#stygian x reader

STYGIAN

Arguably the oldest of the four widely known employers, for as long as life has existed, so too has death. Black wisps of smoke curled around his skeletal form, flowing down without pattern or consistency. His few visible features deep set in his face, from his dull pink eyes, to his cheekbones protruding prominently.

His paper thin skin seemed to barely sit on the pink toned bones, looking as if any movement would tear it away, it was something you'd wondered about often when thinking of him.

"Worm." His voice was hollow, a soulless husky rasp with a hint of airiness to it. That was how he referred to everyone he deemed below him, which was everything but his kin.

Being called upon to aid in his work was exciting, yet a heavy burden. Plenty of dead souls passed this realm, and you were part of an exclusive team of judges, dictating where each S-3LF should go. To be reborn, to be banished to purgatory, sentenced to hell, or perhaps the worst fate you'd come to learn of, to be torn asunder into nothing, scattered across the cosmic void.

Sure, purgatory and hell weren't pleasant places, but arguably seemed kinder fates that simply becoming completely undone, as though one had never existed at all...

He snapped his fingers, and you were alone in his office. "Sit." His voice was cold and commanding, yet it always had that tone. Reading him was difficult, always a frigid reception, emotionless to the fullest extent. You obeyed without a word, the chair uncomfortable and worn, unlike the one behind his desk, which was new, plush, and looked a whole lot more comfortable.

His gaunt figure passed by, and a hint of ash mixed with embalming fluids flooded your nose, still incredibly potent despite how often the smell filled your office space.

Narrow hip bones lay neath the skirt of his black floor length toga, a belt of tiny animal skulls rested around his waist. "You are being far too kind to these pathetic bugs. You have yet to submit souls to be cast into The Nothing. Weakness like this shall not be taken lightly."

"I'm sorry, sir." His eyes narrowed.

"These are unworthy beings deserving of erasure, if you can't comply, you'll find yourself joining them into obscurity."

"I'll do better, sir. I vow it."

"As is expected. You are meant to make my job easier. Remember, you are replaceable."

"Understood, sir."

You were suddenly back in your office, leaving Stygian alone in his. He sat at his desk, gritting his teeth. Yes, this little worm was weak, below him, so why couldn't he get you off his mind?

Too kind for their own good, even when he insulted them, berated and tore them apart, they were ever-so polite and always replied formally. His smoke curled around his head, growing thicker as his annoyance grew, filling the room with a black and pink haze.

He was the beast of death, reeling in souls and fixing the afterlife for all, and love and romance weren't really his deal. He was utterly blind to this, doubly so because it was mere mortal that caught his fancy.

He snapped his fingers, and at once a younger fellow Employer appeared in the chair ahead of him. "You really need to stop doing that. I was busy." Dreamer sighed and looked at Stygian. "Why did you call on me, brother?"

Stygian sighed, like a wind blowing through bones. "A mortal being plagues my mind. You deal with these things regularly, what do you propose is wrong with me?"

Dreamer twirled her star earring. "Depends, what thoughts are you thinking?"

"They infest my mind like maggots, writhing in my skin and burrowing deeper. Their face haunts my mind, a ghost trapped in my skull. Tell me Dreamer, tell me, what is wrong?"

Summoning a tea cup, Dreamer sipped thoughtfully. "You're in love."

"What?"

She giggled and rolled her eyes. "This mortal, whoever they are, you're in love with them. Indulge in it, or don't. Do what thou will, tis what thy's best at. But if you do intent to pursue them, do change out of your deathly rags, okay Steeg?" She clapped her hands, and was gone.

In love? HIM? Bullshit, Dreamer was in her own world again. No. He wasn't in love. He needed to kill you, to break you from his mind entirely, to make you cease to exist, to-

A stack of documents landed in his tray, and he groaned, taking the top one off. His eyes instantly went to the bottom, your signature freshly inked. "Perhaps the purple one has a point." He slumped in his chair slightly, casting the paper aside. Auditor could file them himself, he enjoyed that stuff anyway.

Stygian got up, melting into the floor, appearing back in his private quarters. Heading to his wardrobe, he cracked it open, seeing nothing more than old suits, funeral attire, and worn out reaper robes. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, of course his clothing was useless, he rarely took care of his physical form.

