#READERS READ UP

[internetdataandfilereadersreadup]

INTERNET DATA AND FILE READERS READ UP

[yeyinde]

Ghost is so petty to me. You tell him he can't cum inside of you once (because you have an important meeting and the last thing you need is to feel him leaking out of you while your boss talks about strategic goals for this fiscal year), and so he spends the next month using nothing but condoms or finishing on your face, back, belly just to piss you off.

Ignores you each time you whine for him to just finish inside of you with a mocking little but you told me not to, pet. M'jus' doin' what I was told and fills the condom instead. Spends next day fucking you until the box is empty, taunting you with each one he ties off and drops on the bed beside your head for you to see. To whine about. Turns you on your belly when you've grovelled enough, forcing you to see all the used condoms scattered around (that coulda been fillin' you up, birdie) as he fucks you until you apologise to him properly and then finally gives your "reward."

[niccolites]

friends with benefits!price except that is not how he views the situation

calling you both friends is a bit of a stretch, really you're his cute neighbour who always seems to need a pipe tightened under your sink, or your washing machine is always making a strange noise, if he could have a look?

and listen. you're a little lonely. inherited your parents house and the only neighbour that talks to you is the handsome older man next door who is barely there because of his work

you think you're being a bit forward when you bake him some muffins as a thank you the next time he's home. embarrassed at how earnest it is. his pupils blow wide at the sight of you standing in his doorway, bashful smile that quivers a little in the shadow of him

a tentative friendship, the barrier of neighbour just a hurdle as price views it

things come to a head when you cook him dinner and nervously gulp down glass after glass of wine. he nurses one and watches you. eyes like headlights and you have the quivering legs of a deer

bashful, shy, neighbour, acquaintance. these are weak-willed boundaries that you try to put in place, but price is always intent. driven. places a hand on your knee and accounts for the way you jump, the flex of flesh that absorbs your reactions. all catalogued, used against you

john just need you a little more loose, to understand things from his perspective. still so skittish, even with his head between your thighs, but his arm is a band around your middle, holding you firm until you finally get it

he lifts his head, your slick in his moustache and you're still so bashful even as your legs tremble

he bends you over the table with your home-cooked meal at your eye-line. feeds you his cock, smooths a hand down your spine until you melt into his praises

the next morning, beard burn on your inner thighs and cum leaking out of you from where he had turned you over and pushing your knees to your ears, 'until it took' he had said. you had been pretty out of it at that time. you sneak out. he lets you, eyes on you even as you think he is still asleep. you don't get it yet. that's fine, he'll get it through that surprisingly stubborn head of yours

every time he's back, he's at yours, lapping at your clit like its soothing him after a stressful time away. or you're at his, hands braced on the wall as he grunts behind you with each thrust.

its the most bizarre fwb situation you think anyone has been in, no time to talk about what is going on before he is dragging your mouth to his, thumb hard on your chin like he can stop the words before the curl on your tongue. fills your mouth with his spit then his cock to drown it out

you finally manage to slur out a joke about him being your fwb. your fucked out, draped out over his barrel chest, smoothing your hand through the hair there. he makes a disagreeing noise and you lift your head

he has your left hand in his, thumb on your ring finger. intent. driven. you're not getting it yet. living in that house, all on your own. lonely. he hears what you're trying to say sweetheart, that you're just too shy to articulate yet. i think we're well past friends, don't you think?

headlights. dear. the blank space before the crack of the crash. you let him tighten his hand around your ring finger.

[quarterlifekitty]

Thinking about the difference between being called bunny and rabbit by price

Bunny is a soft, helpless domestic little thing. Bred for his amusement (in more ways than one). Gets laid belly up, vulnerable and unaware, for Price to enjoy. Gets hand fed and carefully groomed. Bunny jumps in his lap the minute he sits down when he gets home.

Rabbit is a wide eyed, shaking prey animal that can recognize him for the predator that he is. Can see the glint of his sharp teeth. Gets chased down. Takes food in quick bursts, avoiding grabbing hands. Kicks their legs when finally caught. Needs to be held down firm with their face to the dirt, ass up, pussy presented while they get filled with his kits, teeth buried in their neck.

Edit: a little more

[kurohadiana]

Yoo Joonghyuk suddenly thought. If so, where do I live in those countless hours?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Actually, the bars aren't so bad anymore.

Think you can fix him? Read about his care instructions over at Tiger Tiger)

[ofswordsandpens]

percy, mentally ill: I feel like I deserve to die. It's a punishment because im a horrible person. Does that sound crazy?

jason, also mentally ill: No that tracks bro samesies

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[augustinewrites]

it’s been…a while since you and satoru have gone on an assignment together.

having two young children at home made it difficult to take off on short notice and be away for days at a time. they needed stability and routine, so the two of you had decided that one person would stay home while the other was working.

for a while, that’d worked fine. but now that megumi and tsumiki were older, self-sufficient teens who loved nothing more than being left alone, satoru had seen this as an opportunity.

you’d still been a little hesitant, but it was a simple surveillance mission. easy, right?

“water. you need to stay hydrated.” you instruct when he gets back into the car. he takes the water bottle you’re holding out, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig.

“gakuganji isn’t even home yet,” he reports with a sigh. you hum, distracted as you check your phone. gojo reaches across your knees to pull open the glovebox, rifling through colourful snack wrappers.

“tsumiki hasn’t texted me back,” you mutter. “should i ask nanami to check in on them?”

“nah, i’m sure they’re just super busy trashing the apartment and racking up charges on the emergency credit card. ah– found it!” he pulls out a black silk sleep mask, slipping it on so it rests on his forehead.

“really?” you ask, unimpressed as he holds a second one out to you. “you’re taking a nap?”

“yeah, it’ll be easier to sneak around when it’s dark, why stay awake till then?”

“is that a good idea?” you ask, though you know there’s really no point in trying to argue with his logic.

“your fault for keeping me awake all night. late night laundry folding is no joke.”

“if you’d put it in the dryer when i’d asked—”

“can’t hear you,” he sing-songs, pulling the mask over his eyes. “you can take a nap too, you know. that old fart couldn’t get past us even while asleep.”

“i’ll pass on the nap. need to wait for tsumiki to text.”

he grumbles something incoherent that you’re sure is meant to be argumentative as he reclines his seat a little and lays back, getting comfortable and quiet.

…for about 45 seconds.

you watch out of the corner of your eye as he pulls the mask up a half inch, just enough for his right eye to observe you.

“what do you want now?” you ask.

then, with casualty akin to asking what you want for lunch, he clears his throat and asks, “do you want to have sex?”

“do i want to have what?” you ask, turning to stare at him incredulously, but your face is hot and for a split second, you’d considered agreeing.

“sex,” he repeats, patting his lap with a shit-eating grin. “we’re going to be here for a while, anyways. these seats recline way back—”

“i am not having sex in this car with you, satoru!”

he groans over-dramatically (as he tends to do). “will you at least cuddle with me then? i’m desperate and touch-starved and hopelessly in love with you!”

you make a note to figure out what cheesy rom com he stole that line from, but lean across the console to trail kisses up his shoulder, his neck. satoru does nothing to protect himself from your overly affectionate onslaught, he’s quick to catch your jaw, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“wait. no, no, no!” he protests when you pull back, eyes suddenly trained on the house you’re meant to be watching. “you can’t just leave me high and dry—”

“he’s home!” you whisper, pressing a hand over his mouth (though he continues with muffled complaints). “pull the car a little further back before we get out.”

you’ve already summoned your shikigami as satoru maneuvers the car into the dense forestry, about to send them off when your phone vibrates in your lap.

