Cooked

Your Touch

Mizu x Reader

Summary: Mizu is touchstarved. That’s it, that’s the entire thing.

A/n: Next story will hopefully be “Caged Bird” part 3, then I will finally post one of the asks that I took an interest in.

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You looked at Mizu, her dark hair pulled up into the high bun it was always in. The loose curl that she always kept out no matter what the occasion, lightly bounced as she walked by, focused on whatever task she had to finish.

You watched and looked on with curiosity, you wondered if she had ever done a different hairstyle on her hair before. You thought a braid might compliment her features, or even half up, you had many ideas and suddenly you were determined to try them.

Well that would require Mizu’s permission first.

“Hey Mizu.” You began, drawing out each syllable of her name to quickly pass on the hint that what you were going to say wasn’t serious.

She paused for a moment, putting down a large box and wiping her brow before looking at you. Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly, her curiosity was piqued despite her not saying a word.

“Have you ever worn your hair differently?” You asked. She simply stared at you for a moment before shrugging,

“A few different times. I just can't really afford to when I’m doing ‘samurai’ things.” She said in air quotes. She never enjoyed calling herself a samurai, for one thing most of the time she purely acted out of the name of revenge not honor. Another, she’s a woman.

Personally, you didn’t really care about the rules of a samurai, you respected them and their ambition but the ones you had met in the past were more focused on their honor over anything else. It had only hit you when you had met Taigen, he was so obsessed with reclaiming his honor like a disowned child that he practically abandoned his engagement. You didn’t understand it, what good is honor if it can be taken away so quickly.

You looked up at Mizu who seemed to be deep in thought. You figured she was just thinking of the different styles she had done before, but her face held a certain sadness as she thought. You began to realize that there was a story attached to the topic of hairstyles that you knew better than to bring up.

“Have you ever braided your hair?” You asked, regaining her attention. She thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. It wasn’t a common style for the time so you weren’t exactly that surprised.

“Would you like to try one?” You asked. You had definitely piqued her interest, her eyes shifted ever so slightly wider as you patted the spot in front of you.

She obliged, sitting down and facing away from you, her legs in a crossed manner with her hands peacefully resting on her knees.

She almost seemed a bit eager to try the hairstyle which honestly excited you a bit, it’s not often Mizu openly gets excited about something, especially with her very subtle expressions.

She sat before you, her slim figure not too far away from you as you gently reached up and grabbed the hair tie that seemed to hold Mizu’s entire hairstyle together. You’d never understand how she did it with so much hair, it never made sense to you. Her sleek dark hair unfolded, a healthy glow could be seen throughout it, she took care of it despite it being up all the time.

With one hand you ever so gently began to rake through her hair, making sure there were no knots that might get in the way of the process. Because of this, you noticed Mizu stiffen for a moment, a shiver could visibly be seen going throughout her body.

Having seen this your hand jerked back, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. Before you could say anything she turned her head just enough to look at you from over her shoulder and said in a low tone,

“Keep going.”

You paused for a moment as her words sunk in. The way she spoke to you was no different than any other time and yet for some reason… it felt different. You decided to pay no mind to it as your hand returned to her head, slowly dragging it through and sending shivers throughout Mizu’s body yet again.

Despite this, she sat calmly making no other movements other than the occasional twitch here and there as your hands glided through her hair. Having her hair done was a pleasure she never thought twice about, but the way you so delicately pulled at her hair, twisting it and shaping it as if she was some piece of art, it made her feel cared for in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

You carefully separated her hair, overlapping the pieces in a rhythmic manner, cautiously pulling the groups of hair but never hard enough to hurt. It didn’t take long before you had finished, you tied it all together with the hair tie that she used before, letting go of your work.

“How does it look?” She asked, now turning to fully face you. There was almost some sort of innocence that shone through Mizu's expression, one that seemed to say she genuinely cared how she looked. It was kind of sweet to see her usually stoic and harsh exterior break for a moment, it showed you who Mizu really was even if it was for only a few seconds.

You had seen Mizu with her hair down before, maybe not often, but you had seen it. Something was missing.

