The Sakura Haruno Ultimate Fic List : A Masterlist

tokyo revengers masterlist !! pt. 2

pt. 1 !! pt. 3

tachibana hinata:

big sister w/ mikey <3

lil bro hcs

tachibana naoto:

big sister w/ mikey <3

lil bro hcs

apple of his eyes <3

kawata nahoya:

s/o who's scared of the rain <3

romantic s/o <3

princess s/o <3

cottagecore gf <3

burning the world for her <3

perfect middle

kawata souya:

s/o who loves classics <3

s/o who's scared of the rain <3

actor/musician s/o <3

she's my princess <3

cottagecore gf <3

shy, but loving <3

perfect middle

ran haitani:

little sister w sanzu <3

little sister w mikey <3

gen z little sister

volleyball player sister

little sister dating?!??

runaway cat sister

little sis gets sick

little sister w mitsuya <3

car racer lil sibling

drunk uncle hcs

nothing to fear <3

slaying left and right <3

give me your love! you already have it <3

rindou haitani:

little sister w sanzu <3

little sister w mikey <3

gen z little sister

volleyball player sister

little sister dating?!??

runaway cat sister

little sis gets sick

little sister w mitsuya <3

car racer lil sibling

drunk uncle hcs

more to love <3

manliest muse ever <3

slaying left and right <3

oh darling girl <3

wakasa imaushi:

little sister hc

a snow leopard's savior <3

runaway baby <3

hakkai shiba:

little sister hc

crushing on yuzuha

sunshine sister hcs

ballet dancer sister hcs

undercover romantic w/ ran <3

baby bro hcs

disney princess type thing

panicking according to protocol

nah, girl he's mine

darling, you're perfect <3

yuzuha shiba:

yuzuha's twin w kokonoi <3

little sister hc

crushing on yuzuha

sunshine sister hcs

ballet dancer sister hcs

undercover romantic w/ ran <3

baby bro hcs

panicking according to protocol

nah, girl he's mine

taiju shiba:

little sister hc

sunshine sister hcs

ballet dancer sister hcs

twin sister hcs

undercover romantic w/ ran <3

baby bro hcs

panicking according to protocol

kisaki tetta:

lil bro w/ naoto <3

hanma shuji:

little sister hc

little sister hc (one year age gap!)

sukeban s/o <3

artist s/o <3

lil brother w/ kisaki <3

sorry, busy trolling rn <3

hit the streets, hit the books

speedster hits the road <3

kakucho hitto:

adopted by shinichiro

izana's sister dating hcs <3

little sister hcs

darling girl cat <3

red is the memories <3

wakasa imaushi:

y/n v.s. bugs

i do it better <3

runaway baby <3

sanzu haruchiyo:

rivals to lovers?! <3

abused s/o <3

seeing him in 3D <3

bonten:

dad hcs

mikey's twin hcs

the first time he met you, your evols resonated so well with each other — it leveled an entire building to the ground and three others. the clean up was a mess but at that time his lips quirked up in a slanted smile. “I guess you’re mine now.”

———————————————————————

you do not agree with his territorial claims. in fact, if anything, a part of you is busy rolling your eyes at the audacity of men to not give you a say. but it was nice, to unleash that much power, and to know you hold it. that here is someone able to make you feel good about your abilities and someone who gives a clear guide as to where you stand in their life: an asset, valuable. secretly, you’ve always loved the rush of feeling powerful and here is a man who hands it to you. 

a part of your mind labels him as worth sticking around for.

———————————————————————

you strike an unlikely friendship with him. he tells you about his search for his reincarnated soulmate. you listen even if it sounds like a fantasy to you — to be around someone who is pretty much proof that reincarnation and past lives exist is difficult to grasp but you also have an open mind — and it’s nice, you think, to watch him reminisce even if you can read the melancholy in his eyes. you don’t push him for answers, content with what he’s willing to share and recognize it when he wants to pull back. it’s nice to know he has a weakness; it’s nice to know he’s the type of person to relentlessly go after what he wants. 

it’s another mark on your book to keep sticking around him. you like people that inspire you to do more in your life. you hope he meets her soon. 

when he asks you jokingly if you’ve met your soulmate, you tell him blankly you have no idea. shouldn’t it be evident enough from the way you stick around him instead? 

it’s the first time you hear him laugh.

———————————————————————

so you help out when he tells you he has an inkling he’s found her. a hunter with a protocore for a heart based in linkon. 

you object at his stupid and idiotic behavior of stalking her. this is why he’s single all these years, you think. no tact whatsoever and is the poster child for terrifying your crush instead of being normal around them. you tell him as much. he looks so offended you can’t help but laugh and feel bad enough you give him pointers instead.

like, let you do the scouting and snooping to get to know her. secretly you also want to know who she is — you’re a bit nosy like that when it comes to the lives of the people around you. you want to know if she’s worth his attention and weigh the change in dynamic between you and him if she’s in the picture. 

did he let you? yes. you get to know her absolutely terrible skills at kitty cards and her refusal to admit defeat. it’s fine, you get it, pride is all one tend to have and you also are a sore loser sometimes; you just mask it well. weekly, you’ll meet up to play them in the card cafe if both of your schedules align.

did he ignore your advice? yes. because men, you learn, sometimes love loopholes. so off he goes making the mechanical crow he names mephisto to which you point out what a terrible name it was: it’s too clunky, you say to justify yourself.

he stares at you unimpressed. “it means not lovi—“ 

“—ng light,” you continue, “i know. had to google it and everything.”

“so?” as if it proves his point of being a skilled namer of things.

you shrug, “sounds like you’re trying too hard.” you refrain from saying it doesn’t sound like him at all even if the meaning does sound like him.

“you’re such a hater,” he grouses.

“i’m not,” you insist, extending a finger to… mephie. that’s cuter in your head. “you’re hurting his feelings for naming him something awful.” 

“he’s a robot.”

“a robot doesn’t need a custom stand perch in every room in this house.” mephie shuffles towards you and nudges your hand with his head. “don’t listen to him sweetheart. you’re the sweetest,” you coo to the crow. you’ve always liked animals most would associate with omens: crows, snakes, black cats. 

you give him the stink eye when he sends mephie to stalk his beloved. an absolute spoilsport. 

———————————————————————

when she stayed at the manor and your lives collide, you keep out of their way and stay in your assigned wing in the base. both of you have agreed you’ll tell her about you knowing him at a different time — maybe an orchestrated visit by him to your weekly kitty card cafe game and then she’ll ask of how you are acquainted. luke and kieran have been giggling nonstop and you send them your thoughts and prayers for their next prank. it’s a reunion you don’t wish to intrude upon and you’ve told him off when you hear how he treated her at first sight. you hope he’s making it up to her as mephie nudged your fingers for more pets. 

a robot, my ass, you think. the clinginess is worth studying even as you indulge its every whim. animals have never harmed you; it’s why you find it easy for them to love. once, a palm reader in linkon stationed at the card cafe stop you and tell you you’ve saved animals in your past life. you take it in stride, knowing what you know about reincarnation from sylus. you are impressed and starting to consider maybe there’s really truth in past lives as the first dream you had growing up was a field you get to roam in. it was also where you administer first aid to beasts and gazelles injured in the wild, like a field doctor, no matter how improbable that is logistically. 

you await the gossip session come sunrise, or the weekend or whenever their honeymoon ends.

———————————————————————

“she doesn’t remember.”

he tells you this in his office without prompt. miss hunter has left the premises two days prior and you were happy to not pry. if he wanted to tell you, he would. 

you recalibrate your response. sorry is too trite and you personally don’t get heartaches and the melodrama of a heartbreak. to act otherwise would be insulting and not maintain your integrity and yet even you know it’s callous.

sylus sends a wry smile your way, “no tears for me?” 

“you don’t need it,” you say, then, choose your words carefully because you do consider him as a friend. “all i know about love is people leave even when you don’t want them to. so i find it hard to imagine being sad that they don’t stay.” 

he frowns. “you don’t believe that.” a statement. he knows you a bit too well for your liking sometimes.

“no,” you agree, “it’s what i learned.”

a silence passes between you, too heavy for your liking, so you wave it away, “what i’m trying to say is i can’t promise she’ll remember one day or that she’ll be who she is in your memory, but anyone worthwhile would appreciate the effort you’ve put into finding her.”

“so long as you don’t terrorize her,” you add as levity.

he snorts. “i’ll try not to.” 

“i’m serious,” you start. “you can be…” 

he raises an eyebrow.

charming, sincere, lovable 

“…passable: not terrible to be around.”

“passable,” he repeats.

“i mean i haven’t killed you,” you say. “yet.” 

“a stellar review.”

you roll your eyes. “it is. you should be grateful about that.”

he huffs a laugh.

“i’m also giving you full permission to mope for five business days.”

“only five?”

“you won’t stop moping after five days. i’m just giving you a heads up as to when i will stop pretending not seeing you cry and be obnoxious about it.”

“duly noted. shall we sign an agreement for that as well?”

“i don’t know. is your memory deteriorating that quick?”

“are you calling me old?”

“you did. i never said that,” you stand up and head towards the door, considering your job done when you spot the amusement in his eyes. “now i’m going to go see what luke and kieran want for lunch. you want anything?”

“the usual’s fine.”

you give him a thumbs up in acknowledgement, leaving him to brood.

———————————————————————

life goes on. you let him wallow by distracting him with offers to spar so you can brush up on your self defense skills. unlike miss hunter, you have abysmal fighting skills. a sword feels too heavy on you, a gun feels too detached, and you never like the idea of hurting anything. you’re interested in self defense even before meeting sylus so that’s the one concession you are willing to learn in an effort to arm yourself. it’s why sylus never sends you out for missions often, which suits you just fine. you like your limbs in tact, thanks. you’re content to being brought out only when he needs backup to resonate with you or information you can gather posing as a civilian. 

in return you learn how to heal, how to suture, keep compression on wounds. in a twisted way, you fulfill your mother’s lifelong dream of seeing you be a doctor, though it’s not like she knows what you really do far away from home.

not that sylus gets injured often, you’ve seen his skin knit itself back together. you’re not too worried though it does make you wonder if your treatment is even needed and why sylus would indulge you. he indulges luke and kieran’s pranks so if you’re bad at your medical skills, it’s probably his version of indulging you. nothing to get so worked up about, you decide. sometimes you think despite a tough life that turns many to cruelty, he’s still kind. maybe that’s just how some people are: inherently good with compulsions to do good. you wish you had that kind of integrity. maybe you’ll be more successful then. fulfill your potential the way people expected you to instead of playing house even if you’re content with where you are.

———————————————————————

on a fine day, miss hunter takes you out for shopping. gifts! she cheerfully announces as christmas looms around the corner. you follow her around the mall after your weekly kitty card game. it’s been three weeks since the last one; she was stationed for a mission out of town and you’re glad she’s returned back just fine. 

you see her picking up gifts for her coworkers, the childhood friend turned doctor, an artist she complains about often, even sylus is on the list along with luke and kieran. what a full life, you think, to shop for so many people. 

the crow household — as you like to name it in your head — occasionally does celebrate in their own way, but crime doesn’t wait for anybody and since you’ve been with them, there was only one instance where the four of you shared dinner together on christmas night. gifts are not a tradition solely on christmas in the household so there was never any import on holiday shopping sprees. maybe things will change with miss hunter after all.

she tugs you to a craft store and a red pattern catches your eye, calling out to you. 

“it looks like the flower you like to doodle,” miss hunter says from behind you. 

you hum, filing the fact she’s observant enough and has good enough memory to remember the one time you doodle on a notebook waiting for her even when you quickly snap it shut once she makes herself known. truthfully, you doodle the flowers without thought — the same way someone would doodle clouds or spirals or hearts absentmindedly. you didn’t think the flower you doodle about would be based on a real one. you figure it was just your brain’s way being creative to draw the kind of basic flower outline everyone learns to draw as kids and you trying to change the petals to something much sharper like shards. maybe you’ll look up what flower it is later at home.

you grab the wrapping paper as an impulse buy. 

