me forgetting that I could be blocked by fanfic writers because I didn't put my age!!! Im sorry I'm just forgetful
im really 23, having a bachelor's degree, unemployed (kinda employed as a part timer still), rotting in my room, UNEMPLOYMENT SUCKS MAN im broke af 💔💔💔
how do older people back then go through early 20's man, i feel like my body is already crumbling down, mentally and physically
these past 4 yrs of undergrad, i went through two heartbreaks LIKE HOW THE FUCK I SURVIVED THROUGH THAT!!!! 💢💢💢‼️‼️‼️‼️
contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.
꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result. ꒱
⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.
⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).
⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.
⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”
⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.
⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.
⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.
⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.
⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”
⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.
That went to another voicemail. How long has it been? A week? The longest Sylus hasn't been able to find you. Considering he can monitor you wherever you are, it is just pissing him off. How could you go somewhere without informing him first? He doesn't care about you! it's about his resonance and the aether core.
He becomes restless because it's been fifteen fucking days and you cannot leave a damn message. What is wrong with you? Don't you understand you are affecting his work?
"Did you actually forget our deal? The absolute audacity to break the deal with me. Call me now! This is not a request"
It has been two weeks and he is starting to lose it a little bit. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness? He doesn't know.
Angry that you somehow managed to get out of his range and actually disappear.
Disappointed that he somehow managed to push you away just when you were warming up to him finally.
Sad that he cannot find you for two whole weeks. He cannot lose you again. He cannot take this loss.
Luke and Keiran haven't returned either. They went with you two weeks ago to fight a wanderer. What were those idiots actually doing without reporting every single move you make to Sylus? He will not give them their salary raise if once they get back.
"Call me please" followed by 7 whole seconds of silence was the last voicemail he left.
His phone started ringing exactly 24 days after you disappeared from his world. He tripped over the air to rush to get his phone.
"Hello"
"Hi, Sylus."
"Where were you? What happened to you? Were you thinking at all? How can you do this to me?" he asked you in a single breath
"You don't have to be mean about it. Luke and Keiran touched a little crystal resembling the Protocore. Turns out it was some artifact which trapped us in a space, not exactly in this world but I do not know where it was. Aren't you glad I am back? So many concerned voicemails!" You replied with a little bit of mirth in your tone.
"Tell me where you are I will come get you"
"Say please"
"...... Please. I missed you"
You weren't honestly expecting an answer from him.
It was like a punch to your gut. Him pleading and telling you he missed you in that tone? Were you dreaming? You quickly told him where you were.
He appeared in front of you before you even cut the call and engulfed you in a tight hug.
"I will tell you please a thousand times. Hell, want me to beg? I will get on my knees and do it. Just don't ever leave me again"
What else could you do than get closer and hug him tighter and wish you could stay in his embrace forever?
authors notes: so basically we all love clingy!sylus and i don’t think people talk about it enough, so i here i try to do him some justice </3
i tried not to mischaracterise him, but i find it difficult to imagine how he’d react. he’s a full fledged adult - 27/28 years old - so i can see him trying to be mature about it. but after a while, it gets hard to wait any longer no?
more below the cut!! :3
first few days of your absence sylus is fine, i mean it’s one day - people get busy, people get tired. sylus understands better than most that life gets tough.
he checks his messages maybe two or three times to see if you’ve responded, but nothing. that’s okay, he’ll wait for you.
after five-ish days he’s a little irritated, how could you forget about him for that long?
yeah you could be busy, but seriously?
he gives you a call but it sends straight to voicemail, to which he refuses to leave one.
i bet he secretly feels a little embarrassed at how much your absence is bothering him, and out of spite he refuses to check his phone during the day.
“Tsk, ignoring me?”
luke and kieran definitely notice his small shift in attitude - his nonchalant facade isn’t perfect after all.
they are also secretly cursing you for disappearing, i mean come on! how could you leave them with an angry boss!!
another few days pass, how long has it been since he last saw you? a week?
gets fidgety and cracks, calling you again - no reply.
when he gets sent to voicemail he speaks in his typical, slow tone.
