#will she back before midnight or not?? that is the question

[wandaslittlelove]

Freak

Pairing: Agathario x Daughter!Reader Warnings: Mentions of bullying

“Mama? Mami?” the six year old calls out into the dark bedroom. It was about midnight. The moon shining through the cracks of the blinds. The girl had been put to bed hours ago but had woken up a little bit ago. Agatha wakes to her arm being shaken. She quickly turns on the small bedside lamp as she takes the small girl into her arms. Rio wakes at the movement having never been a light sleeper.

“Niña?” Rio says softly as she looks over to see her daughter in her wife's arms. There are small tears running down your cheeks as you look over at your mami. 

“Am I a freak?” Both women are taken back by your question looking at each other to see if they knew what you were talking about. They were both fully awake now Rio reaching out to brush your hair from your face and the tears from your eyes as Agatha gently rocked you.

“No baby no. Why would you think that?” Agatha asks as her hands rub up and down your back.

“The girls at school. They say that I’m a freak because of how I look because-” You pause in your sentence as you look up at Rio and immediately she understands what you mean. You had taken most of Agatha’s features. Your hair being a wavy brown and eyes a baby blue. Head to two you were like a mini version of her all except one aspect. You hadn’t learned to control the transformation yet. How to stop the bones that appeared out of nowhere. Out of all things Rio wished you wouldn’t have gotten that part of her. “They say I'm disgusting. That I shouldn’t be alive.” You whisper as you bury your face in your mama’s chest. 

“My darling, you are not disgusting or a freak, you are beautiful.” Agatha speaks as she looks to Rio. She can tell that her mind is racing. That she’s blaming herself. They had always feared you would get made fun of for it. Rio feared you would grow to despise her for it. That you would blame her for not being able to be fully normal. It’s part of the reason they had enrolled you in a school specifically for witches. They thought that maybe the kids would go easier. But it seemed that wasn’t happening.

“Do you think mami is a freak?” Agatha asks, causing both of your heads to turn at her wide eyed.

“No! Of course not.” You answered quickly as your head turned to look at Rio. Your tiny hands reached for her. Trying to show you didn’t think that. “Mami is pretty.” Rio’s heart melts at your words.

“Rio shows her.” Agatha says and Rio knows immediately what she’s asking. Rio had only shown you her true form a handful of times. Scared that you would think she’s a monster. With a deep breath the bottom part of her face turns into bone.

“Do you still think Mami is pretty?” Rio waits silently. Her nerves grow but quickly melt the second you bring a hand up to touch the bone.

“Yes.” You answer with no hesitation. Rio takes your hand in hers holding it tightly before changing back and pressing a kiss to your hand.

t

“That’s right. Mami is beautiful even when she looks like a skeleton and you my love are too. If mami is beautiful then so are you because you look like her. My skeletons.” A laugh escapes your lips at your mama’s words. Rio shares a smile with you both before a smirk overtakes her features. Moving quickly she plucks you out of Agatha’s lap and lays down with you trapped in her arms. Agatha joins in quickly, her hands tickling you as you squirm and try to get free.

Tomorrow they would have a talk with your principal and find out who was saying this stuff to you. Tomorrow they would continue to remind you that you are beautiful and loved. 

[lambilegs]

strawberry lip gloss

where you and lee, one of your close friends, decide to have a totally platonic and super friendly sleepover (wink wink).

contains: bestie!lee, reader who owns makeup, brief discussions on the expectations of makeup in the workplace (set in the nineties, so going off those expectations), contemplations on femininity, slight nsfw content towards the end (so minors dni!!)

“you know, your house would make for a perfect serial killer movie,” is the first thing you say upon lee opening the door to you.

“well, even if I managed to forget it, I’d be reminded by you saying it… every time you come over,” she dryly replies, opening the door wider to let you in.

you nearly skip inside. sure, you had been at lee’s place tons of times during the months you two have been friends, but today is different. today, you’re sleeping over. god, you’re still not completely sure how you had managed to bring such a daydream to life. it had all started two weeks ago, when you had stayed over particularly late, watching movies with her and arguing with her as to why her theories on the killer in the show you’re watching made no sense, with her not missing an opportunity to rebut and drag in all of her extensive fbi knowledge. 

when it was time to leave, she insisted on driving you back home, seeing as it was midnight and she thought it too late for you to take the bus back on your own. despite the half hour drive it would take, she, as always, fulfilled her promise, the two of you listening to the radio as the windows were rolled down, the chilled autumn breeze refreshing and invigorating. 

your mind had been pinpointed on one thing, one question, the entire drive, but your stomach was a mess of webs at the idea of asking her it. but, right as you had placed one foot out of her car, ready to leave, you turned back. “lee?”

she quietly turned to you, eyes curious.

“would you be comfortable if I slept over sometime?” at her slow blink, you rushed to erase any possible connotations to your question. “I-I mean, just because, you know, I stay back late sometimes, and this would be easier on you. but, yeah, only if you want.”

she glanced away, staring past the window for a few seconds, before turning back to you. “sure.”

jesus, it unnerved you when she did that. sometimes, the most contemplative look would settle on her features, as though she’s searching her mind for some explanation of where atlantis is. then, she’d turn back, and reply as coolly as ever.

you knew she wasn’t one for jumping up in her seat and letting her voice reach several notches higher when in agreement of something. but, still, the casual way in which she replied made you worry she had perhaps just taken pity on you, or felt pressured. you knew she was a wholly honest person most of the time, and couldn’t lie for shit, but still. maybe she felt bad for you since you’re a friend, or just felt less enthusiastic about the whole thing in general.

a week later, she had called you to talk over an article she had read in the newspaper that she thought you’d be interested in. a month ago, she had started doing that, after once giving you a newspaper clipping she had cut out, to which you insisted she could just call you. in all honesty, your insistence was really just an excuse to call her and hear her voice. not that the gesture went unnoticed. when she had first handed you the thin flap of paper, awkwardly explaining that she thought you’d like it, you nearly melted into a puddle on the spot from her kindness. when you thanked her profusely, she just nodded quietly, avoiding your gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the bouts of verbal affection.

during this phone call, you had asked her when she was free next, and when she admitted to friday evening being her only time available for a longer hangout since she got off at 7:00PM, you whined on the phone, complaining that’d only give you two so much time, since she wouldn’t reach home until 7:45PM. 

on the other line, lee’s lips had curled up at your petulant tone, and her stomach flipped at your honest, exposed want to see her. she couldn’t help but like it — how you didn’t try to diminish your desires or mince them up into digestible slices for anyone. how she could have confidence in your friendship. 

mind reeling back to your words, she had hesitated, before saying, “you could sleep over?”

and, duh, you said yes. which led to your exact position now, with you kicking off your shoes at her front door, a backpack pinching at your shoulders, duffel bag gripped tightly in your palm. lee immediately stretches her arm out, fingers brushing yours as she takes the duffel from you, hoisting it onto her shoulder and silently padding through her wooden home to the living room, setting it down. she’s out of her shoes, in a dark pair of socks, remnants of her work clothes still wrapped around her body. her fbi badge is rolled up and lying on her desk, belt hanging on the chair, leaving her in her dark slacks, a deep maroon shirt and mused ponytail. your fingers twitch, itching to comb down her brown hair, which is practically a glowing halo on her head from the golden light filtering through her windows.

you set your backpack down near the couch, which you flop down on. “how was work?”

“good.” she slowly approaches you, gingerly seating herself upon the arm of her couch. when you give her a pointed look, she looks away. “tiring. everything in this case is dependent on the minute details.” she hesitates, sucking in an exhausted breath. “I feel like I’m racking my brain every moment of the day to figure it out.”

you nod, shifting your body so you’re turned to her, the side of your torso pressed into her cream couch. “that’s understandable. it’s like a puzzle.”

her lips press together. “it is. but, one that feels like I can never put together perfectly. there’s always one piece misshapen.”

you frown. “that sounds really fucking frustrating.” she nods, eyes downcast. the bags under them are darker than usual, and something in your stomach squeezes softly at the sight. “it’s really admirable, though, how hard you’re working to fit and find all the pieces.”

she blinks at you. “it’s my job.”

"and? that doesn't mean everyone in your position would have your goodness and integrity. they should, of course they should, but still, give yourself some credit for being so invested and determined, lee."

her lips part, words catching in her throat, before closing them again. she doesn’t know what to say. it isn’t the first time you’ve praised her so earnestly, but she still doesn’t know how to handle it. she isn’t used to it. most of her coworkers see her as a mixture of passive and emotionless, while simultaneously being someone who cares too much. there had been all too many times where a partner of hers just wanted a quick arrest, but she insisted on more, pushing for all the details to be flushed out and explained, no matter the toll it'd take on her. she knew it wasn't ideal for them, but she didn't care about what was ideal and easy to wrap up. she cares about what’s right.

she knows this, but to be complimented for it unnerves her. she doesn’t think of herself as some sort of extraordinary, let alone admirable, person, and she doesn’t expect compliments to come her way because of her work. so, to receive them, and be face to face with how someone else sees her actions, gives her a rush of surprise and embarrassment. 

she shrugs. "still, it's just the right thing to do. that's all."

you smile fondly at her. her downplay of her actions makes them all the more admirable to you. she's humble to a fault – sometimes, you think it endearing, and other times, you want to shake her and scream at her about how good she is. she doesn't seem to realize it enough.

after silence hangs between you two for a few minutes, she clears her throat. "so, how do we do this?"

"do what?"

she stares at you, perplexed. "the sleepover."

laughter immediately bursts from you, arms crossing over your stomach. "do you want a rulebook or something?"

she rolls her eyes. "I mean, what do you want to do right now?"

you flutter your eyes at her mockingly. "oh, I don't know. let's play truth or dare and talk about boys."

she scoffs. "sounds fruitful."

seeing her reaction only heightens the urge to annoy her more. "truth or dare, harker?"

she glances at you, lips pursed in unamusement. when you continue grinning, goofy and wide, she sighs, eyes sliding away. "dare."

you whistle. "oh, wow, I'm impressed. someone has guts."

"you do remember my line of work, right?"

you ignore her. "hmm... what's a good dare?"

even though she knows you're just playing around, she can't help but hold her breath in anticipation. she can tell that you love pushing at her buttons, almost as though you want to test how much she’ll deal with if it’s you in question.

"I dare you to drive me to the grocery stores, so we can get snacks." you throw your legs off her couch, grabbing her keys and tossing them her way.

she catches them with ease, not even flinching. the sight has you gulping – god, that was damn attractive.

as she bends to retrieve her shoes, she looks up at you. "you know, I do have some snacks here."

you raise a doubtful eyebrow at her. "cereal is not a snack."

"yes, it is. you can eat it with your hands, and it comes in small proportions.”

"same with peas," you swiftly remark, pulling a face with her. "do you consider peas a snack?"

she nods, her face the epitome of seriousness. "yes."

you giggle, opening the door to the cool evening, sun dipping into the horizon. the sky is painted with streaks of blush and peach, kissing the trees surrounding lee's home with warmth, the yellowing leaves glowing.

she walks ahead of you, tugging the passenger door open for you. you feel butterflies swarm into your stomach at the gesture, quietly thanking her and sitting comfortably.

at the grocery store, you two languidly roam around, drifting in and out of conversation as you fill your shared grocery cart to the brink. lee picks up a pack of spicy instant noodles, and despite your wince, she smiles and tosses them into the cart. you grab two bags of chips and some sodas. when you guys enter the sweets' section, your mouth nearly juts into an enamoured pout at the sight of her eyes lighting up. 

she picks up a box of brownies, showing them to you, hesitation slowing her moves as though she's a child at show-and-tell. "my mom used to get me these."

gratitude swims in your chest at the piece of information she shares. it took months of knowing her before she started offering tidbits of information regarding herself, especially those having to do with her mother. 

you snatch the box of brownies, plopping it into your cart. "get them."

"are you sure?"

you guffaw. "lee, I'm not going to withhold you from a pack of brownies."

her lip quirks up. "how would I know? you might have very specific regulations for your sleepovers."

you roll the cart away, relishing in how she immediately falls into step with you, her shoulder brushing against yours. "that sounds more like you, lee."

she snots. "I don't think I've attended enough to qualify as a connoisseur."

you groan. "god, 'connoisseur'? you really are a dork."

her eyes crinkle at your words, almost as though she enjoys your playful insult. "still sure about coming over?"

you bump her shoulder. "yeah, don't worry, you being a dork doesn't make me wanna hold back on a sleepover."

"well, actually, I was asking it more for my own sake."

"oh, fuck off, lee."

when you both return home, you immediately set to taking out your skincare from your duffel bag, heading into her bathroom to wash your face before you get too tired. when you place all your products next to hers, you pause, a part of you feeling nearly giddy with delusions at the sight of your guys' bathroom products next to each other. there’s something so domestic about it.

when you come out in your PJs, lee clears her throat at the onslaught of shyness beginning to worm its way through her. she's already nervous for the sleepover as is, but seeing you in this state, in the clothes you sleep in, feels all too intimate for her to handle. she rubs her hands together from where she's seated on her couch, trying hard to think of the right way to proceed. 

after her eyes dart between your finger and the coffee table in front of her a few times, she stands. "I'll go shower and change. you can, um, order the pizza."

when she re-enters the room a half hour later, it's your turn to feel your face heat up, forcing your eyes to remain locked onto her television. god, how the fuck does she make wet hair look good? it isn't your first time seeing her in such a casual state, but it still gets you flustered nonetheless to see the ever-so professional agent in such a cozy change of clothes.

"let's watch Scream," you say, trying to maintain some normalcy amidst your thumping heart.

from where she pats her hair down with a towel, she warily watches you walk to her television and set up the movie. "okay, but I'm not driving you back home at 4:00AM if you get scared from all my windows after."

you pout at her, walking back to the couch and grabbing the remote. "you're so mean. you wouldn't do that for me if I was really scared?"

she gulps, feeling something in her knees buckle at the sight of your lips softening into a frown. she hates to admit it, but she'd probably go so far as to give you a piggyback ride back home if you truly needed it. "well," she mumbles, trying not to give too much of her feelings away, "you wouldn't have to be scared. I'm here."

the proclamation makes you swoon internally. "oh, yeah? you'd protect me?"

"well, I'm not in the habit of letting friends get stalked and harmed in my presence, so, yeah."

you nearly glare at her as she continues wringing her hair out in the towel, bare feet softly thumping against the floorboards as she approaches the couch. she isn’t wrong – of course she wouldn't let any of her friends get harmed. she wouldn't let anyone at all get harmed in her sight, period. but, her admission only means that your attempt to flirt has crumbled into the wind, and she totally missed it.

you try again. "yeah, but, you know, are you that protective over all your friends?”

she seats herself down on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankle. “I guess so.”

you nearly roll your eyes. “all?” 

“yes?” she glances at you with knitted brows. she doesn’t understand why you’re pressing when it comes to such an insignificant question. her answer is true – she would protect anyone she could, and that includes friends. “why?” 

“no, no, just asking.” you try to avoid her gaze by switching on the television. it’s so unfair – how the moments when lee does make eye contact, it’s the sharpest, most intense act in the world. maybe it’s just her fbi skills or her natural tendency to observe coming into play, but when she looks at you, you feel like she can crack open your mind and read every thought.