———————————————————————

in the end you give a diffuser set to miss hunter at the end of your shopping trip. you get sylus a pair of onyx cufflinks and matching hoodies monogramed with their names for kieran and luke to replace the ones that got busted during their latest mission. 

you place the gifts in their respective rooms when they’re out of the mansion and go to bed.

when you wake up and head to the breakfast bar, the twins are lounging and lazing about with unrestrained glee in their countenance. it’s nice to see them not wearing the masks; kieran’s scar treatment is going well. you elect to maintain your peace and ignore their eyes trained on you. it’s probably another harmless prank.

 “we love the hoodie,” luke says, all delight conspiracy lacing his voice. 

you hum in acknowledgment as you pour hot water for your morning tea. “i’m glad you like them.” you’re feeling chrysanthemum. now where did it go? you rummage through the cupboard and ask if they know where the flowers are, not paying attention enough to puzzle out kieran’s cryptic whisper to his twin, “i told you so.”  

there’s the sound of someone slapping someone’s arm — probably the boys play fighting again — and luke calling out, “chrysanthemum is on the left. bottom drawer.” 

“thanks, luke!” they’re sweet to you and occasionally, they’ll rope you in on their schemes so there’s never a dull moment around. when sylus first welcomes you, one of the twins will always keep you company. probably as a surveillance measure from sylus.

 “boss is away,” kieran, the more sensible one says though the mischief in his voice is still very much present. 

“he should be back soon,” luke adds.

you give a sound of acknowledgment. they like to tell you where the boss is all the time and you’ve always taken it in stride as their habit to inform you even if it’s obvious when sylus is not present sometimes. it’s an indulgence you make for them — to not dismiss their announcement outright especially when you’re aware of said fact and pretend each time that they’re delivering some grand news you don’t know. you suspect it’s now more of a tradition than anything else, knowing how sharp they are. you watch the flowers bloom under hot water and blow on the cup, impatient for a sip even if it’s still a weak brew. 

“in about 2 minutes, i reckon,” kieran says, which is new. they don’t normally give you sylus’ eta. you eye them warily.

“no, a minute and 47 seconds. i tracked his bike.” 

“that’s cheating.” 

“only cuz you didn’t think of it first.” 

kieran throws his hands up and grumbles about not wanting to pay up for the bet.

further down the hall, the front door swings open. 

“well, none of us win then,” kieran says. 

“i’m still closer so i win.” 

“no,” kieran explains, patiently, and hauls his twin up. “we never said it should be accurate on the dot.”

“oh look at the time,” luke feigns ignorance to his twin and starts making his way towards the exit. “it’s our cue to leave. bye miss!” 

“have fun!” kieran tells you as he chases his twin with arguments as to why he owes him nothing and the bet is a bust.

you raise your hand in a wave to empty air, wondering what that is all about before chucking it to their typical shenanigans. it’s a crisp winter morning so you decide to spend a bit of time leaning on the kitchen island with your tea and a sudoku puzzle on your phone. heavy footsteps alert you to sylus heading your way and when you feel his presence in the room, you greet him without looking up, counting the number of 4s on the board. “welcome back.” 

you pen a 7 on the upper right hand box and put down the phone when there’s no response. maybe he wants to talk? he’s not moving nor did he acknowledge your greeting. it’s then when you see the cufflinks on his sleeves. “oh, you found the cufflinks! did you like it?”

there’s a perplexing look on his face as he approaches you— one you’re not familiar with. you wonder if maybe he doesn’t like it and is coming up with a way to ask if you have the receipt still to do a full return. you know he doesn’t wear long sleeves often or he does but the sleeves are usually rolled up, but you have seen him with the full get up with a suit and everything once in a while when meetings are set up and events where formal wear is required. you didn’t expect him to wear it so soon… maybe there’s a defect you didn’t spot? you decide to save him the trouble, “if you don’t like it, it’s fine! i can return them if you want.” 

“no,” his voice like gravel. “it’s a great gift.”

“oh,” you reply stupidly because now you’re not sure why he looks so… solemn? sad? it doesn’t fit him at all. “well, i’m glad you like it.” 

“i do.” 

“okay.” 

his eyes search yours. never had he look at you this way, this… reverent wistfulness you’re not sure you’re meant to see, like he’s memorizing the features on your face. “sylus,” you say, softly, afraid to break this moment you’re not sure is yours to keep, yet is still fragile all the same. “what’s wrong?”

he smiles something awful, all rueful and wrong. “nothing,” he says and it’s starting to worry you — this odd behavior of his. lying so awfully, no comeback to distort the truth somehow. you wonder what happened when he was out. a new threat? 

“you’re not going to die are you?”

he chokes out a laugh, “no, no i’m not.” 

“okay. then, can i help with this ‘nothing’?”

he looks subdued again, all forlorn with regret. slowly, he raises his hand and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. you hold your breath at the sudden touch, all gentle and careful and again, confusion freezing you in place because yes, friends can touch and tidy your hair, but shouldn’t this only be reserved for miss hunter? it’s also the first time he has ever touched you this gently. you know it’s wrong. he belongs to someone you consider a friend. you’ll berate him tomorrow and come clean to miss hunter tomorrow too. you should stop it, but he looks like he needs it. “don’t worry about it,” he says, and whether he read your mind or he’s refusing your help, you choose to believe him as you always do, savoring the warmth of his hand and a touch not tainted with cruelty.

———————————————————————

end notes:

alexa play: but if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did.

in case it wasn't clear: reader is not mc in the current timeline, but reader is the myth mc, just with no memory of it. sylus mistakes game mc as his counterpart. and so the present timeline of sylus meeting game mc exists just the same here.

part 2 | part 3

Love and Deepspace Non MC Reader Fics

(list inspired by: @erisnxxi )

made this collection for myself and to keep track of everything I've read so far. some are crossposted on tumblr and ao3 so I'll try to add both links (though i might miss some so let me know).

Status: Unedited & Incomplete tags; More fics to be added soon

symbols (will use soon):

✧ - smut

♡ - yandere/possessive/obsessive

☆ - angst

✴︎ - isekai/reincarnation/transmigration/reverse isekai

☁︎ - fluff

𖥔 - self aware au (technically counts as nonmc)

Caleb:

Rotten Apples by hcntrcss: (ao3) (tumblr)

Echoes in Space by feralaffection: (ao3)

Live, for Me by kat_the_cat: (ao3)

Psychosomatic by minamidwinter: (ao3)

The Colonel's Keeper by saintobio: (tumblr)

Weightless Paradise by luvl3ss: (ao3) (tumblr)

The Engineer's Gravity by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)

back to friends by hxlxnaaa: (tumblr) (ao3)

keeper by "anonymous": (ao3)

mine by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)

best friend's brother au by mandalhoerian7: (tumblr)

Caleb's Spitfire - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)

fake dating by militaryapple: (tumblr)

Caleb becomes a wet rat (and gets unpixelated?!) by 4-the-l0ve-0f-art : (tumblr) (ao3)

Sylus:

Rewriting Fate by feralaffection: (ao3)

when love arrives-- and when she leaves. by cainis: (ao3)

Inside an Otoge: Mister Dragon, Let Me Love You by writerclaire: (ao3) (tumblr)

A Second Life for Strays! by stupidboy: (ao3)

Error 404 by ittybittyfanblog: (tumblr)

Impartial Hearts by ladsonlads: (tumblr)

surprise encounter by kitimeq: (tumblr)

calm and serenity by blueivyy99: (tumblr)

breaking my heart, 'tis the season, i guess by cainis: (ao3)

the sin & the sinner by saintobio: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3)

heartbreak anniversary with sylus by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)

hurts so good by comatosebunny09: (tumblr)

merry christmas, mr. sylus by comatosebunny09: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3)

sensitive by comatosebunny09: (tumblr: 1, 2)

a curse between us by eelliotss: (tumblr: 1, 2)

Fourth Wall by always-just-red: (tumblr)

Onychinus' Finest by always-just-red: (tumblr)

Emptiness by antaresr: (ao3)

ikigai by lighting_and_shadow: (ao3)

maybe by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)

enough by captivating-flavors: (tumblr: 1, 2)

Sylus' Darling - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)

Zayne:

Nocturne of Twilight by chuloyi: (ao3) (tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4)

My Wedding Vow Is To Divorce You by kira-loves0905: (tumblr)

lost among the pages by lazylattedgleam: (tumblr)

just give me your forever by shaiyasstuff: (tumblr: 1, 2)

heartbreak anniversary with zayne by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)

Gymnopédie no. 1 by deltachye: (ao3)

giliw ko (my dear) bybarefootindecember (ao3: 1, 2) (tumblr: 1, 2)

date by captivating-flavors: (tumblr)

Rafayel:

jealousy in the game by melkar: (ao3)

Intimations of Immortality by thyrd_pardie: (ao3)

When you suddenly wake up in Linkon City by irandial: (ao3) (tumblr)

heartbreak anniversary with rafayel by mephisto-reporting: (tumblr)

Fourth Wall by always-just-red: (tumblr)

Rafayel's Muse - MC Twin AU by lily-jaxk: (tumblr)

a blessed bond, broken by time by yuansie: (tumblr: 1, 2)

ocean memories by yuansie: (tumblr)

burning hearts by maddamoiselle: (tumblr)

Xavier:

Meet Me at the Edge of Time by oeggchi: (ao3)

three hours past midnight by savouringmidnights: (tumblr)

glass half full by shaiyasstuff: (tumblr)

we can't be friends by kitimeq: (ao3) (tumblr)

Multi

Insatiable by Aceecee: (ao3) (tumblr)

Fake by urlulugululueverythinggoessmoothulu: (a03)

Wildest dreams by tactfulao3: (ao3)

Cats & Deepspace by thxforthemmrs: (ao3)

on the sideline by rqyup: (tumblr)

they forget your anniversary by yeosatinyngz: (tumblr)

Hugs are Mandatory by whosashan: (tumblr)

Sneakyyy by whosashan: (tumblr)

Bitter by whosashan: (tumblr)

Borrowed Time by eelliotss: (tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4)

I am in love and deepshit by amethystheartsx: (tumblr: 1, 2)

tempatio by morningstarfirstsin: (tumblr) (ao3)

A Hymn to You by lapetitecafe: (ao3)

Chapter 22 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

“I’ll go ahead, Jinwoo,” you said softly, giving a brief nod to Adam White, the agent from the American Hunter Bureau. The man returned the gesture politely, professionalism etched into his features. You turned on your heels, already scanning the area for a secluded spot where you could teleport safely without attracting undue attention.

Before you could take more than a few steps, a hand gently but firmly grasped your left wrist. The contact stopped you mid-step, and you turned halfway, raising a brow in question.

“Jinwoo—” you started, but his expression stopped you before his words.

“Can you stay?” Jinwoo asked, his voice low, almost hesitant. His tone lacked its usual authority, replaced instead by something softer, almost… vulnerable. And so was his expression, the intensity in his grey eyes as they bore into yours, a quiet plea that he seemed unsure how you would respond to. It wasn’t an order or a casual suggestion—it was a genuine request. “Please.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the request coupled by the earnestness. His hand remained steady on your arm, his grip, while not forceful, neither was it loose.

Jinwoo was not someone who typically asked for anything, let alone in such a way.

You studied his face, weighing your options. Between the uncharacteristic pleading in his eyes, the whisper-soft quality of his voice, and his hold, it was clear he wouldn’t let go as easily as you would’ve liked. And you doubted it would be worth the trouble to try to convince him otherwise.

Still, seriously, of all the days I decide not to wear my mask, you internally lamented on your decision to forgo the subtle charm that helped mask your presence this time for the memorial service.

Despite your internal grumbling, you conceded with a sigh and allowed a small smile to grace your lips as you nodded.

