#Sphinx girlfriend

[acatnamedafteradog]

I see your werewolf boyfriend and raise you a sphinx girlfriend

Art by Spicymancer on Twitter

Follow or support them on patreon

[paper-swirls]

Meet Rune the Sphinx! For "Love at First Fright!" - A monster dating sim stamp rally.

[keydekyie]

here's your reminder to kiss your sphinx gf on her little forehead

[evilejfan]

This time last year I got heavily into doodling Venture Bros. Here's some highlights. Let me know if you want to see more.

[tsundernova]

Happy Hallowe'en! Stay safe if you're out and about tonight!

[renae-nicole-lynn]

Medusa and the Minotaur kind of kicked off this rosters theme 😅. Moving forward I think this is how I’ll start off every roster, basing the lineup off the last one or two monsters from the previous lineup, or at least their counterpart from a different mythology/fandom etc.

You can find the Masterlist for Monster Loves here.

[spicymancer]

do werewolf boyfriend and sphinx girlfriend get a long, are they indifferent, or is it on sight.

Oh they get along great!

...most of the time

[blossompigeon]

God I suck so bad at sharing art, I did these at least a month and half ago and forgot!

Redesigns of two old OCs bc I had sphinxes on the brain... Big Sphinx is called Alma and Lil Sphinx is called Esther. They are girlfriends :)

[probablybadrpgideas]

Sphinx whose riddles are distressingly personal.

"Riddle me this, heroes...why did my girlfriend leave me? Do you think I can win her back? Here's my text history if that helps"

[t00thpasteface]

cheetah and pallas cat sphinxes (they are girlfriends)

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Male!Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt- Nefero and the reader go to the mall to splurge on outfits and makeup

She/her pronouns

Fluff/Established relationships

Nickname for the reader- my jewel or my queen

(F/c)- favorite color

(S/f/c)- second favorite color

Edit* it's still good but it needs an update soon*

Art is not mine found it on pinterest

___________________________________________

It was a scareus Saturday the time was 9:23

Withing the De Nile home where a couple getting ready, it was Nefero and his girlfriend [Name], the two where getting ready by the vanity applying their own makeup.

[Name] was applying her lip combo and Nefero was applying the last but of contour on his high cheekbones "Any ideas for today's shopping spree date jewel?" Nefero picked up his setting spray and sprits it over his face

"Hmmm well I was hoping to get a few things maybe a new book to read tonight and a new makeup pallet but get two so we can match, how about that hon?"turning to her boyfriend and smiled at his struggle to fix his hair, she got up and grabbed his brush and got behind him "*sigh* thank you jewel. And ofcourse we xan have matching pallets it's been a while since the last two"

[Name] went through his long hair gently from the bottom up to his scalp, Nefero let out a low hum of satisfaction feeling his girlfriends soft hands on his scalp "no problem hon~" She then started a small braid from the side front downwards and added some hair jewelry  "do you have any specific color pallet in mind?"  [Name] ended decorating one braid and started one more on the other side

Nefero looked at her from the vast mirror of the vanity he stared for a minute with a quizzed look "hmmm I think we should get one with green, blue and gold tones with some shimmer in them" he puffed up his chest proudly as if it wasn't the same type he would get for them since it had his signature colors

what can he say? he loved to see her wear them on a makeup look or for clothes...maybe for underwear too

He blushed at the thought 'I should buy her a set' he chuckled lowly, snapping back to reality as [Name] finish decorating the last braid he turned getting up and holding her by the waist pressing his chest onto her's

[Name] was confused for a moment but soon placed her hand on his waist, the two looked at eachother with loving eyes "ready to go now my jewel" Nefero let go of her and grabbed her hand and with the other got their matching bags

They walked out of the house and into the limo with the sphinx bodyguards in tow

                           At the mall

The two are seen walking hand in hand with the sphinx's on each side of the couple

Ghouls stared in envy of [Name] who walked with confidence,her head held high while turning to Nefero and pointing at the shops, after a few seconds the two decide to head to a popular clothing store

Inside [Name] was fascinated to see the new trends in fashion right before her eyes, it all looked so clawsome!

