an eye on you the whole time, anyways. You don't try anything).

Adjusting the fluffy blanket draping over your shoulders, you fight a yawn and rub your eyes. Just get it over with.

You're tired.

He must be exhausted.

It's that which motivates you to quietly open the door, peeking inside before stepping through. As you expected, a tall figure stands at the work bench, back to you, tinkering away.

You puff out a small, exasperated sigh. "Syntax. . . ."

He doesn't turn, but you detect the smallest tensing of his shoulder muscles as he straightens a tad. You hear the small exhale.

"You should be asleep."

Oh, he wants to play this game? Puffing a sigh, you enter the room and shut the door quietly behind you, leaning against it. "Yeah, well, so should you. This isn't healthy and you know it. Why can't you take a break and come back to bed?"

"You know why. I'm almost finished with the prototype."

"The prototype?? You mean you're not even at the final stage?" Crossing the room and joining him at the workbench, you give him the stinky eye. "That's not almost finished."

Finally, Syntax locks eyes with you, frowning. "Did I say I was almost finished with the project as a whole?"

"No. . . ."

"Precisely. Now if you won't return to bed, then sit and be quiet."

You weigh your options, biting your lip.

At this rate, he'll just refuse your request just to spite you. There must be a smarter way to play your cards. Something that you know he has a weakness for. . . .

"How about a deal?" You murmur.

There.

You catch it, the slight lift of his eyebrows and the brief gleam in his green eyes. But he merely scoffs. "What did I just tell you?"

"Please. Please!" You say, fighting a smile. "I wanna cuddle!"

"I'm not in the mood for bargaining."

He's messing with you. You know he's interested in whatever you have to offer. Puffing a laugh, you slip your arms around his midsection and hug him from behind, closing your eyes. The sound of his breathing against your ear is soothing, even when it hitches at your actions. He's so warm. No wonder you woke up from his absence.

"Pleeeeeaase?" You whine softly, knowing you sound childish but not caring in the slightest. "I thought you liked deals."

A pause. You hold your breath.

Syntax lets out a sigh, a smile in his voice. "What did you have in mind?"

Oh.

"I, uh . . . haven't planned it out that far. I was expecting you to shoo me back to bed," you admit sheepishly, glad you can hide your face in his coat so you can avoid meeting his gaze, which is no doubt amused and mocking.

The spider demon hums, tinkering away. "That was on my itinerary, but you have piqued my interest. . . ."

"Okay, how about I do whatever you want for a bit, and in return you come to bed and cuddle with me," you offer, releasing him. Syntax spins on heel and leans on the workbench.

"'Whatever I want'?" He repeats mischievously.

You consider. "Within reason."

"Understandable. All right," Syntax says, cocking his head. "I have an idea."

A question builds in your throat, for he'd been so very explanatory, but Syntax simply crosses you to the far side of the desk and faces you once more. Hands in his pockets, he nods to the desk, eyes twinkling mysteriously. You frown deeply.

"Sit here."

Now you grimace, face scrunched as you try and figure out his ulterior motives. "Uh-huh. What else? Just sit?"

If this is it, getting him to bed will be shockingly simple.

Of course, you miss the look in his gaze. Smiling casually, he hums; "Yes. That's all." And then his voice takes on a stern dip. "However. You are to sit quietly and obediently until I instruct otherwise. If you can do that, I see no problem in fulfilling your end of the bargain."

There it is, the catch you were waiting for.

Accepting your face, you nod wearily and saunter over to the desk. You make sure the blanket is secure before hopping up onto the smooth, wooden surface.

Syntax steps back, making sure you look comfy. "Good. Now sit there for a bit."

"You're not just doing this to make me shut up, are you?" You accuse as he walks back to the workbench. Shifting to avoid leaning back and bumping the discarded tech gear at your back, you eye him sternly. "You really will come back to bed?"

He merely glances at you.

Oh.

Shit.

You make a quick movement of zipping your mouth closed. Damnit, you still have no idea if you're doing this for nothing.

Syntax cracks a satisfied smile, returning to his work.

His demeanor gives away nothing. Whipping out your phone, you glance at the time. 3:30. Through narrowed eyes, you determine how long he'll make you sit here. No longer than half an hour, if he values your sleep schedule. Somewhat reassured, you settle into the blanket and watch Syntax resume tinkering around. The prototype looks like some kind of mini spider-bot, with sharp appendages and large, x-raying green eyes.

You long to ask what purpose his creation serves. Perhaps it's some kind of spying device, to scuttle around the city undercover of night in search of the Monkie Kid. Then again, isn't Syntax's current task something different? You thought the former was Huntsman's job.

A yawn escapes you without warning, and you clap a hand over your mouth in shock.

Syntax spares you a brief glance. "Giving up?"

He's asking if you're tired enough to abandon the deal and leave him here (as he probably wants). To challenge you in that way sparks a flame that you don't bother to snuff out.

Glaring determinedly, you shake your head. Not in a million years.

The spider demon's face drops in disappointment, and he turns back to his work without another word.

You're inclined to pass the time on your phone, lazily scrolling through entertainment simply thrown at your feet, as they swing back and forth above the cave floor. But as time ticks on, you begin to think this is all quite hopeless.

You struggle against another yawn.

A few more minutes.

It'll be worth it.

Syntax suddenly straightens, having been rearranging the insides of the mini spider-bot for the past five minutes. Blowing out an exhale, he glances at you - or rather, behind you.

His eyes then trail to your face. A slow, smug smile spreads across his features.

Setting the screwdriver aside, he walks over to the desk.

You realize he needs something from behind you, something lost among the many miscellaneous tech items resting against the wall. However, from the strange gleam in his eyes, you doubt that's all he needs, and he hasn't asked you to move yet. So you plant your hands on the table in preparation to scooch over and make room for him.

To your surprise, Syntax stops your motions by politely - yet firmly - placing one hand on your knee.

You swallow. Uh oh.

Syntax smiles kindly at you. "That's not necessary."

"But I-"

"Perhaps you're forgetting your instructions? Move, and the deal is off," Syntax continues, effectively shutting you up. With a gentle squeeze to your knee, he winks. "So stay."

That kind smile was a ruse, a dirty trick that had momentarily lowered your guard.

Syntax finds it incredibly easy to simply lean right over you to retrieve whatever he needed from the table. He's taller than you, his height even more prominent when you're sitting down. You have to tilt your chin upward so it just barely brushes his shoulder, heart beat suddenly wild.

It stops.

It skips beats.

It has no fucking clue how to react.

"U-Um-"

"Just a moment," Syntax says, which is so informative. You can practically feel his smirk, can taste the amusement reeking off of him.

Also his perfume. Not to mention his natural scent.

Smells good. Heat blossoms in your cheeks, your mouth quite dry as you attempt to swallow. The phone in your hands slips from your laxed grip into Syntax's palm, and you don't even try to object.

The scientist fusses with something behind you for a good ten seconds, giving you plenty of time to work up quite a flustered storm in both your head and your face. In the end, when he leans back, you're shivering despite the blanket, cheeks on fire.