He's living death for Maker's sake, why is he fussing about this?!

"Your thoughts are disrupting my flow." Connie was sitting in a chair in Stygian's bedroom.

"Tis a shame we cannot all have coherent thoughts, Conductor." Stygian scowled angrily. "Precisely what are you intending to achieve here?"

Conductor let out a melodic chuckle, his voice smooth like a fine tuned instrument. "You're not yourself. You're... Bothered. And I don't mean your usual gloom filled irritated self." He rested his head on a fist. "And since when do you change your attire but once a century?"

Stygian gritted his sharp teeth. "Well. Fine. Dreamer may have placed..... Strange thoughts in my mind, about... 'Love.' With some mortal of all things." He threw an old suit on the floor. "And that my clothes are RAGS!"

Connie straightened his tie. "She.. Has a point on that second thing." He pulled his baton, twirling it around in his hands, a blue light shooting out and wrapping itself around Stygian, and instantly tall, dark, and depressing was in a new, freshly pressed three piece suit with a pink tie to match his eyes. "Much better."

Stygian tapped his tie, and a skull lapel pin appeared on it.

Again Conductor swirled his baton, and a fat bouquet of white lilies mixed with blood red roses appeared in Stygian's arms. "Mortals are finicky, they enjoy things like that. Now go and demand they accept your offer."

You were seated at your desk still, condemning another old soul to the void. This one had lived so many lives, so many wicked lived. Dissolving them would be a blessing to the world... That was rather cruel, unlike your usual thoughts. Strange...

"Ahem." You spun in your chair, seeing Stygian in a full suit, his misty 'hair' flowing down, streaks of pink inside inky black. "You will attend a restaurant with me tonight. We need to discuss what happened earlier in greater depth."

Stygian wasn't asking, he was commanding. "Y-yes sir." You found yourself questioning his motives, he never spent time with anyone besides his brothers and sister.

His eyes narrowed, reading you back. "Here." He grunted, thrusting his arm out, shoving the bouquet into your face. "I've been informed that your kind... enjoys such gestures."

"What.. is this?" You looked up from your roses and lilies, and spotted soft pink flushing his cheeks, his eyes averted. "Sir?"

"Just get ready." Stygian snapped his fingers, a body hugging lacy black dress, with rhinestones and intricate little patterns embroidered on, and a classy all black suit, equally bejewelled with lace gloves both appeared on your desk. "Hopefully either of those should be to your liking."

You picked out one of the garments and rushed off to the staff toilets, heart racing and hands shaking. This wasn't happening, right? In a second, Stygian's hand would slam on your desk, and he'd bark at you to wake up. Surely he hadn't picked up on your slight attraction to him, right?

It was cringe-worthy, the living embodiment of death making your stomach butterflies flutter wildly. His cold demeanour, his harsh attitude, the puppy-love feeling of him softening these traits for you, it was all a fantasy, right?

Dressing up, you stepped out, and nearly collided with Stygian, who was lingering outside. "You... look nice." He grumbled, covering his mouth. "I figured you could perhaps enhance your appearance further with this."

He held out a box, opening it to show off a beautiful necklace with pink gemstones encrusted in rose gold metal. "A-are you sure about this sir? This doesn't seem like you."

Stygian looked at you finally, smoke swirling around his skull, twirling around your face as he stepped closer. "Don't think I haven't picked up on your signals, mortal. I can hear the way your heart races when you're close to me, I feel the lingering stares that could almost imprint in my form. I've ignored it and pushed it down for as long as I could, mistaking my own affections for resentment.

You wish to entangle yourself with death? Then prove to me you're worthy of it." Your hands grasped his cheeks, passing through his misty form and grabbing a hold of the black bone beneath, pulling it towards your face, feeling his teeth against your lips.

His flames were cool, but his bones were warm, pleasantly heating your hands as you held him, one of his skeletal hands covered yours, the other pulling you closer by your hips.

A lightheaded feeling washed over you, you started to collapse in his arms, but he was quick to support you. As he pulled back, you noticed a white mist flowing from between his teeth.

"Quite literally stealing your breath away." Resting in his arms a moment, his hand rubbed your back to comfort you, the other cradling your head against his chest. "To be in love with a mortal... To my kin it's unheard of. But you're different. You always have been. You vex me, but I crave it."