“oh! megumi texted me,” you inform him. “he said…‘already made dinner. tsumiki is out on a date—’”

the car grinds to a halt and abruptly turns, the momentum causing your to slam into the side of the car as it peels out onto the dirt road. you curse loudly as your fiancé, devoid of all his playfulness from earlier, speeds through the forest.

“what the— satoru!”

[sunmoonyandstars]

it's actually okay to not read for a while. it's okay to only read one or two books a month. it's okay to not have a yearly reading goal. it's okay to read books that aren't all over the internet. it's okay to get books from the library or kindle and not buy a copy after.

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

A perfect Match- Tom Riddle x Reader

Summary; Tom gets love potioned-but doesn't lock onto the girl who had slipped it into his drink and is instead obsessed with a girl who soon holds a deeper understanding of Tom than anyone else ever would.

Warnings; Love potion use, drugging, murder, murder compliance, hiding evidence, helping make a dark lord. Tom being cute.

mostly fluff, with a detailed part about Tom making his diary Horcrux. I saw someone request for a reader who actually helped Tom become the dark lord so i put it in here cuz ive had this idea for a whileeee. enjoyyy

=

It was supposed to be a normal morning. The usual, breakfast and morning mail-slowly waking up with the chatter of friends and fellow students filling the great hall with noise.

What she absolutely did not expect-was for Tom riddle to profess his love for her-in the most out-of-character way.

Her friends were giggling while (y/n) stared in shock-Tom holding her hands to his chest as he leaned in way too close. “and who might you be darling?” Tom cooed, a flirtatious grin on his face as he leaned in close and (y/n) used the fact that he was holding her hands to his chest to push him away.

“uh-(y/n)?” (y/n) said awkwardly, looking back at her friends for help but they were just snickering. She looked back at Tom-noting the way his eyes were a bit-pink. Love potion. of course. “uh-mind-backing uuuup!”

(y/n) squealed as he sat down beside her, pulling her into his lap and burying his face in her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her waist-digging his hands into her sides as he inhaled deeply. “What a lovely name, (y/n).” he purred in her ear and she squirmed-putting her hands on his arms to push away but he didn’t budge.

“Help.” She mouths to her friends but they’re all snickering at the clearly love potioned Tom Riddle. She turns, seeing Tom’s friends walking up to her, Tom’s used cup in one’s hands.

“Love potion-someone must’ve slipped it in, saw you same time he took a sip.” One says-Rosier she thinks his last name was. The boy seem uncomfortable but also amused-watching Tom snuggle her into his lap-glaring at them, daring anyone to take his new love.

“yeah-got that-help.” (y/n) struggles out-squeaking as Tom kisses her neck and she accidentally elbows the side of his head-she only feels half bad, because he lets her go and she's on her feet in seconds.

Tom’s following her all too quickly and (y/n) is booking it down between the tables towards the main doors, praying she could make it to Slughorn before Tom could catch her-but he’s taller and quickly gaining on her.

Laughter from the great hall follow her ears but she has to ignore her embarrassment.

She skids to a stop right before a wall and twists around, jumping aside to avoid Tom-Tom slamming into the wall since he wasn’t expecting that. “sorry!” she yelps as blood drips from his nose-she feels terrible but she had to get to Slughorn before Tom did anything he’d regret.

She almost hesitates-wanting to see if she’d hurt his nose badly but then she gets a look at his eyes-pink-and she's running again, Tom stumbling up from the floor, dizzy but determined, following her.

She skips steps as she races down towards the dungeons towards Slughorn’s office and the potions classroom, she can hear Tom right behind her. She gets to the door-slamming it open without knocking-Tom slams into her and they both stumble into the room.

Slughorn, thankfully, was there-his eyes going wide with shock as his star pupil tumbled into the classroom-clinging to a girl who preferred to stay out of sight. “Professor-help!” she squealed, Tom’s arms tight around her and he inhaled her perfume, teeth grazing on her upper neck and she nearly elbows him again.

“Now now-what is going on?! Tom do get off her-what’s gotten into you my boy?” Slughorn rushes over, prying Tom off the poor girl as she scrambles to get out of his hold-Tom glaring wholeheartedly at Slughorn.

“Love potion-strong one-dunno who,” (y/n) breathes out from the other side of the classroom, Tom’s eyes locking onto her again and Slughorn sits him down before he can lunge at her.

“All right Tom, let me handle this yes?” Slughorn asks, hoping Tom will listen-and Tom huffs, his jaw clenching as he looks at (y/n) who tries to hide behind a work desk. Blood stains Tom’s nose and upper lip, and Slughorn quickly makes an antidote to the love potion. “Here you go my boy, drink up.” Tom glares at him, nearly baring his teeth.

“If you drink it, I'll kiss you,” (y/n) says to convince him and the love potioned Tom snatches the cup, drinking the antidote in one gulp. It takes a moment but when Tom lowers the cup, he looks confused.

“What…happened?” Tom asks, looking up at Slughorn as the professor chuckles warmly, taking the cup back.

“You were love potioned my boy, a pretty strong one too from how you were acting. Luckily it seemed you latched onto Ms. (l/n) instead of whoever was trying to have you, eh?” Slughorn joked and turned, Tom turned his gaze to (y/n), who was blushing heavily and standing up from her hiding spot.

“I…apologize for whatever I may have done, Ms. (l/n).” Tom said awkwardly, standing up from the desk he’d been sat at, wincing at the pain in his nose and the iron taste on his tongue, along with the slight pounding in the side of his head.

“It’s-it’s okay, uhm, I’m sorry for elbowing you and making you run into a wall.” (y/n) said, taking her wand out. “Episkey.” With a flick of her wand, Tom’s nose is repaired and he groans-the pounding in his head ebbing away. “Sorry,” (y/n) winces, putting her wand back in her robe sleeve holder.

“It’s fine.” Tom waved her off, wiping his nose and upper lip of blood-smearing it on his hand and he sniffs, cringing at the taste of blood. “Did i…do anything?” he asks, looking back at (y/n) and she shook her head, Tom’s shoulders dropping in relief.

“I never exactly gave you the chance to,” (y/n) mumbled and Tom sighed again, nodding.

“Thanks, I’d feel…bad if I had done something with neither of our consent.” He muttered and (y/n) nodded, the two standing across from each other, still awkward.

“Well-I’m-gonna go finish breakfast, bye.” (y/n) mumbled out and then she left the classroom, Tom’s eyes following her. How lucky he’d been to have her as his ‘target’, she hadn’t taken advantage of him-instead she’d gotten him an antidote as quickly as possible, though with minor injury.

This, strange-heartbreakingly rare-action has Tom intrigued with (y/n). Not many would pass up a chance with Tom, especially if he was love-potioned to do whatever they wanted, and obsession overpowered his logic.

And yet, she thought about him, and not herself.

How…kind.

He stalks after her, curiosity burning in his chest, along with anger at whoever had slipped the love potion into his drink.

-

Olive Hornby. A dreadful girl who bullied anyone ‘beneath’ her and was known to be a spoiled brat. Tom-he had to say-detested her, especially since she was the one to slip the potion into his drink, he found out only because she talked too loudly, complaining that ‘her plan’ hadn’t worked and that Tom had looked at (y/n) instead of her.

Olive Hornby proceeds to have horrid boils all over her body for the next week, painful and pus-filled boils that render her practically useless and pathetic-she clings to the hospital wing, begging Madam Tegner to give her potions and salves to get rid of the boils but they persist-a fitting punishment Tom thinks, for trying to control him-to take something that would never be hers.

And in return for her, kindness, (y/n) receives a bouquet of pretty Moon lilies paired with pink tulips. The gesture is clear-‘thank you’. She blinks, picking up the bouquet that had landed in front of her during breakfast, turning it over in her hands. “oh, that’s so beautiful, whose it from?” her friend asks and (y/n) turns it over, looking for a tag but sees no note, just initials.

