L0diluvs - Star Lost - Tumblr Blog

fwb to lovers where he’s actually a sweetheart & ur a bit of a mess. after giving u the greatest dick of your life, you decide to reciprocate his kindness by making him breakfast - specifically, eggs.

except you’re a horrible cook in the morning & he’s too nice (and whipped for you) to say anything bad. you cook him scrambled eggs and there are shells in them (“it’s ok, baby. i like the crunch!” he tells you), you try to make him an omelette and it’s all weird and runny and kinda scrambled actually (“yum! you made the omelette easier to eat. goes down easier this way. speaking of going down on someone…”), you do sunny side up eggs and they’re still raw (“extra protein this way, right?”), and throughout this whole ordeal, the two of you realize this is oddly intimate. sharing a (somewhat horribly cooked) breakfast together. and at the very end of the fic, you’re cooking eggs for breakfast again and your kids are gobbling it up + your husband, your former fwb, has a crinkle around his eyes when he smiles and tells them, “yknow, your mom used to cook me eggs in the morning all the time.” he goes on to talk abt the shells in his eggs, the raw eggs, all of it. the kids are making faces and ask him what’d he do about it.

“i married her, obviously. she couldn’t get it right for a while, but i could tell she made it with love every single time. i wasn’t lying when i told her they tasted great.”

doodles after watching the movie! 🐱🐦‍⬛

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

— the lover. 

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. His king-sized bed lay empty, the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “Do you want to open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Overwhelmed with appreciation, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It surprised you to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, babydoll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man that you wished to spend the eve of your birthday with. This alone was a perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your pussy lips, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts, along with moving your tongue in circles around his shaft. Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the man you so adored. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth too sore and numb at that point. 

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 

“Mmh… I want you.” 

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 

“Haaah!” 

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 

This was the most erotic you had been with him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!” 

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!” 

“Faster?” 

“S-Sylus!” 

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him a top sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 

“You shouldn’t.”

~~

— the lady. 

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus, dressed in his signature dark attire, leaned against a plush booth in the corner, the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes, while you, draped in a red form-fitting, revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze betrayed a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. His arsenal of weapons could destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You settled next to him, your quiet presence commanding attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze. “Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you walked towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the gun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with blood. 

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men tries to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 

“Roger that, boss.” 

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 

Like a good girl, for him. Always. 

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

~~

— the enemy. 

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone? 

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 

Why? Why can’t it be me? 

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 

~~

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours, a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, his words a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back, the distance between you a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you, the full reality of your situation making it hard to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, madness gleaming in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed, a wild, almost feral sound. “Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, the tendrils of his black-red mist swirling around you, crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song lmao HELP i am down bad for this man like there’s no saving me

— the lover. 

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing. 

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort. 

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him. 

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you. 

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. His king-sized bed lay empty, the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.” 

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “Do you want to open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Overwhelmed with appreciation, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It surprised you to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?” 

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, babydoll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.” 

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man that you wished to spend the eve of your birthday with. This alone was a perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.” 

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your pussy lips, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.” 

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.” 

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.” 

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses. 

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.” 

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts, along with moving your tongue in circles around his shaft. Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the man you so adored. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth too sore and numb at that point. 

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free. 

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.” 

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over. 

“Mmh… I want you.” 

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise. 

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds. 

“Haaah!” 

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.” 

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?” 

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.” 

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you. 

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.” 

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more. 

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange. 

This was the most erotic you had been with him. 

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.” 

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.” 

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!” 

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!” 

“Faster?” 

“S-Sylus!” 

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.” 

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him a top sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle. 

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.” 

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her. 

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead. 

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were. 

“You shouldn’t.”

~~

— the lady. 

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus, dressed in his signature dark attire, leaned against a plush booth in the corner, the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes, while you, draped in a red form-fitting, revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you. 

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze betrayed a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. His arsenal of weapons could destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You settled next to him, your quiet presence commanding attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze. “Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head. 

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you walked towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the gun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with blood. 

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood. 

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion. 

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men tries to come in, kill them with no mercy.” 

“Roger that, boss.” 

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you. 

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!” 

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line. 

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?” 

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you. 

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.” 

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.” 

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying. 

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…” 

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen. 

Like a good girl, for him. Always. 

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?” 

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms. 

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly. 

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.” 

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—” 

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.” 

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?” 

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub. 

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

~~

— the enemy. 

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal. 

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way. 

“Caw! Caw!” 

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you? 

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone? 

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?” 

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.” 

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy. 

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.” 

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.” 

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside. 

Why? Why can’t it be me? 

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you. 

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him. 

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!” 

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.  

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach. 

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go? 

~~

— the sinner.

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath. 

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked. 

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours, a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, his words a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back, the distance between you a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you, the full reality of your situation making it hard to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, madness gleaming in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed, a wild, almost feral sound. “Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, the tendrils of his black-red mist swirling around you, crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.” 

LEVI ACKERMAN X READER FIC RECS

Multichapter

— most of these fics are 18+ so minors, go away shoo

✱ Crossing the Line by ponderingapollo ongoing

canonverse

you’re distracted so ur captain confronts u with a very sexy and spicy solution 👀

✱ Kiss It Better by darlingheichou ongoing

modern au

mutual pining

levi is bad at feelings but he gets over it v cute so far

✱ Silver Soul by oi_levi ongoing

in which you and levi navigate through life post war! u and levi own a cute lil tea shop

i have nothing to say this fic has me on chokehold

post canon

✱ Hey Hemingway by oi_levi ongoing

hs and university au, levi is a football player it’s only started but it’s already so fucking good

✱ Percolate by heichoe ongoing

coffee shop au, college au

enemies to lovers

i am on my knees for this fic

if you’re not reading this then idk what you’re doing

✱ Moon River by lacheri ongoing

…..french sexy levi…you know it already

coworkers au

levi is so hot here wtf

i love this series, it’s really beautifully written

✱ Superior series by wikelia ongoing

canonverse, reader is a badass - will not take shit from levi

enemies to lovers!!!¡

hoT LEVI idk why but astrid writes him so hot

✱ No Funny Business by wellitcouldbeworse completed

reader and levi one night stand, turns out levi is reader’s boss at her new job

sweet sweet smut 😌

my fave trope: fwb to lovers

✱ Spite by wellitcouldbeworse completed

reader has amnesia and completely forgets everything but levi helps her remember

Oneshots

✱ already always almost do by heich0e

levi is your big brother erwin’s bestie

levi is ur childhood crush

implied age gap but not that big

liv if you see this part 2 pls

✱ happy birthday, i love you by sakurashell

hella cute and fluffy

✱ Enchanted by xokiddo

this is hella short BUT painfully sweet

i read this thrice i think

✱ Dante’s Inferno by alrightberries

fluff

roomies and bestfriend!levi

✱ Just Like Heaven by PonderingApollo

angst to fluff

band au

✱ Iced Tea by miekasa

super fluffy, one of my fave comfort fics

college au

this is my only contribution probably to the snk or specifically levi fandom lmao so anyway here are my fave reader insert fics and one i’m currently reading!

editing this as i go, i’ll add more stuff one of these days

levi ackerman // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

you’re drunk and ridiculous (and he can’t trust you with anyone else)

gestures

no funny business

as the spark dies

wild card

dust, diamonds

dirty money

nobody's fault but mine

traditions

time

the wife

crush

percolate

petals inked in red

spite

one million to one

power trip

ghost

silent treatment

love hate me

as the world caves in

two faced

bad romance

garden of tulips

plans

and when i see you smile, the clouds will clear

ghostly greetings

safe haven

panacea

sayonara

“may i?”

his wounded heart beats for one

beneath the pages

respite on black waters

galaxies past

overwhelming

↳ The Spiral into doubt- Haikyuu! x fem!reader

summary - you have a bad practice session and you come home in a bad mood, mind buzzing with self-deprecating thoughts.

warnings - angst, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, anxiety attack

author's note: a little self-indulgent fic 'cause i had a bad day at volleyball practice. and ended up with a bloody nose:/

this is for all my athelete girlies who had a bad day at practice. it sucks, i know. but the world doesn't end because of one bad day. you are good enough. <33

main masterlist !

the coach's decision to bench you during the previous match had hit you like a punch to the gut. you had stood on the sidelines, watching the game unfold without you, your mind swimming with self-doubts and insecurities.

the coach's words echoed in your head:

"what has gotten into you?!"