You stared at her for a moment, a confused look riddled your face before it hit you, the curl.

You gently reached your hand up towards Mizu’s face, one finger looping around the curl that had been hidden away underneath all of the other pieces of hair. Not expecting this, Mizu froze, letting you do what you needed to do but also not knowing how to react otherwise.

Once you had fixed the curl, you moved back a bit to reassess your work. You smiled, finally happy with how it looked.

“Perfect.” You said, proud of the work you had accomplished. Mizu was happy enough just taking your word for it but she was still curious to see how she looked. She drew her sword partially, only just enough to be able to see at least a little bit of her reflection on it. From what she could see, she truly didn’t mind the look.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, patiently waiting for her answer. You watched as a very small smile graced her features as she said,

“It looks good.”

She put her blade away, turning to look back at you as she brushed a few loose strands out her face.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so… gentle.” She admitted quite plainly. Her hands rested on her lap as she thought back to a time when someone else had done her hair.

“Anytime my mother did my hair, gentle didn’t seem to be a word in her vocabulary.” She joked, a melancholic yet reminiscent look made its way onto her face as she thought back to the many times her mother had scolded her for looking to feminine.

“Being rough will only get you so far.” You responded, not really realizing how that sounded. It earned a small snicker from Mizu but it still went over your head regardless. It had got you thinking, the blue eyed woman constantly trained, having faced the several hardships in life at such a young age that no one would even dream of facing. She had to be tough in every way possible if she had any hope of surviving.

But you were determined to show her, in your own way, that you can let your guard down every once in a while.

“Let me see your hands.” You ordered pretty out of nowhere.

“What?” Mizu responded, clearly taken by surprise by your sudden demand.

“Let me see your hands.” You repeated, putting one of yours out and gesturing for her to place hers on top.

Her eyebrows wrinkled with uncertainty, having not a singular clue what you were planning to do, but she still did what you told her to anyway. Her confused expression remained as she placed her hand on yours, her palm facing towards the sky. With your free hand you gently traced the lines on Mizushand, slowly going over each callous that you could see. Just as you had expected, her hands were coarse and rough, tense from constant overworking and pressure, or maybe they were tense because she wasn’t used to the feeling of someone else, you couldn’t tell.

At first she didn’t know what to do except watch your hands.

“What are you doing?” She asked, confused what the point of this was.

You continued to trace lines and pointless circles around her hand, occasionally gently massaging different points.

“You’re really tense.” You pointed out, “I figured this might help you relax a bit.”

Mizu sat still for a bit as you continued, still not easing up in the slightest. Having her hair done was one thing, she had it done before so she knew at least somewhat how to react, but this was something different. You looked up at her, noticing her unbroken stare before smiling at her.

“Relax.” You calmly instructed her.

She closed her eyes, eventually relaxing into the feeling of your touch just like she had done before. She had truly forgotten what it felt like to be touched in a way that didn’t result in a bruise or broken rib.

You continued your motions, occasionally putting slight pressure on different areas. However in one area you had put just a bit too much pressure, resulting in a noise that sounded like a moan escape from Mizu. You immediately stopped, taking your hand away as you apologized,

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

You looked up at her, ready to continue apologizing but you were met with a serious yet… almost affectionate gaze as she said,

“Don’t stop,” She began, her voice was quiet and relaxed so at least you knew your work was paying off.

“It feels nice.”

There it was, that feeling again. You averted your gaze, not able to handle making eye contact with her while also processing your very wild feelings at that moment. One thing about Mizu was she never truly realized just how attractive she was, she always deemed herself a demon or a monster because that’s what she was taught to believe.

But you saw past that and because of that, things that Mizu didn’t even think twice about doing, would nearly send you into a coma just because it was her doing it.

She had no idea the power she had over you just from a few simple words, and you had no idea the power you had over her just from a simple gentle touch.

You continued on like she had told you, smoothing out the tension in her hand the best you could without any prior training on the subject. Eventually you had switched over to her other hand which was somehow more coarse than the first. You couldn’t help but admire the amount of time and strength that went into forming such things.