He slipped the necklace around your neck, and you looked up from the comfort of his skeletal form to his pink eyes. "Does this mean you're not firing me at dinner tonight?" You joked and he closed his eyes and sighed.

Should the Deliberator try to place a hand on you, or the Auditor wrap you up in another embrace, Stygian’s always the first to protest. “You shouldn’t be laying a finger on them,” they’d say, “It’s blasphemous that you’d think to do so first. Remember your place, worm."

Perhaps it’s because they’re naturally very private, or maybe they just want to appear “above” such baser behaviors (even if they're filled with spite and jealousy when the others engage in them). They were an Employer; temptations of such kind should be foreign to them. However, for the first time in Stygian’s existence, they felt that want. No, the need. For someone else’s attention and touch, and someone who’s above them at that.

It was shameful, and an unnecessary overstepping of the boundaries that come with such hierarchies. Stygian has been around a long time and was far wiser than their younger, more impulsive colleague. They deeply respect you, even if their understanding of humans (or simply “normal” people, including grunts) is stunted by their absolute unwillingness to interact with most people or indulge in their foolishness. But that’s the problem; you make them foolish.

Holding hands is the most they’re willing to do with you behind closed doors, but you weren’t ignorant to the way they seemed to want more than that. And you’d give it to them. After all, despite how weird Stygian acted, they were one of the Employers you felt most comfortable around. (Even if you had to sternly lecture them about the indirect way they spoke to you sometimes. Questions were always an issue with the Employers, which got extremely tiring very fast.)

Truthfully, you found surprising Stygian with affection to be fun. The way they freeze when you wrap your arms around their torso as best you can is very amusing, but even better is how you can feel the smoke on their body heat up drastically, as though it’s steam rising from them instead of that fog that makes up their form.

The Employer doesn’t exactly need to breathe, but you swear you can hear a slight choking noise when you press into them. They only move to look down once their larger, wispy hands reach down to cover your own as if they’re checking to make sure they aren’t imagining that you’re actually embracing them.

After doing their own form of confirmation, they’ll slowly turn towards you, carefully leaning down to get closer to your height as their arms come up, but pausing just before they wrap around you in turn. They weren’t sure what they were waiting for; you were already embracing them, but their own hesitancy prevented them from returning it, their usual principles forcing them into an unsure position as they battled over which side of themselves they should listen to. The one that yearned for your touch and affection, the very same that made their form heat and their gaze soften as they looked at you, or the stricter side that tried to show how worthy they were of your favor through restraint and keeping that thin boundary between you, one of Player and subject. (They refused to be like the Auditor, who just seemed to take what he wanted.)

Yet when you look up at them and give them a bright grin, your colorful eyes filled with an almost shocking level of affection, they feel their body relax despite themselves, and they hold you closer. Their grip is soft at first, yet it tightens over time as they pull you into their smoky form, their paws encompassing your waist and shoulders as they give in to their inhibitions for once and revel in this gift you’ve given them.

Stygian’s never felt warmth like yours before; the cozy heat that blooms from where your torso presses against them makes them feel hot, but it isn’t uncomfortable. No, instead it feels almost addictive, like they’ve been hit with the sudden realization of just how cold they’ve been without you there. The smoke that makes up their form seems to rise around you, clouding the points where you touch as they lean further into you with a low hum. They’re nearly kneeling on the floor just to be close to you, daring to nuzzle into your temple as they make a noise of contentment. They're truly happy, for once.

Kissing Stygian is another matter. Despite being very standoffish and cold, they’d do whatever you asked, and you used this to get them to lean down towards you. They typically expected that you’d tell them something, or perhaps bless them with another one of those hugs you liked to give out. However, when you place your hands on their face instead and gently pull them down further so you can kiss them, their reaction depends on where it is.

If you do it on their cheek, they’ll pause before nuzzling slightly into yours. They don’t kiss you back, but the way the smoke on their form flares up for a second reveals just how flustered you’ve made them. As does the small, polite “thank you” they murmur, almost as if they’re dazed at what just happened.

