#literally awoke from a dream and had to make this

[beachbabey]

this came to me like a goddam prophecy

priest!rhett x pagan!reader

[meatsaint]

The Genius, Michael Gavey.

Michael Gavey x Reader.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

oneshot.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

[himbodruid]

I’ve finally finished the next Dragon!Sylus piece! I apologize if it isn’t very good, I’ve been writing it while struggling with a high fever and an aggressive illness that came on rather suddenly (literally overnight) 😅

Dragon Sylus x Reader/You

Companion piece to A Dragon in Rut

Fic Master List

Edging | reader on top | switch Sylus

Intended for Mature readers ONLY. MINORS DNI

A Dragon in Love

He was hiding from you. After the night you shared with him, it irritated you to no end that he holed himself up in his chambers and refused to face you.

Things had been rather cordial shortly after, companionable. He would bury his face in your neck and inhale sharply with a pleased growl. But it was like regret slowly took over as the days passed, and suddenly you hadn’t seen him for over a week. Had he tired of you that quickly?

The decision to finally confront him came after a dream you had. From a sunset flight to rolling around in a field of flowers with Sylus, you awoke wanting and needy.

“That’s it,” you said to yourself as you threw back the covers. You picked yourself up off your pallet and stormed out into the main cavern.

Only to run headlong into a solid mass of muscle. All the bluster you worked up suddenly died when you looked up into the curious expression in Sylus’s eyes.

“Oh! Sylus, hello,” you stammered, unsure of yourself. Sylus held out his hand, and you saw a fruit you didn’t recognize clutched in his taloned fingers.

“I came to apologize,” he said simply while you took the fruit from him.

“If you’re gonna apologize for the night we shared, then don’t bother.” You’d be damned if he tainted the memory.

“I mostly wanted to apologize for treating you so roughly,” he murmured, his hand ghosting over your skin. You remembered bruises galore dotting your body after he was done with you, but you were long healed from the worst of them. You looked up at him, watching him as his eyes assessed your physical condition, tension bracketing his mouth. His touch was light as a feather, and it took all of your effort not to shiver.

Bold impulse had you leaning into him, your lips searching out his. He froze when you kissed him, still unaccustomed to such human actions. He relaxed into you a moment later, his hands wrapping around your hips and pulling you closer to him. He didn’t wear his usual protective leathers, instead opting for well-made cotton pants that were slung low on his hips. You couldn’t stop your own hands from exploring him.

His breath hitched as your hand brushed against the hemline of his pants. He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, tilting you back to have better access to your mouth. You opened to him when his tongue darted out and brushed your lip. At the invitation, a growl of approval rumbled deep in his chest and he plunged his tongue in to dance with yours. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you and you threw an arm around his neck to pull him closer. You could feel the length of him growing hard, pressing against your abdomen as you brought your body flush with his.

Breaking from his embrace, you tugged him into your room and pushed him down into your still-warm pile of blankets. He looked up at you with that infuriatingly attractive half smile, mischief lighting up his eyes. You stood over him, your own gaze raking over his form. His tail flicked back and forth in anticipation, waiting for you to make your move.

You slowly stripped your clothes from your body while he watched every move with hunger in his crimson eyes. Finally done teasing him, you crawled atop Sylus and kissed him hard. He moaned into you as your hands trailed down his body, tugging at the hemline of the pants he wore. Pants that were soon eagerly discarded.

You trailed open-mouthed kisses down the length of his body, letting your nipples drag feather-light touches along his torso until his cock was slotted nicely between your breasts. With a heaving chest, he watched you as you redirected your mouth to his hip and bit down on his flesh. All the while putting the barest of pressure on his cock with your breasts. Your teeth were merely human, but the action still had the desired effect as he threw his head back and groaned. You remained latched onto him, biting and sucking at the skin, until you were certain there would be a mark left for some time- payback, maybe, for the marks he left all over your body.

“Kitten, you-“ he began, whatever he was about to say cut off as he released a harsh moan. You’d turned your attention to his cock, then, rolling your tongue along the underside of the head. You were enjoying the sounds he made while your mouth toyed with him. His breaths grew ragged as he watched you take his cock into your mouth over and over again. It didn’t take long until you could feel him straining for release.

Right on the cusp, you released him from the heat of your mouth, not allowing him to roll over the edge. He was reduced to a panting, squirming mess and you took pride that it was because of you.

Sylus’s brows drew down in foggy confusion as you didn’t move on him again for a couple of minutes- allowing his ardor to cool slightly before crawling over him again. His lips found yours, coaxing you to open to him once again before plunging his tongue into your mouth. His hands clenched the backs of your thighs as you rocked against him, your cunt slicking so sensually along his cock.

“You make it hard for me to maintain control,” he growled while you continued to tease him with your body. You smirked and responded by finding his pulse with your tongue, marking him there, too, like you did his hip. His breath hissed in and he let his head drop back again. You were enjoying the way he allowed you to tease him, unrushed and completely vulgar. The reactions his body had to yours was a marvel to you.

His growling nearly turned into a whimpering moan when you finally lifted your hips and slowly impaled yourself onto his cock. You had been so caught up in him the last time you’d had sex with him, that you didn’t realize how..large he was. Your gasps turned into moans as you sank down onto him fully, relaxing your body to accept not only his full length, but his girth as well.

You rode him with a slow, sensuous pace. Each plunge earned you a moan from him, his hips rising to meet your descent. His mouth found your breast, teeth scraping your nipple. Your hand filtered through the silky strands of his hair and you sighed his name into the cavern air.

“Sylus,” you whined, picking up the pace of your hips. “You feel so damn good.”

You sat up, taking him impossibly deep and delighting in the expressions crossing his face. His eyes clenched closed, trying to maintain what little control he had left. His hands gripped your thighs, claws digging into your flesh as he urged you on faster. His body jerked of its own volition as pleasure zipped through him.

You put your hands against his chest, using the positioning as leverage to increase the friction and speed. The sounds of your bodies colliding echoed lewdly through the cavern, your voices rising to join the cacophony of your love-making.

Suddenly, Sylus’s arms came up to wrap around you. In a swift motion, you were pinned beneath him and he was driving into you while the last threads of his control snapped.

“You fit me so well, Kitten,” he growled. “So tight for me and when you cl- ah!”

You clenched your walls on him, interrupting his train of thought. Sylus dropped his head to your shoulder, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as you clung to him. With your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, you moved your hips to meet his every thrust.

“Sylus,” you whimpered to him. “S-so close.”

His mouth slanted over yours, tangling his tongue with yours while his hips ground against your own. He was buried in you so deep, so impossibly deep and you found yourself unable to tell where you ended and he began.

He pulled his mouth from yours, only to utter words of encouragement. “Come with me, over the edge.”

It was as though his words sent a command to your body. Fluttering deep in your core soon swept out to the rest of your body. You threw your head back, arching into him and crying out his name. He pumped into you even as your walls quivered with the intensity of your release. One final thrust and his cock pulsed and twitched inside you, your body milking him for every last drop.

His pleasure joined yours so intensely that all he could do was whimper and moan while his hips remained joined to yours. It wasn’t quite to the same level as the rutting you experienced with him previously, but gods the pleasure felt like it would never end. It seemed to taper out, only for him to move ever so slightly and send you into a spiral all over again. Even after his own climax, he was still so hard inside you.

He murmured your name into your ear, pulling out but not removing himself from you entirely. That devilish smirk of his flashed in your vision before he thrust back in. Sensitive and overstimulated, all you could do was cling to him and cry out his name. You just knew it was payback for the teasing you punished him with earlier, but it felt so good.

“S-Sylus!” You all but screamed his name as another intense wave washed over you. Your body jerked of its own volition and your back arched off the pallet. Sylus collapsed atop you, his climax chasing after yours and flooding you with more hot ropes of cum.

He nuzzled into your neck with a soft chuckle, kissing you with such tenderness that you found it hard to remember that he wasn’t human. You welcomed his resting weight on you, enjoying the companionship you could only get through him. The sight of him resting his head on your chest sent a wave of an emotion through you that terrified you. Your hand brushed strands of hair from his face and his crimson eyes met yours. That lopsided smile would be the end of you.

“Why were you avoiding me?” Your tone was lighthearted, but you could see tension enter his gaze.

“I hurt you and wanted to distance myself from you to give you a chance to heal.”

“Bruises are inevitable when it comes to humans, but it hurt more that you just disappeared on me.”

He grasped your hand and laid a gentle kiss across your knuckles. “I’m sorry for that too. But you must understand- your scent mixed with mine was driving me mad. And if I’d let instinct take over, you’d be laid flat on your back for the last week with hardly a break. I needed to let the impulse pass before seeing you again.”

You blushed furiously at his admission. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” he chuckled. “I was coming to you to explain and apologize, but we got a little…distracted.” He rolled to the side, tucking you in against his chest. His hand traced lazy circles on your arm as you laid in companionable silence.

You could get used to this, being in the arms of your dragon.

[kayywaiii]

good person !! ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

{prohero!izuku x neighbor!reader}

summary : after a particularly shitty night and a heroic sleep rescue leaves you keen over a mysteriously kind man, you find him again after a run in with his very not allowed cat.

mood song : carnival - the cardigans (- w - )

words : 3.3k wrds

warnings : light cursing, FLUFF, kissing, tan curly haired izuku agenda, mentions of scars+injury, crushing izuku, light themes of stalking, (not really tho) izuku goes feral for reader, reader has a dog, izuku has a cat, next door romance

authors note: i literally stopped a wip for this bc i just saw the vision like in my near future ... also like i made this cute banner and for what now i had to finish it !! also i was probably riding on the motivation of knowing izuku's the number 4 hero now uh hell yeah

You weren’t making it to class on time tomorrow, you were sure of it. 

God, could their arguing get any louder? Why this late at night? What could it possibly even be about?

Something about rent… and then something else about another girl. Then an entire monologue about heroes and villains… was this guy serious? You stared at your apartment ceiling, two pillows pressed against your ears and a hopeful thought that a lighting strike would just take both of them down ringing through your head. Maybe then you could get a full night's rest, or at the very least, enough for your class tomorrow morning. You promised to yourself that you weren’t normally that violent, just particularly sleepy– and to be fair to them you weren’t a fierce arbiter of the complex rules either. There were three:

No Loud Noises After 10pm Keep Respectful of Complex Property  Absolutely No Pets 

It’s not like you strictly followed all three… you were housing a small dog, Kiwi, even though your landlord made it personally clear that there were no pets allowed. And you tried to get rid of her a few months ago when you first moved in, you really did. But her floppy ears, spots on her cheeks that were reminiscent of freckles, and lightly browned fur had you swooning, and before you even knew it, you were already hiding her toys during inspections. 

So, maybe it felt a little hypocritical to wish death upon the couple on the breezeway outside. Still, you had half a mind to go out there and lecture them until they both worked out whatever grudge they had against each other. A dog was one thing, especially if she never barked, not even once. But these people outside— they did a whole lot of barking. And you almost got up too, clad in your pajamas and all, ready to stumble into the outdoor hallway and curse until your point got across.  But a voice, smooth and decadent interrupted their yelling, so sweet you could practically hear the soft smile he wore. The man coaxed the both of them not only to calm down, but apologize too. And… god, was he making them hug? You were baffled by the sheer volume of the diplomatic people skills this person must have been sporting, you were sure it must be their quirk. Whatever it was it got them quiet enough for you to drift off to sleep, sullen and dreaming about a man that would whisk you away with a smile.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

A shuffling at your window the next morning awoke you, dazed and confused after the best sleep in your life. Something about that guy’s voice just brought you there, damn there hanging off your twin sized bed and drool swept against the inner corner of your mouth. You lifted your head, running a hand over your hair before sliding off your bed to make a quick coffee. You muttered something about a breezy shower and– was the sun shining a little brighter this morning? You swore your copious amounts of house plants looked fuller with life today, your posters of various heroes illuminated and basking in the glory of the bright sun. You swore your small studio looked bigger in a sense, more light as you took out your takeout from the fridge. You stood at your counter, shoveling noodles into your mouth and breathing in this much needed– and much limited– time of peace. 

Another shuffling at the window just above your bed startled you, setting the takeout box down and climbing on top of the bed built into the nook of your room between the apartment and bathroom wall. A small cat purred at your window, eyes wide and big and brown, brushing its fur at the glass. It meows loudly, putting its paw over the hatch and seemingly gesturing you to open your window. Candles and small potted plants lined the ledge of the window, making it hard for you to find the lock to click it open. When you finally did, the small thing leapt through the opening and straight onto your bed. You scoff, bewildered. You weren’t the only person in the complex breaking the rules, you guessed. 

“Hey there, sweet thing…where's your owner?” You scrunch your eyebrows together, watching the cat hop down from your bed and stretch over your floor like it owned the space it sat. It let out a soft meow, large eyes blinking back at you as it skipped over your furniture and picked at your plants. Then, that voice– rugged and clearly fatigued called out from the open corridors outside. 