As you continued, you could tell Mizu was refraining from making any noises. In all honesty, it was nothing you hadn’t heard before, she’s been in pain enough times around you for you to get used to her whimpering and groaning.

Except this time was different, usually the noises she made were from a place of pain and discomfort.

However, this time, they seemed to come from a place of pleasure.

Caused by you.

“It’s okay.” You began, refusing to look up at her. “The more you let out the more I know I’m doing the right thing.” You encouraged, and sure one could say it was for a selfish reason but really who could blame you.

You could hear her continue to refrain, but over a small amount of time you could hear her a little bit more. Your heart raced as you continued, the act you were partaking in was nowhere near as sensual as it sounded and yet it still felt so intimate. If anything that’s all you wanted it to be, but that was a line you’d dare not cross, at least not yet.

A little more time had passed, you had eased out all the tension you felt in her hands and let go of her. Almost immediately she began to miss your warm and gentle embrace, having returned to her harsh and cold reality. But really, it wasn’t as cold as she had thought because you were still there, right in front of her, looking at her as if she was the only human to have ever existed.

“There now, do you feel better?” You asked quietly, a bit sheepish considering the amount of thoughts that had crossed your mind that you would never say out loud.

Mizu rubbed her hand absentmindedly, her face seemed a bit glazed over like she had been so lost in her thoughts and she wasn’t ready to be a normal person again. Once she had finally, fully, snapped back to reality she nodded.

“Thanks.” Was all she said before you two sat in silence. The tension was practically thick enough to cut through but neither of you wanted to be the one to take that leap, not without knowing for certain it was one they could even take in the first place. Up until now, sure you two had been close, but you had never gotten so close physically. You wanted to, she wanted to, but neither of you wanted to own up to it. She claimed she didn’t need distractions, and you claimed it was a feeling that would flutter away just as quickly as it came.

Well you were both wrong.

You both sat there, not looking at each other, not saying anything before you decided to gain the courage to say,

“Mizu?” You practically whispered. She looked towards you, finally taking her attention off of her hand which she continued to rub, trying to emulate the feeling of your touch but to no avail.

“Yes?” She responded. You very slowly inched a bit closer to her, not trying to make your idea or intention too obvious but she already had a few possibilities in mind on how this might unfold.

None of which she was complaining about.

“Can I… can I touch you again?”

That was all you asked. Sure you had literally just put down her hand but it was the fact that you had even asked that sent the same shivers down Mizu’s spine. She went quiet for a moment, not knowing what to respond with.

She truly had never been asked for permission to do anything before, not in this regard at least, and it shocked her a bit.

It somehow became the most intimate question you could’ve asked.

She nodded, not saying a word as she continued to look at you. It was as if she was trying to memorize your features, as if she was trying to burn them into her retinas so she'd never forget.

Your hand very carefully went towards her, cupping the side of her face as if it would break with too much pressure. She slowly began to lean into your touch, the warm feeling returning quickly as she let her harsh exterior down yet again, feeling uncommonly safe because of your touch. From this position she looked towards you, her hand making its way up to your face, and brushing a few hairs out of the way before asking,

“Can I kiss you?”

Her voice was raspy and low, just above a whisper. She waited patiently for your answer as you both sat in silence before you nodded in response. With that, her hand that had brushed the hairs from your face, slowly made its way to the back of your neck as you both leaned forward and-

“Hey, I found this place that sells food down the road and I- Oh. You’re here.” Taigen had barged into the room, not a singular care in the world as he looked at Mizu with his usual disdain. By this point you had already jumped back from her, being startled by Taigens sudden presence while in such an intimate moment.

With a cold glare Mizu looked towards Taigen,

“What do you want?” She spat. She could get over him annoyingly asking for a duel every now and then but ruining this one moment for her was too far. She finally felt safe and warm in someone else’s embrace and the same man who ruined everything else for her had to come back and fuck something else up.

Before either of them could say any other ‘kind’ words to each other you very quickly made your way to exit the room, not wanting to think about the awkward moment any more than you’d have to.

“I’m going to go… find some things for Ringo. I’ll see you later Mizu, bye Taigen.” You said, very quickly making your way out of the room, leaving both Mizu and Taigen together. Mizu had watched you leave with a certain sadness that you could only really see in her eyes, the rest of her face remained as stoic as ever as she turned back to Taigen.