"you just weren't giving us what we needed then,"

the words stung, and you couldn't shake off the sense of worthlessness. you had watched your teammates play, and every mistake they made or point they lost had only fueled your doubts.

the feeling of not being good enough intensified, your confidence crumbling with each passing moment.

you felt your knee begin to bounce, worry bubbling within you. your breath coming out in low gasps and exhales.

you felt utterly worthless as if you didn't deserve to be on the team. the weight of your own failures and inadequacies seemed to pile up on you, pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe.

you couldn't help but believe that you had let everyone down, that you weren't cut out for this, and that everyone could see it.

you pressed down at your chest, inhaling and exhaling, trying to get your anxiety in check. you could feel your pulse increasing, a steady rise in thumping. sweat rolled down your temple, making its way down your trembling face.

the match was a tough one, with you making a series of costly mistakes that led to a 13-25 defeat.

it was a mere practice match, but that didn't make the loss any less brutal.

as you stood by the bench, watching the coach and your teammates discussing the strategy for the next match, you couldn't help but feel like you didn't deserve to be there.

your breathing became more shallow, and you wrung your hands at your sides, shaking them to drive the tension out of your body.

every failed play, every missed shot, every wrong decision replayed in your mind like a broken record.

for now, your pulse had slowed from the initial panic, but a new kind of pressure seemed to take its place.

your heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly, like a vice gripped it with relentless force. each breath felt labored, as though your chest was filled with a heavy weight that threatened to crush you.

you questioned your abilities and your place on the team, wondering if you were really up for the position.

you trudged into the apartment after the match, feeling utterly defeated.

"there's my girl!" your boyfriend greeted you with a warm smile, "how did the match go?"

but your mood was so low that you could only manage a brief, half-hearted hug and a muttered greeting, "hi. was okay,"

he frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, his concern deepening when you didn't kiss him in greeting.

you made a beeline for the bedroom, shutting the door behind you and collapsing onto the bed.

the solitude of the room allowed your thoughts to run wild, as doubts and insecurities threatened to drown you.

you were consumed with a sense of failure and the weight of disappointment that came right with it.

i'm so bad at this game

maybe i should quit

my coach must think i suck

the team is better off without me-

you sat up slowly, facing the full-length mirror on the side of the room.

your eyes raked over the jersey you were wearing, down to the number on it.

your vision blurred and you swiped at them angrily.

angry at your inability to perform to your fullest potential.

angry at your-fucking pathetic-self

"y/n," he came into the room and kneeled in front of you. he had an idea of what may have happened and reached your side at once.

you turned away, not wanting to be seen in this sorry state. weak and fragile.

what good am i for him anyway if I'm so broken?

you pushed away that thought, feeling your throat close up, "i don't wanna talk about it,"

everything annoyed you at this point. the air of failure and agony around you, the rapid beating of your merciless heart, low breaths that came out as huffs, the jersey number you wore with utmost humiliation.

he held your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheekbone, "hug or talk?"

it was a common phrase that you both used in a severe case of bad days.

"neither," you mumbled, not yet meeting his eyes.

he knew it meant you were in desperate need of a hug. you were just too prideful to ask for it.

"what is it, love? is it something i can help with?" he prodded, "is it the game?"

you stilled, pursing your lips, confirming your boyfriend's statement.

"it was so so bad. the worst by far. i don't know what the fuck i was doing. i was so shit-faced," you rambled, "i feel useless. I'm so behind others. maybe i should just quit, instead of making a fool of myself," you covered your face with your palms, fingers digging into your teary eyes.

his heart ached as he saw your lips tremble. he could see the doubt and vulnerability in your eyes, and it only served to strengthen his determination to make you believe him.

"hey, listen to me. it's okay to be disappointed about the game. but you didn't mess up. you did your best, and that's all that matters. everyone makes mistakes, and it's part of the game. you can't blame yourself for everything, okay?"

you shook your head slowly in denial, jaw ticking as you struggled to hold yourself together.

his heart broke at your devastated condition, "baby, don't do this to yourself. i know you're upset and probably blaming yourself for what happened, but you have to understand that it's not all your fault. it's a team sport, and everyone makes mistakes. you can't dwell on it and beat yourself up over it. that's not going to help anything,"

"i could've helped it!" you snapped, "i could've helped it if i-i-," you sputtered, searching for the right words, "if i wasn't such a fucking loser," you added the last bit in a shaky voice and the dam broke.

he rested his forehead against yours in comfort, watching the way tears cascaded down your cheeks, "that's not true. don't talk about yourself like that. you're not a loser. you're a determined and talented athlete. you just had a bad game, that's all. one day doesn't define you as a person or as a player. you work hard, and i know you'll do better next time,"

"i feel like i've lost myself," you mumbled weakly.

despite hearing the defeated tone in your voice, he noticed your bouncing knee, the rapid breathing, the rage- oh my god

"baby, i need you to take deep breaths for me, okay? i'm pretty sure you're experiencing an anxiety attack,"

"i have for the past 3 hours," you sniffled, knowing it very well. you screwed your eyes shut and forcing more hot tears down your cheeks, "i can't stop it. it won't stop. it hurts too much but-" you gasped for air, "i deserve all this pain don't i?"

"shh, shh," he sat on the bed next to you, pulling you onto his side and wrapping his arms around you.

his heart ached when you whimpered and he rested his chin on the top of your head. he could feel the tension and self-doubt radiating off of you, wanting nothing more to soothe your worries.

"no you don't deserve it," he held you tighter, feeling you sob silently against his chest, "don't carry this around," he peppered kisses on your hair, holding you against his large frame, "you're not alone, mkay?"

"i don't even know why i'm crying," you sniffled, "god, i need to get a grip,"

"no, it's okay. let it out. nothing wrong in that, you don't need to justify your emotions. i'll hold you through it,"

he held you tighter as you sobbed, his hand rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles.

he didn't say anything, just let you cry and release your emotions, his body serving as a source of comfort and support.

he talked you through it, whispering into your ear until you calmed from your anxiety peak.

"that's it. you're dooing so well. give me deep breaths, just like that. mm good girl," he whispered, his voice soft. "it's okay. just let it out. i'm here. i'm not going anywhere,"

he reached up a hand to wipe away the tear, his touch gentle and tender, "what do you say i draw you a bath, huh?"

"will u join me?" you looked up at him with hopeful eyes, red from all the waterworks.

"i want you to run me over with a car, if i ever say no to that question, ever," he stated in a monotone voice, causing you to let out a teary chuckle.

and so you and your lover were relaxing in the bathtub, surrounded by a warm, comforting glow of candlelight. the soothing heat of the water was helping to loosen your tense muscles, and the bubble-filled surface created a private, intimate space for the two of you.

as you sat nestled between his legs with your back to his chest, he listened quietly, his eyes fixed on you as you vented about your frustrations with the recent game.

he didn't interrupt, but rather offered a sympathetic nod or gentle touch, letting you speak your mind and release your pent-up stress.

"-and then the next thing i knew, i got benched," you shrugged weakly, biting your lip in thought.

he kissed your hair and you eaned back into his body, "s'okay, darling," he soothed.

you huffed in annoyance, waving your hand through the water.