The spider demon smirks.

Job well done, his eyes seem to say, green and mocking.

"Enjoying your visit thus far?" He says musingly, eyebrows raised. When you give no answer, he scoffs and brushes his bangs to one side. "You have permission to speak, I suppose. For now."

You simply glare, no longer wanting to cuddle anymore.

No.

You want to attack, like the little gremlin you are. Revenge tastes sweet, yessir.

"Not answering," you huff, hoping for a drink.

Which is certainly answer enough. Syntax's drops and he shrugs as if to say, you're loss. He's still a close distance from you, looking down at your blanket-swaddled frame. "You'd rather go back to bed and give up this . . . whatever this is?"

When he'd gestured to you, your eyes fall to his hands, unwilling to keep eye contact.

"I just . . ."

Angry for being at such a loss for words, you glare at the floor.

Syntax's expression softens.

He seems to realize what's up. With a faint sigh of fond exasperation, he rests his hands on either side of you, on the desk, and lowers himself to your eye level.

"Why did you really come down here. To me," Syntax murmurs, eyes half lidded.

You stiffen. "Well . . . I . . ."

He's smiling now, fingers ghosting along your arm. "Did you miss me that much?"

"More like worried you'd kill yourself working too hard," you grumble.

"Hmm. I'm touched," Syntax comments, gently taking your hand in his. Raising it to his lips, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, eyes trained on you. This time, you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

Say it.

It's certainly a last ditch effort, an idea you're not exactly proud of.

However, as we all say, for the greater good.

"It . . . it just hurts to see you neglect your own health," you whisper, as though your confession is something forbidden.

Your words fill Syntax's ears.

He blinks, lips parting in surprise. You catch the guilt flash across his face.

At that moment, you seize your chance.

Syntax didn't know.

He had no clue that you were also putting on an act to dissuade him from the real deal (although your confession still have a ring of truth to them).

Karma is a bitch.

Hauling the blanket with you, you launch yourself at Syntax and wrap yourself around him, legs hooking around his waist. The blanket had fallen in such a way that it now covers both of your heads, giving way to a new kind of darkness that you quite like.

He gasps, hands instinctively flying down to support you.

With eyes of steel, you grab his face.

"Sleep," you beg, expression set aglow by the soft shine of Syntax's green eyes. Cracking a fond smile, you kiss his nose. "Cuddle with me."

You kiss his forehead. "I love you and I want you to be healthy."

Then, you pinch his cheek. "Don't make me use force."

Syntax is effectively breathless, words simply abandoning him when he needs them most. Your actions had startled him for sure, and thankfully he'd caught you or you'd be on your ass right now, drowning in shame. For now, you remain thankful and patient in his arms, thumb absently brushing his cheek.

Finally, Syntax sighs in resignation. "I knew I'd fail to achieve anything with your constant nagging."

"Is that a yes?"

A yawn - you knew he was tired. "I suppose it was."

Relief pours through you, and you remove the blanket from over both your heads. It falls back around your shoulders like a fluffy cape.

"Then let's be off," you say, yawning ass well.

He obeys, perhaps sad to leave his project yet his body is relaxed. Carrying you still, he leaves the cave and walks down the tunnel. You hug him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing deeply.

"I can't believe you did this on a daily basis before we met."

Syntax clears his throat. "With good reason."

"Give me one good reason, then."

Silence.

He's tired. It brings a smile to your face, because so are you, and it would suck to have forced him to do something he isn't ready for.

Now you can look forward to sleeping with peace of mind.

[beauleifu]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

This might not grace the date, but I'm writing this half an hour before midnight but to celebrate I got a little treat for you guys, hope you enjoy!

edit: aight i missed the deadline but HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN

Consider this a make-up for not being able to update Heartstrings, I promise the next chapter will be worth it, but I'm just a tad busy at the moment to properly render it public <3

(we putting those onesies to good use here lmao)

EDIT2: this may have been a future scene in Heartstrings however this was mainly just for halloween, its just a side story but can be taken as whatevr you like

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: It's Halloween baby, and you're lucky Syntax decided to play nice and let you dress him up. You're probably the only person he'd ever allow to expose him in that way, so you'd better not fuck this up. Unfortunately, you decide to be a brat.

CW: Language, light suggestive themes

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It's getting late.

You wait by the car with bated breath, eyes scanning for your partner and wishing he'd just materialize there. Unfortunately, Syntax is taking his precious time with the costume you'd picked out.

He's doing this on purpose.

You saw his smug smile before he vanished into the bathroom, caught the way his eyes flicked shamelessly over your figure.

Yes, he doesn't approve of your costume choice, but he certainly sees no problem in having you wear it. The green triceratops onesie is large and baggy, hardly complimenting your body but proving itself worthy in other areas - such as with pockets and a large, cute hood.

Ah, there he is.

Your eyes snap up as the spider demon strides outside, having been staring at the ground, lost in your thoughts.

With a careless eye roll, you wave him over. "Took you long enough."

"Apologies, but I had a difficult time getting past the ridiculousness of your fashion choice, darling," Syntax hums, giving himself a cool once-over before looking up at you. "What is it?"

You cock a brow, all mirth and no pity. "No need to apologize, Dino Boy. It's cute that you feel the need to, though."

"Are we on a tight schedule?" He deadpans.

Well, yes and no.

You are free to trick-or-treat anytime, but people normally close shop after 10 p.m..

Your glare shifts sideways, a fateful indicator of the half-truth in Syntax's statement. His smile merely grows fondly as he watches you start the engine and kick the car into gear. He loves getting on your nerves and reminding you exactly how much he adores the way you try and fail to comeback him. However, there's that infuriating bratty side to you that, although is no match for his wit, never fails to irritate him. It renders his thoughts utterly hazy, and perhaps that's the beauty of it.

You don't need smart comebacks. Your attitude gets you anything you want, and he knows you know it.

"Won't you drive?" Syntax says, gesturing to the open road.

You're staring at him, making goosebumps rise on his arms. But you see no problem in admiring how he looks, smiling wryly. "Sure. No harm in etching you permanently in my memory, though."

He grits his teeth. "Darling, we'll be late."

"You think we have to be on time for Halloween? Ha, maybe the costume does suit you. Dinosaurs have pea-brains, too."

"(Y/N)-"

"Aaaand we're off!" You say, tapping tunelessly on the steering wheel as you edge the gas pedal so suddenly it urges Syntax to grip the arm rest tightly. He sucks in a heated breath, sharp eyes going to glare at the smug smile painting your pretty little face.

Oh, he'll get you for this.

For forcing him into a humiliating outfit for an equally pointless event. For being a brat and making him look like a fool.

However, he's content to bite his tongue and sit back. He'll watch you drive silently, not just to admire your figure or to keep from distracting you, but to allow a plan to evolve. Revenge tastes sweetest on unsuspecting victims, after all.

You, on the other hand, are blissfully unaware of your partner's conniving.