“New hair style? You look oddly feminine wi-“ The man began, pointing towards her still braided hair.

“Say another word and you’ll lose an arm.” She threatened.

“Noted.”

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

I need ghis MAN

i feel like sylus is a very attentive lover — more than people like to give him credit for. i like to think that he reads you like an open book and knows each and every one of your habits inside out. particularly when you get anxious and overthink. he can tell by your face alone when you're pulled away from him by your thoughts and your mind. so he simply gives the space between your brows a light tap with his index finger, plants a tender kiss there, lets his lips linger and murmurs, "come back to me."

Sometimes it feels like everyone around me is speaking in a secret language and I'm the only one who doesn't know it.

Can I please have the LaDS boys reacting to the reader speaking in another language (I won't choose a specific language) with a male friend and the boys are jealous because what do you mean he can understand you and I can't 🙄

hrmm i guess sylus is included now LMAO

Zayne isn't going to be too immature about it. He knows that you're not monolingual and it's not like it bothers him or anything. He just wants to feel included so he'll probably slowly learn the language on the downtime so he doesn't have to bother you for a translation.

Xavier will just quietly stand menacingly behind you. He puts his chin on your shoulder, trying to see if he can decipher any sort of meaning from the words you're saying and if he can't figure it out he'll ask you to translate right there. He doesn't care if it disrupts the flow of the conversation - he just wants you to tell him what's happening so he doesn't feel left out.

Rafayel, resident polyglot, gets upset when he realises you're speaking a language he doesn't. It's even worse if it's not a part of any language families that he does know because he can't even try to figure out what you're saying. He'll simmer quietly, glaring daggers at you. Once your conversation is done he'll ask for an intensive play by play, refusing to let you skimp out on any detail.

Sylus also seems like he could be a polyglot. If he doesn't understand the language he'll let you converse as much as you like, discreetly keeping his eye on you as he waits for you to finish. He doesn't say anything to you about the fact that you dared to speak without him being able to understand but you get the sense that the next time your friend comes over you're going to just use a communal language.

Real

rather have a headache from not eating, than feeling bloated from binging

Scent

Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel’s name a lot lmfao not beta read.

Minors DNI.

Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.

Keep reading

Ah isn't loss of appetite the biggest blessing?

• • • •

Perhaps I feel faint, perhaps I need the focus today.

Oh but I can't.

My head is spinning, reeling, and I can't stop thinking.

But at least it gives me a break from eating.

• • • •

18 hrs of work and nonstop thought.

Tonight I will stare in the mirror, as I always do.

Exhausted.

• • • •

But euphoric. I'll trace my bones, admire my stomach's concave. Know I'm in control.

At least of this.

• • • •

More work.

Then in 24 hrs the scale will show my progress.

Tell me in thin, worthy, beautiful... right.

• • • •

Oh to be perfect, see my flaws melt away.

To finally feel proud.

Crying.

🫢

between the blades of grass

when sylus, the strongest warrior of the grasslands, chooses you as his mate, you're forced to consummate your union in front of the entire clan.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with very little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.4k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, public sex, voyeurism, outdoor sex, people watching you have sex, missionary, cumming inside, medieval bedding ceremony vibes, NOT continuation off grassland romance (though inspired by it), NOT based off any real world clan, completely made up clan & traditions, implied virgin mc, implied first time sex, use of y/n, dom!sylus, dirty talking sylus, talks of marriage, mating, and some political play.

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3 | twitter inspo 1 | twitter inspo 2

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hello! short fic since i was so heavily inspired by the new sylus memory. this is NOT a continuation of ‘grassland romance’ though it is heavily inspired by the overall theme of the memory. i began furiously writing this when they released the trailer oof i was so hooked. inspired by @/yuchanpaws_ quote tweet linked above!

please note that the clan and traditions mentioned in this fic are completely fictional. however the tradition is based loosely off of the “bedding ceremony” that medieval europe used to partake in!

i will NOT be writing fics for the new xavier or raf memories! i may write for zayne but that is up in the air. i only wrote for this one because i was super inspired by the memory and the fan discourse about it on twitter and tumblr <3

this was actually so fun to write. i might find myself writing more bite sized fics like this, that inspire me rather than feel like me forcing myself to finish them :’) unfortunately that probably means less xavier and raf from now on and only zayne & sylus…

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

You can hardly hear Sylus through the deafening chants and cheers of the people around you. Never in a million years did you think you’d be caught in this situation. The Mating Rite.