“why did you ask more than once?”

“well, I,” you splutter, “I was just curious if it was a me thing or an all-your-friends thing.” the words feel so weak to your ears, and you wince. it’s true, but you’re definitely trying to play up the nonchalance as opposed to what you really feel inside.

“it’s for all my friends.”

internally, you deflate. you give her a small smile, feeling immensely pathetic. “ah, okay.”

lee’s eyes rove over the side of your face. your lips are pinched down, and you blinked faster at her words when she spoke them. she wonders if what she said hurt you. she doesn’t understand why – she cares for more than one person, and caring comes with wanting to protect them. it wouldn’t be reserved for any singular person, it’s an automatic for her as soon as she cares for anyone. so, then, why does she feel guilty? she sighs. she supposes what she feels for you is strong enough to have her feeling bad even when it makes no sense. 

lee glances at you again. you’re quiet, and staring blankly at the television. okay, so it seems like you might indeed be upset. tentatively, she says, “but, that doesn’t mean you’re not, um, important.” after a pause hangs, she adds, “to me, I mean.” the confession is one that has an uncomfortable heat reaching her ears. it’s not often that she says something so honest and open, and well, affectionate to you. the words taste foreign on her tongue.

but, it’s worth it when you give her a wide grin. “yeah?” 

she nods quietly, hoping you’ll drop it and not tease her. 

apparently, she’s an idealist, for you shift closer, cooing at her, “awe, so you care about me?”

she sighs. “please turn on the movie.”

with a chortle, you obey her request, switching on the film. inside, you’re still overwhelmed by what she just said. lee wasn’t one to mince words, so if she said you’re important to her, she must mean it. and that does something to you – it makes you warm and flushed inside out with delight.

as you watch, you find your gaze drifting to lee, who watches the film with intent focus, eyes honed in on the screen. she’s not the hugest fan of horror films, you know that, but still, it’s her innate instinct to observe and, if applicable, solve any film you have to show her. and you have shown her many. she’ll sometimes complain and grimace if you propose to her one she doesn’t find appealing, but she always gives in. you smile at the thought. you don’t know if she returns your romantic feelings, but even if she doesn’t, her natural care is enough to give you some fulfillment. at least right now.

you continue to stare. her lashes are so long and pretty. even without the mascara she usually puts on for work or going out. her brows are dark and bold, just like her sharp eyes, and her nose is long and pointed. her lips, thin and pink, look so soft. she’s beautiful.

lee can feel you watching her. there’s a heavy weight bearing on her from your gaze, and she tenses up, fiddling with the loose threads of her sweater. she wonders if you’re judging how she looks or simply observing her. after a moment, she can’t take it anymore. her head tilts towards you. “what is it?”

you internally curse. god, why did all your sense of subtlety completely vanish when you have a crush? you cross your arms over yourself, trying to shrug off the question. “nothing.” you know you can so use this opportunity to your advantage, as a way to flirt with her, compliment her, but you hesitate. you already got caught staring at her, so complimenting in addition to that might be too much. but, still, you can’t resist. you want her to know how pretty she is. “you just… you look really nice right now.”

the corner of her lips flinch and she blinks harder at the television. no smile, no laugh – you know she must feel awkward or embarrassed with the attention. with a tight nod, she mutters, “thanks.”

“you know, you don’t even need the mascara, your lashes are already so long.”

the lashes in question flutter as her eyes flicker about. “I just wear it for formality’s sake.”

you nod slowly. you had assumed as much. and with that thought, comes a new idea. one that has your lips curling up in mischief. “would you ever let me do yours?”

“do my what?”

“makeup.” 

she seems deeply confused. “why, what’s the point?”

“for fun.” your lips quirk up, turning fully to her. “besides, haven’t you heard? this is a quintessential part of sleepovers.”

“hm, is it?” a slight smile rises to her lips, the laugh lines at the corner creasing beautifully. like gift wrapping paper. folding and pressing to hold something tender within. “I guess you won’t take no for an answer, then, right?”

“nope.” 

she snickers quietly, shaking her head. “fine. just this once.”

with an eager squeal, you hop off the couch, racing to where your backpack lays in her bedroom. you rummage through for your makeup bag before dashing back to the living room, where she’s carefully twining her hands together in her lap, watching them.

“I’m guessing we won’t watch the movie.”

you still at her voice. despite having chosen the movie yourself, and her not enjoying horror, it sounds like she’s actually disappointed at the idea of ending it early. the thought makes you both touched and momentarily saddened. “no, no, we’ll keep it on. you can watch, and I’ll listen.”

as you seat yourself cross-legged on the couch, facing her with your right side to the television, she glances at you wryly. “except this is a film, not radio.”

you snort, unzipping the bag. “I’ve seen this film before, I won’t miss anything.”

lee’s eyes peak at all the products, widening a bit. she was never one for makeup herself. she just never had an interest in wearing it, and a lot of it usually made her feel uncomfortable due to the stimulus of it. the only reason she dabs some on for work is merely because it’s protocol, the way her badge and uniform is. she knows it’s expected of her, and she’s fine to apply just a faint amount of it if it means she can head to work and start on her assignments without complaint. 

“not a lot, though,” she says, feeling a tad intimidated by all you have. all she owns is one tube of mascara, one lipstick that nearly matches her exact natural colour, and foundation that she rarely uses. “it doesn’t feel comfortable on my face.”

“okay, okay, I’ll just do eyes and lips, then.” you couldn’t really care less, in all honesty. you’re just happy to have free reign on her face in any capacity. for at least now, you have an excuse to ogle her. “okay, turn to me.”

she frowns. “you said I could watch.”

“ugh.” you roll your eyes, lips pinched as you try to think of a solution. one starts blinking in your head, but it’s going to require a lot of proximity. your mouth twists in both amusement and shyness. it’ll be closer than you’ve ever been to her, but again, the makeup is working miracles with how perfect of an excuse it is. you might as well utilize it. “okay, then, can I just…” you stretch one leg over her lap, foot resting against the arm rest. it gives you the chance to be close enough to her that you can keep your back facing the television, while she can continue watching.

lee’s breath hitches at the casual display of intimacy. she knows friends do this kind of stuff – even her own friends do it. but, with you, it’s different. because not only does this physical link create the same awkward tension it does with most people who she’s unaccustomed to sharing such intimacy with, but mixed in is a pit of desire, craving for you to get even closer. maybe press your chest to hers, sit fully on her lap, tuck your head under her chin. these longings – she’s been having more of them lately, and they grip her so fervently she’s not always sure what to do with them.

“is this okay?” you ask, your eyes imploring.

she nods, not trusting her voice. 

you pull out a brush with a small bunch of bristles at the top. “you’d look good with these tones.” you point your brush at the brown shades, looking at her expectantly. 

except lee doesn’t know anything about makeup, so she’s unsure as to what kind of input she could provide. “I wouldn’t know any different.”

“which makes you the perfect victim for this.”

she raises an eyebrow. “victim? should I be concerned?”

“maybe just a bit.” with a smirk, you lift the brush up, feeling tingles in your hand when you press the side of it to her cheek, lifting the brush. “close your eyes.”

she delivers you a pointed look before shutting her eyes. “I don’t know how I feel about being at your mercy like this.” her voice is hushed in a light, teasing tone.

“don’t worry, the brushes aren’t the most efficient weapon,” you giggle, swiping the light, cream coloured base along her eyelid. even this part of her is so pretty, glowing under the orange light of her cottage. 

she mutters, “it’s not very reassuring that the reason I should feel safe is because your brushes aren’t a weapon rather than due to your decision-making skills.”

you burst into a loud bout of laughter, stilling the brush for a second. “hey, listen, they always say living with a friend can make or break with what you guys have, so I don’t know, maybe you’ll piss me off tonight and I’ll get some wandering thoughts.” you continue dabbing the power on her other eye, brush stroking in smooth, gentle sweeps.

“might I remind you whose house this is? and who’s the fbi agent here?”

“no, you may not.”

a small huff of laughter puffs from lee’s lips. she doesn’t think she’s ever told you this, but it’s easy to have this back-and-forth with you. it’s not often that that happens – not that she has many long term bonds to use as reference points. but, she usually struggles, even with coworkers she’s known for years, to lose herself to an easy, effortless conversation. it took time, yes, but with you, it feels as instinctual as brushing her teeth in the morning. lest for the few tense moments that arise from her attraction to you. she usually tries to ignore those.

you swap brushes, patting the new one gently into a darker shade of brown. you hesitate before gently grabbing her chin, keeping her steady. you can see the way her throat bobs at the touch and it sends a surge of pleasure and itching curiosity within you. does your touch ignite something in her that hers always does for you?

you start dipping the brush into the crease of her eyelids, and you stifle a laugh when she hums quietly. “enjoying it?”

“it feels okay.” 

“just ‘okay’?” you press with a coy smile. 

“mhm. you’re too unsteady for it to feel truly good.”

your eye twitches, refusing to give into the amusement bubbling in you. “oh, fuck off.”

a few minutes later, you pull back, admiring your handiwork. “open your eyes.”

she does, and her eyes pop out a bit more than usual with the shadows surrounding them. she blinks tentatively, looking a bit like a startled deer caught in the middle of the road. 

“very pretty,” you laugh, patting down her warm cheek affectionately. and it’s true. it’s different from her usual look, that’s more than evident, but she still looks beautiful. 

lee hums thoughtfully, shifting her gaze back to the television. this is an embarrassing position for her, to say the least. and she’s acutely aware of the anxiety beginning to rise within her stomach, giving it a dull sort of ache. she’s not necessarily insecure about how she looks, but there’s something deeply exposing about having your face so close to hers, and having every minute detail of hers fully revealed. the touches you’re giving don’t help either. the brushes of your fingertips against her skin, the warmth of your breath on her chin, the lingering of your gaze. each miniscule movement you make on her face has her shoulders unintentionally tensing.

when you start drawing a faint, brown line along her lash line, her closed eyes immediately squeeze. 

“lee!” you whine loudly. “stop moving.”

“I’m not.”

“yes, you are! your eyes keep flinching.”

her eyes open and flick towards your eyeliner. “you’re poking me.”

“I’m not!” you laugh, leaning in close again, the thigh of your extended leg pressing against her stomach. feeling the soft firmness of it makes your gut turn, and you try to ignore the contact, praying the effects of it don’t show on your face. “just try to relax your eyes.”

you start pressing the point of the pencil in, drawing the eyeliner carefully. you bite your lip in concentration, moving carefully.

her eyes pinch together again. 

“lee!” you scoff in exasperation. “I am begging you, please stop your damn eyes from moving.”

she cocks her head at you. “it’s out of my control. besides, it’s uncomfortable when you draw it.”

you snicker, muttering, “oh, strong fbi agent, my ass.”

“what was that?”

you flash her a sticky sweet smile. “oh, nothing.”

“mm.” as her eyes shut, and you continue your ministrations, trying to lighten the pressure of the pencil for her sake, she mumbles. “I am stronger than you.”

“oh, yeah?” you know it’s true. the girl across from you has been through years of training in police work, the academy, and a work out routine she’s stuck to since she was twenty and decided to go into law enforcement. but, you can’t help it, you just love challenging her. “prove it.”

without a moment’s notice, her hand darts up, latching onto your wrist and keeping your hand hovering above her face. you grunt softly, trying to shake your hand out of her grip, but her fingers clutch onto you with an unwavering strength, keeping the limb locked in place. her eyes are still closed, but a faint smile plays on her lips.

after a few more seconds of struggling, you sigh, voice slightly petulant as you say, “okay, okay, I get it, let me go!”

“do you get it?” lee taunts back quietly, grin widening. it’s satisfying, in a way. you’re always all talk with her, teasing her mercilessly, trying to get a rise out of her, annoying her. having moments like this where she gets the upper hand are amusing, to say the least, and she takes a secret pleasure in them.

and you? well, thank god her eyes are shut, because that little comment, and the tone she says it with, have you shifting in your place, trying not to draw attention to the movement by stiffening your leg on her lap. there’s something so attractive about it. lee has her insecurities, yes – as her friend, she’s revealed some of them to you during late nights spent at cafes and aimless drives. but, she also carries herself with a quiet, subtle sort of assertiveness that is wholly enticing. nothing too showy or obnoxious, but something. something that makes her just look so cool, even when she’s not trying. and now is one of those moments. with the way she doesn’t even struggle with holding you in place, how she’s nothing but silently humoured. the sight has a flood of lewd thoughts worming its way into your mind and you try to shake them from your head.

“yes, yes, I do,” you groan, wrist tugging from her hand when she finally releases. you twist it tenderly, pouting at her. “you’re such a dick.”

she cracks one eye open. “for taking on a challenge you initiated?”

your eye nearly twitches. “yes, exactly. now close your eyes.”

her smile remains. “mm, okay.” 

after finishing the eyeliner, your watchful gaze roves over her open eyes. her eyes are already so breathtaking as is, but the eyeliner makes them pop out even more. “good.” 

the mascara is the easiest. at least, you think it should be for her, since she applies it everyday already. but, you? you have to lean your hand along her face in order to stop it from shaking. those dark irises are zeroed in on you, latching onto your face as she keeps her gaze steady to make your task easier. the silent gesture is kind enough that you internally melt, just a bit, while the focus she’s staring at you with makes you feel like all your nerves are prickling. 

“do you like the mascara?” you ask, trying to break the awkwardness. 

lee pauses before answering. “no. it took a while before I got used to the feeling of it.” she’s not fond of it, just accustomed to it. frankly, the first few times she put it on were unbearable. she kept accidentally blinking and getting it smeared, and would struggle to strain her eyes in order to keep them wide open for its application. she sometimes poked herself in the eye, too. it made her feel a bit embarrassed back then, to struggle like that. most women had learned this kind of stuff at an earlier age, but here she was, barely able to keep her hand from trembling at twenty-two. she’s just never felt drawn to it.

she sometimes wonders where this lack of desire comes from. for so many other women her age, it’s so easy, so natural, to engage in these rituals of femininity. but, for her, it just feels foreign and uncomfortable. even now, she’s only at ease with the situation because it’ll only be you who sees her. if it was any other circumstance, she’d be unravelling at the seams.

she supposes it’s just a matter of preference, for the older she’s gotten, the more people she’s encountered like herself. it’s a comfort of sorts. but, it wasn’t always this way. as a preteen, it made her feel lonely and even more estranged from her peers, to be a girl who didn’t like what they liked. to be a girl who felt shrunk into her body when she tried on her mother’s makeup as a desperate attempt to see if she could adjust to it. 

“why do you wear it, then?”

she starts in surprise, the trail of her reminiscing breaking. “it’s what’s expected at work.”

“why?” you chuckle. “you’re an fbi agent whose job it is to get her hands dirty.”

the irony isn’t lost on lee. “I know. but, that’s just how it is. it’s, um… a small price to pay if it means I get to do my job without any comments. and I don’t mind it so much now.”

“still, it’s not fair. you should be able to wear none at work without dealing with comments or judgement.”

part of her softens at your fervent defense of her. “I know. I thought it was really unfair at first, too. but, older women in the field told me to just do it to avoid comments. so, I did.”