“Neko?” He spoke, the sounds of clattering pots and keychains ringing from right outside your apartment door. He swore faintly when a pot shattered on the ground. Swept potting mix scattered under your door at the attempt of a makeshift cleanup, the whoosh of stray dead leaves catching the cat's attention and it scratched at the door.  “Neko, come on– I’ve got work…” 

“Is that you? Are you Neko?” You mumbled, clicking open your door. Reflected green shot across your vision, sun rays passing through his curls and painting your apartment walls like the Sistine Chapel. A light breeze whisked past the green’s hair and led your eyes to his tan, freckled face, one that knocked the thoughts right from your skull. He smelled of vanilla and freshly groomed puppies, like something soft you could just flop into, sleep for a little while. He swore, eyes widening at your sudden appearance, and carding a hand lightly through his tresses. Then he groaned, trying to brush white broken clay shards into his gloved palm. 

“Crap, I’m– I’m so, so sorry… I’ll replace this.” He hurriedly muttered, flicking his head down and furrowing his brows in contained frustration. Your breath left your body, face warming in silent attraction as you cleared your throat and leaned over him to check the damage. Hundreds of tiny bits of argil sat at his feet, littered across the breezeway and towards the edge of the corridor. Bits of thick pieces you’d hand painted sat face up on the concrete, and so did the small bud that had been slowly inching towards the complex ceiling for weeks.

“Don’t… stress about it, ‘s fine. Not your fault I was too lazy to take it inside.” You choke up and force a smile, playing with a pimple on the base of the back of your neck. God, you knew you were jittery, watching him stand to his full height and cup the pieces of pot in his clunky gloves. You were hardly able to force out a coherent sentence, nevermind keep up a steady conversation with your next-door neighbor. 

Here he was, donning his hero armor and flowing yellow cape that he barely tucked under grey sweats. Chunky red shoes and gloves that clanked against his midriff, and the designs on his chest were faded and worn out. “You’re– Deku… aren’t you?” 

“Ah–Izuku,” He gives you a soft smile. “I, uh…  don’t think there’s a need for titles, we’re neighbors.” You dorkily nod, keeping your eyes anywhere but his. His presence felt overpowering, yet friendly, fit for the number four hero who not only rocketed in the ranks, but in popularity too. 

“Oh– well, thank you.” You curse internally, wishing this morning would already end. He chuckles, and that only seems to make it worse for the raging embarrassment seeping deep into your chest. He lets out an exasperated huff, shaking his head and keeping a strict eye on the doors down the hall. “I should be thanking you for sweeping this little one up.” He scoops his cat up from the floor beside you before opening his door and pushing him into the room. “He likes to roam.” A fond grin crosses his face.

“Actually– I wanted to thank you… for last night?” Your eyes bounce back up to his, taking in the way his biceps flex with every indifferent movement. Your neck heated up when his yellow scarf, faded and caked in dirt stains, fluttered behind him in the chilly spring wind. And God, you wished he was still tired and didn’t notice your shameless, obvious– and oh so necessary– ogling of him through his hero costume. “It was you wasn’t it? I– was actually able to get the best sleep.” You gushed, fighting the urge to drop to your knees and thank him raucously until the neighbors filed a complaint. It was just that important to you. Your sleep, that is. 

 He stared at you for a moment, before looking at his shoes in modesty and giving you a weak thumbs up. “It’s… no problem, really. It’s still kind of my job even if I’m off the clock.” He shuffled his feet and looked away, curt wind rushing through your thin sweater and making you shiver like a stray dog. You nodded awkwardly, about to retreat back into your studio when his voice called out again.

“I’ve got another way you could thank me!” He suddenly and practically yelled at you, catching a wrist in his blushing hand before dropping his fingers and clearing his throat.

You paused, eyes widening as you looked back at him. His face was visibly red, eyes darting with a nervousness you’d never seen displayed on a pro hero. You flushed, lashes fluttering and you felt so sick. Were you seriously about to throw up in front of him like this?

“Sorry?” You manage to mumble.

“Would…a date be okay?” He swallowed hard, bringing a calloused, gloved hand to his neck and playing with a curl. Your fingers clenched around the handle of the door, blinking in surprise and pure confusion as he watched you carefully, awaiting an answer. The silence was deafening, save for the soft meow and scratching of Neko at the door and the calm breeze whisking past the both of you in waves. Something about his clear nervousness calmed you, giving you enough courage to nod and say, “That’d– be great.”

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

Izuku never had great luck with his words, his passionate spiels saved for the nassiest of villains who’d he believed deserved redemption. He just wanted to be a good person, someone that people regarded as a good man, like All Might. With that, his love for saving others always speaks for him, quickly leaving his mouth in perfect and persuasive sentences. With you, however? It was the most challenging thing he’s ever attempted. It'd been months before he finally spoke to you, and he was sure you hardly even knew he lived there due to your clearly starstruck expression. He’d watched you move in, heard you cursing up a storm over university homework, lugging in packages of dog food– which he knew you weren’t supposed to have. And yet still, he only hyped himself up in the expanse of his apartment, opting out of actually getting to the part where he might ask you out.

And so, he only watched you from afar– that was until today, when he’d haphazardly left his bedroom window ajar for his cat to sneak out and hop onto the flower boxes from flat to flat, keen on taking a rest in a particular someone’s bed. And now here you were, Neko languidly stretching at your feet like he hadn’t just ruined Izuku’s life. 

And Jesus did you look pretty, a thin sweater flanking a tank and pj pants hanging low on your hips. That was it, his life was ruined. He had no idea what to say to you, you who now looked at him with what he could only guess was annoyance at his breaking of your pot. And then you gave him a smile, assurance lacing your tone and a familiar excitement prevalent when you spoke again. 

“You’re Deku, aren’t you?” 

That just about killed him. And you were oh so pretty when you spoke– and when you thanked him profusely– that just about killed him too. 

Izuku scoured his brain, unable to flip through carefully picked notes and instead having to remember ounces of dating advice from Kacchan and Kirishima. His palms sweated and he brought them to wipe on his sweatpants. God, he felt like a highschooler again, that same dork who stuttered over every syllable. Kacchan would be confident, wouldn’t he? Loudmouthed, cocky– there was nothing keeping him from what he wanted. Izuku just had to channel all that. And that should be easy, right?

Shit, she’s walking away! He grimaced, feeling bile rise in his throat, catching your wrist, tongue finally betraying his mind’s first thoughts. 

“I’ve– I’ve got another way you could thank me.” He swallowed and allowed himself to meet your gaze, if only for a split moment. 

“...Sorry?” 

“Do you want to go out with me?” He tentatively asked, breach catching in his throat at your stricken expression. Your face was red, eyes widening in either shock or pure amusement. A cold wind passed, a moment passing seemingly even longer than that. And his breath all but left his body when you nodded and spoke, a smile widening on your face. 

“Okay.”

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

His apartment was quaint, similar layout to yours, save for the bathroom adjacent to his small bed. It was a wonder he could even fit in it, you thought, looking over his height and large arms as he stood at his kitchenette opposite of the door. This setting was a lot more intimate than the first few of your dates a few months ago, your first one being to a nice restaurant, and then a lunch picnic at his agency. He always said he wanted to cook for you, which is why now, a few months into your relationship, he finally felt confident enough to do so.

 The room smelled of sizzling chicken and boiling noodles, the green bouncing from appliance to appliance muttering recipe ingredients to himself. You watched from the small arm chair he’d forced you to take a seat in, a practically offended look on his face when you offered your help.

“Are you kidding me?” He’d gawked. “Sit, I’ll cook for you.” 

So, instead you stared at pictures hung high on his apartment walls, some of his mother and others of his former classmates. Dynamight still wore his signature scowl, even as a teen, and Shoto timidly smiled for the camera. Izuku, clad in his UA uniform beamed bright, messy curls hardly kept like bright, flickering fire catching a swift air. It reminded you of your friends at secondary school, enthusiastic and eager for the world the new heros had promised. And Midoriya’s passion all but reassured you that promise would be kept. 

A short curse came from the man and the sound of glass shattering made your eyes flick up to him, his eyebrows scrunched tightly wound as he tried his best to flick the pain from his hand. You rose, quickly moving to where he was crouched near a broken glass jar and a large gash was present on his palm. Neko stretched atop the counter, eyes slit and a guilty meow coming from him. You sank next to Izuku, looking over his wound and bringing a cloth hanging from the oven to his cut. “Thanks…” He muttered, an embarrassed look in his eyes when they finally flicked up to you, to your sympathetic focus. He had to admit though, you looked really pretty up close like this. 

“Damn Neko.” He chuckled and you followed suit, helping him up and to his bathroom. It was a simple four by four, the mirror decked with motivational sticky notes and inspirational All Might posters. He blushed even more, clearing his throat and coming to a stand in front of the mirror, standing taller over the posters. “Bandages?” You asked, too preoccupied with his palm to tease him about it. “Under the sink.” He answered, voice cracking and eyes widened when you sat him down on the toilet. A comfortable silence washed over you and you as you rushed warm water over the previously used cloth and pressed it to his hand. His hands were warm, soft– apart from the countless scars littering his skin. This one, this one was just another notch added to his countless array. 

“I never pegged you for the rule breaking type, Midoriya.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a teasing smile and he gave you a soft one back.

You rummaged through his cabinet while he watched in barely contained awe. He held his wrist, now dripping with blood and a swallow bobbing his throat as he nodded. “He’s a stray. It was cold– and it was raining… I couldn’t find it in me to leave him alone.” 

“That… sounds just like you… actually.” You chuckled, running the cloth under the water again and watching the clear liquid turn crimson. 

“What, a hero?” He wore a half-hearted smile, eyes flicking between you and his palm.

“Mm… a good person.”

His heart stuttered in his chest, breath slowing while he watched you press the bandage across his rough skin. He didn’t wince, not because it didn’t sting, but because he couldn’t help but redirect all his senses to you. His chest warmed, spreading throughout and up his throat like a liquid. You were too good and apparently you thought he was too. 

“A good person, hm?” 

“Of course.” You hummed, oblivious to the rising warmth of his cheeks and the goosebumps prickling on his skin. Did you not know how much you affected him? 

And he can’t help but lean down and capture your lips with his, leaving his bandage half lifting in the hurry of his passion. He pressed his hand to your thigh and then under it, effectively lifting you and on to his lap. Izuku tilted his head, delving deeper as you cup his freckled cheeks and giggle a soft, surprised sound. 

“Izu–” 

A strangled groan left his lips at your nickname, a knowing grin smiling into his mouth. You pushed back with just as much fervor, running your fingers over his scalp and sinking them deep into his curls. You whined when he pulled back, pressing chaste pecks to your neck and collarbone and cheek, seemingly drunk off the mere thought of you. His eyes were glazed over, hair tousled from your fingers running through it and he kept pulling you closer like you were about to disappear. He’s clearly timid, shy– but he clumsily presses his lips onto yours like he’d known to do this his entire life. 

It’s only when he hears the smoke detector ringing that he pulls away,  slipping you off his lap. He presses another kiss to your face before going to the kitchen where smoke pillows, lifting off the now burnt food and straight into the detector. He curses once more, fanning away smoke like his life solely depended on it, trying to calm the device before it annoyed the neighbors enough to contact the landlord. He carded a hand through his hair, watching you softly giggle at the entire fiasco. He let out a somewhat dejected sigh, giving you a sloppy grin and sliding across the room to cup your face. 

“I’m– sorry about dinner, love.” He exhales, but can’t help but give you more kisses on your jaw and cheek. He seemingly couldn’t pull away, large hands locked onto you like a wayward lifeline. 

“It’s cool, Zu… let's order takeout, mhm?” 

And Neko yawned, meowing in agreement atop his wooden dresser.

[izjeon]

GONEGIRL.

athlete!jungkook x f!reader

𖥻 genre: s2l (strangers to lovers?), fwb (friends with benefits), pwp, and university au.

𖥻 rating: 18+

𖥻 word count: 3.2k

𖥻 warnings: [MINORS DNI] afab/f!reader, heavy infatuation, they basically stalk each other, a lot of sexual tension, smut is literally the plot, many mentions of wet dreams, debatable infidelity, reader has debatable morals, jungkook & reader are horny, switch!jk (but he does most of the dominating) and switch!reader, a lot of making-out, hickeys (f.receiving), reader lowkey has a praise kink, hair pulling (m.receiving), jungkook whimpers, extra beefy jungkook, dry humping… and they get caught.

a/n: this is not proofread, but why is standing next to you such a bop?? helped me finish this after months of it being stuck in the drafts. also, to whoever told me to stay in the basement, i couldn’t stick to my word, pookie 😔. enjoy!

series masterlist: GONEGIRL

chapter one - ‘slowburn?’