Actually, it was customary for the most esteemed members of your clan to partake in the Mating Rite, those of the Elder Tribunal, the high ranking commanders of the various military societies, really any of the most respected members of the community had to participate in the Rite. To prove their bond with their chosen to the rest of the clan, committing themselves not only to each other, but to the clan. 

But you didn’t fall into any of those criteria. While you were under the strict and often suffocating protection of the clan’s most skilled warriors, for reasons they’d refused to share with you, you weren’t someone of the necessary stature needed to be required to partake in the Rite. 

But Sylus was.

The youngest warrior to be sworn into the clan’s most elite and ruthless military society. The youngest to be considered for a commanding position in the militia, a position he turned down many times. He was the most formidable and respected gladiator of your entire clan, and even that of the opposing clans of the Grasslands. 

There wasn’t a soul in all the Grasslands that didn’t know his name. You either envied him, feared him, or wanted to share a bed with him. Maybe all of the above.

You knew the day would come when Sylus would have to choose a suitable partner, and the thought of it inexplicably sent painful pangs down your very soul. The fear of losing him, when you didn’t even have him, was so utterly heartbreaking, you didn’t know how you’d bear it when the time came.

And yet…Sylus wanted you. He chose you.

You’d never forget the way he sought you out after returning from a mission he told you little of, under the massive acacia you’d often lain under, with the silver haired man in question holding you dearly. How you’d flown into his arms upon seeing his distinct form approaching you, his strong hands gripping your waist as he spun you around, whispering into your ear about how he’d missed you in his time away. 

Or when he threw you over his shoulder, his fingers gripping the underside of your rear, a clear mission in his mind as he traversed the Grasslands to the Elder Tribunal’s square. 

“I need to show them I already have a lover.”

The Elder Tribunal had been pushing Sylus’s hand for years now, wanting to see their most esteemed warrior mated, securing his future progeny to that of the clan. He’d been able to hold them off for as long as possible, his responsibility as a warrior and as your key protector keeping him far too busy to find a suitable mate. 

You weren’t exactly sure what changed, what exactly had caused Sylus’s hand to be forced. What had caused him to finally give in, choosing a partner to share the rest of his life with. 

In any case, you found yourself under Sylus’s very naked body, his thick erection nestled firmly inside your quivering walls. He was naked from the waist down, but still wore the traditional garb of the warrior ensemble’s chest harness, the bone embellishments rattling against the coarse leather. There were countless eyes around you, watching the way Sylus slid in and out of you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sylus did his best to use his much larger body to shield yours from the hungry stares surrounding you, wanting to take away even the tiniest bit of your obvious discomfort. You were entirely naked, as was required of women partaking in the Rite, bare and vulnerable before the many spectators. And while the thought of showing off your magnificent naked body off to others excited Sylus, as he knew that it was a sight others could behold but never have like he could, he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. 

The warm air breezed against your naked body, only a canvas ceiling protecting you from the elements. It was a tent of sorts, without any walls, to give the crowd the best view of the Mating Rite. Of you and Sylus. 

Even though the air is warm, the, almost muggy, Grassland breeze against your bare skin makes you shiver.

“I’m sorry,” he grits, his jaw slack as you sucked him in so tightly, trying to focus on comforting you and not the way you nearly choked the orgasm out of him, “I’m sorry. I never wanted our first time…to be like this.”

His words make your mind sober up, your eyes focusing on his and not those around you. He used his thick thumb to rub the tears out of the corner of your eyes.

“It’s’okay Sylus,” you gasp, the pain of his thick cock making it difficult to speak, “I-I’m’okay.”