“how obedient of you,” you drawl out in a low, teasing voice, giggling when she flashes you an exasperated look. 

lee hates how the words make something stir between her legs. sometimes, your teasing takes on a sexual note, and she’s well-aware that you’re just trying to annoy her. but, still, she can’t help but sometimes wonder how it’d feel like to make good on what you say. maybe do something to get you quiet after making one too many innuendos.

the laughter ceases, and you continue in an earnest voice. “but, yeah, I get it. you just want to be able to do your job without hearing shit.” 

she nods, grateful you understand. as you continue, her fingers flex, for she feels like she’s under a microscope under your flickering eyes, which run along her eyeline and leave her feeling painfully aware of that part of her body. she tries not to move too much, but nervousness swells within her, so she focuses on rasping her fingers along the couch.

a few minutes later, when you get to her lips, you smile in pure mirth as you retrieve a tube of pink, glittery lipgloss. 

she glances down at it warily. when you give her a questioning state, she sighs and mutters, “you’ve already gone this far.”

you nearly squeal in glee. but, the intense joy morphs into a slow burn of tension when you cradle her chin and start applying the product. her lips are so fucking pretty, and it is so unfair. they’re already pink and naturally shining, and your mind is whirling with thoughts of how they’d feel under yours. the sound of the film becomes white noise in your mind, fading into the background as you become consumed with thoughts of nothing but her stomach against your leg, her hand so close to your knee, and the little breaths parting from those lips.

when you’re done, you shakily pull back, feeling hot to the touch.

lee eyes you carefully. you look a bit nervous, eyes darting between her eyes and lips, and exhales coming out a bit heavier. the spot your gaze seems to keep shifting to has lee’s breath stilling, fingers digging deeper into the fabric of the couch. her stomach flips the more she thinks about it. you’re so close, your leg warm on top of hers. and your hands were so gentle in handling the lip gloss over her mouth. she can’t help but wonder if you’d be that gentle in other ways, too. 

you swallow hard. perhaps this wasn’t a great idea. maybe it’s good that she’s always been someone who you were never too touchy with due to her aversion to it. because being this close to her now, her breaths close enough to tickle your skin, her lips impossibly shiny and tempting, is absolutely fucking torture. it has you wanting to throw caution to the wind, and close the gap, and potentially ruin one of the best friendships in your life.

you can’t. you shouldn’t. you just can’t.

but, then, her eyes linger on your mouth, and, probably without even realizing it, her tongue snakes out to lick at the gloss. 

fuck. maybe you can.

you raise a trembling palm to her face, cupping it and letting your thumb linger at the corner of her mouth. “you–you look good.” if she rejects you, you can at least say you’re just inspecting her face.

she hums. after a beat, she murmurs, “so do you.”

you throb at the words, biting your lip. she looks down again.

your thumb swipes the corner of her mouth, and lee freezes at the brief touch. her eyes seek out some answer in yours, anxiety whirring in her stomach of what could happen if she’s reading this wrong. and even if she isn’t, what will happen to you guys, your friendship, if something happens?

“listen, promise me you’ll forget about this if the answer is no.”

she gulps. “okay.”

“but, can I, um, kiss you?”

her reservations crack. even if you guys talk about this later, even if it turns out you want different things, she’ll still have had the chance to kiss you. she’s wanted it for so long, and if she gets it, she’ll at least be able to have the satisfaction of knowing what it’s like. even if it turns out you don’t want her in the same way, the uncertainty will be quelled, the fantasy eased. she knows it’s the unwise choice, the impulsive one, but to say no feels impossible.

“yeah.” 

your stomach lurches at the answer. you had hoped for it, ached for it, slightly suspected it, but to hear her, your friend, actually confirm it feels surreal. it feels like you’re half stuck in a daydream you had left at her door when you walked into her home this evening. the world around you seems hazy, just a bit softer at the edges.

when lee feels your leg tensing against her, she draws in a long breath, then inches in closer. “come here.” 

the soft-spoken words, a gentle command, finally shake you out of your thoughts and you find yourself powerless to her, winding your arms around her neck and pushing your lips to hers. the first thing that hits you is the sweet, strawberry taste of the gloss, the sugary flavour wrapping around the tip of your tongue as it sweeps along her bottom lip. she opens wider, and you move deeper, your tongues moulding against one another. the wet, squelching noises of the kiss have your hips flinching against her, and you can only pray she doesn’t notice.

but, it’s lee – of course she does. she tries not to smile as she feels your body shifting against hers, using the opportunity to pull you forward and onto her lap. when she feels the solid weight of you there, an instant sense of comfort wraps around her body. it’s you, her friend. even if this is new and carries its risks, it’s still you. she trusts your guys’ ability to handle this, whether it be shifting your friendship into something different, or choosing to let this go, even if the latter would tear at her more than she’d like to admit. she tries not to think of it and focus on the present moment. as difficult of a task that is for her.

because, no matter what, god, do you feel good. lee’s breath hitches in her throat when you start grinding down on her lap. she lifts her thigh up, pressing it against your crotch, satisfaction running through her when you whimper against her. she does it again, rubbing the hard muscle of it against that spot you’re clearly trying to sate some feeling in. you practically hump against her thigh, lips moving faster, and lee’s mind becomes overrun with the soft, wet noises of your mouth, and the way such an intimate spot of yours is bouncing against her thigh in such a lewd manner.

and you’re so eager, too – something that gets her mind spinning. your tongue keeps lapping at hers, and your mouth moves with a fervent pressure, as though you can’t get enough. not that she can, either. her hands are splayed along your back, gently encouraging you to continue riding her thigh, and she feels like she can do this for hours.

pleasure courses through you at the touch, and you can’t hold in the moan that flies out. you immediately press your lips back to hers, quietly moving them together, your tongues meeting to roll within the sweet opening of her mouth. you lick deeper – you’ve worn this gloss countless times, but on lee’s lips, it’s addictive.

after a few more minutes, you pull away, immediately giggling upon the sight of her pink lip gloss smeared. you rub the pad of your thumb on it. “you know, it’s kind of strange to kiss you while you’re wearing a look you usually wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

she laughs lightly, and you want to drown in the noise of it. “you got your way in putting it on me, and still, somehow find something to complain about.”

“well, you know, there’s an easy solution for that.”

she snorts gently, pulling you in closer. “yeah, I know.”

and with that, you both lose yourself to the taste of strawberries.

{header by: @anitalenia}

[theguildawards]

Hello guildmates!

The Nomination Period is now closed! Below the cut you will find a complete list of all the fanart nominations received for The Guild Awards this term! The mobile-friendly version can also be found in a Google Doc here that has the complete list!

You can find the list of all the fanfiction nominations here!

If you do not see your nomination, or you find issues with the links, please reach out to us as soon as possible!

We are going to give you 2 weeks time to enjoy all the pieces nominated for this term! We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a comment to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!

The voting period will begin November 15th and end November 29th at midnight PST!

In order to be able to vote, you will need to login. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ Google Doc or send us an ask!

Message one of the mods directly: @classysassy9791 @phoenix-before-the-flame @kiliinstinct @ratretro @phoneboxfairy

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this term absolutely wonderful and happy voting!

[please reblog to help spread the love of these amazing creators!]

FANART

Best Action/Adventure

"True Heavenly Body Magic: Sema"  by @robboyu

"Team Natsu" by @astral-fairyy

Best AU/AR

“...and she took my breath away” by @kaleilaart

“the haters can’t stop me” by @captainuranium543

“Cobra’s forms” by @thehiddenrewrite

"Compilations and Requests: 13. Castle"  by @gymjunkie412

"✨witches AU✨"  by @fantazi13

"Happy Gajeel Day" by @gajeeyenjoyer

"gratsu frozen au" by @jiwasaissappy

Best Canon 

“Troubled Trio” by @dravendraws

"Red, The Colour of Life" by @pencilofawesomeness

"For the first time... I'm scared of Natsu's flames..." by @marisashinx

"untitled" by @g0ldenlumiere

Best Angst

“Stay with me” by @acejk-arts

“Happy Rogue Day🖤🐸” by @oryu404

Best Dark

“God’s Gift” by @phoenix-before-the-flame

"Acnologia Eats Irene"  by @love---mandy

"Manipulation upon Manipulation" by @werewolfcave

Best Humor/Parody

“Glowstick Mode Activated” by @castkorb

“comedically jacked baby” by @captainuranium543

“He tried his best😔” by @acnologias-ass

"Ora? Ora!"  by @fantazi13

"Pay back" by @shiiro-arts

"average dragon slayer meetup..." by @philophobic-honeybee

Best Kiss

“Untitled” by @lidiscr

" 🌱🌿" by @gajeelenjoyer

Best Romance

“a soft Lokana” by @artsophiehml

"Nali Commission" by @minnimayhem

Best LGBTQ+ Romance

“Day 1: Cursed” by @mintyfreshi

“Causing problems and sucking face” by @phoenix-before-the-flame

"I know what you tell your friendssssss" by @zqttixx

Best Character

“Lucy in a starry dress” by @firapolemos05

“My first fashion icon was Lucy” by @hyun-illus

"Mavis Vermillion!" by @kuratamashi

Best Duo/Pairing

“my girls <3” by @fourclovermoon

"Fairy Tail Platonic Week: Day 5" by @pencilofawesomeness

"Leave this to us" by @celestialrayna

Best Group Depiction

“Team Natsu” by @ars-de-elysium

“Team Saloon” by @zai-doodles

“It’s nice to have a family” by @classysassy9791

Best Manga Coloring

“💚A SIGH OF RELIEF IN NATURE💚” by @fairy-edits

“FT Big Project” by @fairy-tail-trash

"My Character Design is Peak" by @fairytail-multishipper

‘"Fairy Tail/Lolu Colouring" by @almaween

Best Redraw 

“The Sky Sisters” by @cloudindeed

"Natsu Redraw" by @mintyfreshii

"erza redraw" by @raptortier

Best Overall

“Art Contest” by @pencilequipped

"Like Some Kind of Supernova" by @ziidoodles

"Inktober Day 4: Spell" by @kaleilaart

[sammyvhs]

in between : 1.08.5 — jess’s sister.

They end up staying there for an entire day before you’re able to meet up with them. They rent out a motel for the night when you text Sam that you’ll be there in five hours (it’s midnight) and Dean hasn’t said a word to Sam the entire time.

“C’mon, man, talk. I know you’re angry, alright?”

“I’m not angry, Sam.” Biggest lie of the century, Sam’s sure. “I’m just tired, we both need sleep.”

“I thought you liked her, okay? Why are you so uptight about meeting up with her now?”

“Because you’re not meeting up for coffee, she’s gonna wanna to stay on the road with us.”

“That’s not fair, she has a life—”

“No she doesn’t!” Sam’s eyebrows furrow, both in irritation and confusion. He won’t take dean's talking shit about you, that’s for sure. “That’s not what I mean— she's just, she’s greiving. If that was you… I wouldn’t have a life outside of mourning you either. And she has questions, I could see it the second she found out I was a cop— which by the way, genius, how do we explain the box of fake IDs and trunk full of weapons?”

“Dean, she won’t come on the road with us, trust me. And she’s not grieving anymore—”

“She wasn’t in Stanford, Sam.” Now Sam’s really not sure where this conversation is going, he’s not even certain they should be having a conversation right now. It’s late and they’re both in the car tired as hell.

“How would you know that?”

“When you put her on speaker, when she— when you told her the story about the house—” not the story about Jess, the story about the house. “The wind and her sniffles, she was on a roof.”

Sam’s sure his heart is just stopping at this point but he hopes he can make it get back on track if only to respond to Dean who’s walking away from him. Sam follows, slamming the car’s door behind him too. “Sam, drop it.”

“Are you really going to just walk away? From me? From her?” He says it like it’s supposed to mean something to Dean. Like you’re supposed to mean something to Dean.

How weird is it that you do?

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 1 thoughts

bouncing. bouncing up and down. off of the walls. this episode was SO good. thank you. everyone say thank you, chris carter. thank you for fainting scully, tomato lover scully, doctor scully, crying mulder, plotting mulder, breaking and entering mulder, and for skinner in general.

but back to who i was before yesterday... allow us to return to past juni.

it’s been 800 years… (and by that i mean a week and 2 days have passed since i last watched an episode)

we left off in a pretty… precarious position. so i’m interested to see where things go from here. and hopefully they will be less stressful.

but i’m so happy to be back! i swear once i finish this show i’ll have to quit my job. there will be nothing to get me through LMAO.

it sounds like mulder is going to do some breaking and entering… again, fork spotted in kitchen

how the HELL did he fake his own death… this is giving sherlock!!

god, hearing her voice trembling again as she talks about identifying his body… i did not need to relive this pain!!

so we go back to him crying and watching alien stuff on his couch the night before her big meeting

“an act of faith began with an ineloquent certainty that my journey promised the chance not just of understanding, but of recovery” <- oh… so he admits to the whole thing being about healing…

and he says that he hoped finding the truth would reunite him with his sister, which i KNOW he was thinking all along, but hearing him SAY IT is still devastating; the way he never actually said it aloud before was very impactful, and so is his decision to break that vow of silence

“a belief which i now know to be false and uninformed in the extreme” <- NOOO please do not give up my king… i do not entirely believe this kritshcgau fool

he’s sobbing. he's so pretty when he sobs even if it is sad.

“my folly revealed by facts which illuminate both my arrogance and self-deception” <- oh no… i wanted him to Realize he was being Like That... but not in this way…

so he picks up the gun, saying it would be easier to end this journey if the pain had just been his own… and oh my god......

but then the phone rings… and it’s kritshcgau? he’s trying to explain that he might have been followed after leaving his apartment, but mulder does not give a FUCK LMAO

he wants to know who this man is and if they really gave scully cancer because of him. understandable.

he’s looking around for bugs in his room as he is warned of what’s going on…. and he finds one on the ceiling!! and not the insect kind, the camera kind!!!

mulder finds someone upstairs watching him on camera and burning stuff, but then this mystery guy picks up his shotgun and shoots mulder??? maybe?? it’s hard to tell??? strategic cutoff??

(i assume it’s shotgun guy from before, but frankly i don’t remember what his face looked like, so. listen! a lot can happen in a week and two days)

ah, it feels so nice to be watching the intro again. nature is healing… and by nature i mean me.

scully gets home at midnight, checking her voicemail… she starts to get undressed for bed

“keep going, FBI woman” <- WHAT THE FUCK. 

IT’S MULDER??? she’s soooo GAGGED LMAOOO THE LOOK ON HER FACE???? i’m howling 

MULDER BABY YOU CANNOT JUST SAY THAT WHEN YOU BREAK INTO SOMEONE'S HOUSE. BAD BOY (sprays with water) (sprays with water) (sprays with-

“mulder? what are you doing? why are you sitting in my bedroom in the dark?” <- a VERY reasonable question!!!!

he says there’s a dead guy in his apartment. she’s had ENOUGH of his shenanigans, and he clarifies that he is NOT joking

he had been under surveillance for at least 2 months!!!!! that is freaky omggg… god only knows what they saw him doing

he says that he can’t talk to anyone at the bureau because this whole hoax leads back to the FBI!!!