T.M.R.

“It's from Tom, probably a thanks for getting him the antidote for the love potion.” (y/n) murmurs, her friend hums, admiring the bouquet.

(y/n) puts the flowers in a vase in on her bedside table, they were a very pretty bouquet, she had to easily admit. Tom knew his flowers-she looks up the meanings of both-Lilies Symbolize gratitude and appreciation, and pink tulips mean ‘thank you for your care’, a very sweet gesture of thanks from the presumed ‘untouchable’ Tom Riddle.

She doesn’t think on it further, assuming the ‘thank you’ bouquet was the last of her interactions with Tom.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t.

He asks her. On a fucking. Date.

Tom Riddle-asked HER on a DATE!!

“I’m sorry-what?” (y/n) sputters, flushed face half hidden by her Ravenclaw scarf, eyes wide as she looks at Tom-his hands tucked into his winter coat, eyes gleaming amused at her, his smirk half covered by his Slytherin scarf that’s tucked into his coat.

“Would you accompany me to the three broomsticks this weekend, as my date?” Tom asks again, amused by the bewildered look on (y/n)’s face. She blinks at him-shocked-her friends giggle behind her.

Girls on the other side of the courtyard-along with some guys-looked jealous, heartbroken ‘why her?’ they think, ‘why the Ravenclaw? Why not us?’

“uh-why?” (y/n) asks and Tom laughs, different from what she’s heard before from him-real.

“You intrigue me, (y/n).” he says her name like it’s honey on his tongue, a smirk on his terribly handsome face, her friends all giggle again as they shove her forward slightly-towards Tom. “You did something not many would, I wanted to see what you could be like without…me hanging off you.” he jokes, about a pathetic moment, a weak moment-he never jokes about such things.

“oh-uh,” (y/n) stutters, her friends shove her lightly and she jolts-looking up at Tom-snowflakes in her lashes-eyes reflecting the snow. “uh-sure yeah-okay.”

Tom grins, a charming thing-practiced, teeth barely shown. “Perfect, I’ll meet you at the great hall, nine sharp.” Tom said, almost cooed-and then he was gone, heading back into the castle, snow crunching under his boots as (y/n)’s friends surrounded her, giggling and teasing-Emma demanding she allow them to dress her up.

She lets them, they dress her in blue and green-a mix of the house colors. A green button-down winter coat, a blue plaid skirt, warm stockings-tall winter boots, warm winter gloves, and a cap that keeps her head warm and matches her coat.

She meets Tom at the great hall and he looks sharp in his winter coat, smirking at her as she descends the stairs that lead back up to the hall of changing staircases. “all dolled up for me?” he teases and (y/n) huffs, her cheeks already warm.

“My friends insisted.” She mumbles, he chuckles-a slight rasp to it that has her ears turning pink and he holds out his arm. She takes it and he leads her to the carriages that take the students to Hogsmeade and opens the door for her, stepping in after her.

The ride over to Hogsmeade is quiet and upon arrival Tom opens the door for her, holding out his hand for her after stepping out. She takes his hand, using it for balance as she steps out of the carriage and he continues to hold her hand as they walk down the path into Hogsmeade until they reach the three broomsticks-Tom opening the door for her and she quickly steps inside, shuddering as warmth rushes at her. She starts to take off her coat to hang it up but feels Tom take it for her, hanging it up along with her scarf and cap-his hung on the hook beside hers.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, and Tom smirked with a nod, his hand on the small of her back as he led her to an open table near the fireplace-he pulled out a chair for her-her back to the fireplace-and she sits, he even pushes her chair in and then he sits opposite of her.

She orders a butterbeer and Tom gets the same, along with a chowder bread bowl for them to share. (y/n) is quiet for a few minutes, tearing some of the bread to dip into the hot chowder and enjoying the flavor of the soup and the warm fluffy sour bread. She looks up at Tom, who was staring back at her, his chin resting on his fist.

She cleared her throat, sitting back in her chair. “so, uh,” she started, Tom tilting his head at her slightly, a smirk growing on his lips. “why-did you ask me out on a date?” she asked, a bit shyly-to be honest this was her first date as well, Tom being the first boy to ask her out…ever.

Tom hummed, looking away in thought and then back at her. “you…didn’t take advantage of me when I was love potioned, even though you could’ve easily done so,” Tom said and her brows furrowed.

“I didn’t because It would’ve been wrong to do so, and…you deserve to have consent in whatever…happens to you.” she said, unsure if it came out correctly-but it seems it did because Tom smiles.

“Exactly, I loathe to admit it, but most girls at the school would take whatever chance they have with me-even if I don’t want it. Believe me, its happened before, thankfully never successful.” Tom says quietly and (y/n)’s frown deepens. How awful. “but that’s exactly why I wanted to…allow a chance, I suppose-you didn’t take advantage, you respected me, and I respect that-and I thought that perhaps-even if nothing comes from it-a date would be…a good way to see if that potion was some odd sort of… meet-cute if you will.”

Tom said and (y/n) can’t help but laugh a bit, Tom smirking at her. “Meet-cute? Didn’t know you knew what those were.” (y/n) laughed gently, but she leans forward on the table, feeling more comfortable now. Tom laughs in return, shrugging slightly.

“I am an avid reader, and I do read more than just schoolbooks, otherwise I believe my brain would rot and I’d be purely academic.” Tom jokes and (y/n) laughs again, a sound that Tom finds he doesn’t mind at all.

“Are you a romance reader at all or is it tales of adventure and dragons?” (y/n) asks, half teasing and Tom chuckles, shaking his head a bit as he lifts his chin from his fist, allowing his hand to rest on the table.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I do like to read romance,” Tom told her like it was a secret, leaning in close to say it and (y/n) laughs.

“So, the big bad Slytherin prefect reads romance novels? How interesting,” (y/n) chuckles and Tom smirks at her, leaning back to take a drink of his butterbeer. The rest of their date goes pretty well, (y/n) had never imagined she could have so much to talk about with Tom Riddle.

She returns to her dorm holding a Starflower, twirling the stem in her fingers, smiling at it as she leans against the door to close it, she looks up to see her roommates/friends, all leaning towards her with interest and (y/n) gives a shy grin.

“We’re going on a study date Wednesday.” She says and her friends all cheer, including squealing and grabbing her to make her give more detail about the date. She enjoys telling them everything-something she never expected to do since Tom was the first to ask her out-and he’d asked her out on a second date.

‘would you mind studying with me Wednesday night?’

‘like a study date?’

‘exactly, so?’

‘I wouldn’t mind, not at all. What time?’

‘just after dinner, I’ll escort you from the great hall.’

(y/n) smiled as she remembered the conversation between her and Tom as he dropped her off at the Ravenclaw tower entrance, she wasn’t going to make him climb all the stairs up since the Slytherin common room was all the way at the bottom of the castle-and Ravenclaw had the highest tower.

He’d left her with a kiss to her hand and a charming smile, she’d smiled like an idiot, feeling the high of a good first date that had led to a second.

She’s giddy all the way to Wednesday night, her leg bouncing under the table as she struggles to eat her dinner at a normal pace-her bag tucked against her side, ready for her study date. She looks up across the hall-locking eyes with Tom, he smirks at her, taking a sip from his cup at the same moment.

Her cheeks flush and she looks back down at her plate-her friends teasing her-only one date and she was smitten? How adorable.

Tom thinks the same thing from across the hall, letting his gaze drop from her to finish his dinner, strangely excited for the study date. When he finishes he stands up from the Slytherin table, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, coolly making his way to the doors of the great hall.

(y/n) finishes her meal at the same and her friend does a quick look over before sending her off on her date. (y/n) has to hold back from literally skipping over to the doors, Tom waiting for her. He smirks at her, as if sensing her excitement and he holds his hand out-(y/n) can feel many eyes on them but right now? She doesn’t really care.