He spoke gently, his voice soft and reassuring in the quiet intimacy of the bathtub. "y/n, you're incredible. I've watched you play and you become possessed by the game, completely pouring your passion into it. and i admire it. how much heart and soul you put into every game. I'm proud of you,"

his words caught you off guard, feeling how much it touched you. no one has ever told you that. and it felt foreign.

like you didn't deserve to hear it.

you hummed in response, grateful that he couldn't see the vulnerable expression on your face.

but he knew you well, and he recognized the underlying emotions behind your subtle reactions.

he gently tilted your head over your shoulder, looking at you intently. "look at me," he said, his voice firm but caring.

as you met his gaze, he repeated his words with a sincerity that resonated deep within your soul. "i'm proud of you," he said again, his voice filled with conviction.

as you processed his words, you felt a mixture of emotions stirring within you. you nodded, managing a weak smile, but the weight of his words and the raw vulnerability they stirred up made you inhale sharply.

it felt like he was touching upon something deep within you, something fragile yet beautiful.

gently, he shifted your position so that you were now straddling him in the water, creating a soft, rippling barrier in the warm, candlelit bath.

he caressed your thigh under the water, the contact sending shivers down your spine. his other hand held your chin, keeping your gaze locked on him, "I am proud of you," he repeated, the truth of his words reflected in his steady eyes.

you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. the variety of emotions building within you were almost too much to contain.

he pulled you closer, his arms enveloping you in a tight, loving hug, and pressed his lips to yours in a firm kiss.

you reciprocated the action, resting your hand on the side of his face. the bubbles and water were like a soft, warm cocoon around you both.

he hugged you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. he held you close, anchoring you in the moment with his love.

the water lapped around you both, creating a gentle, lulling rhythm. he trailed his lips down your jaw, cheek and to the column of your neck.

"but i'm not just talking about your skills," he continued, his voice growing softer as he spoke. "i'm proud of the person you are. you're strong, determined, and fiercely passionate. you never give up, no matter how tough things get." his words hung in the air, filling the quiet space with a sense of warmth and reassurance.

you could feel yourself starting to relax in his arms, the weight of his words and their implication slowly seeping into your heart.

you leaned forward and rested your forehead against his, letting his words into your hurting heart.

his thumb traced lazy patterns on your back and his other hand gently massaged your thigh, the contact creating a trail of sparks that raced under your skin.

he let the moment linger, giving you time to process the emotions his words had stirred up. the water continued to ripple gently around you as if echoing the turbulence within you.

"you're amazing," he finally said, breaking the silence, "amazing, and worthy, and strong. and i am proud of you for that. always,"

you felt a lump forming in your throat again, the raw honesty in his voice almost too much to bear.

but you also felt a strange sense of relief, as if his words were like a balm to the bruised parts of your soul.

the tears started flowing again, but this time they were different. they were born out of a mixture of gratitude, love, and a quiet acceptance of the truth in his words.

he held you through it, not saying anything else, but just being there for you.

and that was all you needed.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

— SUGUWARA, DAICHI, KUROO, ASAHI, IWAIZUMI, OIKAWA, IWAIZUMI, AKAASHI

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

I need Suna rintaro to be stupid fucking sensitive.

I need him to be an absolute wreck anytime you do anything to him, just because his body is so reactive, so desperate for your touch that the smallest affection has him into a putty.

Drag your nails over his arms? He’s whining softly. Whispering in his ear? He sinks his teeth into his lip. Sponging kisses against his jaw? He angles his head shamelessly.

There’s something you do to him, there’s something about your mere existence that has him excited to no end, always ready for your intoxicating touch that has him reeling for more.

Even now, with his back pressed to your chest and your nails softly drawing over the flesh of his shoulders, he feels a pleasured trail glide up and down his spine.

He says nothing, merely melting into your touch and letting his eyes flutter close and body curl deeper against you.

But then your touch slithers down and over his abs, which tighten under your warm fingers.

“Do not,” he snarls, albeit unthreatening.

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I’m just giving my boyfriend affection.” Your nails get caught on the rim of his navel, and he feels his cock twitch. “If you can’t handle it, that’s on you.”

"You know I can't,” he whimpers as his hips chase an invisible touch, circling slightly as he looks up at you with betrayed eyes. A pressure broils in the pit of his stomach, tightening softly as your nails tease the softness of his happy trail, fingers tracing the small, thin hairs. He arches his back, pressing his shoulders against your chest, but your gentle touch still follows.

If anything, you adjust yourself to sit up straighter, and your free hand slinks down his chest to play with his nipple, and he squeezes his thighs tight.

“Awww,” you coo, and if looks could kill, you’d be dead and slumped over him. “I just love loving on my sensitive boy.”

“Don’t f-ha!- fhuuuucking, don’t call me that,” he grumbles through gritted teeth, and that only earns him a pinch of his nipple and a small tickle on his stomach.

It’s maddening, and he cries out and shrinks at the sensation.

“Behave,” you snarl. “Talk less, and feel good, baby.”

"I don't wanna come like this," he pleads. Not right now, not in his sweatpants, not under absolutely no touch to the manhood contained in his boxers and far as possible from having a reaction by your touch, not when you’re enjoying this so much it’s concerning, not now not now not now-

“You’re just too sensitive,” you sigh dramatically. Your hands gently press into the dip of his hips, making him whine at the tickly, yet relaxing sensation.

His jaw slacks to let a shuddery moan out.

“Please,” he huffs, rutting his hips upwards. His thighs are tight together, desperate to edge him to a high that you put him on. “Fuck- please, keep going-“

“I’m not even going to touch your cock and you’re going to come just like this?”

And he is. He is, he fucking is, he’s gonna paint the inside of his sweatpants like a damn virgin, all from you scratching at his happy trail and drawing your nails over the ridges of his abs. He’s going to come, come so hard he sees stars and fuck you for fucking doing this to him.

You stop.

Your hand stills, fingers stop their trailing and slowly slip over his hip, then to his chin where you pull him into a kiss. He whines and chases you into the kiss, tongue trying to hook you in deeper and coerce you into giving him more attention.

“Gonna have to condition you hate this,” you coo, sinking your teeth into the meat of his lip. “How else am I supposed to love on my man if he’s gonna paint the inside of his shorts every time?”

with a whine and a grunt of agony, he gently pulls back, burrowing into your neck to hide the embarrassment of being so close to the edge of an orgasm from sheerly being touched by the heavenly fingers adorning your body that have him in a tizzy more than enough times.

"I cant stand you," he grumbles.

"Love you too, my sensitive boy."

"Shut up!"

Gojo and Choso, referenced from Ye Hao's "Heat Stroke" photoshoot!

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

This tweet reminded me of this one panel from the manga

your touch is all around me, i can't let you go

—kenji sato

kenji sato & physical therapist!reader

content warnings: fem!reader, friends to lovers, reader calls kenji a whore (i SWEAR THATS THEIR DYNAMIC PLEASE BELIEVE ME)

wc: 2.6k

it's common practice for athletes to have a physical therapist by their side, just in case. though for ken, you were more of a friend; being a licensed physical therapist was just an added bonus. knowing him since high school and watching him grow up into the amazing player he is today, it's safe to say ken went to you a lot. especially when he got hurt. you couldn't say too much though, he let you practice on him while you were busy getting your license and jobs wouldn't take you due to a lack of experience. but kenji? he always believed in you, even bringing you to japan with him, saying "i'd rather have a therapist i'm comfortable with." he rented out a cozy two bedroom apartment for you, making sure that it wasn't far from the clinic you'd be working at once you settled. but that's the thing, he rarely visited the clinic, only coming around to see if you were in that day. ken definitely prefers at home visits for no specific reason. (he loves loves loves the closeness and familiarity you have with each other).

