#one day i'll fix my tags on these things

[forlorn-crows]

crow I'm going to bite you so damn hard for that swissalps thought I swear

you'll just have to keep biting me i guess. rambling essentially co-written by @askingforthesun bc we wouldn't shut up about it last night

[continuation of this post]

Swiss kneeling between his legs, keeping them open so he can see mountain clench around nothing. Mountain dripping and whining and wriggling bc he wants more, but oh, swiss is nothing but a menace. Big hands on mountains thighs while he stretches him open and mountain is panting and making the loveliest sounds. Moans and hiccups and whines that go through the break in his voice. Hole clenching around the plug begging it to go all the way in

So patient, being such a good boy for me as swiss denies him the one thing he wants. Little dick just throbbing, getting so full from being untouched. 

Swiss-uhh, mountain whines with his head tossed back on the pillow

Mountain-uhhh, swiss only teases back. What you want, baby, hm?

Need it in, please, put it in

Its not all the way in bc he wont let mountains body suck it all the way in, its hovering at the widest part and he just wants to cry. He wants to feel full and swiss is just tormenting him bc he wants to see his wet cunt squeeze around nothing

And swiss being swiss, when he finally does push it all the way in, he does it with his pinky, ring and middle sinking into his cunt simultaneously and trapping mountain’s clit between his thumb and forefinger.

That’s it baby, right there, huh? All sweet and sappy and mountain nearly cries bc gods its so fucking much. Torture and pleasure all at once and he’s drooling so much, he cant think straight

Gonna cum—fuck ‘m gonna— and swiss encouraging him come on, baby, be a good boy and lemme see you cum for me

And mountain whines like a wounded animal, huffing out moans every time his stomach spasms as hes cumming and all swiss can do is watch, eyebrows upturned and groaning out a fuuuuck yes

His own dick is nice and chubby now, so drunk on watching mount’s ass clench around this pretty pink toy and….yeah, he wants in now. Wants to replace that plug with his hard as steel cock, fuck another one out of him. Sweet talkin mount as hes still coming down let me treat you right sweetheart and his hands just alllll over him. Draping himself over the earth ghoul and mouthing at his neck, begging to fuck him and mountain can only whine out a sad uh huh

Swiss slowly turning him onto his belly. Rutting his cock against the flair of the plug and lucifer the noises mountain makes.

Gonna fuck you so good, baby, so much better than that toy groaning and growling right up against mountain’s ear yeah? Gonna take it for me? Shit makes you so wet, doesn’t it? And hes stroking his folds so soft compared to the rest of what hes doing

Mountain just nodding feverishly against the sheets, pressing his ass back against swiss’ length. Claws digging into the fabric, close to ripping and swiss chuckles so deep. Pulling at the plug and relishing in the way it makes him drip

Lets get you filled up, pretty boy

[bonicedemandarina]

Happy birthday Viktor! Ignore Jayce over there, he's cut out bc this isn't about him/j

[beeholyshit]

Part 2: I hope you are sorry

[sciderman]

Me clicking “see all” on the tags of that post on why Nate likes Peter: “Holy shit”

[flufflecat]

Guess who got into a fucking car accident

[izzy-b-hands]

I will be forever grateful i can be on this new med. it's one a lot of folks also need and can struggle to have access to! It's important i be on it, especially if i start doing any vid collabs

(some of which, really, all of which, i unfortunately actually need to cancel that were in the preplanning stages, bc the election results have me wanting to wait and see how the general atmosphere of the country is before i agree to meet up with anyone. I feel bad for cancelling, but also i just can't know for sure how safe things are/might be going forward and I'd rather avoid the potential of. ya know. various not great things that could happen at a meet up, tho i would certainly hope they wouldn't. i don't feel like actually addressing them rn, u guys know what i mean)

That said, if the truvada initial side effects could fuck off asap would be so lovely. three weeks at worst, then they should be gone/much better or so i am told. really hope that's true bc losing my mornings to being dizzy and nauseous is Not Working for me lmao. im on week two, and now understand why my new doc said to call if i needed any 'cheerleading' and support to get thru the side effects, bc apparently she's done that for several ppl to make sure they actually make it thru the three weeks and keep on it (lovely of her!!)