She takes his hand and he leads her to the library where they sit in a nice quiet corner. Like on the first date, he pulls out a chair for her and when she sits, he pushes it back into the table before circling around to sit across from her. They both pull out their notebooks and then Tom also pulls out a small stash of candy-probably from Honey dukes. Chocolates, licorice wands, and jellybeans.

“ooh,” (y/n) hums, taking a licorice wand and starting to snack at it while Tom stands, fetching a few books from the library to study with and soon books are spread across the table, Tom sharing his notes with her as they quietly enjoy their time together.

(y/n) absentmindedly took a ‘every flavor’ jellybean from the box, not bothering to look at it as she popped it into her mouth-fully regretting it. “Eugh-“ (y/n) choked and Tom’s head snapped up to look at her, his chair pushing out a bit at the look on her face, but she waved his concern off. “leech flavor.” She said and Tom chuckled, watching her spit out and vanish the gross jellybean.

“Not a fan of leeches?” Tom teased, grabbing the Jellybean box to shuffle through the candies inside, eventually finding one that he seemed suitable and handing it to her.

“Who is? Other than plague doctors and potion makers?” (y/n) huffed, taking the jellybean and carefully biting it, pleasantly surprised by the taste of cinnamon sugar. “how’d you know this one was good?” (y/n) asked Tom, chewing on the rest of the jellybean as Tom found a good one for himself.

“I have a good eye,” he said with a wink, popping a green jellybean into his mouth. He hummed, licking his teeth. “Candy apple.” (y/n) snorted, looking back down at her potions book, twirling her quill between her fingers. They talk quietly every now and then, mostly focused on studying-as was the point of a study date.

Tom’s shoe brushes against hers, her legs crossed under the table and extended, but he doesn’t move his leg back after he bumps her, instead leaning his foot against hers a bit, she smiles to herself and gets comfortable like that.

It’s pleasant and quiet between them, a conversation here and there, passing notes once in a while, reviewing the others work to give it fresh eyes. They spend so much time there that the warning bell for curfew goes off and they both jolt-Tom’s eyes going to his watch-huffing.

“Already almost ten,” Tom murmurs, (y/n) beginning to pack up notes and the books she brought while Tom stands to put the library books back where he got them. Soon the table was clean of papers and candy and Tom escorted (y/n) back to her common room. “I had a good time, something I must admit I rarely even think.” Tom says, a smirk growing on his face and (y/n) laughs, blushing as he kisses her hand again. “till tomorrow (y/n).” Tom says, almost a purring tone to his voice and (y/n) laughs again, waving goodbye for the night as he waits until she was inside her common room, twisting on his heel to head back to the Slytherin common room.

They have another study date on Friday, and then go to Hogsmeade again on Saturday, and then another study date on Tuesday.

(y/n) never thought she could feel so giddy over a person, Tom never thought he could enjoy being around another person so much-never thought he’d consider what someone would like. He would walk through the school-passing by students, spotting things that other girls would have and think ‘oh, (y/n) would like that, I should get it for her’ he’d pause-realize what he thought, process it, and then move on.

And then the next owl mail, (y/n) would have it, be it a bracelet, or a bouquet of flowers, or even a hair accessory; (y/n) cherished each one, having never been given courting gifts before. She’d smile at Tom each time she’d get something from him and he’d smirk back.

Soon enough, he was asking her to be his girl, with a bouquet of flowers and all, it was just before Valentine’s day, she was out in the courtyard with her friends, watching first years play in the snow. She heard Tom from behind and turned, gasping at the beautiful bouquet of flowers he had in hand, which he gave to her. “oh, Tom they’re so pretty!” she cooed, admiring the array of flowers. Roses, lilies, and daises-with baby’s breath dashed in to fill the bouquet in its empty spots.

Tom smirked at her reaction, stepping in close to her, body heat shared close. He took her hand-which she wore winter gloves to protect her fingers from the cold-and kissed her knuckles, staring at her with intense eyes. “be my girl?” he asked quietly, as if it was only for her ears. She couldn’t help her giddy grin and she nodded, breathing out her answer.

“Yes.” She said softly and Tom smirk widened, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and then her knuckles again-leaving her giddy and giggly as he left her with her friends who all went nuts as soon as he was back inside the castle.

(y/n) didn’t stop smiling for a whole week, every time she saw Tom she’d just smile even more and he was greatly amused by it all, genuinely amused, a flutter in his chest each time he saw her giddy grin, him the cause of it. He was fond of the fact that he was the cause of her happiness, he really liked it, and he wanted to keep making her smile. It was a new thing, to want to make someone happy other than himself-but he didn’t mind it, not at all.

So every weekend, he took (y/n) on a date in Hogsmeade, doing whatever felt right for that day, and every night they have a study date, sometimes in the Slytherin common room, Tom glaring at anyone that had a say against it. (y/n) just enjoys spending time with Tom, he was such a gentleman, and made her really happy-she always felt giddy with the mere thought of being around him.

Their first kiss is sweet, a classic, taking place just after a Hogsmeade date and Tom was once more dropping her off at her common room, kissing her hand as she stood before him on the steps up to the common room entrance. “until tomorrow my dear,” Tom said with a smirk, looking up at her through his lashes and she smiles, biting her lip.

He goes to step back but she lays her hand on his shoulder, keeping him close.

Her eyes dash down to his lips and then meet his eyes again, he can’t help the stutter in his heart, stepping closer to where she stood-she leans in close, he meets her halfway-pressing his lips against hers in a soft first kiss.

He can’t help but let his eyes flutter closed, her lips soft and sweet against his, she tasted like the butterbeer she drank at Hogsmeade, he tastes like black licorice. They both pull away after a few moments, (y/n) smiled shyly and Tom smirked back, leaving her with one more kiss to her-in his opinion-perfect lips, kissing her hand once more, and then leaving as she went into her common room. It closed behind her and she sunk against the wall with a sigh, her face warm and heart beating faster than a snitch.

Tom leaned against the cold wall next to him, brushing his fingers against his lips, a soft smile on his face-his eyes soft. He takes a breath and continues on to his common room, a pep in his step.

-

(y/n) made her way to the library after classes were done, ready to meet Tom-however she was distracted by several professors suddenly rushing by with a gurney with a student on it-a student that was strangely frozen-face paralyzed with fear. Her brows furrow, stuck to one spot for a moment before she moved on, a strange anxiety ebbing at the back of her chest as she heads to the library, quickly going up to her usual table with Tom-waiting for him to arrive.

She waited for a few minutes longer than she usually did for Tom to arrive, looking up as she heard his footsteps, he quickly walked up to their table and sat across from her-looking strangely giddy. “What happened?” (y/n) asked him and he only smiled her, intense and strange, taking her hand and kissing it.

“A step forward my dear,” he said vaguely, soon coming down from…high he was on and holding her hand on the table as he studied with her, though he still seemed distracted, a strange look in his eyes that left her feeling unnerved.

Later she found out the student she saw being escorted by gurney had been petrified, the head nurse was unsure how, the professors had no answers either, the student was in Gryffindor-a muggleborn. Two weeks later another student was petrified, also muggleborn-Ravenclaw. Again, no one knew why-there was no evidence of spell casting like ‘petrificus totalus’, or some sort of potion in their systems.

One is a coincidence two is a pattern. That was all that went through her head as the two petrified students were kept in the hospital wing, both having no evidence for why they were petrified-it was too similar.

When a third student was petrified-another muggleborn, Ravenclaw again-she knew something was going on at Hogwarts. And strangely, each time a student was petrified-Tom would be strangely giddy, wild look in his eyes that had her wondering if he had anything to do with the petrified students.