Nefero turned to [Name] "Meet in 20 minutes and reunite at the dressing room, you'll try out first" the ghoul nodded excitedly and went to the racks,Nefero called from behind "Remember I'm paying!" She snickered ofcourse he would classic Nefero

                  Time skip 20 minutes

[Name] headed to the back of the store to the dressing rooms, she has 3 dresses, 2 tops for bottoms just 2 skirts, plus 3 pairs of shoes to try out

She meets Nefero and she quickly notices that he has a ton more items of clothing than her, which was to be expected from her splurging money boyfriend, don't get her wrong she would do the same but today felt like a minimal day today

She closed the distance between and kissed his cheek "Hey hon~you ready for these amazing picks I got!!" Nefero cup her face with his hands "Show me what you got my jewel" he encouraged and so the ghoul went straight to the dressing room to change quickly, so excited to show him

                        The first dress

Walking out [Name] wore a heart shape knee above the knee dress that was (f/c)  with ribbons that tied around her neck and a ribbon bow at the back with the strings going down to her knee

Nefero looked in aww at the chair he sat across from the stall, " it looks STUNNING on you my jewel!" He clapped enthusiastically "that color looks so good on you" [Name] smiled wide "thank you babe, I can't wait to wear this dress with those heels I like" she turned around and went to put the other ones

[Name] wore the other dresses that where one (s/f/c) that was tight on her skin showing her curves that made Nefero nose bleed and help up a thumbs up making the ghoul laugh harder than she ever did

The third dress was a floor length dark green dress with a slit up her thigh on her right leg, which she intentionally got for Nefero and he coincidently showed she got a suit with the same shade, that ment the next party her father needed to bring the two sons the couple could match, supper voltageus!

Next she wore the other outfits she planed with the two tops that one was a soft yellow the other a autumn orange and 2 skirts one was pencil skirt brown for the orange top and the other was a frilly white skirt for the light yellow top

 

                      On to Nefero

(A.N. I'm a little lazy so I'm not gonna describe his outfits but rest assured that he looked hot in everything)

He had gotten a whole new wardrobe just for him..well that was a little exaggerated but hey you get what I mean

It was an hour after and he was done and he looked good with everything he even had his own shirts that match my own (totally didn't get the sphinx bodyguard that was with you to tell him what you got)

           Time skip at the bookstore

[Name] and Nefero spent 2 hours at the beauty store but eventually found all that they needed and two brand new same eyeshadow pallets to match their makeup look which Nefero excitedly told [Name] that everyone will have another reminder who you are with  and to not think of you as a ghoul below him oh NO

YOU ESPECIALLY  where not below him to him you were a goddess above all else in his eyes

"Hey hon! Look at this cover!" Speaking of the goddesses here she was coming towards him with her radiant smile he looked at her with loving eyes thay was the billion time with the 5 years they've been together

"Let's see" he took it from her, it was a thriller book just like the others in her collection at her room at her parents house "it looks spooktaculas my jewel seems no matter how long we've been together there are two things that don't change about you"

The ghoul looked at him and tilted her head "and those are??" He chuckled and grabbed onto her waist and getting close to her, so close he could smell the sweet vanilla perfume she had put on earlier that made his knees weak by her intoxicating smell, he would have taken her right there but he was a man of class

" your taste in books and you're everlasting beauty inside and out that radiates every day of our life together" he spoke to her in such a sweet tone that it made her fall in love with him once more like the day he confessed

Passing the book the the sphinx next to him He cup her face with one hand and kissed her passionately their lips finding rhythm like the many time before this one and the ones to come

He parted the two where breathless he hummed lowly "your lips taste as of they where the forbidden fruit that lord me in and I let it every single time~~" he wisper into her ear making the girl flustered "thank you, now can we go? I'd like to taste you're forbidden fruit but alone if you get what I mean love" she whispers back

Nefero laughed "why ofcourse~ Let's buy those books and get out of here my queen" he grabbed your hand and kissed it gently making his way up to your collarbone as the two walked

Later on the two had a wonderful time~

_________________________________________

***Will be updating soon**

A.N.