Sylus grimaces, hearing the choke of discomfort in your soft voice. The way your cunt felt around him was so completely and wholly blissful, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“Just focus on me, alright my dove?” he murmurs, his voice gruff with desire. As he continues to rock into you, unbearably gently and loving, he leans down until his lips are a mere inch from yours. 

“Let me take the pain away, hm?”

He presses his lips to yours, inhaling your gasp as he kisses you for the first time. You’d daydreamed about the way his lips would feel on yours, when you watched him train with his fellow warriors, when you’d wash fresh fruit in the brook by the clearing, when he’d watch over you, protecting you from a danger that everyone refused to tell you the truth of.

But your silly little daydreams paled in comparison to the real thing. Nothing could have prepared you for how warm and commanding his lips would be when they took yours. How his tongue, gentle yet insistent as they traced the opening of your mouth, would slip into your mouth, exploring you like he owned you. 

You never could have imagined the way he’d literally take your breath away, kissing you like he’d been waiting just as long to taste you, to have you.

It’s so wonderfully dizzying that you don’t even notice the pain of his member inside you ebbing into a burning pleasure. You don’t notice the way people holler when Sylus kisses you, the way they cheer at the scene unfolding before them. 

You squeak, a mix of a moan and a squeal when Sylus pushes so deeply into you that you briefly see warm white stars clouding your vision. Sylus groans, ripping his lips from yours to breathe out a throaty moan of pained pleasure.

“Not so tight,” he all but seethes at you. You wince at his harsh tone, doing your best to relax your squirming muscles and obey his words. Sylus instantly softens at your reaction, his hand coming up to caress your cheek.

“You’re so tight down here, sweetheart,” he grits, fingers coming down to press on your bare tummy, “It’s making it difficult for me to…control myself.”

“I-Is that…” you whimper, confused by the way he’s making your body burn with an unfamiliar pleasure, “Ngh – bad?”

Sylus chuckles, despite the tortured plea that shines in his carmine eyes, “Bad? Far from it…You feel unbelievable.”

Your heart clenches at his praises, cheeks heating at the sounds his body makes against yours. Flushed at the way people are watching Sylus claim every inch of you, your virtue. 

He continues, stroking your cheek gently, pleadingly, “But it would be embarrassing if you made me…end the Rite so quickly. In front of all these people.”

The implications of his words dawn on you and your eyes widen in a mix of surprise and disbelief. He doesn’t stop his movements even as he explains himself to you, your nails digging into his thick biceps that cage you, blocking your modesty from the spectators.

“I have an image to uphold, after all,” he smirks only half-joking, a well deserved arrogant confidence playing behind his beautiful features, “Only you would make it so difficult for me, little bird.”

“M’not trying to Sy –” you choke out, looking down and trying to focus on the way his impossible girth splits you open, and not the jeering of the crowd. You’re briefly hypnotized by the shiny ring of something filthy that encircles his base, the way his abdomen clenches with every movement he makes. 

You’re snapped out of your trance at the distinct and familiar voices, some distance behind your head. You’re acutely reminded of just how exposed you are, your thighs trying to clench shut on instinct. But Sylus’s body holds them open, his fingers gripping your chin to bring your face back to his.

“Don’t worry about them.”

“I-I just –” you whine, not even knowing what you want to say, unable to stop your eyes from darting around. You squirm when you make eye contact with the hungry eyes around you, recoiling into yourself.

“I can tell you exactly what each and every one of them are thinking,” Sylus purrs into your ear as he leans down to press his weight deliciously onto you, which only earns more hooping and hollering from the crowd, “They’re thinking about what it would be like…to be in my place.”

Sylus smirks when you shiver at his lewd words, his filthy whisperings making you inexplicably and embarrassingly excited. His voice is impossibly heated, a dangerous ferality behind them, “Thinking about what it would be like to be the one inside of you right now.”

You whine at his words, hitting his shoulder weakly, “Sylus d-don’t say that. I only want to think about you.”

Sylus groans, a beautifully deep and erotic moan of satisfaction, “Damn right. You are mine.”

He continues on, so lost in the feeling of your tight wet walls that he begins to ramble uncharacteristically, “I’m sorry, my love. I will make it up to you.”