HOLD ON PAUSE. WHY THE FUCK DOES SCULLY HAVE A POSTER OF DIFFERENT TOMATOES ON HER APARTMENT WALL. HOLD ON I’M FUCKING CRYING. STOP. THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY. oh my gooood. 

she saw a poster of tomatoes and said you know what? this would look FANTASTIC in my apartment. 

god, scully, you truly are the best character of all time. i had no idea you felt so strongly about the humble tomato. 

i cannot complain about anything else that happens in this episode, i’m out of breath from laughing. oh my god. this is gonna get me through so much. tomorrow i’m gonna go to work and a customer is gonna yell at me and i’m just gonna smile thinking about scully’s tomato poster.

i don’t even really remember what was happening. 

okay, right, so the guy whose apartment was above mulder’s, he was destroying records of himself calling the FBI. so who in the FBI was he calling?? and must it be the one who is behind all of this??

“i will not allow this treason to prosper- not if they’ve done this to you” he says <- OKAYYYY!!! protective man is in his protective mode 🔥 you truly do LOVE to see it. it’s almost as good as scully in doctor more but let’s be honest, nothing can ever beat that.

ohhh, he says they can lie back to them!!!! sneaky sneaky man... your fox-like nature is showing

so it was HIS IDEA to have her come and make the ID on his "body" even though it was false!!??

so she was ACTING in that meeting??? WAS SCULLY A THEATRE KID?? because she sold that for real!!!!

he’s going on about how he’s asking her to lie so they can find out who this enemy from within is….

scully runs into skinner after identifying the body, who asks if it’s true that mulder is really dead, and she lies, saying yes. he wants to know if she’s okay, and she pulls the “i don’t know what to say” card, which is entirely understandable.

he asks how she made the ID if he died from a shot to the head, so she says she saw him earlier that morning and he was wearing the same clothes. and there’s a look skinner has into the distance as he tries to determine how and why they would have seen each other before 6:30 am. like you could see the gears turning in his head as if he was saying omg, so they WERE together this whole time. it’s comical, in a way. 

which also leads me to wonder, well i’m no expert in these things, but if you know someone long enough, wouldn’t you recognize them even sans face? by body alone? 

he says he’s very sorry. and when she tries to leave he very sternly calls out “agent scully >:| section chief blah blah blah thinks you’re hiding stuff” (paraphrased obviously)

skinner looks SOOO suspicious of whatever she's plotting lmaooo. and he is right to be!

meanwhile, a very alive mulder is going to the department of defense to scout some advanced research using the dead guy’s ID!! ooooo high stakes, high stakes!!!! he's narrating that if they’re busted, they’re done for good!!

now scully is in the office with the section chief. and he’s talking about someone from the DOD giving her classified information. 

they ask her for information and she’s clearly hiding stuff…. but she identifies kritshcgau!!! omg i didn't think she was going to!!

uh oh… kritshcgau sees mulder in the DOD!! “hey! how’d you get in here?” “through the front door” <- lmao he can never be serious!!

kritshcgau tells mulder to come with him… is this a trap??? 

he’s gagged because that card gives mulder LEVEL FOUR CLEARANCE which i take is a BIG DEAL

yes, it is, because it would give him access to EVERYTHING!! even the thing he wants most of all… the cure for scully’s cancer!! you can see the tears forming in his eyes at the thought… oh man. ohhh mulder…

cancer man has burst into mulder’s apartment… now what are you doing here, you freak???

OHHHH he finds a photo of mulder and samantha on his desk when they were kids... ohhhh... my heart 😭😭😭😭😭

(there’s also some art on the wall of mulder's apartment that i can’t make the details out on. one piece seems to be some sort of pastoral scene with a sheep in it? and the other seems to be abstract. does anyone know what they are? i mean, it’s no tomato poster. but still)

CSM is actually crying seeing this photo and the blood he presumes to be mulder's on the carpet, and i don’t know if he feels genuine sadness or is just heartbroken his decades long alien colonization plan has been thwarted. honestly i do think he’s sad about mulder. he seemed to be in love with both mr. and mrs. mulder tbh, and that can do things to a guy. 

he finds the secret ceiling camera...

scully is in mulder’s office now, calling someone. she pulls out the phone number shotgun guy had been calling!! holly answers it and says she is so sorry to hear about what happened to mulder…. but scully has no time to talk about these things

who is this holly? how does she know scully? are they friends? i need the backstory.

scully… you are so beautiful…. holding this paper and calling holly on the phone, telling her when the calls were placed so she can track down who shotgun man called a million times…..

OH GOD!!! IT’S SKINNER’S EXTENSION!!!

scully looks devastated by this… but just as she begins to process it all, the scientist calls her back about the ice!! she has so much on her mind, please do not make her come look at some damn ice 😭

now, i do not believe that skinner is really behind all this. if he is involved at all, it is because he made that deal with CSM to try and save her... and maybe he was tricked, but he did NOT do it willingly!

kritshcgau and mulder are talking about level four, which apparently a place and not just a classification, and is home to medical facilities!! and vast quantities of DNA storage!! from every person who has ever given blood or tissue since ww2!!! 

damn that’s crazy. how tf would you even store all that?? it’s gotta be a warehouse.

he’s saying this is the hoax into which mulder was drawn…. the US fanned the flames of UFO stories to draw attention away from the whole “mutually assured destruction” thing, which, well, not sure how well that worked out 

OPPENHEIMER MENTIONED‼️him and that damn hat…

(actually still haven’t seen that movie btw. sorry i guess. idk. i’m busy)

KHRUSHCHEV APPEARS ‼️i love to see a familiar face from my textbooks in my TV programs. it's like a crossover event.

kritshcgau says the business of america isn’t business at all, it’s war. well yeah. that is true. and the cold war was an excuse to keep spending military money with no war. which i guess that sort of maybe tracks??

writing off korea and vietnam as just countries squaring off “a few times” is kinda crazy, but his point is: no one used the big bomb.

mulder asks what we are all thinking: what does this have to do with UFOs?

well, let kritshcgau tell you, son. after roswell, the more the government denied about UFOs, the more the public believed them, which was great timing for a country developing supersonic flight

oooo, he claims they almost got caught in korea, as they were accused of using germ warfare. but it’s nothing like what they have now, like what was used for the gulf war, developed in this very building! (said with a very dramatic flourish)

this is a lot of world building at a breakneck pace, and i don’t even know if i’m supposed to believe any of it. maybe some secret top percentage of the government thinks this is true, and the tiny syndicate knows it actually isn’t. that’s my best guess.

the abductions actually did happen, he clarifies, but not by aliens. hmm. a top secret project. well without aliens what's the point?

kritshcgau says it’s about DNA control. but for what purpose???

mulder asks, why make a whole fake alien body for all this then? and kritshcgau says because scully wouldn’t have been alive to disprove the alien body if their timing had been correct!!! so he would have believed it, then they could discredit him!

kritshcgau also says his son coming back sick from the gulf war is his retribution for going along with all of this, and he's thinking there’s a cure for him somewhere in there. well i think the whole gulf war disease and advanced cancer are very different. but maybe they both have secret cures?

off mulder goes, into level 4, taking one last look at kritshcgau, who is immediately apprehended by the DOD for questioning!!!! i feel that this will be the last we see of him.

cutscene to someone racing a horse?? is it bestie well groomed man?? and his many horses??

no!! it’s the department chair guy meeting with CSM!!! CSM is pissed that he didn’t know someone was watching mulder, but the chairman denies it.

he is even MORE pissed about being cut out of this project; “i CREATED mulder” <- okay so that is not putting out the “CSM is actually his father” allegations

chair guy says that mulder is dead

OHHH BUT CSM SAYS “i’ve never underestimated mulder. i still don’t” <- DAMN!!! that’s absolutely wild… i guess it’s important to know your opponent, and how willing they would be to fake their death, and if they could pull it off or not

(CSM angrily leaves)

back to scully at the ice core guy’s lab. and again, oh my god, she’s beautiful. no no no i don’t want to hear about fetal bovine serum. what the hell does that even mean. go back to her beautiful face.

he put the junk from the ice core in the serum... the cells were dividing… into somatic development?? the beginning of a life form. she looks shocked by this, but again. idk what that means!

bleugh, the ice core sample creature... it looks ugly…….

mulder’s snooping about the level 4 area, but the DOD people are behind him, and none of the doors have opened!!! he says that if they find the cure, it will mean for sure that he has believed in a lie from the start. well, i don’t think that’s true necessarily. i mean, the abduction thing could be from an alien-government collaboration, or aliens could still be out there, just not involved with this one thing, you know?

he picks a lock (okay!! crazy skyrim reference) and finds himself in a very dark room. and i am attracted to him. don't worry about it. anyway, whatever he sees seems to shock him???

cut to a TON of CGI aliens on cots LMAO WHAT???? just laying out n about 😭 it had to smell so bad in there… i imagine aliens smell very bad

now this alien closest to him has been lovingly crafted with practical effects, which is much better. so we can see his slime. that is not the part that is better, the slime visibility; its just that practical effects look more visually convincing in such a case

scully is narrating that she had no way to reach him and talk about their discovery of an unidentified life form. which is what happens when you fake your death and go in the secret medical facility of doom.

why is he TOUCHING the nasty alien body???? EUGH!!!!!!

scully is pondering if this thing she found in the serum could be the proof of an alien or the proof of a hoax… a lot of big questions for her to handle here 

he sees some flashing lights deep in the secret corridor, and follows it…. a whole lot of strobe light action going on in here. that stuff doesn't even bother me and i was like damn, that was a lot. i imagine it was much worse for the people who already have issues with bright lights.

she says that maybe this thing in the ice core sample is biologically connected to her cancer?? 

how does this connect to all of those half-alien, half-human people they found back in arizona??!!

beautiful man is looking through the window… 

OH MY GOD HE SEES A BUNCH OF WOMEN BEING SCANNED????? WITH BRIGHT FLASHING LIGHTS?? oh man.... WHAT IS GOING ON???? what are they DOING??

what did they call it before?? inducing mega ovulation?? yikes.

BLEUGH. i paused here as scully was getting blood drawn. i am woozy. how do they fake that for filming??

she needs a southern blot, btw. if that means anything to you. to compare that culture to her own DNA.

belaughhh. she needs the match before 7. he says we can’t do that.

“it’s got to happen. everything in my life depends on it” <- YOU TELL HIM!!!

he has no idea wtf that means but is taken aback by her seriousness

NOW WHY IS SKINNER WATCHING THIS????

OHHH SHE GOES OUT AND CONFRONTS HIM!! “is this more dirty work you’re doing for the DOD??” <- OHHHHH she is NOT HOLDING BACK

he says he has the tests from the body they found in mulder’s apartment on his desk; he knows it isn't him!!! and as she compounds the lies, she compounds the consequences!!!!

OHHHHH THAT WHOLE SCENE WAS SOOOOO JUICY I’M GONNA TEAR OUT MY HAAAAAIR

“all lies lead to the truth, isn’t that right?”

“and what about your lie, agent scully? what does it lead to?”

“the truth- about the men behind what happened to me, about my abduction and the tests, about being exposed to something against my will, about being put on a table and having something implanted in me and then having my memory stolen, only to have it returned along with a disease that i was given.” (ohh she was getting more and more furious as she said this and it was SO good)

“is that your justification? if that what you’re going to tell the joint panel tonight?”

“are you afraid of that?” <- OHHH her mocking and accusatory tone… i need it bottled

“well, considering the dead man in mulder’s apartment was murdered in cold blood and you willfully misidentified him, yes, i am afraid. but i’m only afraid for you” (<- and i do believe him, that he is scared to watch her proceed in this way, almost recklessly, even though it's calculated)

“you’re going to use that against me, aren’t you? you’re going to use me as i’ve been used all along- to preserve the lies”

“where is agent mulder?”

(she walks away)

WOOO baby, that scene was ACTING!! the tight closeups on their face was crazy, and it def could have backfired had they not been so freaking talented. every microexpression spoke a thousand words. i feel energized just watching it!!

jumping up and down. jumping up and down. we are sooooo back.

ohhh she goes into the lab herself to do the testing… in her lab coat… and her goggles… spinning the blood around… i’m faint…

meanwhile, mulder's walking through some weird pipes?? 

AUGH, there’s something IN HER BLOOD WATER, and she says it could be a connection between the conspirators and the cancer in her blood…. well to me it looks like a worm

he finds a new secret door and enters with a hand in his pocket, looking around... tension!!!

she’s ready to blow open this whole conspiracy!! ooooo you'd better stand back and watch it happen!

(they’re narrating all of this because this is a tv show and that is how an audiovisual media works, but i find it funny to imagine them speaking into a voice recorder as they describe their highly illegal activities)

he reaches the end of the mystery space and finds a ton of filing cabinets??? so he’s going to the scully file. he finds hers!!! it is a paper with a bunch of letters on it. which clears up nothing

and he pulls one out for kritschgau’s son as well!!! but it looks like his is blank???

someone from the DOD calls CSM to say that “scott” (mulder with the dead guy's ID card) made his way into the pentagon!! so he’s off to go find him. stay away from him, freak...

scully is rolling some sort of paper after soaking the mixture of stuff from her blood. you’re confused, i’m confused, i’m fascinated as to how this was explained for filming purposes, but here we are

“if my work with agent mulder has tested the foundation of my beliefs, science has been and continues to be my guiding light” <3

“now i’m again relying on its familiar and systematic methods to arrive at a truth- a fact that might explain the fate that has befallen me”

i love that she sees science as familiar and systematic; she really seems to be someone that values those aspects of stability, of knowing what can and cannot be true, and as the world grows more and more complex as they unravel the conspiracies, she turns to what she knows she can rely on. it reminds me in a way about how she values the comfort of a home, of the known, of what can be experienced and understood. she seems to thrive on that sort of knowledge, and i relate to it. something steady to keep her afloat, you know? it also speaks to her rigidity in following the rules. there is order and structure that maintains things, and that can be a great comfort, or a terrible hindrance if it is used for evil. but she, deep down, believes that there still is fundamental good. the rules, the science, the facts, the comfort of them all. it’s a terribly scary world; her biggest fear is what others are capable of. of course there is comfort in the known and the material. i like that a lot.

she hopes to match the virus from the mystery organism to the stuff in her cells, which would mean that her cancer has a cause, even if a cure is unknown! and maybe then they could find a cure to the virus thingy...? is this wishful thinking??

“if science serves me to these ends, it is not lost on me that the tool which i’ve come to depend on absolutely cannot save or protect me, but only bring into focus the darkness that lies ahead” <- hey. hey ouch. pain.

i refuse to consider such a possibility. there are too many more seasons ahead.

back to mulder in the labyrinth, looking for stuff that matches the numbers on her card. ough… why does his hair look so good…

anyway, he finds some sort of liquid

OH scully has done it!!! she’s mixed her DNA with the viral DNA from the cell!! oh, the ice core doctor guy is SHOCKED to learn that she has stuff in her that was also in the CANADIAN ALIEN MOUNTAINS!!

she explains that she believes she was exposed to this material that gave her an illness… and when he asks what kind, all she says is that it cannot be cured. damn. that was very dark.

so mulder finds this little vial of stuff with the specific numbers on it?? in a tiny tiny little bottle?

is it shots shots shots shots time??

he’s leaving from the pentagon, and in a voice over monologue, points out that he is as dependent upon her as she is upon him for the cure!!! as now she must convince the committee of her story!!!

she goes into the meeting room, bracing herself…. and she begins where we began in the last episode!!!! and now we know WHY she is reporting on the illegitimacy of his work!! ah, it is sweet relief to know there was no backstabbing between them

mulder is trying to sneak out… but his card swipe isn’t working…. and the military guys enter!!! 

can he play it cool?? can he beat them in a fight??? well, it FINALLY works, and one thing he can do is run!! and he manages to!!!!

