a/n; for your favorite boys (and they've got tattoooos bro) and girl dads hehe. I feel like this trope has been written many times but i love it so much! thank you for reading! and working on momager but slow, busy with work again (×_×)
color me yours. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.
when your niece discovers another purpose for his tattoos.
♡ For all your favorites with tatted, girl-dad energy.
more of your favorite boys!
more reads!
જ⁀🏐ᯓ⚽⋆⭒˚.⋆🌌
Your niece looks up at you, wide-eyed and devastated—an expression only a five-year-old with an empty coloring book can muster. The last page lies flat on the coffee table, scribbled over in sparkly marker, the princess’s dress glowing a violent neon pink.
You sit cross-legged on the carpet, defeated. “I thought we had another one,” you murmur, rifling through old receipts, snack wrappers, and magazines in your tote. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl…”
There’s a soft shuffle behind you, then a low voice, warm and slightly amused.
“You really colored the whole book, baby?”
You look up just in time to see him crouch beside you, his large hands sliding under your niece’s arms as he lifts her effortlessly into his hold. She squeals with delight, kicking her feet in the air as he settles her on his hip.
She nods proudly, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. “Uh-huh. I finished the last page just now. The princess one!”
“No way. The entire thing?”
“Every single page!” she beams, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Even the robot one. That was boring.”
“Damn,” he says. “Felt like that was the best one, though.”
She giggles, then suddenly stills, her gaze dropping to his forearm where it wraps snug around her frame. Her brow furrows, eyes narrowing in that suspicious five-year-old way.
“...Wait.”
He lifts a brow. “What?”
Her tiny hand flattens against his bicep. “Wait.” Her voice is louder now, more urgent. She squints at the dark ink wrapping up his arm. “You have coloring book arms.”
“What?”
“Coloring book arms!” she exclaims again, delighted by her own epiphany. She pats the ink on his bicep with both hands now. “Look! It’s not even done! There’s spots you forgot to fill in!”
“Mm.” He feigns deep thought. “Guess you’re right.”
“Okay, okay, hold on, baby.” You scramble to your feet, crossing the room in three quick steps, hands raised in gentle negotiation mode. “How about we… do origami instead?” you offer, voice a touch too bright. “We can make paper frogs! Or butterflies! You love butterflies, don’t you?”
Your niece frowns at you. “Auntieeee,” she whines, hugging him tighter, “I wanna color Uncle.”
“Yeah, Auntie,” he echoes, voice completely flat and entirely unhelpful. “She wants to color me.”
You shoot him a look. “You’re not helping.”
He shrugs, shifting her higher on his hip. “Not trying to.”
Before you can protest again, your niece perks up, face shining because she’s cracked the ultimate loophole. “Oh! Auntie!” She wiggles excitedly in his arms, little hands grabbing at his shoulder. “Uncle has a tiny butterfly already! On his hips, remember? It’s on a rose! So I am still getting my butterflies!”
Oh.
She’s right.
“Shit, princess. You remember my tattoos more than me.”
୨୧ ♡ ୨୧
“M‘kay, baby. Let’s see how good of an artist you really are.”
He drops onto the rug with her, leaning back against the foot of the couch, legs stretched out long, body broad and inked under the soft lamplight. Your niece immediately clambers into his lap, her pouch of markers jingling as she unzips it.
“Where do I start?” she asks seriously, already uncapping pink.
He hums. “Dealer’s choice.”
She leans in close, examining the smoky lines across his bicep. Then, she starts coloring—little squeaks of effort leaving her as she presses the marker down hard, glitter ink bleeding into black swirls.
“Hmm,” she murmurs, chewing on her lip, “I wanna make these lines into a flower.”
“Yeah?” he says, a lazy smile tugging on his mouth as his half-lidded eyes flick toward her face. “Gonna make it pretty for me?”
“Mhmm.” She giggles and nods furiously, switching to a yellow marker for the “petals.”
You sit stiffly on the couch above them, trying so hard to look unaffected, but the picture in front of you makes your chest ache—this big, quiet man letting a five-year-old girl turn his body into her art.
He doesn’t flinch when she leans against him for balance, doesn’t complain when she presses a glitter pen too hard into his shoulder. Instead, his free hand lifts lazily, absent-mindedly catching a strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger.
“Keep still, Uncle,” she scolds, nudging his chest.
“I’m not moving,” he mutters, a ghost of a grin curving his lips.
“You’re breathing too much,” she declares.
He chuckles low in his throat, eyes flicking up to you with that dangerous, knowing glint. “Hear that, Auntie? Can’t even breathe around her.”
You shake your head, fighting a smile you don’t want him to see. “Good. Maybe she’ll finally keep you in line.”
His grin deepens as he brushes her baby bangs away from her face. “Funny. Thought that was your job.”
୨୧ ♡ ୨୧
“Auntieee,” your niece groans suddenly, tossing her marker down with dramatic flair. “I don’t know how to draw a lily. I wanna make this part a lily, and I don’t know how.”
“Sweetheart, it doesn’t have to be a lily, you can—”
“Nooo.” Her pout deepens. “It has to be a lily.” She grabs at your hand with her tiny fingers, tugging you down from the couch. “Help meee!”
“Guess you’re up,” he drawls, shifting so his arm stretches out across the rug, muscles flexing beneath half-finished ink. “C’mon, Auntie. Show her how it’s done.”
Your niece bounces on his lap, nodding furiously. “Yes, yes! Auntie, you draw the lily! Right here!” She points to a bare patch of smoky linework trailing over his abs.
You hesitate, marker clutched in your hand. That spot is criminally low, dangerously close to the waistband of his sweats.
But your niece is looking at you with those big pleading eyes. And he’s—well, he’s looking at you with a smug curve to his mouth; he knows you’re cornered.
So you exhale slowly and lean in.
As soft light spills over his skin, warm bronze painting over the ridges of his stomach, you let the tip of the marker touch the base of one smoky line, dragging it upward, using his tattoo as the stem of the lily. The glittery green bleeds into black ink, winding its way higher as your niece thrums happily.
“Yayyy! It’s a flower now!” she cheers, her tiny hands pawing excitedly at his abs, trying to help you “hold him still.” Her palms press into the hard ridges of muscle, pat-pat-patting at his stomach with every new petal you add.
He chuckles, the sound rumbling under your palm where you steady yourself against him, and his abs flex. The lines tighten beneath your niece’s hands—beneath your careful strokes. The tattoo shifts with the movement, smoke twisting, the lily stem you’re sketching curving naturally over muscle.
“You’re making it hard to draw,” you mutter, glaring at him.
“Am I?” His eyes are sharp on you, watching every flicker in your expression.
“Uncle! Don’t move!” Your niece smacks his stomach with both hands.
He grins, closing one eye at her. “I’ll try, princess. But Auntie’s tickling me.”
You snap your gaze up. “I am not—”
Before you can argue further, your niece gasps and announces, “Wait! I’m gonna add a butterfly! Right on the lily!”
She grabs a purple marker, tongue poking out as she carefully draws the tiniest, messiest butterfly beside the glittery petals you’ve just sketched. The wings are uneven, one bigger than the other, but she beams proudly.
He tips his head down, eyes flicking over her art. “Not bad,” he murmurs. “Think I’m ready to book you for my next sleeve.”
She giggles, “I don’t charge money.”
He smirks. “Lucky me.”
୨୧ ♡ ୨୧
The three of you fall into an easy rhythm after that—her humming softly, switching markers every few minutes; you sketching a few lines when she insists she needs your “grown-up help”; him letting himself be colored in without a single complaint.
By the time half an hour drifts past, the floor around you is scattered with uncapped markers, stray pen caps, and glitter smudges on the rug. Your niece’s excitement has dwindled to slow motions and tiny yawns. She wiggles one last butterfly onto the crook of his collarbone before her hand goes slack, marker slipping from her fingers.
With a little sigh, she curls into his chest.
He shifts instinctively, steadying her with one large palm against her back. She settles there, cheek pressed against his bare skin, her breaths evening out.
He glances at you over her head. “Out like a light.”
But just before she goes fully under, her voice mumbles against him, half-dreamy: “Auntie… finish the butterfly… the one on Uncle’s rose… wanna see it pretty… tomorrow.”
You snort as he huffs a quiet laugh, eyes locking on yours. “Orders straight from the boss.”
You glance down at the spot she means—the delicate rose tattoo inked low on his hip, the faint outline of a butterfly perched on its petals. It’s unfinished, uncolored, the ink dark but empty.
The place is… intimate. Too intimate.
Still, her hand pats blindly at his chest, making sure you heard her, before going completely slack. She’s asleep now, trusting you to follow through.
He leans his head back against the couch, watching you from under hooded lids, lips curving slowly. “Well?” His voice is a low rumble. “Gonna tell her no?”
Your fingers tighten around the marker.
“No,” you whisper, moving closer beside him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, so soft you almost miss it.
And with your niece fast asleep on his chest, you reach down and press the tip of the marker to the butterfly on his hip.
The spot is warm under your hand, his skin smooth and taut, the faint rise and fall of his breath brushing against your knuckles as you lean in close. You trace the delicate lines slowly, filling the wings with soft strokes. A little purple, a little blue, dots of yellow where the veins of the wings curve. You make it extra pretty; your niece asked for a butterfly, but you’re making sure it’s one worth remembering.
You’re so focused you barely notice how quiet he’s gone, how his head has tilted, cheek resting lazily against the crown of your niece’s hair, but his gaze is pinned entirely on you.
He loves the way you’re concentrating, lips pressed together in thought, brows drawn ever so slightly as if you’re tattooing him for real and not just coloring him in with glitter pens, loves that you’re close enough he can feel the faint brush of your hair against his side, that you’re steadying yourself with one palm flat on the floor beside his thigh.
“Serious face,” he mutters.
You glance up quickly, cheeks heating. “I want it to look nice.”
“Already does.” His gaze drifts down, catching the way your hand lingers on his hip a second too long, fingers brushing the waistband of his sweats.
୨୧ ♡ ୨୧
“C’mere, baby.”
He shifts just enough to free his other leg, the one not occupied by your niece curled up and dreaming against his chest. With his free hand, he tugs gently at your wrist until you move, climbing onto his thigh carefully. His arm circles your waist, pulling you in until there’s no room for hesitation. You can feel the strength in him, but he’s holding you soft because you’re as precious as the little girl breathing against his collarbone.
His face is close, hair falling over hooded eyes that don’t leave yours. He dips his head, brushing his lips over yours in the sweetest kiss. His mouth moves against yours once, then again, lingering and stealing every thought from your head, leaving only the warmth of him behind.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his voice is a secret meant for you alone. “You two can color me in forever.”
You laugh softly, though it cracks around the edges, your chest full to bursting. And when you kiss him back this time, it feels like a promise.
synopsis: a villain's quirk transports you and katsuki's kid from the future to the present! except you're.. not even dating?
a request!
notes: this is a lil diff from my usual unofficialbf!katsuki bc that version ive been writing is like positive ur gonna get married meanwhile this one is like "whos ur mommy?" HO U SHOULD ALR KNOW. *pow pow* i dont usually do interesting rqs like this but i figured ill try it out
it starts with a pop.
a shimmer of light in the middle of the ua training field, a blink of time bending strangely, and suddenly there’s a kid standing there.
small. blond. scowling.
he’s maybe four or five, fists clenched at his sides, little combat boots planted firmly like he’s ready to fight anything that so much as looks at him wrong. it’s quiet for a second.
“who the hell are you people?! where's my mom and my dad?!”
the entire class freezes.
izuku opens his mouth, then closes it. the kid looks really familiar to him. ochako makes a small noise. katsuki, standing off to the side, scoffs like he’s already over it.
“the fuck kinda dumb training is this..”
the kid’s head whips toward him, (e/c) eyes wide.
“daddy?!”
katsuki chokes.
“..HAH?!”
the kid runs full-speed across the field and crashes into him. little arms wrap around katsuki’s legs like he’s safe. like he knows him. katsuki looks like he’s been struck by lightning.
the kid beams up at him. “you look.. younger than normal. but you still look cool!”
“the hell?!”
“bakugo!” aizawa barks. “watch your mouth. that’s clearly a child.”
"looks like he already knows how to swear anyways.." katsuki growls under his breath but says nothing more. he awkwardly pats the boy’s beaming head like he’s defusing a bomb.
they figure it out eventually. it was a villain's quirk. time displacement or something of the sort. temporary, but irreversible until the cooldown ends.
so now… there’s just a tiny version of his future kid hanging out in the dorms.
-
“where’s mommy?” he says, pouting.
katsuki stiffens. “..who's 'mommy?'”
“...mommy,” the kid answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
katsuki groans. "what do i call her?"
the kid ponders for a second. "sweets. and sweetheart. sometimes baby or mama, too."
katsuki's entire body flushes. "i do not!"
"you do!"
"i do not!"
"you do!"
katsuki growls at the kid, cheeks and ears on fire. "her name. do i never call her by name?"
and then you walk in. rubbing sleep out of your eyes, hoodie too big, hair messy, and katsuki doesn’t even notice how his gaze softens.
but the kid does.
his face lights up.
“mommy!!”
you blink. “what.”
before you can react, he’s launching into your arms like he’s done it a million times.
you catch him. hold him.
and… oh.
you melt, instantly. soft smiles, hands carding gently through his hair.
katsuki’s instantly realizes what this means.
his future kid's mom is you.. meaning his future wife is also you.
oh.
you look at him over the kid’s shoulder. “who's this? he looks just like you!"
“he’s doesn't.”
"he does! same hair and face and everything! different eye color, though."
the kid tilts his head. “you sleep in the same bed in the future.”
you choke on your own spit. katsuki goes red fast.
“no we don’t-”
“daddy gives her forehead kisses,” the kid adds helpfully.
you stare.
katsuki turns away, face burning.
you press a kiss to the kid’s head despite your beating heart, eyes a little soft, like your heart’s doing dangerous things.
-
over the next few days, katsuki is quiet.
he takes care of the kid without complaint. makes his lunch, lets him nap curled into his side, shields him with an arm anytime someone gets too close.
he watches the way you brush crumbs off the boy’s cheeks, how you tie his shoes, how you hold his hand like he’s something small and precious.
you’re a team already.
and katsuki wants that. more than he’s ever wanted anything.
the night before the quirk’s cooldown ends, the kid curls up in katsuki’s bed with you on one side and him on the other. he’s fast asleep.
you’re barely awake.
“you’re good at this,” you murmur, voice quiet in the dark. “you’d be a good dad.”
katsuki swallows.