“Alright.” you murmured, voice light.

At your response, Jinwoo’s neutral expression shifted ever so slightly—his features brightened in a way that was barely noticeable unless one was familiar with him. And unfortunately for you, you were.

Adam, meanwhile, shifted awkwardly on the sidelines. You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, suddenly remembering his presence, and felt a pang of sympathy for the agent. He must have felt incredibly out of place in this strange, silent exchange.

Adam cleared his throat, attempting to regain the momentum of the conversation. “Hunter Sung—”

Before he could finish, Jinwoo pulled you closer with a suddenness that caused you to stumble to his side. Your eyes widened slightly as his grip on your wrist slid to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Whatever it is you want to tell me,” Jinwoo said calmly, his tone now laced with that quiet authority, “you can tell her.”

You stared at him, lips parting as if to speak but no words came.

The words were simple enough, it wasn’t so much what he said that caught you off guard—it was how he said it. The conviction in his voice was startling, as if his trust in you was absolute, and his words left no room for argument.

You didn’t even have time to recover when Jinwoo glanced down at you, his lips curving into a faint, warm and confident smile.

“She’s someone I can count on,” he added, as if that explained everything.

Adam blinked, visibly thrown off by Jinwoo’s rather blunt declaration. His gaze flickered between the two of you. “Ah, my apologies,” Adam spoke carefully. “Are you two perhaps…?”

Your head snapped toward Adam so quickly that under normal circumstances, you’d have felt a pang of vertigo.

“No!” you blurted out, voice sharper than intended as heat crept up your neck. Quickly regaining your composure, you cleared your throat before continuing more evenly, “You’ve got it wrong, Mr. White. What my friend here meant is that I’m privy to his… rather unique capabilities as a Hunter, and that I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

You managed to keep your tone as steady as possible, ignoring the subtle tightening sensation on your hand somewhere along your choice of words.

Bless Adam White, because he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded politely, accepting your explanation without comment. “Understood. And please, call me Adam, Miss…?”

Adam stretched out his hand and you accepted it with a smile.

“(Name). Just (Name).”

---

After the conversation wrapped up, Adam escorted both of you to the car waiting nearby. As he excused himself to make a quick call—likely to inform his superiors about the additional “guest” accompanying Hunter Sung—you climbed into the back seat alongside Jinwoo.

It wasn’t until the car began moving that you realized: Jinwoo’s hand was still holding yours.

You glanced down at your entwined fingers, then up at him. Nudging his hand discreetly, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t respond, his face calm and composed as if your silent protests didn’t exist.

You tried again, nudging him a little more insistently. “Jinwoo,” you whispered, “Let go.”

Still, nothing. He remained as nonchalant as ever, his focus seemingly on the passing scenery outside the car window.

Eventually, you gave up, resigned to the situation as you leaned back against the seat. If Jinwoo noticed your surrender, he didn’t show it, though the faint curve of his lips suggested he was aware.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious under other’s occasional glances.

From his spot in the front seat, Adam’s eyes flicked toward the rearview mirror. His gaze lingered for a moment before quickly darting away. It was impossible not to, especially after he saw the way the S-ranker’s eyes glowed earlier when you’d referred to him as a “friend.”

Strangely, there was no intel about you, not any that Adam had received anyway. It was as if you went off the radar completely. But how was that possible, if you were this close to Hunter Sung Jinwoo?

The agent glanced between the two of you once or twice and wisely chose to remain silent.

The quiet hum of the engine filled the silence as Jinwoo sat beside you, his usual demeanor in place as if this casual intimacy was the most natural thing in the world. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel acutely aware of his presence.

The coolness of his hand, how calloused it was.

When his thumb brushed against your skin briefly—a motion so fleeting you almost convinced yourself it didn’t happen.

As the vehicle continue to move nearing your destination, you silently wondered why, despite of it all, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

---

Tis as you said, Mother.

Red’s voice echoed faintly in your mind, amusement dancing at the edges of her words.

She really does have them wrapped around her fingers!

You heard Trick’s giggles next, and the others joined in soon after. A cascade of light chimes in your head, each of them speaking in turn as they observed the woman named Norma Selner through your eyes. Their presence in your thoughts was both comforting and mildly distracting.

Norma, for her part, glanced in your direction briefly, likely sensing your gaze. You offered her a soft, unassuming smile and a polite nod. She returned the gesture before focusing her attention back on Jinwoo.

You mentally praised yourself, your children, and the system for the careful layering of enchantments that blanketed your nature so thoroughly. To fool someone like Norma Selner at first glance—someone with her unique gift—was no small feat.

Speaking of the system…

Are you going to intervene? The tone you used in your mind calm but probing. You know what she’s capable of, don’t you?

The response was silence. Not a sound, not a whisper. Nothing.

You sighed inwardly. Really, the empty reply didn’t surprise you. If the system had no objection, it meant the matter was left to you to handle. Typical.

---

Norma Selner was trapped in darkness.

It stretched infinitely in every direction, the pitch-black void with no sign of life. Nothing but an overwhelming emptiness. An endless abyss, where no light penetrated and no sound carried. The air was cold, almost biting, yet it felt weightless and suffocating all at once.

She turned frantically, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this oppressive nothingness.

Her breathing quickened as she tried to move, but the weight of the void pressed against her limbs, making her movements sluggish. Frantic, searching for something—anything—that could anchor her in this nothingness.

When her eyes drifted upward, she saw it.

A presence loomed above her, formless yet all-encompassing. Its gaze piercing and ancient, and it was staring back at her, dissecting her, peeling away every layer of her being.

It filled her with an indescribable, primal fear.

A scream clawed at her throat, but before she could release it, a faint glow fluttered at the edge of her vision.

A butterfly.

Delicate and luminous as it danced in the void. A tiny beacon, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness.

“Come with us!” chimed a chorus of soft, bell-like voices.

Her trembling legs moved on instinct, her body scrambling to follow the glittery trail left behind without a second thought.

The abyss seemed to shift as she ran, the oppressive darkness trailing after her, neither rushing nor retreating. Instead, it moved as though it were tethered to the guiding light.

The void began to change.

The darkness beneath her feet gave way to splashes of crimson, blooming into vivid red spider lilies, their petals stark against the blackness. With every step she took, the flowers spread further, their roots twisting into the emptiness and replacing it with something tangible.

Bare feet splashed into shallow water, the sound oddly grounding, sending ripples across its surface. She looked down, startled, to see the night sky reflected perfectly in the liquid mirror beneath her. Above her, stars shimmered like diamonds scattered across the vastness of space.

She came to a stop, breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. The butterfly of light had vanished, leaving her alone amidst the endless field of red flowers that seemed to sway with an unseen breeze. Gone with them the fear that had gripped her prior.

And then she felt it.

Warmth.

It radiated through her body and soul, soothing every nerve and easing every ounce of tension she carried, melting away like frost under the morning sun. She barely noticed as a pair of hands cradled her face gently, tilting it upward.

Norma found herself staring at a figure clad in flowing white. Under the veil, molten gold eyes met her own. They were luminous yet distant, like sunlight filtered through a mist. She couldn’t look away.

The figure exuded an aura of pure, untainted comfort. Norma felt her knees weaken under the weight of their presence, not from fear, but from an overwhelming sense of belonging.

“Wake up,” the figure mouthed, tender yet commanding.

Norma’s lips parted as if to respond, but she couldn’t form the words. Their warmth was intoxicating and she felt herself sinking into the divine embrace, wanting nothing more than to remain there. Forever.

But the words came again, firmer this time, like a gentle pull back to reality.

“Wake up.”

---

Norma Selner jolted awake, gasping for breath.

The fluorescent lights of the meeting room above her felt harsh against her eyes. It was also loud with commotion, voices overlapping as figures moved in her periphery, while she could barely process her surroundings. Everything felt distant and distorted.

“I apologize, Mr. Sung, Miss (Name),” came a calm yet firm voice. It was Michael Conner, the deputy director. His tone carried a measured mix of authority and unease. “Our agents stepped out of line.”

Words were exchanged, but Norma couldn’t register them. Her trembling hands clutched her head, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, though whether from fear or something else entirely, she couldn’t tell

The deputy director’s voice broke through again, this time directed at her.

“Mrs. Selner? What’s wrong?”

She blinked rapidly through her blurred vision, chest still heaving heavily.

“You’re sweating profusely,” Michael said, filled with concern. “Are you feeling ill?”

Norma tried to respond, but her throat felt dry, and her thoughts remained scattered.

“It seems Mrs. Selner isn’t feeling well today,” Michael added, his tone returned to professional and polite as he spoke to Jinwoo. “Can we contact you another time?”

“Wait.”

Somehow, Norma could single out that soft, melodic voice through the haze.

“I’m a healer. I can at least stabilize her condition, if you’ll allow me.”

Michael looked uncertain, but after a quick glance at Norma’s state, he nodded reluctantly. “Please, if you’re able to help her.”

You moved closer to the trembling woman, careful not to overwhelm her with sudden movements. Kneeling beside her, you gently placed your hands on either side of her face. She flinched at the contact, but the moment your magic flowed through her, she stilled.

Like sunlight breaking through clouds, warmth enveloped her once again, though it was softer, less overwhelming than—

Her breathing slowed, and the trembling in her limbs subsided.

Norma finally looked up, meeting your gaze.

“Y-you…” she croaked, her voice hoarse and weak.

“Shh,” you interrupted softly, your tone soothing. “Mrs. Selner, please focus on calming yourself first, alright? Everything else can wait.”

Though your voice was kind, there was a gentle finality to your words. Despite the comfort you exuded, Norma couldn’t shake the weight of something absolute—an unspoken order she had no choice but to obey.

Her lips pressed together in silent compliance as she nodded faintly, allowing herself to bask in the warmth of your touch a moment longer.

---

"My..."

It was faint, distant yet heavy, reverberating with its own brand resonance, an echo from the depths of the pitch-black void.

"My...Lord..."

There it was again—the voice that whispered the moment you connected your space with Norma Selner’s consciousness, delving into the depths of her mind and subsequently brushing against something far older, far darker.

The first time, you stiffened at the sound, not out of fear but from recognition. There was something achingly familiar in the tone, something that resonated deep within you.

"Is…that...you…?"

As you stood at the border, the voice echoed again, closer this time, yet wavering, tinged with denial and something akin to long-lost longing.

"Impos...sible..."

You didn’t move to retreat as shadowy wisps emerged from the abyss, curling outward like hands reaching for you. They stopped mere inches from your form, and it was hard to make out through the ever-changing smoke, but you had a feeling that they were trembling, as if afraid their touch would break the illusion. Or was it unsure of their welcome?

There was a battle in your mind, with two opposing sides.

You should have been alarmed; the situation was rife with danger, uncertainty, and countless unknowns. Yet, you didn’t fully understand why, but you felt no fear. Something in you—a quiet yet inexplicable confidence—assured you that whatever dwelled in this darkness would not harm you.

And so, following the feeling you couldn’t name and ignoring the flicker of logic warning you against it, you raised your hands.

Your palms pressed gently against the shadowy wisps. The tendrils were both intangible and tangible; past the ephemeral smoke, ethereal to the touch, was cold as metal. They quivered at your gesture but didn’t pull away as you slowly guided them to your face, resting their hard edges against your cheeks.

The icy touch reminded you of a certain raven-haired protagonist. You closed your eyes, welcoming their hesitant presence with calm serenity.

"You...are...not..."

The voice grew clearer, imbued with an unplaceable mix of awe and turmoil.

"How...?"

You opened your eyes then, gazing into the abyss with a tenderness that seemed to soften even the restless darkness starting to embrace you whole in accordance to the crumbling space behind you.

You asked, your voice calm, serene.

“Are you upset?”

There was a pause, the silence stretching, until the shadowy thumb brushed against your cheek. Its sharp edges moving with the utmost care, as though they feared leaving a mark on your skin.