GASP! CSM sees mulder leave, and says to let him go!! he seems almost relieved to see mulder alive and with this mystery liquid

and scully’s doing her oscar-winning performance about identifying a body. an absolute serve.

but skinner comes in just as she says this…. 

her eyes are filled with tears as she pulls out the evidence… (which is just two lines on paper, but you KNOW she is going to explain it)

and she notes that the whole thing was “planned and executed by someone in this room”, seeming to blame it all on skinner… oh my god…

OH MY GOD SHE’S STARTING HER PRESENTATION AND HER NOSE STARTS TO BLEED???

SHE FAINTS?????? and SKINNER CATCHES HER????

she looks at him and says “you…..” before passing back out <- WHAT DID SHE WANT TO SAY TO HIM??!??!?!?!?!

mulder is with the lone gunmen analyzing the mystery liquid…. and it’s water??

hold on, i had to rewatch her fainting and skinner catching her… how he starts to hold her face but stops himself… the way she says “you” so quietly… and then she loses consciousness again… oh my god… to be caught by the person she thinks is killing her… 

and skinner… i don’t believe for a minute that he is behind this. how hurt he must be at her accusations, his terror in watching her march ahead recklessly and lie to these people who would kill her in a heartbeat, and actively ARE killing her, and he was the one that made the deal with the devil to try and get this to stop happening, but what if he’s only advanced the work of the devil and got nothing out of it for himself…? and she doesn't even trust him!!!!

i rewatched that scene 4 times. and it was amazing during each of them.

and mulder… with his water… mystery water in vials… what can it do?? is it really just water?? why tf would the government hide vials of water with incredibly specific numbering deep in the pentagon. i don't buy it.

oh man, we are SOOOOOO back!!!!! i am bouncing off the walls. i cannot WAIT to learn what happens next. the angst here was EXQUISITE.

i’m such a sucker for angst involving mulder/scully and skinner. it’s going to get me EVERY time. over and over and over again. it just punches me in the gut. and all the other stuff punches me in the gut too, but this one has a certain je ne sais quoi factor about it; is it the mentor/mentee relationship of it all?? the way they care about each other but don’t know how to express it?? how they go from being willing to die and to kill for each other and then suddenly that trust is entirely removed, back and forth, back and forth? oh, it’s like CATNIP to me.

scully fainting and him catching is already going to be on my list of favorite moments, i know it, i know myself too well.

AUGHHHHHAUAGGHHHHRAUGGHHHHHAUGHHHHHH i LOVE THIS SHOW see it can be SO GOOD WHEN IT WANTS TO BE!!!!!!!!!

the trickery!! the plotting!! the deception!! the mysteries within mysteries!!! i still think the aliens are real though!! what are they doing with those women?? giving then alien DNA so they can steal their eggs to make alien babies?? what is that oil stuff in mulder?? and where does krycek fit into this??? and again, those half alien things in arizona?? don’t tell me!! don’t tell me because i am excited to learn!!!

YEAHHHHH!!!

[eirist]

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

DEVIL WOMAN

One-shot #: 38

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T (Just some reeeally slight teasing & uh, flirting?)

Note: Late for Halloween but I still want to post something after being absent for long! I missed my babies! Enjoy this quick one-shot and happy Halloween everyone, belatedly!

Summary: His amusement at her expense was obliterated in an instant. And even in the darkened crow’s nest Nami eyes caught the way Zoro’s jaw clenched at that.

“Trick or treat?”

A blank look followed by one eyebrow rising up in question, then the sound of a rather exasperated intake of breath met her question.

“Well?” Nami prompted the figure in front of her to answer. Perched on the opening of the crow’s nest with both arms resting on the metal floor, she patiently (and cheekily) waited.

“Tch,” was the first thing that came out of Zoro’s mouth before it was covered by the rim of the booze bottle he was drinking from.

“None.” He finally uttered out before taking another swig of his drink.

A pout appeared on Nami’s lips. “Spoilsport,” she remarked as she pushed herself up and into the crow’s nest. She glanced around quickly, brows furrowing when she took in the fact that the lights were off and the green-haired man seems to be… just chilling in the dark.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark?” She can’t help but ask, a frown now pulling her lips down.

“Sets the mood.”

“Huh?” It was Nami’s turn to stare at him blankly. Well… his idea of fun does differ from hers. She shouldn’t be surprised at all.

The navigator had just returned on the ship straight from the party that was currently taking place in town center. The island where they docked have this festival where everyone was loitering to and fro, down the streets, wearing costumes of some sorts and knocking on all the house doors saying ‘trick or treat’ while holding a hollowed pumpkin head to be filled  treats and sweets.

Imagine the excitement it brought to their captain, Usopp and Chopper, especially when they found out from Robin that all the houses are obliged to give out confectioneries to those who will come a-knocking.

But Nami was more interested in donning a costume and frolicking in town to hunt for chumps she can easily take advantage of. Just imagine the belis she can rake and take home with her charms and assets in full force.

That was what this trick or treating is for her. Tricking the others so she can treat herself.

Deciding to go all out with a cheeky but sexy devil costume—complete with wings, cute horns, tail and all—she forgo the usual red ensemble and went for a black one for a more mysterious and alluring effect (Robin’s words and Nami definitely agrees), she headed out with her equally enthusiastic crewmates to the town to have a good trick or treating time.

Now she’s back at the Thousand Sunny because her scheme tonight turned out really successful that she had to deposit the bulk of her loot in the treasure chest in her room.

And it’s not even midnight!

She knew Zoro was on guard duty. The ever lazy swordsman had refrained from joining whatever craziness they planned on doing and instead decided for a more boring way to spend the rest of the night.

Namely stay up in the nest, in the dark and drink some booze before conking out.

That’s why Nami decided to climb up the nest to check on him, see if he’s sleeping his stupid ass off while on the job so she can berate him. Heaven knows she needs some sort of stimulant from all that lackluster interactions she has had so she can pick some pockets.

“Hhmm… well you seem to be… enjoying your night?” She asked in an overly sweet yet tinge with sarcasm tone, absolutely loving the way a scowl was starting to appear on Zoro’s face.

“I was,” was his curt reply as he eyed her disdainfully.

Nami’s insides fluttered in pleasure as she chortled. Look how irritated he was with her presence. She smiled in a sickeningly sweet way at him, letting him know that she is aware that he is annoyed that his quiet time was disturb… by her… of all people.

Recently, she had developed this habit of teasing him more than the usual. And not just the kind of teasing that often leads to the two of them bickering and shouting.

It was more… low-key. And feels kind of exclusive in a way that only the two of them knows what is happening. Like a secret language that only the two of them are privy to.

If Nami were to be honest, it’s teasing that is definitely crossing the line of flirting.

And she never passes on the opportunity to test that theory whenever she chance upon it.

Because in a very weird turn of events, Zoro seemed to tolerate it… and was actually reciprocating (this is just her assumption) in his own unrefined way.

Plus it also delights her so much when he gets irked at her antics but he never tries to stop her or even shut her down when they both knew he can.  

You could almost say that her assumptions were right on their marks.

She heard him clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth when she decided to approach him. Zoro was sitting on the nest’s floor, his back against the nest’s wooden bench. His white t-shirt was on the floor, along with his haramaki and katanas. She surmised that he probably did some training earlier and was now enjoying a drink as his downtime.

Just to spite him some more tonight, Nami plopped herself down beside him. She wanted to see what if she was right. See if Zoro will just put up with her presence and not send her down the nest so he could enjoy his solitude.

The black wing of her costume almost poked him in the face accidentally and he swatted it with his hand.

“You could blind someone with that,” he complained as he flicked the wing’s sharp edge.

Nami just gave him a toothy grin before retorting.

“Well I’ve got nothing to worry about,” she gestured at his left eye, childishly sticking her tongue out at him.

Zoro just scoffed. “You just can’t leave me in peace?”

A cackle escaped her.  “Your life is boring as it is. You need me to spice it up.”

He snorted at that before taking a drink again.

Nami waited for a beat and fought a smile from appearing when Zoro did not bother complaining anymore nor and grumble incessantly about her leaving him alone.

“Why are you here in the dark?” She finally asked again, this time really wanting to satisfy her curiosity. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, so close enough that she can feel that distinct coolness his skin takes on after sweating, a sure indication that he did work out while left alone in the ship.

“What’s it to you?” He drawled as he held up the bottle he was drinking from to his eye level, checking to see how much is left before he move to the next one.

“Tch,” Nami sighed. “Don’t be difficult.”

His skin rubbed softly against her when he took a deep breath, the sensation sending sparks

under and over her own, making their way up her neck and Nami fought the urge to shudder when she felt her cheeks grow warm.

“Told you it sets the mood,” he repeated what he said earlier. “For some quiet.”

Nami nodded, understanding his need for it since he meditates after his work-outs.

“Plus,” Zoro tipped the bottle towards the windows in front of them, gesturing for her to take a look. “You can’t appreciate all that with the lights on.”

Nami’s shifted her gaze to where he indicated. Her eyes widened when she realized that the crow’s nest have a great vantage point of the island’s curving end against the star splattered sky.

“Oh,” she murmured softly before pushing herself up to get closer to the window. Kneeling on the bench under it, she took in the breath-taking view before her. There were dozens of tiny lights sprinkled randomly against the island’s shadowy profile. They sparkled and hovered randomly but that didn’t undermine the beauty of the night sky, it heightened it some more.

Everything just looked like thousand sparkling jewels. Glittering. Twinkling.

So that is what Zoro was enjoying alone in the crows’ nest, post-work out and with a drink?

She got to hand it to him… he knows how to really relax his lazy ass.

And also appreciate a beautiful sight. Now that was surprising.

Nami turned her head towards him and watched as he guzzled out the remaining alcohol in his bottle.

Then he suddenly barked out a laugh that Nami thought sounded somehow… condescending.

He grinned amusedly when he saw her looking at him. “Suits you.” He suddenly commented out of the blue.

“What?” Nami narrowed her eyes at him. She raised an eyebrow, already getting a hint that she is not going to like the point he was about to drive home.

“What you’re wearing,” Zoro pointed at her. “It suits you. Horns, tail and all.”

The orange-haired woman stared at him. Really stared at him like he had grown three heads. Did Zoro mean he liked…

Oh drat. He was probably making fun of how the devil costume suited her personality perfectly. Wasn’t he always saying, she’s gonna end up in hell even if he needs to drag her there?

A vein ticked on her forehead. And she seriously contemplated of poking him with her tail or her horn.

But she was still reeling from the tranquil view she was looking at and Nami decided that violence is not the answer tonight.

“Hmmm…” she hummed with a playful flick of her long hair. She deliberately tossed Zoro a seductive look. “Of course it suits me.”

“After all, hell needs to have someone beautiful in it if you’re gonna rule it.” Nami declared sassily before throwing him a kiss.

His amusement at her expense was obliterated in an instant. And even in the darkened crow’s nest Nami eyes caught the way Zoro’s jaw clenched at that.

The navigator smirked. Oh she won this round. Easy, peasy.

But the stubborn swordsman still have one last fight in him.

“You could’ve also gone for a witch,” Zoro tried to recover, folding his arms over his chest, trying to save face and save his pride. “That suits you even better. Witch!” He sneered at the thrown insult he always uses for her.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Nami wagged a finger at him. She got off the bench and sauntered back to him. Her steps light… almost like she’s bouncing in glee.

She stopped just right in front of Zoro, mischievously looking down on him.

“Stop before you hurt yourself some more,” she impishly advised knowing the green-haired man will still try to take her on the battle of wills and words.

Zoro drew back a little and eyed her suspiciously. Nami leaned down, bringing her face closer to his, one finger sliding under his chin, to tilt his head up some more so they could look at each other eye to eye. Her lips almost touching his, he can feel them as they move.

“Besides who better to accompany the king of hell than the devil herself?"

[airenyah]

i'm currently in the room by myself. question now is... can i make it through the entirety of ep3 of 23.5 if i start watching now

[tamaharu]

to meee :3 akechi and sumire arent exactly friends throughout january, (they only get really close several years later) but as a side effect of neither having anything better to do and the two constantly haunting kichijoji i think they inevitably fall together more often than not. ren takes sumire out for darts and shes weirdly better than she was last time (sidebar but the fact that sumire and akechi both mimic your throws but sumire sucks shit at darts too much for it to do any good is so cute) and shes like oh yeah akechi-san has been teaching me. oh wow i got a forty! unaware of the way she just blew rens mind.

[misscrazyfangirl321]

I mean

Now's as good a time as any to figure out my D&D character, I guess?

[sunnywalnut]

No but I'm still looking for the Denny's that is still in the middle of nowhere

having cis guy friends is so funny like youll ask if they wanna hang out and theyll send you to the dark woods

[queenpiranhadon]

"That's what you're going with?"

Nobara looks at Gojo skeptically, and her teacher blinks back at her, confused.

"...What?"

The brunette rolls her eyes, and motions in Gojo's general direction.

"Midnight Lotus, really?" she looks at him, disappointed. "It's clearly a Vanilla Cream day."

Sighing, she looks to Megumi for help. "It's like he wants to get divorced at this rate."

Satoru watches the interaction between the two, scandalized. He wants to what?!

"Now, now, Kugisaki, I'm offended you think so little of me! My wife loves me far too much to leave me over some cologne choice. Plus, Midnight Lotus smells awesome!"

Nobara looks at him scrutinizingly before lifting up her fingers to make two Ls as if to look at him through a frame.

"It's giving...paintbrush." She says, squinting disapprovingly, looking at Yuji for backup.

He nods sagely, replying with full seriousness. "He's low-key cooked if he thinks this is what's gonna seal the deal for him."

Satoru looks at them confused, already feeling old from his lack of understanding of their slang and yet he understood enough.

"Hey! You know she's my wife, right? The deal was sealed 7 years ago."

"I still question her judgement back then." Nobara mutters, eyeing her teacher's childish behavior. "But no matter! We're going out to buy you better stuff instead of the crap you wear."

Despite Satoru's protests, Nobara's dragging him out the classroom, leaving a oblivious Yuji to follow after them (he's just happy to be here) and a disgruntled and reluctant Megumi who trails behind the three (he is not happy to be here.)

Satoru does admit, his student's blatant insults towards his ability to be romantic does take a hit at his ego a bit, but he knows deep down he could get them to stop whenever he wants to (he doesn’t).

He can't help but feel his heart warm underneath all the complaints and groans, because he knows that they love him.

And they love you too.

Which is what Satoru tells himself while Nobara and Yuji drag him around the mall draining thousands of dollars from his wallet (it's okay, it's just pocket money).

He knows it'll be worth in it the end though, when he goes home to recount his day and hear that gorgeous laugh of yours.