A kiss on the lips, however, will cause them to freeze yet again, the magenta slits that form their eyes widening before they take in exactly what you're doing. They move tentatively against you, but when you respond with a content sigh they're only emboldened, movements becoming more frantic as their impulses threaten to consume them. They shift to press into you and your senses are overcome with their smoke and the lingering scent of night air.

You pull away and they push closer, almost chasing your lips before they stop abruptly, as if trying to reign themselves in again. Their form seems more unstable than before, but they don't care. As long as they can keep touching you, it doesn't matter how put together they look.

This is also similar to the manner in which Stygian usually kisses you. They'll lean down to face you when you're with them, stopping when they're close enough for you to see how the dark fog cascades from their form in small plumes. A single clawed hand carefully raises your chin, and they murmur a small apology against your lips as they lean in. (“Forgive me if this is improper," they said. As if you were going to be mad at them for this.) Softness quickly gives way to desperation, and they nearly shudder when they feel the tip of your tongue trace the seam of their "lips."

As you pull back from each other, you notice how lax they seem to be afterwards, the bright color of their eyes smoothing from their narrowed shape. They're relaxed, even if their grip on you is anything but.

Stygian feels fulfilled, for once. Like this is something that they’ve always wanted and longed for, even before they knew of your existence. But even so, it isn’t enough, not nearly. They wonder if this is what love is, to only feel complete when they’re with you. It must be; Stygian has never felt genuine adoration for anyone like this before, but they knew that it was the only explanation. Giving in could truly be rewarding, it seems.

- [THE DELIBERATOR] -

The Deliberator is probably the friendliest of the Employers, or at least the most polite. While he isn’t one to push his affections on you suddenly, some touchiness is always expected from him which makes returning it a simple matter (unlike with the others).

However, while the Deliberator loves giving you a quick hug, or ruffling your hair affectionately as he walks by, he never thought you’d take the initiative to give him it first. Why would he? He wasn’t stupid enough to assume a higher being like yourself would care that much for people like the Employers (lowly compared to you, of course). However, he’d come to know just how mistaken he was.

He’s genuinely overjoyed the moment he feels your smaller form’s weight on him, the arrows and other geometrical shapes that rise from him whirl around you harmlessly as he laughs, turning to scoop you up and bring you closer. He’s excitable, barely able to stand still as he rocks on his heels, swaying with you held tenderly to his torso. “Thank you,” he seems to breathe against you, “You always seem to know just what I need.”

You chuckle, and you think you can feel him smile against your hand when you reach up to pat him on the cheek affectionately. He nuzzles into your palm with a love-struck sigh, his shadowy body relaxing against your smaller one.

(He never knew that someone could make him feel so at ease, and so infatuated with their very being. The Deliberator is aware of his emotions, and knows that the love he felt for you was stronger than any feeling he'd had before.

He wonders if you knew of the effect you had on him - if you were aware of how he pined for every touch, word, and glance you had the possibility to give him. He wonders if you knew just how much he wanted to be completely enveloped in anything and everything you, until he knew more about you than anyone else, and you were so intertwined that you couldn't be kept from each other. He wanted everything you could give, and in return, he'd give you all that he was.)

Surprising the Deliberator with a kiss is also met with an ecstatic reaction on his part, and with how touchy he is it’s very easy to do. All that’s needed is for you to brace a hand against his jaw when he’s close enough, and gently pull him down to meet your gaze. His glowing eyes disappear for a second when he “blinks” and leans into your hands happily, only to go wide with a flash when you lean in.

The Deliberator knew your skin was soft, and he had imagined what it would feel like to have your lips against him many, many times. (Daydreaming about you was the thing he did the most outside of his actual job; he didn’t care to limit his thoughts about you for the sake of productivity).

But he didn’t know just how good kissing you would be; with you slowly moving your lips against his in a way that sent shivers through him and prompted a near whine to leave him as he softly pressed back. (He didn’t even know anything could elicit such a noise, mind you.)

You pull away to find him bleary and dazed, with a tight grip on you that barely allows you to move from him. He leans in closer to you quickly, whispering a plea against your lips. “Please, do that again,” he begs, and because you’re so kind (something he was always quick to praise you for) you do. As many times as he needs.