Still not that good with smut need to practice but I'm getting good with the intimate kissing and descriptions! I think

I'll make a smut ending later on again need practice haha

Hope you liked this one

[nemo-in-wonderland]

☪️ ZIL-E-QAMAR | FIEND WARLOCK | SELDARINE DROW ☪️

Name: Zil-e-Qamar

Nickname: Zil, Ya Qamar (only Halim called her so)

Title: The Scorching Mirage

Alias: Aranea Baelfaer

Age: ≅275 Years Old (She never disclosed her real age to anyone)

Birthplace: Menzoberranzan, Underdark Hometown: Huzuz, The City of Delight

Current Residence: She is wandering Faerun without a fixed place, collecting souls as she goes. When not on the Material Plane, she resides in Mephistar.

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Race: Seldarine Drow

Class: Warlock - The Fiend

Profession/job: Before the great tragedy that apprehended her life and forced her to flee to Faerun, she worked as a Scribe for the Grand Vizier Alyana al-Azzazi, a job she was immensely proud of. Visual particular traits: Standing at 183 cm barefoot, Zil is abnormally tall for a drow, and this is an anomaly for which she has no answer to give. Scent: Oud, Rose, Sandalwood, Saffron, Amber. Subsequently, sulfur and brimestone.

Colours/symbols associated with: The Colours of the Desert at Night; The White Heron that flew at dusk; The Sphinx whose riddles couldn’t be solved and whose smile couldn’t be understood.

Languages: Midani (mothertongue), Jaanti, Kadari, Infernal Language, Common Language, she is learning Undercommon.

Accent?: Before moving to Huzuz to embark on her studies at the Al-Bidr Sallah University, she spent her childhood and early teen years in Ajayib, the City of Wonders. Therefore, she spoke Midani with the regional accent of the Pearl Cities. Her accent translates even when she speaks the Common Language, immediately clocking her as not native of Faerun.

Tropes they embody: “Determinator”,” Implacable Woman”, “Deadpan Snarker”, “The Juggernaut”, “Broken Bird”, “Heartbroken Badass”, “Be Careful What You Wish For”, “Lady of Black Magic”, “Addicted to Magic”, “Dark Action Girl”, “Revenge Before Reason”, “The Dreaded”, ”Noble Demon”, ”Troubled Past”, “The Unfettered”, “Excessive Mourning”, “Long-Range Fighter”, “Love Makes you Evil,” “Roaring Rampage of Revenge”, “Squishy Wizard”, “Tragic Heroine”, “Tranquil Fury”, “Trauma Button”, “Violently Protective Girlfriend”, “Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds", "Cry for the Devil". Personality: Determinate, Curious, Mischievous, Resilient, Resourceful, Intuitive, Loyal toward those she loves, Secretive, Mysterious, Empathetic, Charming, Charismatic, Seductive, Ambitious, Prideful, Focused to the point of Obsession, Stubborn, Manipulative, Vengeful, Can become ruthless is pushed, Emotionally Withdrawn, Short-Tempered. Detailed Backstory: Zil-e-Qamar was the adopted daughter of Valakos and Breessa, a couple of Faerûnian tiefling merchants who permanently resided in Ajayib, the City of Wonders in the Land of Fate Zakhara. Zil had a childhood of relative comfort and ease, not wanting for anything. Ever a curious child, sometimes too nosy for her own good, she spent her childhood between school, helping her parents with trading and inventorying the goods they received from Faerûn, and exploring the caves upon which the city had been built. She was a brilliant young woman, with an incandescent personality and a silver tongue and cheeky personality that could easily charm the people around her. She wouldn't take “no” for an answer, especially when embarking on a quest to discover and learn about all manner of topics, though her interest always dwelled on Magic and all its different aspects and how they intertwined and connect.

Ajayib, despite being the cradle that sweetly protected her throughout her most tender years, had very little to offer to her ever-growing thirst for knowledge. Soon enough, she made preparations to move to the Capital of the Land of Fate, Golden Huzuz. After being admitted to the Home of the Seekers of Knowledge, the Great University of Al-Bidir Sallah in the City of Delight, she enrolled in the College of Magic to expand upon her knowledge and understanding of how magic worked. She was a hardworking student, with her nose always buried in any book she could put her hands on. It was around this time that she became a devotee of Zann the Learned, the God that oversaw Learning and Intelligence.