God, he can't wait to have kids of your own some day

A/N: We all need a little more dad gojo in our lives

[inknopewetrust]

𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬

summary: after facing embarrassment from Aegon’s intrusive visit, Sylvi helps Aemond find attraction with someone closer to his own age. [aemond x fem!reader] [wc: 5.0k]

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), hand job, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism, aemond’s abuse by her is not tolerated here 🙂‍↔️, HotD themes.

quick links: masterlist | gif credit: @seaside-storm

The sounds of the Silk Streets in the early hours of morning were not for the faint of heart.

You had grown accustomed to them over the years of your residency—the noises, the people, the actions and wants of those who seek the services of an establishment like the one Sylvi ran.

It was not your proudest achievement; not one you’d shout from the rooftops but one that kept the food on the table.

It wasn’t hard. It was sex. And you learned to enjoy it with what little freedom was left when the coins were tossed and your body was aching.

Between your fingers one of those coins twirled absentmindedly as the curtains of your bedding swished at the retreat of your latest payer. There were seldom benefits from the occupation you took up yet the pay, after years of understanding and learning, had grown exponentially.

And the coin that tossed between your fingertips was enough to put food on the table for a few days; enough to buy a dress or to get passage to another town.

It was a reward for service you did not mind.

Sylvi had taught you what you needed to know. How to move, how to pleasure. She helped you determine what felt good and what would feel unpleasant to both you and a partner.

But she had her transgressions far beyond the positive.

One of them stalked the building in a fume.

The laughter that had propagated such anger left an hour ago but the remnants of the jesters stuck heavy in the air. They opened curtains and made spectacles of the givers and the receivers; they stared too long at you in the nude to make you feel at ease.

In the distance, you heard your name called yet you continued to flip the coin.

Aegon, the King as he was now, was no friend to the servants of pleasure. You consider yourself fortunate that he never sought you—as desirable, as insatiable, as you were.

It saved you from a world of hurt from a man as fickle as he was.

Although his reputation preceded him and the ire that still held itself like a cloud over the house was from his head, his brother, Aemond, was a welcome guest.

Though he too was someone you had not laid with either.

He had never lingered far from the woman of the house.

“Y/N.”

Said woman pulled back the curtain of your bed roughly. Against the pillows and covered in a robe the color of a midnight black, you lazily gazed at her.

“Did you not hear me call?” Sylvi asked impatiently. Her irritation was stinging.

“I was busy, Madame,” you responded loosely.

You arched your back and with it came cracks of relaxation. It felt good after being holed up in your bed for two hours.

“You know how Dornish men are,” you informed her. “That one was quite… spirited at this late hour.”

“What happy news for you,” she panned before nodding her head in the direction of her usual hideaway. “I seek a favor.”

“A favor?” You questioned with a mewl.

“It is for the one we do not speak of.”

Sylvi’s eyes gave you a warning. Aemond Targaryen… the one who fumed.

She had never asked for a favor regarding the Prince before and it intrigued you. It would fall a lie if you spoke of never having imagined what a man like him would be like in your bed.

He was a magnificent creature.

Tall and carved from the marble of a great sculptor, Prince Aemond was no stranger to the gazes of the pleasure folk. The way their eyes shined and pupils grew large, you were surely one of them.

It did not hurt that he was no more than the age you were now and had not yet taken a wife.

It was silly, however, to imagine a whore being the wife of a Prince. He had barely sparred you glances when he visited.

Dreams. That is all that it would remain.

“And you seek me?” You questioned, dropping the coin on your clothed stomach.

“I have a proposition for you,” she clarified. “One that will pay you well for your service.”

“The receiver is willing?”

“Yes.”

Her alcove was far nicer than yours.

Lavish with silken pillows and warm candlelight, it was near romantic if you forgot the circumstances of her actions. It smelt of lavender and oils; the kind she wanted throughout the establishment but could only create the corner she wanted here.

It was the first time you had been invited into the space.

Sylvi walked around you as you stood just inside of the curtains. She held the tassel of her robe between her fingertips, swinging it gently.

“We do not speak on what happens here, understood?” She asked you.

“I understand, Madame.” She nodded her head in approval.

“Good,” Sylvi affirmed.

On a ledge behind the bed, she grabbed a small sack of coins and tossed them to you. It landed with a jingle at the edge of the bed.

With delicate hands you grasped the strings and pulled open the bag to see coins worth the entire building. You dropped it, looking at Sylvi with wide eyes.

“T-This… this is far too much,” you scoffed.

“It is what the Prince offered,” she spoke as if the currency was nothing more than what the common folk paid.

There had to have been 10 gold dragons inside of the pouch.

The total jostled you.

You had long understood that the job you took on was ill-inspired. The money you had made was reasonable and never made you feel ashamed to take it.

But this… the currency enough to buy twenty horses; enough to buy a home or sail to Essos with no intention of returning… it did bring shame.

“And for such a currency what does the Prince expect of me? I will not be humiliated—“

“I have no intention of humiliating you.”

The voice cut through glass.

Behind you, with the curtains of Sylvi’s bedding swaying to a gentle close the man of her proposition appeared. You turned around with your mouth agape from the inability to finish your thoughts and as many mortals had before, your mind ceased its thoughts.

He was ethereal, otherworldly.

And he was fully nude.

You stuttered stupidly to greet him.

“P-Prince Aemond,” you managed. “I apologize. I did not intend to speak out of turn.”

He hummed, observing you as you did him. You straightened your back at the sensation. His eye piercing and cold—in a room basked in warmth he was not the bringer of it. Aemond let his mind roam the faults and perfections of your body and needn’t say what it was aloud.

He trusted Sylvi in a twisted way. If she said you were right for the job, surely she would not steer him wrong.

“So,” Aemond’s eye flicked to Sylvi. You took the opportunity to observe the blue gleam of the sapphire that filled the vacancy of his other.

“This is she?”

She introduced your name to him and his eye met yours.

“And the terms have been accepted?”

“They have, My Prince,” you spoke without hesitation.

“Aemond,” he clarified. “You are to call me Aemond.”

You tried his name on your lips and it was breathless. As his eye stalked your body, he took the initiative to take the step forward. The understanding of your willingness emboldened him to bury his brother’s words.

He was seldom humiliated but the reasons he flocked to Sylvi were different from the ones he sought from a willing companion: to release and forget.

Aemond approached you with soft steps and it was suddenly difficult to remember how to breathe. You held your breath, waiting, as his arm extended to you and his fingers brushed the fabric of your robe along your collarbones. He traced the skin with his fingers, along the edges of your robe as the delicate lacing became rough under his fingertips.

He was testing the waters.

You remained focused on his face as your heart rate began to increase. Every thump faster aligned with the draws of his fingers; long and nimble, softer than the men you were used to on days as long as these.

He was fluid and natural. There was no scared boy inside of him, but the hardened man he wanted the world to see.

Sylvi rounded her bed and you were reminded that she was still there as she looked at you.

“Touch her, Aemond. Touch her as you do in your dreams.”

At her command, his hand stilled. You half-thought her demands had sent him into a spiral of regret. Perhaps he would apologize for his lustful responses, scurrying away and back into the pit of dragon’s he came from.

Instead of listening to her in haste, he asked you a question.

“Where are you from?”

You were taken aback but remained stoic. Your job was to put on a performance no matter how surprising his words felt. No patron had ever asked you about, well, you.

You were nothing more than an orifice for their wanton needs.

“Honeyholt,” you responded quietly.

“Not far from Oldtown,” he commented, tracing the lace but never touching your skin. His hand grazed it until he reached the knot of your robe.

You shook your head, “no.”

“Did you enjoy it there?”

“It was far less exciting than King’s Landing.”

“May I?”

You had never had a patron ask permission before either.

You felt like a girl being dotted on. It was a strange feeling, one that had turned so drastically from a mere thirty minutes before—being treated like a doll to be thrown from one to be pampered… it was not what you were expecting.

“You may, Aemond.”

His finite hands worked the knot swiftly to let the robe fall open. When it did, he let it sit there for a moment as he took in the shape of your breasts underneath the fabric, he could see the mound of your pussy, and the way you stood completely still in wait.

He felt powerful when he normally felt meek.

Sylvi had been right. He did need this.

Aemond could feel the woman’s eyes behind him and whether they were on himself or you he would not know, but he felt them heavy.

He took his hands and pushed the fabric from your shoulders. It pooled around your feet in one push.

You breathed in deeply, nipples pebbling at the coolness now meeting you.

It was obvious, however, that your mere body was not enough to rouse him to hardness. If you spent anymore time watching him as he watched you, the sun would be up and his duties would call him away.

“Touch him,” Sylvi instructed you. “Do not be afraid.”

“I am not afraid,” you responded to her but did not look at her. She took a seat on her bed as you moved to stand toe to toe with Aemond.

“May I touch you?” You asked in the same voice of permission he had given you.

“You may,” and he said your name with a weight hearty on his tongue.

With his permission you reached for his right hand and placed it on your breast. His timidness was beginning to show through the hesitancy of his actions. The slow grip on your breast slowly became more comforting the more time he took.

“It’s alright,” you whispered as though Sylvi was not there and you were alone with the Prince. “You can touch me.”

You felt more pressure from his palm. Drawing your own hand to his chest, you began to feel the outlines of his muscles. Aemond was lean and fit, skinny but not sickly.

Each muscle was tense under your touch. He shuttered a breath through his nose and your hand recoiled in the slightest.

“I apologize,” he spoke as lowly as you had before. “I have not been with another in a long time.”

He had not been with another other than Sylvie in a long time, he meant.

“I can be slow, My Prince.”

“Aemond,” he corrected you.

“Aemond,” you said sheepishly in your forgetfulness.

“I do not need you to be slow.”

You nodded in reply and placed your hand back on his chest. You followed it down until you began to broach the zone in which your talents needed to please not only him, but Sylvi also.

If you were a disappointment, there would be no clothes nor food nor horses nor castles in your future.

“Then I will not go slow, Aemond.”

He hummed, intaking a breath as your fingers gently, kindly, fluttered over his cock. You looked up at him with your eyes hooded, eyelashes batting and he thought for an instance that no woman had ever looked at him that way.

Sylvi hadn’t and it awoke something with him.

You began to work him with your hand as he let his hand fall from your breast and brought it up to the back of your neck. He massaged the space briefly before holding onto you with a tighter grip.

In your hand he began to show himself to you. Growing in length, you licked your lips in anticipation and swallowed the bug that formed in your throat.

“Aemond,” you questioned as you stepped closer. You parted your legs to stand between one of his and he stopped you only by moving his other hand to grip your chin.

He could feel his heart beating out of his chest.

The feel of your hand on his cock was enthralling. So smooth and soft, gripping him in hardness at the right moments but never suffocating and never hurting.

“Yes?” He was near breathless.

You took his response with no words but a shifting of your hand. You left his shaft and snaked your hand to his balls, cupping them the best you could. His staggered breath brought a small, sly smile to your lips as he gripped your chin tighter and his eye narrowed.

“Would—“ in his grip, you could barely get words out. He changed his positioning to hold both sides of your neck. “Would you like to see what I can do with my mouth?”

“It would be a waste to not,” he grunted when your hand put pressure on his balls.

He released your neck and watched as you sank to your knees obediently. In your position, he was reminded of the good and pious that prayed to the Seven. Your eyes were so innocent but your mind wicked; your hands were pleasurable and your words soothing.

It was a change and it was working for him.

You sat with your knees apart, feet against your backside and heels digging into the flesh. You ran your hands down your body as he watched you delicately before running your hands up his legs and resting on his upper thighs.

Placing a soft kiss on one of his thighs, you worked yourself toward his member as it beckoned you. You grasped the base of his cock with your hand, placing a sweet kiss on his ever-swollen head.

You let saliva gather at the front of your mouth and let it dribble out and onto his cock before taking him with your mouth.

Aemond was heavy on your tongue. His warmth was sending electricity from your mouth to your core; you felt the throb of want begin to pool at your center. He took both of his hands and placed them at the top of your head but did not push. He did not force and he allowed you to escape when you needed to breathe.

But he was in another world.

Never had he been taken in such a way but his mind liked playing tricks. It was not his first and when he thought back on the times he had been pleasured as such it was not as enjoyable.

Yet, he forgot her stares and focused on you. A woman closer to his own age and one that had a system of morality of questions and seeking answers in regards to pleasure.

You took his extended gratitude and kindness and returned it with your own.

With every pull of your mouth, you filled the space with what your mouth couldn’t take with your hand. You squeezed at his base and it made him see stars. In your vision you could see him watching if you looked up.

How his blue gem gleamed at you…

As you turned your head and used your salvia and some of his pre-cum that began to leak to wet his shaft, you moaned at the sensation. It sent you tingling, drawing a hand away from his thigh; you brought it between your legs and began to rub circles on your clit.

The wetness gathered quickly. You shut your eyes as the two parts of you, mouth and cunt, were being used to your own delight. As you opened them again, Sylvi caught the corner of your eye.

She rubbed herself over her clothes and you halted. Hand retreating from your body in an instant; the salvia that had gathered landed on your thigh with a splat and your hand loosened what held onto him. Aemond let one of his hands fall loosely beside him as he looked up and kept focus on the wall in front of him.

He needed to change. He had asked her for this change for his own sake and it was time for it to happen.

“Sylvi,” Aemond muttered absentmindedly.

“Yes?” She prompted as if he were to ask her to join the two of you. Her tone made you nervous but he never let his other hand fall from your head.

She went to remove her own robe but he stopped her with a turn of his head.

“Leave us,” he commanded.

Slyvi paused her hands against her body, dejected at Aemond while her eyes bounced between the two of you.

You, your hand still on his cock and your lips barely kissing it. Him, with his hand on your head and mind completely taken by you.

“Aem—“

“Do I have to repeat myself?” He asked her calmly. His heart beat so fast at his strength. Never did he believe he’d be able to breakaway.

“No,” she rose from the bed and made for the entrance.

Your breath was hot on his dick when she stopped again. For one moment Sylvi waited for Aemond to call her back but she was met with silence; a heavy weight of agony as she stood there and received no reply.

It was her retreating footsteps that brought relief to your bones.

Aemond’s other hand returned to your head.

“I did not wish for her to watch us,” he informed you.

You looked up at him from your spot on the floor. Along your chin were remnants of spit or spent, he wasn’t certain. All the same, he took a thumb and gathered it from you. He brought the thumb to his mouth and sucked the gathering from it.

“I did not either.”

“Good,” he hummed. “Now get on the bed.”

You needn’t be asked twice.

Aemond refrained from touching you as you rose from the floor and sat on the bed. Once you were seated, he leaned down to grab your ankle and pushed back on your shoulder to lay down. The message was received quickly and you laid back and brought your other leg bent beside you.

You were completely at his mercy. Your walls clenched around nothing when he ran his hands over the skin of your legs. You extended your arms above your head; feeling the soft silk pillows and coolness of the sheets below your body. The sensations were overwhelming.

“I’ve never been with a woman like you before,” Aemond’s hands roamed further, pulling you down on the bed to meet his body but not entering you.

“And what kind of woman am I?” You sighed contently.

“A kind woman.”

“How do you know me to be kind?” You asked him.

One of his hands feathered the skin between your leg and lips. They grazed it again and this time, running his fingers through where you wanted him most. A selfless breath left your lips.