Before you can even ask for what, Sylus is driving right back into your deepest parts, making your toes curl as you squeal unabashedly, not even registering how people cheer at the way you he fucks you.

He whispers, not paying any mind to the way people applaud the way Sylus makes your body keen, encouraging him to take you harder, “After this, little bird, I’ll show you just how good I can make you feel. Just you and me. I promise.”

As inexperienced as you were, you knew the way Sylus fucked you was otherwordly. His thrusts, both dominating and tender, his hands gentle as they squeeze your breasts, his lips as they caress yours. The way he so quickly blurred the pain to a blinding pleasure, you knew Sylus knew exactly how to use his body. 

Beyond that, you knew Sylus was well acquainted with the female body. The way he fucked you was unreal, quite literally making magic with your joined bodies. The pain had faded away, replaced with an ecstasy that nearly blocked everything else out.

Nearly.

As the whooping gets louder, Sylus only fucks you harder, trying to distract you from the crowd around you, “It’s just you and me, sweeheart.”

Despite Sylus’s comforting words, he himself was still profoundly aware of the eyes on your joined bodies. But it only served to excite him, make him harder. The way all eyes were on you, the beautiful woman he’d chosen for himself, his mate. Something they could stare at but never indulge in. It drove him insane. 

You nod, losing yourself as Sylus’s rhythmic pounding makes your nerves burn with pleasure, in a way that makes you confused and alarmed. You felt lightheaded, the pressure in your stomach overwhelming. It felt like you were losing control of your body, like you might have an accident all over him. 

“Sy-Sylus, I think something’s – nghn – happening!” you wail, “I think maybe we should – ahngh – stop.”

Sylus groans, acutely aware, even if you aren’t, that you’re nearing your very first orgasm. You squeeze him so tightly that he can’t help but meet you at the peak of that blinding pleasure.

“Let it happen, Y/N,” he soothes, trying to mask the fact that he’s about to lose his own mind from how perfectly you’re clamping down on his cock, “You’re close aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen at the realization of what this sensation is, having heard stories from the other women in the clan, almost scared of how explosive you know it’s going to be. Your fingers furiously grapple at the thick ropes of muscles on his back, scratching deep red welts into him. 

“Cum for me in front of all these people, my dove,” he coos, almost condescendingly, “Let’s show them exactly who you belong to now, hm?”

His words drip with absolute filth and it only makes the tension grow tauter, almost like a balloon being stretched to its limits before it pops. You don’t even notice when Sylus’s large hands find  the area where your bodies meet. 

Your eyes, screwed shut at the new sensations of mind and bodily bliss, fly open when he touches your most sensitive parts, rubbing furiously at the crest of your lips. The feeling is so overwhelming your back arches off the thick mat of straw and blankets that you rest on, chasing the sharp pleasure that his fingers bring onto your intimate regions.

“So responsive,” Sylus murmurs gruffly, “Just like that, my heart. Let yourself feel it, hm? For me.”

You’re honestly at a loss at how Sylus can speak to you coherently right now, if he feels even a fraction of the ecstasy he’s bestowing upon your body. 

As your eyes roll back, your mouth parted in a symphony of the most beautiful moans and whimpers, Sylus feels himself being pushed to release. The sharp claps of applause are muted as his ears ring with the overwhelming pressure of how badly his cock wants to release inside you.

For the first time, Sylus stutters, “I-I need to cum inside you. I’m sorry, my love.”

The Mating Rite required the participating parties to unify in the most intimate ways possible, and that included the sharing of essences. And the idea of that…as new as you were to the pleasures of skinship, drove you to madness.

The thought of him filling you so deeply with him, all of him. You couldn’t explain it but you wanted it more than anything you’d ever wished for.

You can’t stop yourself from begging pathetically, “I-I want it. I want you Sy. Please.”

Your voice is practically drowned out by the intensifying cheers of the crowd, but Sylus hears your pleas loud and clear. In fact it’s the only thing he can hear, his brain drowning out anything that wasn’t you.

