lykos-ouni
24 posts
Latest Posts by lykos-ouni
🎀 nsfw X links 🎀
♡ Caleb nsfw links ! install X so u can view the links ! ♡
🍎 • he finally have you and he will show his love for you
🍎 • he's such a good boyfriend, making and feeding u your favorite meals! surely you'll let him have his fill aswell, eating you like a starved man
🍎 • "it won't fit Caleb!" just lay there and take him like a good girl and he will show u how deep you can take!
🍎 • everybody just keep getting on his nerves today! and what's better stress relief fucking his favorite girl~!
🍎 • netflix and chill is always the best!
🍎 • he loves kissing you! sweet forehead kiss, cheeky cheek kisses, love lip kisses and of course cute cunny kisses
🍎 • Caleb is possesive and will claim every part of you ♡ even your other little hole
🍎 • you're just so loud that Caleb has to gag and tied you! you don't want grandma to see you having sex with him right?
🍎 • ripping up your cute panties like it's a gift wrap
🍎 • you better grip the headboard tightly while Colonel Caleb is pounding you without mercy
🍎 • your so beautiful swollen with his child and nothing is sweeter than your breastmilk
🍎 • swear your back is about to snap with how in every position he wanna kiss you! but he will just massage it after!
SYLUS QIN TWT LINKS
INCLUDES— fingering, clit play, cunnilingus, making out, groping, penetration, squirting, creampie, size difference kink, masturbation, bath sex, body worship (?), grinding, breast/nipple play.
WARNINGS— 16 links, all of these videos are for afab readers/viewers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk ! nsfw below the cut
your tight pussy clinging to his cock cos he's just so big
sylus having you in a mating press after coming back from another long and tedious business trip
he hasn't shown much interest in the size difference between you two, but you definitely have
sylus always manages to get you to squirt during round two
he loves the taste of your sweet cunt after you've had a hard day and need some help destressing
grinning in the middle of toe curling dick because you know you're the only one who gets to have him like this, no matter how many women giggle over him in public
sylus knows how sensitive your nipples are and he always takes full advantage of that fact
the type of shit he sends you when the two of you have been apart for too long
you're always so cute cuddled up in his massive bed, he just couldn't help himself
sylus rubbing your clit because you begged to feel him before work
despite what people might think sylus truly is a gentle lover, always focusing on your pleasure first
taking his time with his girl because he knows it gets you worked up
you convinced him to take a holiday abroad with you, the plan was to sightsee and explore but you ended up spending most of the holiday touching each other
he doesn't typically ask for blowjobs but when you begged him all prettily he couldn't resist
ever since you expressed your want to start a family with him sylus made sure to fill you up every night
sigh...his birthday trailer...he definitely eats the puss good
© ffiolette
Masterlist
Just a warning, everything is probably out of order + my first masterlist so PLEASE be patient with me
also my asks are open and appreciated !!
Bug Like Angel
neglectful batfam x spider!reader + spiderverse
P1 P2 P3 P4 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10
Show☆Time
neglectful batfam x emu!reader + pjsk
P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6
the fridge drawings (FANART!!)
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
anons:
🦦, meow meow, 🍰, 🫴🧠, 🪽,🦋, 🍧, yeet
00. spiderwocky ── kid-buggy
ㅤㅤplatonic | spiderverse x spiderman!reader x batfamily | ms. list
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdisclaimers on masterlist!
index. prologue , chapter one , chapter two , chapter three ... to be continued. based on this
your head slams against the mech’s ceiling, and your vision blurs for a second. a troubled robotic voice keeps reading out statistics, leftwing engine down, visors breaking off, remaining web fluid at 17%, and enemy still engaged.
you have to wince, pushing your head against the whiplash, slamming a half-ripped off metal leg at the large metallic eyeball staring keenly in your direction. mysterio’s been trouble before but… you’ve gotten soft.
a thin wisp of gas permeates the suit’s vents, and sp//dr’s robotic droning takes an almost human, frantic quality. “air quality has been compromised,” it hisses, “(name), pulling out of battle is optimal.” you’ve got to ignore it, you think with strain, a thin string of web leaping out at the building behind mysterio, there are people in more danger than you.
pulling harshly on the string, you can hear the noisy clank of metal as the mech-suit’s arm bolts creak under the pressure, and propel yourself at the sphere. and you do it again, to the left, again, from the right, while sp//dr’s voice reads out the remaining fluid clerically.
"16%", slam it into the concrete building next to you, it makes a dent, "15%", swing it into a billboard, people are screaming, "14%", jump up into the sky on your- the suit’s- good leg, "13%" shoot out two strings to the ground besides mysterio-
"12%", slam him into the concrete, shattering the road under him. you’re running out of air. the sphere breaks a little, curling inwards like a cracked egg. you have to disarm mysterio- before he floods the streets with the brain toxin that-
that’s currently bypassed your filtration systems.
the suit takes a staggering step towards a boy inside the vessel, his head encompassed by a globe of white, a single eye etched and staring. you barely hear his “you’re taller in person”, more focused on another voice whispering to you.
‘make me nothing’, it says, it’s your father's voice. no, it’s sp//dr’s voice. a hand reaches up on its own, crushing a drone, ‘i’m a teenage weapon’. it’s your voice, your head, sp//dr. you can barely breathe, another hand sending a drone flying into the thin walls around you. "safe inside the colours", his face looks at you in pity, admiration.
it’s a familiar look.
you stiffen, your mind clearing to sp//dr’s warnings. ‘i don’t need your love, boy.’ the suit’s arm slams against his skull, and he falls to the ground, with a strangled; “my voice!”.
the brain toxin begins to leave your systems, flushed out by a steady, furious buzz in your ears, your vision clearing as you approach the man. his face is exposed, a bloody, spectacled and oat-haired figure. he croaks to you; “i hate my voice,” as though you’d care of it, “you don’t know me- i’m just a fan…”
his voice becomes shaky, and he’s struggling to blabber out his words. you’re tempted to web his mouth shut. “but i could have been anything to you…”
“did you ever get the mix-disc i made you?” he slurs, his cracked glasses breaking.
you don’t wake up with a jolt. there’s no chain of anxiety that hits you, no spider-sense going off. you’re well tucked under heavy covers when you open your eyes, rigid in your sleep. not in the suit, you haven’t been in it for a while. it’s sill broken, and you’re not… not at work. not right now.
it doesn’t feel natural waking up in the manor. you’ve been opening your eyes to the posters your roommate put up on your walls, insisting on brighter decor. grown used to waking to sounds of chatter, maybe the radio, or the school bell telling you were devastatingly late to class and would be reprimanded for it.
you’re not used to waking up to neat wallpaper in a dark, old room. in the house you’ve barely lived in, barely wanted to live in. wayne manor is a sad place, and you're suddenly glad they send you away for most of the year.
summer vacations are the most miserable time of the year, everyone being sent home or off on vacation with their parents until they come back for next term. all the time you're stuck going to a manor you don’t want to be in, in a city you’re close to hating, with people who’ve made it too obvious they don’t want you here. they never say it to your face. but you know well enough.
but- but this time it’s different. this break, you won’t go to trouble tim with a puzzle you’d hope would interest him, one he’d take from you with a nod, and never think about again. you won’t go watch jason sneak into the pantry from a distance, trying to muster up the courage to talk to him and inevitably fail each time, as he swiftly left again. you won’t even offer to ask alfred if you could help him tend to the garden, only for him to smile pitiably gently at you and ask you if you’d 'rather not spend your time having more fun elsewhere'.
this time, you have work. something to do. someone to be.
you take to sauntering awake to a little desk in the corner of the room at five? four? in the morning, and sliding the drawer open to pull out a thick and scrappy diary. you’ve been writing in this since they first sent you off, since you were nine.
"SP//DR BOT" graces the page you flip to, in bright paint-marker-blue. the picture of a poorly sketched, vaguely-humanoid mecha-suit follows, on which you scrawl with a drying pen. for the last seven months you've had someone to be. so you'd best get to it; kid-buggy.
₊˚⊹ a/n : first fic i've planned up to completion,, let's hope all goes well!! let me know if you want to be in the taglist <3
prologue tags @sirenetheblogger @kenyummy @selvyyr
GHOSTS OF THE PAST
(Batfam x neglected hero reader)
a bird longs for freedom, just like me.
WARNINGS: violence, swearing, writing errors (English is not my first language), torture, reader has blue eyes and black hair!, fem reader, spider man reader, everything is fictional!
CHAPTERS
0 → Prologue
I → ghosts
II –> Poison
III → Spider
IV → Mask [1] and [2]
V → Bats
VI → Thunder [1] and [2]
VII → Rain
[....]
OTHERS
memes
[1] and [2]
Scenarios
sweets~
Christmas special
[Name] design!
Fanfic in progress, new chapters will be added soon!
Love and Deepspace Non MC Reader Fics
(list inspired by: @erisnxxi )
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 & Incomplete tags; More fics to be added soon
symbols (will use soon):
✧ - smut
♡ - yandere/possessive/obsessive
☆ - angst
✴︎ - isekai/reincarnation/transmigration/reverse isekai
☁︎ - fluff
𖥔 - self aware au (technically counts as nonmc)
Caleb:
Rotten Apples by hcntrcss: (ao3) (tumblr)
Echoes in Space by feralaffection: (ao3)
Live, for Me by kat_the_cat: (ao3)
Psychosomatic by minamidwinter: (ao3)
The Colonel's Keeper by saintobio: (tumblr)
Weightless Paradise by luvl3ss: (ao3) (tumblr)
The Engineer's Gravity by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)
back to friends by hxlxnaaa: (tumblr) (ao3)
keeper by "anonymous": (ao3)
mine by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)
best friend's brother au by mandalhoerian7: (tumblr)
Caleb's Spitfire - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)
fake dating by militaryapple: (tumblr)
Caleb becomes a wet rat (and gets unpixelated?!) by 4-the-l0ve-0f-art : (tumblr) (ao3)
Sylus:
Rewriting Fate by feralaffection: (ao3)
when love arrives-- and when she leaves. by cainis: (ao3)
Inside an Otoge: Mister Dragon, Let Me Love You by writerclaire: (ao3) (tumblr)
A Second Life for Strays! by stupidboy: (ao3)
Error 404 by ittybittyfanblog: (tumblr)
Impartial Hearts by ladsonlads: (tumblr)
surprise encounter by kitimeq: (tumblr)
calm and serenity by blueivyy99: (tumblr)
breaking my heart, 'tis the season, i guess by cainis: (ao3)
the sin & the sinner by saintobio: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3)
heartbreak anniversary with sylus by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)
hurts so good by comatosebunny09: (tumblr)
merry christmas, mr. sylus by comatosebunny09: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3)
sensitive by comatosebunny09: (tumblr: 1, 2)
a curse between us by eelliotss: (tumblr: 1, 2)
Fourth Wall by always-just-red: (tumblr)
Onychinus' Finest by always-just-red: (tumblr)
Emptiness by antaresr: (ao3)
ikigai by lighting_and_shadow: (ao3)
maybe by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)
enough by captivating-flavors: (tumblr: 1, 2)
Sylus' Darling - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)
Zayne:
Nocturne of Twilight by chuloyi: (ao3) (tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4)
My Wedding Vow Is To Divorce You by kira-loves0905: (tumblr)
lost among the pages by lazylattedgleam: (tumblr)
just give me your forever by shaiyasstuff: (tumblr: 1, 2)
heartbreak anniversary with zayne by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)
Gymnopédie no. 1 by deltachye: (ao3)
giliw ko (my dear) bybarefootindecember (ao3: 1, 2) (tumblr: 1, 2)
date by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)
Rafayel:
jealousy in the game by melkar: (ao3)
Intimations of Immortality by thyrd_pardie: (ao3)
When you suddenly wake up in Linkon City by irandial: (ao3) (tumblr)
heartbreak anniversary with rafayel by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)
Fourth Wall by always-just-red: (tumblr)
Rafayel's Muse - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)
a blessed bond, broken by time by yuansie: (tumblr: 1, 2)
ocean memories by yuansie: (tumblr)
burning hearts by maddamoiselle: (tumblr)
Xavier:
Meet Me at the Edge of Time by oeggchi: (ao3)
three hours past midnight by savouringmidnights: (tumblr)
glass half full by shaiyasstuff: (tumblr)
we can't be friends by kitimeq: (ao3) (tumblr)
Multi
Insatiable by Aceecee: (ao3) (tumblr)
Fake by urlulugululueverythinggoessmoothulu: (a03)
Wildest dreams by tactfulao3: (ao3)
Cats & Deepspace by thxforthemmrs: (ao3)
on the sideline by rqyup: (tumblr)
they forget your anniversary by yeosatinyngz: (tumblr)
Hugs are Mandatory by whosashan: (tumblr)
Sneakyyy by whosashan: (tumblr)
Bitter by whosashan: (tumblr)
Borrowed Time by eelliotss: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4)
I am in love and deepshit by amethystheartsx: (tumblr: 1, 2)
tempatio by morningstarfirstsin: (tumblr) (ao3)
A Hymn to You by lapetitecafe: (ao3)
LoveandDeepspace Visual Links Pt. 9!
synopsis: VISUAL links including all current I&ds men!..finally including caleb!
tags: penetration, bodily fluids, cum-play, blowjobs, cunnalingus, doggystyle, riding, bondage, toys, vulgar, incredible explicit, straight up porn (MDNI)
a/n: make sure to login to twitter (x) prior! I apologize in advance if some videos are soon to be taken down from twitter, this is out of my control but I hope you see this post before that happens! THIS POST CONTAINS VISUAL SMUT!
Xavier
could barely make it back to the car ❥ desperate to be close to you ❥ on your side ❥ after a midday nap ❥ eating you on the counter
Rafayel
cumming on your tits ❥ in the bathtub ❥ jerking him off ❥ oil massage ❥ worshipping his bride
Zayne
relieving his own stress ❥ brat tamer zayne agenda ❥ he won’t stop you ❥ in the shower ❥ he’s having trouble keeping his hands off you this morning
Sylus
breaking in the new leather couch ❥ convinced you to try anal ❥ sitting on his face ❥ “first you want it rough…” ❥ “now you want it soft?”
Caleb
pounding you on the couch ❥ riding him ❥ playing with you before he steals this pair ❥ when he comes home from work ❥ fucking you through your panties
Calebmc, 18+ mdni. Fem!reader, Name tattoo on mc, desperate! Caleb, slight pussydrunk! Caleb, cunnilingus, unprotected sex.
The night is warm and the apartment is illuminated in warm lighting fron the fairy lights hung above the bed, the mattress creaking a bit under shared weight as Caleb settles himself home between your legs, hovering on you as he kisses you unhurried and a bit sloppy.
It was a long day of meetings and patrol flights and Caleb finally feels like he can breathe again as his tongue dances with yours in a fight of drool and slight teeth clashes. He still can't believe this is his life now, his hands on your thighs and smooth skin feeling like the best dream he ever had. His bulge his pressing on your panties, your underwears getting damp and sticky as he grinds on you both desperate and patient.
He's finally decided to give you what you're whimpering for under him, his hands grasping your calves to open you up to him when his unsuspecting eyes catch a black shadow on your ankle. He feels himself pausing and getting closer to inspect it, slightly registering your nervous squirms under him but his body is too busy getting absolutely frozen at the sight of small letters on your skin that make out his name in elegant letters.
The world feels frozen for a moment as you watch his reaction with wide eyes. "It's... I want to have you with me whenever I go... I just did it on impulse... do you like it?" You murmur a bit nervous and still slightly shaky from the passionate make out session.
Caleb doesn't take the time to respond, words evading him as he turns to look down at you again with wide eyes before the room is suddenly filled with the ripping sound of your panties being torn. You tense up in surprise and can only stare at his desperate expression with dry mouth as he opens your legs and pounces your wet folds.
"You.. can't do this to me, princess..." He whines breathless, sounding absolutely wrecked as he licks your clit and slurps your wetness messily, mind hazy and eyes resembling a lost puppy. "My little princess... you have my mark on you... forever" he mumbles against your skin as he barely registers you moans and squirms against his face, too focused on humping the mattress while devouring you.
