#⊹˙⋆ ⟢ ﹒ It’s my time to shine! // Threads .

[nubiawrites]

chapter seven

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). sex.

Summary: Iriye and Aaron experience a night of firsts.

Notes: FLY EAGLES FLY! Also, I'm excited to finally get this one out because I figured out the ending for this series, so enjoy the ride. It's gonna have some ups and downs. Comment, like, reblog, or send me asks. I want to hear your thoughts as I love responding.

MASTERLIST

Music floated throughout Iriye’s apartment, and Mariah Carey sang about it being her night, which set the mood. She was happy it was Friday and she had a date with Aaron.

For once, Iriye wasn’t on the lot that day, as she had decided to take a me-time day. She started with some Pilates, trying to remember the last time she had been to a class. Her instructor even asked her where she had been after her workout. She then headed for a quick lunch, walked around her favorite used book store, and got her feet and nails done.

Iriye came home and read a few emails before seeing the time and figuring she should get ready. She started getting ready, spending time scrubbing down in the shower. She exited the shower and moisturized, moving on to her skincare. After feeling refreshed, Iriye went to the closet to see what she had to wear.

As Iriye pondered an ankle-length dress, she heard her phone ring and grabbed it. She smiled as she saw who it was.

“How’s my favorite child?” The smooth voice flowed from the phone, Iriye seeing her mother on the screen.

“Mommy, I’m your only child,” Iriye chuckled. 

“Same difference,” Eve, Iriye’s mother, stated. “Oh, you got the silk robe we took from the spa day we had. Where you heading out to?”

Iriye bit her lip as she shook her head. That day with her mom had been a trip.

“Who says I’m going out?” Iriye asked.

“You are shea buttered down my dear. You learned that from me. Do you have a date?” Iriye could hear the smile in her mom’s voice.

“Yes,” Iriye said as she sat on her bed, phone in hand. “I’ve been sort of seeing someone.”

“And by seeing someone, you mean having protected sex?” Eve inquired.

“Mom!” Iriye shook her head at her mother. “We are too close.”

“We raised each other practically,” Eve said. Iriye’s mom was merely twenty-two years old when she found out she was pregnant. But her mom was always too cool, even if she knew when to lay down the law. “You’re my grown daughter. I know you be having sex,”

“We haven’t gotten to know each other that biblically,” Iriye stated. “But he’s different than any man I’ve been interested in before.”

“How so?” Iriye picked at a thread on her cover. 

“He’s so… authentically himself,” Iriye admitted. “I think sometimes he looks at me with rose-colored glasses.”

“And what’s wrong with that, sweetie?” Eve asked. Iriye sighed.

“Because what happens when he takes them off and sees me? Sees the good and the bad and the ugly,” Iriye admitted.

“Then you see if he likes what he sees or runs away,” Eve declared. “Not every man is like Jay,” Iriye sighed as she thought of Jay.

“You know he still calls Tamara,” Iriye mentioned. “I can’t fault her. They became great friends through me. But it still hurts. I feel like if I just… was a little more bending and willing to shine more-”

“Some men are just not built for women like you. Women like us. Their loss.” Eve shrugged after interrupting her. “You are so beautiful, intelligent, and talented. If a man can’t see that and step out of the way to let you shine, they don’t even deserve to be in your rays or your shadow.”

“I love you so much, Mommy,” Iriye said, trying not to get teary-eyed. It was blunt and straight to the point, but it was the truth served straight up. No chaser needed.

“Now wipe your tears and show me what you’re wearing. Because I know you took my favorite sweater dress, and I will get it back when I come out to visit,” Eve declared. Iriye got up and went to her closet, showing her options to her mother and purposefully skipping over the things she took from her.

Iriye was trying to clasp her bracelet when she heard a knock at the door. She headed out of her bathroom, looking through the peephole and saw Aaron crouching in it. She smiled softly as she opened the door, stepping back to usher him in as she tried to clasp the bracelet.

“Come in. I’m almost ready,” Iriye spoke, still struggling with the bracelet.

“Here,” Aaron shut the door behind him and approached her. “Let me help you,” Iriye tried again, huffing as she didn’t get it. She held her arm, clutching the bracelet in her hand. Aaron reached forward to find the clasp, his fingers gentle against her skin. He concentrated and finally got the clasp, Iriye smiling warmly.

“Thank you,” Iriye kissed him softly, Aaron smiling against her lips. “Hi,”

“Hello,” Aaron’s arms slipped around her waist. “You look-” He pulled back to take her in, his gaze sending a shiver down her spine.  “I think there’s not enough words in my vocabulary that can describe how good you look,”

“Maybe I can help you figure some out. You know… since I’m a writer and all,” Iriye winked. Aaron pulled her back in for a deeper kiss. “Don’t we have dinner plans?” She asked against his lips.

“We do,” Aaron said between kisses before pulling back, his hands smoothing down to her waist. “You look so beautiful, love.”

“Thank you.” Iriye pulled away and grabbed her purse. “Lead the way.”

Aaron and Iriye drove in comfortable silence, mixed with pleasantries and an impromptu sing-along to a Sade song they both loved. As they got closer to the heart of downtown LA, she watched as Aaron navigated the streets, and soon, they entered a parking structure. 

Aaron got out once they were parked and headed for her door, opening it for her. Iriye let Aaron help her out of the car, and she adjusted her dress. His hand slipped into hers, the tingles shooting up her arm every time they touched. Once they got to the elevator, Aaron pressed the button for the rooftop, and Iriye eyed him for a moment, him catching her eye.

“What’s on your mind?” Aaron asked, his smooth voice falling on her ears.

“The rooftop?” Iriye stated. 

“You’ll see,” Aaron said, kissing her hand. She leaned into him softly, watching the numbers tick off as the elevator rose. Once the elevator stopped and opened, Aaron led her out to a hallway with a frosted glass door. They walked down to the door and Aaron held the door open for her

Iriye took in the rooftop, seeing it was an intimate restaurant. Some were seated inside the glass space and others were further outside on the balcony.

“Aaron, this place looks incredible,” Iriye said, turning to see him taking in her reaction. 

“I’m happy to hear that, love,” Aaron stated. A hostess came up and led them over to a table outside. Aaron pulled her chair out for her, waiting till she was sat and comfortable before moving to his. 

“Where did you find this spot?” Iriye asked, grabbing the menu so she could look at what she wanted.

“A friend I made while working manages it,” Aaron stated. “And the food is amazing.”

“Look how connected you are.” Iriye looked over the menu and saw what she was thinking about for appetizers. The waiter came over to bring them water and take their drink orders. Iriye was taken in by how the sun set and the night came alive in LA. “I love this view.”

“Me too,” Aaron said as he took Iriye in. Words couldn’t even describe how beautiful she looked. Her eyes met his, and a heat came across his skin.

“Stop it,” Iriye felt her cheeks warming up, the pit in her stomach clenching as she took in him looking at her. “You look very handsome yourself.” “I clean up nicely after a long day,” Aaron chuckled, sipping his water.

“Tell me about your day,” Iriye asked. Aaron raised an eyebrow, which she returned with one of her own. “Please,”

Aaron regaled Iriye with stories of set life, how he was faring with his co-stars for the show, and how he was making friends with the crew. He talked about how the craft team had given him a few snacks that he liked, even though he was trying to stay in shape while filming Lanterns. She found it refreshing.

“I really am fortunate to get to do what I love,” Aaron admitted after the waiter took their order for shared appetizers. Iriye took a sip of her drink that was brought over, humming at the fruity cocktail as she listened. 