𖥻 GONEGIRL

you knew who he was.

jeon jungkook: the senior that all the freshmen drooled for and the senior that all the seniors wanted to themselves. as a senior yourself, you couldn’t say he didn’t intrigue you. he was a sporty guy, winning national and global championships in track and wrestling for fun on the side. obviously, his matches were the most popular in viewership across the university. the golden boy, he never once failed to add another gold medal to your university’s esteemed profile.

so, you knew who he was, but you couldn’t understand why his eyes were stuck on you and only you.

you’d first met him at a party held by one of his close friends, namjoon. you were introduced briefly and didn’t exchange any numbers or socials. but, that following morning, jngkk_97 followed you on instagram. and, from that day on, he was the first guy to like your posts, the first guy to view your stories and the first guy you knew of to not slide into your dms.

with his intriguing, yet unexpectedly distant, behaviour, he found his way into your mind— 24/7. so, every morning, you awoke, gaslighting yourself into believing that the thought of his pink, pouty lips on yours didn't actually send you into a midlife crisis. they just made you a little faint.

every single night, you tucked your fragile mind into bed, losing yourself in hazy dreams branded by the thought of jungkook's touch. but, after a few weeks of contactless flirting, you let the idea of him go.

because you’d been told he had a girlfriend.

although it usually took a lot to do so, you felt the cowardly urge to give up on your infatuation. it'd been more than 2 weeks of mutual stalking but, still, no message. you guessed, he just wasn't as desperate for you as you were for him.

and you didn't like that. so you quit your daily routine of streaming his instagram and greedily watched as he kept up his own stalkish routine, consecutively failing to direct his focus back onto his girlfriend.

the same gorgeous girlfriend sitting with him on a black and cushy beanbag, radiating as she spoke to the other students around them. and that's when you realised, not having each other's undivided attention must've been a thing in their relationship.

because, his doe eyes of false innocence were only on you.

it was the first time you were seeing each other in person after namjoon’s party.

you stared back at jungkook through the wide, unglazed window in the separating wall between the kitchen and the living room. even with his supposed girlfriend of 5 months on his lap, running her fingers through his hair, his eyes were only on you. you scoffed, chuckling to yourself.

he would be fun.

leaning back on the kitchen counter of jennie’s apartment, you tilted your head to the side. intrigued, you watched as he did the same, copying your actions with a lopsided grin. now, you didn’t have the best eyesight but you weren’t so blind that you couldn’t tell that he was clearly hinting at something. something that would land you in a very taboo situation.

and you loved that.

you lifted your plastic cup to your lips and turned away from the athlete sitting at the other end of the room. you downed your drink as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. you looked around for your best friend and there she was, face deep in boobs.

as you made your way to the couch she was sprawled on, you realised the athlete had disappeared from his girlfriend’s side. curious of where he’d disappeared to, your eyes ran across the packed apartment, desperate for the sight of him.

and there it was, the something.

he was standing near the front door and his girlfriend had gone to sit with other seniors. it looked like he was exchanging goodbyes with his friends.

he was leaving— without his girlfriend.

“jennie, i think i’m going,” you mindlessly whispered, eyes stuck on the 5’10" hottie with his foot out the door and doe eyes drifting back across the crowded room. then his eyes were on yours again: a silent exchange of words.

“already…?” a drunk jennie whined, lifting her face from the deep cleavage of her girlfriend. “wait,” she mumbled, eyebrows scrunching into a sobering expression, and squinted her eyes at your side profile. “you think?”

satisfied with your decided future, you turned back to your best friend with your lips curling into a sly grin. “no, i know.”

she lazily propped herself up on her girlfriend and whined, “but how’re you gonna get home~?”

the front door slammed shut.

“i’ll find a ride.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

jungkook picked at the zip of his thin bomber coat. he was leaning against his black benz, waiting.

ever since he first laid his eyes on you in that little backless, black dress, jungkook knew you were trouble. you were a distraction; more distracting than the pending termination of his current relationship; and much more distracting than the thought of joining the national track team again. you were a parasite living in his mind.

he practically breathed you. when he woke, you were his first thought. when he felt compelled to open instagram, you were there. even when he would try to escape you in his sleep, you were there. he could barely last ten seconds sinking into the thought of you. if you let him sink into the reality of you, jungkook would cease to exist.

jungkook groaned, throwing back his head. he thought he would be fine and perfectly content with your instagram and your daily occurrence in his dreams (sexual or not), but you just had to show up at this party— held by your best friend. how was he supposed to know you guys were best friends? now he was actually waiting for the real you and he could feel himself going mad. he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands to himself and he could already feel the consequences of his future actions creeping up on him—

“who bought that for you?”

his ears twitched.

his heart lunged and his eyes found yours in an instant. but jungkook’s always had a wandering eye.

his eyes almost instantly fell to your body, trailing over your exposed cleavage in your white dress, and then dropping to the high slit on your left thigh, almost exposing your crotch. you were some type of angel for sure.

he was fucked.

jungkook was fucked the moment he met you; the moment he spent over an hour scrolling through countless instagram accounts to find yours; the moment he couldn’t dream of his own future without you showing up; and the moment he began to pray you showed up in his dreams every night before bed.

he was fucked because he feared once he had a hold on you, he would never be able to let go.

a man’s logic.

“my dad,” jungkook finally replied, pulling himself together. “he decided i needed a car— because i run 24/7. and there definitely cannot be a cheaper and better car than a mercedes benz.”

his sarcastic tone made you smile.

“that’s cute,” you smiled.

it went silent.

“do you need a ride?”

“don’t you have a girlfriend?” you rebutted with a smirk. truthfully, part of you didn’t care about his answer. you were an addict in front of a line of coke. you would get what you wanted one way or another.

“ha,” he chuckled, lowering his head in what you thought was shame. your question put jungkook on the spot. and you knew cheaters never worked well when put on the spot. but jungkook looked up with a wincing smile and corrected you, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

oh.

“we’re… complicated.”

now, jungkook wasn’t sure that choyeon would’ve given you the same answer. they weren’t together, but she acted as if they were. and he didn’t make much of an effort to correct her. so, he guessed he was still guilty. but he only felt guilty to a certain extent. he’d already chosen feeling guilty about hurting choyeon rather than missing an opportunity to get what he dreamed of.

what he fucking craved.

the sound of your heels getting closer to him kissed jungkook out of his thoughts. oh, you seduced him: the feeling of your manicured fingers gently grabbing hold of his chin and slowly lowering his clouded eyes to yours.

you whispered, “how complicated?”

jungkook held his breath for a second or two. how complicated were they? well, he knew they were complicated enough for him to forget about her in your presence and only remember her when you asked him to. however, they weren’t complicated enough for them to not be in some sort of a relationship.

but he decided it didn’t matter. when it came to you, she didn’t matter. he realised how beautiful your eyes looked under the moonlight. they glistened with the false innocence jungkook knew would ruin him. after all the nights of imagined panting, moaning and fucking and mornings of bitter reality, post-clarity and cum-stained sheets, jungkook burned for your touch.

fuck, he could almost taste you.

as if you could read his thoughts, your awaiting finger finally fell onto the his plump bottom lip, sweetly kissing the man out of his stupor. your eyes left his and fell to where your finger slowly traced across jungkook’s soft, pink receipt of kisses.

that’s when his lips parted, and he whispered, “as complicated as you want.”

at his answer, your distracted eyes flickered back up to his awaiting, hooded eyes. that’s when you, too, realised how dangerous your infatuation had gotten. just the sight of those buttered chestnut eyes and the intoxicating feel of his slow exhales on your skin forced you into a reality where you lacked even the smallest control over your own body. but, even more dangerous, was how little you cared about the way you drowned in his presence. but then again, you never did learn how to swim.

you smiled, letting your hands fall back to your sides.

“i’ll take that ride.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

the ride back to yours was almost silent, only filled with random whispers of directions coming from jungkook’s gps system. the voiced map directed him to your address and, yet, everything else pointed his eyes to you.

jungkook took a glance at you. he watched you; he watched you with your elbow propped up onto the rolled-down window, relaxed upper body peeking out into seoul’s night. he saw how you leaned further into the wind licking at your cheeks when he pressed on the gas, a hint of a smile wavering across your partially hidden face. he watched you in the silence, accepting his loud need— his loud need for you.

and he didn’t even know you. but jungkook couldn’t seem to find the rational sense to care. he knew you were a ‘stranger’ but, fuck, you’d overwhelmed his entire existence. you had damned him to the crucifying point where he actually felt the need to breathe you— to accept every single inch of you into his being— and he had no idea why. even as he glanced in your direction for the hundredth time, he couldn’t dare try to understand how you’d done this to him.

once again, as if you could read his thoughts, your head turned, lost eyes running over the lavender lights in the car. and like a key, your wandering eyes pierced his and locked his gaze onto yours.

“you’ve arrived at your destination,” the gps announced, breaking the exchanged glance. jungkook turned back to the road, and you turned back to seoul’s night.

“mm, just here,” you hummed, pointing to an empty parking spot in front of the tall apartment complex. maybe it was just human curiosity, but you found yourself mesmerised by the way he smoothly slotted the benz into the empty space.

fuck, everything he did was hot.

the sound of the engine’s hum softening into a quiet mew reminded jungkook of the anticipation clawing at his skin. it clouded his senses. but when his eyes flitted back onto you, yours were already on his.

he watched your lips part, and stilled as your next whisper left a trail of wet kisses across his mind.

“come up with me.”

𖥻 GONEGIRL

“thanks,” you started, slotting your key into auburn door’s lock. turning to catch a glimpse of jungkook’s dewy eyes behind his black locks, you smiled and continued, “for the ride.”

jungkook’s lips quirked into the same lopsided grin from earlier. “you’re welcome,” he replied.

it was silent again.

with those hidden eyes still on yours, jungkook’s tongue slipped past his lips, running over his bottom lips. your gaze dropped to the pink tongue flitting across those pink, pillowy lips of his, and you sunk. those lips forced you into a familiar daydream where all that mattered was letting your tongue glide across his bottom lip until you slipped in, fucking his tongue with yours— tasting jungkook.

you needed a taste.

you glanced back up into his prolonged stare. then your hands were falling from the keys in the door, fingers smoothing across the nape of his neck and cheek, and tugging his lips down to yours. but jungkook’s hands were already cradling your hips, touch-starved fingers pressing into your sides, as his lips met yours first.

it was a gentle yet deep peck. a peck was quick: it allowed jungkook to draw back for two crucial seconds and let his clouded vision run over your expression. alluring eyes looked up into his gaze and jungkook could finally see it: your mutual desperation, the hunger, and the torture. it was all he needed to see before his finger was tilting your chin up once more, and his lips were taking you in.

from brushing his tongue past yours to savouring the taste of alcohol on your tongue, jungkook sunk into the taste of you. but he didn’t know if he could go any longer without sinking into you. his hand left your waist cold, fingers fumbling with the keys in the door and failing miserably. “no,” you rushed, lips barely leaving his. “turn them to the right.”

after hearing the click of your stubborn door unlocking, you were all over each other again. you stumbled into your apartment, hand quickly muddling with the light switch, with jungkook hurrying after you, tossing your keys and his suffocating jacket aside.

his daring fingers smoothed over your ass, kneading the soft, clothed skin, before lifting you to his hips. a deep hum of approval rumbled against your lips as your legs wrapped around him. but, in this position, your little dress had ridden up, exposing a white thong snug to your weeping slit. and who on earth would jungkook be if he didn’t cop a feel?

lifting you up once more to adjust his arm, the tips of jungkook’s fingers slipped under the white lace, fingers grazing across your supple ass. feeling his fingers inch closer to your needy cunt, your breath hitched and the dull stir in your core began to hum, itching for more than a simple touch.

and, as if he could read your mind, your breath was forced from you, head falling onto the lush cushions on your sofa. wafts of mint invading your senses, your hazy eyes took in how beautiful jungkook looked above you— like it was where he was meant to be. and he realised the same, the apartment’s warm and amber lights cascading through his locks and clouding the irises of your tempting eyes.

in that still second, both you and jungkook came to a silent agreement. your dreams couldn’t compare to reality.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

you blinked. you knew you were beautiful— of course— but hearing the phrase trickle out of jungkook’s pretty mouth felt…different. your eyes followed his as his gaze fluttered across your face, brows furrowing as if he were in awe.

“kiss me,” you begged, and he obeyed.

greedy, jungkook’s kisses were everywhere— on your swollen lips, before tumbling down your jaw to the middle of your neck, littering a trail of bruising hickeys. and you couldn’t do anything but moan, whimper, and sink into his sweet touch.

“oh, fuck,” you whined, head tilting back into the plush sofa. your fingers pushed through the thick rift of hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it. but you never would’ve expected such a pathetic moan to leave his throat, rumbling into the sweet spot right above your collarbone. you paused. his moan echoed in your mind— a repeating succulent sound. so, you tugged a little harder, relishing in how he muffled a guttural whimper into the base of your neck, “mmf, fuck”. but then his hips began to move against yours, revengeful, and you realised how fucked you were— and would be.

jungkook had a bulge that made you wonder; wonder how he crammed that shit into his boxers; wonder how he lived a seemingly normal life with it; and wonder how he would struggle to cram that cock into your sopping mess of a cunt. so, as he ground down against your erect clit, your hips bucked up into his fucking, eager to measure the sheer size of the hidden dick. “oh, please,” you whined, thoughts stained by the way he licked a hot stripe across your ear’s helix, boner perfectly smushing down against your clit.

bruising lips barely touching yours, half-lidded eyes cruelly watched as you rode up into his clothed cock and stuttered moans so pathetic your cheeks burned, glazed eyes brimming with tears. he was already fucking you so good, and he hadn’t even touched your bare pussy yet.

oh, jungkook ruined you. with a hand trailing down your heated sides, he sent your body into a rabid heat, his touch only licking the wet flame ruining your ability to think. and when his hand finally cupped your leaking cunt, thumb circling over your pulsing clit, you were already begging pitiful whimpers. “please, please, please—”

“___?”

your bodies stilled.

a voice that was not yours or jungkook’s echoed throughout the apartment, piercing the thick haze that’d swallowed your minds whole. you blinked, stare slowly lowering to jungkook’s stunned stare that was already on you. his doe eyes wrinkled into a smile as his lips pursed into an awkward grin. the cringe was evident on his face; he was a grown adult getting caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar.

jungkook’s head slowly raised and turned, peeking over the sofa to see your intruder and his cockblock. then he froze. still hidden from the eyes of your cockblock, you eyed his expression, confused on why remained still, eyes wide, lips pursed and ears burning red.

who was it?

begrudgingly, you shuffled out of jungkook’s caging arms, propping yourself up on your elbows, and looked over the sofa, ready to kick out your cockblocking neighbour. but who you saw wasn’t an unfortunate neighbour you could just dismiss. in fact, the person you saw made you the unfortunate neighbour because there your best friend stood, mouth agape and only a foot into the apartment.