"So pretty... pretty pussy... tastes so sweet" You hear him mumble incoherently and you barely have time to catch your breath before you watch him tug off his boxers clumsily and open your legs wide again, hooking your left knee on his waist while the right leg, the one with the tattoo, goes on his shoulder in full vision. You're left exposed completely as he rubs his tip on you're clenching hole and whine brokenly, interrupted by a yelp as he plunges into you and starts to fuck you ruthlessly.
"You're so mine... I wanna give you the world baby" he groans, hips making you bounce up the bed, headboard bumping on the wall as your moans fill the space. Caleb can only admire your pleasure filled face as he caresses your ankle and kisses the tattoo with reverence.
"Caleb...fuuck...mhnngg" You whimper under him, hands flying to the headboard above your head so you won't bump into it as you feel yourself starting to tremble. "AH... I'm... close... Caleb please" You moan and he grins lazily down at you, hips shifting to thrust hard into the perfect sweet spot. His eyes track every shift in your expression, every muscle twitching in your stomach and thighs, delighting himself in the pretty cries that echo from your throat as you come around his cock, drenching his shaft and sheets under you.
He can only groan and shift himself to press his length as deep as he can go, his seed filling your womb in warmth as his mouth clasps down in a bite on your ankle, grunts muffled by your skin as he comes shuddering inside you.
He can only slump down on your sweaty body, arms barely keeping himself from crushing you. "I love you, princess.... you gave me the best gift" he mumbles as he places soft, chaste kisses on your lips, your bodies languidly hugging each other as you both bask in the aftermath of shared pleasure.
Calm and Serenity
Series Masterlist
Sylus x Non!MC
summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
tokyo revengers masterlist !! pt. 2
pt. 1 !! pt. 3
tachibana hinata:
big sister w/ mikey <3
lil bro hcs
tachibana naoto:
big sister w/ mikey <3
lil bro hcs
apple of his eyes <3
kawata nahoya:
s/o who's scared of the rain <3
romantic s/o <3
princess s/o <3
cottagecore gf <3
burning the world for her <3
perfect middle
kawata souya:
s/o who loves classics <3
s/o who's scared of the rain <3
actor/musician s/o <3
she's my princess <3
cottagecore gf <3
shy, but loving <3
perfect middle
ran haitani:
little sister w sanzu <3
little sister w mikey <3
gen z little sister
volleyball player sister
little sister dating?!??
runaway cat sister
little sis gets sick
little sister w mitsuya <3
car racer lil sibling
drunk uncle hcs
nothing to fear <3
slaying left and right <3
give me your love! you already have it <3
rindou haitani:
little sister w sanzu <3
little sister w mikey <3
gen z little sister
volleyball player sister
little sister dating?!??
runaway cat sister
little sis gets sick
little sister w mitsuya <3
car racer lil sibling
drunk uncle hcs
more to love <3
manliest muse ever <3
slaying left and right <3
oh darling girl <3
wakasa imaushi:
little sister hc
a snow leopard's savior <3
runaway baby <3
hakkai shiba:
little sister hc
crushing on yuzuha
sunshine sister hcs
ballet dancer sister hcs
undercover romantic w/ ran <3
baby bro hcs
disney princess type thing
panicking according to protocol
nah, girl he's mine
darling, you're perfect <3
yuzuha shiba:
yuzuha's twin w kokonoi <3
little sister hc
crushing on yuzuha
sunshine sister hcs
ballet dancer sister hcs
undercover romantic w/ ran <3
baby bro hcs
panicking according to protocol
nah, girl he's mine
taiju shiba:
little sister hc
sunshine sister hcs
ballet dancer sister hcs
twin sister hcs
undercover romantic w/ ran <3
baby bro hcs
panicking according to protocol
kisaki tetta:
lil bro w/ naoto <3
hanma shuji:
little sister hc
little sister hc (one year age gap!)
sukeban s/o <3
artist s/o <3
lil brother w/ kisaki <3
sorry, busy trolling rn <3
hit the streets, hit the books
speedster hits the road <3
kakucho hitto:
adopted by shinichiro
izana's sister dating hcs <3
little sister hcs
darling girl cat <3
red is the memories <3
wakasa imaushi:
y/n v.s. bugs
i do it better <3
runaway baby <3
sanzu haruchiyo:
rivals to lovers?! <3
abused s/o <3
seeing him in 3D <3
bonten:
dad hcs
mikey's twin hcs
ུᩧ LADS TWITTER LINKS !
৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .
XAVIER. ꒱
lazy humping. ⋆ grinding yourself on him. ⋆ missionary w your legs closed. ⋆ freakydeaky. ⋆ thigh fucking. ⋆ kissing & eaing you out. ⋆ to your satisfaction. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ exhibitionism.
SYLUS. ꒱
taking it w no complaints. ⋆ handsy when handling you. ⋆ size kink. ⋆ using your throat to his liking. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ cute girl treatment. ⋆ chained & ruined. ⋆ had to add this in.
ZAYNE. ꒱
riding him in the bathtub. ⋆ tease me, baby. ⋆ clit rubs. ⋆ lingerie fucking. ⋆ late night heat. ⋆ in the shower. ⋆ undressing & stripping you down. ⋆ blowjob in cute bunny ears.
RAFAYEL. ꒱
stay still. ⋆ kitchen counter. ⋆ backshots & the plushies witnessing. ⋆ fucking you into the mattress. ⋆ fingering selection. ⋆ stretching your holes out for fun. ⋆ a wins a win.
Claiming Something That's Not Yours
NotMC_F!reader x Zayne
May be OOC. Reader is isekai'd into L&Ds, following her heart, she studies medicine to get closer to Zayne. Suggestive. MDNI. 18+ just in case.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
-------------------------------
Part 1
You glance towards the side where he sits, still in disbelief after finding yourself in an otoge for the past 10 years. You sigh and he glances up from his tablet at you.
Zayne. A love interest in Love and Deepspace. Who's live in the flesh in front of you right now. The two of you were sitting on a couch in your apartment.
"Having trouble with something?" Zayne asks you in his regular monotone.
You had worked up the courage 7 years into being isekai'd to talk to Zayne. The person you possessed looked like you from your world and your family was pretty much also an exact copy. So, with renewed determination, you had decided to pursue your dream of becoming a psychiatrist. All for the chance to meet Zayne. Stupid, you know. But to you, it was worth it. And now, you've been dating Zayne for 2 years.
You remembered when you first approached him. You were shy and nervous of course. But you hid it behind a request to study together since you both attended the same med school and happened to both be taking neurology as an elective. You half expected him to refuse, knowing he only focused on school and did not seem to welcome any romantic advances from any of the students. But surprisingly, he agreed. You assumed it was because he happened to be very good at all the subjects and you had mentioned you were struggling. The professor had even recommended you ask Zayne for help, which was in your favour, making your request more credible and less like an attempt to flirt.
You guys became friends after that. Chatting about things you found interesting in your respective fields and finding parallels. A year passed and you found yourself nonchalantly asking him out. And again, surprisingly, he'd agreed. You assumed it's because you guys had good rapport as friends and you guys were at an age where most people would've had a date already and parents were starting to nag you about getting married.
The two of you were not particularly intimate, your affections towards each other not straying from the odd kisses and hugs, cuddling on a movie night, and sometimes sleeping in the same bed. Your first kiss (on the lips) with Zayne had your heart palpitating non-stop you thought you might have a heart attack. But one look at Zayne's face had you knowing he wasn't affected at all. Of course, this had disappointed you, but you were on a one-way track that leads to a break up, so even if he did not feel attracted to you sexually or anything, you cherished all the memories you made with him. Because you love him.
You shake your head and smile, "No. The hospital has already been hiring some more psychiatrists, so I've been feeling a bit more free as of late."
Zayne nods, "I've heard."
You lie your head down on his lap as he continues to review his documents on this tablet. He is used to you doing this by now, only occasionally glancing down at you and giving you a small smile. You smile back in response, content to just lie there and admire him. Again, he did not seem flustered to have you staring at him, though you had gradually built up to this, so maybe he got used to it too.
"Zayne," you whispered.
"Hmm?" He absentmindedly hummed.
"Would you go on a date with me this Saturday?" You asked.
He looks at you now, raising an eyebrow at your formality. Normally, you would just say you'd like to go on a date, not ask with such a formal tone. "Okay, where would you like to go?"
"I don't know..." You pretend to think, "Let's have lunch. Maybe stop by somewhere for dessert before going to see a movie, grab dinner, and finally a walk along the beach?" You smile at him.
"Sounds like you already have the whole day planned," He chuckles. "Alright, let's do that."
"What do you feel like eating?" You ask.
He thinks for a moment, "I'm fine with whatever you want to eat." He gives you a small smile again and you feel a blush rise on your face.
"Come on, pick something." You can't help the smile that crawls onto your face.
"Then... How about bibimbap and japchae? You enjoyed eating that last time." He suggests.
You nod, "Alright. That's for lunch then because I want pasta for dinner."
"No objections." He agrees.
"Then it's decided. The dessert place near the pasta restaurant I want to try is the one that sells carrot cake by the way."
He wrinkles his nose. "Just don't order it."
You giggle at his reaction. You've always found his aversion to carrots funny. It wasn't your favourite vegetable, but it tasted good to you. A lot of soups you made tended to have carrots in them and Zayne would end up piling all his into your bowl. At least he would still drink the soups even though it had been 'contaminated by those dreadful roots' as he so likes to word it.
You pulled up the place on your phone and showed him the menu. "Everything besides the carrot cake should suit your tastes." You also scrolled through the places that sold bibimbap and japchae as well as the pasta restaurant you were looking to try for him to check out the menus.
He glances through the menus quickly and nods in approval, "Looks good."
"Then I'll make the reservation." You sit up and head to your home office to make the call. Mainly, a reservation would be needed for the pasta restaurant. It would be fine to just walk in for the other places.
After making the reservation, you return to the living room and Zayne was nowhere to be found. You glance at the clock, finally realizing how late it was. He wouldn't have left without letting you know so he's probably taking a shower and getting ready for bed. Sure enough, you hear the sound of the water as you walk past the bathroom. You head to your room to grab your own pajamas and wait for Zayne to come out so you can shower.
He comes out after 30 minutes in a bathrobe, his chiseled pecs peaking out of the open robe.
Your eyes widen when you see him step out in the bathrobe. "Are you sleeping over?" You can't stop your eyes from dropping down to look at his chest.
He subtly smirks at your reaction. "Yes, where did you put my pajamas?"
"I-I'll grab them for you." You stand up in a hurry and rush past him to the bedroom again but he pulls you to him. The force sends you flying into him and you end up bracing your hands on the very chest you were just admiring. Your hands tense in shock and you freeze. "Z-Zayne?" You stutter, looking up at him.
His eyes roamed your face, studying your reaction. His face was serious, searching for something. You tilt your head in confusion.
"Nevermind, I'll try to find them myself. Go ahead and take a shower." He lets you go and heads toward your room.
You frown but grab your clothes and head into the bathroom anyway. When you finish showering, you find him sitting in your room with the pajamas you bought him on.
He smiles at you and pats the spot beside him on your bed. You shake your head and climb in beside him. You look at him with a smile, "Goodnight." He's staring at you again. You smile falters due to your nervousness. "You're staring..."
His hand lightly caresses the side of your face and then his fingers pinch your chin, gently tilting your head up. Then his lips were on yours in a slow, sensual kiss. One that the two of you had never shared before. It was a bit clumsy, since both of you were not experienced sexually.
He pulls back, leaving you winded and desperately trying to get air back into your lungs. You were sure your eyes had darkened and once again, Zayne seemed to be studying how you react. You felt the twinge of annoyance from how unaffected he was, not even a sign he was out of breath except the slightly quicker rise and fall of his chest. He leaned in again for another kiss and this time, it was more confident, the feeling of his lips pressed on yours and the slight tonguing against your lips brought a moan out of you, giving him access to your mouth. Your arms had wrapped around his neck and he was pressing you against him. You weren't sure what had brought this sudden bout of kisses on, but you felt it filling up a part of the hole in your heart.
However, you knew you would not go further than this. You are both virgins, and to you, that was a sacred thing. As much as you had fought with yourself in your own world about this as many seemed to prefer experienced sexual partners, your view was that it was a precious first time to be shared with the one you love (even if they were not the end all be all). That's why you knew you would not take that moment from Zayne and MC, if they were to get together. Rationally, you knew there are 4 other love interests in the game. Who's to say MC will definitely end up with Zayne or share her first time with him? But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You already took his first kiss. His other firsts should be saved for the one he loves.
When he dropped his head to plant kisses on your neck, you pulled away. He pauses and his eyes search yours. You finally understood, he was searching for permission, for you to give in to that physical attraction that he could probably see you had for him. You shake your head and he understands that you don't wish to continue. He nods and pulls you in for a hug instead.
"I understand if you're not ready to take this further..." His deep voice comes out as a whisper. He cuddles you and turns both of you on your sides, making sure you're comfortable.
Turned away from him, you feel a familiar yet foreign prick in your eyes. Tears slowly swelled up, but you did not let them fall. You didn't deserve to cry. This wasn't even supposed to be your moment. As you hear his breathing even out behind you, you turn to face him. Gently your hand caresses his face.
"I'm sorry," You mouthed, scared to wake him up. Then you turn back onto your other side, your back once again facing him.
Saturday rolls around and you stare at your closet, trying to pick out the perfect outfit. Not that there could ever be a perfect outfit to break up with someone, you darkly chuckled. Yes, this date will be your final one with Zayne. You intended to break up with him once the night was over. It was approaching the date when he'll reunite with MC and you didn't want to be a thorn in his side when that happens. With your relationship with each other, perhaps you could still be friends. Your laugh is humourless as the thought passes your mind. Your feelings have probably grown too strong for you to continue being friends with Zayne. So, as a contingency, you had already applied for a transfer to Skyhaven. This way, you'll be far from Zayne and the MC. Unfortunately though, the transfer only takes effect in 3 months so you'll still have 3 months time to be witness to their love story. Though you already know what will happen.
You finally pick out a simple carnation pink dress that reaches your knees which you pair with a navy blue cardigan and sneakers.
Right on time, meaning 5 minutes before your scheduled meet up time, the doorbell rings. You smile and brush away the sad thoughts as you answer the door.
"Ready to go?" Zayne's eyes scan over your outfit.
You nod as you loop your arm through your off shoulder bag, "Let's go."
He steps aside to give you room to step out of your apartment. You turn back to lock the door before taking the hand he offers you and walk together towards the elevator. The two of you take his car to the restaurant you picked for lunch, enjoying each other's company along with good food. After lunch, you guys head to the dessert shop, picking out several desserts (skipping over the carrot cake) to enjoy before the movie.
You laugh and point to the corner of your mouth, "You've got some cream here."
Zayne picks up his napkin and wipes at his mouth, "Did I get it?"
You shake your head and hold out your hand. He passes his napkin to you and leans forward. You lightly dab at the corner of his mouth where the cream is.
"There, all gone." You hand him back his napkin to find him staring at you with a small smile. You flush under his stare.
"Thank you."
You avoid his gaze, "No problem."
Then it was time for the movie. The two of you scanned the options before opting for this romance movie that takes place in a hospital. You weren't a medical drama person, but romance in the hospital seemed quite rare. As you kind of expected, the movie ended on a bitter note, almost pulling tears out of you once again. Zayne took notice and gave your hand a squeeze. You gave him a reassuring smile in return.
After the movie, the two of you decided to take a stroll because the two of you weren't quite hungry yet and there was still time until the reservation.
"Zayne, what do you think you'll be doing 10 years from now?" You suddenly ask.
He furrows his brow in thought, indulging your rare quirky questions as always, "Well, still doing my job, maybe with a couple kids to take care of," He sways his arm, swinging yours in the process since he was holding your hand, "married, probably." Your breath hitches as he glances at you as he says that, his hand warm as it squeezes yours.