Honestly, you're happy Syntax is doing this with you.

The two of you are heading to the most festive neighborhood in the city. They tend to leave the streets decoration-free until a few days before Halloween, though, to get the biggest reaction out of onlookers and trick-or-treaters. And boy, do they play their cards right. You've seen old posts on social media regarding Halloweens of the past, and a large portion is centered around the neighborhood you're driving to.

Syntax has no clue.

He, assuming he hasn't spoiled it for himself by scouring the internet, will be utterly blown away by the sheer creativity and raw horror of every house's decorations. He doesn't know about the screaming ghouls, the dolls that jump out at you, and the fog that gives scarers the perfect weapon; surprise. Sure, there are a few houses that host little to no decorations, but the ones that do are a marvel.

You spare a glance at your partner. He notices instantly.

"Looking sharp, dino dude."

Green eyes slide down his frame, weeding out the parts he doesn't like. "I look hideous. Onlookers will wonder if I've gone crazy. Are we there yet?"

"Heh, you must be really stressed," you tease, wearing a shit-eating grin. "This is the only day of the year where wearing crazy outfits is normal. Don't you know that? No one will think you're crazy unless you act like . . ." You give him a once over, unimpressed; "yourself."

Oh, he does not like your tone of voice. Amusement, directed at him? You might as well be burning his pride at the stake.

"I'm not stressed, I-"

"Also, yes, it's just around the corner," you interrupt, eyes glittering.

Syntax's breath hitches. He rewards you with a filthy glare, tempted to advance his unspoken warning by bringing out the spider enhancements. Unfortunately, the costume prevents that course of action, curse you and your rotten intuition. He sighs darkly. "That's the second time you found it convenient to interrupt me."

"Oh, is it really?" You feign shock, eyes big and apologetic. It royally pisses him off. "I'm really sorry." Your smile returns, and you drop the act while murmuring; "Wasn't much to interrupt, anyways."

"Hm? Care to repeat that?" Syntax says, forcing calm. You will not best him, not tonight.

Not even in that adorable onesie. Green. His.

You simply shrug, voice calm and innocent. Brat. "Nothing."

He contents himself with the citizens beyond the tinted car window. Eyes half-lidded, he observes their outfits, the silly costumes they'd chosen for this useless holiday. He could be doing something much more productive right now, like being nestled in the comfort of his workspace back home. You'd make him a cup of tea of coffee, settle in the padded chair he'd permanently borrowed from the furniture store. You'd fall asleep to the mechanical sounds of him tinkering, and after the long hours are up, Syntax would wrap you in a blanket and carry you to bed.

You were always quiet, exhaustion rendering you obedient. Syntax smiles to himself, hand going to grip his chin to conceal his amusement. Yes, you behaved when you were tired.

Perhaps he'll get the same result by running you ragged on this little event.

Approaching the outer edge of the neighborhood, you park the car and shut it off. With one last outfit inspection, you and Syntax hop out and meet at the front of the car.

For once, Syntax isn't looking at you.

He's momentarily distracted with the sights before him. You find yourself entranced at his obvious wonder, admiring the way his eyebrows jump up, lips parting slightly. "So? Was it as dull as you expected, or . . ?"

"Not dull, no. I wasn't expecting this."

"And you said Halloween is a silly holiday for childish shenanigans."

He catches the mockery in your tone as you step in front of him, expression challenging as you rest your weight on the balls of your heels. A mere eyebrow lift is your only reward. "I rest my case."

Syntax doesn't mind your heated glance, returns it even as you both begin walking the sidewalk.

Your hands are stuffed into your pockets (you'd also stuck your tongue out at him). "Don't you worry. I'll have you writhing in the grip of regret by the end of this."

"No need to talk about yourself so highly, darling," he quips.

Ah. Syntax feels before he sees you move. On your tip toes, you urge him to halt with a simple prod of your pointer finger against his sternum, hidden under a low-hanging tree. Bringing your mouth to his ear, you allow your tone to drop. "I know you don't hate the costume, Syntax."

The spider demon stiffens before he can stop himself, and he wishes he'd pulled the hood up to spear (Y/N) from this opportunity. "My outfit is awful. Of course I'd hate it," he grits out, focusing on a certain crack in the ground.

You hum musingly. "Wasn't talking about your costume."

Syntax's eyes flick wide in realization, at how you've clearly one-upped him. Seamlessly.

Before he can reply, you kiss his ear and exit his personal space bubble, your presence a mere ghost against his body. Of course, Syntax flushes deeply, fighting to suppress his pride. You're getting to be quicker on your feet. Now, you're all bright eyes and grabbing his hang, pulling him closer to his fate.

It takes a great deal of effort for Syntax to unclench his jaw.

He takes a deep whiff of cool air, blows it out steadily, and tries not to think about how small your hand is, clasped in his own.

Your first stop is a lovely house swathed in spider webs and tombstones. Feet stick up from the lawn, webbed corpses hang like cold symbols of doom along the house walls. But at the end is a shiny orange bowl in the lap of a stuffed scarecrow.

You fight a mischievous smile, nudging Syntax forward.

"Go on. Grab some candy."

The spider demon spares a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the families wandering the sidewalk. "Shouldn't we leave the cavities for the little ones?"

Harsh much?

You give him a harder shove, and he stumbles towards the lonely scarecrow sitting in the chair. "Nah, you'd much rather satisfy your sweet tooth."

Syntax frowns deeply, glad his expression is concealed from you, as you are indeed correct.

Grudgingly, he selects two candies and retreats.

"Happy?"

The grin you've been fighting this whole time promptly emerges, setting your face and cheeks aglow. "Oh, totally. I never knew snickers were your thing. Maybe you should eat one before we continue; you're not you when you're hungry."

Your little jibe makes Syntax want to smart-mouth you to death, want to spring his spider limbs into action and suspend you over the town.

But that would only be another win for you.

Adorable little brat.

Nose upturned, Syntax walks straight past you - but not before grabbing the back of your hood and yanking it roughly over your head. It renders you helpless and blind, and your hands shoot up to fend him off as you yelp impudently. The spider demon chuckles in obvious amusement, his gait now a pleasant stroll now that he's had his fun.

"Come now, (Y/N), I thought you were excited for this," he hums, watching you struggle to lift the hood. "Or do you give up?"

Your bright eyes spear him indignantly. "Fuck you."

"I'll take that as a no."

The next house presents the both of you with a whole different theme, this one stuffy with fog. You both curiously eye the garage doors, painted red with bloody handprints. An equally crimson trail leads to the bowl of candy positioned by the front door, almost hidden from view. Ominous figures guard the treasure, identities concealed with dark rags and cloaks. You're unable to deter whether or not they're real people, or just figures bought from the store.

Nonetheless, you're eager to let Syntax go first again.

"There you go, dino dude. There might not be much left, and I can always get some at another station," you say, feigning politeness. Your warm smile seals the deal.

Oh, oblivious, pretty little Syntax, unaware that his next course of actions will set his pride aflame.