“You know you’re a rarity, right?” Iriye said. Aaron furrowed her brows. “This business has a way of jading people as they climb upwards and onwards. I’ve worked with a few people at different levels and rarely meet people who genuinely love what they’re doing. Who are grateful,”

“That makes me unique?” Blueish grey eyes stared into her soul, and Iriye had to focus.

“It does to me. No matter how big you get, you’re just you. Just Aaron,” Iriye shrugged, taking another drink. “I like that.” 

“I’m glad you do.” Aaron took a sip of his drink. “What about yourself?”

“What about me?”

“Do you love what you do? Writing scripts and scenes for unique people like me to act out,” Aaron rattled out. Iriye took a moment to think.

“It’s a love and hate relationship,” Iriye admitted. “There was a time I hated it—four years into living here. I was working as an assistant for an executive. It felt like they were doing everything possible to make me hate my job. Took so much of my sanity. But I was determined to stick it out. And a year and a half later, I proved myself. She said I could be just like her and take her job. That day, I decided to find another job. Anything. I put my notice in and helped train my replacement when I hired them. I worked at a youth center afterward, trying to find peace of mind. During that time, I found happiness in writing about what I could and wanted. Doing Uber Eats and the odd set job. I never wanted to be that… miserable ever again working a nine to five to make someone else feel important.”

“Are you miserable now? Working on Paradise Lost and all?” Aaron asked.

“Not at all. Everything I worked so hard for is coming to fruition.” Iriye stated. “I’m doing what I love with people who love it just as me,” She admitted. A smile took over Aaron’s face as he reached for her hand, stroking it softly when she put it in his hand.

Appetizers came and went, and Aaron’s friend Troy brought the main courses and two drinks. Iriye was intrigued as Aaron and Troy made quick conversation, retelling how they met.

“Never met a more encouraging spotter,” Troy admitted. Aaron crossed his arms over his chest in thank you.

“Anytime, brother.” Troy and Aaron hugged each other up before Troy shook Iriye’s hand in parting.

The conversation over their main course was pleasant. Iriye learned more about how Aaron was the oldest and how he was close to his siblings and family. How he talked about them made her wish she had someone to share the times growing up.

“I feel like I’ve talked too much,” Aaron stated, Iriye picking off his plate since he hadn’t denied her the first time she did. 

“Not at all. I find people with siblings interesting.” Iriye shrugged. “I’m an only child.”

“Your parents were one and done?”

“It was just my mom and I.” Iriye took a bite of his food, chewing and swallowing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Iriye raised her eyebrow at Aaron. “About your father,”

“I’m not,” Iriye stated. “He left when I was eleven. And honestly, it was probably for the best. My mom and I were better off without him.” She said pointedly.

“How so?” Aaron asked her, his eyes searching hers for a truth. Iriye had to look down at her plate, feeling like she was growing harsh with the mention of her father. 

“I… I’m not ready to talk about that,” Iriye simply said. She could see that look in his eyes—the one to dig deeper. “I just feel like it’ll ruin the night.”

“It won’t,” Aaron assured her.

“For me, it will.” Iriye wasn’t sure if she was ready to let Aaron know how she felt about the man responsible for half of who she was.

“I’m not going to pressure you,” Aaron said. “But just know, I’m ready whenever you are,” Iriye relaxed in her chair, those words washing over her. No pressure. Just patience.

“Thank you.”

By the time the check arrived, anticipation was the name of the game. Iriye was sipping her water, as Aaron had asked.

“I don’t want you falling asleep on me,” Aaron teased, Iriye watching as he wrote his signature. Iriye playfully let her heeled foot slide against the inside of his leg, watching as he stopped writing for a moment.

“Focus,” Iriye spoke, taking another sip of her water. Not even its coldness could calm the heat burning through her.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Iriye.” Aaron felt her foot gently stroking his leg.

“It’s not a bad thing if we both win.” Iriye placed the cup down. “Yours or mine?”

“What are you asking, love?”

“Your place or mine,” Iriye raised a brow. Aaron put his card back in his wallet before sipping his water. Iriye raised her foot high along his leg. She was just so close when-

“You’re something else, Iriye Edwards,” Aaron had her ankle in one hand. 

“What can I say? I know what I want. What do you want?” Iriye asked. She felt his fingers rolling her ankle softly in his hands. Aaron licked his bottom lip, those eyes of his growing darker.

“What I want… is to know how you look lying spread out on my bed,” Aaron breathed. Those words made Iriye take a deep breath, unable to break eye contact with him. 

“That’s someth-”

“I’m not done,” Aaron interrupted. Iriye shut her mouth quickly, hoping no one else focused on them. “I want to be inside of you every way I can. See how you look when you give in to the pleasure I can bring you, Iriye.” Iriye caught the Jamaican twang at the end of his words and felt the anticipation roll up her back. “Smell your scent on my sheets, even after you leave. Is that something you want?”

“Yes,” Iriye breathed. Aaron smiled.

“Then let’s go,” 

Iriye was buzzing as Aaron led her out of the restaurant and back to his car, her clutching onto his arm. It was the comfortable silence, fueled with the thrumming of her heart as she was mentally preparing for what was to come.

But all of it was thrown to the wind once they reached Aaron’s apartment and entered. Iriye didn’t have time to process as the door shut behind her, Aaron pressing her up against it as he kissed her.

Moans left Iriye’s mouth and found a home in Aaron’s. All the self control he held onto left as his hands went to her hips, sliding over her ass as Iriye wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Chest to chest, Iriye felt their clothes were a burden. She moved to push her hands under his suit jacket until Aaron pulled away from the kiss to shrug it off.

“You look so sexy in that dress… I can’t wait to see it on the floor,” Aaron groaned. Iriye giggled as he dragged her to the bedroom, Iriye trying her best not to trip over anything. 

Once inside the bedroom, lips clashed against as Iriye let her hands slide under Aaron’s shirt. He got the memo and backed Iriye to the bed until she fell into the familiar mattress. She leaned up to watch Aaron lift his shirt from his body, muscles and abs underneath the caramel skin.

“You can’t be real.” Iriye hummed, taking him in. Aaron smirked, grabbing her hand and dragging it down his abs. 

“I am. All for you,” Aaron groaned, feeling her nails dragging softly against the skin. She sat up more, making quick work of his belt and unzipping his pants. The peek of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs made him even more appealing to her.

Iriye slipped her hands into Aaron’s pants, helping him get the pants and his boxer briefs down, seeing the one-eyed monster between his legs. She kept her eyes on him as she let her tongue lick at the underside of his length, a groan escaping Aaron.

Aaron’s hand slipped to Iriye’s goddess locs, seeing he was trying to regain some sense of control as Iriye worked the tip of his length into her mouth. She focused on the head, finding it was her favorite part of his length so far. She wanted to spend the night playing with it and discovering what made him tick.

“Jesus,” Aaron breathed, peering down at Iriye playing with the slit of his cock, tongue wiggling against it. She was a pro. He pulled back, watching Iriye’s mouth fall open as she moaned for more. “You look so sexy.” Aaron slid his cock against her lips and she sucked the head into her mouth playfully. “Open those pretty lips for me, baby girl,”

Iriye smiled before letting her mouth fall open, Aaron pushing his length in her mouth. She whined, relaxing as she let him fuck her mouth. One hand went to grip his ass as she encouraged him to fuck her mouth. The other one went to her dress, tugging up the skirt. She slipped her hands between her thighs, moaning around his length as she touched herself through her wet panties.

Aaron thrust a little faster into Iriye’s mouth, her gagging some. She grasped onto his ass as he pulled back, licking up to see his eyes were half hooded and his hand grasping into her hair. Iriye went deeper, seeing how much more his jaw dropped.

