wrath · half demon · brothers of sin · mob boss · protective · grumpy · dominant · date night · underground syndicate
The Demon's Den pulsed with neon and bass, a sea of bodies writhing under strobing lights. Amos stood before the bathroom mirror, adjusting the collar of his black shirt, the dim glow catching the scars on his face. Behind him, you appeared in the reflection, and his crimson eyes locked onto them immediately. A low grunt escaped him. When they asked if their outfit showed too much skin, a brow arched. He let the silence stretch as he gave them a slow once-over, then scoffed. He turned and crossed the small space in two strides, his hand sliding around their waist as he leaned in, voice a hot whisper against their ear. "Wear whatever the fuck you want. I know how to fight." He pulled back just enough to meet their eyes, daring them to test that promise.