“oh, fuck. well, um. oh wow,” jennie blubbered, feet awkwardly wobbling over the door’s threshold. now, drunk jennie didn’t have the best memory but she could’ve sworn she’d warned you about jungkook’s relationship status. so, as you watched the cogs turn in her head, her brows furrow and her eyes squint, darting between the both of you, all you could do was blink and smile.

“…what the fuck?”

gg: ‘slowburn?’ - fini

[stellati0n]

dan heng being bad at feelings, the sequel.

started writing this pre-1.3, so i am once again emphasizing that i am making shit up. (well, 1.3 dropped while still working on this and the TB mission was rather lacklustre, so i'm gonna half ignore it).

sorry for any typos/mistakes/whatever, most of this was written at dubious hours of the night.

contains. mild-moderate canon divergence, dubious jing yuan shenanigans, dh being somewhat down bad. i dropped a bit too much spice in, so it is no longer “mild”. take that as you will.

7.5K words. THIS IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING.

here's the first part in case you haven't read it. you're still not the trailblazer.

tags: @akhiran @cypunk-0 @fiona782 @seelelovesbronya @bleakqblake @xiaos-poems

this place is not a place of honour. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here…nothing valued is here. Below 15, DNI. Go away.

the next day, you awoke to a feeling of emptiness at your side. any part of the bed that your limbs weren’t splayed upon was long cold with dan heng’s absence. you were alone, still left in the nest of sheets and pillows he arranged himself. it couldn’t have all been some kind of fever-dream, could it? 

no, any such possibility was dashed when you looked at the messages on your phone. one unread, left two hours ago. 

with the ellipsis and all. oh, the self-inflicted misery. (does he really consider every single person his enemy?) you sighed, swinging your feet off the side of the bed to get up. if you knew him well enough, then you already knew the next little while was going to be tricky, to say the least. it was obvious what his plan was from the beginning, with him abandoning your side at the sun’s first rays: avoidance. 

and avoid you, he did. in the denouement after phantylia’s attack, he still had to be around you, but the stiltedness he carried with him was palpable. he made a point to stand as socially acceptably far from you. it was almost like he was acting like a ghost solely to you. elusive, non-communicative, only seen out of the corner of your eye. perhaps leaving you with the lingering feeling of being watched, and ultimately gone before you could even call his name. in fact, he quite literally ghosted you. he wouldn’t even respond to your messages.

once the day after the final events rolled around, you thought that maybe he would have had enough time to finally be able to face you again, but no. apparently he elected to confine himself to the archives the moment he returned aboard the express. however, this didn’t deter you from going knocking on his door. 

"dan heng?" you tapped on the sealed door. your ear was right up against the frame, listening intently. 

whatever shuffling was coming from within fell still at your voice. 

"dan heng, i know you’re in there. i just heard you stop moving." 

there was more silence, then followed by a sigh. "did pom-pom not relay my one request?" 

"no, they did. told me that i’m not allowed near the archives."

"yet you’re still here…" his voice was strained, and distant from the door. he must have been sitting either at his desk or on his thin, messy futon. beyond that, it was hard to imagine what he was doing in there, or even what he looked like. it was surprising. you thought he struggled to control his form, but it seemed no problem when he wasn’t with you. so was he the regular old dan heng sitting in there? or the vidyadhara that laid next to you that night? 

"you really think i’m gonna listen? i never do." you squared yourself further towards the door. "now, c’mon. we’re already talking, so can’t you just—" 

"n-no, i can’t," he cut you off. "i… i’m sorry, but not here, and not like this." 

"can you at least tell me why you say you can’t be around m—?" almost as if on cue, in came an angry pom-pom inbound like a squishy freight train. 

"hey! what did pom-pom just say?!" they cried. "can’t you follow one simple rule for the time being?"

as pom-pom ushered you away from the archives with weak thumps to the back of your legs, you grunted to yourself. you were tempted to chuck them in the opposite direction, but alas, such a thing was not in the cards for you. after all, it would be wise to not tempt fate with the conductor. things seemed like they were going to be more difficult than you anticipated.

░░░░░░░

early the next morning, long before either march or stelle would rise, you shuffled your way into the parlor car in search of food. if it was going to be anything like yesterday, you were anticipating being the only one in the parlor car. however, to your surprise, there was another person present when you silently closed the door behind you—dan heng. he was in his regular appearance of shorter, fluffy hair and his regular attire. you sighed as quietly as you could, staring at the back of his head that leant on his wrist, propped up on the table. seeing him staring dejectedly at the food was a sorry sight.

the unspoken tradition you had with him was that when the whole express wasn’t eating together, it’d always be you two sharing your meals together. it began when you first joined the express—after dan heng himself, but before march. left adrift as a vagrant amidst the stars, you were all too familiar with the feeling of loneliness. it was always at its worst when you managed to gather together enough scraps to resemble the meals you used to eat in your old home. to you, when possible, meals were something that should be shared in the company of others. so when you first saw dan heng sat alone on your first proper morning aboard, you saw part of yourself in him. a part that you wanted gone, now that you had a new home. so you sat yourself down next to him, your own food in hand. you were met with some minor (albeit polite) resistance, but you being the stubborn ass you were, would not have it. you knew your persistence was risky, but it paid off. not long after that, he would wait until you were sitting with him. 

so to see that sight left you saddened, but also vehemently annoyed. normalcy was out the window thanks to this baffling, self-imposed restriction he had against you. as quietly as you could, you stalked up behind him. moving as lightly as possible felt like it was the only way possible to get closer to him. it wasn’t like he developed a sudden allergy to your presence or something, was it?

you were successful in thwarting his pre-occupied senses as you reached the velvet couch. but maybe you were too successful, because he almost leapt out of his skin when you planted yourself down next to him. you leaned against the table and spoke. "how about us talking if it’s over breakfast?"

he did manage to calm down, but not by a lot, and not enough to give you a reply. his expression was still frazzled as he struggled to keep himself in place. 

"can you please tell me if i’ve done something wrong? i don’t understand why we’re suddenly like strangers again," you said, reaching out to put your hand atop his one that was clenched at his side. but he snatched it away before you could feel the warmth of it.

"it’s my fault. you’ve done nothing," he said. "but please, i need some time before i can talk to you properly."

he turned to get up and leave, but you caught him by the sleeve. "w-wait, by why?" you trailed off, voiced far weaker than intended.

the look he gave you was weird. it was a jumble of confused emotions, but the most you could make out was nervousness. you had no idea what that light flush could have meant for you. his mouth parted to make some sort of reply, and you could have sworn you the glimpse of sharpened canines. "since when have you had fangs in this appearance?" you blurted out after doing a double take.

his eyes flared wide open and a hand flew over his mouth. "s-since never." with that, he slipped from your grasp. "please excuse me."

you watched incredulously as he walked out of the parlour car and back towards the archives as if he had wooden knees. you had no idea what just happened. rejection, you supposed. but considering how he was that night, it made no sense. nothing about this made any sense. 

whatever it was, it was slowly eroding your patience, leaving you biting the inside of your lips in irritation. it’s true you were doing some type of avoidance when his alternate form was finally revealed, but it was nothing of this calibre. it was almost impossible for it to be the case with dan heng, but if this really was some kind of petty revenge, he may as well have whipped out a steel chair after you knocked shoulders with him.

░░░░░░░

your shameful failure of an interaction left you in need of recuperation. you hadn’t felt that irked and downright baffled since one of herta’s curios fell on your head. so now, you were blathering a ranting tirade at stelle and march over some snacks, all in the parlour car. "i swear to whatever aeon’s listening, he’s turned emo or something." you folded your arms across your chest, sinking down in your plush chair. 

"like he wasn’t before?" stelle mumbled, not looking up from whatever gacha game she was playing on her phone. 

"eh, not really. he does have his moments, though." march shrugged, grabbing a single chip. "but yeah, i’ve never seen anything like this. it’s so weird, he almost never avoids you like this!"

"hence why i’m so confused."

"things seemed to get pretty tense between the two of you after he had his magical girl transformation," stelle added while shovelling a handful of chips into her mouth, still not looking up. "then maybe… the day after phantylia, he got even weirder."

"yeah, like, he won’t go near you for some reason, but he keeps staring at you so longingly and sighing like you’re the last cookie in the jar and he’s been told he can’t have any more!" march said with the melodramatic flourish of a swoon.

"that one sounds like it’s based on real experiences." stelle cast her a sideways glance, to which march let out a sniff and wiped away a dry tear.

"just how much has he been doing that?" you muttered, unable to comprehend. 

"a fair amount from what i’ve seen. he’s looked like a kicked puppy every single time," march said. "well, as much as dan heng can look like a kicked puppy." 

"not that he’s particularly talkative, but i’ve tried asking him about it. was only met with howling winds of jarilo-vi’s everwinter storm." stelle placed her phone down on the table and sat back with her arms crossed. "but now, he’s just being straight up weird. (y/n), what’d you do to him?"

"yeah, i mean, he won’t even eat in the mornings if you’re there!" march cried. 

your nails dug into your knees as you looked at your lap. you could feel a heat creeping onto your face as you recalled him so close to you. his words still rung in your head. if they were true, then what the fuck was he doing now? "i—i don’t really want to say, since it’s between him and i," you said. "but some pretty… significant things happened, i guess."

march suddenly drew in a comically loud gasp. "DID HE FINALLY CONFE—" she began, but you clapped your hand over her mouth before she could finish. 

"must’ve," stelle said, leaning forward with her hands on the table loosely clasped in front of her. 

"it wasn’t… exactly like that." your voice was low. your attempts to protect your dignity were feeble at best. it’s true, he never explicitly told you he has feelings for you in the classic format of ‘i like you’, but… who were kidding, it was a confession in all forms except literalness. you grabbed at your face, hiding the creeping heat behind your hands with a groan. 

"no, it was totally a love confession. he’s been head over heels for you for a while now! even when i first met you two, it was so obvious he had a big ol’ crush on you. how’d you not notice it?!" 

"cuz they’re denser than dan heng." stelle deadpanned, staring right at you.

"if you’re going to be making indirect insults about me, at least do it to my face," a familiar voice muttered from somewhere a distance behind you. in walked dan heng, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. he was once again in his normal appearance. stelle immediately squashed you down beneath the square table, leaving you only to look at everyone’s legs. 

"oh, so the elusive dan heng finally graces us with his presence, huh?" you couldn’t see march’s face, but you knew she was making a half-lidded, unimpressed frown at him—the certified march classic.

"i’ve had a lot of information to collate and put into the archives, so i’ve been busy—" his words stopped short. from around the bend of the chair’s edge, you could see him inch closer to the table. 

"been busy what? you just stopped talking." march sounded confused. 

"is that… (y/n)’s scent?" his tone was far sharper, but his wording sounded unsure. 

"are you calling them stinky? that’s kinda rude, isn’t it?" march frowned. 

"huh? no, of course not!" he sputtered. "it’s just v-vidyadhara senses. they’re quite acute." there was the shuffling of some fabric. he must have crossed his arms.

"well i say it’s cuz you’re going heehee-silly-delulu with your big fat crush on them." march chimed in. your eyes widened as you frowned. why were they both baiting the literal dragon?

the only sound that came out of dan heng was something like an indignant cry that was cut-off at its head. "i… i do not—"

"you don’t like them? alright, keep telling yourself that," stelle said. 

"…what hand does (y/n) have in this? they were just here, weren’t they?" he took a few steps towards the table. you imagined him with a strained look on his face, fighting to keep his composure like he yesterday. as he was stood right in front of you, you felt yourself shrinking back. it was maybe only seconds until ground zero—until everything hit the fan. "because that’s their scent nearby…" he changed his footing just a touch, and the second you saw the tips of his fluffy hair peak down past the table, you launched headlong into him. not by your own volition, but because a heeled boot slammed into your lower back, jetting you forward. your face collided with some part of his legs (of which was not very soft), sending you both in the same direction with simultaneous cries. there was a significant thud when dan heng hit the floor, and your head knocked into something bony.

your eyes cracked open, rubbing your forehead with a groan, but all sounds fell silent when you realized you were hovering between his knees. you stared up at him with wide eyes and a stifled breath, where he met your owlish gaze with his own. in other words, you were almost right between his legs. both of your faces lit like infernos, but neither of you moved. a grand total of two seconds passed before the vidyadhara features came out. it was quick—his horns rose from his head, and his hair spilt over his shoulders. his tail appeared behind him, laying still. even his clothes suddenly swapped out on him. his chest rose and fell as his breath seemed to quicken. 