“Fuck…” Aaron breathed and Iriye pulled back to suck before taking him deep again, her hand moving her panties aside and slipping her fingers inside, fucking herself and moaning around him. 

Iriye took him down further, gagging around his length as she relaxed, hearing Aaron praising her as she sucked him slowly. She wanted to savor him but she was fucking herself, her pussy growing wetter. She felt one of Aaron’s free hands trail down to the arm fucking herself. 

“I can hear how wet that pussy is Iriye,” Aaron groaned. “Bet your fingers—- fuck—- feel so good inside. But not as good as mine.” Iriye nodded, moaning once again. She whined as he pulled back, seeing him kick off his pants. Iriye was about to take off her dress when Aaron grasped her hand, pulling it out of her panties. Her jaw dropped as he sucked her juices off of her fingers, moaning around them.

Iriye pressed her lips against Aaron’s, tasting their juices together as they kissed. His hands pushed her dress up and lifted it, leaving her in the black lacy bra and panties. Her bra was next, his hands slipping them down her shoulder as they kissed. She was bare to him except for her panties. Iriye pulled away, her staring into his darkened eyes and licking her lip.

“Aaron, I need you,” Iriye moaned as she moved her hand around his length, giggling when he groaned at her touch. “Please…”

“Please, what? Tell me what you need, love.” Aaron kissed her again. 

“Aaron, please fuck me,” Iriye was helpless to her pleasure, needing him. She felt him pull away from the bed, reaching into his bedside drawer and opening a box of gold foil condoms, his length bobbing as he moved. 

Aaron helped her up the bed, his fingers landing on her panties and pulling them off. Iriye moaned as he pushed her legs apart, seeing Aaron lowering to her pussy. “I need you.” She let her hands trail down his shoulders and dug into his shoulders softly.

Iriye let out a moan as he licked at her pussy, seeing her juices on Aaron’s lips. 

“Please, Aaron.” Iriye begged. Aaron smirked up at her from between her legs. “Since you’re using your words,” Aaron trailed kisses up her body, her skin heating up more and more. Iriye moaned and kissed him back when he made it to her lips.

Aaron grabbed the condom, using his teeth to open it. He slipped it on as Iriye’s hand slipped to rub her clit and Aaron pushed it away. His condom covered length pushed between her lower lips, teasing her clit and a gasp came out of her. He slid his length between her lips a few more times, whines leaving her body as he teased her.

“Iriye…” Aaron groaned, sliding between her lips one more time before he grasped her cheek. “Keep your eyes on me. Let me know if you need me to stop.” Iriye nodded, her eyes locking on his. She felt him at her entrance, and he pushed in, Iriye gasping out.

Aaron could feel how warm she was through the condom, his length fitting inside of her like a glove. He had to focus as he fantasized about the moment he would feel all of Iriye wrapped around him. But his late-night and daytime thoughts were nothing compared to the reality below him, her legs beside his hip as his body pressed into hers.

Iriye tried her best not to squeeze around him, wanting to feel all of him, and she was.

“You feel so good, Aaron,” Iriye moaned, already beginning to feel intoxicated with lust. She cupped his cheek to pull him in for a kiss. “Move, please.” “Yes,” Aaron raised himself on his arms, pulling his length out before pushing back in, slow thrusts making Iriye whine. Her hands dragged from his hips to his back, nails grasping onto the caramel skin as she tried to focus on anything but Aaron taking her. 

Iriye rolled her hips against Aaron, and groans fell from his lips. She could see he kept his chain on, and she leaned to kiss him. The way his eyes caught hers, the sight too much for Iriye to focus on so she kissed him, letting him swallow all the moans and gasps that came from her.

“Shit Iriye,” Aaron moaned against her lips. The moans, groans and smack of flesh meeting wet pussy filled the room. 

“You’re fucking me so good,” Iriye cried out. “Harder, baby.” Aaron obliged her, hips moving deeper and faster into her. “Just like that,” Iriye’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. His hips moved into her, colliding with the flesh of her skin. Iriye wrapped her legs around his waist. Keeping him closer as he dug deeper into her.

“You like being filled like this?” Aaron breathed.

“Mhm,”

“That’s not good enough,” Aaron said, giving her a hard thrust into the fleshy spot that had a cry coming from Iriye. “Tell me. Talk to me, Iriye,” He groaned.

“It feels… it feels like you were meant to be inside me.” Iriye licked her lips, the lewd sounds of his cock moving inside of her echoed in his room.

Aaron watched her for a moment, seeing how her breasts moved with every thrust, the different sounds coming out of her as he moved a certain way. It made him want to lose it quickly, and he was okay with that as long as she came first. He could feel her walls tightening, and Iriye was getting worked up. That just made him thrust harder into her, her cries building more and more. Her pussy tightening around him as he coaxed her orgasm from her with his hard cock.

“Iriye…” He groaned, one of his hands sliding to her ass, to pull her harder into him. Her toes clenched at the feeling, liking how he was manhandling her as she grew closer.

“Don’t stop,” Iriye cried, her hand sliding down between them, her fingers finding her clit and rubbing it. Seeing her touching herself made Aaron focus on hitting her G-spot, the cries and moans between them making their breathing erratic and their movements following suit.

“Oh shit,” 

“Yes! Right there,”

“Iriye!” Aaron growled into her ear as he rolled himself into her, feeling the pit in his stomach grow. His balls tightened up and he moved faster, needing her to cum first.

“Shit! Oh! Aaron,” Iriye rubbed her clit faster, cries leaving her body as his thrust becane faster. With a grasp of her ass to pull her against him, the damn broke and Iriye cried out as she came, her juices spilling and coating the condom. 

Her walls tightening as she came had Aaron stuttering in a thrust before he fastened his pace once more, drawing Iriye’s orgasm out. It took him ix more wet thrust before he spilled into the condom, pulling Iriye’s hips closer to him. Iriye pressed kisses against his lips, cheeks, and shoulders, clutching onto him as they moved together, riding out their orgasms.

Their hips slowed, sweat clinging to their bodies as Aaron struggled not to suffocate her beneath the weight of his body. However, Iriye pulled him closer. Once he had regained his strength, he dragged them further up the bed. Iriye giggled as she felt his kisses all over her face before he found her lips. She moaned into his mouth as his hand rested on her stomach, and she whined. Aaron pulled out of her, and she whimpered, feeling her juices spilling out. He kissed down her body, lips moving to kiss and suck at her hard nipples.

“Aaron…” Iriye whined as she dragged her nails over his head as he kissed down. “You gotta…” She arched against him when he kissed down the softness of her bell, his tongue licking between her folds. “Let me catch my breath.”

“You got it, love.” He spread her legs over his shoulders. “Just breathe and let me taste you till you’re ready for round two.”

Iriye watched as Aaron devoured her, her night just beginning.

@wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[bunnwich]

I just found out a Prince of Egypt Musical exists, and one of the addition songs— 'footprints on the sand'— really gives me Leona vibes

(Spotify link to the song)

https://open.spotify.com/track/40PqpFQdrylghRZgY36W8G?si=wATkespmQyar931PNnNc8A&context=spotify%3Aalbum%3A7MOGTYjo3ifwHDBf0EBE71

(Genius lyrics)

https://genius.com/Original-west-end-cast-of-the-prince-of-egypt-footprints-on-the-sand-lyrics

So since you're— at least in my view— one of the Leona experts, I was wondering what your thoughts would be on it!