You just smile softly, "That sounds like you." You glance away off into the distance. "I think that's probably the same for me as well."
You continue walking in silence until it was time for your reservation. You heart was starting to feel heavy and you felt like you couldn't enjoy the food as much as you wanted to. The weight of what you're about to do stabbing at you. Because before you'd even realized it, Zayne was already committed to you. Perhaps he felt responsible, seeing how strong your feelings are for him, but you couldn't allow that. This was the man who fell in love with sweets because a little girl promised him a popsicle. The man who'd been entrusted with taking care of that girl. Of course, that didn't have to mean romantically, but as you thought of the game, of the way Zayne acted around MC, of the way he looks at MC... He didn't look at you like that. You knew you had to step aside for them.
After dinner, the two of you walk along the shore, feeling the refreshing sea breeze and taking in the view of the vast ocean at night. Once you reach a fairly deserted spot on the beach, you pause. Zayne stops with you and turns to face you as you turn to face him.
His eyes are searching yours again, as if he had found something in your gaze and needed to reconfirm it.
"Whatever you're about to do, don't do it." He says with conviction.
You feel the tears well up, "You... Nothing gets past you does it?"
He looks at you with furrowed brows. "Of course things do. I still haven't figured out why you're doing this. I don't understand at all."
You take a deep breath, "I just don't have feelings for you anymore. At some point, I just felt like we didn't have a spark." Your eyes are blurred with tears.
"You're lying," Zayne says softly, bringing a hand up to your cheek.
You shake your head, moving your head away from his touch, "I'm not. It's been hard for me to keep up this façade when I know we don't have romantic feelings towards each other."
Zayne shakes his head, "That's not true. I—"
You cut him off, "Don't." You smile at him through your tears, "Let's break up, Zayne."
"No, I refuse." Zayne grabs your hand. "You can't tell me you felt nothing. That there's no spark. I felt the way your lips moved against mine, the way your body reacted to my kiss that night. You can't deny that." He moves in for a kiss just like that night. You let him, but you remain unresponsive to him. He frowns, pressing you closer. You tremble from the strain of holding back. You push at his chest, and he lets you push him away. He stares at you again with narrowed eyes.
"What can I do to change your mind?" He finally sighs, keeping his gaze locked on yours.
"You can't. I've already made up my mind." You step back.
"Fine. Let's call it a break. For one month. Let's stop seeing each other for a month. If your decision is still the same after that, I'll let you go." Zayne's eyes had a strange glint in them. You'd never seen him look like that.
You nod, "Fine, deal."
His expression had returned to his usual stoicism. "I'll take you home." He walks ahead in front of you.
You slowly follow after him. It was an uncomfortable silence back home.
"Thank you for the ride." You mumbled as you stepped out. But he got out after you. "You don't have to walk me up."
His steps stagnate, "Right. Then I'll see you at work on Monday."
"Yes, have a good night." You bow and take off in a flurry, wanting to escape the suffocating air.
------------------------------------------------
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
✈ — weightless paradise
transmigrated non-mc!reader x caleb
series masterlist. | ao3
01 — "first" meet
02 — experiment
03 — regeneration
04 — helplessness
05 — countdown
06 — name
07 — dream
08 — fear
09 — distance
010 — playtime
011 — moving
012 — onward
013 — destroyer
014 — gravity
015 — stay
016 — walk
017 — home
018 — necklace
019 — departure
020 — life
021 — sightlines
022 — lecture
023 — vacation
024 — ???
025 — ???
026 — ???
027 — ???
028 — ???
029 — ???
030 — ???
Inertia; Masterlist
(The banner sucks ik ✨️ graphic design is my passion ✨️ /j)
In • er • tia
/noun/
¹ “a tendency to do nothing or to remain unchanged.”
² physics; “a property of matter by which it continues in its existing state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line, unless that state is changed by an external force.”
— Sir Issac Newton's three laws of motion describe the relationship between an object’s motion and the forces acting upon it. His first law is known as the Law of Inertia.
Pairing(s); LADS Caleb x non-mc reader
Themes; angst (like a butt load of it), abuse (for the first half, i mean this is about thee "child experimentation" corporation known as Ever), non-mc reader, mc has a name (Lia-hua), eventual smut in later drabbles, and I'll add other stuff as I go. Oh! I'll go into detail with some of the bad things, since I feel that it adds to the story (but for some i won't).
Warnings; 18+ for excessive swearing and mature themes
Notes; This will be a drabble series! I'll post it whenever, similarly to Divisa. The chapters will mostly be on the shorter end of the spectrum and let me know if you'd like to be added to an eventual taglist!
☆ One
☆ Two
☆ Three
☆ Four
☆ Five
☆ Six
☆ Seven
☆ Eight
Footnotes;
The original mc will be called Lia-hua, Chinese for lotus flower (aka rebirth). She will be called Unicorn for the first few drabbles and she will not be a white lotus! I love the mc, so her and Caleb will have a purely sibling relationship. The reader will be friends with them both.
I know Caleb is Donor 002 because the mc is Subject 001, but I just wanted the reader to be Donor 001 so that's it.
I named Caleb's team (the team experimenting on him) Hydra, the reader's is Chimera, and Lia's is (of course) Unicorn. Some of the information I'm using isn't canon, so take most of it with a grain of salt. Like how Caleb's Evol Level isn't mentioned (I headcanon he was level A and Ever experimented on him until he was S), how the facility looks and what experiments went on. I just assume the experiments were pretty...bad. Considering mc had to die for her rebirth to trigger.
Your Evol is metal manipulation. And that doesn't seem like much, however metals are found everywhere so it's actually relatively strong. There's metals in your blood, your skin, and also my main thought process behind this was that you could use your Evol to pull Caleb toward you since he has a metal arm 😊
Also this seems necessary to add for all the Caleb fuckers 👀 he will still be the panty sniffer we headcanon and love
chuuya twitter links / visuals <3
notices: fem bodied reader. make sure to log in to twitter ! part 2 here.
chuuya fucking loves making you squirt. maybe a little too much.
he's absolutely astonished each time you wear one of his shirts.
this is so chuu justttt. augh.
best "good morning" you could even give him.
he really just doesn't want you to get too handy again when he wants to do this all night long.
chuuya after you'd asked him why would he need a full body length mirror. that's precisely why.
just him n your tits communicating.
he bought the softest and most expensive mattress just for this.
let's all agree, chuuya's a certified ass lover.
i can't imagine anyone but chuuya like this. just so him.
soft chuu for life !
you're still working even on your phone and he just wants you to forget about work when he's there.
he's been pissed all day at work and this is what he does after coming home instead of punching a wall.
i feel like he would love to finger you just so much.
special treatment for your perfect thighs.
moral support n comfort in times when he gets a bit ahead of himself.
again, so chuuya core. 101% him.
dazai part / fyodor part.
Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part One
Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader
Parts -> Part One | Part Two
Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.
A/N -> Guys this shit is just sad icl I need to lay off the sad songs... anyways, reader is not MC but MC is mentioned I called her 'Miss Hunter' or 'MC' bc I couldn't come up with a name, sorry.
EDIT: Thanks for all the love <33333 I honestly didn’t expect so many people to want a part two, I promise it’s in the works and I’ll try to get it out ASAP.
Trigger Warnings -> Death mentioned, heart issues mentioned.
Word Count -> 7.3K
“I’m sorry, what?” The question slipped out of your lips without much of an attempt from your brain to restrain it. You regretted that instantly.
“Watch your tone, Y/N.” The scarily low timbre in Sylus’s voice threatened retribution if you didn’t.
“Sorry… It’s just that— are you sure? I feel like this is a decision that requires a little bit more contemplation. Like getting a dog!” You tried to backpedal, but from the look of Sylus’s narrowing eyes, he wasn’t happy with your response.
“Are you comparing her to a dog?” There was a threat thinly encased in Sylus’s question and under the thick layers of fear, you felt the slightest pang of jealousy that the he felt so strongly about defending her honour.
What a dramatic and far-fetched conclusion. You wanted to say, but instead you bit your tongue.
“N-No! Of course not. Not at all. I’m just wondering if wiring her such a significant sum from your equity account is a good idea when you met her—” You make a show of glancing at your shabby watch “— 13 hours ago is a sound decision.”
“So you’re questioning my judgement? Is that it?”
You couldn’t blame him for being difficult, you walked right into that one.
“No! Well… yes?” One would think that after two years of working for Sylus, you’d have the ability to stand your ground against him. But there was only so far someone could push a man like Sylus before he deemed you irredeemable. The consequence of which involved a hollow point in your skull.
“Wrong answer. Wire it. Now. I’ll deal with your insubordination later.” He quickly left the room that doubled as your ‘office’; you shared it with the twins who liked to use it as their reprieve from crime. You wouldn’t have minded had they chosen less rambunctious ways of cooling-down, like reading or watching a show. Instead they’d play-fight, actually fight, play video games on the loudest volume or — the worst option of all — karaoke.
The sarcastic yes sir died on your tongue as quickly as it crossed your mind. You pissed him off far more than usual today, and he was already way more tense since her arrival.
Miss Hunter. Sylus kept her first name under lock-and-key, said it was safer that way. You barely caught a glimpse of her as Sylus dragged her out of his office, which was across from yours. From the glimpse you did catch, she was beautiful. Fair skin, jet black hair, a fit body. Her outfit, which was the Hunter’s Association standard issue uniform, had never looked so good.
From what you knew from shameless eavesdropping, she was extremely important to Sylus. She was part of some critical master plan you weren’t privy to.
You hated her.
Albeit, completely unfounded, your hatred for her stemmed from an ugly feeling you could not shake. In the two years you worked as an accountant for Onychinus, Sylus touched you once. Correction, you touched him once accidentally when you had too much to drink with the twins after work. You were taking careful steps to the bar to pour yourself another glass of a gross vodka raspberry mixture when you tripped on the edge of one of Sylus’s extremely expensive rugs. Your feet pedalled forward in an attempt to keep you upright, and you clashed right into Sylus who was innocently scrolling through his phone on the wall next to the bar.
You could recall the fear you felt vividly. You almost felt the same wedge lodged in your throat. Sylus quickly removed you from him, steadying you with his cold palms on your shoulders (an action that made you blush like a schoolgirl) before verbally deeming you cut-off from all liquor from the night.
That was the full extent of all physical contact you’d had with Sylus in two whole years, meanwhile it took Miss Hunter less than 24-hours before he was holding her hand. God, you hated her.
“Oi, Y/N, we’re using the company card for lunch today.” Luke quickly yelled out to you from the hallway, too engrossed in your self-loathing and plain old regular loathing, you forgot to remind Luke that they only had $40 left on their weekly lunch budget.
Knowing the twins, they wouldn’t have cared anyway, creating yet another problem you had to fix.
Looking at the excel sheet that contained this month’s trial balance, you shivered at the thought of having to deal with Sylus’s wrath at yet another monthly increase in expenses. So, you shifted the remaining balance on your lunch budget, a generous $255, into the twin’s joint account. It was only Thursday morning, and they’d managed to max-out their $1000 budget.
You hated them too.
You looked through your drawer in hopes you had a leftover snack that could sadly double as your lunch and felt a wave of relief at the sight of a protein bar.
It wasn’t like Sylus didn’t pay you enough to afford your own lunch, in fact he was the most generous employer you’d ever had. But the only thing bigger than his bank account was corporate greed, and the blood-sucking heathens at Akso hospital were milking you dry.
Life in the N109 Zone wasn’t easy for most people, especially your mother who raised you all on her own after your father left. She worked 3 jobs to put you through university in Linkon, so the least you could do was use every last cent you made on ensuring she had the best medical treatment money could buy.
Your mother had a bad heart ever since she was born, it was a hereditary condition that would sometimes skip a generation only to show up in the next. She had an atrial septal defect, or in another words, a hole in her heart. You were born with one too, although yours was much smaller. She’d undergone several surgeries to repair the hole, but it reopened, and now the scar tissue surrounding the surgical site was obstructing her arteries. She was now on bypass patiently awaiting a heart transplant you couldn’t quite afford, but you’d make it happen. You were sure of it.
With half the protein bar in your mouth, you began to call Dr Zayne, the cardiovascular surgeon who was overseeing your mother’s care. You called him for updates on your mother and the transplant list every day, since a train ticket to Linkon was too big an expense to justify, you’d settle for Dr Zayne’s cold recollections of your mother’s heart function.
“Ah, Miss L/N, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call today.” The dead-pan sarcasm dripped from his tone.
“Your bedside manner needs serious work.” You bit back. You weren’t sure when or how your relationship with your mother’s doctor turned so hostile, but you figured the busy chief of surgery was annoyed by your constant calls.
“Need I remind you, Y/N, you’re not the patient.”
“There isn’t a waking second I’m not thinking about the patient, Dr Zayne.”
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air at your confession. You didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, in all honesty, you looked forward to the banter before the updates on your mom, it helped ease the nerves.
“Do you want to see her?”
“Of course, but I’m working a lot.”
“No, I mean right now.”
“Are you finally letting me borrow the hospital helicopter?”
“No, but I will let you borrow my phone so you can FaceTime her.”
His kind offer caught you off guard. “Really?!”
“Sure, you caught me in a rare moment where I don’t have someplace to be.”
“It must be Christmas.”
“Rarer than Christmas. Think solar eclipse.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. Now give me my mother.”
Zayne kept his promise, and you spoke to your mother for your entire lunch break, and then some. You would’ve continued talking to her until the sunset if not for Sylus’s interruption.
“I don’t pay you to FaceTime your friends, Y/N.”
“Sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later. I love you!” Your mother rasped out that she loved you too before you quickly hung up the phone.
“Sorry.” Your apology fell on deaf ears as Sylus took slow, deliberate steps toward your desk.
“Do you hate this job?” Sylus’s asked this deceivingly innocuous question while sliding a finger across the mahogany tabletop.
“Um… no?” You placed your hands in your lap as you answered to hide the slight tremor.
“You sound unsure.”
“I like this job very much.” You made the declaration with as much confidence as you could muster. Your mood was already depleted from seeing your mother’s sick face for the first time in months. She wasn’t looking any healthier, and Zayne told you she’d barely moved up the list.
107. There were 107 people who’s lives were more important than the woman who raised you. You were well aware that wasn’t the way they calculated the metric, but it didn’t make the number hurt any less.
Sylus let out an sigh that suggested whatever he’d say next was a much tamer version of what he truly wanted to say. “Then I’d suggest you start acting like it. Remember, sweetheart, everyone’s replaceable. Especially you.”
His comment stung like antiseptic on an open wound, though you were sure that was his intention.
“Right. Of course. I won’t let you down.”
“For your sake, I hope not. The twins told me they went to that seafood buffet for lunch, you haven’t let them go over the budget again, have you?”
You quickly pulled up the online banking account connected to the company card. You saw the $189.95 charge for the seafood buffet and swallowed the lump in your throat.
“Nope, it’s all dandy.” You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. He noticed.
“Good. You wire that money like I asked?” The venom in his tone alleviated, and you were glad at least one thing seemed to have worked out for you that day.
But alas, your joy was short-lived.
“Yes, an hour ago, but it’s still processing until you put in your access code.” You moved away from the computer to give him room to step around and put in the code like he usually did. However, his feet never moved from their position in front of your desk.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Just like that, his voice was all venom again.
You were beginning to grow agitated with his misplaced anger constantly being taken out on you. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d tear into you like a bear would a boxing bag and then act like everything was fine the next day. You never got an apology, you knew not to expect one.
But lately these fits of unbridled rage came about more often than not, and Sylus took a shovel to your mole hill of resolve every time.
“I always need your access code on transfers over $500,000. I’ve never told you before, I just assumed—”
“Are you stupid?” You didn’t bother answering the mean rhetorical question. “What about this transaction seemed usual to you? Did I not convey my urgency effectively earlier? Or are there rocks where your brain should be?” His voice never went up in volume, but you could tell he was angry. Livid even. Seething with fury at your supposed incompetence.