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Wanted to draw but didn't wanna mess with anything that had pen pressure in it just yet, so here's some ms paint doodles done while I watched a manchild play lethal company

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[lesenbyan]

The manic calculation of "I'm tired but if I sleep will I lose the mania? If I stay up all night with fatigue overpower it? Can I even go to bed? Do I need to listen to Lemon Drop 10000x?"

[40steps]

hey i’m a mutual who dropped out in 7th grade and i just want u to know that things will be ok. i’m going back to school this year and like you can just stop either temporarily or permanently. i promise u it will be ok

:((( thank u so much this means a lot to hear . my plan has been to drop out for like two years at this point but i never really expected it to feel this much like a huge change even though it was always going to be. and my mother asked me if i just wanted to drop out when i told her i didn't want to go in today and it's sent me on a downward spiral. sorry for putting this on your dash board whoever is online and whoever saw it.

[brawlstars-dragon-au]

Been thinking about the story for my AU... given the whole Starr Park lore and how wacky it is, I'm not quite sure how to categorize this one: Are they under mind control? Are they actually people that turned into brawlers? Maybe they're trying to escape? Or maybe they're just the actual people and just living under the rule of the Starr Park creators. Who knows! I like to play with either multiple separate AUs, or even a mix of the ones mentioned. But for this au...hm...

I've got this so far: The Brawl Stars Dragon AU is leaning to the side of the brawlers genuinely are these people. Or, uh... dragons, heh. They're at the park, and they just live here. Haven't worked out the details exactly whether or not they're under mind control or not (if they're simply simulations and virtual?), but they're kinda just vibing for now :) Each brawler HAS just lived here for all their lives, and it's normal. (Not the trippy "this is normal" from the WKBRL, but it's genuinely just their lives.) Some backstories tie into the creation of the park, but some of them are just kinda about the large areas that they're originally from.

I wanna open up opportunities for asks, perhaps! I'd love to world build and go into detail about things every now and then. But for now, my main focus is to get all the designs for everyone, or at least a good majority of characters 😎

[fceriestcrdst]

my autistic ass avoided watching the x-files because i knew it would consume me....

& now here i am fully consumed even though I've only watched the first few handful of episodes of s1 (i'm regaining spoons needed for media consumption), but let me tell you w h a t!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was so excited i started crying because it combines unbridled pining, a skeptic & her believer husband partner, true crime, weird mythology, aliens (which i already knew abt obvi), unlikely besties who are prepared to square up at all times (re; scully being cold towards the agents mocking mulder & mulder being ready to fight g o d whenever anything happens to scully).

i just love the show a lot & i expected this but goddamn!!!!!! it's wormed into my spin category & now my alien spin is returning along with my 'unexplained happenings spin!!!!! i'm being consumed i tell you!!!!

[loumauve]

Jesse Faden should get to have a copy of Puddle of Mudd's Come Clean on cassette tape. you know.. as a treat (to me. who was also born in 1991 and listened to that album religiously and used to scream-sing along whenever the anger got to be a little too much to keep contained) ..but you know, also because I think it would be fun if she was singing along to She Hates Me and for Emily to walk in on that and either go Oh. or Who is this 'she'? >:(

[parfaitblogs]

i have more than enough ❀ s. reid x reader

in which the holiday season is achingly difficult to get through, when you are spencer reid, who believes he is no longer allowed to enjoy them. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. post prison!reid. word count: 2k a/n: and for my final act? the parfaitblogs special (post prison reid fic to a searows song). merry christmas from australia because it IS the 25th here!!! this is the end of my christmas advent calendar!! i had soo much fun writing these stories thank you to all that requested ♡

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

He does not deserve a Christmas. 

Perhaps that is the only thing that runs through Spencer Reid's mind the second the Halloween decor filtered out of the stores, reindeer mugs entered them; while candy canes and Santa hats adorned every little item, and Christmas trees lit up every corner of every mall.

No matter what state he traveled to, he couldn't escape the festivities of the holiday season. He's pretty sure he's the only person who wants to. 

You waited for him. He feels immensely guilty for just how much waiting you've had to do all year. Waiting for him to go to trial, waiting for him to get out of prison, waiting for him to let you in again. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

You're waiting again. A Christmas tree that blandly sits empty and undecorated in the corner of your shared apartment; a Christmas roast you aren't sure if you'll even cook takes up too much space in your fridge; gingerbread cookies you promised your friends weeks ago remaining unbaked. 