The spider demon flashes you a cocky look, eyebrows raised at your display of kindness. To allow him first dibs, to forfeit what precious few cards you hold in this game you two are playing? He'll never let you live this down.

"You're too kind," he purrs in wicked amusement, striding confidently forward. The hooded figures remain motionless. "Don't worry, you won't regret-"

A shrill scream fills the air.

Syntax jumps back, eyes wide and arms raising to block the attackers. "Ohfuck-"

In the process of doing so, he drops the pillowcase - practically empty, but for future candy storing. One of the figures is responsible for Syntax's sudden movements, having rushed him at the last second, at the precise moment he let down his guard to fish out his choice candies. They were the ones who shrieked, and it even sent chills down your spine.

But a laugh bubbles in your throat, then a cackle, then you snort with amusement. "HA! Nice one, guys!"

Syntax straightens, wide eyes darting from you to the three figures who are suddenly moving, high-fiving each other and laughing among themselves. Breath somewhat uneven, he collects your pillowcase and tries to regain his composure.

Fuck.

That scared him. Or, well, surprised him. Damnit, he should've sensed something was off the moment you'd dropped the sass to let him go first.

He glares when you rush past him to get a high-five for yourself (not before giving him a shit-eating grin). Then, you grab some candy and part those devious lips of yours. "That was fire, guys. He totally deserved that, been acting like an asshole this entire time. He didn't even want to go out! Just wanted to stay home and tinker away . . . so thank you."

One of them laughs. "Damn, you put up with that?"

"I have to. He'd die without me," you say, slowly peeking over your shoulder to give Syntax the haughtiest, most self-satisfied smirk you've ever pulled off. It's almost impressive how badly you want to get under his skin.

After a few short rounds of useless small talk, you finally wish the hooded figures good luck and proceed down the driveway, chuckling to yourself. The spider demon spares no effort to give the scarers the filthiest look he can muster, but he's not sure they even noticed. He's already been reduced to a helpless hobo due to your incorrect recount of events. So a swift turn of the heel and he's catching up to you, heart still off-beat.

You are so. Fucking. Irritating.

At the next house, he casually grabs your arm. "Why don't you go first this time."

You don't miss a beat. "What, you scared, dino baby?"

"No. But I think you deserve a little fright this time around, don't you?" He fires back, cocking a challenging brow.

An amused hum. "We'll see."

Syntax watches you approach the trick-or-treat stand; a quaint blow-up attraction with skeletons and pumpkins lining the walkway. Arms crossing over his chest, he drums his fingers impatiently, eyes spearing the back of your neck. God, he wants you close to minimize the risk of getting lost, but the way your acting has him wanting to be as far from you as possible.

But he's supposed to be investing all his efforts into exhausting you tonight. To render you helpless and kind once again. His sweet, little angel.

Eyes widening, he watches as you retrieve some sweets.

No jumpscare.

No loud, voracious noises.

You return to his side (right where you belong), clean and free from panic or fear. Syntax merely stares down at you in surprise.

His obvious frustration and indignation has you smirking devilishly. With a light snicker, you grab his collar and tug him down to eye level, winking. "Nice try, dino baby. But the universe loves me."

With that, you reach behind him, snatch his hood, and tug it up and over his face.

Payback is a bitch.

Syntax stiffens at your movements, but his face is hidden by the triceratops hood. His face is hot as you raise a hand to cup his cheek. Your smile softens fondly, as you trace his jawline and duck to peek under the edge of the hood. "You okay under there? Thinking about giving up? 'Cause if the universe is on my side tonight, you're totally screwed. In the ass. Royally."

The spider demon contemplates your words, eyes on the floor. He doesn't pull away from your touch. "Perhaps . . . you may be right."

"See? Wasn't that hard now, was it-"

He suddenly lifts his head, green eyes flashing under the hood.

You stay quite still as he straightens slightly - just to have a fair amount of height over you - and looms over your smaller, fluffier figure.

"That may be so," he says, pausing to let the shameless wrath of his words sink in. "But the universe won't be able to protect you from the consequences of your actions. Tonight, in your bedroom. Royally," he finishes darkly.

Swallowing air, you offer a cheeky smile.

God, it's so fucking hard to combat him when he's like this. It has you sheepishly rubbing your arm.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing," you try, wanting to kiss him to stop his heated taunts. That should shut him up, as it's worked before whenever Syntax has the high ground.

However, a kiss is not what saves you, it's the citizens.

Syntax seems to realize them approaching and finally tears his eyes from your face to look around. Tonight shall be your night. He will discard any notion to combat your behavior and instead indulge in your silly antics. To secretly coax you into feeling safe and secure (it's more fun to surprise you than have you suspiciously awaiting his actions). Funny, how fast his itinerary shifts focus. But his own words have lit a spark, put a spotlight on an idea that will certainly have you back to your kind, caring self by the end of tonight.

So with a new plan etched in his mind, he bears down on you a warm smile that fills you with confusion.

"I believe we have houses to visit, my love."

You stare. "Huh? But what-"

All right, he'll bite. He's not even trying and you've suddenly lost the sass he's been brooding about all evening. "Worry not. You look darling in that costume and I would like for everyone to see that."

Syntax doesn't finish that sentence. He doesn't need to. You're his.

Perhaps having twin costumes shall reaffirm that. Curse you and your unintentionally brilliant ideas.

You offer a small smile. "Well, I'm glad you've come to your senses, spider dude."

He's the one to take your hand. "As am I."

[beauleifu]

Hello beau, it's my first time asking in your blog so I'm pretty nervous (｡>﹏<｡)

so uh imagine Y/N has a piano (I think they also got one on Heartstrings fic?) and then they suddenly played Golden Hour in front of Syntax with adoration in Y/N's eyes

what would be his reaction? 👀

Anyway, if you don't know what Golden Hour, this is the song

YESS I LOVE THAT SONG, love it with a passion! And Y'ALL SYNTAX LOVERS COME GET YO JUICE (i've been gettina lot of asks regarding that lovely asshole)

Anyways, hope you enjoy! This one's a lol short <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You wake up in the middle of the night, only to indulge in your musical hobbies that you've been neglecting to take care and entertain your lovely roommate. You thought he'd stay asleep, but you were wrong.

CW: None

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Cold.

It's sweat, sticking to your body and the blanket that covers you. Grunting uncomfortably within the heat of your cocoon, you grip the edge and fling the blanket right off of you.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you sit up and stare.

You ache, not with sickness but from the way you'd banged around in your sleep, trapped in the horrors of your own mind.

It's late, the clock reading 3:26 a.m.

The window is shut tight, but the curtains had been pulled open, revealing the gibbous moon shrouded in clouds above the softly glowing city buildings. Despite burning with sweat, a sudden chill sweeps over your quaking figure, ghosts of your night terror prodding your brain.

A desire to escape seizes you, so strong that you leave your room, not bothering to be quiet.

The hallway is dark - everything is dark.