"No."

The answer came at last, heavy with an emotion you couldn’t quite identify.

"I...do…not...know..."

“Then,” you began, your voice unwavering as you continue to cradle his hands in yours.

“Will you let me see you again soon?”

---

After stabilizing Norma Selner’s condition and ensuring she was in no immediate danger, you and Jinwoo were escorted to his car.

As Adam’s car disappeared down the street, Jinwoo was the first to speak.

“Is it really okay?” his tone measured, though his gaze was sharp as he watched you. “Showing your powers to her like that.”

Your eyes remained on the direction the agent’s vehicle had gone, a butterfly trailed discreetly behind it. Jinwoo spotted the second one you had planted on Norma Selner earlier, fluttering innocuously on her shoulder.

“She only saw a glimpse,” you answered smoothly. “Besides, there’s no point in hiding from someone like her. She’ll find out sooner than later, and I’d rather she learn under my terms.”

Jinwoo’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she’s truly capable of?”

You finally turned to him; your expression as unreadable as they were distant. “Yes.”

“So, I’m guessing it’s a fail?”

You gave him a flat look before answering. “Your powers have no limits, Jinwoo. Her abilities won’t work on you.”

Jinwoo absorbed that information in silence, then added, “Or on you.”

You didn’t confirm or deny it, only staring back at him with an inscrutable gaze.

Between the two of you, this was familiar by now, an indication that this was as far as you could tell him, as far as the system would let you anyway. There was no need for words, and Jinwoo could proudly say that he could take it with a stride now.

He gestured to his car.

“Let me drive you home,” Before you could decline, he added, “I want to talk to you.”

---

The car ride was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the space between you. You sat in the front passenger seat, your gaze wandering on the passing scenery outside the window, where other vehicles blur by.

“So,” you began, breaking the quiet, “what is it?”

Jinwoo tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“It’s overdue, I owe you an apology,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation. “For back then—at my rank re-evaluation.”

He heard a soft sigh and Jinwoo snuck a quick glance as you shifted in your seat. You were looking straight ahead now, expression still hard to read.

“I should’ve been more careful,” he continued, the words spilling out faster now, tinged with regret. “You told me before, that you wanted to stay hidden, and I should’ve respected that. I admit I got…distracted. Too caught up in wanting to show you how far I’d come. But that’s no excuse for crossing your boundaries like that.”

He took a deep breath before adding, “I’m sorry.”

“Jinwoo…” Your voice was too quiet. He wondered if he somehow messed up again.

“I’m sorry too.”

That was the last thing Jinwoo expected to hear. His grip on the steering wheel momentarily loosening as he caught himself. He shot you a quick glance a second time before returning his eyes to the road.

 “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t—”

“I was high-strung that day,” you cut him off gently, probably already anticipating his protest. “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I forgive you. Just…” You paused, turning to look at him. “Just tell me in advance next time you’re planning to pull something like that. Clearly.” You emphasized, though your gaze softened.

“Like when you wanted me to accompany you in meeting the U.S. Hunter Bureau just now.”

The road was mercifully empty as Jinwoo risked another glance at you, and the sight of your expression made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

“Thank you for that.”

The setting sun illuminated your face as you said it sincerely. The way your eyes shine with unmistakable fondness, expression warm and tender. The shy smile tugging at your lips, carrying an undeniable gentleness. Your unwavering attention. All of it—at this moment—directed solely at him.

How utterly lovely.

Jinwoo’s throat felt dry, and he quickly looked back at the road.

“R-right. You’re welcome. I mean—” He stumbled over his words, the tips of his ears burned. “I forgive you too…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your shoulders shaking slightly as you covered your mouth. Failing to prevent a few giggle that managed to slip by.

Jinwoo felt heated up—the warmth a similar kind to when you held hands or when you were in pretty close proximity—and he had half a mind to crank up the AC.

Still, he couldn’t help the giddiness. Because in that moment, he didn’t mind embarrassing himself if it meant hearing your sweet laughter again.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [28/11/2024] -

I want to ask for your opinions this time 🙏

🎀 nsfw X links 🎀

♡ Caleb nsfw links ! install X so u can view the links ! ♡

🍎 • he finally have you and he will show his love for you

🍎 • he's such a good boyfriend, making and feeding u your favorite meals! surely you'll let him have his fill aswell, eating you like a starved man

🍎 • "it won't fit Caleb!" just lay there and take him like a good girl and he will show u how deep you can take!

🍎 • everybody just keep getting on his nerves today! and what's better stress relief fucking his favorite girl~!

🍎 • netflix and chill is always the best!

🍎 • he loves kissing you! sweet forehead kiss, cheeky cheek kisses, love lip kisses and of course cute cunny kisses

🍎 • Caleb is possesive and will claim every part of you ♡ even your other little hole

🍎 • you're just so loud that Caleb has to gag and tied you! you don't want grandma to see you having sex with him right?

🍎 • ripping up your cute panties like it's a gift wrap

🍎 • you better grip the headboard tightly while Colonel Caleb is pounding you without mercy

🍎 • your so beautiful swollen with his child and nothing is sweeter than your breastmilk

🍎 • swear your back is about to snap with how in every position he wanna kiss you! but he will just massage it after!

Masterlist

Just a warning, everything is probably out of order + my first masterlist so PLEASE be patient with me

also my asks are open and appreciated !!

Bug Like Angel

neglectful batfam x spider!reader + spiderverse

P1 P2 P3 P4 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P4.5 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10

Show☆Time

neglectful batfam x emu!reader + pjsk

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6

the fridge drawings (FANART!!)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

anons:

🦦, meow meow, 🍰, 🫴🧠, 🪽,🦋, 🍧, yeet

chuuya twitter links / visuals <3

notices: fem bodied reader. make sure to log in to twitter ! part 2 here.

chuuya fucking loves making you squirt. maybe a little too much.

he's absolutely astonished each time you wear one of his shirts.

this is so chuu justttt. augh.

best "good morning" you could even give him.

he really just doesn't want you to get too handy again when he wants to do this all night long.

chuuya after you'd asked him why would he need a full body length mirror. that's precisely why.

just him n your tits communicating.

he bought the softest and most expensive mattress just for this.

let's all agree, chuuya's a certified ass lover.

i can't imagine anyone but chuuya like this. just so him.

soft chuu for life !

you're still working even on your phone and he just wants you to forget about work when he's there.

he's been pissed all day at work and this is what he does after coming home instead of punching a wall.

i feel like he would love to finger you just so much.

special treatment for your perfect thighs.

moral support n comfort in times when he gets a bit ahead of himself.

again, so chuuya core. 101% him.

dazai part / fyodor part.

Imagine #1

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW: Implied Yandere (If you squint), mild grotesque imaginary of killing a magic beast

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

This is now officially a series! You can check "Trial Player AU" here: [Masterlist🦋✨️]

You never imagined your life would take such a drastic turn. One moment, you were typing away on your laptop, and the next, you found yourself in a universe where Hunters, dungeons, and magic were the norm.

As a casual fan of the manhwa, you were more than familiar with the storyline and its characters. But this was real, painfully real, and your heart raced in your chest as you tried to make sense of it all.

Isekai'd into the world of Solo Leveling was unexpected, but this?

This was even more bizarre.

___

Isekai stories were meant to be fun. A fresh start in a different world with cool powers and thrilling adventures, right?

[Congratulations!

You have been selected by the System for an exclusive test run.]

The first time you saw that message, you had no idea what it meant. But after receiving a few more cryptic messages and nearly dying in a lower-rank dungeon?

You would be foolish if continue that thought.

You weren’t just dropped into this world—you were the 'Trial Player'. A glitch, a test subject for the system before it latched onto its true player.

It sounded like a game, a brief test before things returned to normal.

Except now you’re stuck.

___

You didn’t want to interfere, to change the storyline you knew too well.

The system gave you powers once you started leveling up.

Since you weren’t a fighter by nature, learning how to defend yourself have been a whole other story. Healing however, had come to you almost too naturally. You were rather fortunate (or is it unfortunate?) in that regard, as you discovered early on that your specialized ability was more… versatile, than it seemed.

Simply put, they were dual-edged.

Healing and harming were two sides of the same coin—just a matter of intent.

You could heal yourself and allies just fine, but with enemies? The same touch that mended could also cause harm.

A giant serpent once learned that the hard way.

___

The cold wind brushed against your face as you stared down at the monstrous serpent writhing in its final throes. You hadn’t meant to do it that way—honestly, it was an accident.

You had only wanted to defend yourself, yet in an act of panic, you had somehow amplified the beast's venom glands, forcing it to produce venom at an uncontrollable rate to the point of overloading its own internal organs.

The monster literally drowned in its own deadly concoction.

As the hissing faded, you watched with wide eyes as the giant serpent collapsed, dead. A familiar notification dinged in the corner of your vision.

[Congratulations!

You have successfully defeated a C-Rank Venom Serpent!]

The cheerful tone that rang in your ears was far too enthusiastic for your liking.

[System will now place Blue Venom-Fanged Kasaka in its place.]

You let out a shaky breath, still in shock.

[You have just proven yourself to be quite entertaining,

Trial Player (Name)_

Shall we continue with more interesting challenges?]

What the hell just happened?

___

From the start, you’d made the decision to stay under the radar.

At first, it was overwhelming.

The system's notifications, the power you gained with each step, and the dangerous world you were thrust into were enough to make anyone completely lost their mind.

But, despite the insanity of your new reality, you had to admit you’d adapted rather well.

From that day forward, the system acted more like a mischievous partner than a mere overseer.

In fact, the system had seemed delighted by your attempts to remain discreet, since it was more than willing to help you falsify your ranking, allowing you to masquerade as a mere C-rank. Not that you cared much about rankings, but blending in was important, especially since you knew what was coming. You didn't want to stand out when the real chaos began.

The system had its reasons, no doubt, but you didn’t question it. As long as it kept your secret and allowed you to survive without drawing too much attention, you were content.

With your knowledge of the Solo Leveling storyline—albeit you still need to fill in some gaps in your memory here and there—you avoided changing the narrative too much. However, when it came to the protagonist, you found it difficult to completely stay away.

As a fan, you already knew what hardships awaited him, and as much as you tried not to interfere, your heart ached terribly seeing him suffer through his early days as an E-rank hunter.

Even knowing he’d become the world’s strongest eventually, you still found yourself lessening his burden.

You weren’t trying to change anything significant—just minor things. Healing him faster when he was injured and unconscious after dangerous raids, anonymously covering some of his mother's medical bills, leaving useful items at his doorstep. All of it was done behind the curtain, leaving no trace.

You kept your distance; each act was a silent tribute to a hero you believed deserved better.

Or maybe, it was because you saw something in him that reminded you of your own struggle—your own loneliness in this strange world.

After all, this wasn’t your story. It was his.

___

You vowed not to meddle in the timeline.

That was to say, you had no intention of getting involved in the main storyline.

So, when the time came for him to finally accept the system’s offer and became the player, the trial period for you ended.

The screens pop-ups ceased.

The missions vanished.

The system had gone silent.

You could finally step back, let him take the reins. You could enjoy the world for yourself, live your life in this reality.

Or so you thought.

___

It was supposed to be a quiet day, just like any other.

You found yourself wandering through a familiar street in Seoul, lost in thought.

You weren’t sure what it was that tipped you off—the weight of someone’s gaze on your back, perhaps—but when you turned around, your breath hitched.

Gaze locked in with sharp, glowing blue.

And a familiar chirp in your mind, as smug as ever.

[Fancy meeting you here,

Trial Player (Name)_ ]

Damnit, you sly—!

"‘Trial Player’, huh?"

You clenched your fists and bit your lip as his voice cut through your inner turmoil.

Stormy hues, and ebony locks that looked too fluffy not to touch.

Taller, and his voice deeper than the last time you heard him.

There was no way you could mistake him for someone else.