Eventually, under the advice of Imam Renn min Zann, her mentor at the University, she sought to learn more about who she was and where she stood in the world. She enrolled for a period in the College of Fine Arts, taking classes about non-Zakharan history and costumes in the hope of discovering more about her origins. After graduating and deciding to continue her studies as a scholar, she took up the position of Scribe for the Imam, and it was during that time that she met Halim Ibn Tariq, a well-renowned Sha'ir and Vizier of Huzuz, advisor to Grand Vizier Alyana al-Azzazi, in a diplomatic visit to the University to report of its state to the Grand Vizier.

Having been assigned to be the Vizier’s guide, Zil found herself intrigued by this physically imposing yet apparently kind and soft-spoken man, who had all the authority that was expected of a man of his station and background, yet possessed none of the arrogance, a man of exceptional moral strength and vivacious intelligence, known for his even temper and warm laughter.

On his side, Halim also found himself fascinated by the young drow, the first he ever had the chance to speak with in his life, with her pale eyes always twinkling with curiosity, her insatiable need for knowledge, and her mischievous way of flirting with him. He found her company pleasant and when away for his duties, he found himself unable to stop thinking about her and her beguiling, infectious smile. Despite their mutual interest, they both believed that, due to the Vizier’s busy life and Zil’s own duties, the few meetings they had at the University were destined to remain as such. Yet, Halim extended an invitation to her to seek him out if she ever needed anything, either a favour or even just his company. Little did Halim know about Zil’s own resilience and way of making things happen the way she wanted. Zil applied to become a Scribe in the service of Grand Vizier Al-Azzazi, to be closer to the man who had completely captivated her. She obtained the position, thanks to her own merits and partially thanks to the good recommendation of the Imam. In time, Zil and Halim became friends and started to spend more and more time together, their mutual attraction growing and blossoming like the beautiful lilies that bloomed in the pans surrounding Hazuz when the rains blessed the city. It grew until being far away from each other felt more torturous than standing underneath the ruthless Zakharan Sun at noon without shade.

With the blessing of the Grand Caliph himself, they married and spent more than 40 years of blissful happiness. But the Court of Enlightenment was not devoid of intrigue, and Halim, with his progressive philosophies and advocacy to abolish the common practice of trading slaves, had drawn upon itself the malcontent of the slave owners in the Caravan District. He had fallen victim to a ploy that resulted in an incrimination for corruption and bribery.

Zil knew that her husband was innocent, having worked closely with him for all those years, and tried with all the means she had available to find who was behind all that scheming and bring them to justice to clear her husband’s name. But before she could do anything of substance, she was apprehended and charged with the accusation of being complicit and accessory to all of Halim’s crimes. Despite all her efforts, despite all her begging, she couldn’t find the resources she needed fast enough, and the accusations against her husband transmuted from corruption to treason that warranted a death sentence without appeal.

All Zil could do was witness the execution from her cell, not leaving her husband’s eyes for one moment, not even when the blade of the executioner came down and shattered her entire heart in the process.

Alone in her damp cell, shell-shocked and broken, Zil waited all night for her own sentence to pass, wishing with all her might that the moment would come soon enough so that she could be reunited with her husband once more. But, much to her dismay, during the darkest hour that preceded the arrival of dawn, the Grand Vizier herself showed up in her cell, maintaining complete secrecy.

All she carried with her was a note, carved in her husband’s handwriting, and the promise that, as a last favor to Halim, she would see Zil out of Huzuz safely. Zil escaped her own death, thanks to her husband’s foresight and protection, and fled away from the Golden City and beyond Zakhara, finally reaching distant Faerûn.

After Halim’s death, Zil assumed a new name, Aranea Baelfaer, and turned to every god and goddess in the pantheon, begging, imploring, and beseeching all of them to grant her the power to vindicate her husband and to see him one last time. But all her prayers and supplications fell into a deafening silence that reeked of contempt. Enraged with the gods for letting something like this befall a man as virtuous, kind, and compassionate as her husband, she didn’t give up and persistently sought the means to gain the power she needed, her mind and resolve sharpened by grief and rage.

Her obsession and focus would reach such heights that they resonated all across the Weave until they attracted the Patron who would finally answer her call and grant her the power she desired: Mephistopheles. Most treasured possession: Her husband’s jambiya dagger and a lock of his dark hair that she wore braided in her own; the last letter that he wrote her, that she re-read every single night before going to sleep.