“Why aren’t you picking up my calls, kitten? Get back to me when you listen to this.”
despite his seemingly calm voice, he’s starting to really lose his cool. your absence was unsettling, and yeah he’s disappeared before for a few days on business, he at least picks up calls.
he never leaves you clueless for even a few days, let alone a whole week.
mephisto is sent out for surveillance of the n109 zone, and sylus keeps his phone close. always in his vision, hearing range, whatever.
every notification catches his attention, eyes snapping to the illuminated screen only to slowly drag away when he sees it isn’t you.
from the first to second week of your absence, his irritability shoots up. sylus is getting agitated, brushing it off as annoyance.
after all, what the fuck did he do for you to ignore him for this long?
he texts you almost every day now, the texts getting increasingly shorter, decreasingly floral and more concerned.
“Kitten, why aren’t you picking up my calls?”
“[YN], are you really ignoring me?”
“Hello? Are you okay?”
“Call me.”
he’s calling you every other day now, his sleeping schedule is deteriorating and his mind isn’t focused.
sylus is getting angry at himself, why is he so messed up about this? so what if you haven’t spoken to him in 13 days, isn’t it pathetic to be so affected by your absence?
he lived 27+ years without you, he can live another hundred without.
yet he still finds himself rearranging the plushies you two caught together, checking for your messages, scrolling through your posts.
almost a month has passed since your disappearance, and sylus isn’t getting any better.
why did you go? are you okay? did you get hurt?
god forbid something happened to you.
he’s hired some people to search for you, fuck waiting he’s worried.
finds himself drinking more alcohol with his meals than usual, to the point where even he - a heavy weight - feels his head becoming a little dizzy, his hands twitching for his phone.
one night, after downing a bottle of wine himself, he calls you at least five times, before leaving a voicemail.
his voice lacks its usual slow, bored tone. instead his words are a little slurred, his voice seems a little higher pitched - not too much but it is noticeable - and he’s speaking a little faster too.
“[YN]? Where are you, are you okay? Please pick up, it’s been a month. Do you really- have I deterred you? I know you dislike me, have you ran away? If you have, then at least tell me you’re alive. I mi-”
he catches himself before he says it, because he’s just realised something, something that was so blatantly obvious he feels shocked that he hadn’t noticed it
he misses you, he isn’t angry. he isn’t annoyed that you disappeared, he’s upset.
the fact that it took so long for him to realise is stupid, and all he can do it sit and chuckle drunkenly to himself.
“I miss you, [YN]. Please call me back.”
when you finally call him - exactly 43 days since you left - he almost scrambles to his phone
sylus picks up immediately, yet miraculously finds himself at a loss for words. what does someone say after over a month of waiting?
kind of just stands there, frozen - if you wait before speaking you can hear his almost shaky breaths
“Hey Sylus, you miss me? You left over 13 voicemails and 65 texts, I’m touched.”
gods your voice smoothed over his tense muscles like honey
he sits down, heart beating faster than usual. it’s stupid how much hearing your voice affected him, but he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the sound.
if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fucking hard
“Come here, now.”
when you do arrive, you seriously expect to get killed or something. his tone sounded seriously pissed - i mean like the most pissed you’ve ever heard it
but when you open the door you just get swallowed into a chest and a pair of arms
if you try to move away or struggle, they just hold you tighter and restrict your actions and- oh, sylus is hugging you.
his face is angled down into your head, and you can’t see his expression - only the beating of his heart against you, and it was fast.
“Where the fuck were you? I missed you.”
explain whatever the hell you want to sylus, he’s already decided that you’re not going out without him knowing ever again
probably tries to download some sort of GPS tracker on your hunter’s watch to make sure he knows where you are
TLDR; sylus doesn’t realise how much he really cares for you until you go MIA for over a month in which he starts to genuinely tweak out! :3
AN; guys i actually spat this out in like an hour i think i might have clingy!sylus brain rot because oh my god anyways this isn’t proof read i just needed to express my love for clingy!sylus that gets worried because he isn’t just a dominant badass gang leader he’s also human and he also gets sad and upset and feels emotions argahdbansn he just sucks at recognising his own desires (get it because his evol eye can see other people’s desires but he can’t see his own :3)
Hello!!! Your biggest protector Simon fluff was SO cute!! Could we get an extension of that where he also gives you the confidence to do difficult things, and where you feel safe trying new things or messing up around him? (I know my anxiety really limits what I am willing to try, or makes me feel like I always have to be perfect or constantly apologize)
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
When you'd told Simon that you wanted to start going to the gym, you hadn't quite expected him to buy you a membership at the fancy place he and all of his friends frequent, mainly because they get a veterans discount - not to mention the fancy body wash and soft towels.