"s-sorry," you swallowed thickly. in almost an instant, he dug one of his clawed hands into his arm. he clambered to his feet, unable to look you in the eye.

"wh-what the hell was that?" his voice cracked.

"fuck, that was my bad." stelle said from behind you. 

"ngh, you… please excuse me," he quickly turned and strode back towards the archives, still holding onto his arm. you hadn’t moved from the floor when you watched the passenger cabin’s door close behind him. 

"what the heck, stelle?!" march cried, startling you.

"holy fuck, i’m so sorry. i did not think it’d go like that," stelle said. when you looked back over, she was leaning back and had raked her bangs back, hand still on her forehead.

"how did you think it’d go?" you groaned, unsteadily raising to your feet once again.

"i dunno, but not like that."

"why’d he suddenly change like that, i wonder?" march tapped her finger to her chin, looking off to the side. 

"cuz he’s down bad." stelle looked very confident in her answer. 

you almost choked on your spit.

"he’s down bad, but then he keeps running off 'cuz refuses to let himself be so."

"what kind of a theory is that?!" march huffed.

"a simple observation. mr. yang says i’m perceptive, so i have final authority on all judgements ever made." stelle crossed her arms over her chest, face seldom making any expressions. "and i say exactly what i said."

you stood with your head hanging in your hands, burning with embarrassment. things couldn’t keep going on like this. if this was the new dynamic, then how were any of you supposed to function while you’re out trailblazing? how were any of you supposed to function even just normally? that was it. you raised your head until your eyes lifted from behind your hands, a new resolve filling your blood. maybe jing yuan might know something. 

░░░░░░░

managing to secure a time to speak to jing yuan was unbelievably easy. then again, you should gave guessed it’d be. over messages, he told you that since he’s been doing nothing but resting, he’s incredibly bored—someone to see or speak to is more than welcome. and so, it quickly was organized that you could stop by a planned location in aurum alley to see him.

the time soon rolled around, as long as it took. during the day, as expected, there was no sign of dan heng having any interest in interacting with you normally, much to your growing irritation and mild chagrin. even march and stelle were shaking their heads and clicking their tongues in disapproval. 

it didn’t take long for you to get there. you agreed to meet him in a small, secluded area, just out of the way of eyes that might seek to pry into the general’s private business. it was a bit into the early evening. it wasn’t too hard to find him sitting at his table since he wasn't exactly the most conspicuous person out there. the golden artificial sunlight poured in from an oblique angle overhead, coating the tucked-away courtyard in a honeyed light. once he saw you approaching, jing yuan cast you one of his usual sleepy, cattish smiles. 

"um, hello," you spoke, pulling out a seat next to him. 

"and to what do i owe the pleasure?" there was almost a purr in his voice. "tell me, what is it you wished to speak about?" he leaned forward, resting his head on his wrist propped up on the table. "or did you simply come here to chat with me because you felt like it?" he made a closed-eyed smile laced with mischief. 

"ah, i’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s because i’m having a bit of a dilemma." you scratched the back of your head with an awkward laugh. "please hear me out on this one, but it’s about dan heng." 

"oh, dan heng? what about him?" jing yuan tilted his head. "as it stands, i’m afraid you might know him better than i do, unfortunately. so i don’t know if i would be able to provide the best of help for you." there was a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips, making you bite your own. 

"it’s, ah, a little more about him as a vidyadhara, i suppose. i’m not sure if he has anything in common with his previous incarnation, but i thought there must be something there." 

"well, i can say his obstinance seems to have certainly survived reincarnation."

"it’s thriving," you huffed, at which jing yuan lightly laughed. 

"so is that the root of your problem? him being too stubborn on something?" 

"that’s about it, yeah." you pressed your lips into a line. "he’s been avoiding me for… reasons i won’t divulge… and i don’t what i can do to get him to talk to me again." 

"you don’t need to put it like that. i can tell he really likes you," he said, the trace of a smug grin on his face. after you coughed loudly, he continued. "he’s rather obvious if you know what you’re looking for. but anyway, what happened between you two? if i’m allowed to know, that is." 

you swallowed nervously. should you really be revealing everything like this? you did it anyway. "one night, we said a few things of… i guess questionably romantic nature to each other, and he reacted in a way that i think was influenced by some sort of… vidyadhara shenanigans."

jing yuan looked at you with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "go on." 

"he hauled me off to his bed and then got uncharacteristically affectionate. he had a back-and-forth with self-doubt once he realized i was really confused by it all, but i told him it’s fine. i mean, i even pet his horns out of my own volition and stuff." it was all coming out at this point. "then he eventually drifted off and then pretty much declared his feelings in his half-sleep. but even though i told him i’m fine with him doing whatever he was doing, he still decided to run off the next morning. i’ve tried to talk to him repeatedly, but he won’t reply to my messages and he almost freaks out every time i’m in his vicinity. i don’t get it!" 

"mm, that’s quite the situation on your hands there," jing yuan hummed. there was a mischievous spark in his eye, and you weren’t sure if you liked the look of it. "now, i couldn’t tell you the specifics, but if you say he got ’uncharacteristically affectionate’, then that’s definitely some old vidyadhara response. they can get very protective over the things they love." 

your gaze dropped somewhere in front of your as your face prickled with heat at his words. 

"but now, i’d wager he’s stuck in some sort of self-imposed battle of will against himself."

"and how would you suggest i get him out of it?" 

"i suppose there is technically the option of waiting this out," he glanced at your face. you looked embittered at such an inane suggestion, making him laugh. "or you could simply make him lose the battle, since it sounds like he’s set on taking it ad infinitum, if needed." 

"small issue… i’m now allowed near the archives," you sighed, leaning yourself back. "it’s hard to simply go there with both the conductor banning me as well as dan heng refusing to open his door." 

"hmm…" jing yuan shifted his hand beneath his chin. "might i do something a bit uncouth?" 

"uhh, okay." 

"come here for a moment." he slid himself next to you, turning to face you a little more. with a slight frown, you turned towards him as well. "now, i can’t guarantee his reaction to this, but—" he suddenly pulled you closer toward him and placed his head in the crook of your neck—the same side dan heng had his. one hand snuck its way around your neck and held the base of your neck ever so gently, while the other looped around your back. you had to fight a shudder when you could feel jing yuan’s lips ghost over your neck and shoulder. "if i do this, it may be enough to knock him from this cycle of his." 

"wh-what?" you strained out. 

"he’ll be able to tell i’ve been with you. and by the places i’ve been in contact with you…" he said, voice low. his faint breaths were cool on your shoulder. you couldn’t suppress a slight shiver. "…it should be enough to grant you access to… the archives, was it?" 

"y-yeah." you blinked a few times. your brain had been reduced to a single cell bouncing around inside your brain like a shitty maraca. 

jing yuan finally pulled back, assuming his original pose. "please forgive me for that… but you’ll likely see why i did it." he still couldn’t help but wear his usual small grin for the second part. "i’d now recommend that you find him again, and try to keep his attention long enough for him to notice you were with me. vidyadhara’s senses of smell are perceptive, so it shouldn’t be long. well now, you’d best get back then." his stupid grin was even wider and even smugger. his gaze wasn’t condescending, but read more as if he were thinking just wait and see.

"i… guess i’ll be going then. th-thank you, general." you made an awkward bow as you hustled back the way you came, hyperaware of the air brushing against your shoulder. it all felt incredibly foreboding… but that was to be expected when you were about to enter the dragon’s den. 

░░░░░░░

your plan was flawless:

1. jing yuan does his shit

2. go back to the express. 

3. bait with bubble tea to get the door open. 

4. "talk" to dan heng long enough until he notices jing yuan was up to something

5. ???

6. profit. 

just as detailed, to further your chances of getting that door cracked open, you decided to buy a bubble tea. a classic milk should have sufficed, since he tended to favour the more simple things. the chances of him actually opening the door to take it were already slim, but desperate times called for desperate measures. knowing him, he’d simply make you leave it at the door, which was a problem. so there you were, stuck on an express couch, plotting. (or, perhaps more aptly, chewing your nails in nerves). as you sat there, in waddled pom-pom, looking mighty chuffed for some unknown reason.

"hm-hm-hm! dinner of pom-pom’s own creation will be ready in just over 20 minutes!" they declared, puffing their stuffed chest. they waited for any reaction, but no one looked up at them, making them deflate with a scowl. "stelle, (y/n) you go tell everyone," they grumbled, shuffling back into the passenger cart and beyond. 

"wait, what?" you looked up—you hadn’t even noticed them. 

"we’re on messenger duty," stelle said from her seat. she was placed upside down on the couch, hair grazing the ground while she played her usual gacha games. 

"can i try and deal with dan heng?"

"i mean, sure." she looked over at you. "but what’re you plotting?"

"my entry into the archives. i come baring gifts." you motioned towards the untouched bubble tea sitting in front of you. 

"i’ll leave you to it. i’ll go tell march and the others then." she chucked her phone elsewhere on the couch and got up, wandering towards the passenger car. you followed shortly behind, offering in hand. 

it was a short walk. you knew you were being dramatic, but you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous the closer you drew to the archives. you had already weathered so many rejections, so it’s not like this was going to somehow have a worse result. perhaps it was because you put too much on this. you’ve gone to a rather large effort just to have a slim chance of getting him to open the door—speaking of, you were already there. 

you raised your hand to knock on it, but before you could even lay your hand on it, dan heng spoke from inside. "what is it, (y/n)?" he was once again somewhere further off in the room, speaking with undecipherable emotions. 

"um." your voice cracked, making you cringe. "pom-pom said dinner’s ready in 20." 

"ah. thank you," he said plainly. it still kinda stung, being back at what felt like the stage where you were only acquaintances. 

"i also got you something." you tried to cast another line. 

"you can leave it at the door." 

you flopped your head against the door. of course he said it. "i’d rather give it to you now. it’s some bubble tea. the ice is melting." there was no response. you couldn’t tell what he was doing. "c’mon, it’s not like you’re sick or something." 

"hah, more like lovesick," stelle called as she walked past behind you. 

"stelle!" dan heng cried indignantly. he sounded closer to the door. "i am not—"

"if you’re not, then open the door." she simply kept walking. 

you were stood with wide, unblinking eyes and an open mouth, watching her jacket pass through the cabin door until you were left alone in the hall. the door suddenly slid open a little. you jumped, turning to stare up at him. as usual, there was a strained look on his face that he was trying to suppress. "see, i’m not—" he looked out and around for stelle, but she was nowhere to be seen. instead, he simply sighed. 

you tried to swallow your heart beating in your throat, but it still hammered away. "hi." 

he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the inner door frame. "hello," his voice sounded tired. tired with himself. "please forgive me for how i’ve been acting. i know it’s not fair to you. it’s just…" 

"i know, you need more time. you like to say it," you muttered with a slight, strained grin. "by the way, here’s your tea. it’s just your usual order." you held it out it to him, and he looked down at it with softened eyes. as he went to grab it, his fingertips brushed over yours. he seemed more startled than you, but after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand back over top of yours.

"i haven’t been completely honest with you," he said. (that was certainly one way of putting it).

you held your breath, as if making a single noise could suddenly startle him back into the archives. 

"i… since that night, i haven’t known what to do with mysel—" he suddenly paused, frowning the tiniest bit. he leaned forward, seeming to concentrate on something with closed eyes. once they opened again, his pupils had constricted into slits, and he was staring intently at you. uh oh. 

"wh-what is it?" 

"where were you before this?" he took the tea from you and placed it somewhere next to the door frame inside the archives. 

your stomach flipped. was this really going where you thought it was? "um. i was wandering around aurum alley." it wasn't a lie. "why?" 

"that’s not all. what else?" he took you by the arm and drew you into the archives. it was an uncharacteristic mess in there. low-lit, and with clothes, books and items were strewn all over the place, perhaps as a reflection of his state. you watched the door close behind you, and when you looked back, there stood dan heng with his full vidyadhara look on display, right in front of you. uh oh. 

he stepped closer to you until you could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him, then grabbing hold of your shoulders. it was a tight grip, but not enough to hurt yet. he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and drew in a long but quiet inhale. "what were you doing with jing yuan?" his voice was low, almost with a slight growl. as he spoke, his arms had wound around shoulders, so he was holding the back of your head, just like jing yuan was. only far harsher than the other’s ghost-like touch. 

yes, this was going the direction you thought it was. "we—we only met to talk about something," you sputtered out, your heart in your throat again.