Sexual and/or romantic situation: After Halim’s death, she decided to forgo any kind of romantic relationship, absolutely refusing to run the risk of facing the same type of pain she went through when her husband was killed. In her grief, she asked Mephistopheles to actually freeze her heart, putting it in a stasis. As a wager between the two of them, Mephistopheles added a small clause that declared if someone were ever able to thaw her frozen heart, she would lose her powers, her soul would be his and the contract would be considered fulfilled regardless of whether she had reached her vengeance or not. Zil humored him, secure in her belief that no one on Toril would ever be able to ever ignite the flame in her dead heart again. Last famous words indeed. Favourite place in Faerûn: She doesn’t truly have one. She finds Faerun excessively cold and humid. But if she were to choose one, it would be the Great Harbor of Waterdeep, from where she can see the City. What makes them happiest: She likes to create small illusions of her memories of her years in Zakhara and stare at them, wishing with all her might that they were more than just echoes from a distant time.   What makes them angriest: Any uncalled mentioning of her late husband was enough to provoke at best a death glare and at worst an outburst of pure ire. She didn’t appreciate talking about her past or about him with anyone, for her memories of him are hers and hers alone. What makes them laugh: She rarely laughed from the heart. But something that did make her laugh and gave her comfort was hearing children’s laughter. It reminded her of simpler times. Biggest secret: Who her Patron is and the terms and conditions of her pact with him. Obsession: Revenge. She sold her soul to Mephistopheles in order to gain the power she needed to grow as powerful as she needed to be and hunt down and kill whoever was involved in Halim’s betrayal and death. If the Gods didn’t want to help her in the path of vengeance, then the might of the Archdevils would.

soooo.

While on vacation, I had sometime to properly sit down and finally write Aranea's (or should I say Zil's?) proper bio, alongside working on her infographic (and I am SO HAPPY with how it turned out. I love doing this kind of things, I have done so many that I haven't shared lol).

I still need to add a few things as I keep playing the game, which is the reason why I haven't written anything about her current relationship with Gale, the other companions, or the Dream Guardian. But as I proceed, I will update this (or make another post, we shall see) and fill in what is missing.

In the meantime, thank you for reading her profile and I hope you will love this brainchild of mine just as much as I love her <3

--Nemo

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template by @arcandoria; abridged profile template by @lairofsentinel)

[battfishe]

felt like in order to keep my title as a weirdfur I needed to actually make more weird furry art. so heres my girlfriend @balloonomancerr and I as sphinxes yay

[keydekyie]

just let her put the damn flower in your hair

[ptn-imagines]

Hello hello!!

Notorious cat anon asking once again for Langley and f!chief but what if chief brought a cat or two she found on the streets home

Like the cat distribution striking the two lol

The idea of a sphinx cat that hates Langley and loves everyone else was too funny. Otherwise known as: Langley competes with a fucking cat for her girlfriend's attention.

F!Chief bringing a street cat home to Langley

The first thought Langley has is that this creature is the ugliest thing she has ever seen in her life. It’s an exaggeration, of course, but the cat definitely isn’t the cute and fluffy type people think of when they think of felines. In fact, it doesn’t have any fur at all, which is what contributed to the initial reaction in the first place.

After realizing that Chief is in fact holding a cat, and not some hairless Mania abomination, though, Langley smiles. It’s just a sphinx cat, albeit a particularly thin and ragged one. And though she won’t admit it aloud, being cuddled up with the Chief like that certainly lends it a great deal of cuteness factor.

Langley can’t help but tease Chief about picking up strays – a little nod to her Sinners, though of course, this time the Bureau’s new resident is a stray. She pretends to hum and posture about keeping more animals in the MBCC, but Langley already knows she’ll be letting the cat stay. She appreciates the intelligence and independence of felines, though it certainly doesn’t hurt that Chief is looking at her with the wet eyes of a stray kitten herself.

However, it becomes almost immediately apparent that the cat hates Langley. He’s cuddled up and purring without a care in the world in Chief’s arms, but the moment the director approaches, his claws are out and he’s hissing and spitting with vindictive fury.

Judging by the look on Chief’s face, Langley figures she’s expecting her to take back her approval now  that the cat has lashed out at her. Instead, Langley just chuckles and says that as long as nobody gets hurt, the feline can be as grouchy as he likes.