Not that it fits perfectly; no song ever really fits 100%, after all. But I think it has strong Leona vibes

Leona VS The Weight of Insignificance

(Ahhh sorry I am just getting around to this.;-; BTW DFGHJK I’m flattered that you consider me a Leona expert??)

So this is pretty cool because I didn't realize there was a Prince of Egypt Musical? I’m a big fan of the animated movie and of musicals so I’ll have to listen to the rest someday!

So, I think in general the theme of “Footprints in The Sand” is about the idea of “trying to leave a mark” in life, but feeling like it won't matter in the long run and also exploring the insignificance that we all feel as people.

That being said, I can see why this song made you think of Leona! It brought up some feelings about what being second-born in a royal lineage means and how that can make someone feel insignificant just in concept. The spare heir if you will. 

It's interesting because it also made me think about how Leona has such complicated feelings about his title too?

Like on the one hand, he feels like he's “forever in the shadow of Falena” but at the same time, I DO think a small part of him secretly enjoys the mobility of not having the reasonability of king and therefore the first few lines of the song before it fades into him sounding more melancholic made me think of this.

(AND ALSO since we’ve seen how he would handle being king in his Chapter 7 Dream OOF.) My thoughts on that: X

The second son– My father's wrong (THIS LINE TOO) It's got to be the easiest role on Earth Just play around Just play along Enjoy the bounty of my birth So what's today's amusement For this second son? Which one shall I choose from so many kinds of fun?

I think it leads back to the age-old conclusion about Leona’s character (that his dream really hammered home), is that being king is NOT what he truly wants and it more comes to feeling worthy as a person as if he has to “justify” his own existence of feeling useless. It’s more about the kind of attention he craves. To be useful, respected, adored. 

The song mentions the fear of not leaving behind a legacy and feeling the weight of your own insignificance as a person. I can see how both the characters of Moses and Leona both struggle with “finding their purpose” and not being able to see their own worth like others who care about them do. 

It made me think of the song (also in Prince of Egypt) “Through Heaven's Eyes” which I feel actually continues this theme. The idea that even if you can’t see your OWN value that everyone—has their own innate value as people—and that in itself is meaningful.

A single thread in a tapestry Though its color brightly shines Can never see its purpose In the pattern of the grand design And the stone that sits on the very top Of the mountains mighty face Does it think it's more important Than the stones that form the base?

For Leona—the people he acts as a mentor to like—Ruggie, Epel and Savanaclaw as a whole—have a pretty high opinion of him despite his flaws. And the fact that he can’t always see that and appreciate that value that he unconsciously and consciously brings to them reflects this. He has and will leave an impact even if it's not as “important” as a king. And he could do even more good if he actually tried to do so.

I think it’s a lesson we all struggle with TBH, the whole: seeing our inherent value as people and it’s def why I think Leona is a more relatable character than he first appears in twst. :3

Thank you for sharing with me though! I love finding stuff like this! I hope you have a wonderful day/night!💚

[queerofthedagger]

went outside for the first time in a week (shh i was sick) and it finally feels like autumn oh my god like. it's getting dark at 7pm and stays dark for 12 hours and the days are getting shorter and we're finally getting into the half of the year where I'm thriving i'm so happy i'm going to cry fuck

[lgcmjun]

ꜜ chemistry, with @lgcyoojoon

evaluations are always hard on minjun, no matter how confident he was feeling at the time and the one he went through just a few hours ago left him floorless. he could still feel his hands shaking and his throat closed, his face burning with shame when the words coming from his dance teacher echoed in his ears again - he wasn't breathing properly, his voice was weak, he couldn't match the tempo of the choreography. his stress levels were so high that he was grateful his roommates weren't there right now, so he could cry and yell and thrash the place (not really) and no one would witness it.

still pretty much on the edge even after taking a shower, he chooses the only safe option around, his eyes falling on the small package delivered to him earlier that morning, a treat from his brother - cooking always made him feel detached from his routine so if that doesn't help him, at least he would have a batch of cookies to eat. it's a win-win situation, in the end, he thinks as he starts to open the cabinets in the dorm's kitchen, gathering all the ingredients he needs for his recipe.

minjun isn't surprised when a familiar face gets in front of him, with a concerned look. the stupid invisible string connecting him and yoojoon is so evident that even if he tries to hide from him that everything is okay, he'd sound like a fake liar; also his shaking hands are a dead giveaway anyways. "thought you'd be busy, hyung." he speaks quietly, adding flour to a bowl, cautiously. "you didn't need to come."

[tam--lin]

Well when *I* went to Cuba, my brother and I both got food poisoning separately within a week of each other and I had to drag myself out in public to sit in the public square to use the only wifi network available in walking distance just to call my mom for five minutes on Christmas day.

[glacialswordsman]

ᴛᴀɢ ᴅᴜᴍᴘ 𝟏 / ?

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ behind the scenes. ⊰ ooc ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ on stage. ⊰ ic ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ beneath the mask. ⊰ headcanons ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ fanmail. ⊰ answered asks ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ pass the script. ⊰ ask prompt ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ shine the spotlight. ⊰ promo ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ intermission. ⊰ queue ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ character study. ⊰ musings ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ afterpiece. ⊰ dash games ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ between engagements. ⊰ dash commentary ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ break character. ⊰ crack ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ center of interest. ⊰ self-promo ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ cinematography. ⊰ video ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ artistic director. ⊰ my art ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ expository scene. ⊰ closed starter ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ curtain time. ⊰ thread ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ curtain call. ⊰ thread end ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ death at the box office. ⊰ dni ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ dramaturgy. ⊰ aesthetic ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ encore. ⊰ music ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ aesthetic distance. ⊰ wip ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ mise-en-scène. ⊰ art ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ improvisation. ⊰ open starter ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ melpomene. ⊰ introspection ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ dressing room. ⊰ visage ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ soliloquy. ⊰ one-shot ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ public address system. ⊰ psa ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ theater program. ⊰ pinned ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ slapstick. ⊰ meme ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ callbacks. ⊰ saved ⊱

[fragmentedblade]

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[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[catchastarorten]

—Morning and breakfast.

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x wife!fem!reader

Summary: a peaceful, comfortable morning in bed with Jun-ho led to the two of you making breakfast together, though breakfast was soon forgotten when he decided to focus on you instead.

Content: pure fluff, Jun-ho being needy and affectionate, cuddles, kisses/bits of making out, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.2k

The mornings with Jun-ho were always your favorite. The sunlight shining through the curtains, the soft rustle of bedsheets, and the weight of Jun-ho beside you made everything feel whole. Complete.

His breathing was slow and steady, his arms draped over your waist. Peace was a luxury he had only learned to embrace after he met you. After everything he had endured—the disappearance of his brother, the island, the betrayals—you cherished seeing him like this, unguarded and calm.

You stirred slightly, stretching a bit beneath the blanket. It was enough to rouse him.

Without opening his eyes, his grip on you tightened, and he let out a content hum. The sound was warm, and so was the feeling of his body close to yours.

“Morning,” you murmured, your voice heavy with sleep.

Jun-ho responded with a groggy noise. “Morning,” he mumbled.

Before you could roll away, he shifted downward until he was under the covers. He rested his head on your stomach, his lips brushing lazy kisses over your skin. His breath was warm, and you heard a soft groan from him, drawing a soft laugh out of you despite your drowsy state.

“Jun-ho,” you said, your voice still tinged with sleep. “What are you doing?”

His answer was muffled beneath the blanket, his lips ghosted over your stomach as he spoke. “Staying right here.”

“Come out,” your hand instinctively found his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands.