There was no way you could forget him.

Sung Jinwoo

The system hummed in amusement behind him, oddly pleased with itself.

A screen flickered in your periphery.

[Dear Trial Player, (Name)_

Be careful not to spill your secret to Player Sung Jinwoo,

else you may find the penalty quite costly.]

Playful, yet the warning echoed in your mind.

You had no idea what the system’s penalty might be, and you weren’t eager to find out.

“I’ve been wondering about the mysterious healer who’s been helping me. I guess I have my answer now.”

Calm, that tone of his was way too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt your stomach drop. How much did he know? How long had he suspected—

“Don’t look so surprised,” Jinwoo continued with a chuckle, a small, dangerous tilt playing on his lips, “The system can be… revealing at times.”

The insufferable chirps like giggles in your ear following his statement made it clear—there was no escape now.

Sung Jinwoo knew, or at least, he knew enough.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” Jinwoo said, stepping closer.

You instinctively took a step back.

"Join my party."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat instead.

“What?"

“I want you to join me,”

Jinwoo repeated with the same exact tone, as if that one sentence was enough for your mind to grasp at—whatever situation this had spiral to be.

Your brain scrambled for an answer. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. “I prefer staying out of the spotlight,” you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jinwoo leaned in slightly, his expression unreadable. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think I’m going to let that happen.”

The system pinged again.

[Player Sung Jinwoo has extended a party invitation.]

“I didn’t agree to—”

The screen popped up again.

[Trial Player cannot refuse this invitation.]

You blinked at the screen, then at him.

Jinwoo kept his eyes on you—glowing in that beautiful, beautiful blue—practically daring you to refuse.

You felt trapped.

___

And that was how you found yourself reluctantly dragged into Sung Jinwoo’s (formerly solo) party.

You were supposed to be a background character at most, but now you were standing beside the future strongest hunter, going on raids, facing dungeon bosses, and… spending far too much time with him outside of said raids.

You don’t know why, but outside of dungeons were even worse. Jinwoo seemed to find excuses to be around you, despite your best efforts to avoid him. Whether it was casual visits to the same cafés you frequented or crossing paths in the market, he always seemed to be there at every turn. It was unsettling how often his gaze lingered on you, as if he was trying to unravel the very essence that made you, you.

Persistent, relentless, and far too observant for your liking. Jinwoo followed you, making sure you never slipped away, sticking close like your own personal shadow.

You might have laughed at the irony, if you were not the center of his attention.

Sung Jinwoo refused to leave you alone.

You weren't sure how he'd managed to pull you into his orbit, but he had, and now you were stuck in the very story you were trying to avoid.

A soft laugh; a rare sound that made your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, My Healer.”

___

"Oh, what have I gotten myself into..." you muttered under your breath, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on you.

The system chimed in, always and without fail, far too gleeful for your liking.

[What indeed, Trial Player?

What indeed.]

You really, really, want to kick this damned system to space.

End Note:

Finally, I can sleep now...

Every related imagines I post after this WILL NOT follow any particular/chronological order.

the party walkers

self insert .✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* school bus graveyard

words: 2.21k

next part: a rescue mission

note: hot minute, hey guys, this is my first time writing for school bus graveyard! currently, it's probably my favorite webtoon (that being said, all my other favorites are on hiatus, so, yk. that's that.) if you followed me for genshin one shots, I just wanna let you know I'm NOT gonna stop writing them, permanently at least. I haven't been able to fixate on genshin for a bit because the app is too big for my phone and trying to play on my computer kills me inside. hope you enjoy, also things prooobably aren't gonna be perfect, lol, I'm going off memory of the first chapter/s

content: self insert for sbc, uh, go read that first, I don't think I'll end up including anything (at least, not here) that needs extra trigger warnings. long term, it's a tyler x reader, maybe, idk, but regardless I don't plan on starting that for a bit.

i. a demon inside of my skin

you hadn't been in "the room where it happened", so to speak. actually, you didn't know what everyone else was dealing with for about a week after savannah, because you thought you were having batshit crazy nightmares! your hotel room was a good bit further away from everyone else's that first night, and after making a run for it into a room and barricading yourself in, you thought that would be the end of it. everyone did, didn't they?

and then, you went home. warm bed, soft blanket, box fan running in the background while you scrolled through various social media apps. it was nearing midnight, but that wasn't new for you. the early morning hours were your friend, the moon a sibling by your teenage years. not unique, sure, but that was the reality of that situation. a small shiver tickles your spine as you remember the night mare last night brought you, your fingertips ghosting the spot on your knuckle where you had banged it and broken your finger in that dream. it was even sore when you woke up. sometimes, nightmares were like that though. sometimes people woke up gasping for air after drowning in their sleep, or craving cigars after being a smoker in their dreams. sore knuckles weren't that far off.

it was like a flash; one moment, you were watching a college aged blonde talk about the type of oils she used for her long, silky, soft hair, and the next, the sky from out your window was a bleeding carmine. there was a loud silence, no wind, no rain, no box fan or phone.

then, again, you heard it. click, click, click. chatter, chatter, chatter. okay. cool. another nightmare. fun and fantastic.

shooting out of your sheets, your index finger throbbed, sparing a second and glancing at it revealed purple spots upon green bruises splotched along your hand. curling your finger inward hurt, but was possible. making a fist around your blanket, you threw it as hard as possible off of you, hoping to distract whatever was making the noise. it did not have the desired affect, and flew a couple feet before expanding and landing softly on the floor. that didn't matter, you were already on your feet and they were thudding to your door before you were aware of what was going on, scrambling on the carpet of your bedroom as you heard skitter like movements from where your eyes couldn't catch the gray, uncanny human-like figure making its way toward you on all fours. it was fast. way, way too fast. the undignified squeal you released as you yanked open your door turned into a gravelly scream of both terror and agony when you slid through, slamming the door shut before you, a blackened finger along with it. it didn't fall to the floor, but instead was hanging painfully out of your back, right under your shoulder blade. like a when a plank of wood splinters, but has enough fibers to hang off and out of the main piece and bobs back and forth. except you're not a piece of wood, and you have to not scream right now.

you feel nausea drinking its way into your chest, but adrenaline pushes it to a back burner as a need to survive pulses in your brain. grabbing a random shoe, a picture frame from off the wall, and a small ball which were left on the floor earlier, you throw them in another direction and hope it sounds enough like footsteps that when you get into the bathroom, whatever that thing is doesn't try to follow you in there.

the balls of your feet aren't much quieter than your whole foot, but they'll have to do as you nearly slam the bathroom door, stop yourself in the knick of time to edge it closed instead, and lock it. for the first time in your entire life, you internally thank your parents that you didn't get that house with the skylight in the bathroom.

now, you hold your breath. the creaking of the floors beneath your cheap carpet tells you that that thing, that monster, that whatever-it-is, is passing by. your fingers shake as you cover your mouth with one hand, the other cupping your nose as you try desperately to slow and quiet your breathing. unfortunately, the racing of your heart isn't helping, and neither is the recognition of that wound that craved up your back so nicely. again, your stomach turns. you don't have time to deal with that right now, even if you can feel blood dripping down your back and throbbing which matches your heartbeat.

click, click, thump, thump. the shadow from the light outside darkens, two fuzzy shadows before the door. silence. praying.

click, click. click. it slowly, slowly, drags its hideous feet away from the door.

you can't breathe for another minute, and the instant you do, it comes out as a heave. your eyes go wide as you scramble toward the bathtub, making it just in time to spill your guts. after emptying your stomach, you pull away with watery eyes and a raw throat, coughing a couple times. you feel a little bit better, as you usually do after throwing up, but that won't last. also, you need water, and that means looking in the mirror if you don't wanna be loud. but for right now, you just need to lay down for a moment. just breathe. you're so, so light headed. you had only just woken up, and this all felt so real. the pain in your hand and in your back. the scratchy stinging you feel up your esophagus. the exhaustion pawing under your eyes as you start to lean backward;

except, you can't, and when you try that, you only shoot straight up and nearly puke all over again. thankfully, this time, the finger actually falls out of your back.

"𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯."

you can reach the majority of the wound if you really reach. it won't be perfect, but you should be able to get it properly clean and bandaged with the first aid kit your family keeps in the bathroom. you don't really know how to clean a wound this big, though. will you need stitches? the only real way to know is to look at it, even if you aren't really ready to do so.

"𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘪𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭."

the thought came to you before you even moved from your spot on the floor. oh, yeah. that's right. you're asleep.

...

huh. most dreams feel a little more, don't know. dreamy?? if this is a dream, candy is going to start raining from the sky right now.

right now. here.

𝘯𝘰𝘸, you think, looking up at the ceiling half heartedly. alright, if this was a nightmare, it was a really weird horrible one. and also, you'd rather not push your luck at this point. so, mirror it is. ignoring the pit of panic welling in your chest, you push yourself to your feet, and tip toe to the kitchen sink. you stare at the faucet, and then force your eyes upward. your hair is frazzled, and there are white specks along the corners of your mouth. and then, you turn around. your jaw tightens when you see the open wound, your nightshirt torn open and revealing tattered, aggressive flesh beneath it. that thing probably cut you to the bone. hopefully, because there is in fact a bone there, it didn't hit any organs. you can breathe fine, so your lung didn't seem all too punctured. it's just ugly. ugly and painful.

cleaning it is the first step, and you're just thankful that despite the fact that you stupidly, stupidly, stupidly dumped isopropyl alcohol onto it in hopes of doing so (for a second, before the burning, you felt a little uncomfortable. and then it hit, you nearly cracked your tooth from biting down so hard), it's over with.

a week later, you find yourself in class, rubbing sleepiness from your eyes. so, long story short, that wasn't a dream, and something is horribly wrong. you waking up to a long scab running down your shoulder blade told you that much. and things were about to get a lot worse. in the real world, that is.

"sir, please. they do literally nothing. they just sit there all spaced out, rubbing their eyes. it's like they aren't even trying for this project!" brandy, your classmate begs in a hushed tone. as annoying as the brunette could be at times, she wasn't wrong. a pang in your chest as you think of possibly making it so that the other members of your group protect fail because you are too tired to do your part. god, sorry brenda, you're too busy trying to huddle up in a bathroom all night and take care of a wound that isn't healing for some reason, all while praying that the thing that chased you in there and will probably kill you, doesn't murder you. but she's still not wrong. and it isn't like she knows that, because you have something seriously wrong with you. it's not her fault, and she shouldn't have to pay for you being crazy.

"mr. thomas," you quietly call, rubbing your elbow uncomfortably as you stare at the floor. you can see brandy pause from the corner of your eye, and you think there's even a sorry expression on her face. even if she was annoying, she clearly hadn't thought you heard that. and she had a right to be upset.

"I would like to change groups, if, um, possible."

there's a pause, and from your peripheral view, you can see your teacher and classmate motioning at each other, her probably trying to convince him to let you do so. a small thump, and then a sigh. "alright. I'm going to put you with ashlyn's group. "

as a redhead from across the room pops up and looks around, mr. thomas looks through a few pieces of paper, crossing something off with his pen. he didn't say it out loud, and frankly, he didn't have to. that was the group in the class that was also failing, so, you being in it wouldn't have much of an impact anyway. at least you wouldn't sink the whole ship all by yourself. was it smart, as a teacher? no. he probably should have put you with a tutor or something. looking up at mr. thomas as you nod and collect your things from your desk reveals an, in fact, apologetic eyed brandy. she mouths a "thank you", and you nod in return. you would drag your chair to their little group later, first, you should go introduce yourself, and hope they don't kick you out.

the bright blonde of the group catches you with his eyes before anyone else. you can hear him say something, and the rest of them stop talking and turn to look at you as you awkwardly walk over. their eyes are so piercing, it's making you uncomfortable.

"can we help you?" a brunette asks, tilting her head up to look at you. her tone carries no malice, just curiosity. makes you feel a little bit better.