Suddenly wishing you'd grabbed a blanket for the ride, you clutch yourself tightly, shivering. Thoughts do, thankfully, leave you be, and you're free to wander your apartment without a care in the world.

The kitchen is your destination, sadly offering no more light than your previous occupations. You wince at the noise when you open the cabinets, drawing out a glass to fill it with water. And then, it's quiet once more. You stand, quite lonely-like, in the center of the kitchen, with nothing but a bare sheen of moonlight to illuminate your surroundings. A small part of your consciousness hints at a certain roommate waking up, but it's not very strong.

Slowly, the piano in the corner of the living room is brought to attention.

Like a twinkling, black canvas just waiting for you to explore it.

Thing is . . . it's been awhile.

Having a new roommate gave you a lot of new objectives, taking away each of your small pleasures one by one. It never bothered you, of course, but the piano does look lonely in the shadows. And it's been gathering dust.

Your baby.

You look around, finally coming to awareness.

Would Syntax wake up?

The soft thumb of your footsteps lead you towards the piano, already coming to a decision. You'd play quietly.

Besides, you need a distraction.

Gently placing the cup of water on the lid, you drag the piano bench out and sit upon it's velvety cushions. Your fingers tremble already with anticipation. Blowing out a quiet breath, you lift the fallboard, and with sparkling eyes scan the black and white keys beneath. Syntax won't wake up . . . if he did, this'll put him right back to sleep, anyways.

You already have a song in mind to play.

For a few minutes, you're just lightly tapping keys, making sure the piano is properly tuned. Then, the lasting anxiety just has you tenderly (yet gently) playing the softest tune you can.

Then, you're ready.

You start off just as quietly as before, playing a song you'd learned well.

". . ."

A smile tweaks the corners of your lips at the fond tune. Oh, you missed this, so much.

And then, it's time for your vocals to join.

"It was just two lovers,

Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde,

Fallin' for each-other

Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish,

It's no Donald Glover

Missed call from my mother Like, "Where you at tonight?"

Your smile grows wide as you continue, fingers dancing elegantly over the keys. It's a warm, fond feeling, as though you're floating on a cloud. 3am piano playing never fails.

No one is here. You're blissfully alone.

Just you, your voice, and the piano at your fingertips-

Green eyes flash into view.

At first you think nothing of it, softly singing as you tap the chords. But then you see it again, beyond the lid of the piano, and your eyes dart up for a second.

In that brief moment, you catch a figure standing just beyond the piano, dressed in plaid, dark pajamas.

Syntax gazes right back, green eyes wide.

Oh shit.

You'd woken him up, you'd disturbed him in his sleep-

What was once your heart is now a hammering, freezing chunk of shot nerves and guilt. You're about to stop playing, lips already maneuvering to apologize for your carelessness - but Syntax is quicker. He reacts with the subtlest movements of his already raised hands, fingers splaying outwards as though trying to calm you down. As though saying 'hold on, it's all right'.

You notice his eyes, then, filled with surprise - yet a mixture of awe and adoration that shoos your panic and doubts away like little butterflies. They settle in your chest, a flurry of nervousness and excitement.

Syntax then tilts his head slightly, encouraging you to keep playing.

Your smile returns.

The piano is once again lit up with music.

"I was all alone with the love, of my life,

He's got glitter for skin,

My radiant bean in the night," you sing, tweaking the lyrics to better suit your partner. He takes a small step forward, then another, a rare smile blossoming on his features.

Your eyes dip down for the briefest of moments to the keyboard, but for the most part, you're locked within Syntax's beautiful eyes.

Then, the song slowly comes to an end, the last note ringing softly.

You smile uncontrollably.

Yes. Syntax had woken up, but it was worth it.

To see that smile.

"That was stunning, my darling," Syntax is saying as you shut the fallboard, walking forward with his hands outstretched. "I had no idea you could play the piano."

You're quick to come around the piano and fall into his arms. "Did I wake you?"

"I'm glad you did."

For a brief moment, you allow the guilt to motivate your next words. "But you're finally letting yourself sleep more," you pout.

Syntax smiles down at you, features warm and genuine.

"Darling, I will sleep more if you play your sweet songs more often."

"You really like making deals, huh."

"I like making deals with you, love," Syntax hums. He tucks his hand in its rightful place under your ear, fingers brushing gently across the nape of your neck. You grin up at him, thrilled with the song that still echoes through you.

So he's willing to bargain. Good. "I'll play the piano more if you sleep more."

"I'll sleep more if you play the piano."

"So we have a deal?"

Syntax leans down, taking your lips in his in a soft kiss. You grasp his arms, one hand going up to cup his cheek. The darkness no longer bothers you, no longer chills your bones.

You're body is warm with the heat of Syntax's embrace. And suddenly, you don't want to be anywhere else.

Why the hell did you make Syntax sleep on the couch again?

Oh.

That's right.

He was being an asshole. Funny how a little key-playing can wrap him right back around your little finger.

The spider demon leans back, eyeing your features. "What's that look for?"

"I just realized something," you say innocently.

"And what is that?"

You take his hand, tugging him gently to the couch. Or to your room. You can sleep anywhere right now, and considering it's only 4 am, there's plenty of time left to catch some Z's. "I'm tired. That's what I realized. And so are you, so come."

"To bed? I thought I was banished to the couch," Syntax teases, barely hiding the surprise in his tone.

Sighing, you smile at him. "I've had a change of heart."

Green eyes blink at you, full of fondness. Even in the shadows of night, his facial features are softly illuminated by traces of moonlight. Once upon a time, you were afraid of that face.

But now it only brings a smile to your lips.

Suddenly, the spider demon bends down, strong arms slipping under your legs and arms. In one move he picks you up bridal style, halfway across the living room. You gasp in surprise, rolling your eyes at Syntax's next words.

"So have I."

"Pfft!" You say, swatting his shoulder. "All right, you. Now you're banished to my room for the rest of the night."

He cocks a brow, sharp teeth showing through his smile.

"Banishment is supposed to be a bad thing."

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

Syntax merely smirks at you, tightening his grip for a brief moment. You lean against him, smiling fondly. Maybe you should play the piano at 3am more often.

[beauleifu]

heyy can u make a syntax x reader who dislikes insects when u open ur requests (Im writing this because I'll probably forget this idea 🙁)

like

"Wtf a huge spider dude💀??"

"Im not only a spider Im a INTELLIGENT spider."'

yea yea ofc! Syntax is literally getting so much fame right now im loving it <3 Roughly 4k oneshot, i got carried away lmao, enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You, Mei, and MK had originally planned to spend the day at the Dragon Arcade by yourselves, and yet fate always has a different plan for you. And it never fails to drag in the things that make your skin crawl. Lucky for you, this spider isn't as scary as he looks - and he's got a knack for cheating arcades out of their stocks.

CW: None!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

"Almost . . . there!"

You and MK smoosh your faces against the glass covering as Mei, focusing with all her might, delicately lowers the crane and clamps the metal claws around a soft dragon plush.