“No,” he said simply, a smile in his voice as he nuzzled closer. His hands rested on your sides, holding you gently, as though you might slip away if he didn’t. “I like it here. Warm. Safe.”

You sighed, but there was no real frustration to it. How could there be? You’d seen him at his lowest, drowning in uncertainty and grief, haunted by questions that had no answers. You’d been there through the nights when the weight of his memories felt too heavy. Those moments when you were there for him had chipped away at his walls, slowly revealing the man underneath—vulnerable and loving.

“Alright, fine,” you relented. “But don’t blame me if you suffocate down there.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he let out a soft muffled laugh, shifted slightly underneath the blanket.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture it perfectly—the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners, the smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re impossible,” you said, though you made no move to push him away.

“I’ve been told that before,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “But you married me anyway.”

Eventually, he surfaced, his head popping out from beneath the blanket. His hair was a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and yet he’d never seemed more at peace when he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Your fingers brushed a stray piece of his hair back and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, slow and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. And maybe he did.

Later, the two of you were in the kitchen, making breakfast together. You stood by the counter, absentmindedly slicing fruit, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the sight of him walking over to the fridge, then the cabinets, wearing that faded t-shirt you loved seeing him in.

As Jun-ho turned to bring the plates over to the counter, he caught your eyes and paused. His expression shifted, a smile spreading across his lips as he took you in.

He set the plates down and padded over to you, then you felt his arms wrap around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, the warmth that radiated from him, and the quiet hum of his happiness filling the space.

Just as you turned around to reach for a bowl, you felt his hands on your waist. With one smooth motion, he lifted you onto the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise, and before you could say a word, he stepped between your legs, fitting himself there like he belonged, his body against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Jun-ho," you started, your voice carrying both exasperation and fondness, your hands instinctively resting on his shoulders to steady yourself.

You fell silent when his eyes held yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his head tilting slightly, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

His hands rested gently on your thighs, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of your pajamas. You could feel his breath against your lips. He paused there, his smile deepening as his gaze lingered on your face.

“I was just thinking,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement. “Breakfast can wait.”

“Yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow,

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed.

Jun-ho tilted his head slightly, and he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before angling his lips to meet yours.

It started soft and slow, his lips brushing over yours with an almost reverent tenderness. His hands slid up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer.

When he pulled back just enough to break the kiss, he let his lips trail along the curve of your jaw, then down to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along your skin. The sensation sent shivers down your spine.

“What are you doing?” you asked, though your voice had softened.

He didn’t stop, his lips pressing against the curve of your neck before he murmured against your skin. “Having breakfast.”

You smacked his shoulder lightly. “Alright, enough. Get off of me now.” you said half-heartedly.

He buried his face deeper into your neck, nuzzling into you like an overgrown puppy, letting out a noise of complaint as if your half-hearted smack had actually hurt.

You slipped your fingers under his chin, gently tilting his head up so he had no choice but to look at you. There was a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache in the best way.

“If you’re going to kiss me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you should do it right.”

You didn’t give Jun-ho a chance to respond. Closing the small distance between the two of you, you brought your lips to his in a kiss that made him melt against you. It was slow and deliberate, your fingers threading through his hair as you deepened the kiss, his hands went to rest on your waist as if he was anchoring himself to the moment.

Your fingers buried in his hair, tangling in the soft strands. When you gently tugged, his reaction was immediate. A soft sound escaped him, somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and you felt the shiver that ran through his body. It was such a raw, unguarded sound, and it made you smile. His lips faltered against yours for a fraction of a second, and then he responded with renewed fervor.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his disheveled hair, his slightly kiss-swollen lips, and the faint blush on his face. His eyes searched yours with a vulnerability that made your heart warm.

“I love you,” he murmured.

[sushiyuzu]

my turn

warning: fluff + comfort — it is finally your turn to return your devoted love and affection to soft!sylus 🤍

a/n: hi anon! many thanks for ur sweet words and request, i hope you enjoy <3

anon’s request / link: click here

hmm.

you’ve never seen sylus this quiet before.

you’ve always known sylus to be the confident one—the serious, bold, intimidating man who always seems to have everything under control. he’s the one who teases you with his smooth, elegant words, who pulls you close with a charming smile that makes your heart race. but today, you decide it’s your turn to change things up.

he’s sitting quietly in the living room, reading a book with that focused expression he gets when he’s deep into something. you take a moment to watch him, admiring his handsome face and the way his silver hair falls over his forehead. you’ve never seen him look so calm, so peaceful. a playful idea forms in your mind, and before you can second-guess it, you move closer.

you slip into his lap without warning, wrapping your arms around his neck. his eyes widen, his crimson gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“what are you doing?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, the usual edge of authority still there. you smile and lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“nothing,” you say softly, your lips brushing his skin. “just loving you.”

before he can respond, you kiss him again—this time on the other cheek, then on his jaw, your fingers threading through his silver hair. you can feel his body tense beneath you, his posture rigid like he’s not sure how to handle your sudden affection.

“you’re being... very forward,” he murmurs, his deep voice wavering slightly. clearly, he’s trying to keep his composure, but you can see the blush creeping up his cheeks, the way his eyes are flickering with uncertainty. it’s just so unlike him that it makes you giggle.

“i can’t help it,” you say, tightening your arms around him, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. “you’re just so handsome.” your voice is soft and sincere, and you watch as his confident mask slips just a little.

he swallows, his crimson eyes wide as he stares at you, clearly not used to you being this bold.

you decide to push him further, to see just how flustered you can make him. “i love you,” you whisper against his ear, your voice sweet and affectionate. you press a kiss to his temple, then his nose, then his lips. he freezes, his breath hitching, and you can feel the way his heartbeat racing against your chest.

“what has gotten into you?” sylus asks, his usual smooth tone cracking just a bit. he looks genuinely taken aback, his elegant words faltering as you continue to pepper his face with soft kisses. you giggle again, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his neck.

“just loving you,” you say again, more firmly this time.

“you always take care of me, so now it’s my turn to show you how much you mean to me.” you smile, your eyes shining with warmth, and he blinks at you like he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening.

and that almost makes you burst out laughing.

keyword: almost.

“you’re... ridiculous,” he mutters, his voice low and unsteady, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—only a soft, shaky vulnerability. his hands settle on your waist, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear. “you’re supposed to be the shy one, not me.”

you smile wider, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “maybe i’m tired of being shy,” you tease gently. “maybe i want you to be the one who blushes for once.”

his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s about to say something clever, but the words seem to catch in his throat. instead, he just stares at you, his crimson gaze searching your face, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his usual composure. you feel a surge of affection for him—this strong, confident man who’s so easily undone by your love.

so you kiss him again, long and slow, your hands framing his face, your thumbs brushing over his high cheekbones. this time, he doesn’t resist. he melts into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist, squeezing your flesh gently and you feel him shudder against you. when you finally pull back, his face is flushed, his breathing uneven, and he looks... shy. truly shy, like he’s never been before.

“you’re... unbelievable,” he says softly, his voice a little hoarse, his eyes half-lidded and warm. you can see the struggle in him—wanting to regain control, to be the calm and composed sylus that you know, but your gentle touches are making it impossible for him to act like his usual self.

and it drives him nervously crazy.

“so are you,” you reply, kissing his forehead. you can see him fighting the blush that’s spreading across his cheeks, his eyes glancing away like he’s embarrassed, and it makes your heart swell with warmth. you cup his face, guiding his gaze back to yours, and you can see the way he’s holding back a smile.