"I'm so sorry to ask this, if you guys don't want me in your project I'll go ask if I can be alone or join another group or something, it's not a big deal. I'm having issues with my part of the project, and it's affecting everyone else's work in my group. so they were wondering if I could join in with you guys."

they all share a really weird look with each other, like they're talking telepathically or something. a tense moment passes, and two members speak up at the same time.

"yeah sure lol."

"fuck no."

"tyler! be nice! besides, we probably need someone who actually knows what's going on in this class!"

"didn't she just say she was having issues with her work? it's not like she's going to add much."

"to be fair, I don't think any of us are doing all too great on the work anyway."

you feel the need to clarify, mainly to get this over with. "I'm not really having trouble with the work. I'm just not doing it. I'm having sleeping issues, again, not a big deal if you don't want me to join."

they all stop, and look at you again. the redheaded one narrows her eyes, letting the braid she was messing with fall to her lap. her and the boy next to the brunette girl who asked you a question - actually, now that you're up close and looking at him, that looks like one of the boys on the baseball team. didn't she call him tyler? like tyler hernandez? huh. you didn't even realize you guys shared this class.

"what kind of nightmares have you been having?" the blonde asks, looking at who you're starting to assume is ashlyn. they have a staring contest of sorts while you start to answer. "oh, just weird ones. like, ones with monsters... and stuff..."

you didn't say anything about nightmares.

he looks at you again, a cat like grin on his face. "I think you should sit down. "

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

next part: a rescue mission

Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part One

Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader

Parts -> Part One | Part Two

Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.

A/N -> Guys this shit is just sad icl I need to lay off the sad songs... anyways, reader is not MC but MC is mentioned I called her 'Miss Hunter' or 'MC' bc I couldn't come up with a name, sorry.

EDIT: Thanks for all the love <33333 I honestly didn’t expect so many people to want a part two, I promise it’s in the works and I’ll try to get it out ASAP.

Trigger Warnings -> Death mentioned, heart issues mentioned.

Word Count -> 7.3K

“I’m sorry, what?” The question slipped out of your lips without much of an attempt from your brain to restrain it. You regretted that instantly.

“Watch your tone, Y/N.” The scarily low timbre in Sylus’s voice threatened retribution if you didn’t.

“Sorry… It’s just that— are you sure? I feel like this is a decision that requires a little bit more contemplation. Like getting a dog!” You tried to backpedal, but from the look of Sylus’s narrowing eyes, he wasn’t happy with your response. 

“Are you comparing her to a dog?” There was a threat thinly encased in Sylus’s question and under the thick layers of fear, you felt the slightest pang of jealousy that the he felt so strongly about defending her honour. 

What a dramatic and far-fetched conclusion. You wanted to say, but instead you bit your tongue. 

“N-No! Of course not. Not at all. I’m just wondering if wiring her such a significant sum from your equity account is a good idea when you met her—” You make a show of glancing at your shabby watch “— 13 hours ago is a sound decision.”

“So you’re questioning my judgement? Is that it?” 

You couldn’t blame him for being difficult, you walked right into that one. 

“No! Well… yes?” One would think that after two years of working for Sylus, you’d have the ability to stand your ground against him. But there was only so far someone could push a man like Sylus before he deemed you irredeemable. The consequence of which involved a hollow point in your skull. 

“Wrong answer. Wire it. Now. I’ll deal with your insubordination later.” He quickly left the room that doubled as your ‘office’; you shared it with the twins who liked to use it as their reprieve from crime. You wouldn’t have minded had they chosen less rambunctious ways of cooling-down, like reading or watching a show. Instead they’d play-fight, actually fight, play video games on the loudest volume or — the worst option of all — karaoke. 

The sarcastic yes sir died on your tongue as quickly as it crossed your mind. You pissed him off far more than usual today, and he was already way more tense since her arrival. 

Miss Hunter. Sylus kept her first name under lock-and-key, said it was safer that way. You barely caught a glimpse of her as Sylus dragged her out of his office, which was across from yours. From the glimpse you did catch, she was beautiful. Fair skin, jet black hair, a fit body. Her outfit, which was the Hunter’s Association standard issue uniform, had never looked so good. 

From what you knew from shameless eavesdropping, she was extremely important to Sylus. She was part of some critical master plan you weren’t privy to. 

You hated her.

Albeit, completely unfounded, your hatred for her stemmed from an ugly feeling you could not shake. In the two years you worked as an accountant for Onychinus, Sylus touched you once. Correction, you touched him once accidentally when you had too much to drink with the twins after work. You were taking careful steps to the bar to pour yourself another glass of a gross vodka raspberry mixture when you tripped on the edge of one of Sylus’s extremely expensive rugs. Your feet pedalled forward in an attempt to keep you upright, and you clashed right into Sylus who was innocently scrolling through his phone on the wall next to the bar. 

You could recall the fear you felt vividly. You almost felt the same wedge lodged in your throat. Sylus quickly removed you from him, steadying you with his cold palms on your shoulders (an action that made you blush like a schoolgirl) before verbally deeming you cut-off from all liquor from the night.

That was the full extent of all physical contact you’d had with Sylus in two whole years, meanwhile it took Miss Hunter less than 24-hours before he was holding her hand. God, you hated her.

“Oi, Y/N, we’re using the company card for lunch today.” Luke quickly yelled out to you from the hallway, too engrossed in your self-loathing and plain old regular loathing, you forgot to remind Luke that they only had $40 left on their weekly lunch budget. 

Knowing the twins, they wouldn’t have cared anyway, creating yet another problem you had to fix.

Looking at the excel sheet that contained this month’s trial balance, you shivered at the thought of having to deal with Sylus’s wrath at yet another monthly increase in expenses. So, you shifted the remaining balance on your lunch budget, a generous $255, into the twin’s joint account. It was only Thursday morning, and they’d managed to max-out their $1000 budget. 

You hated them too.

You looked through your drawer in hopes you had a leftover snack that could sadly double as your lunch and felt a wave of relief at the sight of a protein bar. 

It wasn’t like Sylus didn’t pay you enough to afford your own lunch, in fact he was the most generous employer you’d ever had. But the only thing bigger than his bank account was corporate greed, and the blood-sucking heathens at Akso hospital were milking you dry.

Life in the N109 Zone wasn’t easy for most people, especially your mother who raised you all on her own after your father left. She worked 3 jobs to put you through university in Linkon, so the least you could do was use every last cent you made on ensuring she had the best medical treatment money could buy. 

Your mother had a bad heart ever since she was born, it was a hereditary condition that would sometimes skip a generation only to show up in the next. She had an atrial septal defect, or in another words, a hole in her heart. You were born with one too, although yours was much smaller. She’d undergone several surgeries to repair the hole, but it reopened, and now the scar tissue surrounding the surgical site was obstructing her arteries. She was now on bypass patiently awaiting a heart transplant you couldn’t quite afford, but you’d make it happen. You were sure of it. 

With half the protein bar in your mouth, you began to call Dr Zayne, the cardiovascular surgeon who was overseeing your mother’s care. You called him for updates on your mother and the transplant list every day, since a train ticket to Linkon was too big an expense to justify, you’d settle for Dr Zayne’s cold recollections of your mother’s heart function. 

“Ah, Miss L/N, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call today.” The dead-pan sarcasm dripped from his tone. 

“Your bedside manner needs serious work.” You bit back. You weren’t sure when or how your relationship with your mother’s doctor turned so hostile, but you figured the busy chief of surgery was annoyed by your constant calls. 

“Need I remind you, Y/N, you’re not the patient.” 

“There isn’t a waking second I’m not thinking about the patient, Dr Zayne.” 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air at your confession. You didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, in all honesty, you looked forward to the banter before the updates on your mom, it helped ease the nerves. 

“Do you want to see her?”

“Of course, but I’m working a lot.”

“No, I mean right now.”

“Are you finally letting me borrow the hospital helicopter?”

“No, but I will let you borrow my phone so you can FaceTime her.”

His kind offer caught you off guard. “Really?!”

“Sure, you caught me in a rare moment where I don’t have someplace to be.”

“It must be Christmas.”

“Rarer than Christmas. Think solar eclipse.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Now give me my mother.”

Zayne kept his promise, and you spoke to your mother for your entire lunch break, and then some. You would’ve continued talking to her until the sunset if not for Sylus’s interruption. 

“I don’t pay you to FaceTime your friends, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later. I love you!” Your mother rasped out that she loved you too before you quickly hung up the phone. 

“Sorry.” Your apology fell on deaf ears as Sylus took slow, deliberate steps toward your desk. 

“Do you hate this job?” Sylus’s asked this deceivingly innocuous question while sliding a finger across the mahogany tabletop. 

“Um… no?” You placed your hands in your lap as you answered to hide the slight tremor. 

“You sound unsure.” 

“I like this job very much.” You made the declaration with as much confidence as you could muster. Your mood was already depleted from seeing your mother’s sick face for the first time in months. She wasn’t looking any healthier, and Zayne told you she’d barely moved up the list. 

107. There were 107 people who’s lives were more important than the woman who raised you. You were well aware that wasn’t the way they calculated the metric, but it didn’t make the number hurt any less. 

Sylus let out an sigh that suggested whatever he’d say next was a much tamer version of what he truly wanted to say. “Then I’d suggest you start acting like it. Remember, sweetheart, everyone’s replaceable. Especially you.” 

His comment stung like antiseptic on an open wound, though you were sure that was his intention. 

“Right. Of course. I won’t let you down.” 

“For your sake, I hope not. The twins told me they went to that seafood buffet for lunch, you haven’t let them go over the budget again, have you?” 

You quickly pulled up the online banking account connected to the company card. You saw the $189.95 charge for the seafood buffet and swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“Nope, it’s all dandy.” You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. He noticed. 

“Good. You wire that money like I asked?” The venom in his tone alleviated, and you were glad at least one thing seemed to have worked out for you that day. 

But alas, your joy was short-lived.

“Yes, an hour ago, but it’s still processing until you put in your access code.” You moved away from the computer to give him room to step around and put in the code like he usually did. However, his feet never moved from their position in front of your desk.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Just like that, his voice was all venom again. 

You were beginning to grow agitated with his misplaced anger constantly being taken out on you. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d tear into you like a bear would a boxing bag and then act like everything was fine the next day. You never got an apology, you knew not to expect one. 

But lately these fits of unbridled rage came about more often than not, and Sylus took a shovel to your mole hill of resolve every time. 

“I always need your access code on transfers over $500,000. I’ve never told you before, I just assumed—” 

“Are you stupid?” You didn’t bother answering the mean rhetorical question. “What about this transaction seemed usual to you? Did I not convey my urgency effectively earlier? Or are there rocks where your brain should be?” His voice never went up in volume, but you could tell he was angry. Livid even. Seething with fury at your supposed incompetence. 

Your eyes welled up with tears at his outburst. Normally you could take whatever insults he’d throw at you with little outward reaction, but you were particularly sensitive from the sandwich-shaped hole in your stomach, and the maternal hole in your heart which ached every second, reminding you of the much bigger one your mother bore.

Before you could stop it, a tear rolled down your cheek, and the second you registered the sensation you quickly went to wipe it. 

“Stop crying.” Sylus ordered.

“I’m not—crying.” Your voice betrayed you, a hitch in your throat interrupting the sentence. The tears began to stream down faster, so fast your hands couldn’t keep up. 

You prepared yourself for a speech about how weak you were, how he wouldn’t tolerate such inane shows of infirmity. But all Sylus did was watch as you embarrassingly tried to pull yourself together. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Sylus moved next to you, hunching down to input his code into the transaction. His eyes glanced at the second monitor, displaying the company card’s account, and he zeroed in at the twin’s charge, and your lack thereof.

“Did you have lunch?” Sylus’s voice was softer, you attributed that to the fact that he was inches away from you. The question was so out of left-field it actually caused your tears to cease. 