a knock at your door took you from the comfort of your room. shuffling out in the dress you had on, the heels that matched so perfectly with it clacked on the hardwood floor. opening the door and seeing kenji, you immediately closed it shut. taking a deep breath, you reopened it, feigning innocence. "oh hey! didn't see you there!" ken deadpanned, face immediately changing once he took in your figure, "who're you getting all prettied up for?" shoving himself through the door, ken's eyes dragged painfully slow over your body, "could it be…, me?" "i'm gonna slap that stupid smirk off your face." "you know i'd like that." "ugh! whatever!" you closed the door, locking it. "if you're here for a consultation, i regret to inform you that i'm not feeling up to it, ken." "oh. so, i can't visit my best friend when i feel like it? darling, you hurt me…"

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "don't you have better things to do than annoy me, kenji?" kenji chuckled, taking a step closer. "not really. besides, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't check up on you?" "the one who needs checking up on is you," you huffed, turning away from him and heading back to your room. kenji followed, his footsteps echoing yours. "oh, come on. i bring some excitement into your life, admit it." you glanced over your shoulder at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. "more like a headache." "same thing," kenji shrugged, leaning against the doorframe of your room as you stepped inside. "why are you really here?" you asked, smoothing down your dress and looking in the mirror. "you never just 'drop by'." "maybe i missed you," he said, his tone softer. "we haven't hung out in a while." you paused, meeting his gaze in the mirror. there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "you could've called, like you usually do." kenji smiled, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to you. "yeah, but then i wouldn't have gotten to see you in that dress." he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "you look stunning, by the way." your cheeks flushed, and you quickly looked away. "thanks. it's nothing special." "it's special to me," he said softly, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "so, what do you say? want to hang out for a bit?" you stared at yourself in the mirror, considering his offer. "fine. but only if you promise not to be a pain." kenji grinned. "no promises."

"hi [name], could you come over? uhh, bring your med kit too. thanks! see you soon!" ken got off the phone before you could even say hello. you called him back after exiting your state of shock, "let's try that again." "please don't make me." kenji groaned before choosing his next words carefully, even though he knew deep down that you would come anyway. "hey sweetheart. do you think you could come over with your med kit? i would pick you up with my bike but i kinda broke my arm so…" "you what—?!" "yeah…, anyways! bring some pajamas! you're staying over. and we're baking tonight!" "with what able arm??"

you finished applying the stockinette, handing a roll of padding to ken so that he could make himself useful while you scolded him, "i swear you get injured so much, i wouldn't be surprised if you were ultraman or something." after winding the padding around his arm, you took the roll back, stopping your motions when you realized, he never responded. you looked at ken, only to find him already looking at you, a dejected look on his face. "you're fucking joking."

"so you're telling me that ever since we landed here, you've been saving japan?" you wheeled your suitcases into the living area, crossing your legs as you sat on the couch. "well it's really not a big deal. a little saving my team here, saving japan over there. what's all the stuff for?" ken motioned to your luggage with the drink in his hand, the necklace he always kept on him now sitting against his bare upper body. getting up, you walked to his room, picking up a shirt and throwing it at him. "put that on." watching kenji struggle to complete your request, you thought out loud, "you know it all makes sense now. the unexplained mystery injuries, why you wouldn't pick up my late night calls when there was a kaiju attack— if you need help just say that." ken kept quiet, looking at you with those eyes of his. you hated how you could never resist them. reaching over to him, you put the shirt on for him, patting his chest. "what would you do without me, hm?" staring into your eyes, kenji gulped loudly, feeling his face heat up like a teenage boy in love. "thank you, miss physical therapist." well, the in love part is right. "so…, you're moving in?" ken cleared his throat, glancing at your suitcases. "just staying until your arm is fully functioning again, so for…" your eyes scan over his wrapped arm, "six months?" kenji's eyes widened. "six months? are you serious?"

"yeah," you replied, smiling. "you need proper care, and i'm the best person for the job."

every morning started with you helping kenji out of bed. he tried to be independent, but you insisted on being there for him. "come on, ultraman, let me help you," you teased as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head. he sighed but smiled. "shut up. you just like telling me what to do."

"and you just like making things difficult," you retorted, carefully sliding his casted arm through the sleeve. "there. all set."

breakfast became a ritual of its own. you prepared his meals, ensuring they were easy for him to manage with one hand. sometimes, you even fed him when he was too stubborn to ask for help. "open up," you said, holding a spoonful of cereal to his lips. kenji chuckled but complied. "i could get used to this."

"don't get too comfortable," you warned playfully. "this is just until your arm heals."

the first few months were over and it was safe to take of kenji's cast. not long after, you settled into a routine with kenji. each morning, you helped him with his exercises, ensuring his recovery was progressing well.

"all right, let's do the stretches," you said one morning, guiding his arm gently. kenji winced but followed your instructions. "you really enjoy bossing me around, don't you?" "only because you're such a terrible patient," you teased, your fingers brushing against his skin. kenji's eyes met yours, a playful glint in them. "maybe i just like the recognition." you rolled your eyes. "what an attention whore."

one evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch, watching a movie with kenji. his arm was propped up with pillows, and he looked more relaxed than you had seen him in a while. "thanks for staying with me," kenji said softly, his gaze fixed on the screen. "i don't think i would've managed without you." you turned to him, "you would've been fine, kenji. you're stronger than you think. you're literally ultraman." kenji laughed at your comment and shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. "no, really. you've been amazing. i… i don't know how to thank you." "you don't have to," you whispered, leaning in slightly. "just get better." kenji's hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "i will. for you." your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. then, slowly, kenji leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss.

the next morning, you both tried to act as if nothing had changed, but the air between you was charged with a new, unspoken tension. "okay, let's try the resistance band today," you said, your voice a bit shaky. kenji nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "sure. let's do it." as you guided him through the exercises, your hands lingering a little longer than necessary, you couldn't help but wonder how long you could keep pretending that nothing had changed between you.

the high school gym was dimly lit, the only sounds being the soft echoes of your footsteps on the polished floor and the distant hum of the vending machines. you and kenji had stayed late, practicing for the upcoming sports event. he was a star athlete even back then, and you were his number one supporter. "you really should take it easy," you said, handing him a towel as he sat down on the bleachers, panting slightly. kenji grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "you worry too much. i'm fine." you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "yeah, well, someone has to keep you in check." he chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "thanks for sticking around, sweetheart. it means a lot." "of course," you replied, sitting down next to him. "what are friends for?" kenji turned to you, his expression suddenly serious. "yeah, friends…" there was a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. you looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes, seemed to draw you in. "kenji, i—" you started, but your words were cut off as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. for a moment, time stood still. the world outside the gym faded away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, intimate space. his hand found its way to your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm. you melted into the kiss, your heart racing as you wrapped your arms around him. when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. kenji's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he whispered, "i've wanted to do that for so long."

kenji woke with a start, the memory of the kiss still vivid, his heart pounding. he laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the emotions that had resurfaced. the feelings he had pushed aside for years were now impossible to ignore.

the house buzzed with activity as you prepared for the small celebration. you wanted everything to be perfect for him. you moved around the kitchen, arranging snacks and drinks, a smile on your face as you thought about how far he had come in his recovery. kenji watched you from the doorway, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. he knew he had to confront the feelings that had been bubbling up ever since you two met. taking a deep breath, he stepped into the kitchen. "hey," he called softly. you looked up, smiling brightly. "hey! just in time. can you help me with these decorations?" kenji nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. as you handed him a string of lights, he couldn't hold back any longer. "so just like that. you're forgetting about us?" he asked, his voice low and serious. you froze, the lights slipping from your fingers. "what are you on about now?" he stepped closer, his gaze intense. "that kiss. back in high school. it meant something, didn't it?"