“you really are beautiful, you know that?” you say, your voice gentle and sincere. “i don’t tell you that enough.” you lean closer, pressing your lips to his ear. “you mean the world to me, sylus. i love you so much.”

you feel him tremble beneath you, his grip on your waist tightening, and you pull back just enough to see his expression—completely soft, completely open. he’s not trying to hide anymore, and there’s something incredibly sweet about seeing him this vulnerable, this undone by your love.

“you’re going to make me go insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and there’s a rough, raw honesty in his tone that takes your breath away. he’s not used to being the one overwhelmed, but he’s not pushing you away, either. instead, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath.

“then let’s go insane together,” you say softly, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. he makes a soft sound, almost a whimper, and kisses you back—slow and deep and so full of emotion that it makes your heart skip a beat.

you pull away just enough to see his face—his eyes half-lidded, his cheeks a warm shade of pink, and his expression so soft it makes your chest ache.

“you don’t have to be perfect with me,” you whisper, brushing a strand of silver hair away from his forehead. “i love you just as you are.”

he’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours, and then he smiles—a real, gentle smile that makes his ruby eyes shine. “i love you most, sweetie.” he says softly, his voice steady and sincere, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, and you hug him tight, burying your face in his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel the way he’s finally letting go of that careful, controlled exterior. he’s just sylus now—your sylus, the one who loves you with all his heart, who isn’t afraid to show you his softer side.

oh, he’s so in love.

only with you.

just you, forever.

while you’re lost in the warmth of his hug, you suddenly feel his lips touch your shoulder. there’s a small, teasing pause, and then he gently nibbles at your skin—a light bite that makes you shiver. you gasp quietly, your heart fluttering with surprise, but before you can even react, he follows it with a soft, gentle kiss, pressing his lips where he cutely bit you. the touch is warm and comforting, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“sylus,” you whisper his name, a little surprised but mostly filled with affection, and he laughs quietly, the sound low and sweet. he’s still holding you close, his breath warm against your neck, and you can feel that he’s smiling—like he’s happy to share this new, tender closeness with you.

and deep down, that makes you giddy.

“i couldn’t resist,” he says in a soft whisper, his voice gentle and playful in your ear. his tone still carries a hint of his usual confidence, but it’s softer now. his arms pull you even closer, and you can feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart as you lean against his chest.

“you’re just too tempting,” he adds, his lips brushing your shoulder again. you can’t help but laugh softly, holding him tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck. you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling warmth spread through you—a feeling of love that fills every corner of your heart.

“and you,” you say softly, your voice full of love, “are absolutely perfect.”

he makes a quiet, happy sound, gently nuzzling his face into your neck. you can feel him smile against your skin, his warmth so close and comforting. his fingers start to trace gentle patterns on your back, moving slowly, and you can tell he’s calm and relaxed. his breathing slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and you feel safe and happy in his arms.

you stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, for a long time. the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, and it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. his strong, big arms keep you close, and you can feel every bit of him—the warmth of his chest, the softness of his breath, the way he holds you like he never wants to let go.

you lift your head slightly, just enough to look into his sweet eyes. there’s something more softer in them now, something that’s just for you.

only for you.

you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, slow and warm, and he kisses you back, his hand moving up to cradle your cheek. you feel his thumb gently brush your skin, and he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

when you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-closed and his face relaxed. he looks softer, more open than ever before, and it makes your heart ache with love.

you give him one more quick kiss on the tip of his nose, making him chuckle softly. he tightens his arms around you, holding you so close that you can feel the warmth of his body all around you.

“i love you,” you whisper, and you say it again, over and over, softly against his skin—each “i love you” gentle and full of emotion. he closes his eyes, listening, and you feel the way he relaxes even more, like each word you say fills him with warmth.

he lets out a quiet sigh, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, and you can feel him melt into your touch. his strong, protective exterior has softened, and you can see a slight blush on his cheeks, a sign that he’s a little overwhelmed by all the affection you’re giving him. but he doesn’t move away. he just stays right there, holding you tightly, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, soaking up every bit of your love.

you don’t let go either. instead, you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his warm breath fanning your skin while his fingers continue to gently stroke your back.

you’re both wrapped up in a safe, warm bubble where nothing else matters except the two of you, and you know that this—being with sylus, being this close—is all you’ll ever need. and you know, in that moment, that this is exactly where you belong—right here in his arms, loving him with all the warmth and affection he truly deserves.

[luveline]

hey lovely!! can we maybe get some more pregnant bombshell and spencer??

“What I’ve decided,” you say, reclining back against Spencer’s lap with all the air of a resting empress, “is that I don’t actually like being pregnant.” 

Spencer startles, as does Hotch. JJ doesn’t flinch. “It’s awful,” she says. 

You’re too pregnant to terminate the pregnancy, now. Thirty weeks, your stomach a bump you pretend doesn’t exist when you aren’t holding a hand to it. “I love my baby,” you say, letting Spencer relax again underneath you, “but this is inhumane.” 

“It’s one of the most human experiences you could ever live through,” Spencer says. People have been having babies since the beginning of time. 

“I wonder if you’d feel that way if you were the pregnant one.” You slip further down into his lap, shuffling across the jet’s couch to let your head rest on his thigh. Your chin tips up, your lips curling into a painted smile. He could kiss every bit of lipstick off of your mouth if you didn’t have an audience. 

“I just mean, it’s intrinsically human to reproduce. Not that your feelings aren’t real. Sorry.” 

“Ooh, sorry,” you mumble, giving him a playful, almost daring smirk. “Doghouse for you, handsome. You know you’re supposed to agree to everything I say.” 

“I know.” 

“Is it hard?” Hotch asks. Not unaware that it is, in fact, very hard, but probing you to open up further should you want to. Spencer probably should’ve asked you first, he thinks. He holds your face in apology. 

“Hotch, it’s like… It’s hard because it doesn’t stop. Sometimes I don’t notice, I don’t feel any different, but when I’m nauseous or when it’s barely five and my back aches like I’ve been carrying a dumbbell all day… I don’t know.” 

“It’s alright to not enjoy it,” Spencer says. “You don’t have to think it’s fun. You can hate every second of it, if you want.” 

“I don’t. Really, I don’t. Just tired.” 

“You could be in the field less,” Hotch suggests. 

You cover your eyes with your hand. “Don’t suggest big things to me.” 

“It’s up to you when you want to stop. But don’t think you can’t take a break. Even if next week you want to come back.” Hotch smiles. “After all, you’re the brains of the operation. You can consult through video, like Penelope.” 

You laugh at being called the brains, stretching your legs out, stockings shining down the lengths of you like they’ve suffered a sudden rain. “It’s not about being tired. I’m exhausted, but it’s just strange sometimes, that’s all. I don’t always feel like me.” 

Spencer lets his hand fall to your chest, rubbing a short line under your collar he hopes is soothing.

“It’s the emotional aspect too,” JJ says. “All the hormones.” 

“Yeah, it is,” you say. 

Spencer hears the unhappiness threaded in your tone, but he’s not sure what to do. Hotch and JJ realise you’re done talking for now and return to their own devices, a new quiet descending over the jet, the only sound the rush and hum of air. Spencer keeps on rubbing that same spot over your chest. Your eyes close. He knows you too well to think you’re sleeping. 

“Are you really unhappy?” he asks quietly. 

“No, Spence. Didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know. It’s alright if you aren’t happy.” 

“I’m mostly happy.” 

“I want you to be a hundred percent happy.”

“I don’t think I can be right now.” 

He lets his pinky dip under the neckline of your shirt. Your skin is soft. “Okay. Don’t be happy if you can’t be. I’m here no matter what.” 