“only if it was with you.”
you blink.
then smile. small. shy. warm like summer mornings.
he leans in, presses a kiss to your forehead, just like the kid said he would.
and maybe the future’s still far away, maybe nothing’s set in stone yet.
synopsis: katsuki hates admitting it, but even he needs a good cry every now and then.
notes: reverse comfort!! idk if anyone thought this during the show too but katsuki lowk cries often during the show. not like izuku but hes def shed many tears. love a man who can cry! (well he wasn't rly in this fic but i felt it was too ooc to have him regularly crying in reader's arms yk)
the day had been rough. katsuki had been pushed to his limits with a particularly exhausting patrol, and no matter how much he tried to keep his head in the game, the weight of everything kept piling on. hero work was draining. no matter how hard he worked and how fiercely he fought, it piled faster than he could fight. he felt like he was kicking as hard as he could and was still drowning.
when he came back to your apartment, he was quieter than usual and slightly more withdrawn. you could tell something was off, even though he tried to act like nothing was wrong. he tossed his jacket onto the couch and went straight to the kitchen, barely making eye contact as you greeted him.
you knew katsuki well enough to know that when he was like this, he needed space. but you also knew that he wasn’t going to directly ask for comfort. he’d rather die than admit when he’s struggling, but you’d learned how to read him.
you waited a little, giving him a few moments to himself. then, you stood up and walked over to where he was sitting at the kitchen counter, his hand rubbing his eyes like he was trying to rub away the exhaustion.
“hey,” you said quietly, leaning against the counter. “you okay?”
he didn’t look at you at first. “’m fine,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than usual. “just tired.”
but you could hear it in his voice. the strain, the crack in it. the way he seemed a tad less soft and a bit more grumbly. you knew he wasn’t just tired. katsuki was always quick to brush things off, not wanting to believe he wasn't indestructible, but he didn’t fool you. you took a small step closer, your presence quiet and steady.
“want me to make you something to eat?” you asked softly, trying to break the tension.
he shook his head but then looked up at you, just a little too late to hide the emotion in his eyes. his eyes were a little too dull, his shoulders a little too stiff. bakugo katsuki, the strongest, most explosive, prideful, and hot-headed person you knew looked fragile for just a moment.
you knew it wasn’t something he’d ever admit, but in that moment, he was struggling. he was holding everything in, trying to maintain his tough guy persona. but it was too much. the weight of the day, the pressure, the endless expectations.
without thinking, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him.
at first, he didn’t move, but you could feel the tension in his body. he was stiff, like he was trying to fight it, trying to keep the tears locked inside. but you weren’t going to let him. you’d seen this side of him before, and you weren’t about to let him suffer alone.
“hey,” you murmured, your voice soft as you pressed your cheek against his. “it’s okay to not be okay. you don’t have to be tough all the time, you know? doesn't make you any less strong to need a break.”
for a second, he was silent, the words hanging between you. then, suddenly, you felt his body relax. his head dropped down onto your shoulder, and you could hear the hitch in his breath. you could feel the wetness against your skin.
you ran your hand up and down his back, not saying anything. you knew he hated to cry. katsuki was always so guarded, always trying to be the one to take care of others, to be the one who never showed weakness. but in your arms, in this space, he didn’t have to be anything but himself.
“’m sorry,” he muttered after a few moments, his voice shaking a little. “i don’t... i don’t need this. i’m not some fucking baby.”
you chuckled softly and ran your hands through his hair, feeling the way he shivered slightly but leaned into it. “you’re not a baby, katsuki. you’re human. it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to let go. you don’t always have to be perfect. especially not with me.”
he sniffled, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he pressed closer to you, the heat of his body radiating through the both of you. “i hate feelin' like this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i hate feelin' weak.”
“i know,” you whispered softly, squeezing him tighter. “it takes a lot of strength to let yourself be vulnerable, though. i'm proud of you, kats.”
katsuki’s shoulders shook slightly, and you felt his arms move around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you felt him breathe in and out, pressing you even closer to ground himself. you smiled knowing he was letting himself be a tad vulnerable.
eventually, his breathing evened out, and the tears stopped. he wasn’t crying anymore, but there was a softness to him now that you hadn’t seen when he walked in.
“’m good now,” he muttered, pulling away just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze soft but still intense. “don’t fucking tell anyone about this.”
you smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “wouldn't dream of it.”
he grunted in response, the edge of his usual cocky attitude returning. “damn right.”
but you could tell, even through his gruffness, that he appreciated the comfort. and deep down, he knew that no matter how much he tried to hide it, you were always going to be there, whether he was tough and strong, crying and vulnerable, or somewhere in between.
you loved him always and unconditionally, and he was forever grateful to have you.
summary — your a popular idol who debuted as a soloist and now, you’ve been given your own variety show. your boyfriend — tsukishima kei shouldn’t be jealous of the fans shipping you with an idol, you’re in a relationship with him not exo’s chanyeol.
starring — tsukishima kei x idol!reader, fem!reader
features — angst, jealous!tsukishima, angst with comfort, timeskip, + appearance from exo’s chanyeol!
author's note — hiya! this is purely self indulgent, i wanted to write more about tsukishima kei + idol!reader <3 i have mixed feelings about this post, ONLY because i feel like it’s a little ooc but i hope you all enjoy ❕
when you first told tsukishima you’d be getting your own youtube variety show— he tugged you on his lap and peppered kisses all over your face as to say “congratulations”.
you’d explained the concept centered around baking, and that majority of your guest would vary between other kpop idols, influencers & athletics
it’s ONLY the first episode of your new variety show, it’s 30 minutes of sweet interactions between you and Exo’s Chanyeol
tsukishima pretends he isn’t bothered by the comments under your variety show, he acts like he isn’t fazed by the intense shipping going on in the comments
he pretends he hasn’t read every single comment under the video
nonamenolife: i’ll never get over them
dee (name’s version): they’re happily married in my head
chole luvs kai: love the way they got married in the end and now have three kids
tsukishima acts like he didn’t report several users who were trying to manifest a relationship blossoming between you and the male idol
he reminds himself over and over again, “it’s just your job, you’re supposed to have chemistry with everyone”
tsukishima can’t stop himself from watching the video, the way chanyeol comes in with a large bouquet of flowers as a way to congratulate you on your variety show
chanyeol seems very in tune with you, he notices the way you struggle to tie your apron due to your nails so he rushes over and helps you
the way chanyeol ties your hair up into a ponytail to keep any strands from covering your face
you don’t have to ask him for help, chanyeol just knows when you need his help
fans under the comments joke that chanyeol has the “y/n sense”
throughout the entire video there isn’t a moment you aren’t smiling or laughing, tsukishima wonders if you look that happy around him?
he can’t help overthink. if you dated someone in your industry you wouldn’t have to fly back and forth from South Korea to Japan
if you dated someone like Chanyeol you would have someone who doesn’t just understand you but understands the struggles and pressures that come with being an idol
you and chanyeol are both, at a point in your careers where you’d be allowed to a public and comfortable relationship without worrying too much about the safety of the other person
unlike you and kei, your company insisted on keeping your relationship a secret in order to protect tsukishima from public scrutiny as well as your toxic fan base
tsukishima knows he shouldn’t allow this to hurt him the way it does, he should just close his laptop and pretend it doesn’t effect him
but the thought of you leaving him for someone so talented breaks his heart
“kei, you okay?” tsukishima whips his head around to see you at the entrance of your shared home, you aren’t greeting him with your usual warm smile. instead, you’re head is tilted slightly to the right, nose scrunched in confusion and your eyes are filled with concern. he doesn’t hesitate to force a small smile on his lips rushing to your side and planting a kiss on your forehead.
he notices the way your staring up at him, the color of your eyes darken as you try and figure out what’s wrong without him needing to tell you. “it was just a long day at work,” kei lies, his long and slender fingers fiddling with each other.
kei isn’t being himself and it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “you read the comments didn’t you?” your voice is soft, and the way your hands cup his cheeks forcing him to look down at you, it’s gentle and warm. kei tries to avoid your gaze, but then you say his name and he can’t help look into your loving eyes.
“i love you,” neither of you say those three words often, you’ve both become accustomed to showcasing your love through your actions. “no one else but you.” and when one of you do say those words, it’s too remind the other that you are here and you don’t plan on leaving.
his golden brown eyes are still filled with uncertainty, and his cheeks are a tad bit rosy pink due to feeling embarrassed about the way kei feels about the situation. you just came home, the two of you should be in the comfort of your bed, with you laying your head on his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair to lure you into a sleep kei knows you desperately need.
a smile tugs on the corner of your lips and before he can say a word, you begin to pepper his face with kisses forcing out a chuckle from the blonde. tsukishima lifts you up off the floor, your legs wrapping around his waist. “i’m going to marry you soon.”
you stare into his eyes with a cheeky grin on your lips, the palm of your hands cupping his pale cheeks, “don’t threaten me with a good time.”
made this collection for myself and to keep track of everything I've read so far. some are crossposted on tumblr and ao3 so I'll try to add both links (though i might miss some so let me know).
Status: Unedited & No symbols; will make second list soon
Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.
A/N -> I'm sorry it took so long. I have been obsessing over trying to make part two perfect but I don't think I can. It's time I share my baby with you, and I really hope you enjoy it.
Tags -> Angst, fluff :)
Trigger Warnings -> Character death, heavily mentions grief. Some parts are suggestive but there is no smut.
Word Count -> 18.8K (it got kinda crazy)
Late October
It was cold, dark and gloomy; the weather a perfect pathetic fallacy to the narrative of your life. The freshly disturbed patch of grass failed to convey the significance of who laid underneath it. It was vexing, how the world continued to spin on it’s axis despite the fact that it stopped spinning for you.
It hurt to think about the events that led to your undoing. The weeks prior to the moment your mother drew her last breath. You were a cracked vase filled with wilting flowers and overflowing regret. Every breath you took consumed more energy than you could spare and yet the world just. Kept. Spinning.
“I brought you flowers. Yellow tulips, by the way.” The words felt like lead on your tongue. It was one thing to accept your mother was never coming back, it was another to try to act normal about it. “I know you never cared for them, but I didn’t think leaving a pack of cigarettes on your grave was very tasteful.” You bitterly smiled to yourself at the memories of your mom sneaking a cigarette in the backyard when she thought you were asleep. It was a nasty habit you did everything to rid her of. A fruitless attempt to protect her from the inevitable.
“I’m sorry I haven’t figured out your epitaph yet. It’s just so hard to condense your entire life into a few words. Plus, they charge by the letter, so I’m trying to be really selective.” It felt weird, speaking into empty space, but you read online that it helped with grief, so you tried anyway.
That was how you approached most things nowadays. Eating, drinking, sleeping, they all seemed meaningless. But, you knew you couldn’t survive on just antagonism and mourning, so you did it anyway.
“Zayne called again. I know you told me not to hate him and that it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t bring myself to agree.”
The moment Zayne told you that the heart that could save your mother’s life was going to someone else replayed in your mind like a scratched vinyl stuck on an aggravating note.
“I got so frustrated by his constant calls that I threw my phone into the ocean.” You let out a sad laugh. “Guess that’s the last time I bring anything with me when I’m walking along the coast.”
You paused for a moment, feeling stupid. But you had so much to say to her, it all just began spilling out.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I might lose the house. I burned through all my paid leave, and the idea of going back to work for Sylus makes me want to put my head through a wood-chipper. I know I have to, but how can I focus on work when I have nothing left to work for?” You tasted the tears before you felt them, the saltiness reminded you of your weekends at the beach with your mom. You did everything to get out of joining her, you hated the beach, but it was her favourite place to be and in a desperate attempt to cling on to whatever was left of her, you forced it to be yours too.
“I’m sorry I never got you that house you dreamed of, or the dog. I’m sure there are lots of dogs in heaven, and at least the dogs there have been screened. With my luck any dog I would’ve gotten you would’ve been evil.” You teetered around the grievance you truly wanted to apologise for.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t spend much time with you before you passed away. I was so sure you would get the transplant. I tried so hard to save for it. I should’ve been with you. If I knew—” The sobs raked through you with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs. You sat down next to her tombstone, leaning your head against the chiseled rock.
There were moments when you’d wake up, and in the haze of your muddled mind you’d forget she was dead. But then the ache in your body is deciphered by your mind, and you’re reminded of just how much you’ve lost. Maybe that’s why they called it mourning. Grief dawned on you like the rising sun.
Life had a way of being entirely unfair, and there was nowhere to hide from fate’s piercing claws. And as if to ensure you hadn’t forgotten just how cruel life could be, your head whipped around at the sound of footsteps behind you to find the last person you wanted to see.
Sylus was dressed in a long black coat hanging effortlessly off of his broad shoulders, a black dress shirt that really should’ve been buttoned up to the top, and a pair of black slacks that made his long legs look impossibly longer. He looked every bit the cunning grim reaper, and it wasn’t just because he was surrounded by graves.
“I didn’t know you were back in the N109 Zone.” The words came out harsher than you intended as your head returned to it’s position against the rock.
Sylus stopped in front of you, lowering himself to his haunches so that you would be face-to-face. It stung to look at him, so you focused on picking at the grass instead.
“I only got back a few hours ago. I heard about your mother. I’m sorry.” Having been deprived of his voice for over a month, you cursed the butterflies that coursed through you like muscle memory. Part of you wished he’d returned disfigured, but you knew it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Ugly or devastatingly beautiful, the storm that was Sylus could not be stopped, only weathered.
“Sorry that she died or sorry that you weren’t there?” The bitterness in your tone was unfamiliar to you. Even though you knew it was unfair of you to expect him to have stayed, he left immediately after he dropped you off at the hospital and you hoped he’d have been there just a little longer. It didn’t help that you didn’t hear from him until two weeks later, and by then you were too engrossed in your battle against Akso hospital’s medical board to respond.
“You haven’t been answering my calls; they’re not even going through anymore. You haven’t blocked me, have you?” Sylus countered your question with one of his own. If you cared enough, you might’ve called him out on his diversion.
“No, my phone broke.” That was an understatement if there ever was one.
“How long ago?”
“A week.” That much was true and since you couldn’t afford a smart phone, a shitty $30 flip phone weighed down your pocket.
“And all the times I called before then?” Sylus’s eyes perused you with intensity, and you suddenly felt self-conscious. You weren’t dressed well, in a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you and a matching hoodie. Grieving people were allowed to dress terribly without judgement, Y/N. It’s okay.
“I didn’t feel like picking up.” The grass continued to bare the brunt of your nerves as you answered. The you that wasn’t effectively an orphan would’ve made up some excuse to protect his feelings, but you were resolved to change that. Your mother was strong, independent, and she never backed down from a fight. Not against men like Sylus, and not against her illness. If you wanted to honour her memory then you had to live your life the way she’d want you to.
“Do you have a phone now?”
You reached into the pocket of your sweatpants to take out the grey flip phone. You watched as Sylus bit back a laugh.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“I don’t need you to get me anything.” You quickly retorted.
“You’re going to need a phone from this century if you’re working for me, Y/N.” He said it so casually, as if you were put on this earth solely to serve him as his accountant.
“Right, about that…” Your determination to be confident and unapologetic began to dwindle as you wondered how to tell Sylus you needed more time.
“No. Resigning is not an option.” Twelve minutes. It took Sylus twelve minutes to return to his usual controlling self. You were impressed, truly, it was a new record after all.
“We don’t have a blood pact, Sylus. I can resign if I want to. Besides, that’s not what I was going to say. I need more time off.” You didn’t sound very convincing, but it wasn’t like you could change who you were overnight. It would take a lifetime to unlearn your bad habits.