"there was never an 'us', kenji," you replied, your voice steady but your eyes betraying your uncertainty. kenji moved even closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "don't lie to me. don't pretend like we never had something. like we don't have something right now." your back hit the nearby wall, and you felt trapped by the intensity of his words and the closeness of his body. "i don't know what you're talking about…" you stammered, hands fiddling with themselves. "yes, you do," he whispered, his hand resting gently on your arm. "that kiss, it wasn't just a moment. it was the start of something. and everything we've shared since then—don't tell me you don't feel it too." you swallowed hard, your heart racing. the memories, the lingering touches, the stolen glances—they all flooded back. "kenji, i…" he moved even closer, his breath warm against your skin. your hands pushed against your best friend's chest. "just tell me the truth, baby. do you feel it too?"

"you want the truth? fine." you took a deep breath, your eyes locked on his. "the truth is, i've never stopped feeling it. not since that kiss in high school, not since your out of the blue visits to do stupid shit, not since our late night calls, not since i started helping you heal. every touch, every glance, it all means something to me." you pushed through his cage, walking over to the kitchen island to continue setting up for the mini celebration.  kenji's eyes widened in surprise and relief, but you couldn't stay there, wrapped in the intensity of the moment. you pushed through his cage, walking over to the kitchen island to continue setting up for the mini celebration. your hands shook slightly as you arranged the decorations, trying to focus on anything but the whirlwind of emotions inside you. ken watched you for a moment, processing your words. then he followed, his presence a comforting warmth behind you. his hands caressed your shoulders, his touch gentle yet firm. "so how about it, babe? go on a date with me?" you chuckled softly, trying to mask the tremor in your voice. "i'm a busy woman. you'd have to pick a day i'm free." kenji leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "you got it, princess. you know i'd wait forever for you." you turned your head slightly, catching his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. "yeah i know, you'd be a fool not to." he grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "then call me a fool, because i've been waiting a long time." you sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection. "just don't keep me waiting forever, okay?" kenji's smile widened, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and adoration.

"i won't. i promise." "you make a lot of promises ken, makes me wonder if you can keep up with them all." "oh you wound me so~" "need another consultation for that?"

not gon hold yall... writing this tired me out.... i shouldve done hcs or a drabble but i hope you all liked it still!!!

taglist <3

@mochminnie @despacito-uwu16 @yellowheartz @ririkacchi @ifharbingerbad--whyhot

@reit0o @heavenlyraindrops @lovingyeet @stickypaperstarlight @raee-dreeaaamz

@rreasonablydumbb @bandolls @gingersnap126126 @automalvo @spiderboogie

@shellspider @blogscach @nightingale047 @deadbydad @deadbydad-writes

@phantomface @spencerrxids @moonjellyfishie @optimisticladysalad @tsumimimi

@purplegobrrrrrr @sillybillyp9 @cyberpsiko @swaggyv1v1 @l-charl

Maybe in another universe my best friend didn't leave me for his ideals.The curse of being the strongest.

Let’s say Levi has a crush on reader but someone else also is pursuing reader. This someone else could be on a similar level to Levi but not necessarily his friend. I just more like to see what people think Levi would act like if he finally talks himself into pursuing reader but turns out he has “competition” in a way

Thank you if you answer this 🫶

Gasp Ah…. I LOVE THIS.

How are you?! Sorry for the late reply! Don't thank me for answering! Thank you for coming to my blog and asking.

Mh, LOVE IT. You know… have you listened to the song "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift? Haha, well, that's Levi LMAO.

I feel, with a hand on my heart, y'all know I love this man, but he simply cannot compete with someone in any field related to social implications. Has Levi finally talked himself into pursuing someone and trying to get his feelings across? Great, he thinks—I'll clarify—HE THINKS that he's being rather OBVIOUS. Maybe for those who know him, they would also notice Levi is interested in this person because he's not behaving like his regular self. But for the poor reader he's trying to court? … he's simply being nice HAHA.

This man would think that stopping by that person's job (if they have a bakery, tea shop, etc., for example) regularly, buying, and having a very small chit-chat is "flirting." He thinks that, if this person is a scout, asking them if they need anything from downtown or if they want a tea is CLEAR that he wants something with them. No.

So if someone else is pursuing the person he loves and has more social skills than him (which is not something hard to have), there's a high chance that person would take the lead in the "race for the reader's heart." Maybe they are more outgoing, charismatic, extroverted, etc., and they take the lead. Levi would be jealous, 100%. He would get grumpy, angry, etc., but always at himself.

I can picture him muttering and cursing at himself under his breath while working, "I'm an idiot, I'm stupid. YoUr HaIR DoESn't lOOk ThAt ShITTy toDAY," mocking his own voice, and then groaning in frustration. "… my mom must have dropped me as a baby or Kenny's kicks really damaged my brain. I can't be this stupid," realizing that this other person says "smooth shit," as he would call it, and he simply can't.

Especially because Levi's love language is acts of service… mixed with degradation lmao. "Give that, you're going to drop it," and he will carry stuff for them. "You look like shit, tch, just sit down, I'll do it," and he brews them a tea and brings them something to eat.

Levi is a grower in people. I can 100% see him having feelings for this person for months, years perhaps. Maybe they even consider and go for a relationship with Levi's competitor, and it doesn't work out, etc., and they have grown close to Levi. Something he says or does makes the reader snap and say, "… are you flirting with me, Captain?"

Levi would look stoic as ever but slightly defeated mixed with embarrassment and say, "Yeah, for the past year. Thank you for finally noticing."

(extra scene)

Levi alone in his office: "Can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? Been here all along. So, why can't you see? You belong with me."

I'll tag people on this one because I had a blast writing it. Thank you so much, you made my birthday lmao.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @kikarouflames @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme Wanna join my tag list? Here!

Levi's eyes in season 4 hold so much emotion 🤍

levi ackerman // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

you’re drunk and ridiculous (and he can’t trust you with anyone else)

gestures

no funny business

as the spark dies

wild card

dust, diamonds

dirty money

nobody's fault but mine

traditions

time

the wife

crush

percolate

petals inked in red

spite

one million to one

power trip

ghost

silent treatment

love hate me

as the world caves in

two faced

bad romance

garden of tulips

plans

and when i see you smile, the clouds will clear

ghostly greetings

safe haven

panacea

sayonara

“may i?”

his wounded heart beats for one

beneath the pages

respite on black waters

galaxies past

overwhelming

End of a Great Story 🪽🥹

He is so sexy in this photo 🫠

the head i'd give this man

(art by yamada_souko on twt)

꩜⋅˚₊‧𓇼 ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ love sick (sfw)

pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader ★

contents: angst, fluff, the most aggressive pining known to man, suggestive language | 1.1k word count . . .

synopsis: levi's been feeling under the weather lately, his symptoms somehow worsening whenever you're near. but it's completely normal that his heart races whenever you glance at him, right? it means absolutely nothing.

Levi is certain he is ill. Terribly, terribly ill.

In the past few days, Levi has been finding himself in an unbearable state, and for no reason at all. It's an illness, it must be. What else can explain this insistent discomfort within him? The pounding of his heart, the clenching of his stomach, the shortness of his breath…he has never experienced anything like it before, and it's driving him mad.

“You should visit the infirmary if you aren't feeling well,” Hange says, looking up from their meal to eye him curiously. “You look rather pale.”

Levi slaps their hand away when they reach out to touch his forehead. “I'm alright.” But at the unconvinced look on Hange’s face, he adds, “It's probably just a cold.”

Hange frowns, taking a spoonful of stew into their mouth. They swallow, then say, “Have you been drinking enough water?”

Levi grunts dismissively and Hange shrugs, resuming their meal. He stares down at his own food, stirring the contents of his bowl with disinterest.

“What about the tea I gave you? That was supposed to help with headaches, but maybe it helps with colds too—”

Levi tunes Hange out as they begin to ramble about herbs and medicinal plants. He can barely pay attention to anything these days, let alone Hange's mindless chatter. All he can think about is—

“Haven't seen you in a while!” Hange calls out suddenly.