This moment was the catalyst of all the times the Deliberator found it necessary to kiss you first as well, which he does quite often. Kisses from the Deliberator are always soft and quick; stolen in the midst of one of those hugs he sweeps you up in, or simply a quick peck to the lips as he greets you. It’s done impulsively and as he’s filled with excitement just from being so close with you (and from the knowledge that you like it when he does this), and it shows from how he'll pepper the corners of your lips with them, eventually moving to kiss your cheeks as you laugh. He always returns to your lips though, in the end.

It’s usually up to you to go deeper with it, surprising him with a bite to his lip or a flick of your tongue against his mouth, something that never fails to pull a flustered gasp from him. (It’s a way for you to take back what little control you lose when he surprises you like this.)

The Deliberator is almost delirious when you slide your tongue into his mouth, head hazy from your warmth and the feeling of your lips and body against his. As you pulled away to breathe, they made a mental note to try to initiate this more with you. After all, if you seemed to enjoy it so much, then why wouldn’t they indulge in it more often? He'd give you anything, and he'd allow you to take even more. It's what you deserve, as his beloved.

- [THE CONDUCTOR] -

It’s hard to show the Conductor physical affection, at least it was at first. The whole reason why he had settled on simply recording your movements (amongst many other things) was that he couldn't exactly participate in them. The electricity that coursed through the Conductor was enough to cause you discomfort, even the beginnings of pain if it went on longer than a few minutes.

It was too much for him to risk; injuring you just to feel the sensation of your skin against the shadowy mass that made up his own was a trade-off he wasn't willing to make. Not that he doesn't want to, of course.

He wouldn’t ever tell you, but he had always been incredibly jealous of the other Employers just for how they can come into close contact with you. Their relationships with you appear to be far more intimate as a result, and while he's sure he can eventually reach that level of closeness (metaphorically speaking), it's simply unfair that he'd have to do so in a longer amount of time. It's the only time he'd question himself on why he was given this form by the Machine - a rarity, as there are few beings more sure of themselves than the Employers.

Despite his attempts to hide his envy, you eventually noticed. It was almost pitiable, and a part of you felt bad for having to leave the Conductor out of the affection you showed the others. It had taken quite a learning curve to strengthen your bond with the Employers (with you teaching them more than not; they really were clueless when it came to how normal people acted, even if they could pretend they weren’t for a short time). So you found a prospective solution to this issue; helping the Conductor control his conductivity. Or at least, making it so the volts that make up his being don’t cause you harm.

With this work in mind, and how quickly the Conductor was to agree (eager, you’d say, from how quickly he nodded and spoke word after word of gratefulness to you for thinking about trying), you began to show him more physical affection. It was a slow process, as you knew that genuinely startling him with a hug or even hand-holding likely wouldn’t end well. However, merely surprising him, on the other hand, was very easy.

The Conductor had never expected you to show him any care through touch, so when you lean over to him and gently take one of his hands in yours, running your thumbs along the unstable, ever-changing surface of his skin (or his equivalent to it), he flinches. You feel the quick zap of static against your fingers, and he immediately turns to ask if you’re okay, voice shaky and tinged with worry. He moved to pull his hand from your grasp before you could answer, but his eyes widened when you tighten your grip.

“I’m fine, Conductor, don’t worry. You’ve gotten better at controlling it, good job,” you say with a proud grin and lean further into his side, genuinely happy with his progress (he has worked diligently at it, after all). He burns at the praise, head tilting to the side as he shyly averts his gaze from you.

The Conductor never knew how nice it felt to have someone so happy for such a relatively small accomplishment (even if controlling his electrical currents did take considerable work, and the threat of hurting you again caused him immense anxiety). He looks back at you, unsure of what to do before you gesture for him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, and he does so, stiffening slightly when you nonchalantly lean into him in response. If he had a heart, it’d be beating dangerously fast. (So you'd wanted him to touch you more?)

He’s scared of hurting you, but at the same time, he can’t help feeling almost gleeful at how you’ve decided to give him this experience. At how you've decided to trust him with your safety and give him this second chance at physical affection.

Kissing the Conductor is very much the same, with how his actions are permeated by inexperience and the need for direction. He goes tense when you loop your arms around his neck and pull him in, at first believing that you just wanted a more intimate embrace, until you leaned up and pressed your lips into the wavering form of what made up his.