Beads of sweat are actually visible on her face. "C'mon . . ."

"Oh! Oh! You got it! It's right there!" MK gasps, pressing his face even closer.

Your eyes grow starry. "Careful!"

Plop!

The plushie bounces into the winner's pit and the three of you let out a simultaneous shout of victory, jumping with your fists to the sky. Beaming, Mei fishes out the stuffed toy and holds it out, grinning proudly. It's green, with soft accents, a yellow, segmented belly, and curled white horns; you run your hand down it's back and confirm the softness you'd been expecting, your fingertips leaving off at the thin, spiked tail.

"God, it's even cuter in person," Mei gushes, squealing and hugging the animal close.

MK finger guns. "Well, considering it was just made for you . . ."

"We couldn't just let it sit there all alone," You finish.

The dragon-horse girl snickers, adjusting her back-pack so the plushie could sit within with it's head poking out. With that, she whips out another set of arcade coins and hands them out to you and MK.

"Now let's splurge somemore!"

And you do.

It's brilliant. The three of you had been saving up all fucking week for this, pushing aside assignments and meetings and gatherings because really, you all earned this.

MK and Mei needed a break, and you were willing to accompany them. What better place than the Dragon Arcade?

So for a good fifteen minutes, you parade through the arcade, testing out all the games and winning prizes in some. Your backpacks are slowly getting heavier with all the loot you're dragging in. Honestly, there's so much to do; Mei and you race on the motorbikes that connected to a large screen; MK and Mei have an epic air-hockey match that good ol' monkie man eventually won; and the three of you get brain freezes from drinking your Slurpee's too fast.

The chaos lasts for so long, in fact, that you barely register it's only been fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, after that time is up, you're plunged into a different scenario.

It happens while you're charging up to spin the Big Bass Wheel, something which you've never had much luck on. MK and Mei are currently attempting to secure a pair of headphones at the machine behind you, so they're occupied.

But tonight, you'll chance it.

Rolling up your sleeves, you take a breath, grasp the handle firmly, and push with all your might down south.

The wheel is forced into motion, becoming a blur as it spins.

You wait with baited breath, not expecting much, but the adrenaline from everything you've done tonight is getting to you, making you dare to hope . . .

Eyes wide, you watch as the arrow points . . .

To a hundred tickets.

"Not bad," You mutter, because it's honestly a solid victory. Normally, spins land you on something fifty tickets or lower.

A smile breaks your features, which are alight with the glow of a thousand arcade accents. The machine begins to spit out a stream of tickets, and you crouch to start collecting them. Mei and MK don't notice your victory, but they sure will when you insert the tickets into the counting machine.

Someone stops by the machine, hands in the pockets of their black tailcoat.

"Not bad."

Their voice is deep and accented, slightly nasal.

The glance you spare in their direction is too quick to properly collect any data, but you're smiling too damn hard. "Ha! That's exactly what I said. This never happens to me."' The glance you spare in their direction is too quick to properly collect any data, but you're smiling too damn hard. "Ha! That's exactly what I said. This never happens to me."

"Some say machines like this are rigged," the person continues, watching you roll up the tickets. "But I never believed them."

When the game spews out your final reward, you straighten.

"Honestly, same. I . . ."

But that's when you finally breach their features.

Your arms tighten instinctively around your prize as you lock eyes with green, dilated pupils. Slowly, you stare at the sharp green forelocks that curve around his forehead, at the lavender shade of whatever skin is visible through the coat he's wearing. You swallow dryly, seizing up.

"I-I gotta go."

The figure tilts his head, pencil mustache framing his mouth as he frowns. Eyebrows furrow as those same green eyes flash with realization, and he walks off without another word.

You're speed-walking to Mei and MK's station, utterly petrified.

You'd been frozen with fear, surprised that you'd been able to manage those few words of absence.

That was no ordinary man.

That was a spider demon, and it sent chills down your spine.

MK is the first to notice your distress, despite how aloof you try to make yourself appear when approaching them. "Yo, welcome back! Something happen?"

"No! No, I just want to go home, like, right now," you say firmly, heart still thumping hard.

Urgh. Spiders.

The dragon-horse girl snorts, glancing at her phone. "Uh, dude, it's only eleven. Why not camp a few more hours here? MK doesn't have work tomorrow because I literally begged Pigsy to finally give him a day off, which he never gets. Which, I'mma add again, is not normal for an employee, MK," she adds, eyebrows raised at her friend.

The Monkie Kid puffs a sigh. "I gotta make a living, right? Besides, that's not the point." He turns to you. "Why do you wanna leave?"

No guilt trip. No aggressive questions.

He's just curious.

It has your wall crumbling to dust, and you lean forward so you can whisper to them. "Look, I may or may not be deathly afraid of spiders and I just saw a fucking spider demon and I know you understand that, MK. He's literally right over there-"

You point in the general direction you saw the spider demon walk off in.

Mei looks over your shoulder, expression unconcerned. "He's still there, y'know. Look."

With that, she spins you around.

There he is, five machines down, his back towards the three of you. Now, you can clearly see his lime green hair, and purple skin peeking through the cuffs on his wrist, a defining feature of spider demons. You swallow nervously again, stiffening up like a statue. Mei clearly notices this, for she snorts again.

"Oh my God, you're just like MK! Dude's terrified of them."

You spare a glance at your friend, who looks equally uncomfortable at the news. But he meets your gaze nonetheless.

"Whaddya say to him?"

"Before I realized what he is? Oh, lots. But I couldn't say shit when I did realize so I just shot the hell out of there," you scoff, biting your lip guiltily. It was a bit rude of you, now that you think about it.

"Well, why don't you go talk to him?" Mei suggests.

Both you and MK turn on your friend with wide eyes. "WHAT?!"

Her hands shoot up in mock defense, smirking. "All right, I get it. You're afraid of the big bad spider. But 'shooting the hell out of there' sounds a bit careless. Poor guy's probably got the feeling that you hate his guts."

You gape at her. It's exactly what you were thinking.

"Whoa. That is a lot of emotions you got packed in there," MK wonders, peering around you with wide eyes.

"Oh my God, shut up."

He grins, albeit a little nervous, keeping a close eye on the spider demon in the distance. "Kay, I get it. But maaaaybe you should go apologize, at least? You owe him."

"He's a stranger," you huff.

"Okay, then you owe me," MK puffs, triumphant.

"What for!??"

The Monkie Kid flashes you a wink and a cheesy grin. "I'm not gonna say in front of Mei, but you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Oh.

You do.

It gets you red-faced with anger, despite Mei's curious look at both of you. Squeezing and un-squeezing your hands, you take a deep breath, glance at the lone spider demon, and back at your friends. They look encouraging enough. All right. You'll apologize. But then you'll get the hell out of there. Spider demons are no different from real spiders.

Without any real conviction, you sigh. "Hhhh. Fine, fine."

"We'll be right over here," Mei says mysteriously, draping an arm around MK's shoulder and edging away. She gestures dubiously behind her. "Call if you need us, kay?"

