I don’t wanna work anymore
Tagsᯓ★ cuddling, sweet Sylus, teasing, banter, Hunter MC, very tired MC, Sylus is rich, you aren’t lol, privileged Sylus, fluff, oneshot, calling him out
Blurbᯓ★ work’s been draining and although it certainly pays the bills it sure as hell doesn’t make it better. The schedule of a Hunter is intense, and this particular night Sylus gets to hear about it; except his response is the same as always.
A/Nᯓ★ok so r we considering MC and you to be the same person? Cause lwk i use them interchangeably in this context but idk. Also, ive had this for months in my wips and gone under heavy revision—I hope yall enjoy! ‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹ (also yes this is the same thing as my incomplete fic let but better and completed soo???)
You were on your side, pillow against your chest, and phone in your hands as you partook in your nightly doomscrolling routine. Sylus on the other hand, had just emerged from the bathroom—his hair dripping wet before he tousled it with a towel—moving it around like a mangy dog. “Did you use up all of our hot water?” he hummed, making his way over to the bed before throwing the towel elsewhere, bored.
“Mm..” you let out, not up for much talk as you looked up at him, sprawled out. You only managed to catch a soft sigh before the mattress dipped as he lowered himself onto it, your eyes momentarily glancing before you returned to your screen.
Sylus, of course, noticed your fatigue. His eyes drifted to the mound of pillows around you before he moved—carefully pushing them aside and pressing slowly against your back.
The silk sheets twisted and draped over both of you as you adjusted, a soft sigh leaving you before you reached for your phone once more. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, he realized you were probably tired from work today. Usually you’d be up for chatter, maybe some video games or a movie but no, not today it seems.
“Seems like someone is rather silent tonight,” he murmured against the side of your nape, his eyes fluttered shut before his calloused hand weaved itself into your hair. His fingers moved through the strands, enough for you to feel the weight of them beneath your hair: a massage of sorts.
Your eyes grew drowsy at the sensation and before you knew it, a yawn fell from your lips, “Mmph—Sylus…,” you whined, your brow furrowed as you tried to move your head away, wanting to scroll some more before knocking out.
“Such a sleepy, sleepy kitten,” he teased, his voice thick with affection. His hand lingered against your scalp for a moment, before he shifted against the sheets, settling beside you.
You didn’t automatically reply, instead, you turned your attention back to your screen. Your thumb swiped at the glass before landing on another video. Clean, minimalistic, and basic there sat a woman in her car talking over the rapid fast captions enthusiastically. Maybe in her late 20s, her voice held that annoyingly familiar influencer accent. The one people used online when trying to sell you something. Regardless, the title of the video caught your attention, the letters showing up for a matter of seconds before your eyes flickered down to her face. A list of bullet points flashing before you while she began to talk about her experience about being a DINK aka, “Duel Income, no kids”.
You couldn’t help but notice how she went on, talking about her successes. Meanwhile, your own muscles ached. Unlike the cushy office job she held, the earlier fights and patrol calls you dealt with didn’t pay generously. She talked about her family’s net worth, her gross income; it irked you to say the least.
You sighed; she rambled on about how amazing it was being able to afford annual lavish trips, living the “it” life you oh so desired. All while not going broke.
Her words grew increasingly annoying, and before you knew it it manifested itself in an eye roll before you decided to scroll away already forgetting the lady as a new short popped up, instantly grabbing your attention. However, behind you— someone’s breath fanned across your neck, a heavy chuckle followed.
With a weary sigh you looked behind you, your eyes already tired as you made eye contact with the culprit.
Sylus with a shit eating grin before he raised a brow, amused.
“Well that sounds…dreary, for lack of a better term,” he hummed, his voice breaking the domestic silence. “Two incomes and they’re barely scraping by, what a pity” the timber of his voice reverberated against your neck, his tone laden with mock.
You rolled your eyes, realizing he was referring to the earlier woman and her stories.
Right, because making just short of 100K a year was, “Scraping by” by his standards.
You offer nothing but a small nod in return, the bed creaking under the weight as you turned over again.