“Your eyes are kind,” he bent down to lay a kiss on your knee. “There are not many kind eyes here.”

He stuck one finger in, followed by another. Your hand reached for the pillows quickly, back arching at the sensation. You once thought his fingers to be long and nimble but they were much more. You felt them so clearly and cleanly.

They reached within your walls; touching the plushy skin as it grew in wetness and emitted slick sounds of pleasure.

Once he felt you were ready, he wanted to test his third finger.

“Gods,” you stuttered out as his third finger slipped in and it became so quick. He was running away with himself as the sight of your pleasure overtakes him.

“F-fuck.”

The words continued to fall from your lips as he picked up his pace. His fingers moved in and out, in and out, and then a rapid succession of moving them up and down. Your body trembled at the noises. The wet, squelching sound of a mess too far gone.

He may not have been as experienced as other men, but he had ruined you for all in the future.

“That’s it,” he whispered against your thigh again. He bent down to watch you writhe at his actions. “What do you need from me? Hm?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you panted. “Just you Aemond.”

“Just me?” He murmured. “What of my cock? Do you want to feel me inside of you? Finish inside of you?”

The idea sent you spiraling. You imagined how his cock would feel longer and thicker than his fingers. How it would plead against the spot to make you come undone.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I want to know what it feels like.”

He removed his fingers to grasp his length in his hands. Aemond pumped himself briefly before lining his head up with your entrance, gripping your hip as you stayed splayed before him.

And then he slid in.

Seldom could explain the moment but you had seen stars. You saw the galaxies spoken of by the Maester’s and worlds beyond your own. There was no feeling but him filling you so fully and totally.

He shut his eye. The blue sapphire still glittering in the light; Aemond saw peace grow with a gasp. Everything in his mind went blank with white noise. All he could hear was himself as he sheathed himself inside of your warmth with a simple push. He filled you until he could no longer.

It was sinful to feel so good.

He held himself there for a minute. You wanted to sit up, hold his body close to yours and feel his muscles contract under your touch but stay as pliant as possible.

Against your convictions, Aemond leaned forward and cupped your cheek with his hands. It was entirely intimate for a man you had just met.

But his touch lingered lifetimes. It was as if you knew him forever, and this singular moment was one of plenty.

Stilled inside of you, his thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“May I kiss you?” He asked promptly.

You moved your hips in a roll to urge him to move, wrapping your legs around his torso and arms around his shoulders. His lips brushed against yours.

He pulled his hips back and slowly slid himself back in.

You nodded your head the best you could against the sheets and he ticked at you. His nose nudged yours, your lips begging to be touched but he neglected them.

“No,” he cooed. “I need you to say it. Say you want me to kiss you.” Again, he slid out, back in and your hips met him there.

“Kiss me, Aemond. Kiss me, please.”

Pushing his cock deeper into you, your mouth fell agape and he used the opportunity to capture his lips with your own, swallowing your moan and losing himself in your intimacy.

He never thought a woman like you could make him feel so selfless.

Aemond knew nothing of you but felt everything. He needn’t understand the pieces of you to feel the rewards of lust and anger spilling out of him.

His mouth is so warm and wet. Aemond’s tongue danced with yours as your whimpers became gasps with the jacking of his hips into you. Your hands are bruising on his shoulders; grip tight and breaking had you been a stronger woman.

Aemond broke his kisses and moved his hand to your neck. His thumb put pressure on the bottom of your chin, pushing your head backwards and sending your spine arching.

If he took you any further, you’d split yourself in too. You mewled in pleasure and he let out a low chuckle, eyes low and observing as he pounded his cock in your pussy faster.

“Oh,” one of your arms shot up above your head and he took his other hand, the one not on your neck, and intertwined your hands together.

“Do the others fuck you like this?” He hummed.

“No,” you called into the air. “Not everyone is as good as you, My Prince.”

As your eyes met his, you felt your heart exploding. No one would ever hold you like this again. No one would know you in the secrets you shared here—so open and viewable yet shroud in the comfort of veils.

You like this. He knows you do. And fuck, he does too.

“You like being held like a worthy lady,” Aemond purred. “Like you’re not a whore.”

“You like being strong when they underestimate you.”

His hand around your throat tightened but didn’t suffocate you. Aemond’s fingers that intertwined with your own stayed together as he changed his speed. Slowing down and drawing his dick out to the tip and stuffing you again, he snickered.

“You are not weak.”

“No,” he narrowed his eye. “I’m not.”

“In here,” you groaned. “In here you can be anyone, Aemond.”

He knew it to be true.

Instead of responding with a smart retort or a scathing comment that would rival one of his brothers, he nodded his head and let it fall in the crook of your neck.

Within you, his solemn romanticism built a fire. It was aching; clenching your walls around him as your breaths became more heated and laced with a finish. His skin on yours glistened with sweat the more strenuous your meetings became.

You were holding onto a thin string when he lifted his head again and planted a kiss on your lips.

So personal, so intimate from what you were used to.

“I-“ you barely got a syllable out before your body shook with your orgasm hitting you like a brick through a glass window. Aemond removed his hand on your neck to grip your back as your body lifted from the sheets.

Your cunt had his cock in a vice. So tight and smooth with your wetness, he felt the stuttering sensation of his own building in a quick anticipation and as the shaking in your legs began to lessen, he pulled out of your pussy without warning and pumped himself before spilling his spent on your stomach.

Your eyes saw stars on the ceiling of the brothel. Aemond kissed between your breath as his fingers swiped through his cum. He drew a line from your stomach, between your breasts, and to your lips. You took his fingers covered in him into your mouth and licked him clean.

Once there was nothing left, his wet fingers palmed your breast with a sigh. You untangled your combined fingers and gingerly outlined the bottom of his scar.

He leaned into your touch absentmindedly before eagerly kissing you again.

Aemond would never confess why he did it.

It was an urge he had never felt; built in the emotions of his mind as he was wrapped in your kind embrace and away from the world that had created the cruelness that lived with him. You were not cruel. You were good and a sanctimonious creature at his alter of wavering faith.

You revived him.

And he barely knew you.

When he pulled away, you brushed a hand over his disheveled hair and smiled.

The feeling within him was foreign but it was hungry. He hungered for the bubbled nature of want that brewed in his bones. Aemond sought the feel of your hands on him and the way you settled in his motions without complaint or verbally assuring him what he was doing was “good for him,” when in reality, he knew it was not.

So in turn, when you smiled, so did he.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you.

[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.

[redcherrykook]

── ‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ midnight snack - somnophilia request

────୨ৎ────

content: Jk eating yn out while she sleeps, doggy, JK is pussy whipped, obsessed with his gf, praise, dirty talk, established relationship with idol JK

note from cherry: consent is key with any kink, their consent is established pre- scenario.

────୨ৎ────

It's literally 1 am, where is Jeon Jungkook?

Working, as he always is when it gets late,

That's something you never have to ponder, where is your hard working idol boyfriend at this time of night? Working in his studio,

That is conveniently in your shared place

And even if it got late on shoots or recordings,

You have his life360, besides, he's way too clingy to not text you every couple hours

The question where the hell he is still remains, he said it wouldn't get late today and promised to finally finish watching singles inferno

Whatever, you thought, you will make him regret getting lost in his work,

Stripping yourself of all of your clothes, down to the very last little piece, before laying down in bed for a peaceful sleep without your boyfriend, knowing you'd notice when he's done working

He would never not want to touch you when you give him the 'go' to do so, even in your sleep, the 'go' being sleeping without panties

Only this time, he wouldn't be met with only panties missing

2:33 am,

He's done working on his beats, pushing the chair away with a sigh and slithering into the quiet bedroom, expecting an upset pouty angel waiting for him,

"oh fuck.. " he curses under his breath, the sight of his peacefully sleeping, naked, sprawled out girlfriend waking up his cock

He immediately rids himself of his shirt and sweats, getting on the bed on his hands and knees,

Before he starts worshipping the naked beauty in his bed, he takes a moment to really look,

Appreciate what he gets to call 'his'

His soft, Slender fingers caress the squish of your cheek planted against the pillow, body turned sight ways,

He runs it down to your sweet lips, smiling to himself with ragged breath, his other hand moving through your slightly messed up hair,

His body crawls behind you now, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his fully erect, boxer covered cock against your ass

"hm.. fuck" his groans are rough and quiet, determined to play with you a little longer and not ruining your little slumber

Both of his hands are fondleing your breasts, squeezing and groping them while rutting his hips into you from behind, slow but firm pushes against the flesh of your ass, the friction from his boxers making his tip feel extremly sensitive,

One of his hands run down your stomach before resting between your thighs, caressing and squeezing them, then, almost hesitantly drawing out a finger to play with your clit, rubbing small circles and letting his finger trace up and down the sensitive flesh

It's now that you start slowly stirring, but he stops his movements, cooing you back to sleep with soft strokes to your head and arms

The sight of your thighs rubbing together when your breathing slows down again makes him feel heavy, knowing you need him, need him to fuck you awake

Determined to satisfy your craving, his body moves back down, pushing your thighs up and together with his arms before taking both his hands to grope your cheeks, speeding them apart to reveal your wet cunt, glistening for him only

"pretty" he breathes out, licking over his lip piercing briefly,

Without a second thought his tongue starts lapping up your jucies, like a straved man and wiithout mercy for your sleep he starts sucking on your clit, nose rubbing your pussy whenever he nestles his face in, his skilled tongue drawing between your folds, pushing into your sopping entrance

He groans when he starts feeling your body wake up, moaning and reaching back to tug on his hair,

"nghm kook!" Your little whimpers turn into full blown cries of pleasure when he starts grunting and mumbling against your cunt,

"So sweet, this good little pussy" delivering a few spanks to your clit, you clench around him and unleash your arousal on his greedy tongue,

He moans, tasting every last bit and slowly withdrawing from your heat,

Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, kissing your neck and shoulder,

"You're so beautiful, my angel, i need to feel your pussy so so bad, please angel" he whines against your skin, sucking and leaving little bruises in his tracks, biting down on your silky skin with precision

"You want me kook?" your teasing doesn't stop at words, one of your hands os pumping his cock very slowly, making sure to run your thumb over his leaking, sensitive tip

He responds with low moans, biting down on your shoulder harder,

"Fuck yes i need you so much, need this tight little cunt on my cock, wanna fuck you so good, worship that little pussy" he mutters into your skin, hands tightly gripping at your waist, pushing his fingers in with care and need,

"fuck me then kook, make it up to me for working so late" you hum, teasingly ghosting your lips over his own, swollen ones

"I will, so sorry my little angel, gonna make it better" he whispers into your ear, finding the sensitive spot behind it, placing a chaste kiss on it

Not in the mood to hold the throbbing of his cock up even longer, he flips you around, knees pressed into the materess, one arm wraps around your waist to pull your lower body upward, deliciously arching your back and lifting your ass up in the air, right in front of his hips

Pushing into you with one go, both his hands tighten on the softness of your hips, pulling you against him even closer

"So perfect, my perfect angel, pussy so good.. all mine"

You love this about him, about how he mindlessly rambles these praises while ramming his cock into you, pushing every inch into you from behind

His cock hits that soft spot within your cunt, making you whimper into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets

"You sound so good baby fuck, so good 'round me.. mine, mine all mine" his voice becomes more ragged with each word and thrust into you, forming a unity with your own hasty moans,

"Jungkook! nghmm please! Gonna cum- gonna cum kook"

He groans, slapping your ass harshly, which only makes you whimper louder

"Cum for me pretty, come on my cock angel, it's all yours, i'm all yours" his hips increase speed, hands bulging into your hips with every rut, his cock pulsating inside your warm pussy, sucking him in so good

You clench around him, letting him now you're mid orgasm and he only makes it better by releasing his cum into you, pushing it in with slow thrusts while telling you how good you feel,

Your body plops down limp onto the bed, breathing unsteady and whining when he pulls out,

he just chuckles lightly, kissing your cheek and going off to get a wet cloth,

"Kook?" You whisper while he cleans up the mess between your legs,

"hmm baby?" with a tired sparkle in his eyes he smiles up to you, tossing the cloth and pulling your naked body into his equally naked chest

"Wanna sleep with it inside please"

Jungkook is taken back by your innocent tone and the little pout on your face,

He's quick to kiss it away,

"Is that your way of asking for round two?"

little smirk forming on his face when you nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and chasing after the sweet passion in his kisses

[prythianpages]

But the Worms | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Azriel is woken up by your daughter in the middle of the night to answer some of her questions.

warnings: fluff, dad Az

word count: 943

a/n: Just a short little fic that can be read as a stand alone. This was inspired by a scene from Bob's Burgers lol.

Rain pattered against the window steadily, accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. Every so often, the sky would flare with a jagged streak of lightning, briefly illuminating the room with a cold, blue light before plunging it back into shadow. The storm was a familiar, comforting backdrop to Azriel’s slumber.

But his shadows, ever vigilant, stirred with a whisper of unease.

Azriel’s eyes fluttered open, drawn by the shift in his shadows. That’s when he heard them. The faint, hurried sound of small footsteps. His shadows fluttered toward the door as they sensed the hesitant shuffle against the wooden floor.

He didn't need his shadows to tell him who was on the other side. Had it been his first born, he'd never hear the steps as she loved to sneak up on him,. The door would've been open abruptly with no hesitation whatsoever but it's been years since she last had a nightmare. A nightmare she didn't welcome, at least.

That was not the case tonight. It was his second-born. Sweet little Alora, who, true to her name, should be dreaming of unicorns and rainbows as she loved to recount to him every morning, rather than being awake.

His gaze flickered to you. While Azriel was a light sleeper, you were a heavy sleeper and truth be told, you were sound asleep, back turned toward him. A shadow tenderly caressed your back before he shifted his attention back to the door. He was already sitting up in the bed, blinking away the sleep or at least trying when the door opened quietly, muted with the help of his shadows.

Alora stood at the door. Her hair, the exact shade of yours, was disheveled, the bangs she cut herself last week splayed over her forehead awkwardly. A rite of passage, you had called it, reminding him that your first born had done the same.

Her eyes, the exact shade of his, were wide and glistening, and there was a pout on her face.

Azriel’s chest tightened at the sight, wanting nothing more than to soothe whatever troubled her, despite his fatigue. He extended his arms out, and Alora ran right into them, her small frame immediately enveloped by his.

Cradling her to his chest, he pushed her bangs back and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“No. I haven’t slept at all,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Azriel frowned, glancing at the clock. It was well past midnight, and his eyes were begging for sleep, lulled by the rain falling outside. “Is it the storm?”

Alora placed her hands on his chest, pushing herself up slightly. She spared a glance to your sleeping form before leaning in closer to her father, careful not to wake you with her voice. Though, Azriel doubted you'd wake at all.

Her hazel eyes, so innocent and pure, stared into his own. “Do you think worms have dreams too?”

Azriel's heart softened further. Her worries were so small, so wonderfully trivial compared to the burdens he had carried as a child.

“I’m sure they dream,” he murmured, gently pulling his daughter's head back to his chest, wishing for her to always have such simple worries. He also hoped she’d be content with his answer and finally drift off to sleep herself.

“But what do they dream?”

“The same things you do.” He replied, trying to stifle a yawn. He snuck a glance at you, still oblivious to your daughter’s insatiable curiosity.