You'd not even had to dig through your drawers to find something resembling decent activewear, not when he'd unceremoniously chucked a pair of Lululemon leggings at your head, muttering about how he'd looked up the best women's sportswear and they'd been the most recommended choice.
Of course, you'd failed to consider that there'd be other people at Simon's fancy gym, people that know him, no less. You suddenly feel very, very out of your depths. As always, he recognises your discomfort almost immediately.
"Was thinking we could just start slow." He attempts to comfort you, a hand on the small of your back, herding you like a frightened animal towards one of the machines, which looks more like a torture device than workout equipment.
"See what you like, what you don't, get a feel of stuff, yeah?"
Chewing at your cheek, you give a noncommittal "Mm", nodding in an attempt to seem enthused, engaged and not worrying about the unfairly glorious people who seem to know exactly what they're doing, and without breaking a sweat no less.
The anxiety from being the only one there who doesn't seem to know anything only worsens when he sets you up on the lat machine. Your cheeks burn even redder when he sets it to the lowest weight.
Before you can protest, he settles his hands over yours on the bar, the touch immediately soothing.
"Everyone starts somewhere. Let's not run before we can walk."
Over the next couple of simple reps, he's careful to correct your form, or tell you how great you're doing, how you're practically a natural. You know he's just trying to hype you up enough to stop overthinking, but you're still happy about his support nonetheless.
So happy, in fact, that you walk out of the gym with a big, cheesy grin on your face, and an unexpected excitement for tomorrow's session.
Currently imagining Simon who helps calm reader down before a big event, maybe a presentation or an interview or something like that. While you’re freaking out and on the verge of a panic attack, he methodically goes through a little list of things that makes it sound so easy. And he’s holding you and touching you to keep you connected 🥹
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
"I feel sick." You mumble below your breath, eyes darting between your open laptop on the kitchen counter, Simon brewing you a rooibos to try and soothe your roiling tummy, and the intricately patterned kitchen tiles you'd been dead set on having, even when they took Simon almost three weeks to lay.
The slides pulled up on your screen seem to glare tauntingly at you, worsening the anxiety you've been feeling for weeks now as you've tried to perfect the pitch that might just get you promoted.
Simon, of course, has supported you every step of the way. That said, he can't find it in himself to support you going for a position when even the thought of it eats you up inside.
"Listen. Hey." He chides as you're scooped up to be plopped on the kitchen counter, your favourite mug set filled and steaming beside you.
"You've done all you can." Simon soothes, linking his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
"You've worked your ass off. Showed them all how fuckin' clever you are. You've done everything you can, and trying to fix shit now - the night before - is only going to make you stress more, yeah?"
Swirling a sip of tea around your mouth, grounding yourself with the heat of it, the herbal taste, you nod slowly, thinking over his words.
"Best thing you can do now is think about something else. Watch that stupid program you like or somethin'?"
"It's not stupid." You grumble, although he can already see the smile threatening to bloom at your cheeks, crinkle your eyes the way he loves to see.
"The main character is called Curtain. It's stupid." He teases back, resting his forehead against yours, keeping you close and grounded, in the room with him as opposed to you running away with your anxiety.
"Kurtan." You correct, defensive of your comfort show, no matter how silly it is.
"Right. Kurtan, Curtain. Semantics. Stop looking at my shitty grout and let's go watch telly, yeah? Need to stop stressing about stuff that hasn't even happened yet."
"Pot, meet Kettle." You chide back, earning yourself a light smack on the ass as you're hoisted over Simon's shoulder and involuntarily carried to the living room, slides completely forgotten.
~John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is a late sleeper; don’t expect him to get up before 10 on weekends. He is also a heavy sleeper, snoring in your ear as he pulls you closer to him, his body running hot like a furnace.