Sylus looked conflicted, as if he didn’t know what to say. When he chose to finally open his mouth, you wished he hadn’t.
“I’ve given you a month, Y/N. That’s enough.” His statement came out so matter-of-factly, you wondered if you had imagined it. A month was not nearly enough to recover from losing your mom, but you figured a man who killed people for a living wouldn’t understand.
“It’s only been two weeks since she died. And I’m sure the temp you’ve got is perfectly competent.”
“The temp doesn’t know the company like you do and I haven’t bothered teaching him on the premise that you were returning. If you’re not back soon I can’t promise you’ll have a job to come back to.”
The tension in the air dissipated as you began to laugh. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Hysterically.
“You— You seriously think I care whether or not I have a job? I can barely will myself to eat right now—employment is not my priority.” You wiped back the tears that began to spill out. Their origin unknown, between your hysteria and sorrow, your eyes were constantly puffy.
“People die all the time, sweetheart. It’s no reason to throw your future away.” Sylus stood up straight at the end of his statement, holding his hand out to you.
The angel on your shoulder whispered that in his own peculiar way, this was his attempt at comforting you. But you stopped listening to that angel when they buried your mom under six-feet of dirt, and you couldn’t help the word vomit that escaped you like water barrelling out of a splintered dam.
You pushed away his hand, and stood up to look at him with a ferocity you didn’t know you possessed.
“I get that something really dark and twisted must have happened in your youth to make you so heartless, but most people have shitty childhoods, sweetheart. We choose not to be terrible, insufferable people because of it.” The unbridled rage you’d spend so long trying to suppress seeped out of you uncontrollably as you screamed at Sylus. You walked toward him, your anger taking hold of you as you began to push him away. A few months ago you would’ve given anything to touch him, now all you cared about was making him feel a semblance of the pain he instilled in you.
“Some of us choose to feel our emotions in their entirety, regardless of how much it hurts, because we’re not scared to love and lose. You’re a coward, Sylus and you may think that my mother dying is just an inevitable consequence of life, but my world will never be the same.” In an attempt to calm down, you took a deep breath.
“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.” The word vomit continued, and when you saw the hurt flash briefly within his eyes, you felt the arms of regret begin to sink their claws into you.
You shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t you.
But before you could take it all back, Sylus’s phone began ringing and you figured from the urgency in which he answered it must’ve been her.
“I lost track of time, I’ll be right there.” He spoke in a low voice in what you could only assume was an attempt to mask the fact that he was leaving you for something more important, again.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“Just go.” You waved him off and turned back around to face your mother’s grave, though now the tears welling up in your eyes couldn’t be entirely attributed to the grief.
Early November
You weren’t sure time could heal the gaping wound your mother’s passing left behind, but grief had settled into your life like an imposing aunt. It was in your home, touching your things, ruining your food, and never once leaving you alone. It didn’t feel so all-consuming anymore, but it clung onto you constantly like a shadow.
You were watching the third Harry Potter movie at 8am when you received the eviction notice via Email. You’d been expecting it, ultimately you were behind on rent, but the reason plastered on the paper was exponentially worse than your own incompetence.
…Selling to developers…suburban expansion project…
As if losing your childhood home wasn’t bad enough, they were planning on destroying it. Memories were bound to decay with time, that was an inevitable consequence of being human. Sooner or later you’d forget the way your mom dressed, or the smell of her perfume. Tangible things like photographs, places, they kept those memories anchored. You couldn’t lose the house, it wasn’t an option.
You spent the next hour trying to reason with your landlord over the phone, but he was committed to selling. He rejected every single one of your proposals, though even you knew they were weak at best. The developers were offering significantly more than market value, there was no way you could beat that. Stupid gentrification. But, your landlord told you he was sympathetic, and the deal hadn’t been finalised just yet. If you could match the developer’s offer by the end of the month, he’d gladly sell it to you instead.
Of course the developer’s offer was $800,000, and by the looks of your financials, you were about $796,312 short.
Desperate for a catharsis for your unending frustration, you screamed into the throw pillow on your couch until your throat felt raw. Then, you opened up your laptop to figure out a plan.
30 minutes later you had:
Sell your kidney to an organ broker and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score.
Dabble briefly in prostitution and use the money to get a loan from any dodgy bank that would accept your mediocre credit score.
Become a squatter and protest the demolition of your home environmental-activist style.
“Wow, Y/N. Graduated top of your class and this was all you could come up with, huh?” You muttered to yourself as you stared at the list of terrible ideas. Your mind hadn’t come up with something so horrific since the bed-in-breakfast Mother’s Day fiasco when you were 11.
The only option that didn’t end in bodily harm or a prison sentence was to work as many jobs as humanly possible for the next few weeks in hopes you could somehow manage to accumulate the deposit for a loan. You could probably sell some appliances too, and maybe revisit the kidney idea if it came to it.
Despite it being a long-shot, you had to try. You changed into a pair of flared leggings and a sweater. It was basic and borderline mismatched but traversing your explosive closet was a large undertaking you tended to avoid. You dug a copy of your old resume out from your file drawer, after all, it wasn’t like your experience as Onychinus’s accountant was going to do you any good. Further, listing Sylus as a reference would ensure you never got a job again.
You figured the easiest place to start was the central district of the N109 zone, bars and restaurants there were constantly hiring and from what you’d heard their only requirement was that you had two functioning legs and arms. But when you tried to leave through the door to begin the job search you collided with a formidable wall.
Since when was there a—
“Where you headed to, Y/N?” The familiar voice was so surprising it made you jump, the action accompanied by a shrill scream.
“What the fuck? Why are you just standing outside my door?” You rarely ever swore and you were sure that if your mother was still alive she’d throw her shoe at you for using the devil’s language. But of all the things you expected to see that morning, Sylus outside your door was not one of them.
“Is that any way to welcome your old employer?” Sylus stepped into your home without an invitation. Conclusive proof against your theory that he was secretly a vampire.
“What are you doing here?” You asked again, still staring at Sylus like he sprouted a second head. You couldn’t think of a single reason why he’d show up at your place of residence, he never did while you were still his employee.
“I need you to come back.” You choked back a laugh at his ridiculous request. Was he insane?
“Go to hell.” Your vicious response didn’t sway Sylus.
“I’ve fired an accountant every week since you left. The accounts are in complete disarray, half my businesses are behind on their bills, the other half have been paying the wrong amounts to the wrong companies. My investors are unhappy, my debtors are one week away from assuming I’ve gone bankrupt and I haven’t slept in weeks. Come. Back.” While it stroked your ego to hear that the organisation was suffering in your absence, you couldn’t just forget the terrible way he’d treated you in and out of the workplace.
“You insisted I was especially replaceable and now you’re saying you can’t replace me?” You chose to remind him of just how horrid of an employer he was, an action he didn’t appreciate.
“If you’re going to dwell on the semantics I’d rather just cut to the chase. What’s it going to take to get you back?” Sylus’s tone suggested he was truly trying to negotiate with you. Of course a man like him didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
“Pigs to fly.” You quipped, opening your door in hopes he’d get the hint and leave.
“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t survive without you.” His desperation went straight to your head, but you stood your ground.
“Then die.” You tried to shove him out of your doorway, but he was about as easy to move as a truck.
“Everyone has something they desire, sweetheart. Name your price.” While you were ready to fire up a quick retort, his suggestion reminded you of the very reason you were about to leave the house.
Perhaps this was a sign; you could swallow your pride if it meant you got to keep your home.
You pretended to give it thought, sighing loudly in contemplation. “Fine. I want a sign-on bonus. Or in this case, a re-sign-on bonus, I guess…” You trailed off, unsure if he would agree.
“Alright, how much?” He was quick to accept your terms, and you decided to test the waters of just how desperate he was for your return.
“A million dollars.”
“Done.”
Dammit, you should’ve asked for more.
“I want a personal driver too, I’m sick of biking to work.” You would’ve been okay with just the bonus, after all, it was insanely generous. But you’d be a fool not to milk this opportunity for what it was worth.
“Anything else, princess?” The condescending nickname only added fuel to the fire as you fired off more requests.
“I don’t want to share my office with the twins anymore, they’re loud and annoying and they have no respect for the sanctity of my monthly budgets.”
“Okay.”
You masked your shock at his sudden magnanimity. “One last thing. Since you’ve come to the realisation that I am, in fact, a valuable asset to your organisation, you’re not allowed to be a dick to me anymore.”
“Elaborate.”
“No more calling me stupid or other degrading insults, threatening my job security, threatening my life — just no more threats in general — and if you’re going to assign me extra work that is beyond the scope of my job description, a please and thank you would be nice.”
“You’re pushing it, Y/N.” Of course treating his employees like human beings was the most difficult request.
“You just agreed to give me a million dollars and being nice to me is where you draw the line?”
Sylus sighed, deliberating in silence for a moment. When he saw that your resolve was unrelenting, he begrudgingly agreed. He wasn’t sure where your newfound confidence was coming from, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive.
“Alright, you’ve made your case. I’ll agree to your conditions. Now, please fix it.”
It took every fibre of your being not to break out into song and dance at your victory. “Let me get my coat.”
______________
You stared at the horrific mess your beautiful spreadsheet had turned in to. This was a disaster. A colossal, unfathomable disaster. “How could you let it get this bad?” Your voice was dripping with fear, it was like staring a train wreck.
“It wasn’t like it happened on purpose. Besides, if you’d never—” Sylus interrupted his own sentence which you were sure contained an insult, and you could almost hear the evil chuckle resounding in your head at the sight of his obedience. This was going to be fun.
“This is going to take forever to fix.” It would actually only take the day, but you didn’t need to tell him that.
“I need it fixed by the end of the week. Please.” He looked pained as he added the nicety. Soooooo much fun.
“Add on a massage chair for my office and I’ll get it done by Wednesday.” You wondered just how far you could push his desperation.
“Deal.” He held his hand out for you to shake and when you did, you felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Now you could tell people ‘How to Tame Your Dragon’ was loosely based on your life.
“You know, Sylus, I’m liking this new dynamic.” Your shit-eating grin couldn’t be wiped off of your face no matter how hard you tried.
“Oh I can tell. Now, get to work.” Sylus made a show of pulling out your office chair for you, and when you sat in it for the first time in two months, you felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. And for once, the recollection of your past didn’t hurt as much as it usually did.
Mid-November
This time around, your employment under Sylus was much more pleasant. Surprisingly, he’d actually adhered to your conditions.
The twins were slightly offended that you no longer wanted to share your office with them, but their gratefulness for your return trumped any antagonism they had for you. You were kind of a celebrity in Onychinus’s executive team, their saviour, if you will.
But, the enjoyment of your newly established status could not be savoured. Undoing months of mistakes was turning out to be positively exhausting. You were an accountant; socially awkward, stuck to her Excel sheets, spent most of her free time indulging in shitty rom-coms. You were not built for briefing CEOs, Chairmen, investors, subsidiaries and of course, debtors, on your commitment to stability via video call.
Sylus insisted it had to be you, even though he usually handled the bureaucratic part of the organisation. Something about him not being able to answer their questions regarding the numbers. You told him you would tell him what to say through an ear piece like a spy movie, but he responded with a resounding no.
It was more like ‘hell will freeze over before I turn into a glorified puppet, Y/N, blah blah blah’.
Every single one-on-one conference call made you feel like you were getting hives. Not to mention the active effort it took you to refrain from making stupid jokes at every opportunity. When the last one with the representative from Onychinus’s main bank was over, you had officially smoothed over all bad blood between Onychinus and it’s stakeholders.
Giving yourself a moment to recalibrate from the sheer amount of social interaction you had been subjected to, you glared at the shared calendar event. ‘Miss Hunter’s Birthday in 13 days’.
You tried to distract yourself from that familiar sinking feeling in your gut with your work. Sylus never remembered your birthday, but it wasn’t like it mattered. You were his accountant, he was your boss. That was the extent of your relationship, even though you’d both said things to each other that would cause your HR department, if you had one, to self-emulate. But in the chaos of buying your home, going back to work and learning how to navigate life with your unwanted companion; grief, you’d forgotten all about your feelings for Sylus.
They weren’t gone but they were muted, like a voice screaming out to you while your head was underwater. Most of the time they were easy to ignore, but in times like these they were too loud to overlook.
You couldn’t dwell on your self-pity for long because there was a knock at your door. No one ever knocked on your door, people just tended to barge in.
“Come in?” Confusion dripped from your voice. When the door opened to a pair of twins with shameful smiles, you knew they were about to ask you for a favour.
“We… fucked up.” Three words you never wanted to hear coming out of either Luke or Kieran’s mouth.
“What have you done?”
“Long story short. Boss sent us to pick up a gem for Miss Hunter’s birthday. It’s really rare. The man who owns them is this older, heart of gold type old guy who refuses to sell to nefarious people because of his outdated principles. He wouldn’t give it to us, said something about us being part of Onychinus. We knew if boss didn’t get this gem today he’d have our heads displayed on mantels in his office, so we threatened the old man with a gun and then an entire arsenal of security appeared out of thin air and we were blacklisted from the property.” Kieran’s explanation left you astounded.
The twins had their fair share of asinine mistakes, but this one might have taken the cake.
“You threatened an old man with a gun…”
“Yes.” Kieran responded.
“Over a gem?” You asked in disbelief.
“A very rare gem!” Luke corrected.
“Huh. How am I supposed to help?” It was a genuine question, you didn’t really see a way out of this one.
“Can you go and convince the old man to sell the gem to you?” Kieran’s request made your eyes widen in protest.
“No way! I’ve had my fill of uncomfortable business meetings.” And wasn’t that the truth. If you had to see one more man in a business suit ask you ‘if you even knew what you were talking about’ you might throw your laptop into the first body of water you could find.
“Please, Y/N. Sylus will kill us. Do you want our deaths to hang over your conscience?”
Luke’s question was an innocent hyperbole, but at the mention of deaths hanging over your conscience, you were reminded of your mom. Your face dropped, your fingers slowly forgetting what they were supposed to type. Kieran, the more observant twin, elbowed Luke.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, I’m not going to burst into tears.” You weren’t sure that was true quite yet, but fake it till you make it, right?
“Will you help us? Please. We’ll owe you big time.” The line was clearly rehearsed since they said it in unison, or maybe it was some weird twin telepathy thing. Either way, it freaked you out so much you agreed.
“Fine, what’s the address?”
_____________
You knocked on the large wooden door of a beautiful home. It was classically designed, a perfect intersection between modernity and the timeless complexity of archaic house designs. It was rare to see homes like these in a society that prided itself on progress.
When you heard the sound of soft feet shuffling toward the door, you felt the guilt eat at you internally. You were tricking an old man into selling a gem to people he very reasonably did not want to sell to.
“Y/M/N?”
Did he— why did he call you by your mother’s name?
“That was my mother, I’m her daughter, Y/N.”
“Oh, thank god, I was beginning to think I’d finally lost it. Come in, come in.”
Your interest had been piqued, and you forgot all about the gem as you entered the old man’s home.
“I must say, I’m surprised you’re here. Did your mother send you?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “She passed away just over a month ago.”