You eye her suspiciously. "Yeah, all right."

Then, you face the stranger.

He doesn't look up when you approach him, but you know he senses your arrival. Spiders always have a strange sense. Urgh.

When you're three feet away, you cough. "Um. Hi."

The dude is currently playing Pac-Man, lavender fingers gripping the rubber rod while his other hand presses the keys. He's focused, but not entirely, as though bored by whatever antics the machine extends to entertain him. You're honestly curious behind his motives for playing, which is the sole reason you draw an inch closer.

A flash of green, and his eyes are suddenly locked on your figure, narrowed in speculation. You freeze for a moment, holding your breath. But then, his attention returns to the game.

Okay.

So technically, this means you're not unwelcome.

"Pretty dated for a techy-looking guy," you venture, clearing your throat. "Pac-Man, I mean."

He doesn't look up, expression obstructed by the lock of green hair in his face. You consider backing out, even going so far as to look around for an escape rout - but then you see two idiots spying on you from behind an arcade machine a distance away. Your two idiots.

Mei and MK give you a thumbs up.

You grit your teeth, eyes wide to indicate your distress and frustration, but the two reply with smug smiles.

Oh, those two-

A burst of noise distracts you from glaring at them.

Blinking, you turn your attention to the ticket dispenser for the Pac-Man machine, which is currently spewing tickets at an alarming rate. With an equally astonished gaze, you look up to the spider demon, catching the flash of pride in his eyes.

What. Had. He. Done.

How does one even attain tickets from a game like this? And that many? That's got to be at least two hundred-

The spider demon moves on to the next game, tickets collected.

You gape.

"Wha- how did you- wait, nevermind, I'm not here to oggle-"

Composing yourself, you tag along with a newfound curiosity, watching the man zone into another game, eyes laser focused on the screen.

Or so it seems.

He suddenly glances at you again. "Ah. You're still here?"

"Did you break that game just then?"

You can't help those words, they tumble from your throat like traitorous ropes of doom. They tether you to the ground, making any escape rout an impossibility. But the spider demon is unphased by your question. He doesn't even take offense, merely treats your curiosity as one would a child's wild fantasies.

"No. I hacked it."

Simple. Straight to the point.

It snaps you back to reality, that you still have to apologize, because two idiots made you do it and you really do feel sorry. You'd caught that look he'd given you earlier.

Like he gets that reaction a lot, and he's tired of it.

You could say something stupid and do something equally so, like lean jauntily against the other arcade game and say, "Come here often?"

Thankfully, you're not.

You just clear your throat awkwardly, which is close enough. "Were you surprised, then, when I spun that wheel?"

"Yes. You can't breach the mechanism of a wheel electronically."

You have a funny feeling 'you' meant 'him'.

"Huh."

He pauses. "Come here to pass more judgement, then?"

The simply accusation lays bare on your guilt and you fiddle with your jacket, sorely reminded of the look he gave you. You spare a glance at your friends, who're thankfully still positioned by the arcade game. Heads bounce up and down in nods of encouragement, and some of your strength returns. Sure, he's a spider demon. But he looks somewhat human, so maybe this can work.

"Sorry," you mutter, eyes on the floor. "I didn't mean to be rude back there. You just startled me."

"You weren't startled by my approach," he says, sounding expectant.

"Your appearance startled me," you amend.

Something lights up in his eyes, something that says 'ah, there it is'. A flicker of a smile flashes across his face before his eyes dart up to meet yours and the look is gone, replaced with indifference.

"Does it have something to do with my reputation?"

His words resonate within you, sparking curiosity. What reputation? "Ah- no. I'm just not very fond of spiders."

He seems to notice you didn't include spider demons.

"Well, then, it seems we are at an impasse. I came here to indulge in the many bargains the Dragon Arcade has to offer, yet it seems my company is unwanted."

You blink, looking up.

"Oh! Not unwanted, per say, I didn't come here to make you leave-"

The words grow still on your tongue when you catch the look in his eyes. Something that tells you this stranger is joking with you.

Huh.

Maybe this can work.

"Ticket-trader is gonna be real suspicious about your haul," you venture, glancing south to eye the spider demon's ticket stash, strands peeking out from under his coat. The man regards you with an unbothered expression, absently messing around with the arcade game.

"Is it safe for me to say I'm suspicious about your sudden shift in behavior? You're afraid of spiders, yes?"

You swallow, shrugging politely. "Yeah, fair point."

He nods, expecting your reply. What you don't see is that he's whipped out a mechanical device on his wrist and is tapping away, hacking into the arcade game at hand.

In a moment, your left leg is suddenly hit with a spray of tickets.

"Whoa!" You gasp, recoiling.

Another pile of bounty, probably 200 strong, tickets flowing well past your angles. And the dude just rolls it all up like it's nothing, stashing the rolls away once he's done with them. You can't help but stare at this stranger who's taken your breath away in more ways than one.

But then . . .

You spare a glance at Mei and MK.

At where they once were.

Your heart, surprisingly, doesn't stop when you notice their absence. Instead, it opens up a new opportunity, one that has you whipping out your phone to sent your friends a text.

[Feel free to head back without me, I might be awhile.]

Then, you turn to the spider demon stuffing tickets in his coat.

"You're going to put this place out of business if you keep this up," you joke half-heartedly, shuffling awkwardly on your feet.

The spider demon shrugs. "Everyone has to make a living somehow."

"True. You could be doing worse."

"Very true."

You bite your lip, not liking the dead end this conversation is headed in. With a small gesture of the shoulder, you bite your lip. "Why don't you spare the arcade the trouble and spend your time bowling? There's a bowling center on the upper level not to far from here."

A pause, as the man collects his haul of tickets. You wait with baited breath, palms sweating.

Suddenly, he locks eyes with you. "Are you hinting your eagerness to continue this conversation, then? Over a round of bowling?"

Some part of you wants to say it. Say no.

He's a stranger.

Even worse, he's a spider demon.

You can still walk out of this unscathed, you can walk away right now-

But your feet don't move, and the words never leave your mouth. Instead, you further your offer with a dubious shrug. "I'll pay," you say politely. "I'd like to apologize, anyways."

"You already have."

"If it's okay . . . you never actually accepted it," you say, smiling.

At that, the man's eyebrows shoot up, and the tiniest of smiles tilts his lips upwards. Just slightly.