So, she followed him one night, he looked to be on a mission. He’d left her by the stairs of Ravenclaw tower with a kiss to her temple and hand before leaving, robes billowing behind him as he walked with a sense of immense purpose. She followed him, all the way to the second-floor girls lavatory, where she remembered Myrtle Warren going into way earlier after Olive Hornby(yes the very same that love potioned Tom) had bullied her relentlessly about her glasses.

Tom entered the lavatory, and (y/n) hung just outside, hearing Myrtle sobbing and Tom…Tom began to speak in a strange language-one (y/n) didn’t speak but knew. Parseltongue! She stepped forward, pushing open the door-wondering what was going on-going still in shock and a bit of awe as the sinks in the middle of the room opened, revealing a tunnel that went deep down under the school-Tom said something else in the hissing language and (y/n) heard something big climbing up the pipes-something slithering.

“Tom? What are you doing?” (y/n) asked and Tom turned quickly-eyes going wide-he lunged towards her, wrapping his arms around her head and bringing it to his chest so she couldn’t see, she just barely caught a glimpse of myrtle coming out of a bathroom stall and then something massive hissed-a body then dropped to the floor.

“Don’t look. don’t look.” Tom breathed into her ear, practically begging, his arms tight around her-refusing to let her move. He turned his head-speaking in parseltongue again-the massive serpent(it had to be) going back into the pipes, the sinks closing together again. Tom took a shaky breath, moving his hands to her shoulders and stepping back, looking down at her-eyes intense and concerned.

“What was that?” (y/n) asked him before he could say anything, reaching up to grab his arms as he stared at her. He seemed hesitant for a moment, licking his lips-she looked at Myrtle, she was dead on the floor-eyes wide and lifeless. “Did you order it to kill her?”

Tom swallowed harshly, staring hard at her before reaching up to cup her face. He didn’t seem to know what to say. “It’s a basilisk,” he murmured finally, looking back at the sinks, breathing hard once. “it comes from the chamber of secrets.”

The words feel like a bucket of cold electric water being dumped on her, her mouth dropping open, Tom continues to speak. “I’m a descendant of Slytherin, only I can control it. I found it earlier this year, I tested the beast, the petrified students-all my hand. Myrtle was different, she was a necessary death.” He rambled, (y/n) gently took his face to make him look at her, stepping closer to him, his hand tight against her jaw.

“We need to leave before someone finds us with her.” (y/n) said, shock in Tom’s eyes but he quickly followed her as she took his hand, and they left the lavatory. He took her to his room, since girls could go into boy’s dorms but never the reverse oddly enough; pulling her onto his bed and drawing the curtains, diary in hand and a muffling charm cast.

“From the beginning,” (y/n) offered when Tom looked lost on where to start explaining it all-he was in shock she was even responding the way she was. Tom took a breath, knees brushing against her thigh as he sat closer to her.

“I’ve been able to speak to snakes as long as I can remember, I grew up in an orphanage in London-so I had no clue of my origins, I only knew my name was my fathers and that my mother had died giving birth to me.” Tom began his story, (y/n) listening intently.

“I met Dumbledore the summer before my first year, his reaction when I told him I could speak to snakes only confirmed to me that it was a special skill-something not all wizards could do. I researched further in my first year, I thought my father was the wizard since I thought…I thought my mother was too weak since she had died-she couldn't be.” Tom took a deep breath, looking down when he realized (y/n) was holding his hand, he squeezed back gently.

“But I found my father was muggle-there’s no record of him here, two years ago, I finally was able to track down my mother's side. The Gaunt’s. The direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. Through that I found out about the myth of the Chamber of secrets, I’ve been looking for it ever since-i found it, just a few months ago. I used it, the beast within-the king of serpents, the basilisk.”

“That’s why only muggleborns have been petrified.” (y/n) murmured and Tom nodded, not looking at her quite yet. “That’s what Salazar Slytherin's plan was for it, to purge the school of Muggleborns. I had wanted to prove my worth, to myself I suppose, to prove I was worthy of being his descendant.” Tom said, saying it all in nearly one breath, his shoulders dropping as he looked further away from her. “I suppose you think I’m mad, going to turn me in?”

She gently takes his face, turning it to look at her-to look at her smiling face. “Never.” She said softly, leaning in to kiss him. His eyes widened and then snapped shut, kissing her back fiercely, diary dropping onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around her, climbing on top of her as she fell back onto the bed with his weight pushing on her.

He pulled away, looking down at her as he breathed harshly. “not turning me in?” he asked roughly, her hand gently brushing against his cheek.

“if I must confess, it’s all fascinating, the chamber, the basilisk. You.” (y/n) murmured, her eyes closing and she laughed gently as Tom leaned down to pepper her face in kisses, grateful ones, oh what a perfect girl he’d found.

-

“What's your alibi?” (y/n) asked him, the two tangled together on the blankets of his bed, (y/n) flipping through his diary, reading everything he’d wrote. The basilisk, the chamber, her, his plans, his chosen name. Voldemort, in French it meant ‘flight from death’. He had confessed to her his fear of death; and his plan to create horcruxes-the first to be his diary.

Myrtle's death would be the catalyst to split his soul, of which he would have to make a special potion to actually take his soul out of his body and physically split it, and then put the split part into his diary. (y/n) of course offered to help, knowing such a procedure would be painful.

“Uh, I haven’t thought of one, it was sort’ve spur of the moment,” Tom admits into her neck, his arms wrapped around her, face buried in her shoulder-soaking up her warmth like a cat. (y/n) raised her brow, moving her head to look at him, he stubbornly hides his face in her neck still.

“You…murdered myrtle…on a whim?” (y/n) asked slowly and Tom huffed, looking up at her with a slight pout.

“When you say it like that.” He grumbled and (y/n) let out a soft snort, her shoulders shaking with a light laugh. “I sort’ve planned it, she was upset-I saw her go into the lavatory-where the chamber entrance is-I saw an opportunity, I took it.” (y/n) snorted again and Tom pinched her side, making her yelp/giggle.

“Don’t pinch me! Anyway! What is your alibi?...Do you even need one?” (y/n) asked again and Tom let out a small huff, resting her head on her shoulder again, looking at her profile as she kept reading his diary, smiling at the pages that were about her.

“I think Dumbledore would be my only suspector, as he is one of the few that know I can speak parseltongue, so he’d be the only one to worry about.” Tom murmured against her neck, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Did you have prefect route tonight?” (y/n) asks, closing the diary after arriving to the final written page, which was half about her and half about his plan for Myrtle. Tom shook his head against her neck. “mmm, then you could just say you were with me, hanging out in my common room, even though that’s technically against the rules, it's better than what you actually did.” (y/n) murmured, laying the diary on her stomach, her hand curling through Tom’s hair absentmindedly.

“You’re covering for me?” Tom murmured against her neck, arm wrapping around her waist, tugging at her side to pull her closer to him. (y/n) nodded, looking down at him, giving him a small smile.

“Well, yeah, you’d do the same for me? Wouldn’t you?” (y/n) asked softly and Tom surged up, pressing his lips to hers in a hard passionate kiss, pulling away for only a moment to say ‘yes’ before kissing her again, rolling on top of her, hooking his knee between her legs and grabbing her sides with his hands, pulling her body up towards his.

-

Myrtle’s body was found just before curfew; Olive Hornby had found her after being forced to go look for her since she was the reason Mrytle had run off to cry-only to be traumatized by finding Myrtle’s body and soon Aurors were at Hogwarts, rumors quickly spreading around the school about her death. Along with the possible closing of the school since there had been several petrification’s and one death. All unexplained.