“Oh god. I’m so sorry, dear. Are you alright?” The question was filled with so much warmth it made tears well up in your eyes. Your mother never had any friends, and you were estranged from your extended family. You were all alone in your grief, and hearing someone who knew your mom in some capacity ask you if you were alright felt bittersweet.
“Yeah. I’m doing okay. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know her?”
“You don’t know? I figured that was why you were here.”
Right. The reason you were here, the gem.
“No, I’m actually here entirely coincidentally, I came to acquire a gem.”
“Which gem were you after, dear?” He asked the question as he looked around his living room for something.
“The Painite one.”
He stopped pacing and turned to you with an accusatory stare. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to those two rowdy boys who came by earlier, right?”
“Well…” You couldn’t lie to him. He looked like the old man from ‘Up’, it was entirely unfair.
“I’m afraid I can’t sell to you. I’m concerned you’ve even gotten yourself wrapped up in such a terrible organisation.” He shook his head, his disappointment evident in his tone.
“Look, I know what you’ve heard, but most of the rumours you hear about Onychinus don’t have a modicum of truth to them.”
“Then why hasn’t your boss cleared them up?” A great question.
“In this business its good to have a reputation that instills fear in others. You’ve seen what people do for Protocores and black-market items. Onychinus serves as a… regulatory body of the underworld, the only people they harm are those that harm others.” The practiced speech came from years of listening to Sylus give it to yourself and others.
“I don’t know dear, I’ve heard some horrific things about their leader, Sylus.” You were probably responsible for a few of those rumours…
“The only horrific thing about him is his sharp tongue. Seriously, he has a way of finding your worst insecurity and then using it to drag you through the dirt.” Recognising the unhelpful tangent, you digressed.
“But when it comes to business, he’s fair and when someone hurts the people he cares about, he’s merciless. He has a good heart, it’s just encased under a very thick layer of stone.” When he didn’t look convinced, you continued.
“In fact, he wants this gem for a woman. She’s special to him and its her birthday in a few days. She’s a hunter, by the way, she saves lives. So, even if you don’t want to sell to Sylus because he’s probably half demon, you should sell it to her. You know, by proxy.” The argument was a stretch but you couldn’t help your rambling.
“You are the spitting image of your mother.”
The comment caught you off-guard.
“You think so?”
“I knew your mother when she was your age. She used to sing live at a bar I frequented with my friends. It was a simpler time, before wanderers attacked. I was head over heels in love with her, and I knew she felt the same way about me. But, she got wrapped up with the wrong guy, a real bad man, and it took finding out she was pregnant with you to break it off with him.” He recounted his past as he continued to search his drawers for something, when he came back to the couch in front of yours, he handed you a photo.
It was of your mother, except she was much younger. She was on a stage performing, a part of her life she never told you about. She looked happy and was glowing with the kind of ethereal beauty that never dwindled with time. He was right, you looked a lot like her.
“Can I keep this?” You looked up at the man, and he gave you a small nod.
“Of course. You know, I offered to help her when I found out, said I’d raise the baby as my own, but she told me I was destined for more than she could give me. Said she had to do this on her own. She was stubborn but she loved boundlessly, Y/N, just like you.”
You were confused, this man hadn’t known you for very long, how could he know such a thing? “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what that Sylus man has done to deserve your adoration, but I can tell you love him. And for you to come here on his behalf to convince me to sell him the rarest gem in the world for another woman? You truly do have your mother’s heart.”
His words sprouted doubt and introspection. Why were you trying so hard to get Sylus such a romantic gift when it was meant for someone else? Were you secretly a masochist?
“If it’s alright with you Y/N, I’d love to get to know you. Your mother was my first love, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to about her.”
You gave him the sincerest smile you could come up with. “I’d like that. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about her either.”
“As for the gem, I’ll sell it to you but only if you promise to love a man who will go to these lengths for you, not someone else.”
“I promise.” You’d promise to try, at least. You told the man, who you now knew was Dr Jeffery Hunt the geologist, that you needed to get back to work. You exchanged contact information with a promise to catch up later and trade stories about your mom.
You left the house with the rarest gem in the world in one hand, and an infinitely more valuable picture of your mother in the other.
___________
You walked toward your office where Luke and Kieran should have been to find the door slightly ajar. You stopped just outside the door when you heard Sylus’s voice from inside your office.
“You sent Y/N to get the gem? Was the task too difficult for the two of you?” You tried to sympathise with the twins, but it was kind of funny to see Sylus berate someone else for once.
“The owner said he wouldn’t sell to Onychinus—” Kieran’s attempt at an explanation was shot down instantly.
“So you pick some random person off the street and send them in instead. You don’t send the girl the gem is for to go retrieve her own present. You have completely ruined the surprise.”
Wait, what?
“No, it’s fine, we sent Y/N not Miss Hunter.”
“Miss Hun— why would you assume it’s for her?” The question hung in there for an uncomfortable moment, after all you assumed the same thing.
“Her birthday’s in a few days.” Luke timidly added.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s in the shared calendar.”
“Fuck.”
With your ear plastered shamelessly against the door, you smiled to yourself. He had a bad habit of putting personal events in the shared calendar.
“The gem was for Y/N. Thanks to you imbeciles I have to figure something else out.”
Why was the gem for you? Was it poisonous? You started down at the velvet box in your hand and wondered if the gem was secretly a teeny tiny bomb.
“Is it Y/N’s birthday soon too?” Kieran’s question offended you. Your birthday was in March and both he and Luke were at your celebratory birthday dinner last year.
“No, that’s in March. It’s to celebrate her 3rd year with Onychinus. Although now I’m wondering if your time here has come to an end.” It was kind of sadistic, but it was comforting to know that Sylus threatened other people’s job security over minor inconveniences too.
“No! Please, we promise we’ll make it up to you.”
You stopped listening to the conversation as you opened the box in your hand. The gem glistened under the artificial lights as questions fired off in your brain. He wanted to give this gem to you? How did he even remember the day you started at Onychinus? And he knew your birthday?
Before you could search for the answers, the sound of footsteps approaching the door made you panic. You tried fruitlessly to escape the long hallway but Sylus stormed out before you could.
“I um, got that gem for you.” You pretended you weren’t eavesdropping and held the gem out to him, but he pushed it back toward you.
“Thanks. I was going to have it turned into a necklace, but since the cat’s out of the bag, you can decide what to do with it.” He clearly knew you’d heard everything and gave the twins a pointed glare as they scurried out of your office.
“It’s really too much. Most employers get their employees a gift card or something.” You tried to hand it back again, but he was unrelenting.
“I’m not most employers, and you definitely aren’t most employees.” The loaded compliment made you bite back a smile.
“In that case, a necklace would be nice. I have a photo of my mom when she was my age, she wore a necklace with a similar looking gem. Do you think you could find someone who can copy the design? It would mean a lot. I’d pay for it, of course.” You kept the photo in your wallet now, it quickly became one of your favourites. When you passed the photo to him, he looked at it for far longer than necessary.
“Consider it done, and your money’s no good with me. Save it for something else.” He paused for a moment, took a photo of the necklace on his phone and returned the photograph. “I see where you get your beauty from.” The comment was so nonchalant and inconsistent with Sylus’s usual dialogue that you were left speechless. Your heart battered against your ribcage as if it were trying to escape and mount itself onto him instead. Traitorous organ.
You watched him turn around and walk toward his office. The sight of him walking away from you brought back memories of that day in the graveyard and what you’d said to Sylus before he left.
“You can judge me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that when you die, no one will mourn you.”
The guilt was eating away at your conscience, and you knew you had to let him know that you didn’t mean what you said. Especially not now.
“Sylus, wait.” He stopped just as his hand reached the doorknob of his office door and looked up at you expectantly.
You raked your mind for the right thing to say, and Sylus didn’t make a sound as you prolonged the silence.
“If you died, I’d mourn you.” And you meant it. You maintained eye contact despite the urge to look away from his intense gaze in an attempt to convey your sincerity.
He shook his head with a slight chuckle in response, and walked into his office wordlessly.
You figured he hadn’t given what you said a second thought. It was foolish to think you could ever hurt the impenetrable Sylus’s feelings. You weren’t even sure he had feelings.
But, unbeknownst to you, when Sylus closed the door behind him, he felt himself let out a breath that alleviated a pressure in his chest he didn’t know he’d been carrying. What you’d said to him in the graveyard weighed on him like an uncomfortable tumour.
Sylus knew you were right, but the idea of no one caring for him never bothered him before, not until you said it. It dawned on him that the only person who’s idea of him actually affected how he thought of himself was yours.
Late-November
“Finish up, we have a reservation at six.” At the sound of your boss’s voice, you looked up from your computer screen. Your eyes were watery from staring at the ledger for hours but you still couldn’t reconcile the $15.70 that was missing. It was driving you insane.
“Was there a meeting I forgot existed?” The calendar looked empty from where it stood on your second monitor. Well, it was empty now that Sylus deleted the shared calendar event for Miss Hunter’s birthday which should’ve been yesterday.
“No, it’s just us. I’m taking you to dinner. Now hurry up.” You couldn’t help the frown on your face. There was surely an ulterior motive.
“Taking me to dinner? Are you asking me out on a date?” You were teasing; hell would freeze over before Sylus would ask anyone out on a date. Though, maybe he already had, after all he was busy yesterday…
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re celebrating your third year with Onychinus. As an employer I believe rewarding long-term employees can strengthen their loyalty to the company.” He regurgitated the words like they were toxic.
“You stole that from the last issue of Forbes magazine. I would know since I was the one who gave you the article.” It was titled ‘Ten foolproof ways to make your employees like you’ and you thought it would be funny to leave it on Sylus’s desk.
“And I’m responding to your feedback like number 4 on that list suggested. Now, do you want to go to this dinner or should I ask someone else?”
You quickly scrambled out of your seat, you couldn’t miss out on a chance to see Sylus actively try to be a regular boss. Who could say no to dinner and a show?
“No, no, I’ll go.” You grabbed your bag off of the floor and followed Sylus out of the building. You asked him a series of questions about where you were going, when you’d be back, if you were getting paid for the time you were forced to spend with him, but he answered none of them.
Sylus was driving for all of 2 minutes before you began to draft an appreciation letter to the inventor of seatbelts in your head.
“You know, you may be harder to kill than a regular person, but I will die if you crash this car.” Pleading for your life in an expensive sports car was not how you expected to go.
“It’s a little early in the night for your theatrics, Y/N.” Sylus’s deadpan tone did nothing to soothe your concerns as he turned yet another sharp corner with aggressive speed.
“It’s also a little early in my life to die.” You unhelpfully added.
“Relax, will you? I’ve never crashed before.”
Well, there’s a first time for everything. You thought as you tightly gripped the handle of the door. You found yourself suddenly missing the middle-aged man who would grouchily drive you to and from work. At least he drove like he valued his life.
_______
When you arrived to the place in one piece you felt severely under dressed. Sylus was wearing his regular attire, a suit without the tie, and you were dressed in linen pants and a turtleneck. Sylus never enforced a business dress code, though in that moment you found yourself wishing he did.
The restaurant was multi-level and sat at the top of a mountain. The exterior screamed affluence and you were sure everyone who dined there was in a different tax-bracket. Sylus reserved a table on the rooftop which unfortunately meant you had to ascend four levels in your mediocre outfit that made you stick out like a sore thumb.
When you eventually reached your table, you quickly hid in your seat. While it was unrealistic to assume anyone would pay you any attention but your embarrassment was usually irrational. Nor, did it help that Sylus naturally made heads turn wherever he went. He was freakishly tall and unnervingly handsome; next to him anyone struggled to look attractive.
“You’re in a rush. Hungry?” Sylus asked across from you as you buried your face in the menu. You didn’t feel like explaining how being out with him made you feel insecure, so you forewent a response.
The waiter quickly returned with a bottle of wine. Of course Sylus’s favourite wine was known universally. Why wouldn’t it be? He practically ruled the N109 Zone.
“Thanks, she’ll have a mojito.” Before you could tell the waiter not to bring you your favourite cocktail, he was gone.
“I’m not drinking.” Your protest fell on deaf ears. “Drinking with your boss is like number 1 on the list of things you shouldn’t do if you value your job.”
“You don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me, Y/N. You’ve done that plenty of times sober.” Sylus smirked as he made the dry joke and you held back the urge to step on his foot under the table.
Never mind. You needed a drink pronto.
“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath.
“What was that?”
“Artichokes! I said the artichoke salad looks good.” You could tell Sylus wasn’t convinced, but he dropped the matter anyway.
“Order whatever you’d like.”
“There’s no prices on the menu.” You flipped it around every which way but not a single price appeared.
“Sweetheart, the people who can afford to dine here aren’t too concerned with prices. Don’t worry and order what you wish.”
Aw, how sweet. Sylus thought you enquired about the prices because you were concerned about overspending. As if. You knew that man’s financials inside and out, if anything, you wanted to order the most expensive things on the menu.
“Jeez, my bad Mr One-Percent.” Your joke was not well received.
“Can we have one night without your incessant sarcasm?” The plea sounded genuine, but it was denied.
“We could, but that’s no fun.”
“I find you painfully unfunny, Y/N.” You smiled to yourself at his blatant lie. Everyone found you funny.
Before you could think of a retort, Sylus pulled out a large velvet box and slid it toward you on the table.
“What’s this?”
“The necklace.”
You opened it up eagerly and the sight of it brought pure bliss to your heart. It was exactly like the one your mother wore, and it was even more beautiful in person.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Feeling slightly remorseful for your attitude prior to the gift-exchange, you gave him a sheepish smile.
Sylus watched you lift it up to put it on, but quickly interjected. “Allow me.” He stood up, walking toward your seat. Flushed, you clumsily turned around so your back was facing him. You felt goosebumps on your skin when his cold hands bunched your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers leaving a trail of wired nerves in their wake.
You took your hair from his hand to hold it up, the mere feeling of your fingers brushing his gave you heart palpitations. The act was way too intimate, and despite how it good it felt to have him so close, your brain knew it was safest to pray it would be over soon.
When Sylus was done he spun you around to face him and shamelessly observed his handiwork. “It looks good.” Your brain short-circuited the moment your eyes met his, so you sat in front of him in complete silence.
The moment was rudely interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.
“Sylus? Y/N? Fancy seeing you here!” You both turned to the source of the voice to see Miss Hunter in a beautiful baby blue gown. As if you didn’t feel bad enough about your choice in attire. You began to smile until you noticed that the arm linked with hers belonged to your mortal enemy. Dr Zayne.
You got up to greet them, despite your primal urge to push Zayne off the roof, but Sylus beat you to it. “Miss Hunter, always a pleasure.” You tried not to gag at the sight of Sylus being so gentlemanly. It became particularly hard when he kissed the top of her hand.
“I didn’t know you knew Dr Zayne.” The comment slipped out of Sylus’s tense smile with a twinge of what you thought was hostility. Was he jealous that she was with Dr Zayne? Were you jealous that he was jealous? Are you in a soap opera?