Your eyes welled up with tears at his outburst. Normally you could take whatever insults he’d throw at you with little outward reaction, but you were particularly sensitive from the sandwich-shaped hole in your stomach, and the maternal hole in your heart which ached every second, reminding you of the much bigger one your mother bore.
Before you could stop it, a tear rolled down your cheek, and the second you registered the sensation you quickly went to wipe it.
“Stop crying.” Sylus ordered.
“I’m not—crying.” Your voice betrayed you, a hitch in your throat interrupting the sentence. The tears began to stream down faster, so fast your hands couldn’t keep up.
You prepared yourself for a speech about how weak you were, how he wouldn’t tolerate such inane shows of infirmity. But all Sylus did was watch as you embarrassingly tried to pull yourself together.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before Sylus moved next to you, hunching down to input his code into the transaction. His eyes glanced at the second monitor, displaying the company card’s account, and he zeroed in at the twin’s charge, and your lack thereof.
“Did you have lunch?” Sylus’s voice was softer, you attributed that to the fact that he was inches away from you. The question was so out of left-field it actually caused your tears to cease.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t use the card.” Your eyes followed his to the bank statement and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, I had some extra cash on me I wanted to get rid of.”
“You’re supposed to use the card, Y/N. That’s what it’s for.”
“It’s fine, I’ll have an extra big lunch tomorrow. Granted you’re not firing me?” You were only half-joking, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips perk up in an almost-smile before he shut it straight down.
“I won’t fire you if you tell me what’s got you this upset? I’m not so proud as to assume it was me.” It was that moment you realised Sylus was capable of feeling empathy. He was aware of how hurtful he was being all those times he’d berate you over the smallest inconveniences for virtually no reason, and he simply didn’t care.
It was far worse to know that he did possess empathy, but chose not to extend it to you.
“It’s just that time of the month.” You lied, convincingly. You’d mull over your blatant betrayal to feminism later, but for now you needed a means of shutting this inquiry down and quickly. You didn’t want anyone knowing about your mom, you were sure the pity would destroy you. She wasn’t going to die, and you didn’t want people to treat you like she might.
Sylus waited for the transfer to clear before he left. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the door closed behind him.
“Are you sure we only have $105 on our lunch budget.” Luke’s question grated on your frayed nerves.
“$105 and five cents.” Your distinction didn’t do much help.
“Come on, can’t you do your weird accounty magic and make more appear? We want steak.” Kiernan’s plea wasn’t helping either. You’d exhausted every last option, anything else would definitely cause alarms when Sylus eventually reviewed the accounts.
“I already did all I could, I gave you an extra $255!” And a fat good that did you, now you were hungry and annoyed.
“Well, we both know there’s plenty more where that came from.”
There really wasn’t, but you didn’t tell them that.
“I’m sorry, $105 is all you’ve got.”
“Fine. But we’re very unhappy with you, Y/N. Very unhappy.” Luke chastised you, but you couldn’t even pretend to care.
“Better you than Sylus, now please leave.” The twins opened their mouths with a retort, but a domineering voice interrupted them.
“You heard her. Beat it and stop bothering my accountant.”
The twins scurried at the sound of Sylus’s voice, and you wondered how much of that conversation he overheard.
“So, where did that extra $255 come from, Y/N?”
Too much of the conversation. Way too much.
“My budget.” You cut your losses and told him the truth. Any other answer would have surely pissed him off.
“I give you $300 for the whole week. Your sandwich costs $15. Either you haven’t been eating, or you've been paying out of your own pocket against my orders. Which is it?”
Well, that was a lose-lose situation if there ever was one. You didn’t want to deal with the questions about why you were skipping meals, so you lied again. You always were an exceptional liar, your mother taught you that the less people knew about you, the less they had to hurt you with.
“I made too much food for dinner so I had leftovers. It’s no biggie.” You didn’t even look up from your screen as the lie left your lips.
“What leftovers?” He asked.
“Pasta.” You answered.
“What kind?”
“Alfredo.”
“With mushrooms?”
“Yeah.”
“You hate mushrooms.”
Shit. Why did he know that?
“I had a change of heart.”
“You’re lying.”
You bit your lip in worry, wondering how you were going to get yourself out of this one.
You stalled as much as you could, pretending to be engrossed in something on your screen, until the sound of Sylus’s phone ringing broke the tension.
You internally thanked every deity that could possibly be watching over you as he took the call, and prayed to all of them that it would be something urgent.
You heard the faint sounds of a feminine voice through his phone.
“Kitten, where are you?”
Wait, who’s kitten?
“Just calm down, tell me where you are.” Sylus didn’t even give you a second glance as he quickly stormed out of your office. Leaving you to mull over the intimate pet name, knowing exactly who it was intended for.
As Sylus left the room you reflected on the cacophony your feelings created in your mind. You weren’t sure when you developed such strong feelings for Sylus — or why. His personality was the antithesis of yours. Where he would free fall off of the proverbial cliff of his life without a second thought, every risk you took was meticulously calculated. Where he was rough and respected, you were sort of a pushover. Where his deadpan sense of humour tended to elicit more fear than laughter, you had an awkward habit of cracking jokes in situations they were not appropriate.
You were polar opposites, two parallel lines that were destined never to intertwine. You figured that was why everything hurt so much around him. He wasn’t right for you, but he would be right for someone else.
The envy you’d carried for so long began to subside for the first time in years. Sylus had an array of estranged lovers that he’d bring around his mansion every once in a while, and now Miss Hunter. But for the first time the reminder of that fact didn’t hurt as much as it usually did.
It was Mid-September and you warned yourself that if you couldn’t eliminate all the romantic feelings you had for Sylus by the end of Autumn, you’d cut your losses and quit.
Of course, you’d have to find another job that paid just as well, but you were willing to cross that bridge when it came to it. There was only so much turmoil your fragile heart could take, and if you were dead, your mother would be as good as dead too.
Happy with your iron-clad plan, you opened up your notes app and began to draft ‘Operation Sylus: No More’. You could change the name later.
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 looked back at your list, proud of the relatively easy steps to follow. This should be a cakewalk. Whoever said you couldn’t be the master of your own feelings clearly never met you.
“Boss needs you in his office. He says bring your laptop.” Kiernan’s voice broke your focus. You were almost finished with the end of year report for this financial year, a task Sylus forced you to complete annually. It was meaningless, considering Onychinus wasn’t necessarily a legitimate business listed on the stock exchange, but you took it seriously nonetheless.
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” You felt Kiernan’s eyes bore into you as you continued to make minor edits to the report. You’d sleep so much better once this 180 page document was out of your life.
“He needs you now, Y/N. We’re both toast if you make him wait.” You sighed and couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Sylus’s lack of empathy for your large workload.
You berated your past self for being so eager for this role, completing far too many tasks far too quickly, and setting the precedent that you were some sort of accounting machine. You really should learn to stick to the bare minimum.
You walked over to the door leading to his office, and gave it a soft rap with your knuckles. The door opened by itself, or rather with the help of Sylus’s evol, to the sight of him leaning back in his chair, with Miss Hunter sitting directly in front of him on his desk.
Step 3 of your guide felt less like a friendly reminder and more like a stab in the gut. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.
“We don’t have all day, sit down, Y/N.” Sylus’s command woke you from your trance, and you hoped your envy wasn’t as obvious as you thought it was.
This was the first time you’d seen Miss Hunter up close, and when your eyes travelled to meet hers, she gave you a warm smile. You felt like the shittiest person to exist for ever hating her.
Your eyes scanned the room for somewhere to sit. The chairs opposite his seemed like they would intrude on the intimate moment he was clearly having with Miss Hunter, so you settled on an armchair in the corner that had a coffee table in front of it.
Sylus sighed and didn’t even bother to ask you to move before he used his evol to whisk you up and deposit your body onto the chair at his table like a rag doll. You hated when he used his evol on you, it felt like the arms of a prickly cactus.
“In a few minutes, I’ll be getting a phone call from a possible investor. He’s extremely exclusive and known for running tests on his potential partners before agreeing to invest with them. My intel suggests he’s going to propose a joint project, but the numbers he’ll give me will be far off. I need to counter-propose numbers that would generate a high return and quickly, or he’ll hang up and I’ll never hear from him again. So, open up your laptop and prepare, because if you tank this for me, there will no longer be a place for you here. Understood?”
When Sylus did things like that, it made it easier to love him a little less. He could be a complete and utter dick sometimes, and while you’d learned to accept it as a human flaw, recently it seemed more like a permanent predisposition.
Perhaps Sylus was nice to you because you were entertaining, now that he had someone better to occupy his time, you were nothing more than a forgotten bygone.
“Yeah, I got it.” You opened up an excel sheet with a project analysis template. These were the types of questions you’d get in your first year accounting courses but you let Sylus think it was much harder than it actually was — just to make him sweat.
When the phone rang, Sylus’s muscles grew tense and Miss Hunter gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. You bit your lip to hide the sudden scowl on your face. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.
Your eyes bore into your excel sheet with an intensity that would’ve produced laser beams in an alternate reality. You focused entirely on the calculations, listening intently to the brassy voice of the investor on the phone.
It didn’t take you long to generate the minimum initial investment they’d need to generate some form of return, as well as the payback period. You wrote the numbers down on a notepad, and you let him do the rest.
When you heard the investor let out a humorous ‘I’m impressed’ you packed up your laptop and left the room without so much as a wave. You felt Sylus and Miss Hunter’s eyes follow you out of the room, but you didn’t bother looking back.
You felt the thin line between love and hate begin to grow blurry. Where Sylus was concerned, your feelings were as clear as the muddy water in a swamp. Maybe two and a half months was too much time. You needed these feelings gone expeditiously.
You decided to take your lunch early, and you left the extravagant mansion that doubled as HQ to find your bike. You couldn’t really afford a car, or a license, but your bright yellow bike could do everything a car could for a fraction of the price. You were in the process of strapping up your helmet when Luke walked up.
“What’s up with you lately?” His question was inevitable. You wondered how long it would take for someone to notice that you were fighting internal battles on every front. Your mother’s health, Sylus’s sudden chronic asshole syndrome flareup, your dwindling bank account.
“Nothing, I’ve just been tired.”
“Well, we’re having a few friends over tonight. Just a small group, if you’re not too tired, you should come.” Luke was the more sociable twin, and he was most likely extending this invitation to you out of pity, but you’d take anything over being trapped in your own mind.
“Will there be alcohol?” You quipped.
“Duh.” Luke’s response brought the first genuine smile to your face in weeks.
“I’ll be there.” After your agreement, you cycled away toward the corner shop for lunch.
It was a quaint bakery/deli run by a Turkish man who you knew on a first name basis. He was aged-like-fine-wine handsome. Features weathered tastefully by age, with a full head of hair that quelled your fears of your future children inheriting the early onset male pattern baldness gene.
But when you entered the store and saw Mr Demir, there were no butterflies. Your heart didn’t skip a beat. Your hands didn’t even quiver as you paid for the sandwich. In fact, they were so steady you figured you could give Dr Zayne a run for his money.
Speaking of Dr Zayne, his daily updates were growing scarcer in detail, and you were worried that something was wrong. He insisted he was just busy and since your mother had moved up to 93 on the transplant list, you let it slide.
“You know you’re allowed to try the other sandwiches, right?” Mr Demir’s handsome face contorted into a teasing smile, and if he didn’t own this shop with his beautiful wife, you might’ve asked him to marry you then and there.
“I like this one. Your family is very talented.” You smiled at him, but it seemed even he could tell that it wasn’t genuine.
“You’re getting skinnier you know, and you haven’t been coming as often. Is something wrong or are you cheating on me with a salad store?” His joke brought a giggle out of you.
You never thought that people noticed you in a way that was significant. You felt as if you were akin to a missing bird poster on a telephone pole in the middle of a busy street. People would glance at it, remember how common and undistinguishable birds are, and forget it ever existed.
Mr Demir’s concern warmed your heart, and you promised that if you ever won the lottery, you would give him half.
“I’ve just been cooking more, that’s all. Thank you Mr Demir, say hello to your wife for me!” You gave him a small wave as you exited the shop and the weight suffocating your chest was a little lighter.
Mr Demir’s family had boundless love to share, and while their shop was small, they were happy. Maybe things would work out for you and your mother after all.
The rest of the workday passed by like a fever dream. You finally managed to complete the annual report, a copy of it sitting in Sylus’s email, surely unopened. He left soon after that phone call with Miss Hunter, you didn’t bother to ask where.
The mansion was empty when you turned off the last monitor, and you thought you’d start pre-gaming early. Sylus always warned all of you that his bar was off-limits unless he stated otherwise, but the man had so much alcohol, you doubted he’d ever notice.
He only drank red wine and whiskey, and you hated wine, so you settled for an almost full bottle of whiskey. You took one sip and realised you couldn’t stand the taste either, but it was still better than the wine, so you chugged glass after glass like they were shots.
The heavy alcohol burned your throat on the way down and continued to burn in your stomach, but the feeling kept you warm so you didn’t really mind. You’d consumed half the bottle by the time the twins returned with two other men and one girl following in suit.
“Y/N! Good, you’re here. Help me set up the drinks on the table.” You nodded your head at Luke’s request, knowing your speech would likely be slurred.
You helped him line up the bottles of cheap tequila, vodka, fireball and a fear-inducing amount of absinthe. These cheap spirits were much more your speed.
“Alright, we’re starting with truth or dare. Pick your poison and sit around the coffee table.” Kiernan’s announcement had everyone scattering around the coffee table with cups in hand. You opted for the fireball, too scared to mix alcohol this early in the night.
You recognised everyone from another one of the twin’s impromptu parties. They only ever threw them when they were sure Sylus would be gone overnight. You didn’t let yourself dwell on where he was or who he was with.
The game was more entertaining than you expected, everyone had interesting questions, and when it came to dares, the twins always had something sadistic in mind.
It was your turn when they decided to up the stakes. You were already wasted, so you committed to answering whatever question they pummelled at you.
“Truth.”
“You’re so boring, you always pick truth.” Luke whined, his arm shaking yours in protest.
“That’s because I’m scared of your dares.”
Luke rolled his eyes but conceded.
“Fine. How many people have you slept with?”
All conversations came to a stifling halt as everyone’s eyes landed on you. Far too embarrassed to tell 5 people you barely knew that you were still a virgin, you changed your answer. There was nothing to be ashamed of, but you knew the twins would mercilessly make fun of you, and you didn't have the energy to explain that between the constant pressure to succeed for your mother, and her eventual illness, your love life had been placed on the back-burner.
“Dare.”
“You know the rules, if you switch options and refuse to do it, you have to finish everyone’s drinks.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hit me.” You glared at Luke with determination. You should’ve known that when everyone was this drunk, the dares could only get progressively more outrageous.
“I dare you to call Sylus and tell him you crashed his McLaren.” Luke looked proud of his dare, and the smile dropped from your face instantly.
Even Kiernan’s eyes flashed with concern before he broke out into an obnoxious laugh.
“Oh- Holy shit! That’s gold.” The words left Kieran’s mouth in-between his laughter. Everyone around the table looked at you eagerly.
You knew if you finished off everyone’s cups you’d definitely die, or worse, throw up.
“Fine.” Too drunk to realise the implications of what you were doing, you dialled Sylus. There was also the chance he just didn’t pick up, but four and a half rings later his annoyed voice resounded through the speaker of your phone.
“What is it?” From the sound of Sylus’s tone, you’d interrupted something important. You bit down the bitter feelings that threatened to spill out, and stuck to the objective.
“I have something to tell you, but you have to promise you won’t get mad.” There was no universe in which Sylus couldn’t tell you were drunk.
In all honesty, your phone call was a welcome reprieve from his mind-numbingly boring conversation with Linkon’s politicians. He’d offered to attend this event with MC with little thought as to what it would pertain. His eyes raked over her baby pink dress, and since he couldn’t get her out of it just yet, he entertained your drunk rambling.
“I don’t have to do anything.” Sylus expected you to apologise, but all he heard was a sound foreign to him. Were you laughing? Sylus heard indecipherable voices in the background, and he found himself wondering who was making you laugh.