Levi blinks, looking up from his bowl. Hange waves enthusiastically across the room and Levi follows their gaze to see you walking over, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes meet his briefly, it's hardly a second long, but Levi feels his heart leap all the same.

He quickly looks back down at his bowl of untouched stew. He’s ill, very ill.

“How's the training coming along?” Hange asks as you sit beside them. You greet Levi politely as you settle into your seat and he nods in response. He doesn't trust himself to speak just yet.

“Horrible,” you say, sighing wearily. “New recruits are always exhausting to deal with.”

Levi watches from the corner of his eye as you start eating. His eyes drift to your mouth and he imagines what it would feel like against his own. Soft, warm, perhaps even sweet? He wonders how it would taste—perhaps of the stew you are currently eating, or maybe something sweeter still.

Hange laughs and Levi looks away when they turn towards him.

“You should ask Levi for some advice,” they say, grinning at you. “I bet he'd be great with new recruits! Right, Levi?”

Levi narrows his eyes at Hange. “I don't have time to babysit.”

You laugh softly and Levi finds his attention returning to you, drawn by the sound of it. He stares, mesmerised by the way your lips curve upwards so beautifully. He wants to touch them, run his thumb over them to feel that warmth and keep it for his lonesome. He wants to kiss them until his own mouth tingles, until he can no longer tell where yours begins and ends.

“I'm sure Levi couldn't help you much this week anyway,” Hange says with a shrug. “He's been sick.”

Your brows furrow as you turn to look at Levi. “You're sick?”

“No,” he grunts.

Hange rolls their eyes. “Yes, he is. He's been feeling ill for days now–”

“Shut up, Shitty Glasses,” Levi snaps, shooting them a withering glare. Hange simply shrugs again before continuing to eat their meal.

Just look at him,” they say through mouthfuls of stew. “His face is beet red!”

Levi glares at Hange again and they return his gaze, unfazed. When they notice your concerned expression, they nod emphatically and say, “See? He's practically steaming!”

Levi turns away from your pensive stare, hating the worry he sees in your eyes. He doesn't want you to waste any thought on him—not when you deserve to be thinking about more important things.

“I'm fine,” Levi mutters.

You hum thoughtfully before turning back to Hange. “Does he have a fever?” you ask them.

Hange shakes their head. “No, he claims he doesn't but I don't believe him. He's been acting strange lately, maybe it's something contagious.”

You hum again. “Have you tried drinking anything that might help?” you ask Levi. “Some tea, perhaps?”

“He wouldn't drink any of my herbal brews,” Hange interjects before Levi can respond. “Said they were weird.”

Levi scowls at Hange, annoyed by how easily you seem to believe their words. “I said they tasted like shit,” he corrects, shooting you a pointed look. “Not that they were weird.”

“But they're good for you!” Hange insists, their brow furrowed. “You should really give them another chance, Levi. I can brew you something different if you don't like the last one–”

“I told you, I don't need it—”

“Maybe some mint would help—”

“Hange—”

“Or maybe ginseng—”

“For fuck's sake—”

“Oh! I know!” Hange exclaims suddenly, slamming their hands on the table excitedly. They grin at Levi. “Lemon balm would do wonders—”

“Enough,” Levi growls. “I don't need your stupid teas–”

Levi's voice falters when you place the back of your hand against his forehead, brushing his bangs aside gently. The gesture is so unexpected that Levi forgets to breathe for a moment. He freezes, his eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You do feel a bit warm,” you murmur. “Maybe you should rest.”

Levi swallows thickly. Your touch is featherlight and cool against his skin. It's soothing, and Levi leans into it before he can stop himself.

“I'm fine,” he repeats, but the words come out breathier than he intended.

You smile softly. “It's alright to take care of yourself sometimes, Levi.”

Levi falls silent at that. He can't bring himself to argue when you're looking at him like that. When your hand is still pressed to his forehead, your fingers still twining through his hair…

“Besides,” you add with a small smirk. “You'll never get better if you don't rest.”

Levi scoffs, averting his gaze. He tells himself that the fluttering in his stomach is a result of your insistence and nothing more. “I've survived worse than a cold,” he says dismissively.

You chuckle. “True, but you won't survive the week if you keep working yourself so hard.” You move to finish your stew, your touch disappearing in the process, and Levi nearly whimpers from the loss of contact.

He clears his throat, willing the sudden tightness there away. “Fine,” he forces out, “I'll rest later today. After I finish some paperwork.”

“Really?” you ask, hopeful.

“Yes,” he lies.

“Promise?”

Levi looks back at you and your expectant stare. You're looking at him so earnestly, your eyes bright with concern and relief. He can't stand it.

He nods.

You smile, satisfied. Levi looks away, unable to bear the sight of it any longer. He tells himself that the warmth in his chest is a result of the shitty stew.

He ignores the fluttering in his stomach as well.

Secret(s) — K. SATO

Prompt: Kenji finally decides to come clean with his feelings and (sort of) confesses to you...except, it doesn't go the way he planned.

Word Count: 2.9k+ words [Damn, I lowkey popped off on this one...] Pairing: Kenji Sato [Ultra-Man: Rising] x Fem! Reader Genre/s: A tiny bit of angst with fluff. Misunderstandings. Mutual pining. Warnings: Swearing. Maybe OOC Kenji (?), not sure tbh...also, I sort of change perspectives weirdly in this one but I tried to make it work the best I can ;-; Plus, I feel like the pacing's weird ;-;

KENJI SATO HAD TWO BIG SECRETS. Number one; he was none other than the Ultra-Man, begrudgingly taking over the momentous mantle after his father was injured. Unlike his booming baseball career, the whole 'superhero' thing was honestly a humbling experience, as Kenji realised the numerous beatings and immediate danger that comes with the spotlight. Though, after what was the unique experience of baby-sitting a kaiju and finally mending his relationship with his father, did Kenji come to terms with and welcome this responsibility. Gladly, Kenji finally found that much needed balance in his life that was necessary and soon, his life didn't seem as bad as it was before. It wasn't lonely anymore either, he thinks.

And number two; he has a massive crush on you. The both of you knew each other since you were little kids, growing up and going to school together like true best-friends did. Initially glued to the hip, you were then forced apart when he had to abruptly move to America with his mother. The transition was difficult to say the least, as little Kenji was thrown into what seemed like a whole new world. Other kids would talk constantly about the way he looked and acted behind his back—about how different he was, and whilst Kenji eventually grew out of it, he couldn't help but miss home. You, included.

When Kenji returned to Japan after many, many years, his feelings for you resurfaced when you surprised him during one of his baseball games. Amongst the crowd, you had been sitting by the front row when Kenji suddenly locked eyes with you as he entered the batting field. He had to do a double-take because God, the years treated you so damn well (And you were even wearing his jersey. His jersey). Whilst he wanted nothing more than to run to and scoop you into his arms, Kenji had a game to play. He had a strong urge to show you his best performance and damn it, did he deliver. He was the Ken Sato, after all. He never disappoints.

The both of you had your heartfelt reunion after the game as he held and spun you in his embrace, in all his sweaty glory (it was honestly a bit gross, but you let it slide this once for the sake of celebration). Excited, you both decided to catch up at Tonkotsu Tonki after he washed up. And to his relief, it was like you never changed. You were still the amazing, humble and kind you — and even though he thought you of beautiful then, you were practically glowing now.

Despite the piling stress he was enduring then — with having to juggle between being Ultra-Man, baby-sitting Emi and some career troubles — your presence alone was like a breath of fresh air. Whenever he was with you, whether it be on the phone or in person, he wasn't the famous celebrity, Ken Sato, or the beloved Japanese super-hero, Ultra-Man. He was just Kenji. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

So with that all being said, with months-full of excruciating pining, Kenji finally made the big decision to confess to you. Today. He invited you out to Tonkotsu Tonki for dinner one spontaneous night, booking a private space away from watchful eyes and any possible distractions.