He gasps quietly and his hands release their hold on you, and you can hear the harsh crack of electricity from his fingers as he moves them away from you. (The last thing he wanted to do was make you pull away and stop kissing him because he was too surprised to get control of himself.)

The tingly feeling of the electrical currents running through his body isn’t unpleasant by any stretch, and you hear the hum of building static get louder when you sigh against him, tilting your head in an attempt to get him moving again. He reflects your movements curiously, lips molding against yours in slow, careful movements that make a grin pull at the corners of yours.

He doesn’t exactly relax until he feels you smile against him before pulling away, and if you could see them you’d realize that his hands hadn’t stopped shaking for the entirety of your kiss. He’s nervous for once in his life; terrified of screwing up things between you because he doesn’t know what to do. 

(You can’t blame him for it, or at least he hopes you’d see it that way. He’s never felt this way about anyone else, never been plagued with thoughts of how death would be a preferable alternative to losing your favor and attention. It’s dramatic, but he’s heard love was supposed to be that way.)

When it comes to the Conductor kissing you, it's always a decision with a lot of rumination behind it. He spends hours thinking of what he should do to initiate it, taking in your past reactions to anything affectionate (and how you kiss him) to come up with a suitable plan to get the best results. It’s not like you’re a test subject, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to handle the embarrassment of it going badly.

For you, though, it’s just as sudden as when you decide to do it. You’ll be sitting at his side before he shifts closer, far more than you’d been expecting at the time, and you’ll turn to face him with a questioning look. He seems to hesitate for a moment, but he’s upon you before you can get a word out, slamming his lips against yours in a motion you knew would end with a painful clacking of teeth if he was a human. He isn’t though, so you don’t find the need to correct him, instead leaning into him to press more firmly, delighting in how his grip tightens (likely to try and still his trembling hands). When you pull back from him, he looks at ease, even if the noise of electrical currents is far louder than before.

He wonders if doing it again as he'd like would be too greedy - a thought repeated each time he repeatedly presses his lips against yours.

- [THE AUDITOR] -

The Auditor has always been very physically affectionate with you, even when you first arrived and expected to see the opposite from him. This actually means surprising him with affection is rather rare, since he’d prefer to never spend even a single second away from your side. He considers it to be where he rightfully belongs, after all.

Though he actually is somewhat very shocked when you decide to do something before he can, if not a little taken aback at how you beat him to the punch. He considers it to be his responsibility to shower you with all the affection he can muster giving; he was the more "inferior" being in this scenario after all, and he already knew he loved you, so working for your approval was a given.

Plus, even if he’d absolutely love it if you returned his gestures (more than you could possibly know), he had little expectation that you’d do so in such a short period of knowing him. You certainly didn’t for the first few weeks you spent together. Besides, he wouldn't say he's that delusional. Not after his initial hopes of it were dashed, at least.

So you can imagine his surprise when you nudged his arms up from where they were resting on his desk, only to take a seat on his lap. He paused and you took a moment to get comfortable, leaning back into his chest and flashing him a lazy grin.

It takes him a moment to take in but he masks his surprise with a quiet chuckle, wrapping a single arm around your waist to pull your hips closer before loosening it - just slightly so he can let his hand rest on your side just under where your ribs end. His long fingers sneak under the hem of your shirt so he can smooth over your skin whilst the other writes on the paperwork he has to complete.

He thinks he's good at hiding his true reaction, but the way you feel the already-warm form of his flair with sudden heat (one you knew was hotter than usual) tells another story. As did the way his flames seemed to burn brighter and less controlled, and how he even raised a hand to tighten his tie (something he never did; it's not like it moved much with his clip holding it in place).

It was amusing, as the Auditor never broke composure like this before. However, the way you blushed at how suddenly he yanked you flush to his body made up for the "inequality" in how flustered you both were. Naturally, he notices this.

"Comfortable, darling?" He asks with a slightly teasing tone, reaching down with his other hand to cup your face and run a clawed thumb over your cheek. He doesn't know why you decided to get all close to him on your own, but that doesn't mean he won't take advantage of the situation to see how your face flushes and how your eyes flicker with changing emotions as he touches you more.