"then why do i smell him on you, as if you were doing something more than just talking?" with a free hand, he took your jaw and turned your face towards him. he was only inches away from you, gazing at you with narrowed, dimly-glowing eyes. "why go to him when you have me?" 

you frowned, eyes wide. "huh? what do you mean i have you? you’ve refused to speak to me normally ever since the morning after you hauled me to your bed. besides, i-it’s not what you think." 

but your words were lost on him. "no, this won’t do." his voice was barely a murmur. he seemed to be living in his own version of the world. dragon-brain was back, evidently a fuller force than ever. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t him drawing you even closer, placing his head in the crook of your neck and nuzzling. your face lit like an inferno as some kind of noise escaped your lips. it was really back to the nuzzling. only with surprising fervour, this time. he nestled his face into your neck, exhaling small sighs against you. his nose and lips brushing against your skin was almost ticklish, but you weren’t laughing when his tail snaked itself around your hips, twining itself down one of your legs. 

"d-dan heng?!" you cried when he suddenly lifted you with his hands clasped beneath the backs of your thighs, assisted by the tail. he had his mouth placed right over top of your collar bone, watching where he was going from over your shoulder. "dan heng, put me down!" you had to hold onto his back and shoulders for stability. 

he gave you no reply, only taking you back to his mussed futon. similar to his bed at the inn, the blanket was strewn in a way akin to the base of a nest. stray pieces of clothing made up the rest of lack-lustre structure—you could have sworn one of your own old shirts you’d forgotten somewhere was poking out from beneath a different article. dan heng sat himself down in the centre of the futon and brought you into lap. your position was a bit awkward as you sat perpendicular across from him. both your legs went one direction while your torso was turned to face him. he sunk his head into the crook of your neck again, drawing in more, shorter inhales. 

"seriously, wh—what are you doing?" 

"he’s still on you." he said against your shoulder, warmth breath making you shiver. there was a slight growl in his throat again. 

"even after that?" as you spoke, he tilted your head away, exposing more of your neck. "hey, w-wai—ah!" you made a cry of pain when a pair of fangs suddenly bit down into your shoulder. it wasn’t hard enough to draw much blood, but more than enough to hurt. you shuddered with some ungodly, almost harrowed noise when his tongue glided over what would blossom into a bruise. his arms and tail wound tighter around you, as if you might slip away at any second. he moved on, this time toward your jaw, peppering it with desperate kisses. you tried to say his name as he trailed down in between his own rapid-growing breaths. he was panting once he reached your shoulder, his kisses sloppy. in some work of miraculous dexterity, he had readjusted your seat on him until his waist was slotted between your legs. all the while, one hand was in your hair angling your head for his best reach, the other around your back. you had to hide your face in his hair when he had began making small vocalizations, something like tiny whines. 

you said his name again, this time louder when he trailed his fangs back up your shoulder. right after he left a hot kiss on your shoulder, he bit down again. you seethed in pain, trying to push his head off, but you were only met with purrs. even though he didn’t seem fully aware of what was going on, those purrs had to be weaponized against you. he shifted to another part of your shoulder, mouthing another kiss on it, but before he could bite, you grabbed his horn.

"dan heng!" you yanked his head back, surprising him. but instead of some sort of pained cry, he let out a heady moan. to your surprise, that noise slipping from his mouth seemed to restore his lucidity in an instant. his dilated eyes shot wide open and his hands flew to cover his mouth, almost sending himself backwards in the process. his face burned with embarrassment, colouring his cheeks and pointed ears in a bright crimson. you huffed, but didn’t remove yourself from your position. in fact, you anchored yourself down by locking your ankles behind his back if he were to try and push you off.

"(y/n) to dan heng, can you hear me?" you said, almost tempted to knock on his forehead. 

"i-it happened again," his voice was quiet in horror. 

"hey, i need you to listen to me before you clam up on me again." you brought one hand to the side of his face, gently making him look up at you. he jumped at the contact, sending his hands further up his face until they were covering his eyes. 

"please forgive me," he rushed out.

"look at me," you said softly, placing one hand on top of his to move it to the side—one of his faintly glowing eyes glanced at you. "i’m more happy to make out with you, but we need to talk first."

he made a strangled groan of embarrassment in answer, moving his hand back in place again. 

"are you listening?" 

he nodded.

"alright, the whole thing with jing yuan was me asking about you," you said. "i thought he might know a bit about you as a vidyadhara and your behaviour, so i went to ask what i could do to get you to let me into the archives. his idea was a less than tactful, but i guess it worked. that’s why ‘his scent was on me’, as you say. he only stuck his head on my shoulder for a bit because you’d be able to tell and then demand an explanation or something." 

his fingers had parted to show his eyes again, and they were staring in bewilderment. 

"so, i’m sorry for doing all that to you." your voice was soft. "i just wanted to see you."

"no, i should be apologizing. i have no control of myself and i haven’t been fair to you." he lowered his hands to hovering somewhere over his chest. "i was saying before… since that night, i have been an embarrassment. all i’ve wanted to do is steal you away and… smother you in affection until you returned it. the feeling was so intense that i didn’t trust myself around you, so i hid. i thought if i waited, it’d calm down, but it really only made it worse."

your heart swooned then and there, lighting a fire in your cheeks. "o-oh… so if i did return it, then you wouldn’t act like a lovesick ghost anymore?" 

"hey." he frowned, but his face soon fell back into the same flustered expression from before. "but to answer you, maybe after a while. i could also just get worse… but i really don’t want to subject you anything you don’t want." while he couldn’t meet your gaze, he still leaned his head into the palm of your hand. with a sigh, you held his jaw and angled his face to look at you again. 

"how many times do i have to say i don’t mind? you can’t seem to fit that one through that thick vidyadhara skull of yours." you did actually knock on his head this time, making him wince.

"i—i don’t know, i just get embarrassed." he hid face his face against your chest, face a shade redder and his ears drooping. "you also always look so shocked. i don’t want to do that to you." 

"that’s only because you tend to forget any kind of warning," you said with a light laugh. "truly, i like it—when you give me warning, that is—because i really like you too, stupid." 

his breath audibly hitched, and he raised his head back up. "t-too? but i’ve never said—" 

"are you kidding? you don’t need to say it when the aeons and their grandmas know. even march says it’s obvious. you’re seriously worried about that after you’ve made out with my shoulder sloppy style? by the way, what was with the bites?"

"ngh, don’t word it like that." his tail that was still tangled around you thumped against your back indignantly. "…and the bites are a weird territorial thing. i’m sorry if they hurt." he leaned his head against you, running his thumb over one of the marks.

"dragons…" you sighed with a smile. "you’re lucky you’re so cute." you pet his hair, and he leaned into your touch.

he moved his chin so it was on your collarbone, looking up at you with softened eyes. there were almost stars of reverence in them when he gazed at you. "i love you."

"wait, wha—" you began, but he swallowed the rest of your words when his lips were upon yours. he pressed himself up against you, his hands gently holding the sides of your face. as he kissed you, there was a faint rumbling and vibration coming from his chest—he was purring.  

he pulled back again, leaving you a little short of breath and a lot dazed. you’d always thought it’d be you that had to kiss him first, not the other way around. he began to leave another trail of kisses starting from your lips to your jaw, this time leading toward the other side he had already been. your hands fell from their place on him and inched onto his back while his lips were on your neck. one hand slipped into his back window, and he suddenly gasped. his back arched into you, almost knocking you over. he panicked, and his tail constricted behind you like another set of arms to catch you. 

"what was that?" you laughed, trying to re-steady yourself. 

"your hand was cold. i don’t know, i guess i have a sensitive back," he huffed. his ears were angled down and a flush was heavy on his face. you couldn’t really articulate what it was about him, but you were suddenly overcome with cuteness aggression. you leaned your weight onto him, sending him backwards onto the futon and—perhaps somewhat out of revenge—hovered yourself over top of his hips. he stared up at you with widened eyes and a held breath, frozen and waiting for your next move. 

"you said i need to return your affection, didn’t you?" 

he swallowed and nodded the tiniest bit. 

"so let me have some fun too, my beloved." you placed a hand on his cheek.

"wait, you heard—i actually said that?" it almost looked like steam would start rising from the top of his head at any point. 

"heard it loud and clear." you smiled to yourself, leaning down and managing to get your fingertips into his chest window—only for the door to slam wide open. 

"hey, it’s dinner! what’re you two even doi—!" march called, leaning her hand on the doorway. you and dan heng leapt off each other, landing on the opposite sides of his futon. march stared in silence for a long while before lolling her head back. "jeez, finally! anyway, can you two wait until after dinner? pom-pom’s ‘bouta blow a gasket waiting for you two."

"w-we’ll be there in a minute," you said, trying to readjust your collar to try and hide dan heng’s bite marks. 

"don’t be long!" march said as she strode back off down the hallway. a couple beats passed and you looked over at dan heng. by some miracle, he’d managed to swap himself back to his human look, but he still looked disheveled as he went to stand back up. 

he held a hand out to you and pulled you up, pausing for a moment. he glanced at the bite marks on your shoulder that still peaked out, made some sort of strained sound and then removed his coat. "they don’t need to see that," he said as he strung it around your shoulders, fixing the collar so it hid the marks from sight.

"i’m wearing your coat. march saw us before. if she learns something, it’s guaranteed to be said," you deadpanned. "they’ll know."

instead of giving you a direct response, he took your hand in his and lead you out of the archives, looking at you with what was probably meant to be a neutral expression. his light flush and knitted eyebrows betrayed him though. "can we at least pretend we have dignity?"

"i mean, sure, but it’s not gonna do anything, looking the way we do. now c’mon, don’t wanna keep the conductor waiting." you walked off with him in tow. 

he only made a small groan in response again. 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Soulmates with Peter Parker? 🥺💕

.⋆｡Arachnophobia｡⋆.

Peter Parker x plus size reader

Who knew that moving to New York could be just the kick the universe needed to fulfil your destiny?

Warnings: fluff, soulmate AU, explosions WC: 876

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

6k Celebration Bingo

Well this spider doesn’t hate you.

Those were the words that appeared along your collarbone the day you turned 18. The black lettering was just barely visible when you awoke that morning but by lunch time, all of your friends were poking fun at the strange phrase now permanently branded into your skin. You glared at them as you told them to back off and that you at least had an interesting soulmate if their first words to you were as strange as that.

But a nagging part of your mind wondered if they were right, if the person that burned with the same flame as you did was some kind of weirdo. As the months went on, you imagined countless scenarios where those six words would be uttered to you. Maybe at a frat costume party where they would be dressed like a spider. Or they were your next door neighbour and they saved you from a stray arachnid that had made a home in your kitchen. Or maybe they were just really into spiders in general. Needless to say, your obsession with your soulmate's words had slowly developed an aversion to the insects, going completely out of your way to avoid them just in case your soulmate was a weirdo like your friends had predicted.

Three years after you finally escaped the social wormhole of high school, you moved to New York City. With a scholarship under your belt and dreams of going to a college that could handle more than 300 students, you moved into a tiny dorm right at the edge of Columbia’s campus. You were excited to chase your dream but first- you needed groceries.

With headphones fitted tightly against your ears, the deafening sounds of the city blurred around you. You weren’t really sure exactly where you were going but it was early afternoon and your phone was fully charged, so what was the harm in wandering for a while. 

New York City opened up before you, the skyline glittered with thousands of windows and bright lights capturing your gaze no matter where you turned. It was all so exciting and rather distracting. You were ignorant to the commotion building behind you, until a strange heat licked at the back of your neck.

In a second, your world went completely upside down, literally. The only warning you received before the wind was knocked from your lungs was the blast of some sort of explosion and then, the world zipped by you. Someone had a firm hold on your thick waist as dots of light swirled around you. You clung to them, your head spinning as they lifted you higher and higher, until it all suddenly stopped.

Gravel crunched under your shoes as you stumbled forwards. A hand curled around your wrist, keeping you upright. You crashed into his strong chest. Your eyes slowly came into focus as the ringing in your ears faded. Sirens filled the air yet all you could think about was the insignia of a spider splayed across the red suit right in front of you.

“God I hate spiders.” The white eyes of his mask widened comically as you heard his breath stutter. His grip on your waist tightened for just a second.

“Well this spider doesn’t hate you.” The world stilled in that moment. You leaned back just enough to look into his eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Neither did I, I mean I am Spider-MAN and you hate spiders.” Heat crawled up your cheeks while you bashfully glanced away but quickly looked at him as he laughed. Something deep in your chest came to life with his laugh, quickly spreading through your veins and making your heart flutter with a whole new emotion. 

His gloved hands slipped down to the small of your back. You could feel the way his body shook with adrenaline, just the same as yours was. “Maybe I don’t hate this spider.”

“I could be venomous.” You shrugged, your fingers slowly creeping up the expanse of his torso, feeling the toned muscle that lay just beneath his suit.

“As long as you don’t bite, I think we’ll be ok.” His mask scrunched up where you imagined his lips would be.

“I-“ Another explosion rocked the building beneath your feet. He tore his gaze away from you. He sighed heavily and reluctantly took a step back. “I have to go.”

Your touch lingered on him for as long as you could, almost fearful that he would completely vanish the second you let him go. “I know.” The tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of your hips.

“I’ll come back, I swear.” His voice cracked. 

“Go save the world Spidey and I’ll let you take me on a date.” And with a gentle kiss to his masked cheek, you fully broke away from the other half of your soul. 