“Oh, he’s a childhood friend andmy doctor! I’m very lucky. How do you know him?” Before you could whisper to Sylus to make up some excuse, he was firing off information about your personal life to the last two people you wanted to discuss your personal life with.
“He was Y/N’s mother’s doctor.” Everyone went tense, everyone except for Miss Hunter, of course.
Your eyes followed her as she turned to you, praying she wouldn’t ask about your mother’s health. Instead, she praised your nemesis. “He’s brilliant, isn’t he?”
You wanted to scream in protest. You wanted to swing a chair into Dr Zayne’s head, and then use the broken scraps to beat him to a pulp. But you opted to force a painful smile instead.
“He’s definitely something.” You looked right at Zayne, hoping he’d understand the implications of your backhanded compliment.
“Well, we were just here to celebrate my birthday yesterday, but the hostess said it was all booked out and silly Zayne forgot to make a reservation. We just came up to the rooftop to get some pictures, but you guys should enjoy your dinner!” Miss Hunter’s polite dismissal was the perfect opportunity to end the painfully awkward interaction and move on with your night.
“Thanks.” You were about to return to your seat when Sylus decided to continue with his commitment to ruining your life.
“You guys should join us, the more the merrier, right Y/N?”
The question you had no idea how to answer only poked at the jar of pent up murderous rage you were trying to suppress. It wasn’t like you were subtle about your hatred for the Doctor, why the hell was Sylus inviting them to stay?
“Right.” You couldn’t have sounded less sincere if you tried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had to focus on making it out of this building without a homicide charge.
When Miss Hunter happily agreed, Sylus quickly waved down a waiter and made them transform your two-seater table into a four-seater. Unfortunately for you, the seating arrangements somehow ended up with you next to Zayne and Sylus next to Miss Hunter .
Zayne could feel the hostility radiating off of you in waves, but he was too scared to do anything about it.
“Happy birthday, by the way.” You offered Miss Hunter the nicety, since she was really the only innocent person at the table. Your unfounded hatred for her took the back-burner when Zayne was around.
“Thanks, Y/N. I love your necklace, where did you get it?” Yet another question you didn’t know how to answer. If this was how the entire night was going to be you might as well cut your losses and take your chances with jumping off the roof.
“It’s um, custom made.” You avoided Sylus’s glare.
“Well it’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but smile at her compliment. Her sunshine-y attitude could rival yours.
“Sylus knows the guy who made it, I’m sure he could get one for you too.” You glanced at him only to see him quirk an eyebrow at your response. Was he seriously mad? You were practically the world’s greatest wingwoman.
When Miss Hunter turned to look at him, he quickly shut her down. “He retired right after making that piece, actually. Something about getting arthritis.”
He was definitely lying. You weren’t sure why he was gatekeeping this jeweller and you never got the chance to ask.
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Hey Zayne, you’ve been awfully quiet. Say something!” Miss Hunter gave him a playful push on the shoulder as she teased him. The sight would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for satan’s incarnate sitting inches away from you.
“Yeah Zayne, how was work? Steal anymore hearts lately?” You asked the deceivingly innocuous question while breaking apart a piece of bread. The double-entendre was like a secret you both shared; though the idea of sharing anything with that waste of space made you inscrutably angry.
Sylus silently observed the interaction with curiosity. Your passive-aggressiveness was a trait he thought you only reserved for him. You were always nice, to everyone. Seeing you treat Zayne so coldly was like witnessing a beaver play the piano. It was unnatural.
“Work went as well as expected.” Zayne’s clipped reply left no room for further discussion. The conversation came to do a lull, and you took it as the opportunity to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You immediately beelined away from the table that currently situated your nightmare blunt rotation and toward the women’s bathroom that was positively Zayne-free.
The bathroom was just as extravagant as the rest of the restaurant but you didn’t get to admire it before you splashed water on your face in an attempt to cool down. There was no way you could last an entire dinner next to Zayne. Maybe you could say you were feeling sick. Probably a bad idea when he’s a doctor. Work emergency wasn’t plausible, your boss was at the table. What if you just ran away? You could live with the shame and embarrassment.
You looked up at the ceiling and silently cursed the heavens for your terrible luck. Seriously, you must’ve been a serial killer in your past life to deserve this fate. It was a never-ending series of unfortunate events, and you were desperate for a break.
When you eventually left the bathroom, Zayne was standing right outside the door. He startled you, but the moment the shock wore off your face morphed into a deadly glare.
“Look, I know you think I’m a terrible person but—”
“Monster is the term I’d use, but go on.” You rudely interrupted Zayne. He chose not to acknowledge your comment.
“I rarely get to spend time with MC and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t ruin her birthday dinner because of me.” It didn’t take long for you to realise that MC must’ve been Miss Hunter’s first name.
Zayne ruined everything he touched, he needed no help from you.
“I’m sorry, does the fact that I’m angry at you for letting my mother die put a damper in your dinner plans?”
“Yes it does, actually.” Zayne responded quickly. He either didn’t understand sarcasm or was an even bigger dick than you thought.
“Then might I suggest you take her someplace else. It’s your fault you couldn’t get a table here. Why should I have to suffer because your incompetence knows no bounds?” You couldn’t think of a time you’d insulted someone so much in such quick succession. Dr Zayne brought out the worst in you, but you could reflect on your actions later. Right now you were at war.
“We are perfectly capable of having an amicable dinner.”
You rolled your eyes at his condescending tone. “You might be, I’m not that mature.”
“Y/N. We’re both adults.” He pleaded.
“Bite me.”
Before Zayne could open his mouth again, Sylus interrupted.
“Everything all good here?” For once in your life, you were grateful for Sylus’s interruption.
“No.” You said.
“Yes.” Zayne also said, at the exact same time.
“Zayne you should head back to the table. Miss Hunter's waiting for you.” Zayne didn’t think twice before taking the out and you internally flipped off his retreating form.
Sylus grabbed you by the forearm, his grip tight as he dragged you to a secluded part of the rooftop and away from the bathrooms.
“What’s going on with you?” He asked the moment you stopped moving, his hand still gripping onto your arm like a vice.
“Can you let go? You’re hurting me.” He quickly released you, his eyes washing over with something you couldn’t recognise as you soothed the part he’d rubbed raw.
“Why are you acting so childish?” His question would've angered you had you not been angry already.
“I hate his guts.” The response did not help your case, but you weren’t very articulate when you were upset.
“What did he do to you?” Sylus’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke in a low tone that was laced with danger. You didn’t think too much of his strange reaction, Sylus acting strange was pretty much the only consistent thing in your life lately.
You gnawed on your lip, unsure of how to respond. Your grievance against the world-renowned doctor was one you’d always kept to yourself. After all, everyone had nothing but praise for the brilliant Dr Zayne.
“Y/N, if he touched you I’ll—” Your eyes quickly widened in shock at his interpretation.
“No! Nothing like that. It’s just, a few days before my mom died, a heart came in that was a match. But there was this other guy who was younger and needed it just as badly. The policy was that the hospital's medical board would vote on who got the heart and the entire board, Zayne included, unanimously agreed that the heart should go to the other guy.” They said it wasn't personal, that it had everything to do with survival rates, but there was no way to detach personhood from medicine.
You realised that when you said it out loud, your hate seemed unfounded. “I know it wasn’t entirely his fault, but he didn’t even try to give my mom a fighting chance. He didn't say anything to sway them, he just silently agreed. He was supposed to be her advocate.” The frustration began to boil over, and before you knew it there were tears welling up in your eyes.
“God, I spent every last dollar of my paycheque to make sure she got the greatest medical care money could buy. Everyone said he was the best, but when it really mattered, he did nothing for her. I was such an idiot.” There was an uncontrollable fountain of tears streaming down your face, and you were grateful for Sylus’s decision to drag you to somewhere secluded.
The familiar tendrils of an oncoming panic attack began to wash over you as you began to hyperventilate. No matter how much you wanted to blame Dr Zayne, or the universe, or your shitty luck, the only person you could really blame was yourself. You sent her to that hospital, you convinced her to hold on for a transplant, you spent her last months on this Earth slaving away in another city instead of by her side. There was no way to get that time back.
“Y/N, look at me. It’s not your fault.” Sylus’s voice was like a beacon of light that led you through the dark tunnel you were trapped in. He cradled your face in his hands, wiping away your tears as they continued to stream down your face. But when your tears showed no signs of slowing, he pulled you into his arms, his hands holding your tear-stricken face against his chest.
He ran his long fingers through your hair as he whispered everything you wanted to hear. "It’s not your fault. It’s okay to hate him. It will get easier."
You weren’t sure how long you spent with your face buried in his chest, but by the time you’d returned to reality, his white dress shirt was slightly transparent where your tears soaked through the material.
You laughed a little at the sight, and the corners of Sylus’s lips raised ever so slightly at the sound. When he saw you were okay, Sylus began to speak. “Don’t move. I’ll grab your bag and we’ll get out of here.”
Before he could leave you tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Hey, I’m sorry I ruined your dinner.” You truly were. Sylus did not deserve to be subjected to yet another one of your meltdowns, but he seemed to have a habit of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“No it's my fault, I ruined it by inviting them to join us. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Sylus then manoeuvred through the restaurant toward the nightmare table. When he returned with your bag in one hand and the other outstretched toward you, your heart skipped a beat. Or two. He played the role of the knight-in-shining-armour quite seamlessly, and he looked every bit the handsome prince charming. You tried to remind yourself why it was so dangerous to be attracted to a force like Sylus, but when he smiled at you like you were the only two people in the room, all caution was thrown to the wind.
_____________
In the spirit of making things up to you, you made Sylus take you to a restaurant of your choosing. It was a hole-in-the-wall dumpling place that charged so little one would question if they were serving real meat. But you never found better dumplings, so you took the risk anyway.
The dynamic was completely subverted as you sat on the table that was slightly sticky with cheap cleaning chemicals. Sylus was the one who looked out of place, his suit was unarguably the most expensive thing in the room and it brought joy to your miserable night to see him out of his comfort zone.
“How did you find this place?” The question was warranted, other than you two, the only other occupants in the restaurant were a few middle-schoolers.
“I used to come here a lot with my friends in high school.”
“Did they all die from food poisoning?” Sylus seemed proud of his quick-witted joke. You gave him a pointed glare to convey just how unfunny that joke was.
“Funny, but no. We just drifted apart after we graduated.” The clipped reply shut down any further inquiry. You thought back to the fond memories you had in that restaurant. Things were different when you didn’t yet know the cost of failure; before you knew what you’d be losing. And while everyone may have moved on from this small town in the N109 Zone, you never left.
“Do you even have any friends?” You choked on your drink at the question. He was genuinely asking and the worst part was, you really didn’t.
Your constant struggle to make ends meet and maintain a high GPA for your academic scholarships made it impossible to have a social life. It didn’t help that you went to a college you couldn’t afford. It was hard to find people to relate to when everyone had grown up with silver spoons. Then after you graduated you landed at Onychinus, and it wasn’t exactly a friendly environment.
“Of course I have friends.” Your lie was a feeble attempt to preserve the last of your dignity. Sylus had seen you at your absolute worst, but there was something extremely dehumanising about letting him know you were insanely lonely.
“Really, who?” His genuine surprise only made your insecurity worse.
“You don’t have to sound so shocked. Plus, you wouldn’t know them.”
“Try me.” Of course he wouldn’t drop it. When has Sylus ever let something go?
“Well, there’s Mr Demir, and Luke and Kieran, and my newly acquired friend Dr Hunt.” In a desperate attempt to keep up your lie, you pretty much just named all the people you knew.
“Y/N, that’s the man who sells you your sandwiches, my assistants, and a geologist who sold you a gem.”
“Has anyone ever told you that no one likes a know-it-all?”
“I think you should get out more. Maybe tone down the sarcasm and you might just make a friend or two.” Your jaw-dropped in faux shock at his unsolicited advice.
“You’re one to talk, your best friend is a mechanical crow.” You snuck a dumpling off of his plate while he was distracted.
“I don’t need friends, they’re unnecessary burdens.” He took a swig of his beer. You thought he’d burst into flames if he drank anything other than red wine, but he adapted to his surroundings with little effort.
You put a hand on your heart as if in pain and jokingly gave him a solemn look.“Then why would you wish such a cruel fate onto me?”
“Because I hate seeing you this miserable, Y/N.” The amusement from your banter died a quick death at his confession. You thought you kept it together most of the time, though bawling your eyes out in the N109 Zone’s hottest restaurant probably didn’t do that facade any good. But for the most part, you handled the death of your mother relatively well.
“I’m not miserable. Not all of the time at least. Like right now, I’m only mildly annoyed!” You tried to change the topic the only way you knew how, with humour, but Sylus wasn’t budging.
“You take care of everyone but yourself and all it’s done is isolate you. There needs to be a give and take, sweetheart. People don’t like feeling useless.” He spoke to you softly, as if he was scared the timbre of his voice would cause you to shatter into a million pieces.
There was a sinking feeling in your stomach that followed his oddly specific guidance. He seemed to know more about you than you thought he did, and you were torn between feeling seen and feeling judged.
“That’s sound advice. Guess you’ve been reading more magazines.” You were grasping at straws, willing to try anything to get the unwanted spotlight off of your inadequacies.
“You also need to learn how to accept help without downplaying your problems.”
“Okay, okay. You sound like my mother. Has her soul possessed you?” There you go Y/N. Play the dead mom card, that’ll work.
He chuckled at your joke. You knew he found you funny.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“Yeah, the manufacturers didn’t include an off-switch. No refunds, sorry.” You stuffed a dumpling in your mouth as the tension subsided.
“Oh, I’m not returning you, sweetheart. They’ll have to pry you from my cold dead hands.” While you knew he was probably referring to the value you brought his company as his accountant, you couldn’t stifle the butterflies that wreaked havoc in your stomach.
You didn’t move when Sylus’s car stopped outside your house.
“Thanks for tonight, I had fun. Sorry it didn’t go to plan.” You turned to him after you unbuckled your seatbelt and the tight confines of the car felt even smaller.
“It’s fine, I liked this version of events better anyway.” His low voice reverberated through the small distance between you, nestling in your heart that was beating unhealthily fast.
“Me too. Next time you take a girl to dinner you ought to let her know if she’s supposed to dress like she’s going to the met gala.” Your advice had a bitter undertone because part of you still wished you could be the only girl he’d take to dinner.
“I usually do, but this particular girl doesn’t need a fancy dress to be the most beautiful girl in the room.” The candid compliment made the butterflies do summersaults, and while their gymnastics routine continued, you found yourself at a loss for words.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” Sylus leaned over the centre console and opened the door for you, completing the chivalrous act of opening the door for you in his own unique fashion. He was so close, all it would take was one small move and his lips could’ve been on yours.
“Goodnight.” You barely got the word out through the sudden bout of breathlessness you were experiencing. And when you were finally encased in the familiar four walls of your home, you thought about every moment you shared with Sylus and how different he seemed from the man you knew before.
The weekend passed by in a blur. The necklace that looked like a carbon copy of your mom’s was nestled on your neck. A permanent reminder that made ‘Operation Sylus: No More’ infinitely harder to achieve.
Perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him to stop being a dick, because what you thought would be an easy feat was beginning to feel like climbing a mountain with a peak you couldn’t even see.
You were staring at the list on your notes app on your brand new phone in hopes of searing it into your memory.
Operation Sylus: No More
The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November.
Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.
Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly.
Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants.
Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!
Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.
You violated step 5 that Friday when you let him take you to dinner and you were reaping the consequences of your mistake. There was no way you could survive the free-fall if you couldn't get your heart to obey your mind. The disconnect between the two vital organs might be the thing that kills you.
When you heard something shatter in the hallway, you quickly put your phone down and went out to investigate.
The door opened to Mephisto standing on a side table where an empty vase used to sit. The vase was now on the floor in pieces in front of your feet.
“You did this on purpose.” You pointed an accusing finger at the bird, but all he did was tilt his head to the side as if he couldn’t understand you. You knew he could understand you perfectly well.
The cold war between you two started in your first week at Onychinus when he would swoop at your head spontaneously for no reason. Sylus told you he did it to everyone he didn’t trust and that he’d be over it in due time, but you were too vindictive to let it slide.
Several back-and-forth pranks later, the bird seemed to have remembered the tradition you managed to forget. “If this is your way of saying you miss me then you take an awful lot after your owner.” Your words faded as you made your way to the kitchen to find the broom. However, upon your return you saw that the floor was flawless and the door to your office was closed.
You rushed in with unparalleled speed to see your worst nightmare; Sylus leaning against your desk in his usual model-like fashion with your phone in his hand.
Panic coursed through you like never before as you remembered what had been left open on your phone when you set it down and the painful fact that you left it unlocked.
Prayers for a sinkhole to open up and consume you in that very moment went unanswered as Sylus looked up at you with a smirk on his face.
“Is my laugh really deadly?” He looked amused.
Come on sinkhole. Anytime now.
When you didn’t answer, Sylus moved toward you. When he was close enough to touch you, he leaned down to make sure your eyes were on his.
“Your deadline is fast approaching, Y/N. Care for a progress report?” The taunting question made heat rush to your face.
“It was stupid, I wrote it months ago.”
“Then why did you have it open?”
You couldn’t exactly tell him that his willingness to change his cold and cruel demeanour just to keep you as his accountant revived the feelings you thought were long dead. You definitely couldn’t tell him that the necklace that suddenly weighed down your chest made your heart skip a beat every time you touched it. And there was no way you were telling him that the dinner you shared was the happiest you’d felt in a long time.
“I was going to delete it when I heard Mephisto break something in the hallway.”
“Delete it? Guess you don’t need it anymore.”
“Nope.” You popped the P on the word for emphasis. “Can I have my phone back now?” He placed the device into your outstretched hand.
“So how do you feel about me now, sweetheart?”
You tried your best to appear unperturbed by his taunting. “Mad at your blatant violation of my privacy.”
“Forgive me. I saw my name on your phone when I went to check in on you and I was curious.”
“Mephisto told you I broke the vase, didn’t he?”
“Don’t deflect. Do you still have feelings for me?”
“No, they’re gone. Can we please drop this? It’s embarrassing.” You lied in favour of self-preservation and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see through your act.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Y/N. Many women confess their love for me every month.” You rolled your eyes at his ardent display of over-confidence and narcissism, though you knew he wasn’t exaggerating.
“Okay, brace yourself there bachelor. No one said anything about love.” It was true, you never said you loved him. Whether or not you did, well that was a secret you’d take to the grave.
“So then which feeling are we discussing?” The loaded question came out of his mouth so casually, like someone ordering a latte. A display of power that reminded you of just how little this mattered to him.
Your feet felt like they were grounded in their place by an invisible force and you were sure your cheeks were beet red. You knew your mouth was slightly agape in shock, but you couldn’t even close it. Meanwhile, Sylus was unfazed, treating your feelings like a game.
“Since when do you even care about how I feel?” The sudden outburst was accompanied by your hand running through your hair out of frustration.
Sylus’s jaw clenched and for a moment he said nothing. There was no hint of amusement left on his features.
“You think I don’t care about you?” He seemed irritated by the premise, but you couldn’t figure out why. You thought Sylus was proud of his clear disregard for other people’s emotions.
“You treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of your boot for years. What reason did you give me to think otherwise?”
“I don’t know, maybe the fact that I pay you more than my highest ranking footmen. Or that I had Mephisto tail you when you used to bike to and from work to make sure you got home safe. Hell, I invented the lunch budget when I hired you just to make sure you were eating— I even banned mushrooms from my kitchen in case you wanted to eat here. Not to mention the bullshit extra work I’d assign you just so you would stay longer.”
Choosing not to dwell on the implication of his silent acts of kindness, you interjected. “Hey, I took those tasks seriously!” The twins thought you were crazy when you asked if Sylus was making those assignments up. You knew you were right.
“Don’t interrupt me.” Your mouth clamped shut at his rather reasonable request. Sylus wasn’t a big talker, so when he monologued, it was important.
“Your kindness, your humour, it all caught me off guard. No one ever treated me like you did and I had no idea how to feel. The little doodles you sent back to me on the notes I left you delineating tasks? I kept every last one. When Mephisto complained to me about that time you put corn-starch in his water fountain and almost destroyed his wiring, all I could do was laugh. I treated you like I treated all my men because I didn’t want people to find out that you were my weakness.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, but the pressure wasn’t budging. There was so much you didn’t know about Sylus, so much you completely misunderstood. This revelation caused a series of chain reactions to go off inside your brain and the weight of what he was trying to say felt suffocating.
You dreamed of a time where Sylus would reciprocate your feelings, but the reality of it was more daunting than you realised.
“All my threats are empty with you, Y/N. You’re the only one who gets away with the attitude you give me. You tell me you crashed a car worth over half-a-million dollars and all I could think about was if you were okay. I even offered to buy your house for way more than it was worth just to get you back. Do you seriously think I don’t care?”
All sound came to a stifling halt.
“Wait, you were the ‘developer’?”
The inklings of betrayal wove their way through your skin as the pieces began to fall into place. The timing of the eviction notice, the fact that he’d shown up at your house the day you received it, the way he was so quick to agree to the ridiculous bonus.
He manipulated you like a puppet on a string and let you think you were in control the entire time.
“Don’t look at me like I’m some traitor.” His audacious demand made your blood boil.
“You are a traitor! How could you do that to me?” You yelled.
“You were going to leave me like I was nothing!” For the first time since you’d met him, Sylus raised his voice to match yours. Your entire body went cold at his vulnerability. He was afraid of being abandoned, and that was a fear you both shared.
“Not seeing you every day made my heart feel like it was being ripped out of my chest. I could barely focus, all I could think about was what you were doing, who you were with. So imagine my surprise when I come to find that while I’m being tortured every minute I’m away from you, you needed more time.
“I knew I was being selfish, I knew that your grief had nothing to do with me, but I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words. That day in the graveyard when you wouldn’t even look at me, I thought I’d lost you for good. It ate at me like a parasite. I had to get you back and I won’t apologise for not playing fair. There isn’t a rule I wouldn’t break for you, Y/N.”
It was hard to hate him for what he did when you understood where he was coming from. You were two sides of the same coin. While you overcompensated for the lack of love in your life by becoming the ultimate people-pleaser, he avoided it at every turn, saw it as a weakness. But at the core of every human being was an innate desire to be loved and an inherent fear of being abandoned.
People couldn’t leave your life if you never let them in. That was a philosophy you saw both your mother and Sylus live by. It was lonely and difficult, and if you had the power of hindsight you would’ve tried harder to convince your mother she was worthy of love. You couldn’t make that same mistake again.
You loved Sylus, that much was ingrained into the flesh of your heart. For all his rugged edges, he had a way of making things happen that was akin to magic. His determination, his grit, it was admirable.
His intelligence was infuriating, you couldn’t get anything past him. If he received the Greeks’ horse instead of the Trojans, you were sure he’d have seen right through their ruse.
His desire to make the N109 Zone a better place stemmed from a sense of altruism you could only hope to possess. And when Sylus did things for others, he never expected anything in return.
But for all his greatest traits he had some difficult ones too. He’d hurt you more times than you could count, and even if he’d changed drastically since your mother’s death, you couldn’t quite trust that he wouldn’t hurt you again.
“You already know how I feel about you.” You confessed. It was no secret you wore your heart on your sleeve, despite your mother’s constant reminders that the world was filled with terrible people who’d take advantage of your candour. You chose to see the good in others, it boded better than the grim lifestyle that came with perpetual pessimism.
“Then why are you fighting this?” His question came out pained, and it was one you could answer.
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Sylus. I loved you even though you insulted me, ignored me, reminded me I was replaceable every chance you got.
“I told myself it was just how you were, that it wasn’t personal. But when you walked out on me in the hospital when I needed you the most, I loved you a little less.”
Sylus felt an unfamiliar twinge in his chest, like someone took a needle to his heart. He left that hospital because he wasn’t sure you’d even want him there, and it pained him to see you so distraught over a problem he couldn’t fix. When MC came to him with an important mission in Skyhaven, he saw an out, and like the coward he was he took it. If he knew that you’d lose your mother while he was away, he never would have left your side.
“When you didn’t call until weeks later, when you showed up only to tell me I was being dramatic for grieving, I loved you even less. Every time you screwed me over you made it easier to live without you.”
It hurt to remember the pain you were in back then, the immense pressure of the burdens you carried. But if there was ever a chance of you and Sylus working out, he needed to know the truth.
“I’ve only ever loved two people, Sylus, and in one month it felt like I’d lost them both. I still love you, I’m afraid I couldn’t stop if I tried, but I don’t know if I can be more than your accountant right now.” You couldn’t survive another heartbreak, that much was for sure.
Even though Sylus looked like he was going to be sick, you continued.
“I thought I was okay with you treating me like everybody else, thought I was strong enough to take it. But when I saw you with Miss Hunter and the softness with which you spoke to her, it broke me. I saw that you were capable of being gentle. You just didn’t think I was a worthy recipient of your kindness.”
He was quick to correct you. “That’s not true, sweetheart. Not at all. She has something I need, something I can’t take with force. It’s why I’ve had to adopt unusual methods. If I’d known it was causing you so much pain I would’ve explained. Fuck, Y/N, you deserve so much more than just my kindness, more than I could ever give you. I can’t even think of a person on Earth who deserves you at all.”
When Sylus saw the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, he resisted the urge to wipe them away.
“I’ll give you anything you ask for, anything but letting you go. There’s nothing so broken it can’t be fixed, Y/N. You taught me that. Let me fix this.” He tested the waters by taking your hand in his and when you let him, he pulled you into his arms.
For a moment, the room was silent. You listened to his heartbeat through his chest and it might have been even faster than yours. It felt like deja vu, reminding you of that moment in the restaurant, or that time in his hallway after Zayne’s phone call. Sylus was there to comfort you more often than not, why were you so scared of letting him in?
“I want to believe you, I just don’t know that I can.” Your voice was small, timid. As if you were afraid something you’d say would shatter the sanctity of this moment and you’d find out it was all a dream.
“I won’t stop trying until you do, sweetheart. You’re it for me, there’s no one else.” He kissed the top of your head with a softness you didn’t know he possessed and the words were like bandages wrapping around the wounds inflicted by your own envy.
In the comfortable silence, Sylus made a vow. “I don’t have regrets — you know that quite well — but I regret the way I treated you. I’ll spend every lifetime repenting for my mistakes, Y/N, and I promise I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” He squeezed you tighter and the comfort his warmth brought you was a welcome change to the cold you lived in all the time.
Desperate to diffuse the overwhelming angst of the situation, you pulled away from his embrace and clapped your hands together. “Okay then, as of today we commence ‘Operation Sylus: The Redemption'.”
His loud laugh resounded through your office, and it was a sound you’d never get tired of hearing. He grabbed your chin. “Have you always been this corny?”
“I watch a lot of movies, okay? Now, shake on it.” You shook his hand off your face and held out your hand with an invitation that he instantly accepted. With his warm hand encasing yours, you whole-heartedly hoped this operation would be a success.
Late December
You assumed the dynamic between you and Sylus would drastically change following your impromptu heart-to-heart. But the changes came in small waves.
It started with the middle-aged man who silently drove you to and from work with a permanent scowl on his face being replaced by Sylus himself.
Then there was the sticky notes he’d usually place on documents explaining the task and deadline, now with an added addendum.
— That necklace was the best decision I’ve ever made.
— Your hair looks especially nice today.
— Did you switch perfumes? I like it.
— That new lipstick suits you. Your lips are all I can think about.
You saved all of them in a drawer at your desk.
He had someone bring you your lunch every day and spent your entire lunch break with you. Somedays you talked until your tongue felt like it was going to fall off, other days you just sat and ate together in silence. And every Friday afternoon, instead of taking you straight home, he’d take you to visit your mother’s grave with a new bouquet in his hands.
You were glad he was taking things slow. His small gestures made your heart flutter without overwhelming you, but it had been a month since your confrontation, and he didn’t even try to touch you.
While your inexperience with love, lust and romance never impacted any significant aspect of your life before, it was growing increasingly difficult to wait for Sylus to make the first move. He didn’t want to scare you, that much was understandable. But you were growing angsty waiting for him the tension between you two hit a boiling point.
The glorious plan came to you while you were shopping with Luke and Kieran for Onychinus’s annual Christmas gala. It was a networking event masked under the guise of a holiday celebration where the people hiding in the shadows of the underworld could spend one night communicating on the surface.
Every year, Sylus insisted he couldn’t outsource waiters for the event because of potential security leaks, so you, the twins and a couple other of his staff were forced to fill in as the help. Sylus told you that you wouldn’t have to participate this year, but you began to look forward to the event. It was like an unorthodox Christmas tradition.
Your eyes drifted to the costume section of the party store, and when they landed on a short red Santa’s helper dress, you felt a lightbulb turn on in your head. Maybe you had to give Sylus a little nudge.
“Hey, aren't you guys kind of bored of the slacks and the dress shirts he makes us wear?” You sowed the seed of doubt into your unwilling accomplices.
“Duh. I hate dressing like a butler.” Luke’s eyes continued to scan the aisle for decorations. The hall was professionally decorated, but you added your own little details every year. It made things less drab and it gave the twins an excuse to spend hours in the party supply store.
“What if we went with Christmas themed costumes this year?” The twins turned to look at you with confusion, but they quickly warmed up to the idea when you pointed at the wall of seasonal costumes.
“I’m Rudolph!” They made their declarations in unison before breaking out into an argument in the middle of the party store.
“Just flip a coin!” You desperately suggested, taking a coin out of your wallet and placing it on your thumb, ready to flip. People were beginning to stare.
“I’m heads!” They said in unison, again.
“Kieran you’re heads, Luke you’re tails.” You assigned them the parts of the coin alphabetically and watched it flip through the air. When it landed in your hands, it displayed tails. You silently hoped they would move on from this unnecessary battle and restore peace to your shopping trip again.