“True. Okay well, you know that dark grey sports car you love soooooooooooo much?” Nice going, Y/N, remind him just how much he loves this car. You thought. The phone was on speaker, per the requests of the fellow attendees.
Everyone bit back laughs at the situation which was extremely unfunny to anyone with a blood alcohol level under 0.05.
“What did you do?” Sylus’s question had a deadly underpinning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“I crashed it!” At your exclamation, the room exploded in laughter, and you muted the microphone quickly before Sylus could hear it.
“You crashed it?”
You quickly unmuted to add. “Yup! Absolutely totalled.”
“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming.”
The laughter immediately died down. That was not how he was supposed to react, not at all.
Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to shut it down and you quickly began to backtrack.
“No! No you don’t have to come home. I’m fine. It was just a prank.”
“Oh, so you’re at my place?” ShitShitShitShitShit.
“Yes… The twins and I had too much to drink and we thought it would be funny to prank you. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have interrupted your night.”
You braced yourself for the angry lecture on how Sylus’s time was more valuable the rarest ruby, but it never came.
“Just you and the twins, right?”
Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to agree.
“Yes.”
“You should probably call an exorcist.” Were you drunk or did he actually just tell you to call an exorcist?
“Huh?” Everyone in the room looked just as perplexed.
“You know, since those three other people in my living room must be apparitions.”
“You didn’t rig the camera?” Kiernan’s shrill scream was definitely registered by the phone’s mic.
“Fuck! I forgot.” Luke exclaimed in response as they scrambled to pack everything up.
“Um…” With everyone frantically running around the room, you were left to deal with Sylus’s wrath alone.
“How come you never laugh when you’re with me?” And with that question you were convinced the alcohol had induced auditory hallucinations.
“You’re not very funny.” You decided to play along, after all, imaginary Sylus was much more fun than the real one.
“Hmm, I thought I was.”
“Nope. All your jokes end in someone dying, and usually that someone is me.”
“Oh, sweetheart, those aren’t jokes.” That was something real Sylus would say. Damn, these auditory hallucinations were realistic.
“I know, I really thought you were going to kill me last week.” You let out an involuntary snort at the hilarious image of your head on a pike.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I screwed up that wire transfer to Miss Hunter. You were soooo mad. You must reaaaalllyyyy like her.”
“I guess I do.” The line went quiet on both ends after that.
This auditory hallucination was no fun following his confession, so you hung up. Sylus called a few times after, but you never noticed. The room began spinning and your eyes began watering, so you curled up on the floor until your head stopped pounding, but by then you were fast asleep.
Sylus returned to his mansion the next morning to find your office empty. It was still an hour before you were due to start, but you were always early.
With an internal promise to check again in an hour, he walked toward the living room. It didn’t take long before he noticed a mop of light brown hair on his rug.
He walked toward your sleeping form with indignation, only to find every ounce of anger sucked out of him when he knelt down to find your sleeping face.
He hadn’t been that close to you in what felt like forever. Was your face always that pale? His eyes caressed your under eye bags, and your hollow cheeks. He could’ve sworn they were fuller when he hired you. What happened to you?
Before Sylus could give in to the urge to wake you up and ask, your phone made a sound from the coffee table. He picked it up and saw you were getting a call from Zayne.
Who the fuck was Zayne?
He answered the phone before he could think it through.
“Oh, Y/N, good. I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
“You should’ve taken the hint.” Sylus couldn’t help the bite in his tone. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry at this Zayne, but his emotions were beginning to confuse him more often than he cared to admit.
“Who’s this?”
Sylus could’ve said that he was your boss. He should’ve said that he was your boss. But what he said instead…
“Y/N’s mine.” His employee, but that distinction didn’t seem necessary in the moment.
“Well, could you tell her to call me back as soon as possible. I have urgent news about her mother.”
The comment about her mother perplexed Sylus even more.
“Who are you?”
“I’m her mother’s heart surgeon. I have to go, have her call me soon.” Sylus felt stupid for the unnecessary show of hostility, but he only had more questions following Zayne’s answer.
It seemed the conversation was enough to wake you up from your slumber, and the moment you registered your surroundings, the headache you had was amplified tenfold. Your muscles hurt from sleeping on the hard floor, and you were sure your legs had morphed into jelly.
You were never drinking again.
“Well hello, sleeping beauty.” Sylus watched as you groggily rubbed your eyes. The right side of your face had an indent matching the pattern of his rug, and your hair was dishevelled. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.
“Sylus. I’m so sorry.” You spoke through a yawn before cradling your head in your hands. The world needed to stop spinning.
Sylus shoved an open bottle of water in your face, and you greedily snatched the peace offering before he had time to change his mind.
“Zayne called, said he had some news about your mother.”
You shot straight up, spilling some water in the process.
“What did he say? Where’s my phone?” You glanced at large Sylus’s hand which was wrapped around said phone. If you weren’t so worried about your mother, you might’ve found the sight of Sylus holding something covered in a floral case amusing. Powering through the piercing pain in your temple, you held your hand out.
“Please give it back.”
“What’s wrong with your mother?”
“Please Sylus, I can’t do this right now.” You tried to lunge for the phone, but he was faster. Raising his hand above his head and well out of your reach.
“You’ll have this back once you answer my question.”
“She has the flu. Now give it back.” You jumped up in a feeble attempt to retrieve the phone, but he was just so goddamn tall.
“I didn’t know flu treatment protocol involved heart surgery now. Guess I need to brush up on the latest medical news.” His sardonic tone made you scoff. Only Sylus could be such a dick while your mother's life was in limbo.
Curse Dr Zayne and his blabbermouth.
If it wasn’t for the severe hangover, you might’ve been able to think of an explanation. But you were so nervous you felt sick and you needed to know the news Dr Zayne had.
“Fine. She needs a heart transplant, she’s on coronary bypass and if she doesn’t get a heart soon she’ll die. Is that good enough for you?” You continued to try to reach the phone, not bothering to check Sylus’s reaction to your confession.
He dropped the phone in your hand and you all but sprinted out of the living room to make the phone call.
The line rang once, twice, three times before Zayne picked up.
“Y/N?”
“Yes! What’s wrong? Is my mom okay? Tell me she’s okay.”
“Slow down, she’s alive, but she had a cardiac event. Not a heart attack, but it still did some damage. Her condition is worse, much worse, Y/N. I’m sorry.”
Your back slumped against the wall of the hallway and you felt your knees give in as you slid to the floor.
“How long does she have?” The tears streaming down your face fell onto your shirt, leaving uncomfortable wet spots in their wake.
“A few weeks, a month’s top. But this did move her to the top of the list. She might get a transplant in time.” Zayne must have heard the sadness in your voice if he’d offered words of encouragement. He never did that.
“Thank you. I’m going to come see her.”
“I’ll get the nurses to bring in an extra bed. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond so you hung up instead. The pain in your head was now but a mere memory as your heart began to splinter into a million little pieces.
There was so much you still had to do. You needed to buy your mom her first ever house, and help her plant the prettiest flowers in the garden. You had to get her the dog she always dreamed about and the outdoor swing she missed from her childhood home. She still had to walk you down the aisle and sing your future children the lullabies she sang to you. She couldn’t go. Not yet.
You didn’t even notice Sylus enter the hallway until you felt him sitting down next to you. He wove an arm behind your head, bringing your face into his chest. The intimacy of the act only made you cry harder. The last person to hold you that close was your mom, a few days before she’d collapsed.
“It hurts.” You choked on your words and they came out muffled against Sylus’s chest.
“What hurts?” He asked.
“My heart. It really hurts, Sylus.” You sobbed harder. It felt good to finally admit that you weren’t okay. To have someone hold you as your life fell apart around you.
“Tell me what to do, Y/N. Anything.”
“Can I have some time off?” You took deep breaths as you tried to slow your crying down. You could break down once you reached the other side of this tumultuous predicament.
The humble request drove Sylus insane. He’d offer you his own heart to save your mother if he wasn’t sure it was severely damaged, and all you could think to ask for was time off.
“Of course.”
“Can you give me a ride to Linkon?”
That request was a little better, but still not enough.
“I’ll take you now, come on.”
“No wait, I need to go home and pack some things. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“You know you can still get a DUI on a pedal bike, right?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“But there’s still alcohol in your system, and you’re very upset. It won’t be safe, I’ll take you home on the way. Let’s go.” He stood up, his hand outstretched toward you.
And with a heavy heart, you took Sylus’s hand.
✨ NEW STORY ANNOUNCEMENT! ✨
(A Slow Burn, Second Chance, Pilot x Ground Controller Romance)
Summary: Y/N and Caleb once sat in the same classroom, dreaming of the skies. She was the quiet, shy girl with a crush on the golden boy of aviation school—the one who made flying look effortless. Years later, she’s a dedicated ground controller, guiding planes from the safety of the tower, while Caleb is soaring through the clouds as a commercial pilot.
Their paths were never meant to cross again… until their meddling mothers set them up on the same blind date.
But there’s a catch—Caleb doesn’t recognize her.
What starts as an awkward, mismatched date soon turns into something else when fate keeps pulling them back together. Between late-night flights, stolen conversations, and the quiet longing of two people who were always meant to meet again, will Caleb finally realize the girl he overlooked might be the one who was always waiting for him?
Masterlist
💫 Episode One: A Date Written in the Stars
💫 Episode Two: The Past Comes Full Circle
💫Episode Three: A Question Left Hanging
💫Episode Four: A Place to Land
💫Side-Story: A Marriage of Convenience
💫Episode Five: A Love That Lands
💫Episode Six: A Storm Brewing
💫Episode Seven: Under Pressure
💫Episode Eight: Close Encounters
💫Episode Nine: A Night of Realizations
💫Episode Ten: The Ring and the Accusation
🛫 Tropes & Vibes: ✔️ Slow Burn & Second Chances ✔️ Grounded x Skybound Dynamic ✔️ Oblivious Male Lead™ ✔️ Late-night conversations & longing looks ✔️ Fate keeps throwing them together
Taglist: OPEN comment below if you wanna be in the tag list
Rotten Apples
masterlist , part two , part three
pairing: caleb x non!mc reader
synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.
word count: 5.1k words
warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!
author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33
edit: part 2 will be coming soon! thank you for all the love on this! i love & appreciate every single one of you!
You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.
And she always needed something.
Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.
She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.
However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.
When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.
Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.
You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.
“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.
At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.
It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.
When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.
It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.
Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.
You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.
You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.
And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.
“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”
Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming grin on his face.
“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.
Us. That damned word.
“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”
Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.
“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”
“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”
A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.
“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.
“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”
You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?
“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.
“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.
“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.
“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep.
“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.
Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?
Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.
“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”
The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.
The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.
And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted.
The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.
So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.
The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.
You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.
The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.
It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.
She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.
You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.
The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.
You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.
“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.
“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”
“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.
A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.
A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.
Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.
Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.
But none of them are Caleb.
You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.
Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?
Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?
You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.
“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.
You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?
“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.
“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.
The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.
An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.
“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.
“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.
The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you.
The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.
The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.
“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.
“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.
A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.
“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”
The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.
The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.
“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.
The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.
You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.
Stranger danger, after all.
“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”
“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.
You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.
He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.
Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.
This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.
“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.
“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”
You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.
“You done yet?”
“You’re alive!”
“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.
Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.
Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.
“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.
How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.
Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.
He’s alive.
He’s here.
He’s breathing.
His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.
You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.
Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.
“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”
His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.
“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.
How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.
Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?
Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.
You know. You know the answer.
Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.
“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.
Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.
His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.
You need to get home.
You need to get home and get away from him.
You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.
If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.
“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.
You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.
Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.
You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.
You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.
Whatever. He’s an idiot.
He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.
You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.
Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.
And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?
His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.
You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.
His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.
She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.
Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.
His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.
How could he have been so blind?
His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.
Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.
Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.
Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.
He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.
And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.
But now?
Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.
Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.
He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.
What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.
You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.
You’re so thoughtful.
How did you know those are his favorite colors?
Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.
Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
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the first time he met you, your evols resonated so well with each other — it leveled an entire building to the ground and three others. the clean up was a mess but at that time his lips quirked up in a slanted smile. “I guess you’re mine now.”
———————————————————————
you do not agree with his territorial claims. in fact, if anything, a part of you is busy rolling your eyes at the audacity of men to not give you a say. but it was nice, to unleash that much power, and to know you hold it. that here is someone able to make you feel good about your abilities and someone who gives a clear guide as to where you stand in their life: an asset, valuable. secretly, you’ve always loved the rush of feeling powerful and here is a man who hands it to you.
a part of your mind labels him as worth sticking around for.
———————————————————————
you strike an unlikely friendship with him. he tells you about his search for his reincarnated soulmate. you listen even if it sounds like a fantasy to you — to be around someone who is pretty much proof that reincarnation and past lives exist is difficult to grasp but you also have an open mind — and it’s nice, you think, to watch him reminisce even if you can read the melancholy in his eyes. you don’t push him for answers, content with what he’s willing to share and recognize it when he wants to pull back. it’s nice to know he has a weakness; it’s nice to know he’s the type of person to relentlessly go after what he wants.
it’s another mark on your book to keep sticking around him. you like people that inspire you to do more in your life. you hope he meets her soon.
when he asks you jokingly if you’ve met your soulmate, you tell him blankly you have no idea. shouldn’t it be evident enough from the way you stick around him instead?
it’s the first time you hear him laugh.
———————————————————————
so you help out when he tells you he has an inkling he’s found her. a hunter with a protocore for a heart based in linkon.
you object at his stupid and idiotic behavior of stalking her. this is why he’s single all these years, you think. no tact whatsoever and is the poster child for terrifying your crush instead of being normal around them. you tell him as much. he looks so offended you can’t help but laugh and feel bad enough you give him pointers instead.
like, let you do the scouting and snooping to get to know her. secretly you also want to know who she is — you’re a bit nosy like that when it comes to the lives of the people around you. you want to know if she’s worth his attention and weigh the change in dynamic between you and him if she’s in the picture.
did he let you? yes. you get to know her absolutely terrible skills at kitty cards and her refusal to admit defeat. it’s fine, you get it, pride is all one tend to have and you also are a sore loser sometimes; you just mask it well. weekly, you’ll meet up to play them in the card cafe if both of your schedules align.
did he ignore your advice? yes. because men, you learn, sometimes love loopholes. so off he goes making the mechanical crow he names mephisto to which you point out what a terrible name it was: it’s too clunky, you say to justify yourself.
he stares at you unimpressed. “it means not lovi—“
“—ng light,” you continue, “i know. had to google it and everything.”
“so?” as if it proves his point of being a skilled namer of things.
you shrug, “sounds like you’re trying too hard.” you refrain from saying it doesn’t sound like him at all even if the meaning does sound like him.
“you’re such a hater,” he grouses.
“i’m not,” you insist, extending a finger to… mephie. that’s cuter in your head. “you’re hurting his feelings for naming him something awful.”
“he’s a robot.”
“a robot doesn’t need a custom stand perch in every room in this house.” mephie shuffles towards you and nudges your hand with his head. “don’t listen to him sweetheart. you’re the sweetest,” you coo to the crow. you’ve always liked animals most would associate with omens: crows, snakes, black cats.
you give him the stink eye when he sends mephie to stalk his beloved. an absolute spoilsport.
———————————————————————
when she stayed at the manor and your lives collide, you keep out of their way and stay in your assigned wing in the base. both of you have agreed you’ll tell her about you knowing him at a different time — maybe an orchestrated visit by him to your weekly kitty card cafe game and then she’ll ask of how you are acquainted. luke and kieran have been giggling nonstop and you send them your thoughts and prayers for their next prank. it’s a reunion you don’t wish to intrude upon and you’ve told him off when you hear how he treated her at first sight. you hope he’s making it up to her as mephie nudged your fingers for more pets.
a robot, my ass, you think. the clinginess is worth studying even as you indulge its every whim. animals have never harmed you; it’s why you find it easy for them to love. once, a palm reader in linkon stationed at the card cafe stop you and tell you you’ve saved animals in your past life. you take it in stride, knowing what you know about reincarnation from sylus. you are impressed and starting to consider maybe there’s really truth in past lives as the first dream you had growing up was a field you get to roam in. it was also where you administer first aid to beasts and gazelles injured in the wild, like a field doctor, no matter how improbable that is logistically.
you await the gossip session come sunrise, or the weekend or whenever their honeymoon ends.