“…” the silence stretches on and neither of you saying a word as the minutes pass. The blanket is pulled up to your chin as you swipe from video to video all while he watched over your shoulder, still somehow entertained. Yet your mind can’t help but be drawn to what he said earlier.
The thought forms before you could stop it,
Is it me or was that not just a little privileged? 150K sure isn’t millionaire money but still—I make less than that!
A fresh spark of curious irritation starts to ignite in you, fueled less by actual anger and more by your exhausted state. You sit up, ready to complain in the nicest way possible. You throw the blanket away and huff, the room suddenly too stuffy before you look down at him. That look in his eyes egging you on.
“Working sucks,” you pout, surprised by your tone yet you continued, “if you think they’re struggling this much imagine how one person is scraping by with just one job. My own job doesn’t even pay me that much” you furrowed your brow and ran your hand through your hair before leaning back against the headboard.
At that, his face immediately grew into a full-blown grin, that stupid smirk setting in place as he propped himself up on his elbow, slowly gauging your reaction, clearly glad to see his lover somewhat rejuvenated. His matching pjs did nothing to soften it’s effect, his expression looking more gaudy than anything.
Successfully goaded by his stupid grin, your eyes flickered to his as he challenged you further. Stubborn as ever, you demanded he take you seriously—this time less sleepy and more bothered.
“I mean, like I literally risk my life every day, and yes I love Tara and being a Hunter, but you’d expect to be paid more. I mean—then I wouldn’t have to live in my tiny ass apartment,” you kept going, clearly needing to talk about work. It didn’t take long for Sylus to register the underlying message.
Clearly, you were right, Sylus thought, you got paid too little to do too much just to risk your life for the oh-so-poor citizens of Linkon. Maybe it was because you thought he wouldn’t understand, and part of him didn’t. His mind was always a bit boggled at the idea of you willingly going to work while you had a gold mine practically waiting for you at home everyday: him.
“Not to mention I should probably stop buying so much nice clothes and put more into my savings. No wonder Xavier basically lives off Hotpot using those coupons he owns!” You exclaimed, your words spiraling into a tangent quickly.
At that he let out a low laugh, quickly looking away, amused by what was being said. As silly as he found your situation, he also understood your innate need for independence. His sweet kitten was stubborn and no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how imposing or how “intimidating” you joked he was—you never minded challenging him. That, in the end, is what made you so alluring to him.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to play coy with me. You have my card, don’t you?” he teased, already moving to sit up beside you. His hand reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes holding a mixture of his signature coyness coupled with affection.
You shot him a knowing look, one that said, Really? Now? All earlier sluggishness was gone, replaced by a the fiery pits that were his girlfriend’s complaints.
“It’s about the principle, I like spending money that I make” you muttered instead, shifting to fully face him, your cheek pressed against the pillow before you meet your boyfriend’s smirk.
“Oh well, by all means then kitten—continue getting hurt out on the battlefield. I don’t mind,” he chuckled, his rumble of a laugh causing your cheeks to warm with embarrassment.
“I like working ok?, I like the thrill of it,” You muttered, somewhat defensive though your words tinged with play. Your eyes darted elsewhere as he mentally cornered you.
"Even so, you act as if I’m spoiled and high maintenance, so of course I’m not going to ask you! You know it would only add to your stupid teasing!” You barked, eyes snapping back to his, brow furrowing as he silently observed. He propped his head up against his palm, eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched his sweetheart fluster herself with just a few words.
He would never even insinuate such a thing, he mused.
“I never called you high maintenance—although now that we’re on the topic…” he drawled on, coolly. His fingers reaching to brush up against your cheek, a low chuckle leaving him as he teased.
“Don’t think I haven’t seen how much it costs for you to get your nails and hair done, sweetheart. And with that pity-poor salary they have for you? I have no clue where you pull the money from, honey,” he murmured, his voice slipping into something more tender even as held that goading edge.