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t use the card.” Your eyes followed his to the bank statement and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh, I had some extra cash on me I wanted to get rid of.”

“You’re supposed to use the card, Y/N. That’s what it’s for.”

“It’s fine, I’ll have an extra big lunch tomorrow. Granted you’re not firing me?” You were only half-joking, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips perk up in an almost-smile before he shut it straight down. 

“I won’t fire you if you tell me what’s got you this upset? I’m not so proud as to assume it was me.” It was that moment you realised Sylus was capable of feeling empathy. He was aware of how hurtful he was being all those times he’d berate you over the smallest inconveniences for virtually no reason, and he simply didn’t care. 

It was far worse to know that he did possess empathy, but chose not to extend it to you. 

“It’s just that time of the month.” You lied, convincingly. You’d mull over your blatant betrayal to feminism later, but for now you needed a means of shutting this inquiry down and quickly. You didn’t want anyone knowing about your mom, you were sure the pity would destroy you. She wasn’t going to die, and you didn’t want people to treat you like she might. 

Sylus waited for the transfer to clear before he left. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the door closed behind him.

“Are you sure we only have $105 on our lunch budget.” Luke’s question grated on your frayed nerves.

“$105 and five cents.” Your distinction didn’t do much help. 

“Come on, can’t you do your weird accounty magic and make more appear? We want steak.” Kiernan’s plea wasn’t helping either. You’d exhausted every last option, anything else would definitely cause alarms when Sylus eventually reviewed the accounts. 

“I already did all I could, I gave you an extra $255!” And a fat good that did you, now you were hungry and annoyed.

“Well, we both know there’s plenty more where that came from.”

There really wasn’t, but you didn’t tell them that. 

“I’m sorry, $105 is all you’ve got.” 

“Fine. But we’re very unhappy with you, Y/N. Very unhappy.” Luke chastised you, but you couldn’t even pretend to care. 

“Better you than Sylus, now please leave.” The twins opened their mouths with a retort, but a domineering voice interrupted them. 

“You heard her. Beat it and stop bothering my accountant.” 

The twins scurried at the sound of Sylus’s voice, and you wondered how much of that conversation he overheard.

“So, where did that extra $255 come from, Y/N?”

Too much of the conversation. Way too much. 

“My budget.” You cut your losses and told him the truth. Any other answer would have surely pissed him off. 

“I give you $300 for the whole week. Your sandwich costs $15. Either you haven’t been eating, or you've been paying out of your own pocket against my orders. Which is it?” 

Well, that was a lose-lose situation if there ever was one. You didn’t want to deal with the questions about why you were skipping meals, so you lied again. You always were an exceptional liar, your mother taught you that the less people knew about you, the less they had to hurt you with.

“I made too much food for dinner so I had leftovers. It’s no biggie.” You didn’t even look up from your screen as the lie left your lips. 

“What leftovers?” He asked. 

“Pasta.” You answered. 

“What kind?”

“Alfredo.”

“With mushrooms?”

“Yeah.”

“You hate mushrooms.” 

Shit. Why did he know that?

“I had a change of heart.”

“You’re lying.”

You bit your lip in worry, wondering how you were going to get yourself out of this one.

You stalled as much as you could, pretending to be engrossed in something on your screen, until the sound of Sylus’s phone ringing broke the tension. 

You internally thanked every deity that could possibly be watching over you as he took the call, and prayed to all of them that it would be something urgent. 

You heard the faint sounds of a feminine voice through his phone.

“Kitten, where are you?”

Wait, who’s kitten? 

“Just calm down, tell me where you are.” Sylus didn’t even give you a second glance as he quickly stormed out of your office. Leaving you to mull over the intimate pet name, knowing exactly who it was intended for.

As Sylus left the room you reflected on the cacophony your feelings created in your mind. You weren’t sure when you developed such strong feelings for Sylus — or why. His personality was the antithesis of yours. Where he would free fall off of the proverbial cliff of his life without a second thought, every risk you took was meticulously calculated. Where he was rough and respected, you were sort of a pushover. Where his deadpan sense of humour tended to elicit more fear than laughter, you had an awkward habit of cracking jokes in situations they were not appropriate.

You were polar opposites, two parallel lines that were destined never to intertwine. You figured that was why everything hurt so much around him. He wasn’t right for you, but he would be right for someone else. 

The envy you’d carried for so long began to subside for the first time in years. Sylus had an array of estranged lovers that he’d bring around his mansion every once in a while, and now Miss Hunter. But for the first time the reminder of that fact didn’t hurt as much as it usually did. 

It was Mid-September and you warned yourself that if you couldn’t eliminate all the romantic feelings you had for Sylus by the end of Autumn, you’d cut your losses and quit. 

Of course, you’d have to find another job that paid just as well, but you were willing to cross that bridge when it came to it. There was only so much turmoil your fragile heart could take, and if you were dead, your mother would be as good as dead too. 

Happy with your iron-clad plan, you opened up your notes app and began to draft ‘Operation Sylus: No More’. You could change the name later.

Operation Sylus: No More

The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November. 

Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.

Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly. 

Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants. 

Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!

Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.

You looked back at your list, proud of the relatively easy steps to follow. This should be a cakewalk. Whoever said you couldn’t be the master of your own feelings clearly never met you. 

“Boss needs you in his office. He says bring your laptop.” Kiernan’s voice broke your focus. You were almost finished with the end of year report for this financial year, a task Sylus forced you to complete annually. It was meaningless, considering Onychinus wasn’t necessarily a legitimate business listed on the stock exchange, but you took it seriously nonetheless. 

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” You felt Kiernan’s eyes bore into you as you continued to make minor edits to the report. You’d sleep so much better once this 180 page document was out of your life. 

“He needs you now, Y/N. We’re both toast if you make him wait.” You sighed and couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Sylus’s lack of empathy for your large workload. 

You berated your past self for being so eager for this role, completing far too many tasks far too quickly, and setting the precedent that you were some sort of accounting machine. You really should learn to stick to the bare minimum. 

You walked over to the door leading to his office, and gave it a soft rap with your knuckles. The door opened by itself, or rather with the help of Sylus’s evol, to the sight of him leaning back in his chair, with Miss Hunter sitting directly in front of him on his desk.

Step 3 of your guide felt less like a friendly reminder and more like a stab in the gut. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.

“We don’t have all day, sit down, Y/N.” Sylus’s command woke you from your trance, and you hoped your envy wasn’t as obvious as you thought it was. 

This was the first time you’d seen Miss Hunter up close, and when your eyes travelled to meet hers, she gave you a warm smile. You felt like the shittiest person to exist for ever hating her.

Your eyes scanned the room for somewhere to sit. The chairs opposite his seemed like they would intrude on the intimate moment he was clearly having with Miss Hunter, so you settled on an armchair in the corner that had a coffee table in front of it. 

Sylus sighed and didn’t even bother to ask you to move before he used his evol to whisk you up and deposit your body onto the chair at his table like a rag doll. You hated when he used his evol on you, it felt like the arms of a prickly cactus. 

“In a few minutes, I’ll be getting a phone call from a possible investor. He’s extremely exclusive and known for running tests on his potential partners before agreeing to invest with them. My intel suggests he’s going to propose a joint project, but the numbers he’ll give me will be far off. I need to counter-propose numbers that would generate a high return and quickly, or he’ll hang up and I’ll never hear from him again. So, open up your laptop and prepare, because if you tank this for me, there will no longer be a place for you here. Understood?”

When Sylus did things like that, it made it easier to love him a little less. He could be a complete and utter dick sometimes, and while you’d learned to accept it as a human flaw, recently it seemed more like a permanent predisposition. 

Perhaps Sylus was nice to you because you were entertaining, now that he had someone better to occupy his time, you were nothing more than a forgotten bygone. 

“Yeah, I got it.” You opened up an excel sheet with a project analysis template. These were the types of questions you’d get in your first year accounting courses but you let Sylus think it was much harder than it actually was — just to make him sweat. 

When the phone rang, Sylus’s muscles grew tense and Miss Hunter gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. You bit your lip to hide the sudden scowl on your face. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.

Your eyes bore into your excel sheet with an intensity that would’ve produced laser beams in an alternate reality. You focused entirely on the calculations, listening intently to the brassy voice of the investor on the phone. 

It didn’t take you long to generate the minimum initial investment they’d need to generate some form of return, as well as the payback period. You wrote the numbers down on a notepad, and you let him do the rest. 

When you heard the investor let out a humorous ‘I’m impressed’ you packed up your laptop and left the room without so much as a wave. You felt Sylus and Miss Hunter’s eyes follow you out of the room, but you didn’t bother looking back.

You felt the thin line between love and hate begin to grow blurry. Where Sylus was concerned, your feelings were as clear as the muddy water in a swamp. Maybe two and a half months was too much time. You needed these feelings gone expeditiously. 

You decided to take your lunch early, and you left the extravagant mansion that doubled as HQ to find your bike. You couldn’t really afford a car, or a license, but your bright yellow bike could do everything a car could for a fraction of the price. You were in the process of strapping up your helmet when Luke walked up. 

“What’s up with you lately?” His question was inevitable. You wondered how long it would take for someone to notice that you were fighting internal battles on every front. Your mother’s health, Sylus’s sudden chronic asshole syndrome flareup, your dwindling bank account. 

“Nothing, I’ve just been tired.”

“Well, we’re having a few friends over tonight. Just a small group, if you’re not too tired, you should come.” Luke was the more sociable twin, and he was most likely extending this invitation to you out of pity, but you’d take anything over being trapped in your own mind. 

“Will there be alcohol?” You quipped.

“Duh.” Luke’s response brought the first genuine smile to your face in weeks. 

“I’ll be there.” After your agreement, you cycled away toward the corner shop for lunch.

It was a quaint bakery/deli run by a Turkish man who you knew on a first name basis. He was aged-like-fine-wine handsome. Features weathered tastefully by age, with a full head of hair that quelled your fears of your future children inheriting the early onset male pattern baldness gene. 

But when you entered the store and saw Mr Demir, there were no butterflies. Your heart didn’t skip a beat. Your hands didn’t even quiver as you paid for the sandwich. In fact, they were so steady you figured you could give Dr Zayne a run for his money. 

Speaking of Dr Zayne, his daily updates were growing scarcer in detail, and you were worried that something was wrong. He insisted he was just busy and since your mother had moved up to 93 on the transplant list, you let it slide. 

“You know you’re allowed to try the other sandwiches, right?” Mr Demir’s handsome face contorted into a teasing smile, and if he didn’t own this shop with his beautiful wife, you might’ve asked him to marry you then and there. 

“I like this one. Your family is very talented.” You smiled at him, but it seemed even he could tell that it wasn’t genuine.

“You’re getting skinnier you know, and you haven’t been coming as often. Is something wrong or are you cheating on me with a salad store?” His joke brought a giggle out of you. 

You never thought that people noticed you in a way that was significant. You felt as if you were akin to a missing bird poster on a telephone pole in the middle of a busy street. People would glance at it, remember how common and undistinguishable birds are, and forget it ever existed.

Mr Demir’s concern warmed your heart, and you promised that if you ever won the lottery, you would give him half. 

“I’ve just been cooking more, that’s all. Thank you Mr Demir, say hello to your wife for me!” You gave him a small wave as you exited the shop and the weight suffocating your chest was a little lighter.

Mr Demir’s family had boundless love to share, and while their shop was small, they were happy. Maybe things would work out for you and your mother after all. 

The rest of the workday passed by like a fever dream. You finally managed to complete the annual report, a copy of it sitting in Sylus’s email, surely unopened. He left soon after that phone call with Miss Hunter, you didn’t bother to ask where.

The mansion was empty when you turned off the last monitor, and you thought you’d start pre-gaming early. Sylus always warned all of you that his bar was off-limits unless he stated otherwise, but the man had so much alcohol, you doubted he’d ever notice. 