He knew you were upset about it. His Christmas loving girlfriend forced to mute the celebrations of her favourite holiday because he couldn't find it in him to be excited about it. 

He didn't know how to fix it, really. 

You had tried everything to get him back into the Christmas spirit he's had for the past three years you've spent together. Baking with him, picking out the very Christmas tree that leaves the room smelling like a pine forest together, Christmas shopping for the presents he had no will to buy for his family and friends. 

Nothing had worked. 

"Spence?"

Sitting awkwardly at his — now — very minimally decorated desk, his head lifts from the papers in front of him, eyebrows frowning towards each other as his eyes land on you.

"Hi," he murmurs, putting the pen in his hand down in an effort to give you his full attention. He was getting better at that, these days. 

"I finished dinner," you tell him, fingers fidgeting with one another; a recent habit he had noticed you'd developed in the months between his arrest and release. "If you want to come eat."

He doesn't, but then again, he never does. And despite how awful he feels, he feels even more so for what he's putting you through, and the guilt that chews away at him is enough to will him to do small things — like eating — for you. 

"Yeah," he breathes out, and stands up from the desk, following you silently over to the meal sitting at the edge of the kitchen bench you had cooked for the two of you.

Silence overwhelmed you two as you ate, as it usually does. Sitting curled up beside one another on the couch, sharing a blanket and yet still feeling so distant from each other regardless. 

"Did you call your mom?" you ask him, and his fork pauses in the plate. 

Right. It's Christmas. The time for calling family members and sharing love for them during this supposed to be joyous time. 

"Not yet," he shakes his head. "I'll... get to it. Before Christmas is over."

"You have a week," you remind him, though it isn't to be passive aggressive at all. You genuinely wonder if he's forgotten the date of Christmas that has quickly crept up on you both.

"I know."

You stare silently at the coffee table after a short nod to his words, and you wrack your brain for things to say, just to keep him talking.

"Can I give you your gift before Christmas day?" 

He lifts his head, and you feel his eyes transfix on you.

"If you want."

You want him to want it too, but you aren't sure if that's a reasonable wish anymore. 

"I do," you nod, and quickly finish up your food, before you stand, and leave the room altogether. 

He places his plate next to yours on the coffee table — he'd remember to get to cleaning those later — just as you return, a square shaped brown paper gift in your hands, a purple ribbon tied in a bow around it. 

"You got me a square?" he asks you, and your heart warms at the teasing tone in his voice. He's trying. 

"Open it," you press, instinctively shaking his shoulder with both hands pressed up against it. 

"Okay, okay."

He's meticulous in pulling the plain wrapping paper off, and you almost want to open the gift for him. 

"Did you make this?" he asks you as he carefully pulls the square apart in front of your eyes, though he does already know the answer before you have a chance to start nodding your head. 

A Victorian Puzzle Purse situates delicately in his hands. Hands that pull it apart ever so slowly, taking note of every little drawn and painted detail on the paper, opening it up to a letter that he spent two minutes reading through — confirming that he was not only reading it once through. 

"Do you like it?" you ask him, almost hesitantly. 

"Victorian Puzzle Purse's were how lovers would communicate for Valentine's day," he says, instead of answering your question directly, as he neatly folds it back up into the intricate origami square it was originally when he pulled it out. "Sorry," he quickly adds, his eyes landing back on you. "That wasn't an answer. I do. I like it a lot."

"I know it isn't much, but I don't want to overwhelm you with gifts this Christmas. I'm honestly not even expecting anything big. We can just order food in and watch movies or something this year, if you'd prefer. You just have to promise me you'll at least let me put mistletoe up outside our bedroom, because it's kind of become tradition and... sorry."

He's staring at you, half dumbfounded, half in awe, as you realise you were rambling instead of sitting in the moment of him enjoying something seasonal, but you can't even find it within yourself to be frustrated at it. For he is letting a small smile grace his lips, and you're leaning forwards with a smile of your own, and for a second or more, he is not the shattered prison man, and you are not his distanced girlfriend. 

"You can put mistletoe outside our bedroom," he says, and you're breaking into an even wider grin.

"Really?"

"It's tradition."

You light up enough for there to be no need for a decorated Christmas tree in your apartment anymore, and you're threading your fingers through his hand to drag him up off the couch. 