“Do they get nightmares too?” 

Azriel fought back his groan. He loved his daughters deeply and strongly. He would go through all ends of the world for them. Any other time, he would entertain this conversation fully, but it was late, and Alora should be fast asleep like her sister. 

“Mel says worms come out when it storms so that we don’t hear their cries.”

Speak of the little devil herself. Mel was sure to get an earful from him. Tomorrow morning, or rather, in a couple of hours. Azriel took a deep breath, trying to muster the energy to explain, his body aching for rest.

Azriel could hear the thoughts swirling through her mind as she continued. “Why would they cry? Is it because of the bad dreams?”

“Don’t listen to your sister,” he said gently, running a hand through Alora’s tousled hair.

“But you told me to listen to her yesterday morning.”

“I did,” Azriel replied with a slight grimace, regretting that decision immensely at this very moment. Granted, he had said that after Mel told Lor to stop riling up Sprinkles, her pet scorpion. “But that’s different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” he said, his voice a mix of patience and weariness.

“But the worms–”

“The worms don’t have nightmares and they come out during storms because they love the rain. Now, go to sleep. Please.”

Alora let out a small gasp, her hand losing its tension against his chest. “You promise?”

“Yes.” Azriel replied quickly, not certain what exactly he was promising. He'd deal with it later.

“Okay.”

When he finally felt her body relax in his arms, he let out a breath of relief. He held her tighter in his arms, shifting them to face in your direction before settling Alora between you both. He didn’t have the energy to take her back to her bed.

He gladly gave in to the heaviness of his eyelids, his eyes closing shut and ready to embrace sleep under the comfort of the rain once more--

"Daddy?"

He didn't bother opening his eyes. "Yes?"

"I love you."

His lips tugged up into a smile. "I love you too, my sweets."

Alora snuggled closer to him, tiny hands grasping onto his larger one and placing it over her face. She always found comfort in his touch, despite the scars that marred his hands. It was something that never failed to make his chest swell with warmth. Along with the way both his daughters always looked up to him, eyes full of affection and admiration.

His thumb caressed her cheek, soothing her as his shadows settled back into their corner of the room, curling into the bed Alora had gotten them for Solstice this year.

For centuries, his shadows had slept among other shadows, usually underneath the bed or in the corners of rooms. But Alora had felt bad for them one night, and when shopping for Solstice this year, she had asked you to take her to the pet store and picked out the softest bed for Azriel’s shadows.

Though his shadows had never complained or shown any interest in comfier sleeping habits, they had vibrated with excitement at the sight of the gift. Now, they slept there every night, happy and content, snuggling amongst one another and curling into a ball.

As his thoughts began to blur and drift, the world around him softened, the edges of his awareness becoming fuzzy and indistinct. Now that he knew your daughter was okay and her curiosity satiated, he could go back to sleep.

His breathing slowed, deep and even, matching the gentle rise and fall of your own breath. Just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep–

“Daddy?”

He could barely manage a grunt in response.

“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”

Oh, this was definitely your daughter.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[torasplanet]

❝𝘿𝘼𝘿’𝙎 𝙂𝙁.ᐟ❞

D. WAYNE + BRUCE’S GF!F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; damian doesn’t particularly like his dad’s girlfriend but soon, she ends up being his favorite family member.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; fluff, platonic obvi, age gap between reader and bruce (mid 20s and early 40s), rude damian lmao and skin tone not mentioned

It wasn’t necessarily a secret that Damian did not like you. You were Bruce’s girlfriend and that wasn’t something that would’ve made him not like you but instead it was the age gap that made him not like you. I mean you were in your twenties and his father was in his early forties, you can’t expect him to not see anything wrong with that. It didn’t really surprise you per se because although the others never hated you for it, they did tell Bruce it was weird for him to date you.

They would always make sure to tell you that they meant no offense to you and that you were a sweetheart but still said it was weird. So Damian not liking you for that reason was not surprising, especially considering the number of people that told you how uhm… let's say ‘stuck-up’ he was before you went to meet him for the first time. Of course, you were still bummed out but it wasn’t a surprise. You tried everything to get Damian to like you but nothing really made him budge.

He’d still make the same snarky remarks, rude comments and sometimes it’d make you a little upset but not all the time. “Dude chill.” “You don’t have to be rude damian…” “Don’t talk to her like that.” They’d all tell him even though you brushed it off and would tell them you didn’t mind. For someone who was just like Damian at first, Jason was very unhappy whenever damian would make his comments.

But maybe it was just because the two of you have never had a time to actually talk before, you thought. And you would prove to be right one late night at the manor.

Damian walked down the long stairs only in his pajamas with a yawn escaping his throat. He had been awoken to a rumbling stomach just begging for a midnight snack so he was going to fulfill that need but he did not expect to see you in the kitchen when he got there.

You sat at the long table very obviously crying your eyes out. Damian didn’t say anything and only stood at the other end of the table staring at you while you sniffled. He wondered why you seemed so upset, Bruce was home from patrol. He hadn’t said anything rude to you all day, actually, he’d barely seen you today. Maybe that was just because he had school but still.

Damian had no idea what was going on. He did not like being in the dark.

With the floorboard uncharacteristically creaking under his footstep, his presence was known to you. Your head snapped up immediately and he was able to see your red eyes more clearly. “Oh, hi…Is everything okay?” You asked, trying to go back to your cheerful mood, but he saw through your facade.

“Everything is alright. I suppose I should be asking you that question.” The younger wayne said walking closer to you and undeniably, it made you quite nervous. “I’m okay, just…uhm.” You muttered not able to come up with a lie quick enough which made Damian quite suspicious of you.

He eyed you up and down before making eye contact once again “Excuse me for asking this but, are you pregnant?” Damian asked out of pure curiosity. In his mind this was the only logical answer.

I mean you were crying in the kitchen at one in the morning and got extremely nervous when your boyfriend's son walked in. Not exactly pointing to pregnancy but the hints are there. “No!” You whisper-shouted out of embarrassment.

“Then why are you upset?” Damian asked now standing by your side and you knew you couldn’t lie to him. He was too smart for that. “I-I just had a hard day, it’s nothing.” Your response only earned blinks from the boy. “You stay home all day. What possible could be hard about that?”” He questioned and it made you feel a bit worse but you didn’t show it. Tim told you not to show weakness to the “demon child” and he was probably right about that.

You glanced side to side awkwardly as you tried to find your words. “Erm…Damian that’s not exactly true but okay. It was mainly about the other people I was around instead of the day itself.” You told him and Damian plopped down on the chair to your left now intrigued with this conversation. Or maybe he was listening to tire himself out you know…because of boredom.

“I was just out buying food for Jason because he’s sick and…he doesn’t exactly have edible things in his fridge.” Damian nodded at your sentence as he observed your expressions whilst you talked. “Graysons place has a better selection.” The boy muttered under his breath before urging you to continue your talking.

“And there were these women in the store talking about me like I wasn’t even in there…saying awful things about me not really loving bruce.” You admitted. It was weird to be confining your feelings in a twelve year old but Damian was hardly a child, he was probably smarter than you. So it wasn’t all that horrible.

You made eye contact with him for the first time in a while and Damian’s cold expression softened at how tears were brimming at your lash line all over again. You were really beat up about this. “I know I shouldn’t because people say it all the time but it’s not like that. If I was with Bruce for the money, I would’ve quit my job a long time ago. It doesn’t even pay that much anyway.” Damian didn’t even know you had a job.

He was rarely home with school and patrol but when he was, you were always there too so he just assumed you stayed at home all day. Damian didn’t really know much about you up until now. “But I really do love Bruce.” He hummed in response not knowing how else to reply.

You became aware of the situation and grew stiff and awkward. “Uhm sorry…I’m keeping you up.” Your words were mumbles as you stood from your chair prepared to leave the room and let Damian be alone. You were probably a bother to him.

Then you were stopped by his voice “Not yet.” You turned around and he was now standing by the fridge and pointed up at the cabinets that contained the breakfast items. “I need you to get cereal for me.” Damian requested and you smiled at him before obliging and grabbing his favorite cereal and handing it to him.

“Goodnight Damian.” Damian hummed in response as he watched you start to walk away “…Have a good night [Y/n].” He told you, making you grin. It wasn’t much but it meant a lot to you.

Little did you know, that was the start of it all. After that night, Damian stuck to you like a koala but not as if he was hugging you but everywhere you went, he was right next to you. Everyone (including you and Alfred) thought it was super weird. It was literally overnight that Damian started to take a liking to you.

You may have thought it was weird but you enjoyed it. It made you feel like you were truly part of the family. Damian only took a liking to you because he saw the real you, not the cheerful one that put on an act for cameras and paparazzi. You had feelings and he realized that he was hurting them for no reason.

I mean you weren’t like the others. You didn’t treat him like a child, you treated him just how he wanted to be. Not babied and not having his intelligence insulted because of his age, you treated him with the respect he deserved and saw his points of arguments like not needing school. He liked that and now that he had realized he was hurting you by saying the same things those women said, he felt bad. So he accepted you, a little too accepting for everyone else’s comfort.

You thought it was weird but you enjoyed it. It truly made you feel like part of the family because now everyone liked you. Damian seemed to like you a bit more than the others though mainly your presence.

“Oh hey, we’re about to watch a movie. Come sit.” Dick said, inviting Damian over as he reached the living room. A frown formed on his lips at the spot next to Bruce that was empty. You weren’t here.

His gaze traveled to his father “Where is [Y/n]?” Damian asked, tilting his head slightly. “In the room. She wanted to catch up on her reading.” Bruce said and without a word, Damian started to make his way back up the stairs and toward you and Bruce’s shared bedroom.

Opening the door, there you were sitting on the bed reading but your focus turned to him when you heard him approach the bed “It’s movie night.” Damian spoke before you even asked what he wanted “Oh I wanted to finish reading this book.” You replied carelessly but Damian did not like that answer.

“But I want you there…you protect me from Grayson’s popcorn when he gets excited.” Damian said, growing a bit flustered mid-sentence after noticing that he had just aired his feelings out. You looked at him as you sighed “I can still read my book, right?” You questioned and Damian nodded as he reached out to grab your wrist.

You allowed him after putting a bookmark in your book. Damian dragged you down stairs, book in hand and everything while you tried not to trip and fall. “You actually went and got her?” Jason asked as you and Damian sat side-by-side next to Bruce while Tim sat at your feet on the floor.

Jason wasn’t here often, honestly he only came here for Alfred and your cooking and to spend time with you. You were probably the only one he could actually stand for longer than five minutes. “You didn’t have to bother her.” Stephanie said from one of the armchairs but you waved your hands in defense of the boy who did not care whatsoever.

“I don’t mind.” “So mind your business Todd.” Jason scowled at Damian’s rude comment after your kind one that wasn’t even directed toward him but stayed quiet and just continued to watch the movie. You continued to read through your book with Damian sometimes leaning over to catch a glimpse at what you were reading.

Movies that Dick picked out didn’t particularly interest him that much. He could usually fish out the plot twists from miles away and it was the same with books but more often than not, books were more interesting.

Halfway through the movie, Damian got intrigued in a certain page he had read through “What book is this?” He asked, blinking up at you with his large green eyes and you thought they were so adorable but you didn’t say anything. “Gone girl, I think you’d like it actually. I found it in the library.” You whispered to him but somehow, with his dog-like hearing, Dick overheard the conversation.

“Oo! Gone girl? I love that movie, we should watch it next.” The oldest boy said and Cassandra and Tim were quick to shush him and he did so but not without rolling his eyes. “It’s a movie?” Damian whispered to you, who nodded. Bruce almost cooed at how cute the two of you were.

Damian considered sticking around for the rest of the night to watch this movie but when less than twenty minutes passed and popcorn went flying everywhere, he was questioning that idea. “Holy shit! Why would he do that!?” Dick shouted as everyone complained about the popcorn in their hair and on their clothes.

Damian, of course, had nothing on him because you shielded his body “How could you be so careless? You got popcorn all over her.” Damian said snarkily while crossing his arms against his chest. Dick rolled his eyes “Oh please, you just started liking her. I was the first to like her!” Dick shouted in defense, making you and Bruce sigh.

Somehow, always, movie nights ended up in arguments that almost always involved Dick. “Whatever! You still put this filth on her.” The young boy cursed while the others merely groaned in annoyance. “Uh, can you guys keep watching the movie? I’m still trying to read.” You said a bit quietly trying not to get in the middle of their argument.

It happened every time. You’d get in the middle and they’d start asking you questions which you’d have no answer to because you didn’t want it to look like you were playing favorites. “Oops. Sorry.” Dick apologized and Damian nodded in agreement. “I’ll be quiet too.” He muttered before beginning to watch the movie again.

You sighed in relief as you leaned against Bruce’s arm. He thought it was so cute how the two of you were finally getting along, it made him so happy. Until you started backing him up even more on stupid shit like the topic of school and patrol.

A few days after movie night, Bruce was getting ready to walk out of the door for work when he spotted you and Damian on the couch still in your pajamas watching Criminal Minds while eating toast. “Um, what are you two doing?” He asked, buttoning his suit as the two of you looked up at your boyfriend.

“We’re watching Criminal Minds father. It is quite an interesting show.” Damian said, shrugging. Initially, he had planned to just jump straight into training after you told him he could stay home but you asked him to watch at least one episode and that episode turned into almost half a season watched.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before pointing at Damian “You need to be at school.” He then pointed at you, “And you need to be at work.” Bruce finished earning an irritated sigh from his son and a loud whine from his girlfriend.

“Damian doesn’t need school and the shop is closed for today.” You said sitting up while Damian continued to lay down while humming in agreement. “Okay well Damian still needs to be at school.” The older man said fairly tired with how Damian upright refused to go to school everyday and now you were helping him.

“No need. I think I’m well off on sex education, slope and how to understand The Lord of the Flies.” Damian said passive-aggressively which made you chuckle a bit but when Bruce gave you a slight glare, you shut your mouth and looked away.

Bruce sighed once more and you grabbed Damian by his shoulders and hugged him close to you. Damian still was not used to your affectionate side but he could live with being hugged by you now. “Please! Brucie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t train too much and Criminal Minds could help him on his patrol and stuff!” You shouted and Damian nodded in agreement as usual despite not exactly agreeing with you.

There wasn’t anything on Criminal Minds that he hadn’t already learned except for maybe the occasional Spencer Reid comment but it’d make his case of staying home better. “Okay fine.” He said putting his hand on the doorknob but then he looked back at you and pointed “I’ll deal with you later.” You looked away awkwardly feeling a bit embarrassed but wished him a goodbye as he left the Manor.

Damian scoffed and continued to eat his cereal “He’s annoying.” He muttered and you looked at him with a shocked face but he only looked confused. “Hm? You say that all the time. I remember when you said that about Kent.” Damian responded and now it was your turn to look confused with a small laugh.

“Which one?” You asked and Damian hummed “You said it to his face.” Yet again you seemed confused and Damian smiled. He loved how mean you could be sometimes “Clark.” Damian responded plainly. You laughed, making him chuckle a bit.

It seemed that life was a bit more pleasant for him because of his and your alliance. He can’t wait for when you start tagging in his arguments with Dick and Todd while you were just happy that your boyfriend’s son finally likes you!

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!