———————————————————————
“she doesn’t remember.”
he tells you this in his office without prompt. miss hunter has left the premises two days prior and you were happy to not pry. if he wanted to tell you, he would.
you recalibrate your response. sorry is too trite and you personally don’t get heartaches and the melodrama of a heartbreak. to act otherwise would be insulting and not maintain your integrity and yet even you know it’s callous.
sylus sends a wry smile your way, “no tears for me?”
“you don’t need it,” you say, then, choose your words carefully because you do consider him as a friend. “all i know about love is people leave even when you don’t want them to. so i find it hard to imagine being sad that they don’t stay.”
he frowns. “you don’t believe that.” a statement. he knows you a bit too well for your liking sometimes.
“no,” you agree, “it’s what i learned.”
a silence passes between you, too heavy for your liking, so you wave it away, “what i’m trying to say is i can’t promise she’ll remember one day or that she’ll be who she is in your memory, but anyone worthwhile would appreciate the effort you’ve put into finding her.”
“so long as you don’t terrorize her,” you add as levity.
he snorts. “i’ll try not to.”
“i’m serious,” you start. “you can be…”
he raises an eyebrow.
charming, sincere, lovable
“…passable: not terrible to be around.”
“passable,” he repeats.
“i mean i haven’t killed you,” you say. “yet.”
“a stellar review.”
you roll your eyes. “it is. you should be grateful about that.”
he huffs a laugh.
“i’m also giving you full permission to mope for five business days.”
“only five?”
“you won’t stop moping after five days. i’m just giving you a heads up as to when i will stop pretending not seeing you cry and be obnoxious about it.”
“duly noted. shall we sign an agreement for that as well?”
“i don’t know. is your memory deteriorating that quick?”
“are you calling me old?”
“you did. i never said that,” you stand up and head towards the door, considering your job done when you spot the amusement in his eyes. “now i’m going to go see what luke and kieran want for lunch. you want anything?”
“the usual’s fine.”
you give him a thumbs up in acknowledgement, leaving him to brood.
———————————————————————
life goes on. you let him wallow by distracting him with offers to spar so you can brush up on your self defense skills. unlike miss hunter, you have abysmal fighting skills. a sword feels too heavy on you, a gun feels too detached, and you never like the idea of hurting anything. you’re interested in self defense even before meeting sylus so that’s the one concession you are willing to learn in an effort to arm yourself. it’s why sylus never sends you out for missions often, which suits you just fine. you like your limbs in tact, thanks. you’re content to being brought out only when he needs backup to resonate with you or information you can gather posing as a civilian.
in return you learn how to heal, how to suture, keep compression on wounds. in a twisted way, you fulfill your mother’s lifelong dream of seeing you be a doctor, though it’s not like she knows what you really do far away from home.
not that sylus gets injured often, you’ve seen his skin knit itself back together. you’re not too worried though it does make you wonder if your treatment is even needed and why sylus would indulge you. he indulges luke and kieran’s pranks so if you’re bad at your medical skills, it’s probably his version of indulging you. nothing to get so worked up about, you decide. sometimes you think despite a tough life that turns many to cruelty, he’s still kind. maybe that’s just how some people are: inherently good with compulsions to do good. you wish you had that kind of integrity. maybe you’ll be more successful then. fulfill your potential the way people expected you to instead of playing house even if you’re content with where you are.
———————————————————————
on a fine day, miss hunter takes you out for shopping. gifts! she cheerfully announces as christmas looms around the corner. you follow her around the mall after your weekly kitty card game. it’s been three weeks since the last one; she was stationed for a mission out of town and you’re glad she’s returned back just fine.
you see her picking up gifts for her coworkers, the childhood friend turned doctor, an artist she complains about often, even sylus is on the list along with luke and kieran. what a full life, you think, to shop for so many people.
the crow household — as you like to name it in your head — occasionally does celebrate in their own way, but crime doesn’t wait for anybody and since you’ve been with them, there was only one instance where the four of you shared dinner together on christmas night. gifts are not a tradition solely on christmas in the household so there was never any import on holiday shopping sprees. maybe things will change with miss hunter after all.
she tugs you to a craft store and a red pattern catches your eye, calling out to you.
“it looks like the flower you like to doodle,” miss hunter says from behind you.
you hum, filing the fact she’s observant enough and has good enough memory to remember the one time you doodle on a notebook waiting for her even when you quickly snap it shut once she makes herself known. truthfully, you doodle the flowers without thought — the same way someone would doodle clouds or spirals or hearts absentmindedly. you didn’t think the flower you doodle about would be based on a real one. you figure it was just your brain’s way being creative to draw the kind of basic flower outline everyone learns to draw as kids and you trying to change the petals to something much sharper like shards. maybe you’ll look up what flower it is later at home.
you grab the wrapping paper as an impulse buy.
———————————————————————
in the end you give a diffuser set to miss hunter at the end of your shopping trip. you get sylus a pair of onyx cufflinks and matching hoodies monogramed with their names for kieran and luke to replace the ones that got busted during their latest mission.
you place the gifts in their respective rooms when they’re out of the mansion and go to bed.
when you wake up and head to the breakfast bar, the twins are lounging and lazing about with unrestrained glee in their countenance. it’s nice to see them not wearing the masks; kieran’s scar treatment is going well. you elect to maintain your peace and ignore their eyes trained on you. it’s probably another harmless prank.
“we love the hoodie,” luke says, all delight conspiracy lacing his voice.
you hum in acknowledgment as you pour hot water for your morning tea. “i’m glad you like them.” you’re feeling chrysanthemum. now where did it go? you rummage through the cupboard and ask if they know where the flowers are, not paying attention enough to puzzle out kieran’s cryptic whisper to his twin, “i told you so.”
there’s the sound of someone slapping someone’s arm — probably the boys play fighting again — and luke calling out, “chrysanthemum is on the left. bottom drawer.”
“thanks, luke!” they’re sweet to you and occasionally, they’ll rope you in on their schemes so there’s never a dull moment around. when sylus first welcomes you, one of the twins will always keep you company. probably as a surveillance measure from sylus.
“boss is away,” kieran, the more sensible one says though the mischief in his voice is still very much present.
“he should be back soon,” luke adds.
you give a sound of acknowledgment. they like to tell you where the boss is all the time and you’ve always taken it in stride as their habit to inform you even if it’s obvious when sylus is not present sometimes. it’s an indulgence you make for them — to not dismiss their announcement outright especially when you’re aware of said fact and pretend each time that they’re delivering some grand news you don’t know. you suspect it’s now more of a tradition than anything else, knowing how sharp they are. you watch the flowers bloom under hot water and blow on the cup, impatient for a sip even if it’s still a weak brew.
“in about 2 minutes, i reckon,” kieran says, which is new. they don’t normally give you sylus’ eta. you eye them warily.
“no, a minute and 47 seconds. i tracked his bike.”
“that’s cheating.”
“only cuz you didn’t think of it first.”
kieran throws his hands up and grumbles about not wanting to pay up for the bet.
further down the hall, the front door swings open.
“well, none of us win then,” kieran says.
“i’m still closer so i win.”
“no,” kieran explains, patiently, and hauls his twin up. “we never said it should be accurate on the dot.”
“oh look at the time,” luke feigns ignorance to his twin and starts making his way towards the exit. “it’s our cue to leave. bye miss!”
“have fun!” kieran tells you as he chases his twin with arguments as to why he owes him nothing and the bet is a bust.
you raise your hand in a wave to empty air, wondering what that is all about before chucking it to their typical shenanigans. it’s a crisp winter morning so you decide to spend a bit of time leaning on the kitchen island with your tea and a sudoku puzzle on your phone. heavy footsteps alert you to sylus heading your way and when you feel his presence in the room, you greet him without looking up, counting the number of 4s on the board. “welcome back.”
you pen a 7 on the upper right hand box and put down the phone when there’s no response. maybe he wants to talk? he’s not moving nor did he acknowledge your greeting. it’s then when you see the cufflinks on his sleeves. “oh, you found the cufflinks! did you like it?”
there’s a perplexing look on his face as he approaches you— one you’re not familiar with. you wonder if maybe he doesn’t like it and is coming up with a way to ask if you have the receipt still to do a full return. you know he doesn’t wear long sleeves often or he does but the sleeves are usually rolled up, but you have seen him with the full get up with a suit and everything once in a while when meetings are set up and events where formal wear is required. you didn’t expect him to wear it so soon… maybe there’s a defect you didn’t spot? you decide to save him the trouble, “if you don’t like it, it’s fine! i can return them if you want.”
“no,” his voice like gravel. “it’s a great gift.”
“oh,” you reply stupidly because now you’re not sure why he looks so… solemn? sad? it doesn’t fit him at all. “well, i’m glad you like it.”
“i do.”
“okay.”
his eyes search yours. never had he look at you this way, this… reverent wistfulness you’re not sure you’re meant to see, like he’s memorizing the features on your face. “sylus,” you say, softly, afraid to break this moment you’re not sure is yours to keep, yet is still fragile all the same. “what’s wrong?”
he smiles something awful, all rueful and wrong. “nothing,” he says and it’s starting to worry you — this odd behavior of his. lying so awfully, no comeback to distort the truth somehow. you wonder what happened when he was out. a new threat?
“you’re not going to die are you?”
he chokes out a laugh, “no, no i’m not.”
“okay. then, can i help with this ‘nothing’?”
he looks subdued again, all forlorn with regret. slowly, he raises his hand and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. you hold your breath at the sudden touch, all gentle and careful and again, confusion freezing you in place because yes, friends can touch and tidy your hair, but shouldn’t this only be reserved for miss hunter? it’s also the first time he has ever touched you this gently. you know it’s wrong. he belongs to someone you consider a friend. you’ll berate him tomorrow and come clean to miss hunter tomorrow too. you should stop it, but he looks like he needs it. “don’t worry about it,” he says, and whether he read your mind or he’s refusing your help, you choose to believe him as you always do, savoring the warmth of his hand and a touch not tainted with cruelty.
———————————————————————
end notes:
alexa play: but if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.
in case it wasn't clear: reader is not mc in the current timeline, but reader is the myth mc, just with no memory of it. sylus mistakes game mc as his counterpart. and so the present timeline of sylus meeting game mc exists just the same here.
part 2 | part 3
Chapter 22 [Draft]
Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader
CW:
Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”
[Masterlist🦋✨️]
![Chapter 22 [Draft]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d41feaad1cbce2bf1aad059aa9b7ccb8/abe5b510fc1339af-26/s500x750/ff81c72110e18a55325bf5b7e7893a65f0e8e267.png)
“I’ll go ahead, Jinwoo,” you said softly, giving a brief nod to Adam White, the agent from the American Hunter Bureau. The man returned the gesture politely, professionalism etched into his features. You turned on your heels, already scanning the area for a secluded spot where you could teleport safely without attracting undue attention.
Before you could take more than a few steps, a hand gently but firmly grasped your left wrist. The contact stopped you mid-step, and you turned halfway, raising a brow in question.
“Jinwoo—” you started, but his expression stopped you before his words.
“Can you stay?” Jinwoo asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. His tone lacked its usual authority, replaced instead by something softer, almost… vulnerable. And so was his expression, the intensity in his grey eyes as they bore into yours, a quiet plea that he seemed unsure how you would respond to. It wasn’t an order or a casual suggestion—it was a genuine request. “Please.”
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the request coupled by the earnestness. His hand remained steady on your arm, his grip, while not forceful, neither was it loose.
Jinwoo was not someone who typically asked for anything, let alone in such a way.
You studied his face, weighing your options. Between the uncharacteristic pleading in his eyes, the whisper-soft quality of his voice, and his hold, it was clear he wouldn’t let go as easily as you would’ve liked. And you doubted it would be worth the trouble to try to convince him otherwise.
Still, seriously, of all the days I decide not to wear my mask, you internally lamented on your decision to forgo the subtle charm that helped mask your presence this time for the memorial service.
Despite your internal grumbling, you conceded with a sigh and allowed a small smile to grace your lips as you nodded.
“Alright.” you murmured, voice light.
At your response, Jinwoo’s neutral expression shifted ever so slightly—his features brightened in a way that was barely noticeable unless one was familiar with him. And unfortunately for you, you were.
Adam, meanwhile, shifted awkwardly on the sidelines. You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, suddenly remembering his presence, and felt a pang of sympathy for the agent. He must have felt incredibly out of place in this strange, silent exchange.
Adam cleared his throat, attempting to regain the momentum of the conversation. “Hunter Sung—”
Before he could finish, Jinwoo pulled you closer with a suddenness that caused you to stumble to his side. Your eyes widened slightly as his grip on your wrist slid to intertwine his fingers with yours.
“Whatever it is you want to tell me,” Jinwoo said calmly, his tone now laced with that quiet authority, “you can tell her.”
You stared at him, lips parting as if to speak but no words came.
The words were simple enough, it wasn’t so much what he said that caught you off guard—it was how he said it. The conviction in his voice was startling, as if his trust in you was absolute, and his words left no room for argument.
You didn’t even have time to recover when Jinwoo glanced down at you, his lips curving into a faint, warm and confident smile.
“She’s someone I can count on,” he added, as if that explained everything.
Adam blinked, visibly thrown off by Jinwoo’s rather blunt declaration. His gaze flickered between the two of you. “Ah, my apologies,” Adam spoke carefully. “Are you two perhaps…?”
Your head snapped toward Adam so quickly that under normal circumstances, you’d have felt a pang of vertigo.
“No!” you blurted out, voice sharper than intended as heat crept up your neck. Quickly regaining your composure, you cleared your throat before continuing more evenly, “You’ve got it wrong, Mr. White. What my friend here meant is that I’m privy to his… rather unique capabilities as a Hunter, and that I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
You managed to keep your tone as steady as possible, ignoring the subtle tightening sensation on your hand somewhere along your choice of words.
Bless Adam White, because he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded politely, accepting your explanation without comment. “Understood. And please, call me Adam, Miss…?”
Adam stretched out his hand and you accepted it with a smile.
“(Name). Just (Name).”
---
After the conversation wrapped up, Adam escorted both of you to the car waiting nearby. As he excused himself to make a quick call—likely to inform his superiors about the additional “guest” accompanying Hunter Sung—you climbed into the back seat alongside Jinwoo.
It wasn’t until the car began moving that you realized: Jinwoo’s hand was still holding yours.
You glanced down at your entwined fingers, then up at him. Nudging his hand discreetly, hoping he’d take the hint.
He didn’t respond, his face calm and composed as if your silent protests didn’t exist.
You tried again, nudging him a little more insistently. “Jinwoo,” you whispered, “Let go.”
Still, nothing. He remained as nonchalant as ever, his focus seemingly on the passing scenery outside the car window.
Eventually, you gave up, resigned to the situation as you leaned back against the seat. If Jinwoo noticed your surrender, he didn’t show it, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he was aware.
Still, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under other’s occasional glances.
From his spot in the front seat, Adam’s eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror. His gaze lingered for a moment before quickly darting away. It was impossible not to, especially after he saw the way the S-ranker’s eyes glowed earlier when you’d referred to him as a “friend.”
Strangely, there was no intel about you, not any that Adam had received anyway. It was as if you went off the radar completely. But how was that possible, if you were this close to Hunter Sung Jinwoo?
The agent glanced between the two of you once or twice and wisely chose to remain silent.
The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence as Jinwoo sat beside you, his usual demeanor in place as if this casual intimacy was the most natural thing in the world. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel acutely aware of his presence.
The coolness of his hand, how calloused it was.
When his thumb brushed against your skin briefly—a motion so fleeting you almost convinced yourself it didn’t happen.
As the vehicle continue to move nearing your destination, you silently wondered why, despite of it all, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.
---
Tis as you said, Mother.