Your gift to him remains on the coffee table as you lead him over to your bedroom door, prompting him to stay still, as you disappear to find the piece of familiar fake greenery. 

"Mistletoe!" you present it to him, and he takes it from you habitually, using the pin you also hand him and pinning it above your heads on the doorframe.

"I think we need to buy a new one," he says, hands dropping back by his side. His eyes are trained on you, but your own head is still tilted back, inspecting the faux plant. 

"I think we need to buy a real one," you answer conclusively, finally dropping your gaze to him. 

"Next year," he confirms. "Tradition complete?"

You shake your head. "The tradition ends with a kiss."

Hesitation follows your words, and you instantly regret them. 

It wasn't that you didn't kiss, or weren't intimate in any way. It's simply that it was on occasion now, and almost always motivated by something more important than a silly mistletoe tradition.

"It's okay," you cover your unwelcome disappointment with a smile. 

He ignores your reassurance. "It does end in a kiss, you're right."

"But we don't have to," you mumble.

"Yes," his hands encase your waist to do nothing more than to pull you closer to him. "We do."

"Not if you don't want to."

"Did I say that?"

You open your lips to respond, but the words die on your tongue. 

"What did I do to make you think I don't want to kiss you, angel?" he's frowning now, and you feel guilt settle in your chest. 

"Nothing, really. We just—um—don't kiss... as much. Anymore. Which is fine, by the way, and I can understand it. You're under no moral obligation to kiss me. Obviously."

His frown deepens. "I think we're experiencing a bout of miscommunication."

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want to kiss me," he explains, and suddenly, you're mirroring the confusion on his face. 

"Why would I not want to kiss you?" you ask him, incredulously. 

His shoulders slump at the question, and you force yourself not to fill the silence that follows.

"Prison," he replies, quietly. "I didn't think you'd really even want me once I got out of prison. You don't initiate anything anymore, either. I just assumed."

"I didn't initiate anything because I was waiting for you to initiate stuff."

"I can see that now."

"I didn't want to rush you," you tell him, as earnestly as possible. "I know prison was a lot, and you still haven't told me everything that happened, but I wanted you to not rush yourself. Or... us, I guess."

He swallows the lump of emotion that lodges in his throat. "I thought you were disappointed in me. Or—well, scared of me."

"No," your heart shatters, and you're sure he can hear it in your voice as your hands instantly cup his cheeks, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. "No, oh my God, Spencer."

"You shouldn't use the lord's name in vain. It's Christmas," he jokes, weakly. The smile you give him is weak, too.

"I was terrified for you. I was so worried about you in prison, and—and what they were doing to you in there. But never of you. Not a single part of me will ever be scared of you, sweet boy."

"I'm scared of me," he whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that has tears welling in your eyes. "I think differently, you know."

"And that automatically means I should be scared of you? Or makes you any less deserving of love?"

His silence is enough of a response. 

"I love you," you settle on telling him. "No matter what baggage you came back to me with. You deserve so much love, and I hate that you have been through so much. So much so that you believe yourself undeserving. You are not. You never will be. I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if I must. Or as long as you will let me."

"Forever," he replies, and you feel his hands close over your own on his face. "I will let you forever."

"Thank God. It'd be kind of embarrassing if I say all this and then you were to break up with me tomorrow," you say, and his cheeks stretch beneath your hands as he huffs a laugh.

"I won't break up with you."

"I wouldn't let you, anyways."

"Oh really?" his hands slide down to your waist once more. 

"Yeah," you confirm with a small nod, your own hands dropping to his neck, interlacing behind it, as you draw his head closer to yours. "You're stuck with me."

"I have not a word of complaint," he replies, and he's close enough that you feel the words tattoo your lips. "I love you."

And then he's kissing you, and there is an overwhelming amount of neglected feelings you had been missing poured into you, from his soul to yours. 

It was a kiss so unlike what you had grown used to in recent months. Fingers dug into your waist as a violent reminder of what you mean to him, and for the first time since May, you believed it. 

When he goes to pull away, you barely give him time to get air before you're chasing his lips again, and he tugs you impossibly closer with a laugh that vibrates against your face. 

You kiss him until your hands go numb behind his neck, and your legs begin to ache, and your waist is sure to have bruised in the shapes of his fingertips. Chest heaving and eyes full of more adoration than you think one human can have for another, you meet his gaze once more.