"So, [Y/n]...I have something to tell you," he suddenly brings up after you finished your meals. His hands start to feel clammy as you avert your attention from your phone, staring up at him with curious eyes. Kenji was normally confident with most things, but vulnerability wasn't exactly his strong suit. He was usually flirtatious and a tease in nature, always flashing a dashing smile and blowing kisses towards the camera and his fans. But today was different. Heck, he couldn't even look at you right now without his head turning into complete mush.

On the other hand, the tone of his voice surprises you. It was noticeably a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation you had just minutes prior. It must've been important, you think to yourself. And it made you nervous. "Oh," you lamely say, blinking at him, "uh, sure. Shoot." You clasp your hands together to keep them from fiddling too much, your nerves tingling at your fingertips. The thing is, you had an inkling of an idea as to what he was going to say, which was something you've been itching to hear for the past month. '...Was he actually going to follow through?' You think in quiet anticipation.

"Right. So, um..." Kenji throws some gestures in the air in attempt to gauge the right words, "...well, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. It might be a bit...surprising–heavy, even. And I'm worried that it might change a lot of things between us–which I really hoped it wouldn't, but I guess it's inevitable."

He keeps an attentive gaze on you, studying how your features slowly became more tense. Funnily and strangely enough, he thought you looked a bit constipated and perhaps in another circumstance, he would've laughed at you. Though, he knew he wasn't doing any better himself – the restaurant suddenly felt like a sauna and his heart was practically pounding out of his chest as if he were in a game.

Kenji unknowingly continues to babble on. "I-I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't want to scare you off. But now, since I've come back from America–and am planning on staying here for good– and-and we've been given a chance to reconnect these past couple months...I think it's a good time to finally come clean and tell you the truth—"

"I already know," you suddenly intervene, surprising Kenji and even yourself. You mentally reprimand yourself for abruptly inserting yourself in the midst of his dialogue, cursing your lack of patience.

"You...you already know?" He asks sheepishly, clearly taken aback, "what–what do you mean you already know? Like, was I being too obvious or something?" He couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escapes his lips. He felt like he was going to implode at any minute as the embarrassment rapidly crept up his neck, dusting his cheeks.

You wince a little. "W-Well, no. But I guess I already had my suspicions. I noticed that you've been acting kinda weird recently and I sort of just...y'know, connected the dots," you shrugged, looking apologetic. He honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

"Oh...right. I forget how perceptive you can be sometimes. It's kinda scary," he attempts to flash you a smirk but it comes off as an awkward smile instead, as he raises a hand to rub his nape. You notice this and try to offer some consolation, reaching out to grab his hand. The action alone causes butterflies to flutter erratically in Kenji's stomach and for a moment, he feels hopeful.

"Hey, for what it's worth I'm actually glad that you told me, Ken. It must've been hard keeping it to yourself," you say warmly. Kenji scoffs in response – that was an understatement. "Oh, God. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get this off of my chest," he huffs incredulously, unconsciously melting into your touch.

There was a brief second of pause and soon, Kenji couldn't help but feel as though there was something...off about this whole exchange, especially with how casual you were being at the moment. After all, Kenji literally just confessed (well, kind of) and you just sat there, smiling at him without giving him a definitive answer. Was...he forgetting something? Was he even doing this right?

"Y'know, you seem a bit...nonchalant about all this," he points out, "because if I'm being completely honest with you, I feel like I'm about to pass out." Brows furrowed, you straighten up in your seat. "Wait, Ken, I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't care or anything," you attempt to affirm with the wave of your hands, "i-it's just...slowly sinking in right now. Even though I told you I knew, hearing it from you straight is still overwhelming."

Overwhelming? At that, Kenji frowns. "Well...I did warn you, didn't I?" He says disheartened, letting out a deep sigh whilst running a hand through his hair. "Look, [Y/n]. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, nor do I want to pressure you for an answer right now. I just thought I'd tell you–"

"Woah, woah. Wait a minute. Pressure me?" You question with raised brows, now acutely confused, "pressure me into what?" Kenji rapidly blinks and tilts his head to one side, almost gaping at you, "Uhm, pressure you into reciprocating my feelings?" Crickets. Literal crickets. It was only after a few passing seconds that the both of you realise that you were talking about very, very different things.

"Y-You have feelings for me?" You gawk as you point to yourself, a bright blush now evident across your cheeks. Kenji wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. "I–Yes! Yes, I do–I thought I made that super clear?!" He panics, balling his fists, "what the hell were you talking about then?!"

Ah, shit. This was awkward, but there's no point in turning back now, you think to yourself, grimacing. You look around the both of you in caution and thankfully, the cook behind the counter was nowhere in sight, presumably having gone back of the kitchen. You leaned close towards Kenji. "I was talking about you being Ultra-Man!" You harshly whispered between your cupped hands, and it causes Kenji to bang his knee against the countertop, eliciting a loud thud.

You gasp. "Shit, Ken, are you okay—" "Fuck-What the actual fuck?!" He whisper-shouts, his eyes growing as wide as saucers as he aggressively rubs his knee. "how-how did you know about that?!" Maybe Kenji should've initially tried to deny the accusation, but his better judgement was severely trampled on, alongside his ego, by his failed attempt of a confession.

Now it was your turn to fumble. "W-Well, first of all, every time you would abruptly leave when we hang out, Ultra-Man would just appear out of nowhere and it would always be when there's a kaiju in the city! Like, come on, the timing was always coincidentally impeccable!" You explain, your arms messily flailing in the air, "And don't even get me started on the lame-ass excuses you make! What? You needed to water your plants? You couldn't even conjure a single sprout, let alone a pot plant even if you tried—"

"I–Okay, first of all, that is so not true–"

You raise a digit, causing him to halt mid-sentence, "And not only that, but maybe you should–I don't know, work on being more discreet with your identity because I literally saw you transform near a freaking construction site!"

Kenji's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "Shit, you saw me? When did you–"

"Over a month ago, with that pink dragon-looking kaiju." You were referring to Emi. At that, Kenji squints his eyes at you, "You knew for a whole month and didn't tell me!?"

"Shh, lower your voice, Ken! Someone's gonna hear us!" You hush, "And I was planning on telling you at some point! Believe me, but I-I just didn't know how to bring it up! It's not exactly the smoothest conversation starter, y'know?" You look at him guiltily, your voice growing quiet, "I was kinda hoping that you'd tell me over time...when you were ready."

Kenji was now sporting a migraine, his mind trying to wrap around all the information you've just spewed at him. "You...you didn't tell anyone else about this, right?" He then asks anxiously. You were quick to shake your head, "No, of course not, and I wasn't planning to. I know how dangerous that information would be if it landed in the wrong hands—"

"And you do realise that you knowing all this would put you into danger, right?" Kenji says seriously. His own comment causes him to slump over at the counter, sighing heavily as he holds his head in his hands, "...it's why I never wanted you to know in the first place."

A small pang of hurt hits you as he admits this, but you decide to let it slide, knowing where Kenji was coming from. "Hey, come on, I'm stronger than I look, Ken. At least give me some credit over here," you attempt to liven up the mood, nudging him with your elbow. "Apart from kaiju, there are some really dangerous people out there, [Y/n]. You and I don't know what they're capable of," he mumbles into his arms, his gaze remaining on the table. Having you roped into his Ultra-Man business opened a lot of opportunities for danger to strike at any angle. Kenji wouldn't forgive himself if something were to happen to you, knowing that it could've been avoided in the first place. Heck, look what happened with the KDF.

Your eyes soften at his concern, pressing your lips into a thin line as you let out a small huff. "Look, we'll figure something out. But in the meantime, it'll be okay. I'll be fine, Ken."