She finds out later that she’s the only one the cat hates. He’s more than content to curl up on the laps of literally anyone else in the Bureau and be stroked. In fact, naming duties ended up falling into the hands of some of the younger Sinners – they decided on “Fluffy.” For a hairless cat. Langley is amused.

Fluffy lives a pampered life in the Bureau, and he’s soon allowed to come into hypnotherapy sessions to soothe nervous Sinners. If he’s not cuddling up with one of the inmates or rubbing against their legs, though, he is almost always with Chief.

This includes, somehow, every time Langley needs to go see her. He kicks up a fuss whenever she appears and if they lock him outside the room, he won’t stop howling and scratching at the door. It amused Langley at first – at least until she realized she was competing with a damn cat.

Still, Langley is neither cruel nor heartless, despite the reputation she’s carefully curated for herself as the Silver Spider, and she won’t deprive the Bureau of what has become an integral member of it. So, instead, she changes tactics.

Despite her incredibly busy schedule, she takes time out of it to go and sit in whatever room Fluffy is in. At first, it goes exactly as one would predict – he goes into his usual feline hissy fits, yowling up a storm, though Langley notes he never takes a swipe at her unless she gets too close.

As time goes on, the yowling dies into low growls and then into suspicious glaring. When she walks into a room one day and Fluffy looks at her only for a moment before going back to sleep, Langley can’t help but smile. Meanwhile, everyone else in the Bureau suffers from increasing confusion as to why the Director of the 9th Agency is spending more and more time doing… nothing?

The crux of the whole plan comes one day when Langley walks into her office and finds Fluffy curled up on her chair. Mission: befriend Chief’s cat, success.

It’s a relief to not be competing with a cat for Chief’s attention anymore, and as for Chief? Well, she’s just glad Fluffy no longer screams bloody murder whenever Langley walks into the room.

[aloysiavirgata]

Title: Fern Hill

Rating: NC-17

Timeline: pre-series

Category: XF/The Fall crossover

Summary: For everyone who asked for a Stella/Mulder prequel from my little prompt ficlet

Author’s Note:

Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,

Time held me green and dying

Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

The blonde two stools down is eyeing him unashamedly. She’s got on tight jeans and a white cable knit sweater, summer-wheat hair straight out of a Ralph Lauren ad. Eyes like Lake Tashmoo before a storm.

“You’re Phoebe Green’s American,” she observes. It isn’t a question. Her voice is buttery, a burnt-velvet purr that makes the back of his neck tingle. She sips at a rock glass full of something tawny in the subfusc gloom of the pub.

Mulder, intrigued, moves next to her. “What the fuck?”

She blinks, the barest hint of a smirk tightening her lips. “I’m not wrong.”

“I’m not Phoebe’s anything,” he replies. “She stole my Pink Floyd sweatshirt and burned my Knicks hat. She fucked a vegetarian trumpet player.”

The blonde smiles fully now. “You’re marked forever, I’m afraid. You’ve some kind of animal name, haven’t you? Bear, was it?”

He knows she knows his name, this unsettling girl. Somehow, he knows she does. “Bear,” he agrees.

“Stella,” she says, holding out a slim, white hand. “You’re Fox.”

It’s a warm plum in her mouth. Delicious, desirable, something to be proud of. Belongs in the Ralph Lauren ad with her pre-Raphaelite face and flag of golden hair.

“Mulder,” he says, shaking the proffered hand.

“Mulder.” She squeezes his fingers, then withdraws.

Mulder sips his gin and tonic, pondering. “So you know Phoebe socially,” he says. “That must be a hell of a thing. As a woman.”

Stella considers him down the length of her nose. She has the androgynous beauty of a Greek youth. A Roman statue of Minerva.

“Where do you think she got the idea for Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s grave,” Stella asks.

He almost chokes on an ice cube.

“If you’re coughing you’re breathing,” she observes, dispassionate, as he nearly hacks up a lung.

Mulder’s heart rate settles back to normal after a moment. He looks at Stella, the hard lines of her cheekbones, her incongruously cute freckles.

He thinks of Stella and Phoebe together. Wonders if he could make that happen, their peony mouths and fine-boned faces. He would be willing to temporarily make up with Phoebe for it. Phoebe would love the theater of a dramatic apology and a threesome.