Tom got unnerved at the thought of the school closing-taking (y/n) with him to head towards the 2nd floor, pausing at the 2nd flight of stairs in front of the great hall, watching as Aurors carried Myrtle's body down the stairs, her hand hanging pale and limp from the stretcher.

Tom watched, swallowing hard as Myrtle's body passed by him, he’d actually done it-he’d killed someone. “Riddle? Come.” Tom whirled around, Professor Dumbledore standing at the top of the stairs, waving Tom forward.

“Professor Dumbledore.” Tom said, tilting his chin up as he took (y/n)’s hand in his, bringing her up with him to stand before Dumbledore.

“It is not wise to be wandering this late hour Tom, especially when one has a young lady in their company.” Dumbledore said, glancing at (y/n) as she wrapped her arms around Tom’s arm, his hand tight in hers.

“Yes professor,” Tom said, clearing his throat, standing with his back expression controlled to show exactly what emotions he wanted to show, respect and concern. “I suppose i-I had to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are Tom, they are true.” Dumbledore said, Tom raising his brows in worry, clutching (y/n)’s hand tight in his. “about the school as well? I don’t have a home to go to. They wouldn’t really close down Hogwarts, would they, professor?”

Dumbledore looked down at Tom, studying him intently, Tom’s hand squeezed (y/n)’s, she squeezed back. “I understand Tom, but I’m afraid; headmaster Dippet may have no choice.”

Tom’s voice became a bit more desperate-vulnerable, this being an uncontrolled reaction-he couldn't have the school close-he couldn't bear going back to the orphanage so soon. “Sir, if it all stopped; if the person responsible was caught…” (y/n) squeezed Tom’s hand to calm him, knowing he was showing too much, since Dumbledore gave Tom an odd look-one of knowing but having no proof.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Tom?” Dumbledore asked calmly, studying Tom intently. Tom blinked himself out of his stupor, raining his emotions back in.

“No sir, nothing.” Tom said, swallowing harshly as Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer, and then (y/n), but she only stared back, unperturbed.

“Very well then, off you both go. Make sure Ms. (y/n) returns to her house safe and sound Tom.” Tom nodded, of course he would-he bid the professor goodnight, taking (y/n) up the stairs and towards the changing staircases, leaving her at the bottom.

“I have to go, go to your room, I’ll see you in the morning.” Tom murmured, kissing her forehead and he strode off into the dark corridors, (y/n) staying at the bottom of the moving staircases for a moment before beginning her climb up to Ravenclaw tower.

-

Tom quickly framed Rubeus Hagrid for the attacks, since the boy had always had an affinity for monstrous creatures and had a habit of sneaking them into the school-the ‘monster’ blamed for the attacks being an Acromantula, a deadly giant spider.

Coincidently, their venom could paralyze people, and if there was enough in the system, it could kill. Tom had the perfect scapegoat-and it worked like a charm. He turned Hagrid in, got a reward for saving Hogwarts, and was praised to high heaven by all the professors for his bravado.

Only (y/n) and Tom knew the truth-with Dumbledore suspecting Tom but having no proof to accuse him.

Soon it was the last week of school-and during this time (y/n) helped Tom make the potion that would allow him to make his first horcrux. (y/n) stood in front of the sinks that were the entrance to the chamber, Tom standing next to her-having just opened it. The sinks detached from their spots, revealing the tunnel and Tom took her into his arms, holding her as they slid down the tunnel tot eh depths below the castle.

He held her hand the whole way though the pipes-animal bones covering everything. Soon it turned to a cavern-getting closer to the true entrance to the chamber. They stopped before a set of double doors that were guarded by two metal snakes with emeralds for eyes. “Aaaheeshaasha.” Tom spoke in his low voice, his voice quivering like a serpent’s hiss. The snakes eyes glowed, and moved, becoming hinges to the doors and they swung open-revealing the legendary chamber of secrets.

“Oh wow,” (y/n) breathed, her hands on Tom’s shoulders as he lowered her into the chamber-the steps long since eroded from time so it was a straight drop from the doors to the main corridor. It was one massive room-with pillars lining the path that had snakes curling up them, and a massive statue of Salazar himself at the back, a stone basilisk curling up  behind him-its stone eyes locked onto the doors. “its…strangely beautiful.”

Tom looked at her with pride, squeezing her hand as they walked deeper into the chamber. There was a smaller chamber to the right of the statue-an old library, ransacked with only a few books left inside. Tom said a previous member of the Gaunt’s must’ve stolen the books, feeling Hogwarts unworthy of Salazar's knowledge.

(y/n) put down her bag, reaching into it-having used an undetectable extension charm, and pulling out all the potion ingredients, including the cauldron.  She and Tom got to work making the potion that would allow him to split his soul and put it in his diary, the diary resting in his pocket.

After an hour of potion making-the pitch black potion was ready. It looked like a black hole, there wasn’t even any shine to it. “It looks ready,” (y/n) murmured, sitting next to Tom. She turned off the burner, going to cast a cooling charm on the potion but Tom rolled his sleeves up and stuck his hands straight into the potion-(y/n) gasping and grabbing his shoulder as he hissed, face clenching in pain.

He pulled his hands out-they looked pure black, like a void. “Tom,” she said softly, holding his shoulder as he moved his hands to his chest, he paused as his fingers passed through his skin-blood beginning to soak his shirt. She grabbed him tightly, burying her face against his back as he took several breaths-pushing his hands deeper, a rasp of pain escaping him.

She couldn’t bear to watch, hearing his painful gasps for breath, blood soaking his shirt-hot and wet. A soft glow caught her attention, and she pulled her head up, seeing his soul in his hands-blood and the void-like potion dripping down his hands. He took a long breath, and clenched his hands-his soul snapping in half and he hunched forward, dry heaving. “Tom,” she said, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his. He shook his head, hands shaking as he put one half of his soul back inside him-the other half still in his hand.

She grabbed his diary from his robe pocket that had been discarded halfway through making the potion, holding it out for him. He gave her a small weak nod, looking exhausted and sick-he put his split soul up to his diary and it absorbed into the diary.

The diary felt alive in her hands now, the cold leather warming quickly in her palms and she quickly set it down on her lap-snatching up her wand and cleaning Tom’s arms and hands of the potion and his blood. He heaved again-she dumped the potion out from the cauldron and put it in front of him-he threw up into the cauldron, blood mixing with his bile.

“I feel like I got hit by a troll.” Tom said, drool dripping from his chin-he looked sick, face pale and flushed with fever.

“You look it,” (y/n) said softly, kissing his temple and he heavily leaned into her, his whole body shivering as she wrapped her arms around him-ignoring the wetness of his blood on his shirt. She held him for what felt like hours, just holding him close as he shivered, dry heaving and aching all over.

Eventually, she got him on his feet, vanishing the evidence of the potion and Horcrux creation with a wave of her wand. He leaned heavily on her as they left the chamber of secrets, he held his diary close to him-it was the only way he felt less sick.

Soon she was helping him out of the tunnel into the girls lavatory-no one went in here now, too scared of what happened to Myrtle.  “Are you okay?” (y/n) asked Tom and he got to his feet, shaking still-pale and sick. He threw up into a sink, panting wetly as (y/n) rubbed his back, leaning carefully into him as he shook, arms weak and trembling as he hovered over the sink.

They spent time in the bathroom before finally moving on, (y/n) helping Tom to his room, thankfully going downstairs was way easier than going upstairs. “Jurisdiction,” (y/n) said upon arriving at the Slytherin common room door and it opened for her, Tom huffing in amusement, she’d remembered the password. She helped him into the common room and to his dorm, carefully laying him down on his bed-taking off his shirt to clean it and then going to get a few washcloths, soaking them in cold water to put them against his flushed face and neck.

“Cold-“ he groaned, his eyes unfocused, grasping her hand as she patted the cloth against his face.