"But—ow!" Kenji winces as you flick him on the forehead. You click your tongue in mild annoyance, speaking once more to reiterate as he rubs the reddened spot on his head, "I said, I'll be fine. So, enough with the brooding, Ken. What's done is done, okay? Nothing's going to chance the fact that I already know, and there's no point in entertaining the 'what if's." You then cross your arms against your chest, before softly muttering under your breath, "...and plus, you definitely gotta work on that transforming gimic of yours. You're gonna give yourself away with that clumsy technique."

Kenji initially gave you an unimpressed look, but he couldn't help the small grin that grew on his face as he spotted the mischievous glint in your eyes. You were definitely poking fun at him now. He lets out an audible scoff in response. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try. I bet if you were in my place, your identity would already be headlining all the news outlets within minutes!" You roll your eyes at this but you end up joining in on his laughter, chuckling alongside him.

Soon after, there was a brief and quiet moment of contemplation, and you found yourself staring at Kenji's profile. His confession wasn't left forgotten as your mind slowly picked up the pieces from earlier and soon, you found yourself growing increasingly flustered at the memory. The thing is, you did in fact reciprocate his feelings. With his success, you didn't think he'd even so much as spare a glance in your direction, expecting him to settle for someone of his calibre. You always thought that he was way beyond your league, so of course, you had your insecurities. But now, even if it was only for a brief moment, they all seemed to have dissipated and was now replaced by a warm, fuzzy sensation.

"Hey...so, uhm...about your confession," you quietly muster, unable to look at him straight in the eye, "...I guess I should give you my answer, huh?" Kenji's posture straightens in response as an uneasy expression takes over his features, having been reminded of his humiliation, "[Y/n], wait. Like I said, you don't have to say anything right now if you don't want to—" You didn't really comprehend what he was saying at that point, distracted by the loud thumping of your heart against your ears.

You bite your lip nervously, adjusting yourself in your seat to face him properly as Kenji continues to waffle on about your regard. Before your nerves could've forced you to back down, you were quick to dip forward and place a small peck against his cheek, just at the corner of his lips — you also made sure to have it linger a bit to send your message across better. Kenji stiffens as a result, shutting him up completely as a dumb-struck look strikes his face. "I like you too, Ken..." you say when you pull away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It takes a few moments for Kenji to fully comprehend what just happened, before a shy, boyish giggle escapes his lips. "Well...I did not expect this to go the way it did," he airly says in a mixture of shock and amusement. You smile widely at him, finding his expression very endearing. "Oh, yeah? Then what did you have planned for me then, hot-shot?" You tease lightly with newfound confidence, leaning against the counter as you rest your chin on your hands. Kenji smirks. "Well, I was planning on serenading you and sweeping you off of your feet, and then carrying you off into the sunset," he jokes lowly, mirroring you. At this point, your faces were just centimetres away, and Kenji could practically feel the warmth radiating off of you. His eyes then dart towards your lips, thinking about how plush and inviting they looked, before looking back up towards your face. You also found yourself doing the same.

It was magnetising, the way you both naturally closed the gap between yourselves. His lips perfectly moulded itself with yours as his hands found its way to your cheeks, pulling you closer towards him. Your own fingers crept its way up the base of his neck, interlacing them as you also tugged him into you.

Ans so, after this eventful aftermath, and at the end of the day, Kenji (begrudgingly) had no more secrets to hide from you.

A/N: YALL...the absolute chokehold this man has on me is INSANE...but otherwise, thank you for reading! As always, constructive criticism is much appreciated!!

levi ackerman // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

you’re drunk and ridiculous (and he can’t trust you with anyone else)

gestures

no funny business

as the spark dies

wild card

dust, diamonds

dirty money

nobody's fault but mine

traditions

time

the wife

crush

percolate

petals inked in red

spite

one million to one

power trip

ghost

silent treatment

love hate me

as the world caves in

two faced

bad romance

garden of tulips

plans

and when i see you smile, the clouds will clear

ghostly greetings

safe haven

panacea

sayonara

“may i?”

his wounded heart beats for one

beneath the pages

respite on black waters

galaxies past

overwhelming

drunk calls from ken sato, your ex boyfriend of three years, happened often as much as you'd like to go against it. you heard from his father, hayao sato, that he has been drinking since the two of you broke up.

was it his way of coping? or, was there something else bothering him? was he okay? fuck. that wasn't any of your concern anymore. he hasn't been your concern for six months, but unfortunately, he likes being your concern. that self-centred douchebag.

"yー mmh, hic, you miss me, baby?" ken slurred. even through the static of his voice, you could almost hear him smiling. he liked talking to you.

"kenji . ." you said, rubbing your temples.

hearing your frustration, ken sato laughed. "yoーyou see me win t'day, hic, baby? you were watch'n me, right? yeah?" he continued.

"you're drunk, kenji." you said.

there was a minute of silence between the two of you. you thought that he was composing himself, snapping out of the influence and thinking of a way to end the call.

you were mistaken.

"come back to me, pーplease, baby. i'll be better. fuck, i know you wan' it too, love. stop teasin'. love me again, [name]."

kenji sato headcanons ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ synopsis: what ken sato would be like as a boyfriend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ pairing: kenji sato x gn!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a/n: this is completely self indulgent because of ultraman brainrot hehe... ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ word count: 668

ken sato might be this charismatic player on the baseball field and to the press but kenji is an awkward, shy person when it comes to romance. his confidence evaporates into thin air whenever you’re around. imagine his surprise when he found out you liked him back. he was sweating and nauseous for an entire week before his coach was tired of him and asked you out on his behalf. he asked you to call him kenji.

i’d like to think he’s a big romantic because of his parents, his mother in particular. to find someone that he loves as much as his mother loved his father? that’s the dream for kenji. when he found you, he could see that future with you.

he is a man of focus. when he has his eyes set on you, you are the only person in the vicinity. at first, you were a bit insecure about dating one of the most sought after men in baseball. when kenji found out… let’s just say you no longer have those worries.

his love language is most definitely acts of service. he loves to send you texts throughout the day whenever he thinks of you.

“i just saw the cutest dog walk by and remembered that you wanted one. should i visit the shelter on the way home?”

“you wouldn’t believe how much i miss you right now.”

“thought you’d enjoy the sunset as much as me. missing you so much right now.”

“when i come home, we’re making macarons. i know how much you’ve been craving them.”

he was hesitant to tell you about his ultraman heritage. he avoided telling you for a month after you guys moved to japan. except, you aren’t stupid. the bruises he’d come home with weren’t from baseball. the bruises would suspiciously be in the same places ultraman would get hit... you didn’t question his decision to withhold the information. it was a very personal secret. you’d just ask mina if he was okay after fights and if he’d need an ice bath prepared.

the day he found out that you knew, he cried. it was a particularly nasty fight against an agitated kaiju. mina informed you that he’d need help getting home. when you pulled up next to him, he tried making excuses until he saw the first aid kit you had. he couldn’t stop apologizing. you just smiled and kissed him. the weight lifted off of his chest and he could breathe. when you guys got home, mina told him everything. he vowed in his head to marry you after that night.

now, he was incredibly thankful and considered himself very lucky that you were so accepting of his ultraman secret. he just really hoped you were also accepting of a kaiju baby. thankfully, you were a big fan of cute things.

despite how tiring raising the kaiju baby was, kenji always made time for you. he may neglect his sleep but he’d never neglect the love of his life. he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t his father and wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

when it comes to physical touch, i don’t see grand gestures despite his baseball persona. i feel like he’d want to protect your privacy. it’d be light touches like a hand on the small of your back or locking pinkies whenever you guys are close enough. he wouldn’t hide the relationship though. absolutely not. any time he can bring you up, he will. press conferences. interviews. small talk. the world will know he’s taken and he’s yours.

after seeing you with emi, he’ll most definitely want kids with you. he wants a child that looks just like you, whether it be by birth or adoption. he thinks that, if the kid looks like him, he’ll act just like him… he’d rather avoid that. he hopes he’ll be a good father.