“Do you?” Sylus smirks, trying to maintain control despite how royally fucked your words rendered him, “So filthy for such an innocent little bird.”

“Then you’d better take it all, my love.”

With frenzied fingers, Sylus sends you careening down the unfamiliar ledge of orgasmic bliss. His thrusts grow increasingly frantic, your cunt convulsing so violently that Sylus nearly wants to black out. You were so unbearably tight that his climax was forced out of him, the warm splash of milky hot seed coating every centimeter of your perfect little hole. 

As he spews into you, he feverishly takes your lips into his, desperate to taste you as his body gave you every ounce of himself. His tongue furiously finds yours, a fierce gnashing of teeth, flesh, and raw unadulterated passion. Your entire body vibrates as he moans into you, his body rocking both of you through a transcendent euphoria that will undoubtedly change your life forever. 

Neither of you can even hear the screams or the toast of applause that erupts all around you, clan members quite literally celebrating at the union of their most prized warrior. 

Sylus doesn’t still, biting the inside of his mouth as he ruts himself into a painful overstimulation. Yet, he can’t get enough of you, not wanting to pull out and be without your warmth, without you.

“The rite has been completed!”

As your body begins to come down from its dizzying heights, your senses start to return, your consciousness becoming vaguely aware of people crowding closer. 

One of the clan elders saunters over, wanting to congratulate Sylus, parade him around like a prize the clan had secured for themselves. Sylus’s body blocks his as he approaches, his head snapping back forcefully when he feels an unwanted presence encroaching on your space, intruding on his brief moment of bliss with you. 

“Sy?” you murmur wearily, your body drained of every last drop of energy, replacing your body with a heavy contentment that weighed you down. 

Sylus doesn’t respond, snapping something at the clan elder, and the other important clan members that had begun to slowly approach. Though you couldn’t hear what he said, you can make out his snarky and forceful tone, a tone you’d never heard him take, especially not with you. It was filled with an authority that would normally never be taken with those of the Elder Tribunal. 

But of course, he was Sylus.

Just like that, everyone is clearing out of the small meadow in which the Rite had taken place, heading back to the central square of the Grassland. The serenity left behind blankets you and Sylus, as he returns his attention back to you.

His manhood is still snug inside you, thick and throbbing again despite the copious amounts of slick dripping from where he still plugs you. Your legs are lazily clung to his sides, his thick body slotted between your shaking thighs. 

“Hey…” he murmurs, brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. 

Your eyes flutter open, twinkling when they catch the way Sylus drinks you in. His lips are quirked in a smirk, a classic display of Sylus-esque arrogance, but his crimson eyes are so tender, the sharp lines of his face softened. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your clammy forehead, wrapping his arms behind your back and cradling you in his arms. He hoists you onto his lap, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, his erection still nestled into your sore walls. 

“For what?” you whisper, resting your head on his chest, trying to control the shivers that rack your body involuntarily.

“For doing this. For me.”

You glance up at him, unsure of what to say. You hardly felt like you did him a favor, between the indescribable pleasure he’d just given you and the feelings for him you’d buried deep down. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” you whisper, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever, even though the two of you finally had some privacy. 

Sylus doesn’t speak, holding you dearly as he gazes off into the flat plains of the Grassland, a few large acacia trees littered in the open fields. 

“It was…incredible,” you admit, “You’re incredible.”

Sylus looks down at you, the usual cockiness and arrogance faded, letting you really see into the soft and warm soul of the Grassland’s most revered warrior.

He bends down to kiss you, his lips impossibly soft and patient as opposed to the violent way he’d kissed you earlier. Every touch is a caress, every second precious and fleeting. 

Sylus bites back his groan as he feels himself stirring back to life inside you. He tries to focus instead on how it feels to hold you, to have you. 

He fully intended to make good on his earlier promise, showing you just how thoroughly he could love you. But for now, he just wanted to feel your lips on his, your skin against his. The way he’d always wanted. The way he’d always intended. 

A warm gust of wind sweeps through the meadow, making the foliage dance lazily. For over two decades, you’d lived between these very same blades of grass. Yet as you kissed Sylus, the Grassland had never felt quite so alive.

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.