Red’s voice echoed faintly in your mind, amusement dancing at the edges of her words.
She really does have them wrapped around her fingers!
You heard Trick’s giggles next, and the others joined in soon after. A cascade of light chimes in your head, each of them speaking in turn as they observed the woman named Norma Selner through your eyes. Their presence in your thoughts was both comforting and mildly distracting.
Norma, for her part, glanced in your direction briefly, likely sensing your gaze. You offered her a soft, unassuming smile and a polite nod. She returned the gesture before focusing her attention back on Jinwoo.
You mentally praised yourself, your children, and the system for the careful layering of enchantments that blanketed your nature so thoroughly. To fool someone like Norma Selner at first glance—someone with her unique gift—was no small feat.
Speaking of the system…
Are you going to intervene? The tone you used in your mind calm but probing. You know what she’s capable of, don’t you?
The response was silence. Not a sound, not a whisper. Nothing.
You sighed inwardly. Really, the empty reply didn’t surprise you. If the system had no objection, it meant the matter was left to you to handle. Typical.
---
Norma Selner was trapped in darkness.
It stretched infinitely in every direction, the pitch-black void with no sign of life. Nothing but an overwhelming emptiness. An endless abyss, where no light penetrated and no sound carried. The air was cold, almost biting, yet it felt weightless and suffocating all at once.
She turned frantically, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this oppressive nothingness.
Her breathing quickened as she tried to move, but the weight of the void pressed against her limbs, making her movements sluggish. Frantic, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this nothingness.
When her eyes drifted upward, she saw it.
A presence loomed above her, formless yet all-encompassing. Its gaze piercing and ancient, and it was staring back at her, dissecting her, peeling away every layer of her being.
It filled her with an indescribable, primal fear.
A scream clawed at her throat, but before she could release it, a faint glow fluttered at the edge of her vision.
A butterfly.
Delicate and luminous as it danced in the void. A tiny beacon, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness.
“Come with us!” chimed a chorus of soft, bell-like voices.
Her trembling legs moved on instinct, her body scrambling to follow the glittery trail left behind without a second thought.
The abyss seemed to shift as she ran, the oppressive darkness trailing after her, neither rushing nor retreating. Instead, it moved as though it were tethered to the guiding light.
The void began to change.
The darkness beneath her feet gave way to splashes of crimson, blooming into vivid red spider lilies, their petals stark against the blackness. With every step she took, the flowers spread further, their roots twisting into the emptiness and replacing it with something tangible.
Bare feet splashed into shallow water, the sound oddly grounding, sending ripples across its surface. She looked down, startled, to see the night sky reflected perfectly in the liquid mirror beneath her. Above her, stars shimmered like diamonds scattered across the vastness of space.
She came to a stop, breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. The butterfly of light had vanished, leaving her alone amidst the endless field of red flowers that seemed to sway with an unseen breeze. Gone with them the fear that had gripped her prior.
And then she felt it.
Warmth.
It radiated through her body and soul, soothing every nerve and easing every ounce of tension she carried, melting away like frost under the morning sun. She barely noticed as a pair of hands cradled her face gently, tilting it upward.
Norma found herself staring at a figure clad in flowing white. Under the veil, molten gold eyes met her own. They were luminous yet distant, like sunlight filtered through a mist. She couldn’t look away.
The figure exuded an aura of pure, untainted comfort. Norma felt her knees weaken under the weight of their presence, not from fear, but from an overwhelming sense of belonging.
“Wake up,” the figure mouthed, tender yet commanding.
Norma’s lips parted as if to respond, but she couldn’t form the words. Their warmth was intoxicating and she felt herself sinking into the divine embrace, wanting nothing more than to remain there. Forever.
But the words came again, firmer this time, like a gentle pull back to reality.
“Wake up.”
---
Norma Selner jolted awake, gasping for breath.
The fluorescent lights of the meeting room above her felt harsh against her eyes. It was also loud with commotion, voices overlapping as figures moved in her periphery, while she could barely process her surroundings. Everything felt distant and distorted.
“I apologize, Mr. Sung, Miss (Name),” came a calm yet firm voice. It was Michael Conner, the deputy director. His tone carried a measured mix of authority and unease. “Our agents stepped out of line.”
Words were exchanged, but Norma couldn’t register them. Her trembling hands clutched her head, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, though whether from fear or something else entirely, she couldn’t tell
The deputy director’s voice broke through again, this time directed at her.
“Mrs. Selner? What’s wrong?”
She blinked rapidly through her blurred vision, chest still heaving heavily.
“You’re sweating profusely,” Michael said, filled with concern. “Are you feeling ill?”
Norma tried to respond, but her throat felt dry, and her thoughts remained scattered.
“It seems Mrs. Selner isn’t feeling well today,” Michael added, his tone returned to professional and polite as he spoke to Jinwoo. “Can we contact you another time?”
“Wait.”
Somehow, Norma could single out that soft, melodic voice through the haze.
“I’m a healer. I can at least stabilize her condition, if you’ll allow me.”
Michael looked uncertain, but after a quick glance at Norma’s state, he nodded reluctantly. “Please, if you’re able to help her.”
You moved closer to the trembling woman, careful not to overwhelm her with sudden movements. Kneeling beside her, you gently placed your hands on either side of her face. She flinched at the contact, but the moment your magic flowed through her, she stilled.
Like sunlight breaking through clouds, warmth enveloped her once again, though it was softer, less overwhelming than—
Her breathing slowed, and the trembling in her limbs subsided.
Norma finally looked up, meeting your gaze.
“Y-you…” she croaked, her voice hoarse and weak.
“Shh,” you interrupted softly, your tone soothing. “Mrs. Selner, please focus on calming yourself first, alright? Everything else can wait.”
Though your voice was kind, there was a gentle finality to your words. Despite the comfort you exuded, Norma couldn’t shake the weight of something absolute—an unspoken order she had no choice but to obey.
Her lips pressed together in silent compliance as she nodded faintly, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of your touch a moment longer.
---
"My..."
It was faint, distant yet heavy, reverberating with its own brand resonance, an echo from the depths of the pitch-black void.
"My...Lord..."
There it was again—the voice that whispered the moment you connected your space with Norma Selner’s consciousness, delving into the depths of her mind and subsequently brushing against something far older, far darker.
The first time, you stiffened at the sound, not out of fear but from recognition. There was something achingly familiar in the tone, something that resonated deep within you.
"Is…that...you…?"
As you stood at the border, the voice echoed again, closer this time, yet wavering, tinged with denial and something akin to long-lost longing.
"Impos...sible..."
You didn’t move to retreat as shadowy wisps emerged from the abyss, curling outward like hands reaching for you. They stopped mere inches from your form, and it was hard to make out through the ever-changing smoke, but you had a feeling that they were trembling, as if afraid their touch would break the illusion. Or was it unsure of their welcome?
There was a battle in your mind, with two opposing sides.
You should have been alarmed; the situation was rife with danger, uncertainty, and countless unknowns. Yet, you didn’t fully understand why, but you felt no fear. Something in you—a quiet yet inexplicable confidence—assured you that whatever dwelled in this darkness would not harm you.
And so, following the feeling you couldn’t name and ignoring the flicker of logic warning you against it, you raised your hands.
Your palms pressed gently against the shadowy wisps. The tendrils were both intangible and tangible; past the ephemeral smoke, ethereal to the touch, was cold as metal. They quivered at your gesture but didn’t pull away as you slowly guided them to your face, resting their hard edges against your cheeks.
The icy touch reminded you of a certain raven-haired protagonist. You closed your eyes, welcoming their hesitant presence with calm serenity.
"You...are...not..."
The voice grew clearer, imbued with an unplaceable mix of awe and turmoil.
"How...?"
You opened your eyes then, gazing into the abyss with a tenderness that seemed to soften even the restless darkness starting to embrace you whole in accordance to the crumbling space behind you.
You asked, your voice calm, serene.
“Are you upset?”
There was a pause, the silence stretching, until the shadowy thumb brushed against your cheek. Its sharp edges moving with the utmost care, as though they feared leaving a mark on your skin.
"No."
The answer came at last, heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite identify.
"I...do…not...know..."
“Then,” you began, your voice unwavering as you continue to cradle his hands in yours.
“Will you let me see you again soon?”
---
After stabilizing Norma Selner’s condition and ensuring she was in no immediate danger, you and Jinwoo were escorted to his car.
As Adam’s car disappeared down the street, Jinwoo was the first to speak.
“Is it really okay?” his tone measured, though his gaze was sharp as he watched you. “Showing your powers to her like that.”
Your eyes remained on the direction the agent’s vehicle had gone, a butterfly trailed discreetly behind it. Jinwoo spotted the second one you had planted on Norma Selner earlier, fluttering innocuously on her shoulder.
“She only saw a glimpse,” you answered smoothly. “Besides, there’s no point in hiding from someone like her. She’ll find out sooner than later, and I’d rather she learn under my terms.”
Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she’s truly capable of?”
You finally turned to him; your expression as unreadable as they were distant. “Yes.”
“So, I’m guessing it’s a fail?”
You gave him a flat look before answering. “Your powers have no limits, Jinwoo. Her abilities won’t work on you.”
Jinwoo absorbed that information in silence, then added, “Or on you.”
You didn’t confirm or deny it, only staring back at him with an inscrutable gaze.
Between the two of you, this was familiar by now, an indication that this was as far as you could tell him, as far as the system would let you anyway. There was no need for words, and Jinwoo could proudly say that he could take it with a stride now.
He gestured to his car.
“Let me drive you home,” Before you could decline, he added, “I want to talk to you.”
---
The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the space between you. You sat in the front passenger seat, your gaze wandering on the passing scenery outside the window, where other vehicles blur by.
“So,” you began, breaking the quiet, “what is it?”
Jinwoo tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“It’s overdue, I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation. “For back then—at my rank re-evaluation.”
He heard a soft sigh and Jinwoo snuck a quick glance as you shifted in your seat. You were looking straight ahead now, expression still hard to read.
“I should’ve been more careful,” he continued, the words spilling out faster now, tinged with regret. “You told me before, that you wanted to stay hidden, and I should’ve respected that. I admit I got…distracted. Too caught up in wanting to show you how far I’d come. But that’s no excuse for crossing your boundaries like that.”
He took a deep breath before adding, “I’m sorry.”
“Jinwoo…” Your voice was too quiet. He wondered if he somehow messed up again.
“I’m sorry too.”
That was the last thing Jinwoo expected to hear. His grip on the steering wheel momentarily loosening as he caught himself. He shot you a quick glance a second time before returning his eyes to the road.
“Why are you apologizing? You didn’t—”
“I was high-strung that day,” you cut him off gently, probably already anticipating his protest. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I forgive you. Just…” You paused, turning to look at him. “Just tell me in advance next time you’re planning to pull something like that. Clearly.” You emphasized, though your gaze softened.
“Like when you wanted me to accompany you in meeting the U.S. Hunter Bureau just now.”
The road was mercifully empty as Jinwoo risked another glance at you, and the sight of your expression made his chest tighten unexpectedly.
“Thank you for that.”
The setting sun illuminated your face as you said it sincerely. The way your eyes shine with unmistakable fondness, expression warm and tender. The shy smile tugging at your lips, carrying an undeniable gentleness. Your unwavering attention. All of it—at this moment—directed solely at him.
How utterly lovely.
Jinwoo’s throat felt dry, and he quickly looked back at the road.
“R-right. You’re welcome. I mean—” He stumbled over his words, the tips of his ears burned. “I forgive you too…”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your shoulders shaking slightly as you covered your mouth. Failing to prevent a few giggle that managed to slip by.
Jinwoo felt heated up—the warmth a similar kind to when you held hands or when you were in pretty close proximity—and he had half a mind to crank up the AC.
Still, he couldn’t help the giddiness. Because in that moment, he didn’t mind embarrassing himself if it meant hearing your sweet laughter again.
![Chapter 22 [Draft]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0ca1156cf17bfad86dc0d92f96f260d2/abe5b510fc1339af-e0/s500x750/7313b250054532b508b26e634066879292bef319.png)
End Note:
Unfinished Draft of [28/11/2024] -
I want to ask for your opinions this time 🙏
Imagine #1
Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader
CW: Implied Yandere (If you squint), mild grotesque imaginary of killing a magic beast
Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”
This is now officially a series! You can check "Trial Player AU" here: [Masterlist🦋✨️]
You never imagined your life would take such a drastic turn. One moment, you were typing away on your laptop, and the next, you found yourself in a universe where Hunters, dungeons, and magic were the norm.
As a casual fan of the manhwa, you were more than familiar with the storyline and its characters. But this was real, painfully real, and your heart raced in your chest as you tried to make sense of it all.
Isekai'd into the world of Solo Leveling was unexpected, but this?
This was even more bizarre.
___
Isekai stories were meant to be fun. A fresh start in a different world with cool powers and thrilling adventures, right?
[Congratulations!
You have been selected by the System for an exclusive test run.]
The first time you saw that message, you had no idea what it meant. But after receiving a few more cryptic messages and nearly dying in a lower-rank dungeon?
You would be foolish if continue that thought.
You weren’t just dropped into this world—you were the 'Trial Player'. A glitch, a test subject for the system before it latched onto its true player.
It sounded like a game, a brief test before things returned to normal.
Except now you’re stuck.
___
You didn’t want to interfere, to change the storyline you knew too well.
The system gave you powers once you started leveling up.
Since you weren’t a fighter by nature, learning how to defend yourself have been a whole other story. Healing however, had come to you almost too naturally. You were rather fortunate (or is it unfortunate?) in that regard, as you discovered early on that your specialized ability was more… versatile, than it seemed.
Simply put, they were dual-edged.
Healing and harming were two sides of the same coin—just a matter of intent.
You could heal yourself and allies just fine, but with enemies? The same touch that mended could also cause harm.
A giant serpent once learned that the hard way.
___
The cold wind brushed against your face as you stared down at the monstrous serpent writhing in its final throes. You hadn’t meant to do it that way—honestly, it was an accident.
You had only wanted to defend yourself, yet in an act of panic, you had somehow amplified the beast's venom glands, forcing it to produce venom at an uncontrollable rate to the point of overloading its own internal organs.
The monster literally drowned in its own deadly concoction.
As the hissing faded, you watched with wide eyes as the giant serpent collapsed, dead. A familiar notification dinged in the corner of your vision.
[Congratulations!
You have successfully defeated a C-Rank Venom Serpent!]
The cheerful tone that rang in your ears was far too enthusiastic for your liking.
[System will now place Blue Venom-Fanged Kasaka in its place.]
You let out a shaky breath, still in shock.
[You have just proven yourself to be quite entertaining,
Trial Player (Name)_
Shall we continue with more interesting challenges?]
What the hell just happened?
___
From the start, you’d made the decision to stay under the radar.
At first, it was overwhelming.
The system's notifications, the power you gained with each step, and the dangerous world you were thrust into were enough to make anyone completely lost their mind.
But, despite the insanity of your new reality, you had to admit you’d adapted rather well.
From that day forward, the system acted more like a mischievous partner than a mere overseer.
In fact, the system had seemed delighted by your attempts to remain discreet, since it was more than willing to help you falsify your ranking, allowing you to masquerade as a mere C-rank. Not that you cared much about rankings, but blending in was important, especially since you knew what was coming. You didn't want to stand out when the real chaos began.
The system had its reasons, no doubt, but you didn’t question it. As long as it kept your secret and allowed you to survive without drawing too much attention, you were content.
With your knowledge of the Solo Leveling storyline—albeit you still need to fill in some gaps in your memory here and there—you avoided changing the narrative too much. However, when it came to the protagonist, you found it difficult to completely stay away.
As a fan, you already knew what hardships awaited him, and as much as you tried not to interfere, your heart ached terribly seeing him suffer through his early days as an E-rank hunter.
Even knowing he’d become the world’s strongest eventually, you still found yourself lessening his burden.
You weren’t trying to change anything significant—just minor things. Healing him faster when he was injured and unconscious after dangerous raids, anonymously covering some of his mother's medical bills, leaving useful items at his doorstep. All of it was done behind the curtain, leaving no trace.