"Tradition complete."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[mameillieureennemie]

this was the idea i had. i had to write it, or else i'd lose my mind. so have some smut, freshly baked, and homemade. 👍🏾

mechanic!vi x afab!reader

cw: mechanic!vi, afab!reader, 18+, nsfw; minors don't you DARE interact with this

summary: vi's work takes her away sometimes. she misses you a lot.

work takes vi away sometimes, to different cities and, at times, countries that require her attention. she's good at what she does; there isn't anyone who can fix and restore cars like she can. it's a skill she's developed and built since she was old enough to hold a screwdriver, her interest in mechanics starting long before that, too.

she enjoys her career, adores that she gets to work with cars every day, and get paid quite handsomely for it. there are times, though, where she wishes she wasn't so damn good at her job because, like now, it whisks her away.

away from you.

she's currently attending to a client's urgent call; their car had been having engine trouble, and none of the surrounding mechanics could fix it. It's a luxury car, too, with a price tag that has too many zeros on it, so it requires delicate hands and patient.

both of which vi has.

when she's working, at least.

she's been away from you for the past week now, and it's driving her a bit insane. these jobs only take a few days, at most, but parts are a struggle to find sometimes. so she has to stay until they arrive so she can get the job done.

her cilents treat her nicely, have paid for her accommodation and feeding. she's being well-looked after, having her every whim be catered to.

but still.

she wishes you were here.

"it's only a few more days," you tell her one evening via video call. you're so gorgeous it hurts, your smile shining with your smile. you're lounging on your shared bed, curled up around the pillow against your chest. "didn't you say the order's coming in tomorrow?"

vi sighs, leaning back against the headboard of her hotel room's bed. which sucks because you're not in it with her. "yeah, but i'm kind of scared it's gonna get delayed because of the weather and shit," she grumbles. "if that happens, can you come? because if i go another two days without you, i'll lose my goddamn mind."

"aw," you coo teasingly, hiding behind your (her) pillow enough so only your beautiful eyes show. a coy move that has vi's blood roaring. "only two days?"

"i'd say one, but i don't want you to think i'm obsessed with you or something," vi replies, partly playfully because god knows how obsessed she is with you. "wouldn't want to chase you off, especially when i'm not there to catch you."

"ooh scary," you say, still a tease as you lift your head a little from behind the pillow. enough so she can see your lovely mouth, so sweet and waiting to be kissed. "and if i ran and you caught me, what would you do to me?"

heat starts to simmer beneath vi's skin, warming her up nicely from within. she roves her eyes over your pretty face, licks her lips when she thinks about all the things she could do to you.

all the things she's planning to do to you once she gets home.

"can't give away all my secrets," vi replies, her voice having gone a bit hoarse from her budding arousal. "you'll find it soon enough."

your breath hitches a little, at the implication, and your gaze darkens ever so slightly. it's enough to have both of you suddenly on edge, desperation raging violently in the both of you.

the order does come in the next day, thank god, and vi jumps into work. if she's able to finish this today, she can flight back home to you tomorrow. all her focus is thrown into doing an immaculate job, as always, so she can get paid and use that money to spoil you rotten.

she's on a short break when her phone chimes, notifying her of a message. she instantly knows it's you, judging by the jingle and how you personalised it on a drunken night. vi's never bothered to change it because it's yours, and anything of yours is perfect.

vi chugs her bottle of water while simultaneously unlocking her phone and tapping the notification. the chat opens, greeting her with a video that appears rather inconspicuous at first. vi doesn't think anything of it; in fact, she's smiling already, thinking it's one of those cute video messages you send her when she's away.

but when she taps play, and the first breathy note of your moan floats through the speaker, vi's world flips upside down. she quickly pauses the video, cheeks aflame, as she clutches her phone to her chest. her heartbeat is thundering loudly in her ears, sending through a message of panic and instant arousal.

vi blinks into the emptiness of the huge garage, swallows, draws in a shaky breath, and manages to look back down at her phone.

with a shaky thumb, she presses play again and...

there you are.

straddling her motorcycle, clad in a tiny skirt that rides high with every grind of your hips. your hands grip at the handlebars, quivering a little as you use them for balance, use them to pull yourself up and push down.

you're a vision, eyes tightly closed as you find your pleasure on the leather seat. soft whimpers fall from your parted lips, gradually increasing in volume as you grind your dripping cunt down harder.

vi watches, entranced and halfway soaked, as your head falls back with a whine of her name.