You sigh softly and twist on your side, your nose pressing into his stomach, the heat of your breath slowly transferring through his shirt to his skin. Spencer brings his hand around with you, holding the back of your neck as you make yourself comfortable. 

“I love you, I swear,” you whisper. “And her.” 

“I know it’s not about love. Pregnancy can be an evil, heavy, horrible thing to go through. Don’t feel like you have to pretend it’s not. There’s gestational diabetes, morning sickness, high blood pressure, night sweats, depression…” Spencer ducks down to press his cheek briefly to your temple. “If you liked all that, there’d be something wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with how you feel, okay?” 

“Okay.” You kiss his shirt. 

“Massage?” he offers. 

“Yes!” You wriggle closer to him and shiver happily as his hand finds the knot between your shoulders. “That’s a pro for this whole ordeal. You could open a massage parlour with hands like that. They’d call it Reid’s Reflexology.” 

“Yeah? Is that a hint for a foot massage?” 

You giggle like you’ve been tickled. JJ groans in her seat with reluctant fondness, while Hotch murmurs, “Let’s keep it PG-13, please.” 

[drchucktingle]

sometimes buds ask’ what is it like to be a neurodivergent artist?’ and this is great summary: the charts can look like this, and at same time people will be endlessly posting on how you are ‘not real’ or ‘a bit’. you can hold bestsellers in slot 1 to 4 and still not be 'serious'

i am ultimately ok with this. i love my trot and would not have it any other way, but i think it is worth investigation. when irony poisoning has seeped into everything, how many times does a neurodivergent person have to say ‘actually this is NOT so bad its good. its just good’

when you are autistic, or queer, or both, how much proof do you need to be considered good art? or good business? what do the charts have to look like for me to be a ‘real’ author? or allowed my face mask at a library association conference? or one person not a group of writers?

im coming up on a decade of writing tinglers soon, and people are still talkin about my ‘serious’ works vs my ‘joke books’ and at every turn, as kindly as i can, i shout from the rooftops: THEY ARE ALL SERIOUS BOOKS. THIS IS NOT A BIT.

but its hard when buds have had ‘the correct way to be a writer. the correct way to be an artist. the COOL way to react to a book that is TOO weird’ pounded into their heads by internet culture. 'kill it with fire' they say. 'i need eye bleach' they say without thinking. a line.

heres the thing, the tide IS turning. theres buckaroos jumping in and saying, ‘I want to be a part of this’ and for that they are being rewarded. the publisher who took me seriously is lookin pretty dang good right now with these charts and these sales. i am honored and moved

over time there will be more buds who shed that irony mask. the tide of sincerity is powerful, and the tide of love is inevitable. it is difficult to stand strong in our uniqueness but it also pays off, and I hope to be a shining example. eventually THE TIMELINE BENDS TO YOU

so this is not a thread to complain. i have been trotting long enough that these things do not really bother me. being made fun of and disparaged as ‘not legit art’ while also being objectively successful at the things im made fun of about is kind of the ocean that i swim in.

no. my point of this is to say THANK YOU to those of you who have been trotting by my side over these years. THANK YOU for proving love to me. im so honored by your support, and you should know that YOU have seen beyond the irony poisoned veil that stops many others. YOU get it.

and to those with their own unique perspective on creation: look what you can do. yes there will likely be a lot of resistance to something different, but there is also a LOT of reward. YOU can trot a new path. YOU can prove love is real, not in MY way, but IN YOUR OWN WAY

anyway thank you for reading buckaroos. thank you for your support. LUCKY DAY comes out next summer and it is probably as FAR OUT and existential as the tingleverse has ever gone. you can preorder it here

[wiedzmacienia]

he thanks her and katarzyna has to wonder who in this candlelit room in the middle of a war should be thanking whom. she's never dared to allow herself to think upon a life outside of wars and conflicts and fighting. sure in that wooden home in hungary that her brother had built or within the confines of the castle walls the order held a sense of family could be found. yet their lives had been surrounded by the need for survival for so long, had become so routine in such a sense that to believe there could ever be hope for more had been a fantasy once she'd been reborn into what the order had made her. even when she had been... involved, it had been colored in a taint and she had resisted any notions of any true bond in the sight of god.

but now, even as war was ever-present in their lives, being here with benjamin caused something to stir within her. it caused something to spark with hope and light bringing with it thoughts of more than gore and horror. the gentleness of his touch, so foreign to her, made her crave it, the feeling of his love sung in the way his aura swirled around him and merged with her own. it opened some part of her heart that had been hidden away, bringing traces of that girl who dared to dream of so many things onto the surface, as if a part of her soul was reconnecting with itself, reforming the ashes she rose from into a marriage of past and present. she was the girl she used to be and the girl she had become in one.

and perhaps..

perhaps she didn't have to be one or the other. oh, she thinks maybe she should be the one thanking him, for the feeling which washes over her is one she wants to hold onto. despite the events of earlier in the night, despite the worries of war and traitors and death and risks, she felt irrevocably content in this moment with him, her face buried into his chest with flushed features upon her skin.

"i'm not used to.. this." she speaks into his chest as she feels him nuzzle into her crown. "i'm not used to tenderness and care.." the marks on her body were enough to speak to that. "i'm not..." she pauses, lifting her head to look upon him as her hair falls out of her face. "-- thank you. i-i don't think i understood what love.. or, what this kind of love really was until now." there's a vulnerability to her admission, truth and honesty unfiltered. for now, in this room she felt laid bare in more ways than one and for the first time such didn't scare her. quite the opposite.

she circles back then, to his previous comment, a soft smile crossing her features. "and-- perhaps i do. intend to ensnare you completely and utterly, i mean." too soon his thoughts drift back to the world outside of this moment and her hold on him tightens slightly, as if she can not bare the thought of separating. not yet at least.

"soon, but not yet. let him stew in agony at least until morning light." she reaches a hand out and cups the side of his face for a moment, letting her hand continue up to his hair, moving some of it from his eyes and then running it through his hair. she likes his hair like this, down and slightly unkept from what they'd shared, she decides, face flushing more upon the thought.

"i don't want to let the world in. not yet. i just want to be here with you, in this moment for as long as we can." in his arms, in the safety of a room where for a mere few hours they could have some form of peace in each other, holding each other, chasing each other's nightmares away.

Benjamin was still sensitive -- achingly so -- and once Katarzyna's lips started trailing down his chest, he squirmed beneath the sweet pressure of her mouth with a breathless laugh. "Me? A warlock?" he asked. "I know I'm prone to self-loathing, but even that would've been extreme, given our introduction."

A soft, sated smile touched his face, and then he lifted a hand to cup her cheek, gently running his thumb back and forth over her full bottom lip. "Thank you," he murmured. For choosing me, for helping me, for loving me.

Katarzyna flashed an almost impish smile. "oh-- i think we should have such stirrings with each other often."

Unbidden, his face flooded pink and he grinned. "You mean to ensnare me completely," he accused. "Though from where I'm sitting -- or rather, lying -- I could see the benefit from this arrangement."

Katarzyna appeared embarrassed, and then she buried her face into his chest. Nuzzling into the top of her crown, Benjamin murmured, "It's all right. You certainly didn't say anything I wasn't already thinking..."

Thoughts of a future family, a future love often entangled him throughout his day-to-day life, and as he laid there wrapped up within her arms, it suddenly seemed possible -- it suddenly was tangible and real -- and brushing his lips over her hair, he murmured, "I suppose we should return to our inquisition soon. Hickey will crack...I'll make certain of it."

[p1nkshield]

I made a post earlier about how Dick should have taught Damian to use his baby face to his advantage and someone said he would teach all of his siblings. So here is the aftermath. A task force specifically designed to bring Bruce down.