You thoroughly expect this at this point though. "Yes, of course, love," you say, "why wouldn't I be?" The response is done with practiced nonchalance, and you thought you might be able to get more of a bashful or embarrassed reaction. Though instead he only paused again before humming in contemplation. His hand tightened its grip on you and moved further underneath your shirt to trace further over your bare skin, and you inhaled shakily. So much for that attempt.

(Unbeknownst to you, he was trying to wrestle his emotions out of the way so you wouldn't see how much he was freaking out over what you said. He's immensely grateful for not having the ability to blush or purr as grunts do in moments like these, he'd prefer not to embarrass himself like this. How could he be viewed as a strong partner if you saw him get so worked up over your simple comments? But try as he might, he couldn't stop the sound of you calling him a genuine pet name from echoing in his mind.

Love, huh? Is that what you really thought of him as? It'd only be better if it was preceded by a "my", as being known simply as "your Love" was better than even his official title given to him by the Machine. If he has to define his very being by your terms, then that was more than acceptable. He was already yours, so why wouldn't it be?)

While your sudden surprises of affection only made him bolder with giving out his own (if that were even possible), it made you wonder what other reactions you could pull from him. Which is what gave you the idea to kiss him in the first place.

Oddly enough, while the Auditor could be very intrusive with how he insists on giving you attention physically, and had actually kissed you before (unlike the others), he'd never dared to do it on the mouth. He instead placed them close to the very corner of your lips, or your cheeks, or on your hands (most commonly).

(If only you knew how much restraint it took him. The Auditor knows he's hasty and rash, but with how powerful he was, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted was child’s play. And you had no idea just how badly he wanted to kiss you, really kiss you.

He wanted to watch your features contort in surprise, only to grow flushed and heated as he presses further into you. He wants to know what you taste like, and how those teeth of yours feel against his shadowy, unstable sinew when he runs his “tongue” along them. But patience was important. Despite how his urges call to him, everything had its time. He could sate himself through cuddling or chaste pecks on your cheek or forehead. For now.)

With how much he focused on trying not to be headstrong (which was very rare), he was blindsided when you kissed him first. He’s always close, which makes it simple for you, and as you tug on his crimson tie to get him nearer to your face, he actually thinks you’re going to kiss him on the cheek or something similar - “Returning the favor” as he heard you say before. However, you instead turn your head to plant your lips firmly on where his own are.

His reaction is instant, immediately pressing forward into you as his hands come up, one tugging you closer by your waist as the other cradles the back of your head. His body grows so hot that he almost burns you when you reach up to wind your arms around his neck and nip at the weirdly firm “surface” of his lips (or his equivalent of them, anyway).

He moans lowly when he feels your teeth tug at his bottom lip, responding by pushing you closer. You inhale sharply at the noise, only to gasp when you feel a sort of tongue-like appendage sweep across your lips, only for it to enter your mouth as a result.

The Auditor's taste is odd, like that of smoke, and the overwhelming scent of him is just the same, filled with the ash and flame that's so characteristic of him. The air feels thick with it as you inhale through your nose, a noise slipping from you as he maps out the individual shapes of your teeth and winds his "tongue" with yours. You pull away just as you feel the pointed tip of it dart up against the very back of your mouth's roof, shivering and panting as clouds of smoke leave your breath, as though you've just taken a long drag from a cigarette.

The Auditor is almost shaking, mind running a mile a minute as he quickly reflects over your actions. He's not as surprised as you'd expect, but he's not all there either; his overwhelming need for more of your touch, and the want to worship you physically as you so rightfully deserve has only gotten stronger. And now he wonders - as he leans back to insistently press his lips on yours once more, and delights in how you push back roughly - what's the harm in letting go and doing as he always does?

The floodgates were broken with that simple interaction, and you should expect him to kiss you every time you end up together; whether it be a chaste one or a long, drawn-out kiss that ends with your hands tugging at his once-perfectly-put together collar so you can take a breath, he needs it now. It's almost like he can't live without it, and it shows in how rushed his movements are. While he isn't forceful enough to do it if you push him away, he is enough to initiate it whenever he feels the time is right (which is almost always).

He just wants to feel every part of you he can all the time, so that the memory of you and how you feel is so ingrained into him that he'd never be able to forget it. The way you react to his kisses is addictive, and he wants to see it again and again. It's part of how he shows his love, you see, and there is nobody more deserving of such attention than you.