“Was the grave a hot tip or a shared experience?”

Stella only smiles, sphinx-link. Taps her glass in the bartender’s direction.

“Does it matter,” she asks, watching as her drink is refilled.

Tremendously.

“No. Do people do a lot of Brando impressions?” He clutches his t-shirt with an anguished expression.

She chuckles a bit at that and Mulder feels like the cleverest man in England. In the Northern Hemisphere.

“Plenty,” she says. “Which I like, because it creates a self-selecting population of people to avoid.”

People, he notes. Not men. He thinks of Phoebe again, her dark hair against Stella’s blonde, imagines ringing her up and what he’d say and-

Stella’s hand on his thigh. “Where do you live?” she asks. Her voice is obscene, her high breasts soft against the sweater, slender neck and perfume rich with amber and honey and musk.

He gulps at his drink. “Uni flat. You?”

“Summertown,” she murmurs. “It’ll be nicer than your place.”

Mulder blinks, impressed. His parents give him money but not Summertown money.

“Are you inviting me home with you, Stella?” he asks, low.

She considers him, swirling her glass. “I’m inviting you to my bed. I don’t need you lingering in my home.”

He laughs aloud while wondering if he is capable of falling for a woman who doesn’t have substantial emotional damage. “So you don’t want me to show up with two dozen roses and a box from Charbonnet et Walker?”

Stella sniffs disdainfully. “I’m not interested in the girlfriend role as a concept. I plan to finish school and be a detective.”

He perks up. “I’m planning on the FBI when I wrap up the DPhil. Don’t know that I’m interested in the girlfriend thing as a concept either at his point,” he says, knowing it savors strongly of bitterness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Stella says. “I think you’d make someone a very nice girlfriend.”

Storm-goddess eyes wicked over her glass.

He pays both tabs and watches her finish the Scotch.

***

Her flat is full of solid wood furniture and good upholstery. Some of the framed artwork appears original, and there’s a Cross Townsend pen on her walnut secretary. A stack of leather notebooks that look like Smythsons or Conway Stewarts.

He wishes he could stop this, the eternal analysis.

Her bedroom smells of lemon wood polish and clean cotton and expensive unguents. The queen bed is made, an ivory silk robe draped at the foot of it. There’s no girlish clutter on her shelves, no stuffed bear on the pillow.

There’s a copy of Where the Wild Things Are on the mantel. “Seems a little below your reading level,” Mulder observes.

“It was my favorite book when I was little.” She touches the cover. “Well, one of my favorites at least. I rather wanted to be King of All Wild Things.”

He grins at her. “You wouldn’t have even needed the wolf suit I bet. You’re a bit scary, Stella.”

She snaps her teeth.

Mulder sees the two of them in her gilt-framed mirror, Stella fierce and delicate as a faerie out of Perrault. Her pale throat, her bright eyes. In the moment he wants a cantrip that will bind her.

Her face is serious again. She unbuttons his shirt with focused dexterity, her brows furrowed, her lips pursed. Dior Poison, he sees on the vanity, and gives a name to her scent.

Stella planes her hands over his chest. “Very nice,” she says, peering up through dusky lashes. She pulls her sweater over her head, drops it to the floor. Wriggles out of her jeans and kicks them aside.

He is hard as a fifteen year old.

“I try.” He hasn’t kissed her yet, even though her mouth reminds him of a little Parisian pastry and he wants to nibble at it. Apropos of which, Mulder had expected plain cotton lingerie but it’s all frou-frou lace confectionery trimmed with rosettes and ribbons. Feminine. Delightful. Flawless.

“God, you’re so-“

“Shhh,” she says, pushing him down onto her bed with a single, imperious finger. “I know all that.”

Stella straddles his lap and he’s somehow surprised that such a large presence should weigh almost nothing.

She leans into his grasping fingers, rolls against his tensed thighs. Sighs when he thumbs the front of her panties.

“Stella….”

She leans forward to kiss him, her hard belly against his own. Her clever hands at his fly.

“Let’s see how badly Phoebe fucked up, hmmm?”

***

They had wine from a Thermos and went to bed. She’s lithe and breathless in his arms, spine like worry beads against his palms.

He’d spoken to his father who helpfully reminded him that Samantha had gone missing around this time and shouldn’t he come home to see his mother?