You kept your distance; each act was a silent tribute to a hero you believed deserved better.
Or maybe, it was because you saw something in him that reminded you of your own struggle—your own loneliness in this strange world.
After all, this wasn’t your story. It was his.
___
You vowed not to meddle in the timeline.
That was to say, you had no intention of getting involved in the main storyline.
So, when the time came for him to finally accept the system’s offer and became the player, the trial period for you ended.
The screens pop-ups ceased.
The missions vanished.
The system had gone silent.
You could finally step back, let him take the reins. You could enjoy the world for yourself, live your life in this reality.
Or so you thought.
___
It was supposed to be a quiet day, just like any other.
You found yourself wandering through a familiar street in Seoul, lost in thought.
You weren’t sure what it was that tipped you off—the weight of someone’s gaze on your back, perhaps—but when you turned around, your breath hitched.
Gaze locked in with sharp, glowing blue.
And a familiar chirp in your mind, as smug as ever.
[Fancy meeting you here,
Trial Player (Name)_ ]
Damnit, you sly—!
"‘Trial Player’, huh?"
You clenched your fists and bit your lip as his voice cut through your inner turmoil.
Stormy hues, and ebony locks that looked too fluffy not to touch.
Taller, and his voice deeper than the last time you heard him.
There was no way you could mistake him for someone else.
There was no way you could forget him.
Sung Jinwoo
The system hummed in amusement behind him, oddly pleased with itself.
A screen flickered in your periphery.
[Dear Trial Player, (Name)_
Be careful not to spill your secret to Player Sung Jinwoo,
else you may find the penalty quite costly.]
Playful, yet the warning echoed in your mind.
You had no idea what the system’s penalty might be, and you weren’t eager to find out.
“I’ve been wondering about the mysterious healer who’s been helping me. I guess I have my answer now.”
Calm, that tone of his was way too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine.
You felt your stomach drop. How much did he know? How long had he suspected—
“Don’t look so surprised,” Jinwoo continued with a chuckle, a small, dangerous tilt playing on his lips, “The system can be… revealing at times.”
The insufferable chirps like giggles in your ear following his statement made it clear—there was no escape now.
Sung Jinwoo knew, or at least, he knew enough.
“I’ll make it easy for you,” Jinwoo said, stepping closer.
You instinctively took a step back.
"Join my party."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat instead.
“What?"
“I want you to join me,”
Jinwoo repeated with the same exact tone, as if that one sentence was enough for your mind to grasp at—whatever situation this had spiral to be.
Your brain scrambled for an answer. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. “I prefer staying out of the spotlight,” you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.
Jinwoo leaned in slightly, his expression unreadable. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think I’m going to let that happen.”
The system pinged again.
[Player Sung Jinwoo has extended a party invitation.]
“I didn’t agree to—”
The screen popped up again.
[Trial Player cannot refuse this invitation.]
You blinked at the screen, then at him.
Jinwoo kept his eyes on you—glowing in that beautiful, beautiful blue—practically daring you to refuse.
You felt trapped.
___
And that was how you found yourself reluctantly dragged into Sung Jinwoo’s (formerly solo) party.
You were supposed to be a background character at most, but now you were standing beside the future strongest hunter, going on raids, facing dungeon bosses, and… spending far too much time with him outside of said raids.
You don’t know why, but outside of dungeons were even worse. Jinwoo seemed to find excuses to be around you, despite your best efforts to avoid him. Whether it was casual visits to the same cafés you frequented or crossing paths in the market, he always seemed to be there at every turn. It was unsettling how often his gaze lingered on you, as if he was trying to unravel the very essence that made you, you.
Persistent, relentless, and far too observant for your liking. Jinwoo followed you, making sure you never slipped away, sticking close like your own personal shadow.
You might have laughed at the irony, if you were not the center of his attention.
Sung Jinwoo refused to leave you alone.
You weren't sure how he'd managed to pull you into his orbit, but he had, and now you were stuck in the very story you were trying to avoid.
A soft laugh; a rare sound that made your heart skip a beat.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, My Healer.”
___
"Oh, what have I gotten myself into..." you muttered under your breath, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on you.
The system chimed in, always and without fail, far too gleeful for your liking.
[What indeed, Trial Player?
What indeed.]
You really, really, want to kick this damned system to space.
End Note:
Finally, I can sleep now...
Every related imagines I post after this WILL NOT follow any particular/chronological order.
the party walkers
self insert .✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard
words: 2.21k
next part: a rescue mission
note: hot minute, hey guys, this is my first time writing for school bus graveyard! currently, it's probably my favorite webtoon (that being said, all my other favorites are on hiatus, so, yk. that's that.) if you followed me for genshin one shots, I just wanna let you know I'm NOT gonna stop writing them, permanently at least. I haven't been able to fixate on genshin for a bit because the app is too big for my phone and trying to play on my computer kills me inside. hope you enjoy, also things prooobably aren't gonna be perfect, lol, I'm going off memory of the first chapter/s
content: self insert for sbc, uh, go read that first, I don't think I'll end up including anything (at least, not here) that needs extra trigger warnings. long term, it's a tyler x reader, maybe, idk, but regardless I don't plan on starting that for a bit.
i. a demon inside of my skin
you hadn't been in "the room where it happened", so to speak. actually, you didn't know what everyone else was dealing with for about a week after savannah, because you thought you were having batshit crazy nightmares! your hotel room was a good bit further away from everyone else's that first night, and after making a run for it into a room and barricading yourself in, you thought that would be the end of it. everyone did, didn't they?
and then, you went home. warm bed, soft blanket, box fan running in the background while you scrolled through various social media apps. it was nearing midnight, but that wasn't new for you. the early morning hours were your friend, the moon a sibling by your teenage years. not unique, sure, but that was the reality of that situation. a small shiver tickles your spine as you remember the night mare last night brought you, your fingertips ghosting the spot on your knuckle where you had banged it and broken your finger in that dream. it was even sore when you woke up. sometimes, nightmares were like that though. sometimes people woke up gasping for air after drowning in their sleep, or craving cigars after being a smoker in their dreams. sore knuckles weren't that far off.
it was like a flash; one moment, you were watching a college aged blonde talk about the type of oils she used for her long, silky, soft hair, and the next, the sky from out your window was a bleeding carmine. there was a loud silence, no wind, no rain, no box fan or phone.
then, again, you heard it. click, click, click. chatter, chatter, chatter. okay. cool. another nightmare. fun and fantastic.
shooting out of your sheets, your index finger throbbed, sparing a second and glancing at it revealed purple spots upon green bruises splotched along your hand. curling your finger inward hurt, but was possible. making a fist around your blanket, you threw it as hard as possible off of you, hoping to distract whatever was making the noise. it did not have the desired affect, and flew a couple feet before expanding and landing softly on the floor. that didn't matter, you were already on your feet and they were thudding to your door before you were aware of what was going on, scrambling on the carpet of your bedroom as you heard skitter like movements from where your eyes couldn't catch the gray, uncanny human-like figure making its way toward you on all fours. it was fast. way, way too fast. the undignified squeal you released as you yanked open your door turned into a gravelly scream of both terror and agony when you slid through, slamming the door shut before you, a blackened finger along with it. it didn't fall to the floor, but instead was hanging painfully out of your back, right under your shoulder blade. like a when a plank of wood splinters, but has enough fibers to hang off and out of the main piece and bobs back and forth. except you're not a piece of wood, and you have to not scream right now.
you feel nausea drinking its way into your chest, but adrenaline pushes it to a back burner as a need to survive pulses in your brain. grabbing a random shoe, a picture frame from off the wall, and a small ball which were left on the floor earlier, you throw them in another direction and hope it sounds enough like footsteps that when you get into the bathroom, whatever that thing is doesn't try to follow you in there.
the balls of your feet aren't much quieter than your whole foot, but they'll have to do as you nearly slam the bathroom door, stop yourself in the knick of time to edge it closed instead, and lock it. for the first time in your entire life, you internally thank your parents that you didn't get that house with the skylight in the bathroom.
now, you hold your breath. the creaking of the floors beneath your cheap carpet tells you that that thing, that monster, that whatever-it-is, is passing by. your fingers shake as you cover your mouth with one hand, the other cupping your nose as you try desperately to slow and quiet your breathing. unfortunately, the racing of your heart isn't helping, and neither is the recognition of that wound that craved up your back so nicely. again, your stomach turns. you don't have time to deal with that right now, even if you can feel blood dripping down your back and throbbing which matches your heartbeat.
click, click, thump, thump. the shadow from the light outside darkens, two fuzzy shadows before the door. silence. praying.
click, click. click. it slowly, slowly, drags its hideous feet away from the door.
you can't breathe for another minute, and the instant you do, it comes out as a heave. your eyes go wide as you scramble toward the bathtub, making it just in time to spill your guts. after emptying your stomach, you pull away with watery eyes and a raw throat, coughing a couple times. you feel a little bit better, as you usually do after throwing up, but that won't last. also, you need water, and that means looking in the mirror if you don't wanna be loud. but for right now, you just need to lay down for a moment. just breathe. you're so, so light headed. you had only just woken up, and this all felt so real. the pain in your hand and in your back. the scratchy stinging you feel up your esophagus. the exhaustion pawing under your eyes as you start to lean backward;
except, you can't, and when you try that, you only shoot straight up and nearly puke all over again. thankfully, this time, the finger actually falls out of your back.
"𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯."
you can reach the majority of the wound if you really reach. it won't be perfect, but you should be able to get it properly clean and bandaged with the first aid kit your family keeps in the bathroom. you don't really know how to clean a wound this big, though. will you need stitches? the only real way to know is to look at it, even if you aren't really ready to do so.
"𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭."
the thought came to you before you even moved from your spot on the floor. oh, yeah. that's right. you're asleep.
...
huh. most dreams feel a little more, don't know. dreamy?? if this is a dream, candy is going to start raining from the sky right now.
right now. here.
𝘯𝘰𝘸, you think, looking up at the ceiling half heartedly. alright, if this was a nightmare, it was a really weird horrible one. and also, you'd rather not push your luck at this point. so, mirror it is. ignoring the pit of panic welling in your chest, you push yourself to your feet, and tip toe to the kitchen sink. you stare at the faucet, and then force your eyes upward. your hair is frazzled, and there are white specks along the corners of your mouth. and then, you turn around. your jaw tightens when you see the open wound, your nightshirt torn open and revealing tattered, aggressive flesh beneath it. that thing probably cut you to the bone. hopefully, because there is in fact a bone there, it didn't hit any organs. you can breathe fine, so your lung didn't seem all too punctured. it's just ugly. ugly and painful.
cleaning it is the first step, and you're just thankful that despite the fact that you stupidly, stupidly, stupidly dumped isopropyl alcohol onto it in hopes of doing so (for a second, before the burning, you felt a little uncomfortable. and then it hit, you nearly cracked your tooth from biting down so hard), it's over with.
a week later, you find yourself in class, rubbing sleepiness from your eyes. so, long story short, that wasn't a dream, and something is horribly wrong. you waking up to a long scab running down your shoulder blade told you that much. and things were about to get a lot worse. in the real world, that is.
"sir, please. they do literally nothing. they just sit there all spaced out, rubbing their eyes. it's like they aren't even trying for this project!" brandy, your classmate begs in a hushed tone. as annoying as the brunette could be at times, she wasn't wrong. a pang in your chest as you think of possibly making it so that the other members of your group protect fail because you are too tired to do your part. god, sorry brenda, you're too busy trying to huddle up in a bathroom all night and take care of a wound that isn't healing for some reason, all while praying that the thing that chased you in there and will probably kill you, doesn't murder you. but she's still not wrong. and it isn't like she knows that, because you have something seriously wrong with you. it's not her fault, and she shouldn't have to pay for you being crazy.
"mr. thomas," you quietly call, rubbing your elbow uncomfortably as you stare at the floor. you can see brandy pause from the corner of your eye, and you think there's even a sorry expression on her face. even if she was annoying, she clearly hadn't thought you heard that. and she had a right to be upset.
"I would like to change groups, if, um, possible."
there's a pause, and from your peripheral view, you can see your teacher and classmate motioning at each other, her probably trying to convince him to let you do so. a small thump, and then a sigh. "alright. I'm going to put you with ashlyn's group. "
as a redhead from across the room pops up and looks around, mr. thomas looks through a few pieces of paper, crossing something off with his pen. he didn't say it out loud, and frankly, he didn't have to. that was the group in the class that was also failing, so, you being in it wouldn't have much of an impact anyway. at least you wouldn't sink the whole ship all by yourself. was it smart, as a teacher? no. he probably should have put you with a tutor or something. looking up at mr. thomas as you nod and collect your things from your desk reveals an, in fact, apologetic eyed brandy. she mouths a "thank you", and you nod in return. you would drag your chair to their little group later, first, you should go introduce yourself, and hope they don't kick you out.
the bright blonde of the group catches you with his eyes before anyone else. you can hear him say something, and the rest of them stop talking and turn to look at you as you awkwardly walk over. their eyes are so piercing, it's making you uncomfortable.
"can we help you?" a brunette asks, tilting her head up to look at you. her tone carries no malice, just curiosity. makes you feel a little bit better.
"I'm so sorry to ask this, if you guys don't want me in your project I'll go ask if I can be alone or join another group or something, it's not a big deal. I'm having issues with my part of the project, and it's affecting everyone else's work in my group. so they were wondering if I could join in with you guys."
they all share a really weird look with each other, like they're talking telepathically or something. a tense moment passes, and two members speak up at the same time.
"yeah sure lol."
"fuck no."
"tyler! be nice! besides, we probably need someone who actually knows what's going on in this class!"
"didn't she just say she was having issues with her work? it's not like she's going to add much."
"to be fair, I don't think any of us are doing all too great on the work anyway."
you feel the need to clarify, mainly to get this over with. "I'm not really having trouble with the work. I'm just not doing it. I'm having sleeping issues, again, not a big deal if you don't want me to join."
they all stop, and look at you again. the redheaded one narrows her eyes, letting the braid she was messing with fall to her lap. her and the boy next to the brunette girl who asked you a question - actually, now that you're up close and looking at him, that looks like one of the boys on the baseball team. didn't she call him tyler? like tyler hernandez? huh. you didn't even realize you guys shared this class.
"what kind of nightmares have you been having?" the blonde asks, looking at who you're starting to assume is ashlyn. they have a staring contest of sorts while you start to answer. "oh, just weird ones. like, ones with monsters... and stuff..."
you didn't say anything about nightmares.
he looks at you again, a cat like grin on his face. "I think you should sit down. "
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
next part: a rescue mission
the sakura haruno ultimate fic list : a masterlist
: a collection of fic rec lists centered around sakura haruno from naruto.
this list was mostly for me personally, sakura happens to be my favourite character and so i of course looked high and low for fics focused on her. here are some of the tumblr lists ive been able to find!
sakura haruno fics (ao3) - by @p-st
-- a really good collection of fics, best recs ever, a goldmine!!
2. have some bamf sakura fics because god knows canon doesn't do her justice and this girl needs some more love - by @tciddaemina
3. good BAMF!Sakura fics - by @mixelation
4. sakura haruno fanfic rec list. - by @shakasa
-- heads up for many inclusions of fics with ships such as kakasaku, itasaku, and shisaku (which i personally avoid) on this list
5. general list (not organized, not updated, just some of my favs),
third war contonued/sakura sent to war prematurely,
civillian discrimination/clan politics,
ANBU AU,
captured on a mission/mission gone wrong,
time travel au’s,
-- warning, certain ships included (minasaku, madasaku, shisaku, kakasaku, etc)
and kid/academy/pre-genin sakura - all by @stu-dyingstudent
i havent read all of the fics on all of these lists but they are amazing starting points and just recs in general so hats off to all of the list writers! if you've read to this point and would like any other fic recs, or would just like to chat about sakura or naruto as a whole w me then feel free to go to my ask page or comment :)
LAST UPDATED: [09/12/2024]