“Sorry Kieran, Luke’s Rudolph.” Kieran complained for the rest of the day about how annoying being an elf was, and how, since he was an inch taller than Luke, it only made sense for Luke to be the elf instead.
They argued like the siblings you never had, and for all the pain and suffering they caused you, there was no denying you loved having them around. Besides, working for Sylus left the three of you trauma-bonded for life. There wasn’t really an out from this unconventional friendship.
_________________
You failed to remember to clear the costume idea with Sylus before the gala. He was just so busy trying to organise the event, and you were similarly swamped with ensuring all the invoices were sent out on time to the right vendors. You barely saw each other in the days leading up to the big event.
The dress was shorter on you than you anticipated. Coming up just above mid-thigh, it was nothing like anything you owned in your closet. The little hat it came with was cute though and you pinned it to your hair. The make-up you wore was the same as your everyday makeup, barring the eyeliner you’d spent way too long trying to perfect and your lipstick.
Other than the dress, you really did look the same as you did most of the time. Would Sylus even notice?
Right on cue, a knock on your door snapped you out of your train of thought, and you took a deep breath before opening it.
As you expected, Sylus looked unfazed by your choice in attire as you moved out of the doorway to let him in.
“I see we’ve foregone the uniforms this year.” His comment was a welcome distraction from your insecurities.
“Whimsy is part of the Christmas spirit, you know.”
“It’s cute. Did you get that dress from the children’s section?”
The question came so out of left-field it left you were stunned. Once the shock settled in, you suddenly felt self-conscious.
“No… Why? Does it look childish?” You couldn’t help the vulnerability in your voice.
Sylus closed the distance between you in a few long strides, his hands were on you in an instant. His palm was holding onto your waist the other tracing alone the edge of your dress.
“Quite the opposite, I’m just wondering why they’d make a dress so short for adult women.”
“Adult women can dress however they want, Sylus.” You chided.
“I know, but I’ll have my hands full if I’m trying to host this event and take care of the hoards of men that will be chasing after my girl at the same time.” He whispered the words seductively into your ear, the hand on your thigh slipping ever-so-slightly under the dress.
You ignored the warm, fuzzy feeling that bloomed through you at the sound of Sylus calling you his girl.
“There won’t be ‘hoards of men’. This will be the third time I’m working your annual gala and I’ve only ever gotten hit on like four times.” You knew from the way his eyebrows furrowed that you shouldn’t have told him that.
“Four times? Men hit on you four times while I was in the room and you didn’t tell me?” He was clearly angry, his rage unwarranted since it happened right under his nose.
“I didn’t think you’d care. Most of them were like fifty, anyway!” That was true, and every time one of them placed a hand on your shoulder or your forearm, it made you grimace.
“If men approached you in long pants and a dress shirt with a plate of refreshments in your hand what do you think they’ll do when they see you in this get up?” He walked you back until you were standing against the wall.
He had a point. Maybe it was too suggestive.
“I can change—”
“No. You never have to do that with me, baby. Just stay where I can see you, alright?”
“Okay.” You felt a blush paint your cheeks. The tension was bubbling up between you. His hand was searing into your waist, his other one moving dangerously high on your thigh. You really thought this would be the moment he kissed you. But then the warmth of his hands was abruptly gone.
“Okay. You ready to go?” He held the door open for you. That was it? Frustrated at your lack of results, you silently walked out of your house.
__________________
“Did you see Sylus’s date?”
“Of course, she’s definitely the hottest girl here.”
“I bet she’s had work done.”
“If so, I need the name of her surgeon.”
You eavesdropped on the hushed whispers of a group of women who were gossiping in a corner near the kitchen. The second you walked through the doors of the extravagant event hall, you both went your separate ways and you hadn’t seen him since. So much for not letting you out of his sight.
All you heard about the entire night was his mysterious date and her envious beauty. He never told you he was bringing one, nor did he ever ask you to fill the spot. But before you could completely spiral, you reminded yourself of Sylus’s promise. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing working here?” Your train of thought was interrupted by the voice of a man. You turned around, expecting to see one of the many sleazy old men who frequented these events and saw you as an easy target, but all you saw was a young, attractive guy in a three-piece suit. Huh.
“Hors d’oeuvre?” You offered the plate to him in place of a response.
“No thanks. I’ve had my fill, though I must say, the other servers aren’t quite as easy on the eyes as you.” His eyes shamelessly scanned every inch of you, head-to-toe, and you felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze.
“Oh, um thanks.” The blush on your cheeks was an unwanted biological reaction, you weren’t used to attention from men within your age range. It wasn't like you thought you were ugly, you were just a bit of a hermit.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” You were about to answer his question when someone did it for you.
“Y/N.” The voice belonged to the man of the hour who seemed to have appeared out of thin air.
“Sylus, hello. Hors d’oeuvre?” Clearly you were running out of things to say if your default reaction was to offer everyone a snack, but it was hard to find the voice to speak when you saw the girl who had her arms wrapped around his.
Miss Hunter. You should’ve known. Your eyes passed over her beautiful dress and pinned up hair. She lived up to the rumours, she was definitely the prettiest girl in the room. Next to Sylus the pair reminded you of a renaissance painting. They made sense, and clearly not just aesthetically if he brought her as his date instead of you.
Sylus saw the way your eyes trailed off to MC standing next to him. He saw the self-doubt turn your eyes glassy, and all he wanted to do was whisk you away to a private room where he could show you just how badly he wanted you, and no one else.
But his enemies were in attendance tonight, it was part of the reason he didn’t want you there. Sylus’s only weakness used to be his mortality, and even that was debatable. But now his biggest weakness was tangible, and she wore an adorable Christmas themed dress that made every man in the room brim with desire. Miss Hunter may have been the focus of all the women in attendance, but all the men could talk about was the sexy server in the little red dress. It was driving him insane.
But MC was a hunter and if he endangered her, she could get out of it unscathed without his help. Their enemies were the same, which made them perfect allies, but it also made their loved ones easy targets. Sylus would never forgive himself if he let someone hurt you. So despite the excruciating pain that coursed through him at your hurt expression, he did nothing to quell your concerns.
But he couldn’t idly stand by and let this man make a pass at you either. It was clear Henry was not aware of Sylus’s newly established no-fraternising-with-the-staff policy.
“Henry, not distracting my staff, are you?” Sylus directed his attention to his business associate. Henry ran a security company which supplied a large portion of their weaponry from Onychinus. The contract they shared was a substantial source of revenue that Sylus couldn’t afford to compromise.
“I’m just wondering where you found such delectable staff.” Sylus felt his jaw clench at the way Henry undressed you with his eyes and your consequential discomfort. Fuck the contract, he was going to make that man pay. But he couldn’t inflict his revenge quite yet, so he played nice.
“Unfortunately my staff are exclusively mine. I’m sure you understand how difficult it is to find loyal help.” Well, at least he tried to play nice. The subtle jab at Henry’s recent whistleblower scandal was a low blow, but he wasn’t above kicking below the belt.
Annoyed and slightly confused by the exchange, you rolled your eyes at the testosterone-fuelled men bickering and cleared your throat.
“I think I’m needed in the kitchen. Nice meeting you, Henry.” You gave him the kindest smile you could muster and gave Sylus no smile at all. It was the least he deserved for blindsiding you with his date.
“I should check on the catering, excuse me.” Sylus followed you to the kitchen and the second he caught up to you, he pulled you into a nearby storage closet.
There was barely any room for the both of you in there, so you were pressed up against his body. You tried to create some distance between you two, but he just pulled you back in by your waist.
“What are you doing? I’m supposed to be working and you’re supposed to be socialising. We can’t do those things from here.” You berated him quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t really need anyone from the staff discovering you in this compromising position. You’d had enough embarrassment in one night for a lifetime.
“Miss Hunter is just here with me on business.” Sylus’s statement did little to comfort the tumultuous storm in your mind.
“I don’t care.” In a sense, it was true. It seemed your mind didn’t care whether Miss Hunter was there with him on business or not, it still hurt all the same.
“Don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re upset.” Sylus tried to caress your cheek but you pushed his hand away.
“Okay, fine. I’m upset. Now will you let me leave?” You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but to no avail. His hand squeezed your face as he forced you to face him.
“If you’re upset, talk to me about it. Don’t antagonise me by flirting with other men. It won’t end well for them.” The fire in his eyes swore retribution and you did not want to be Henry right now.
“I wasn’t flirting!” You tried to defend yourself but you knew he’d see straight through your ruse.
“That sweet smile of yours is reserved for me and me alone.” There was no way Sylus would’ve let that over-the-top smile slide and this was exactly how you expected him to react, but it only made you more upset.
“Right, but I just have to make do with sharing you with Miss Hunter.” The irony of the situation was not lost on Sylus, but he had a laundry-list of crimes, hypocrisy was the least of them.
“I’m all yours, baby. I promise it’s just business.” He sounded sincere, and you trusted him to tell you the truth. Sylus never lied unless it was out of omission, but when you asked him a direct question, he never failed to answer honestly.
“I can help you with business.” You tried to reason, your palm resting against his pounding heart.
“Not this kind, sweetheart. I’m just trying to protect you. I need you to trust me.” You trusted Sylus with your life, with your heart. Which was why you knew you wouldn’t like the answer to the question you asked next.
“Did you sleep with her?” The mere thought of it tasted like acid on your tongue. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware of Sylus’s past, but where the other women in his life came and left like the tide, Miss Hunter’s presence was persistent.
You needed to know just how far they’d gone, even if it might destroy you.
“Yes. It was one time when we first met in September. Before I realised how I felt for you.” The words pierced straight through you like bullets of radiation. Your palm slowly slipped off of his chest and you diverted your gaze to your heels. “Y/N, you know I only want you. It meant nothing to me.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that they’d slept together that hurt you so deeply. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, the way she got under his skin. Sylus may love you, but what if he wasn’t attracted to you?
The thought slipped out of you before you could mull it over. “How am I supposed to believe that when you were all over in seconds and you won’t even kiss me?!”
A hint of recognition flashed through Sylus’s eyes as he realised the catalyst behind your frustration. For some odd reason that he could never figure out, you were insecure. Even though your charm bordered on lethal and your beauty was unparalleled, you still felt inadequate. It perplexed him how someone could look so divine and not be aware of it.
“I haven’t kissed you because I wanted to make sure you were ready, sweetheart. I was worried I’d scare you away, because I’m sure if I got a taste of you I wouldn’t know how to stop.” He sounded strained when he spoke, as if he was recalling his frustration at having to hold back.
You watched him intently, his words dripped with a desire you both shared. With his body so close to yours, it was hard not to wish he’d just act on his primal instincts.
“You’re entirely unaware of your affect on me. You have no idea how precarious the string holding me back from insanity has become. When I saw you in that dress, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold back. But then you'd look up at me with those angelic eyes and I realise I can’t risk losing you.”
Before you could even think it through, your desire became overwhelming and your lips were on his in an instant.
It was nothing like you expected, nothing like the chaste, sweet kisses you saw in your movies. It was heated, messy, desperate. His lips ravaged yours like a man on death row devoured his last meal. You felt his desire with every movement and all the doubt you had dissipated instantly. His hands were all over you, one softly held on to your neck, while the other held on to your waist like you might disappear.
His lips moved to your cheek, your jaw and eventually the sensitive skin on your collarbone. When he bit a particularly sensitive part of your neck, you let out a whine. You hoped he hadn't given you a hickey. His face came up to yours as he looked at your lips which were red from the impact and the desire running rampant in your eyes. It might’ve been the most beautiful you’d ever looked.
“Well? I’m still here.” You whispered against his lips before giving him a chaste peck.
Sylus knew you weren’t just talking about this moment. You never left, even when he gave you a million reasons why you should. He didn’t know what he did to deserve such luck, but he knew he’d never give you a reason to walk away from him ever again.
“We should get out of here.” Somehow you knew he didn’t just mean the storage closet. He shifted to lead you out but you quickly stopped him.
“You can’t leave your own party! What about your date?” As much as the idea of MC hanging off his arm made your skin crawl, it wasn’t right to just leave her alone.
“She’ll be fine. The only woman I care about is right in front of me, and I want to do so much to her than kiss her in a storage closet.” There was an underlying promise in his tone, and you felt the slightest bit of fear that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.
“You’ve lasted this long, what’s one more night?” Your last ditch effort to escape the dangerous situation was unsuccessful.
“Sweetheart, I can't wait another second.” He gave you a soft, gentle kiss that conveyed his fraying restraint. Your fear felt inconsequential when he was with you, you knew you could trust him wholly with every part of you.
So, when he led you out of the storage closet and all the way to his bedroom, you never once felt scared. Or insecure. Or inadequate. Sylus worshipped you like you were his salvation and he never once let you doubt yourself again.
Later that night, as you laid in his bed underneath his covers, staring over at his peaceful sleeping expression, you realised he was your salvation too.
Christmas Day
“What’s the surprise?” You asked the same question for the umpteenth time.
“Just be patient, we’re almost there.” You let Sylus lead you through what you thought was a building while you obediently kept your eyes shut. Eventually your feet came to a halt, and you were bursting with anticipation.
“Alright, open your eyes.” When you opened them you were in the living room of a charming beach house. It was so bright it took your eyes a while to adjust, but when they did you noticed that it was decorated with splashes of your favourite shade of yellow. The large balcony doors opened to the sight of a familiar beach, and you felt a range of emotions wash over you all at once. Sadness, nostalgia, yearning.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” Sylus’s voice behind you snapped you back to reality.
“What is this place?” The awe in your voice could not be concealed.
“It’s yours. I know how much you hate being on the beach, but I also know it meant a lot to your mother. From this balcony it’ll be like you’re right there without actually being there.” He sounded almost nervous while presenting his gift to you, worried you might hate it. But there wasn’t a word that could describe the pure gratitude and love you felt for the man standing in front of you.
“You bought me a house on my mother’s favourite beach?” The disbelief in your voice was almost tangible.
“Yeah.”
“Sylus, all I got you was a pocket watch!” You thought that since you were both not very big on Christmas, you would exchange small gifts. Clearly small wasn’t a word Sylus kept in his vocabulary.
“You gave me so much more than that.” The suggestion in his voice did nothing to soothe your guilt.
“This is too much.”
“Y/N, you’re more familiar with my assets than I am, if this made a significant dent in my bank account I think you would’ve noticed when I bought it a month ago.”
“You’ve had this for a month?” The shock persisted, but he was right. His expenses ranged from a box of paperclips to the purchase of a two-hundred-million dollar industrial complex.
“Yes, I bought it the first time you asked me to take you to the beach after work.”
“But what if we didn’t work out?” A month ago that seemed like a palpable possibility, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without Sylus in it.
“I’d find a way to trick you into taking it anyway.”
You all but rolled your eyes at the memory of his less-than-graceful plan to acquire your house until you ended up working for him again.
“Right, of course. You’re quite good at that I hear.”
“I’m good at many things, I’ll remind you later.” He drawled against your ear, but before you could force him to act on his promise he spoke up again. “For now, there’s one more surprise.”