“Whatever…I guess—you win,” you replied, your voice trailing off, too tired to continue. You yawned threw him a pillow and a pout at him before drawing up the blanket up against you both.
Realistically, he had made some pretty good points. Still, with aching limbs and all, being a hunter was a role you didn’t take on lightly.
You yawned again, the playfulness from earlier melting into something much more languid. Too tired to fall further into his bait, you scooted closer to him and set your phone down on the the nightstand.
Your eyes drifted away before you lazily stretched, the cool sheets rustling beneath you as your bones snapped, crackled, and popped into place.
“I just…make it work,” you replied to his earlier comment before adding, “but I guess being rich comes with its perks, huh?” You glanced over at him, throwing a lazy little smirk his way, teasing him about being so “comfortable”.
Quietly, you admitted defeat, your white flag waved across his gaze as you crawled closer to his side of the bed, finally dropping the rants.
Before he could reply, you slowly slide your hand to his chest, your earlier spark faltering, fading as something much more immediate began to creep in: sleepiness. “Mm..,” you mumbled, your eyes landing on the thread count as the weight of the day seemed to crash in.
The cotton shirt from earlier felt slightly damp beneath your palm from his shower. Your fingers moved over the firm muscle underneath, his steady heartbeat picking up just enough for you to notice. A small smile replaced your hazed out look before you looked up to meet his eyes, soft.
Lazily, he brought his own hand to yours, the warmth of his skin seeping through your fingertips and leaving you feel pleasantly fuzzy. His fingers eased through yours—lacing them together before giving them a squeeze. Slowly, he pulled you onto his lap, a familiar weight against him. The sharp contours of his face softened against the top of your head before a small hum left his lips. His nose brushed against your hair, “I’m more than just comfortable sweetheart.”
He murmured, his voice settling as he recognized the reemerging fatigue on your face, your words a quiet tease.
He knew she could always come to him if needed, and for some reason that was enough.
“You know…sweetheart, if it really came down to it,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind being the main provider for us” his free arm slid around your back, hooking over your waist as he pulled you closer—keeping you there.
“Yea?” You mumbled, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, already beginning to succumb to sleep.
“Mhm…you’ve always had that option kitten, but we both know better than to assume you’d take it,” he smiled, and although she couldn’t see it, his gaze held something he couldn’t quite describe.
“I told you, it’s s’the…,” you tried to slur out a response, determined to get the last laugh.
Instead, he let out a genuine chuckle at your incoherent musings and pulled back enough just for you to meet his gaze once more, “Oh my god, you really don’t want to drop it do you, kitten?” He couldn’t hide his smile this time though, it wasn’t the shit-eating grin of smug satisfaction he usually wore, but something softer. Real. Unbridled care and adoration for her uninhibited state.
“God, you’re just adorable, aren’t you?” He couldn’t help but tease, his low chuckles making you feel even smaller against his large frame.
“Shut up—just turn off the lights…” you mumbled, aimlessly swatting at him.
“Alright sweetheart, apologies. I forgot that my words are at this moment for the faint of heart,” he hummed.
“Mmph…whatever…,” you managed out, your eyes looking like slits more than anything before you heard the distinct, Click! from the lamp nearby. The room was now an opulent noir, a myriad of lingering moonlight and darkness. Sylus stayed there, the only sound coming from the rise and fall of your chest against his. The steady beat a warm reminder of your presence. The silence deepened into a steady lullaby of mingled warmth, a decadent ease blooming into Sylus’s soul. His fingers moved, quietly assessing her torso before he reached for the blanket, drawing it up against both of you.
“Goodnight, baby.” he finally whispered, leaning in against your ear before he pressed his lips to the shell of it. His own eyes fluttering shut against the headboard.
A/Nᯓ★ Comments and asks are appreciated! Any feedback or thoughts are too, I had so much fun actually getting around to this. I put it off for forever so it was interesting to see what old material I wrote (it was bad) I might take requests? If any1's interested, or I'll just do some sylus headcannons or smth 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
Dividers: @enchanthings (dark blue) and @sweetestpeacreates (yellow star)