~Despite not being particularly fond of dogs, he harbors an unexpected love for cats. He even takes his cat for walks, a sight that never fails to raise eyebrows.
~Has a big family, no doubt a middle child. The MacTavishs have Sunday family dinner every week, during which you get to stuff yourself full, and there will still be a tuberwear of leftovers shoved into your hands as you leave.
~Johnny is an extrovert and seems to make friends anywhere and everywhere. You leave him to grab a can of beans in the next aisle of the grocery store and come back to him animatedly talking to older women about the price of bread these days. He knows so many people, but going out can be annoying because he has to stop and greet a handful of people each time you walk down the street or get a drink at the bar.
~He can dance surprisingly well, from the jumping and spinning on the dance floor to the slow sway in the kitchen.
~He gives you his jacket when he suspects you are cold or if there is even the slightest wind. He also uses his body to shield you from the wind and rain.
~Soap ties and unties your shoes for you out of instinct. If your laces come loose, he won’t hesitate to drop down and tie them. It doesn’t matter if you get looks in public— “won’t have you falling for someone else,” he says as he taps your shoe before standing up.
~He does math when he is sad; he says he likes it when it ends in a nice, neat number.
~Social smoker. When soap is around, Ghost seems to go through his cigarette pack much quicker. If you smoke, he lights your cigarettes for you. I can also see him vaping. He loves colorful ones and tries them all.
~Johnny has many hobbies, but the ones that keep him up until late at night are repairing electronics, kettles, toasters, hell, and even a series of laptops. He is known as the ‘repair man’ around town. Everyone brings him their broken things in the hope he can fix them. He does it for free. Sometimes, it’s a quick fix and other times; he has to take the whole thing apart and replace some pieces with other ones.
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I realise now there isn't much couple stuff, but trust I will get into it more in the next post...
Omfg why cant cod writers just not be horny bastards(affectionate?) for at least ONE MOMENT😭😭
I was reading an angsty fic with the 141 boys and so far the reader was strong and didn't give in, i was like
"Finally! a reader that doesn't pretend to hate them and doesn't fuck them every chance she gets!" :D
but guess what happened? the writer just couldn't help themselves from ruining all that build up by FUCKING ONE OF THE BOYS
ALMOST EVERYTIME I READ THESE TYPES OF STORIES THE WRITER ALWAYS MAKES THE READER HAVE A RANDOM ASS SEXUAL MOMENT DESPITE THE FACT THEY WERE LITERALLY NEGLECTED/ABUSED/ETC.
I know not all writers do this, I really do but WHYYYYYYYYY have so many of the writers I've read this type of story from follow this plot????
me:IM TIRED OF THIS GRAMPA
writers: WELL TOO DAMN BAD
(Not trying to be mean but this genuinely bugs me😭)
More Simon who doesn’t like being touched but he slowly becomes more affectionate, he seems more willing to bare himself to you, he has a hand on your shoulder blade, it’s very platonic touching, but considering it’s Simon, it’s the equivalent of a French kiss.
Simon rarely kisses you, but you’ve notice that whenever you’re sitting on a counter, he dips his head slightly, temple near your lips. “Where’s my kiss?” He’ll say gruffly.
You smile and press your lips against his hair. “Need ta wash your hair.”
“You do it.” He grumbles.
He loves it, being babied by his girlfriend in a platonic way, you’ve seen each other but never in a sexual way, which he appreciates but you’ve been very strict that nothing would happen until after marriage.
He learns to be vulnerable with you. It actually heals that part of him that he pushed aside thinking he was shameful and dirty for being sexually assaulted but he’s not.
And you handle him carefully. He’s like fractured glass that you’ve remelted and then slowly moulded into a man who is loved. And he is.
You don’t say it. Never wanting to saying first. You show it. Being together for almost two years throughout deployments and such and coming and goings you strive to be there for him. He does the same for you.
“Thanks lovie.” He says as you’re both in bed. You preen under the nickname, snuggling close to him, smiling to yourself. You think that’s the closest you’re going to get to an ‘I love you’. And that’s fine. Simon Riley shows love differently but he does it so there is no doubt in your mind.
Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.
Total ditz to be precise.
But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.
Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?
Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.
Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.
Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.
Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.
After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.