He only drank red wine and whiskey, and you hated wine, so you settled for an almost full bottle of whiskey. You took one sip and realised you couldn’t stand the taste either, but it was still better than the wine, so you chugged glass after glass like they were shots. 

The heavy alcohol burned your throat on the way down and continued to burn in your stomach, but the feeling kept you warm so you didn’t really mind. You’d consumed half the bottle by the time the twins returned with two other men and one girl following in suit.  

“Y/N! Good, you’re here. Help me set up the drinks on the table.” You nodded your head at Luke’s request, knowing your speech would likely be slurred. 

You helped him line up the bottles of cheap tequila, vodka, fireball and a fear-inducing amount of absinthe. These cheap spirits were much more your speed.

“Alright, we’re starting with truth or dare. Pick your poison and sit around the coffee table.” Kiernan’s announcement had everyone scattering around the coffee table with cups in hand. You opted for the fireball, too scared to mix alcohol this early in the night. 

You recognised everyone from another one of the twin’s impromptu parties. They only ever threw them when they were sure Sylus would be gone overnight. You didn’t let yourself dwell on where he was or who he was with. 

The game was more entertaining than you expected, everyone had interesting questions, and when it came to dares, the twins always had something sadistic in mind. 

It was your turn when they decided to up the stakes. You were already wasted, so you committed to answering whatever question they pummelled at you. 

“Truth.”

“You’re so boring, you always pick truth.” Luke whined, his arm shaking yours in protest.

“That’s because I’m scared of your dares.”

Luke rolled his eyes but conceded.

“Fine. How many people have you slept with?”

All conversations came to a stifling halt as everyone’s eyes landed on you. Far too embarrassed to tell 5 people you barely knew that you were still a virgin, you changed your answer. There was nothing to be ashamed of, but you knew the twins would mercilessly make fun of you, and you didn't have the energy to explain that between the constant pressure to succeed for your mother, and her eventual illness, your love life had been placed on the back-burner.

“Dare.”

“You know the rules, if you switch options and refuse to do it, you have to finish everyone’s drinks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me.” You glared at Luke with determination. You should’ve known that when everyone was this drunk, the dares could only get progressively more outrageous.

“I dare you to call Sylus and tell him you crashed his McLaren.” Luke looked proud of his dare, and the smile dropped from your face instantly. 

Even Kiernan’s eyes flashed with concern before he broke out into an obnoxious laugh.

“Oh- Holy shit! That’s gold.” The words left Kieran’s mouth in-between his laughter. Everyone around the table looked at you eagerly.

You knew if you finished off everyone’s cups you’d definitely die, or worse, throw up. 

“Fine.” Too drunk to realise the implications of what you were doing, you dialled Sylus. There was also the chance he just didn’t pick up, but four and a half rings later his annoyed voice resounded through the speaker of your phone. 

“What is it?” From the sound of Sylus’s tone, you’d interrupted something important. You bit down the bitter feelings that threatened to spill out, and stuck to the objective.

“I have something to tell you, but you have to promise you won’t get mad.” There was no universe in which Sylus couldn’t tell you were drunk.

In all honesty, your phone call was a welcome reprieve from his mind-numbingly boring conversation with Linkon’s politicians. He’d offered to attend this event with MC with little thought as to what it would pertain. His eyes raked over her baby pink dress, and since he couldn’t get her out of it just yet, he entertained your drunk rambling.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Sylus expected you to apologise, but all he heard was a sound foreign to him. Were you laughing? Sylus heard indecipherable voices in the background, and he found himself wondering who was making you laugh. 

“True. Okay well, you know that dark grey sports car you love soooooooooooo much?” Nice going, Y/N, remind him just how much he loves this car. You thought. The phone was on speaker, per the requests of the fellow attendees. 

Everyone bit back laughs at the situation which was extremely unfunny to anyone with a blood alcohol level under 0.05. 

“What did you do?” Sylus’s question had a deadly underpinning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I crashed it!” At your exclamation, the room exploded in laughter, and you muted the microphone quickly before Sylus could hear it.

“You crashed it?”

You quickly unmuted to add. “Yup! Absolutely totalled.”

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming.” 

The laughter immediately died down. That was not how he was supposed to react, not at all. 

Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to shut it down and you quickly began to backtrack.

“No! No you don’t have to come home. I’m fine. It was just a prank.”

“Oh, so you’re at my place?” ShitShitShitShitShit.

“Yes… The twins and I had too much to drink and we thought it would be funny to prank you. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have interrupted your night.”

You braced yourself for the angry lecture on how Sylus’s time was more valuable the rarest ruby, but it never came.

“Just you and the twins, right?”

Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to agree.

“Yes.”

“You should probably call an exorcist.” Were you drunk or did he actually just tell you to call an exorcist?

“Huh?” Everyone in the room looked just as perplexed.

“You know, since those three other people in my living room must be apparitions.” 

“You didn’t rig the camera?” Kiernan’s shrill scream was definitely registered by the phone’s mic. 

“Fuck! I forgot.” Luke exclaimed in response as they scrambled to pack everything up. 

“Um…” With everyone frantically running around the room, you were left to deal with Sylus’s wrath alone.

“How come you never laugh when you’re with me?” And with that question you were convinced the alcohol had induced auditory hallucinations.

“You’re not very funny.” You decided to play along, after all, imaginary Sylus was much more fun than the real one.

“Hmm, I thought I was.”

“Nope. All your jokes end in someone dying, and usually that someone is me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, those aren’t jokes.” That was something real Sylus would say. Damn, these auditory hallucinations were realistic.

“I know, I really thought you were going to kill me last week.” You let out an involuntary snort at the hilarious image of your head on a pike. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I screwed up that wire transfer to Miss Hunter. You were soooo mad. You must reaaaalllyyyy like her.”

“I guess I do.” The line went quiet on both ends after that. 

This auditory hallucination was no fun following his confession, so you hung up. Sylus called a few times after, but you never noticed. The room began spinning and your eyes began watering, so you curled up on the floor until your head stopped pounding, but by then you were fast asleep.

Sylus returned to his mansion the next morning to find your office empty. It was still an hour before you were due to start, but you were always early. 

With an internal promise to check again in an hour, he walked toward the living room. It didn’t take long before he noticed a mop of light brown hair on his rug.

He walked toward your sleeping form with indignation, only to find every ounce of anger sucked out of him when he knelt down to find your sleeping face. 

He hadn’t been that close to you in what felt like forever. Was your face always that pale? His eyes caressed your under eye bags, and your hollow cheeks. He could’ve sworn they were fuller when he hired you. What happened to you? 

Before Sylus could give in to the urge to wake you up and ask, your phone made a sound from the coffee table. He picked it up and saw you were getting a call from Zayne.

Who the fuck was Zayne?

He answered the phone before he could think it through.

“Oh, Y/N, good. I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”

“You should’ve taken the hint.” Sylus couldn’t help the bite in his tone. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry at this Zayne, but his emotions were beginning to confuse him more often than he cared to admit.

“Who’s this?”

Sylus could’ve said that he was your boss. He should’ve said that he was your boss. But what he said instead…

“Y/N’s mine.” His employee, but that distinction didn’t seem necessary in the moment.

“Well, could you tell her to call me back as soon as possible. I have urgent news about her mother.”

The comment about her mother perplexed Sylus even more. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m her mother’s heart surgeon. I have to go, have her call me soon.” Sylus felt stupid for the unnecessary show of hostility, but he only had more questions following Zayne’s answer.

It seemed the conversation was enough to wake you up from your slumber, and the moment you registered your surroundings, the headache you had was amplified tenfold. Your muscles hurt from sleeping on the hard floor, and you were sure your legs had morphed into jelly. 

You were never drinking again.

“Well hello, sleeping beauty.” Sylus watched as you groggily rubbed your eyes. The right side of your face had an indent matching the pattern of his rug, and your hair was dishevelled. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Sylus. I’m so sorry.” You spoke through a yawn before cradling your head in your hands. The world needed to stop spinning.

Sylus shoved an open bottle of water in your face, and you greedily snatched the peace offering before he had time to change his mind.

“Zayne called, said he had some news about your mother.”

You shot straight up, spilling some water in the process.

“What did he say? Where’s my phone?” You glanced at large Sylus’s hand which was wrapped around said phone. If you weren’t so worried about your mother, you might’ve found the sight of Sylus holding something covered in a floral case amusing. Powering through the piercing pain in your temple, you held your hand out.

“Please give it back.” 

“What’s wrong with your mother?”

“Please Sylus, I can’t do this right now.” You tried to lunge for the phone, but he was faster. Raising his hand above his head and well out of your reach. 

“You’ll have this back once you answer my question.”

“She has the flu. Now give it back.” You jumped up in a feeble attempt to retrieve the phone, but he was just so goddamn tall. 

“I didn’t know flu treatment protocol involved heart surgery now. Guess I need to brush up on the latest medical news.” His sardonic tone made you scoff. Only Sylus could be such a dick while your mother's life was in limbo.

Curse Dr Zayne and his blabbermouth. 

If it wasn’t for the severe hangover, you might’ve been able to think of an explanation. But you were so nervous you felt sick and you needed to know the news Dr Zayne had.

“Fine. She needs a heart transplant, she’s on coronary bypass and if she doesn’t get a heart soon she’ll die. Is that good enough for you?” You continued to try to reach the phone, not bothering to check Sylus’s reaction to your confession. 

He dropped the phone in your hand and you all but sprinted out of the living room to make the phone call.

The line rang once, twice, three times before Zayne picked up.

“Y/N?”

“Yes! What’s wrong? Is my mom okay? Tell me she’s okay.”

“Slow down, she’s alive, but she had a cardiac event. Not a heart attack, but it still did some damage. Her condition is worse, much worse, Y/N. I’m sorry.” 

Your back slumped against the wall of the hallway and you felt your knees give in as you slid to the floor. 

“How long does she have?” The tears streaming down your face fell onto your shirt, leaving uncomfortable wet spots in their wake.

“A few weeks, a month’s top. But this did move her to the top of the list. She might get a transplant in time.” Zayne must have heard the sadness in your voice if he’d offered words of encouragement. He never did that. 

“Thank you. I’m going to come see her.”

“I’ll get the nurses to bring in an extra bed. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond so you hung up instead. The pain in your head was now but a mere memory as your heart began to splinter into a million little pieces. 

There was so much you still had to do. You needed to buy your mom her first ever house, and help her plant the prettiest flowers in the garden. You had to get her the dog she always dreamed about and the outdoor swing she missed from her childhood home. She still had to walk you down the aisle and sing your future children the lullabies she sang to you. She couldn’t go. Not yet. 

You didn’t even notice Sylus enter the hallway until you felt him sitting down next to you. He wove an arm behind your head, bringing your face into his chest. The intimacy of the act only made you cry harder. The last person to hold you that close was your mom, a few days before she’d collapsed. 

“It hurts.” You choked on your words and they came out muffled against Sylus’s chest.

“What hurts?” He asked. 

“My heart. It really hurts, Sylus.” You sobbed harder. It felt good to finally admit that you weren’t okay. To have someone hold you as your life fell apart around you. 

“Tell me what to do, Y/N. Anything.”

“Can I have some time off?” You took deep breaths as you tried to slow your crying down. You could break down once you reached the other side of this tumultuous predicament. 

The humble request drove Sylus insane. He’d offer you his own heart to save your mother if he wasn’t sure it was severely damaged, and all you could think to ask for was time off. 

“Of course.”

“Can you give me a ride to Linkon?” 

That request was a little better, but still not enough. 

“I’ll take you now, come on.”

“No wait, I need to go home and pack some things. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“You know you can still get a DUI on a pedal bike, right?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“But there’s still alcohol in your system, and you’re very upset. It won’t be safe, I’ll take you home on the way. Let’s go.” He stood up, his hand outstretched toward you. 

And with a heavy heart, you took Sylus’s hand.