Dick: Hey B, I was wondering if we could borrow the Batmobile for the weekend?

Bruce: … [no]

Dick: Pretty please I promise it will be in one piece when I give it back!

Bruce: Hnn. [Still no]

Dick: Fine then, you’ve forced my hand. ATTACK!

Tim steps forward, yawning and promising to try and sleep properly.

Bruce loses two health points.

Duke is next in the initiative order.

Duke: It would be fun!

The full power of the sun shines through his smile.

Bruce falters but passes a quick time event in his head, only losing another two health points.

Cass steps up to the plate.

Cass: I would like to go on an outing with my siblings, it sounds fun.

CRITICAL HIT!

Bruce is starting to sweat as a total of ten health points are swept away by the fact cass considers them family.

Damian decides to use his special attack! Holding the target’s sleeve makes it especially effective!

Damian: Baba, please?

A whopping fifty points! BRUCE IS HANGING ON BY A THREAD!

Jason: c’mon Dad.

Fatality

Bruce: fine.

Dick: Great job team!

Damian: yes, we got the Batmobile successfully. I will drive.

Dick: No-

[syluriar]

drying hair - sylus x mc reader

sypnosis: literally just sylus drying your hair because he's whipped for you.

a/n: just had this cute thought of sylus drying your hair because for me personally i'm not a fan of it, and that's just one of the reasons why sylus would do it for you, other than that he loves the hell out of you. also not proud how i eneded this, writing has been a bitch latley because my brain won't work with me :( also no grammer check because i'm TIRED.

contains: mc!reader. sylus teasing you but you tease him back. call back to grassland romance. you thinking on your feelings for sylus. just bascially fluff.

word count: 1366

“Can I dry your hair, sweetie?”

It was a simple question, but it made you freeze and look at Sylus, who was towering above you from your seasted position at your desk, hair dryer in hand and ready to go. 

Curiosity filled you at his offer, and other times you would have followed it, bothering Sylus until he either revealed why or you would do your own investigation. 

But your arms were already aching from the towel drying, and you really did want to relax today after a grueling day fighting Wanders and filling reports. You had planned the rest of the day for ultimate relaxation and the only thing that would make it worse was drying your hair, a process you had to admit was not enjoyable for you.

So if you can get out of it, why not? 

“Ok,” You give him a nod. “Sure.”

And Sylus looked…absolutely delighted. His eyes shined and his smile was pure and you pondered why he’s reacting that way to do something for you, then again could you really be surprised? He’s made it known that he is at your beck and call, anything you want he’ll get you. You’re positive that if you asked him that you wanted a specific food item that can only be obtained within it’s country, Sylus would get it for you the next day. 

Those gestures still made you nervous as you weren’t used to such things, but at least now you graciously accept them instead of telling him off and refusing his gifts. Now it was cheeks burning and heart pounding, and your still quite puzzled on how your feelings for him have changed.

You forget about the hair dryer until it’s turned on in his hands, the buzzing pulls you our of your thoughts and focuses on the man now behind you. His free hand threads through your damp hair, fingernails just grazing your skull and you hold back a shiver of delight at the touch. 

“Hold still now, kitten.” 

The warm air hits you like a gentle breeze as Sylus starts the task, his fingers gentle as they part your hair to reach every part, the dryer not staying in one place too long to avoid a burning sensation on your skull. 

With your hands empty, your fingers fidget together, unsure of what to do. You have the twitch you squirm which you fight against, so you keep your eyes down, focusing on the flower pattern on your silk nightgown, another gift from Sylus.

You hear a chuckle lined with amusement that spreads embarrassment through your body. “Head up, sweetie.”

You can imagine the look on his face, that teasing smirk with creased corners at his eyes that holds mirth. You swallow and push back your fluster as you raise your head, your eyes promptly looking back into the mirror and ranking over the state of your hair, only to catch his own staring back at you.

They’re enchanting, like ruby gems that only shine for you. Flowers dead in a field that will only bloom in your presence, something poisonous that is only sweet on your tongue. The way he looks at you was as if you were the only thing that existed in the universe, the way they radiate and all the emotions they hold just for you is…exhilarating. 

A silent gasp leaves your lips when you notice how long you’ve been staring at Sylus through the mirror, and how he’s been staring back. His hand slides from your hair to your bare shoulder, his touch sending a shock of electricity through your body. 

“You’ve been staring for a while, kitten. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You push the comment, trying not to let him get under your skin. “Just making sure you know what your doing. Messing with my hair isn’t something you should do.”

“Oh?” He’s teasing again, that damn smirk back on his lips. His eyes leave yours as he threads his fingers through your hair again. “I assure you, sweetie, that I would never mess with your hair, or don’t you remember what I said back in the Grasslands?”

“I like your hair.”

Of course you remember that, you remember everything that happened when the two of you were transported to another place, either back in time or another universe, your still not quite sure, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. It was a turning point for your relationship with Sylus, where you allowed the two of you to go closer and accepted that your feelings towards him were growing. 

“...I remember.” Your cheeks burning as you admit it - remember it. His fingers grazed through your hair like he’s doing now. “I also remember you saying that you would work on your braiding skills.”

He hums, which isn’t as off-key as his singing, thankfully. “But to do that I would need a lot of time practicing on your hair to honor my skills.” He looks back at you through the mirror, catching your still eyes. “Would you give me your permission, kitten?”

You imagine it, days of Sylus’ fingers combing through your hair as he braids the threads, tutorials playing as he watches intensely, pins and all sorts on your desk to hold his work in place. You imagine yourself, helping him through it all, teasing him when he’s stuck and cheering him up if something goes wrong.

It feels nice, domestic even. 

You can’t help but smile at it, your stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of doing such things with Sylus. 

“I would.”

He gives a huff of amusement, but the smile on his lips is pure and real. Perhaps he’s been thinking of such things with you, and it makes you feel giddy. 

He goes back to drying your hair and you close your eyes, finally relaxing. You allow yourself to sink into his touch as his fingers comb through your hair, enjoying how gentle and peaceful it makes you feel. 

“All done.” Sylus clicks off the dryer and you open your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror, ranking over the state of your now dried hair

You hum. “Not bad for your first time.”

“I’ll take that,” He chuckles. “Though like I said before, I would need to practice more on you to get it right.”

“You have permission for that as well.”

“Good.” 

His fingers are back in your hair and your amazed how at ease it makes you feel, giving him permission to touch your hair more might be better for yourself rather than him. 

Though you wonder…

You turn and look at him, redness on your cheeks as you retort. “As long as I can do the same to your hair.”

He looks surprised by your words and it makes you feel smug as you don’t get that reaction often. But he finally smiles and cups your cheeks, bringing your face so close to his that his nose brushes against yours. “You can do that and more to me, sweetie. I’ll never say no to you.”

Now your sure your a blushing mess, if not by your burning cheeks, then certainly by your pulsing heart that your positive Sylus hears. 

God, how does this man make you feel this way so easily? 

To hide it all you tease him back. “That’s a pretty big statement to say Sylus. Never say no to me? I wonder how far I can go with that.”

“I look forward to finding out, kitten.” He replies before leaning back, but not before booping your nose. “Now it’s time for bed. I remember a certain someone saying they were going to sleep early to improve their health.”

You don’t even get up from the chair as Sylus has you in his arms in seconds, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips as he carries you to the bed, laying you down gently and settling down beside you.. 

“Rest now.” His arms wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest as you cuddle under the silk sheets. “We have fun days ahead of us, so make sure not to be tired once they come.”