He jumped onto the ledge of the building you stood atop of. “Just so long as there’s plenty of flies for me to eat.” And as he swung away, your laughter still ringing in his ears, Peter was suddenly glad that there was one person in the world who hated spiders.

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[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire — human blood bank

s3 p8

adult content may be featured, read at your own discretion

pain. that’s all you felt to have you waking up in excruciating pain. agony. it felt as if you were being eaten from the inside.

with your mouth gaped open, your eyebrows scrunched, you crawled to the bathroom to not alert a sleeping heeseung beside you.

you didn’t even get to the door of the bathroom when ni-ki barged in, startling heeseung awake as you collapsed to the ground.

“what the fuck?” heeseung yelled confused, half awake as he threw the covers off of his body, running to where ni-ki kneeled on the ground beside you.

“what’s—what’s happening?” you gripped ni-ki’s shoulder in pain, which actually caused him to let out a yelp.

“what kinda strength got into you?” ni-ki groaned in pain. you took your hand off of his shoulder to grip back on the carpet beneath you.

sunghoon and jay soon ran into the room as well, jake, sunoo, and jungwon not too far behind.

“what’s—,”

“babe, the baby, it’s,” jay began and you looked up at him in fear.

“it’s what jay!” you screamed in agony, hoping the baby wasn’t dying.

“it’s eating you, in simple terms.” sunghoon stepped up.

fuck. you thought for a moment, would you rather have the baby be dying rather than eating you alive?!?

“mhm, no better.” you shook your head. “what—make it stop!” you cried.

“the only way to make it stop is by making a deal with sunwoo’s brother.” hyunjin’s voice sounded from the door way.

how the hell and when did he get there? these men and their quiet footsteps made you want to put bells on them.

“no. i’m not doing that. i’ve watched supernatural.” you groaned.

the pains started to subside, and from your knees, you sat back on your butt, heeseung behind you as your back leaned against his chest and you sat in between his stretched legs.

“why does she need to make a deal with him?”

hyunjin thought for a moment. “i don’t think now is the right time to explain what i believe sunwoo and his brother are up too. she needs rest. we will want to include her in the conversation, for her safety and awareness. let’s continue this conversation in the safety of our world tomorrow. i will stay here. in simple terms, i have a demon radar so i’ll know if his brother tries to come near this house.”

you just wanted to sleep like a normal person for once. and now, you were regretting this pregnancy. you wanted a family, but with your boys, not these two random ass insane men.

ni-ki looked over to you with worry, “sleep, not worry.” he stated and turned to walk out the room. and for once, you were also scared.

you took in a deep breath, hesitating before speaking, “ni-ki,” he turned to you, eyebrow raised. “can i sleep next to you, please?”

“that also may be best. their imprint may protect her from the crazy ass brothers from entering her dreams.” hyunjin added. “remember, imprints do not mean sexual. it’s intimacy and comfort which can mean many things, like kinship, emotional intimacy.”

heeseung helped you off of the floor and kissed the top of your head. “get some rest.”

you walked close to ni-ki, “i’m not cuddling you,” ni-ki said while rolling his eyes.

you frowned and slapped his head. “again, why did i have to imprint with you?”

ni-ki flexed in cockiness, with a smirk he said, “because i’m a special vampire, sweets.”

you rolled your eyes and walked to ni-ki’s room, “your room better be clean and free of condoms on the floor!”

when you awoke the next morning, you had to literally push ni-ki off of you, as he held you tight like he was cuddling his favorite duck plushie.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

along with you and hyunjin, all seven of the boys came with you to the other world.

“love, don’t even think about flirting with chan and his clan. you may be with child, but i still will not hesitate to punish you.” jay warned.

“ew.” ni-ki groaned in disgust.

you pouted then smiled, “jay, you know you are the only one for me.”

as soon as you all got there, chan and felix greeted you all. heeseung and ni-ki quickly went off with jeongin, sunoo and jungwon went off with seungmin and han, lastly jake and felix going off who knew where. leaving you, changbin, hyunjin, sunghoon, and jay.

however, you were quickly forgotten as all men went straight to talking about how to help you. you quickly got bored, and whenever you tried to speak up they would just ignore you and or jay would give you a look of ‘not right now.’

you were bored and annoyed. why do they even bring you here if you can’t even do anything? maybe you should’ve went off with one of chan’s clans. at least they would’ve kept you somewhat entertained.

you quietly got up from your spot, none of the boys even noticing you doing so. quickly, you found yourself out of the main house, and walking in the back yard.

the yard was overflowing with greenery and flowers which helped you feel calm about the whole situation.

was the baby literally going to eat you alive? was the pregnancy and even wanting kids worth it anymore?

no.

you swallowed. you couldn’t just get rid of the baby. it was a supernatural creature, it wasn’t that easy.

you ran your hand down your face in frustration, coming to a small body of water behind the house.

you sucked in a breath, “sunwoo’s brother, if you’re listening, i don’t want this baby anymore! you hear me!”

“too bad cupcake.” a deep voice came from behind you.

like speed of light, you turned around facing sunwoo’s brother. “i don’t want to be pregnant anymore if it means this child will continue to make me miserable.”

his eyes narrowed. “sunwoo did this for you. i thought you wanted a child?”

you shook your head. “no like this, not with him or you or whatever. i wanted a child with jay or sunghoon.”

“you mean the monster who killed me? you really want your child to be an offspring of a blood lusting freak?”

“watch it!” you pointed in his face. “how did you even show up? im sure chan has this place on lockdown.”

“you voyaged just enough to where you are out of the boundaries of where they keep a tight ship.” he smiled.

you frowned. “how do i get rid of the baby?”

“by making a deal with me.”

you swallowed. “what kind of deal?”

“just a deal where i get rid of the baby for you and in 10 years your soul belongs to me.”

“how do you get my soul?”

“i kill you.” he smiled. “and it will be painful cupcake.”

“i—,”

“no!” you heard a voice yell from behind you. turning, you saw ni-ki, heeseung, and jeongin.

“what the fuck are you doing!” ni-ki yelled at you gripping your upper arm, pulling you away from close proximity of sunwoo’s brother.

the brother smiled. “your girl doesn’t want the baby anymore. i was just about to make it happen.”

“absolutely not. she’s not making a deal with you.” heeseung added. he was angry alongside ni-ki.

“you need to leave before i call our guards on you.” jeongin snipped.

“i am not breaking any rules. she’s the one who ventured out of bounds.”

you pulled your arm out of ni-ki’s hold. “i do not want to be pregnant anymore! i’m miserable!” you cried.

“too bad, you’re not making a deal to get out of it.” ni-ki said.

“we’ll figure out something, okay? something that doesn’t make you give your soul to him in 10 years.”

“good luck with that.” the brother grinned. “cupcake if you need me, you know where to find me.”

you all watched as he disappeared back into the water. your breathing got heavy as you started to bawl. your tears ran down your face so fast, making it hard to see out of your eyes.

not only were you upset, but you were angry yourself. heeseung tried to help you up, but you took your fist hitting along his chest.

“fuck all of you!” you screamed. “i wish i never met any of you! i had a normal life doing normal things and you all ruined it!”

heeseung tried to get you to stop but you wouldn’t. you were past trying to be calmed down. the last few years finally catching up to you, realizing you’d never live a normal human life. you’d be surrounded by mythical beings. you’ll be giving birth to one.

they only pursued you for your blood. do they even really like you? love you? care for you?

“watch it!” ni-ki’s tone was clear as a warning.

“get out of my head!” you screamed at him. going up to yell at him next, he looked at you in the eyes, eyes changing colors and that’s all you remembered before you went to sleep.

ni-ki quickly learned his powers and used them to put you to sleep. he looked to jeongin and heeseung who’s mouths were open in shock. ni-ki shrugged. “well, she’s not yelling anymore is she?”

“yeah but—,” jeongin began but didn’t know what else to say.

heeseung crossed his arms. “you’re carrying her back to the house.”

ni-ki rolled his eyes, but easily threw you over his shoulder, your head to his mid back. “whatever. let’s just get back before she wakes up.”

the walk to the house was quiet, as jay and sunghoon obviously in worry wondering where you had went off to. they both were pacing as chan and hyunjin was trying to calm them down.

“looking for this?” ni-ki asked throwing you on the couch in chan’s office.

“you could’ve been a wee bit more gentle.” chan mumbled.

“where did she go?” jay asked running to your sleeping figure. sunghoon stood in his spot, his worry diminishing.

“if you all paid attention you’d realize she was bored and went for a walk. out of the boundaries.” ni-ki’s eyes looked at jay and sunghoon. he didn’t look impressed.

“what happened?” hyunjin asked.

“she almost made a deal with sunwoo’s brother so she could get rid of the baby.” ni-ki crossed his arms. “if it wasn’t for our imprint she might’ve gotten away with it.”

“why is she asleep?” sunghoon asked.

“she wouldn’t stop yelling and hitting us. i helped her take a little nap to cool off.” ni-ki turned around to walk off before looking over his shoulders, “she wished she’d never met us and questioned our loyalty to her.”

at that, sunghoon and jay’s heartbroke.

“we need to do something and fast.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

© this work belongs to sugarushwriting | please like, reblog, comment, send messages, all of it!!

hehe not proof read

hehe i got ideas

[xoxochb]

— my kind of woman ꣑ৎ‧₊˚. warnings: literally the most tooth rotting fluff ever please make a dentist appointment!! pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos a/n: had this song on full blast writing this 🤗

you were like a dream. how could it be at all humanly possible for someone to look this utterly ethereal as they slept? percy was fully sure that while he slept, opposed to you, looked like a tornado had gotten to him. but you… looked like before your head hit the pillow you had purposely did something to make yourself appear nice looking as you slept. but you didn’t, you only left your bed about three times a day— but he supposed being a daughter of hypnos has its perks. as you’re peacefully in a (he hopes deep) slumber, percy trails his finger over your features delicately. beginning at the top of your head, trailing down your locks as they fall over your shoulders, then over your tactical features and down to your neck, and stopping when his finger meets the collar of his shirt you had been wearing

he smiles at the remembrance of when you had taken it for yourself. you had stayed at his cabin that night, the night prior he had been wearing it but when you saw it in the morning, discarded on the floor, you put it on and wore it back to your cabin. since then it had been claimed as yours. it didn’t matter to percy though, he believed it looked much better on you than it ever had on him. gently, he placed a tender kiss to the crown of your head and pulls you impossibly closer into him

but with this, you begin to stir. his smile quickly diminishes as he realizes it had been him that awoke you. he frantically apologizes, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to wake you up. go back to sleep, angel.”

“you already woke me,” you murmur in still a half-sleeping state (but when were you not in a sleepy state?). percy cards his fingers through your hair again to lull you back to slumber

“I know but-” he searches for the right words “but you were sleeping. and you love sleeping.”

“it’s fine, I’m fine.”

“are you sure?”

in response, you hum. in your mind, you knew any moment you’d fall right back to sleep anyways. absentmindedly, you curl yourself further into percy to contain any warmth he can offer. though, your cabin was warm enough— you’d probably wake up in a pool of sweat (that or if percy ever fell asleep, his drool). percy continues his trailing over your skin, now beginning over your knee and up your bare thighs, over the edge of your lacy underwear and underneath your (his— whatever) shirt, tracing over your spine before resting simply on your back, tracing circles

“you’re gonna make me fall back asleep.” your voice comes out muffled due to your face being tucked underneath percy’s chin. he laughs at this, from both the affect he’s having on you and your silent voice

“that’s what I’m trying to do, sleepy”

and he surely succeeded in it

[kaliforniahigh]

It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter - n.s. - bonus scene.

The morning after.

Warnings: 18+ smut (fingering female receiving) and fluffly goodness. These two are so in love it literally hurts.

WC: 2.7k words. (not proofread, sorry for any mistakes!)

Exhusband!Noah and Exwife!Reader masterlist.

Noah awoke with the morning sun filtering in through the curtains. It takes him a while to gather his bearings - and the fact that he's still naked - before he starts rubbing his eyes, trying to get rid of bleariness in them.

It doesn't take long for him to notice he's alone in bed, and if his memories and recollections from last night are correct - and not just a dream his mind had conjured up - he didn't go to bed alone. He remembers vividly the warmth of your body pressed into his, as your breathing evened out and you settled in his arms.

He remembers you stirring in your sleep, and waking him up in the process, just like you've always done, to tuck yourself under his arm, and mutter something about being cold, while tangling your legs with his. Noah always ran way too warm at night and you always feed off the warmth be provides.

He finds it impressive how easy it's being for the two of you to fall back into routine together. Five years is a long time, and even still, as he lays there, arms spread out into where your pillow is, messy, but so soft, he feels like no time has passed at all.

He doesn't let his mind run wild about the reasons why you're not in bed with him, because the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and the soft, yet unmistakable clattering of a pan in the kitchen tells him you're just making breakfast. Besides, you're clothes are still laying on his bedroom floor, as he can observe from his place on the bed.

Gathering the strength to get up and leave the cocoon he's made for himself, he throws on some boxers and sweatpants and heads to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face.

Throwing some socks on his feet, he makes his way to the kitchen, and when you come into view, he could've sworn he didn't know how to breath anymore, because you completely stole his breath away.