“I know, but you have a fever,” she said softly and Tom groaned again, closing his eyes and letting her help him as she cooled down his skin with the cold washcloth, soon getting him tucked into bed after cleaning him up-of course after helping him change out of his bloody/potion soaked clothes.

She laid next to him-he quickly reached out to her to tug her into him, soaking up her body heat as she gently rested his diary-his horcrux-in the bedside table drawer, making sure it was locked before she drew the curtains, curling up beside Tom-who thankfully fell asleep against her, shivering the whole time.

-

It took Tom a few days to recover from making his horcrux, thankfully before the end of the school year, so he didn’t need help packing as everyone prepared to go ‘home’ for the summer. “you live at an orphanage right?” (y/n) asked him softly, sitting on his bed as he packed up his uniforms. He nodded, not looking like he wanted to talk about it. “which one?” Tom glanced up at her, swallowing harshly, looking at his diary in her lap, she was thumbing the spine softly-treating it like a true extension of him.

He had decided to let her keep it, to trust her to keep it safe. “Wools orphanage” Tom eventually answered, turning back to fold his socks into his trunk. “in London.”

“Oh, that’s closer to me than I thought,” (y/n) said brightly, Tom looking up at her with his brow raised, having a feeling he knew what she was getting at.

“is that an invitation?” he drawled, hiding his smile as she nodded, scooting to get closer to him.

“It very much is. My parents want to meet you anyway, and with your charm, I'm sure you could get a night or two at my house.” (y/n) said, slightly teasing him. Tom huffed with amusement, leaning over to kiss her softly. She happily leaned into it, the diary tucked against her stomach.

“I think I’ll take you up on that love,” he murmured, (y/n)’s smile growing wider, leaning back to let him finish packing-though now he wasn’t as solemn about it.

-end-

[yeyinde]

the morally questionable relationship between John Price and the darling little starlet he picks up off of the street during the golden age of Hollywood would be such a treat.

because producer!John Price is known as the best of the best in Hollywood. He has an eye for talent, they say, and a keen ability for spotting the diamonds amongst the rubble.

And of all the stars in the world, he sets his sights on you. Pretty little thing. Bright and blinding—Betelgeuse glimmering on the precipice of a supernova. All you need is a little push. A backer. A chance. And he gives it to you. Ushers you into stardom with a crooked grin around the butt of a cigar and a wicked gleam in his eyes that you—in all your artless, sheltered naivete—chalk up to pride.

The problem with sweet little darlings like you is that they all sing the same song. Yearn for the same thing. And it's so easy to mistake his interest as fatherly when the name on your birth certificate reads John Doe. And when he tells you his name is John Price, well—

It's fate, isn't it?

He told you he's been married once but had no children, and the longing in his eyes must be for the family he's never got a chance to have. So, you promise to give it to him.

Problem is: the devil lives in Hollywood and drinks his whiskey neat. You told him you'd be his family, giving him the one that left him behind. Signed your soul to blue eyes for the big screen.

Not that you'd know this, of course. To you, John is a sad widower with a heart of gold. Your overprotective bear who snarls at the directors and actors who get a little too handsy with you on set. His darling little star.

It's easy to wave everyone off when they express concern about these blurring lines between employee and employer. Boss and—

Father figure.

They just don't know him like you do.

And how funny, you tell him one evening with a wry twist to your lips, eyes swimming with sheltered mischief. They thought we were lovers, Mr Price. Isn't that just the damnedest thing?

This little quip has the opposite effect, and if only you looked a little bit closer at the gleam in his eye, the clench in his jaw, you might have seen the storm gathering on the horizon before it hit. Instead of laughing with you at the director's gall, this hilarious joke, John feels you slipping through his fingers just a little bit more. And that simply won't do.

You want a father figure? Then fine. That's what he'll be. Convenient, of course, because he's been thinking about fatherhood a lot lately, too. It's only natural that he decides to cash in on that promise you made all those years ago to make him a proud dad.

[gomzdrawfr]

light study with cowboy Price

alt version + ref used:

[togament]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐘. ume, sakura, suo, kaji, togame.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mentions of alcohol, drinking it, Ume’s cuteness and extreme softness, mega warning for Ume’s I kinda got ahead of myself again (it’s longer than the others ;;), AFAB!reader, NSFW FOR TOGAME AND HIS FILTHY MOUTH, small argument in Kaji's (but he makes up for it, I swear.)

𝐔𝐦𝐞.

- responsible, of course. He doesn’t drink and would most likely be the one cleaning up after everyone when they’re wasted, handing out cold bottles of electrolytes and glasses of water. Possibly the one passing around properly proportioned drinks so he could keep an eye on everyone, handing out snacks too. The absolute best Mama Hen (Papa Rooster?) you could ask for in a house party. But if you’re the only ones awake? He sneaks in a drink or two with you. An emotional drunk. Prepare to sniffle with him as he practically thanks you for being around, for being the absolute best, for being his best friend, for making him fall in love with yo—

“You’re the best, y’know that?” He sips his drink, nursing a bottle of electrolytes in his other hand. He says it so suddenly, so abruptly, you think you misheard it. You scoot closer to your best friend, arms pressed against each other as you both lean against the wall, facing your knocked out friends. With your cheek pressed onto his shoulder, you shake your head. “Should be telling you that, Ume. The party was a success because of you. Hiragi’s parent’s antiques live to see another day.” With that, he nudges you gently with a chuckle. “C’mon let me shower you with praise, alright? Listen.” Sounding a bit serious now, he has your full attention.

He threads his fingers through yours and he squeezes once. You squeeze back. Seeing his reddened knuckles from recent scuffles, you raise your intertwined fingers to your lips to press kisses onto each knuckle as he speaks. A dusting of pink ever present on his cheeks. You swear you could hear his heart beating at the same rhythm as yours is.

“I…” He pauses, tearing his eyes away from you for a moment before he looks into yours once more. Determined. Eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I think I love you—“, another pause, he shakes his head. You squeeze his hand in return to steady him and he gives you a smile you’ve never seen him give you before. Your heart’s beating double time now. “I—I know I love you. I do. More than just a friend, a companion. I know you might not feel the same way, maybe you see me as family and that’s fine but I just—“ “I love you too, idiot.” You interrupt his overthinking before continuing, “Always have. More than a friend, actually.”

If your friends weren’t a few feet from you both he’d scoop you up and twirl you around. Hell, if he had a tail he’d be wagging it nonstop by now. Your hands, now sweaty, are still intertwined. He’s practically beaming with sunlight, ready to burst. While you’re basking in it. Your sun. Your sun.

You both kissed each other that night with the taste of cheap whiskey and electrolytes on your lips.

𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- Asian glow, meet Sakura. Sakura puts the Asian glow to shame, my guy. He’s got a tomato for a head when he drinks. You’re not even touching or kissing him, he’s just… RED. Doesn’t like getting plastered but when he does get a couple of drinks in? He’s screaming for you every second, looking for you, needing you around him. (Nirei’s sprinting to look for you, Suo’s making Sakura drink enough water, Ume’s preparing a cold bottle of pocari sweat for him.) What normally would make Sakura run away screaming would now make him actually, fully accept it. You can feel him melt into you, pressing his cheek to yours. He’s a very clingy drunk. The others don’t point it out as much. They don’t want to poke the (extremely, extremely clingy) bear.

“Where is she???” He literally screams into the crowd, getting on his tippy toes and hopping over heads just to get a glance of you hopefully walking towards him. Nirei’s already lost in the group of people, weaving through them to get to you. Thankfully, you’re just at the kitchen whipping up a couple more drinks when Nirei finally found you. “He’s at it again, huh?” You say as you take a swig from your drink, looking at a messy haired Nirei. He looks like he went through hell and back. “Y-yeah. I think you should go. He’s been groaning for you nonstop-“ Nirei then guides you through the crowd, hand on your wrist so you wouldn’t get lost.