Stella’s fully nude, hair a long braid over her shoulder, and he tugs it experimentally.

Stella makes a liquid noise in her throat, tightens around him.

He unwinds the elastic band and works the plait loose with his fingers. Spools her hair around his hand and pulls down hard until their lips are brushing.

“Fuck,” she hisses into his mouth, and it’s what he needs somehow, the grinding pain of her little teeth and he comes and comes and comes.

***

He’s headed home in six weeks with a DPhil and an acceptance to the FBI Academy and vague praise from his parents.

“Fox,” she groans against his temple. “Fucking hell.”

Mulder nips at her throat, her hair spread behind her like the tail of a comet. “Why did you call me Fox?”

“Why did your mother call you Fox?” she asks.

“She is a very sick woman,” he says into Stella’s patrician ear.

She laughs and bites his lower lip. “Me too,” she mumbles, and her heels dig into his kidneys.

***

They never said goodbye, not really, and he meant to let her go like the tide.

His flight home is in thirty six hours.

“I thought I was ready but I- a pregnant woman,” she says flatly into the phone. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He lets her use him, her lean swimmer’s legs against his own and her skirt rucked up at her waist and her tailored Met jacket and blouse fallen open along her breasts, lacy cobweb of a bra fighting for its life.

He gazes up at her, pink and silken as rose petals.

White and distant as the moon.

“Hurt me,” she gasps. “Mulder, please, I want-”

He hurts them both.

***

He leads her into the hotel room shower, washes her princess hair while she stands still, staring at nothing.

***

He left bruises along the softest parts of her. The hidden parts, where she asked. The palimpsest of her skin will be flawless again in a few days, and he tries not to think about how else the dark things in her might like to play. He absorbed her pain like charcoal absorbs poison.

“I truly don’t know if I can do this,” she remarks to the ceiling, palms against her eyes.

He tastes her on his lips, oysters and Sauternes. He wants to nudge his face back between her thighs in the way we are called by water. She is primordial and essential and delicate and terrifying. He has an Ivy League degree in psychology, even if it’s only from Pennsylvania, and he still can’t figure her out.

“You can,” he promises, like a faithful acolyte.

“And what does it mean if I can,” she asks and he wonders the same thing about himself.

***

He fucks her against an alley wall, thick with refuse and ennui. She’s gorgeous the way that supernovas and jaguars are gorgeous.

“Stella,” he groans. “Jesus.”

“You’ll miss your flight,” she mumbles, then laughs at the idea that they care.

“You going to see me off?” he pants into her neck. “Kiss me goodbye at the gate?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I told you I have a meeting in 45 minutes.” She hitches a knee up higher. “Oh, god, like that.”

Mulder grinds into her until she cries out, nipping at his chin, his earlobes.

He follows her into the starburst haze of an orgasm, his back shuddering, and Stella hot and twitchy against his chest.

They breathe together for a moment, riding out the wave.

“We both have to go,” Stella reminds him. “A parting of the ways this time, I think.”

Mulder lowers her to the ground. He ties off the condom and shoves it into a garbage can.

He zips his jeans up, watches Stella smooth her uniform, her hair.

“Here’s lookin’ at you kid,” he says, rather lamely.

But Stella smiles one of her rare, full smiles. “One day when you’re a world famous profiler and I’m Commissioner we’ll team up,” she says.

He brushes brick dust from her shoulder. “Why are you running the Met and I’m a lowly Special Agent still?”

She looks confused. “Because I like to be in charge and you don’t. You didn’t want to be King of All Wild Things.”

He palms her jaw, thumbs her cheekbone. He smiles fondly down at her.

“Don’t,” Stella warns.

Mulder shakes his head. “No. Go, run the Met and remember the little people when you ascend the throne.”

She covers his hand with hers for a moment. “Phoebe fucked up badly,” she says. “Now go back to the colonies and teach them how to make a proper cup of tea.”

“We just throw it in the Harbor.”

Stella squeezes his hand before taking it from her face. She walks briskly out of the alley without ever looking back.

***

He makes the plane, though barely. He falls asleep over Dublin. He dreams of sailboats and lonely islands and even in dreaming he knows Stella is right. He wants to be where someone loves him best of all.