"violet,"

fuck.

she can't see the mess that you're leaving on her seat, but she knows it's drenched. knows that your slick is soaking into the fabric, making it easier and smoother for you to ride. making it better, so much better, and vi's vision grows hazy at the thought.

"please, ah, please, vi," you moan, needy, as your grinds turn into harsh bounces. "i...i need you, hah, w-wanna cum—"

vi's eyes flutter, her free hand shooting down to slip past the pants of her coveralls. she hisses when she feels how wet she is, releasing a keen as she starts to rub at her throbbing clit.

"vi, vi—" you gasp, one of your hands leaving the handlebars to slip under your skirt. you moan loudly, lips parting further as you nearly cry. "i'm gonna—"

"you're gonna cum, sweetheart?" vi pants, her own orgasm cresting already. "gonna, ah fuck, cum for me?"

as if you could hear her, you suddenly nod frantically and give a startled cry, eyes going wide and unseeing as you convulse with the strength of your orgasm. there's a faint splash that catches vi's attention and that, that has her biting back a scream as she makes a mess of herself. all wet and messy and so fucking good, it has her seeing stars.

it leaves her loose-limbed, has her leaning against a wall as she struggles to catch her breath. but she's barely given a chance when her phone rings and she answers it without checking the caller ID.

she already knows who it is.

"you're so evil, baby," vi says, still breathless, and you laugh for a full thirty seconds before saying,

"so i guess you don't want to see the other video then?"

"oh my god."

vi can't fucking wait to get home.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Onychinus Personal Chef I

ꩇׁׅ݊ You became Sylus' personal chef based off of pure chance. He's picky, he's annoying and he is just so damn fine. ꩇׁׅ݊ fem!reader, sylus x personal-chef!reader pt 1 of a 4 part series ꩇׁׅ݊ pt. 2 .... ꩇׁׅ݊ pt. 3 .... ꩇׁׅ݊ pt.4 A/N: [Based on this] Shout out to @kindalonely-ngl for this idea and thank you for tagging me love. I wouldn't be me if I didn't take some creative liberties though.

Being Sylus' personal chef was never on your bingo card of life yet here you were staring down the red-eyed man with nothing, but pure loathing. That faithful day when you were just about to start closing up for the night he and his two crow masked friends walked in asking for a meal. They looked exhausted and you didn’t have the heart to turn them away. You never thought that one visit would become a daily thing. Not only did he come by daily, but he sent in multiple orders a day. The constant orders were helping your family’s small business so you didn’t complain.

This went on for months to the point where your grandparents considered him a family friend. That all came to a head when he waltz in one day offering you 'a deal you simply can’t refuse'

“You do realize it’s just me and my grandparents right? I can’t just leave them to run this place alone Mr. Qin” You usually address him by his first name, but you knew using his last name would wedge some kind of distance between you two and you wanted him to know how upset you were. You couldn’t let yourself seem welcoming at all especially when it came to this insane proposal.

“I can have new employees here to help and I will pay off the debts your family owes on this little restaurant” Your eyes widened in shock how did he know about your family debt? He grinned as he leaned down to be eye level with you. “Do we have a deal?” Your lips curled in disdain “What's in it for me?” You said through gritted teeth, Sylus could practically see the venom dripping from your lips.

And damn were your lips pretty.

Sylus was focused on your lips as he replied “Free housing and a hefty salary all while you get to cook with the finest appliances and cookware that money can buy” His gaze snapped back up to meet your narrowed eyes. “I have to live with you?”

He stood back to his full height as a chuckle seeped out of him. Damn even his laugh sounded like it could fix your finances. “You’ll be on call twenty-four seven it would be beneficial if you were already on sight dont you think?” You hated that he was right, commuting back and forth would be hell.

“Do we have a deal? Yes, no, maybe so?” Sylus bent at the waist and held out a hand almost as if he was bowing to you. You rolled your eyes and looked off to your left as you stuck your hand in his. You were shocked to feel his lips touch the back of your hand with a quick kiss. You felt your heart rate sky rocket as you pulled your hand away. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. Leave your address with Mephisto I'll have movers sent to you by morning” With that he turned and disappeared in a cloud of black and red mist.