You let Sylus lead you out to the balcony with his hands on your shoulders, driving you forward. He stood behind you, his chest to your back. He pointed to a hill on the left of the house where a beautiful willow tree sat atop the beach on a cliff.
“I bought that plot of land too. I don’t want to overstep, but if you’d like, we could move your mother here. Have her final resting place be at the place she loved the most.” His voice kept you anchored as memories of your mother threatened to pull you away. It still filled your chest with overwhelming sadness when you thought of her, but the thought that she could spend forever in the place that brought her the most joy filled you with relief. You didn’t get to give your mother much, but at least Sylus helped you give her this.
You couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your face if you tried.
Sylus had come a long way from that day at the graveyard, an even longer way from the day you met him. The fact that he grew to care about your mother as much as you did made your heart swell with love for him that expanded every day. Something you didn’t even think was possible.
“She would love that.” Sylus wrapped his hands around your waist, placing an ever-so-gentle kiss on your temple. “I wish you could’ve met her when she was alive, you would’ve loved her.” They were both the strongest people you knew, and it pained you that they never got to meet.
“I’m sure I would have. After all, I am a huge fan of her work.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his cheesy joke. You were rubbing off on him, that was for sure. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face at the sound of your joyful laugh and you had to squeeze out of his grasp to make him stop.
While you wished you didn’t have to lose someone so important to you to gain another, things always had a weird way of working out. Your future was still murky, but what you did know for sure was that ’Operation Sylus: No More’ could officially be declared a massive failure. And even though the physical hole in your heart still existed, the proverbial one shrunk to half it’s size; and you had the silver-haired man with the stone-encased heart of gold to thank for that.
playfighting with katsuki,, cus i think he’d totally be big on playfights lmao
ur writing is very yummy btw aaaaa
play fighting with katsuki
katsuki hardly admits it to anyone, but he loves roughhousing, or ‘playfighting,’ as you call it. as he didn’t have siblings growing up, he didn’t have many people to play with, and izuku was always against violence, even if it was pretend and with no malice behind it.
and katsuki doesn’t even know he likes playfighting until he’s standing in his dorm, phone in hand as he stares at a video, and you’re standing across from him with a silly plan in mind.
you state, “put your phone down.”
he raises an eyebrow in confusion but does it anyway, and as soon as he does, you run and try to take him down by his legs, but he wraps his arms around your torso, and suddenly you’re upside down in the air. giggles leave your mouth, and he throws you onto the bed, immediately jumping on top of you with a mischievous grin.
his arms are still wrapped around your body, and he’s on top, and you’re on your side, almost curled up into a ball. he thinks he has you stationed in that position until you grab his pillow and whack his side repeatedly. eventually, he’s forced to get off, and you immediately throw the pillow on him, as he’s lying down.
you pounce, and your chest collides with the pillow. he feels your weight above the soft cushioning on top of him, and he lets out a loud laugh.
but again, once he’s caught you off guard, he smacks your ass hard, and you feel the sting immediately after. you let out a yelp, and with your surprise, he picks you up bridal style, but then throws you onto the bed.
you giggle, and your stomach begins to hurt from not being able to take a breath in. even as he climbs on top of you, you think he’ll strike again, but he has you caged in. his hands are on either side of your head, but then he leans down to give you a softer kiss, still panting once his lips leave yours.
and once katsuki’s calmed down, he’s peppering kisses over your face when you murmur, “my ass hurts.”
he scoffs, “your ass is fine,” and doesn’t hide the smile after he speaks.
sorry i didn’t get to this for so long, this is a great idea. thanks for requesting this, and i hope you continue to like my writing!!
Bakugo’s sprawled on the couch, hair still damp from his shower, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and a spoon halfway to his mouth. He eyes you suspiciously over his bowl of spicy noodles.
“Tch. The hell are you planning?”
“Nothing bad,” you say, sliding into the seat beside him with your phone already recording. “Just a little TikTok thing. You don’t have to do anything. Just… exist.”
He grunts. That’s as close to “fine” as you’ll get from him.
You point the camera at yourself, making sure he’s in frame behind you. “Okay,” you begin sweetly, “so I’m here with my current boyfriend…”
Bakugo pauses mid-bite.
His head slowly turns. “…Your what?”
You bite your lip, fighting a smile, still filming. “My current boyfriend.”
The look on his face and the meanest side eye says you have three seconds to explain before I level this apartment.
He sets the bowl down without breaking eye contact. “Current?”
“Mhm,” you say, leaning into the act. “You know, just until I find someone better.”
You don’t even get a full breath in before he’s on you — not aggressively, but fast, almost knocking the wind out of you. He grabs your phone and points the camera straight at himself.
“The fuck does that mean, current?” he growls, eyes sharp but his voice low. “There ain’t gonna be a next boyfriend. You think this is some temp job or somethin’? You think someone else can handle you like I can?”
You snort-laugh, but your face is heating up.
“Aww katsu’ You’re cute when you’re possessive.”
“I’m always possessive,” he snaps, tossing your phone gently onto the couch and crowding you until your back hits the cushions. “Say that ‘current’ shit again. Go on.”
You lift your chin, pretending to stay cocky. “My current boyfriend—”
He kisses you. Hard. One hand gripping your waist, the other braced by your head. When he pulls back, your brain is static and your lips are tingling.
“Say it again,” he says against your mouth, voice husky. “I dare you.”
You blink up at him, dazed. “I… might need to start calling you my forever boyfriend.”
A smug, dangerous smirk stretches across his face. “Damn right you do.”
katsuki turns to look at you, eyeing you down already. “fuck no,”
“pleaseeee!”
he folds his arms, serious. “told you i’m done with your dumb tiktok shit”
“i just wanna see how it’s gonna look! i’ll be super quick, swear.” before he can disagree, you’re already coming at him with a pink ribbon in your hand.
his face twitches. “make it quick then.”
you begin feeling excited as you watch him hold is arm out straight towards you, giving you full access to it.
katsukis arms are just ridiculous. his big hands, boulder shoulders, and beefy forearms always drove you crazy. it’s criminal, really.
you wrap the ribbon around his bicep as tightly as you can and finish it off with a cut little bow.
you sit back, pretty proud of your work—and honestly surprised that he would let you do this in the first place.
“there! cute right?” you grin.
he blinks. “thats it? am I supposed to flex or somethin’?”
you shrug, and he decides to test it on his own. he raises his arm up and flexes his bicep slowly, watching his skin tug against the ribbon.
SNAP!
the ribbon didn’t last another second. it literally popped—loud. flew through the air, and landed on the ground somewhere.
you stood there, a little shocked at what had just happened. he broke it with just his bicep?
fuck. that’s pretty hot actually.
“that was shit.” he shrugs, rolling his sleeve back down.
“katsuki! you destroyed my ribbon!”
a smirk forms on his face, looking too smug with himself. he looks down at his arm, as if he wasn’t expecting that either.
you knew he was strong, but my god.
his smirk grows wider. “use something stronger next time,”
katsuki turns to look at you, eyeing you down already. “fuck no,”
“pleaseeee!”
he folds his arms, serious. “told you i’m done with your dumb tiktok shit”
“i just wanna see how it’s gonna look! i’ll be super quick, swear.” before he can disagree, you’re already coming at him with a pink ribbon in your hand.
his face twitches. “make it quick then.”
you begin feeling excited as you watch him hold is arm out straight towards you, giving you full access to it.
katsukis arms are just ridiculous. his big hands, boulder shoulders, and beefy forearms always drove you crazy. it’s criminal, really.
you wrap the ribbon around his bicep as tightly as you can and finish it off with a cut little bow.
you sit back, pretty proud of your work—and honestly surprised that he would let you do this in the first place.
“there! cute right?” you grin.
he blinks. “thats it? am I supposed to flex or somethin’?”
you shrug, and he decides to test it on his own. he raises his arm up and flexes his bicep slowly, watching his skin tug against the ribbon.
SNAP!
the ribbon didn’t last another second. it literally popped—loud. flew through the air, and landed on the ground somewhere.
you stood there, a little shocked at what had just happened. he broke it with just his bicep?
fuck. that’s pretty hot actually.
“that was shit.” he shrugs, rolling his sleeve back down.
“katsuki! you destroyed my ribbon!”
a smirk forms on his face, looking too smug with himself. he looks down at his arm, as if he wasn’t expecting that either.
you knew he was strong, but my god.
his smirk grows wider. “use something stronger next time,”
yearning!bakugo who comes home straight to your arms after a mission. he doesn’t even bother to take off his gear - he just nuzzles his head against your chest, muscular arms reaching to cling to your shirt. he’s taller than you, so he has to lean down to fully allow for you to hold him.
yearning!bakugo who’s obsessed with your boobs. he finds comfort and safety from the plush skin of your chest, the squishy warmth under his palms almost making him whimper. bakugo loves to grasp and play with them while you still have a shirt on, the sight of the fabric stretching and bouncing makes him straight up rock hard in his pants. he loves to suckle and nibble on your perked nipples, hands holding your tits like he’s afraid they’ll disappear.
yearning!bakugo who’s such a baby. he complains and pouts, but the second you offer him affection and care, the previous whines are forgotten. bakugo doesn’t want to admit how damn relaxed he becomes when you caress his messy hair and massage his scalp - but the way he falls asleep with no exceptions proves otherwise.
yearning!bakugo who doesn’t speak about what he wants. he’s more comfortable just clinging to you and tugging you and himself under the blanket which is wrapped around you both.
yearning!bakugo who cummed in his own pants when he ate your pussy for the first time.
yearning!bakugo who absolutely loves when you ride him. first of all, your lovely tits bouncing on his face is his dream come true - he just can’t help but to suck and lick on them and bury his face in between them, no matter how embarrassing it is in his opinion. he loves to see you moaning on his cock and move your hips so skillfully, your pussy walls sucking him in almost aggressively. bakugo chews on his lower lip and blushes furiously as you cum on his cock, whimpers falling from his lips.
yearning!bakugo who loves to eat your pussy. no other words needed - he adores it. he’ll eat you before bed, in the morning, in the shower, in a public bathroom, no matter where. he loves your taste and smell in every occasion and often eats you out to the point where you’ve already cummed twice. when you’re whining and pleading for him to stop, he just pleads back like a damn puppy saying how much he needs to taste you more. bakugo loves you tugging on his hair and forcing his face deeper into your folds, he loves when you’re sitting on his face and suffocating him in between your thighs. he swears he doesn’t even need oxygen to breath. he fucking needs you to breath - your pussy, boobs, smell, taste, everything. your whole being is his life essence.
your boyfriend held off on letting you meet his parents for awhile now. for reasons you don’t actually know, you thought maybe they were really protective or perhaps even strict with who he dates but turns out it was anything but that.
“pssst— it’s okay you can tell me.” she whispered, slightly nudging you.
“I’m right here hag.” bakugou would deadpan at his mother, barely able to keep it together.
sitting on the couch in between the two practical clones when you first saw them together. you let out a nervous laugh before turning to your most likely and probably definitely future mother in law.
“no mrs. bakugou he didn’t kidnap me, pay me or hypnotize me to be his girlfriend.”
her eyes wavered as she looked at you skeptically before turning her head to the side.
“if you say so— well then come here dear you can see all his baby pictures. just a fair warning this means you have to marry him.”
“mitsuki.”
“MOM!”
“oh what— we all know it!!” she yelled, ready to defend her soon to be very factual statement in the future.
“don’t scare her off.” his dad mumbled in gentle admonition, patting her back to ease her from the initial outburst.
“please masaru if she was even the slightest bit afraid she would have already come running at the sight of katsuki.”
at that his father held a look agreeing that she wasn’t wrong. suddenly she turned to you once more holding your hands this time.
“he’s loud and makes ugly, borderline scary faces at times but he means well sweetheart.”
“oh I know mrs bakugou but—“
“call me mitsuki dear!”
“ah! yes mrs mitsuki err mitsuki— ehm I was saying on the contrary he’s very handsome and really gentle.”
from the raised brow and slight frown it was clear from her expression that she was unconvinced.
“mmmm— well I get his majestic appearance, after all he got most of his features from me.”
you could see masaru nod along.
“but gentle? hmmm, probably from you masaru.” she nodded, slapping his knee.
“though are you certain? I’ve never seen him be quiet ever in his life, it was always boom boom boom.”
glancing at your boyfriend he seemed to have reached his patience, looking like he was ready to go toe to toe like he always does before you interrupted.
“yes he’s very sweet and thoughtful. I love him for any and every part of him, especially his unwavering passion.”
a pregnant pause took place before—
“actually katsuki you need our permission this time if you do ask her now.”
“WHAT!!!”
“well she’s basically my daughter now!! how kind and patient she must be to put up with you.”
“I’m literally your son.”
smiling even wider with pride and relief she uttered words he guessed was nice to hear.
“and as your parents we’re glad to see you find someone as great as you.”
notes: the next chapter won’t be out for a bit. estimation? probably in the next five days, maybe less than that, actually. got something to satiate ur hunger tho! for others stumbling upon this post, none of these texts will make any sense without having read liar, liar first. just putting that out there :)
summary: just a range of texts between childhood bestfriend!megumi and yourself during the summer going into your junior year :)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・
notes: yeah, majority of these would just make no sense to ppl who haven’t read LL 😭 like we all know toji’s not fat LMAOO, but little y/n thought he was so there goes the running joke
HEHEHEH WHAT IF LIKE KATSUKI X READER WHERE READER JUST ABSOLUTELY ADORES HIM AND THINKS HES ADORABLE SO ONE NIGHT JUST HUGS HIM SUPER TIGHT AND LIKE SQUEALS LIKE AHAJSJSJJS YOUR SO CUTE KATS AND HES LIKE WJAT THE FUCK
ᢉ𐭩 gn!reader, katsuki’s so cute, and you can’t help but squeal and hug him when he’s nearby
katsuki is easily your favorite person. he’s the best boyfriend, and he only shows you more than just his hard exterior. he’s a gentleman at heart— knowing exactly how to treat a woman because of how his father treats his mother.
and it’s clear that you adore him. everyone who encounters you always finds themself listening to you ramble about your big, strong boyfriend.
so when he’s eating dinner in the common room, he’s adorable! his cheeks slightly puff out, his eyes droop tiredly— it’s almost eight at night. there’s a small pout on his face, and his movements are slower than usual. he’s exhausted from all of the extra training he’s done, having felt bored after school. his cheeks are slightly red, warm from the spicy and hot noodles he’s eating.
you stare at him with a lovesick smile, and when he notices, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “what?” he groans.
you let out a squeal and run over to him from around the counter, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing the soul out of him. he lets out a sound of surprise and confusion, then mumbles, “the hell-“
“you’re sooooo cute, katsuki!” you place your cheek against his, pushing your soft one against his as you both look like fish. “you’re just adorable!”
“‘m not fuckin’ cute, dumbass,” he retorts, trying to gently push your head away. you don’t let him, just squealing and jumping up and down while hugging him.
small kisses are placed all over his face, and he groans and huffs for every one of them, and you don’t miss the small smile on his face.
HEHEHE TY FOR THEBREQ!! sorry it took so long, ive been busy. hope u enjoy this, its my first post in a couple of days
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