He pulls you towards Sakura whose now lounging on the couch. You both were hoping for a relieved Sakura but instead are met with your bicolor haired lover staring daggers into Nirei and his steady grip on your wrist. Nirei immediately lets go and as he does, Sakura pulls you into his lap causing your drink to spill a little, dribbling down your cheek and your neck. “What the hell Saku—“ you’re interrupted by him licking a strip up your neck, lapping at the spilled drink. His hands grow more possessive as they hold you closer to him, kneading your flesh through your clothes.

“Missed ya,” he mutters into your neck, nuzzling his nose into it like a kitten would. “Where’d ya run off to? Been looking everywhere for you, baby.” he’s a completely different person when he’s tipsy, clingy and touchy, not really caring if your friends see him practically claiming his spot as YOUR lover. “Went to make some drinks. Don’t tell me you need me with you all the time.” You tease him. While he’d normally blush and stammer at that, he’s now pressing kisses into your cheek, smiling into each one.

“Mhm. Need ya all the damn time, angel. Don’t leave.”

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐒𝐮𝐨.

- doesn’t drink (he doesn’t eat either so—) He really just doesn’t like drinking alcohol. He gets the appeal, sure. He could go for a couple of glasses, sure. He could maybe finish 2 bottles of whiskey by himself and not feel a thing, SURE. But he doesn’t like drinking it. He’s more of like a casual enjoyer, maybe having a finger or two of whiskey on the rocks with friends. Always the one cleaning up after them (Nirei) too. But when it’s just the both of you though, it’s a different story. Sure you can’t tell if he’s plastered or not from the get go but there’s a tell. He’s more… open with his emotions.

“You look gorgeous in that dress, my dove,” you turn slowly to your lover who’s eyeing you down from beside you. You’re both at one of the booths of the speakeasy you frequent, away from curious eyes. By the way he’s looking at you, you feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes almost. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows dryly. Is he blushing? You can’t tell under the dim lighting, “Absolutely—gorgeous,” he ghosts his fingers along your curves, his gaze following the invisible path he’s drawn out. Making sure to go extra, extra slow around your derrière before he pulls his hand away to take a swig of his drink.

“What’s gotten into you tonight? Drunk already?” You say while you reach over to straighten his suit out, trying your damndest not to let your growing arousal show. You swear you can feel the booth heating up. “Drunk off the alcohol? Oh, dearest no. Off of you, however? Well…” He’s staring at you from over his rocks glass. The ice clinks as he puts it down on the table.

“How could I not? I could drink you in all fucking night.” There’s that tell. There’s the swearing. You pause, meeting his heavily lidded gaze. You swallow. “Care to give me a taste, dove?”

You feel his fingers creep up your leg and you part them so willingly. Nobody’ll peek into your booth. Not with your lover around.

𝐊𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- Lightweight to Average drinker. He’s a sleepy drunk but he doesn’t want anyone seeing him in such a vulnerable state so he often opts to bail or not drink at all. Most of the time he bails though. Not about that social drinking life. Only you could manage to convince him to come with though. You’re always met with the tiniest amount of resistance but you can manage, right? (He’s got a soft spot for you. Of course he’d go. You don’t have to ask twice. He just likes seeing you pout when he says no the first time. It’s cute.) Still, don’t get him drunk please don’t—oh no he’s got a bottle in his hand. He’s guzzling it. Oh no. Ohhh no.

You’re in Hiragi’s bed, hidden under the covers with your lover’s arms wrapped around your waist and his face resting on your shoulder now fast asleep. How’d you both find yourselves here? Well, first, Kaji ended up breaking a couple of glasses (he swears it was an accident), then almost started a couple of fights (you know how he is with his mouth), then tried napping on the couch with you while everybody’s drinking (he was complaining about the noise but… it’s a party, Kaji.) Hiragi, thankfully, allowed you both to hole up in his room for a little while to sober up. Locked inside with a couple of bottles of pocari sweat (care of Umemiya!), you’re intertwined now.

You sigh, flicking your boyfriend’s forehead gently, “idiot,” he winces, tightening his grip around your waist to pull you closer. Thank god he’s mellower now. “Ow—shit! What’d you do that for?” He rubs his forehead on your cheek, HIS cheeks slightly blushing from the alcohol. “You shouldn’t have drunk too much-“ “Well you brought me here what was I supposed to d-“ “Oh I don’t know, not drink an entire bottle in one sit—“ You feel his lips against yours, the tiny argument now forgotten. You can taste the alcohol and some sweetness from his lollipop from earlier. Then you hear something you never thought you’d hear fall from his mouth willingly.

“…sorry.” Huh. You angle away to take a proper look at him. He only grumbles and hides deeper into your neck, using the covers as a shield against from you. He’s acting so needy and soft. If he wasn’t so tipsy you would have pounced on him to pepper kisses along his cheeks. You attempt to pull the blanket down but he’s holding it so tightly. “Say that again, baby? You’re what?” You can’t hide the smile from your lips but then he pinches your side causing you to yelp. “Y’heard me the first time.” Rolling your eyes, you nuzzle into his touch. “C’mon just a tiny one? The tiniest little sowwy? Fow me?” You whisper and you’re only met with three kisses on your forehead.

“I love you. Sorry.” You smile, bringing up Hiragi’s comfortable blanket over your sleepy bodies.

“Love you too, idiot.”

𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

Is an absolute lightweight so he ends up being a sleepy drunk or doesn’t drink at all. But with you around and he’s had maybe a drink and a half in his system? He’s absolutely feral. So touchy, SO so SOOOOO horny when he’s got even the slightest amount of alcohol in his system to get him tipsy. He’s touching you, caressing your face, your arms, your ass (if you’d allow him to. The man understands boundaries.) While he’s normally so soft spoken around you, teasing you in his own silly, dorky way, he’s a different man when he's tipsy. His vocabulary is a different beast. Sloppy and direct. His 6’2” frame and entire weight practically leaning onto you for support on Hiragi’s family couch — to some he looks as though he’s dozing off. It’s anything BUT that. He’s whispering the dirtiest, raunchiest things into your ear, teasing you with that deep voice of his. He knows what he’s doing. You like it, of course.

“I’m so fucking hard right now, doll—god it’s throbbing.” He whines softly into your neck, breathing so heavily you swear his body’s quivering. That voice does things to you and he KNOWS it. “Wanna fuck yet throat. Have my cum spillin’ down yer mouth, yer chest….fuck—y’put a spell on me, didn’t ya? Makin’ me wanna fuck all the damn time.” He ends it with a chuckle, peppering slow, loving kisses along your neck, clearly doesn’t care if anybody sees you both now. “Y’know, when yer not around, I fuck my fist to the thought of ya, of yer ass bouncing on me, of yer pussy dripping into my fingers. God I wanna fuck ya so badly right now—“ You can’t help it. You cross your legs to have some relief and you shift your weight slightly, feeling your throbbing clit pressed in between.

“Crossing your legs like that—yer getting off of this aren’t you? Wanna fuck me too huh?” He whispers, drawing it out slowly with a slight purr.

You nod and you can feel him perk up a little. He eases up as he stands slowly, pulling you up with him. He’s leading you down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of your peers. They’re all too busy to care where the both of you are headed.

“There’s a vacant room ‘round back. Hiragi wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t he?”

a/n: huuurrrr pulled this out of my bum I hope you like it omg I literally wrote Togame's half asleep asjdk also feeling very bad for Hiragi and his house. kaji part dedicated to @kajibunny and our late morning rambles btw ohoho i mahal na mahal u come get your man!!!!

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.