"Fair enough."

~~~

One bowling round later and two cups of grape juice, you're at it again with the largest, heaviest bowling ball the staff has to offer.

Your companion, a deadly spider demon, eyes your prize warily.

"The medium fit you best."

"And where's the fun in that? You said you were a scientist once," you fire back - albeit generously merciful with the mirth (he's a stranger, after all); "Don't scientists love to experiment?"

Said scientist cocks a brow. "If a scientist knew what worked best, they'd stick with that, not try something new."

"This is bowling. It's different."

With that, you lug the ball forwards, eyes on the stack of pins at the end of the runway. Your target. Your unaware and innocent victims.

You take aim, and fire.

The ball is so fucking heavy that you have to roll it, merely giving the object a good, hard shove. Standing up, you eagerly watch the ball snail its way down the path, veering left.

And it promptly falls into the gutter, the true dead end.

You turn to find the spider demon's eyes boring into yours; he'd totally expected that.

"That's a turkey."

"Let's see you do better," you dare to say.

He merely shrugs, brushing past you as you flop down on the couch. Everyone else had vacated the bowling area - possibly the whole Arcade, as it's currently 2am and not everyone ignores their sleep schedule like the plague. Since this guy hasn't complained, you feel he's in the same boat as you. Partying till you drop.

Where Mei and MK are, you don't know. But they'd sent to texts a minute after you told them the news.

[GOOD LUCK! But why a spider demon??]

[IF YOU DIE CAN I HAVE YOUR T-SHIRTS WITH THE PRINTS]

MK and Mei, your idiots who you'd literally die for.

You're going to kill them.

With kindness.

Maybe.

Smiling to yourself, you watch the spider demon carefully select a bowling ball, slip three fingers into the holes, and approach the bowling lane. Eyebrows knotted, mouth in a tight frown, he takes aim and swings the ball off down the lane.

It slides with speed and grace, something you're seeing quite often in your rounds of playing with him.

Strike.

You look up at the score.

10 points added to his already 200 strong score.

You sigh.

"Do you play bowling often, or are you just a natural?"

"Why? Seeking a trainer? Is that why you stalked me like the plague?" He says indifferently, but you catch the underlying tease in his tone.

It has you smiling. "I won't waste my time."

"Ah, I see. You're still afraid of me."

"Why would I be? You've proven yourself to be something of human descent, although I still haven't figured you out yet," you hum.

He blinks. "Something?"

"Someone, I meant some- Oh, for God's sake, it's my turn and you know what I meant," you scoff, tempted to elbow past your companion, but you refuse. Despite your demeanor, you really do want him to accept your apology, which you've tried and tested again and again.

He flashes you a shark-like grin. "That readable, am I?"

"Yes," you say, nodding. Picking up a random bowling ball, you walk backwards to the bowling lane, eyes on him. "For this, at least. You still won't tell me how you came to be such a purple-clad demon."

The scientist frowns. "You do realize backstories are normally saved for people invested in extending a relationship, yes?"

"Aren't I, with the bowling?"

You toss the ball.

The man sidles up to you, both your eyes on the prize as it rolls down the lane. He knows you're joking. That you've amended to respect his personal space and not pry, but messing around is just something you can't resist. Funny how you've eased iup so well around him - and vice versa (he's smiled twice).

"I would've chosen something other than bowling," he ventures.

"Like . . ?"

"That would mean meeting up again."

You regard him with a deadpan look, eyebrows shooting up. "Once again, I'm not that worried about you suddenly spinning me into a web and devouring me inside-out anymore, okay? Whaddya have in mind?"

That same smirk is your reply. "My, my. What a sad little human you are, to stoop so low as to associate with your deepest phobia."

"I have worser phobias."

"Worser isn't a word."

"My friends use it all the time, and the more something is repeated the truer it becomes," you retort.

The spider demon meets your gaze coolly. "Oh? Those 'friends' who spied on you for fifteen minutes before succumbing to boredom and vacating the premises?"

"They were protecting me," you say, voice softening.

He snorts - actually snorts-, and the sound is astonishing to hear. "Well, then you should be very grateful."

"Yeah, they're pretty fun."

You hadn't even realized you'd gotten a strike. All you did was observe the spider demon's hand movements and attempt to mimic it. Maybe you really do need a trainer.

The scores finalize, ending the second round with your companion as the victor. Really, there was no competition; this guy's a natural.

"Good game," you say suddenly, glancing at the time.

2:30am.

The scientist follows suit, glancing to the stairs. "Agreed. Shall we?"

"Sure."

Damn, and you were having so much fun. Talking with a stranger really helped you loosen up, and it seemed like he'd had the same benefits. The both of you travel down to the lower level of the arcade, talking all the while. The only people who are left besides you two are the arcade employees, cleaning up after messes made by friends and family.

At the end of your journey, the two of you are standing outside the Dragon Arcade, looking out towards traffic. Thank the stars you'd driven here in your own vehicle or you'd have a hard time getting back home.

You could always ask dearly demonic spider at your heel, but that's a possibility for another time.

Facing him, you offer a smile. "That was fun."

"Indeed."

You eye his indifferent features, his own gaze directed ahead of you, on the cars passing by. A slight frown takes hold of you. "I just realized. You never actually accepted my apology."

Brilliant green eyes lock on yours, and the spider demon offers a wry smile. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"Sorry, I'm terrible at taking hints."

A lie, sure.

But you sort of wanted to hear him say it, to soothe the ache of anxiety in your chest. Something your companion seems to realize, too, as he straightens after a pause.

"Well. Apology accepted."

Your smile returns with a will. "See? Wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Don't overdo it," he grunts, avoiding eye contact.

"Gotcha. Well, I'll see you later, then," you say, stepping backwards, as if this is your cue to leave. And perhaps it is; there's no reason for you to stay in the cold, standing for nothing with this stranger. "Drive safe, yeah?"

He nods, making no move to his car. If he'd brought one at all. "You as well."

You turn around, keys in hand.

Along with it, a slip of paper you'd forgotten to give the man during your bowling rendezvous. It almost slips from your grasp to join the wind blowing by, but you catch it quickly.

This paper.

That man. You hadn't even gotten his name.

You're halfway to your vehicle when you suddenly spin around and sprint back the way you came. You spot him walking in the opposite direction and cry out.

"Wait!"

He spins around.

Oh, how the tables have turned. Now it's his turned to be startled.

You skid to a halt in front of him, puffing out short, uneven breaths. Weakly, you grasp his hand. "Sorry, I just . . . I-I never got your name!"

A long, striking pause.

The man clears his throat. "You wish to know my name?"

You peek up at him, still breathless.

"If that's okay?"

After another slight pause, the scientist rubs the back of his neck rather than look at you. "I don't see why not. You can call me Syntax. And what of yours?"

"Um . . . I'm (Y/N)."

Your breaths mix in a cloud of adrenaline and calm, peace within the storm. Syntax smiles warmly. "A pleasure, darling."

Darling, darling, darling.

Your face catches fire, body going quite still.

Then you're turning away before he, before Syntax can question it further. "N-Nice to meet you! Bye now! Drive save! Goodbye see you later!"

And you're running, grinning like an idiot, towards your car.

He's gone by the time you turn around, breathless at the driver's door. But you're content with the knowledge that you'd squished that small slip of paper into the palm of his hand, your name and phone number scrawled in pen on the surface. He'd caught it, he'd read it (on the roof of some distant building), and fifteen minutes later, you get a text from an anonymous sender.

[Remind me to thank your friends for the headphones they forgot at the claw machine.]

Oh, you just know you're going to love this guy.

[Will do, Syntax]