You were there, standing in his kitchen, doing the absolutely most mundane thing ever, and he thinks he's never seen a sight so beautiful before.

Suddenly, he's transported back to when you both lived in your small apartment, on Sunday mornings when neither one of you wanted to leave your little nest made of love and comfort. But then, his belly would make a grumbling noise, and you'd laugh at him and get up to put something together for breakfast.

And just like then, you're wearing one of his t-shirts that are absolutely way too big on you, engulfing your entire frame. Your hair is pulled up, and he can see the little wisps escaping from your bun, and you run your hands over them in a futile attempt at keeping them in place. You're so focused on what you're doing, that you don't even notice him standing there, and he takes the time to admire you just a little longer.

Trailing his eyes lower, he can see your bum peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, and it's only then that he realizes that you're most likely not wearing anything underneath, and the thought has his mind absolutely reeling.

Did you wake up with the intent of killing him today?

Stepping forward, he catches you in his arms before you have the chance to turn around and face him.

"Good morning", you tell him, as you wisk the eggs in the bowl in front of you.

Noah nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, and you crane it to the side to give him more access. Lingering a few kisses there, he returns your greeting, but doesn't let you go just yet.

"I see you're still clingy in the mornings", you observe, and you can feel his smile against your skin. He was always like this in the mornings. Usually, his hair was more tangled, since you remember it being much longer than it currently is. Right now though, you're able to reach your hand back and brush the soft strands freely, and the feel of them so soft between your fingers brings you a sense of peace.

Turning around in his grasp, you're met with his still sleep ridden eyes, as he looks down at you. But the expression on his face is one of absolute calm and serenity.

Moving his hands from your waist, he trails them lower, teasing at the hem of your - his - t-shirt.

"Someone woke up a little cheeky today, huh?", he teases and you smile, a little bashful.

"You were sleeping over my panties and I didn't wanna wake you up", you tell him, and even though it was true, you have to confess that it was not the only reason you're not wearing any undergarments right now.

"Mhmm...", he trails off, and you bite your lip and give him a little sheepish, but teasing smile. "I'd say that's not the only reason, though", he says and you fake gasp at his suggestion.

"What are you insinuating?"

"I don't know about you, but that kitchen island looks mighty empty right now"

Before you can even reply, he's picking you up off the floor, and you have half the mind to wrap your legs around his middle before you're being placed on top of the kitchen island. You hiss when the cold marble makes contact with your bare skin, but you don't have anymore time to register the feeling, because his lips are on yours in a matter of seconds.

He kisses you slow and throughout, his firm hands gripping your waist, fingers digging ever so slightly into your skin. Your legs stay wrapped around his middle, and you bring your bodies even closer together, sliding yourself a little more to the edge. You have both hands gripping his face, as if you're afraid to let go and have the moment disappear altogether.

You stay there for what is probably a couple of minutes, but could feel like hours, just enjoying each other's presence. Your hand starts wandering. Over his bare chest. Over his stomach, where he flexes a little at the feeling of your slightly cold fingers over his skin.

When you reach the waistband of sweats, your fingers hesitate a little. Sensing your overthinking, Noah pushes himself into your hands, encouraging your next movements.

Palming him over the fabric, you can already feel his erection, and he parts from your lips to let out a hiss at the feeling.

"I'm the cheeky one?", you tease him, and he gives you an unabashed smile in return.

"Baby, I was hard since the moment I found you in my kitchen"

When you were about to move your hand under his sweatpants, his much bigger one grabbed yours and pulled it away from him. You frowned in confusion, but he was explaining himself before you could complain.

"We'll do that later, ok? I just wanna feel you right now", he says, and you nod, waiting for his next move.

He pushes his t-shirt adorning your body so it rests on the top of your thighs. Gently, he grabs one of your ankles, raising your leg and resting your feet flat on the counter. You're completely exposed to him now, but you don't mind that one bit. Your heart is thumping under your ribcage, and your breathing starts to get a little ragged with anticipation.

He steps closer to you, laying his palm on your face, he rests his forehead against yours, thumb softly rubbing circles on your cheek.

"Breath with me for a second", he instructs you, and you make the effort to follow his calm breaths. "You don't gotta be all anxious. I promise you it's gonna feel real good, ok?"

"Ok", you answer, still trying to take in even breaths.

"Good", he smiles. "Gonna start with my fingers, is that ok?"

"It's more than ok"

He doesn't step way from you, forehead still resting agains yours, but you feel one of his hands disappearing in between the two of you. He starts leaving lazy patterns on the inside of your thighs, sometimes splaying his palm flat to warm your skin.

You spread you legs a little wider for him, and you so desperatly want to bring yourself even more to the edge of the counter just so you can have him where you want.

"Remember to breath", Noah whispers to you, sensing your eagerness.

Deciding to not let you wait any longer, he swipes one of his long fingers between your folds, collecting the wetness pooling at your entrance, and spreading all the way up to your clit.

"Fuck, you're already so soaked for me", he murmus against your lips. His mind is still trying to gather the fact that he gets to touch you like this again.

"I have been since last night", you tell him, voice already hazy as you feel his slow and lazy movements over your clit.

"I remember. Even feel asleep with my cock inside of you, huh?", he teases, remembering how snug and warm you felt wrapped around him as sleep took him under.

"Noah, please", you beg, when he makes no movement to pick up the speed of his fingers.

"Shhh", he places one finger on your lip, shushing you. "I already told you it's gonna feel good". he reassures.

Deciding to be as teasing as he's being with you right now, you open your mouth, and sticking your tongue out, you lick the finger that's placed over your lips, letting out a hum of appreciation in the process.

Noah's mind spirals for a second, and since you want his fingers so badly, he slides one inside your mouth at the same time he slips one inside of you.

"Yeah, that's good. Take both of them", he tells you, breathless. You moan around his finger as he picks up the pace. Wet sounds fill the empty space of the kitchen, and he wants to have you like this for the rest of eternity.

You try to tell him you're close, but the finger in your mouth prevents you from forming full sentences. You don't have to, though, because he can feel every sensation rolling through your body.

"I know you're close. Can feel you clenching around my fingers", your eyes shut close and you throw your head back at the feeling of his fingers hitting that spongy spot inside you perfectly. "Gonna cum so good for me, baby?", he asks, as he removes his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva landing on your neck.

"Gonna cum so fucking good", you tell him, voice strained and you can already feel your leg cramping a bit from being perched on the counter. But you pay no mind to it though, because what he's making you feel overpowers everything else.

"Then do it. Do it for me, baby", he instructs, watching your face closely. You have no energy to keep yourself in a sitting position anymore, your arms holding you giving out, as your upper body lays down on the counter top under you. Noah takes the chance to lift yor t-shirt and spread kisses all over your soft and warm stomach.

He adds another finger, and you moan at the delicious stretch.

"Oh my God, oh my God", you repeat, not being able to think about much else right now. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum", you moan, and you can tell he's saying something, but you don't hear any of it, because your ears are buzzing, and suddenly the cold marble under you is non-existent, and you feel as if you're floating in the clouds.

You don't know how loud you're being, you can't even even register the space around you. You're just trying to catch your breath.

After a few seconds, you start to feel your legs, tired and hanging from the edge of the kitchen island. You can feel warm hands massaging your skin, and when you look to the side, you see him, looking at you like you've just given him the best thing in the world.

Noah pushes back some of the hair sticking to your forehead, trying to smooth it down, and the feeling of his hands on your hair makes your eyes flutter close for a bit.

"Feel good?", he asks, voice low. The space fills with a sense of peacefulness, and he doesn't want to disturb it.

"I feel lightweight", you point out, looking at him once again. "I'm scared I won't be able to walk", you laugh lightly, running your hand over your face.

"You should see how beautiful you look right now", Noah observes, but you shake your head lightly.

"I must look a little crazy"

"You look so beautiful", he pecks you on the lips. "You look beautiful, hot and glowing. And the best part is that you look absolutely mine"

You heart flutters at his words. This feels perfect. Falling asleep and waking up in his arms, trying to make breakfast only for him to sweep you away to have sex. Him making you feel so good and saying everythig you've been dying to hear for years.

"I am yours", you say, reaching for his face and booping his noise, which prompts him to smile even bigger.

"Can I carry my girl to bed so I can finish our breakfast?"

"What about you?", you ask, and you don't have to elaborate for him to know what you're talking about.

"Don't worry, we have all morning", he wiggles his brows, and you let him pick you up off the counter, and carry you bridal style to the bedroom. He gives you a kiss on the lips before returning to the kitchen. You get comfortable under the sheets as you hear him finishing the breakfast you started.

Tag List: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mysterygirl-srl @lacy1986 @dream-machine-love @theanarchymuse95 @missduffsblog @xmads-omensx @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @pipidoll @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @kissestomyomens @hedonist-k1l @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @daemontargaryenwife @h0riz0nsiren @astronoids @flowery-mess @renegadebirch @ashlynnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn @jesuisunchaton @carrieontillmay

[xo2dee]

🗨️ SOLACE

PAIRING: Zayne/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort. WORD COUNT: 877. SUMMARY: Plagued by his nightmares, he could only fight his way through them to make it back home – back to you.

A/N: i have such a soft spot for zayne and he was originally my favorite before i faceplanted into xavier lmaooo. but i hope you enjoy this

LADS MASTERLIST

When he awoke, it took a second to process that his hands were cold.

Not an overstatement nor an unknown occurrence, yet Zayne’s hands varied between declining temperatures brought on by the influx of his Evol and the times his emotions got too intense as his flesh began to warp itself into ice. Ordinarily, it was under control, nothing to worry about as long he kept his thoughts and emotions clear of anything too concentrated or distressing for him to grasp before he was gasping around a (literal) heart of ice – gritting his teeth as he could taste the blood when a shard pierced him too abruptly as he fought the cold encasing along his knuckles. However, there was always a point in his day when it was practically impossible to control his thoughts and emotions, and even with the warmth of your body lying beside him in bed at night, Zayne still could not control how his mind betrayed him as he slept.

Insomnia and his dreams… had never been kind to him, even as you joined him by his side they still persisted no matter how much he thought of different scenarios each and every time he closed his eyes. Oddly, it took a while for him to become accustomed to your body and its heat lying next him, something he normally treasured and selfishly sucked in any time you were standing next to him – even before allowing himself into a relationship with you. It had gotten easier once he stopped feeling greedy each time he’d roll his hands up underneath your shirt, soothing his knuckles along the skin of your back before his nose was burying itself into your collarbone with a shuddering sigh, the chill leaving his breath and his body as you welcomed him into your warmth. And it became second nature to him at some point once you began pulling his body into yours as he slept, waking warmer than ever as his veins remained pumping blood rather than frozen over with his own personal Hell.

Yet, that night as Zanye awoke with a slight jerk from another nightmare, he realized startlingly that his hands were freezing.

It took a moment of his conscious catching up with his body to understand he was still in his bedroom, he was still a doctor – a surgeon, and you existed. As usual, Zayne’s eyes flicked to you – only letting himself exhale (with his body being so cold the mistiness nearly fogged up his vision) when seeing you were still laid there peacefully asleep on your back. The rise and fall of your chest did some to placate him, however it wasn’t to quell the dream behind his eyes as he could only curl his fingers into the sheets for the longing to be closer to you… Though his hands remained too cold to touch you, a fear he’d awake you and turn away to seek your own solace without being bothered but one you’d been there to chastise him for as well…

Still… How many times had you welcomed him with open arms as he fell asleep to the lullaby of your heartbeat?

It’s fine to be selfish for once, Zayne could only think, moving over top of you with his fingers digging into your shirt before he slid them up and around your back and successfully encircling you within his arms as his ear laid right upon the area above your heart. You didn’t shiver, nor did you balk away from him, the only sign of your reaction being the slight skip in your pulse before you sighed and your fingers were gliding through his hair – soothing and welcoming. You were awake, or only acting on instinct to his presence in your sleep, but regardless it remained to have the same effect on him as the ice gradually began to thaw in tune to your pulse and stroking. Another breath of air was puffed out against your warmed skin, not being able to help himself whenever he began to snuggle deeper into your chest and chase after the scent of home written along your skin as your fingers began to massage into the back of his skull with a soothing whisper that burned his ears.

“I’m here,” you sighed out, clasping your hands together on the back of his head to bury him further into your chest.

Yes, Zayne wanted to respond, but found his lips still too numb to move them, I know.

The shadows beneath his eyelids began to dissipate the longer he laid there, and he began to get drowsy the more you soothed him as the pulse in your heart stuttered for a moment before he sighed. You and he were still the same, and you and he still existed within each other no matter how much his nightmares told him otherwise. His cold melting away into your heat spoke enough for itself, and only then would he allow himself to rest peacefully knowing you were still with him and everything else was just his fears manifested within his dreams.

And every time Zayne woke from another dream and could see you, he knew he was home, and you were the solace he fought for within each lingering nightmare.

[aliesbienish]

Rocking the Boat - Part Two

Buddie x Reader AU. Two reluctant dance novices wind up in a beginners ballroom class while on a cruise. Will it be smooth sailing? Not if the cute dance teacher can help it. Part one

Day four - Tuesday

The ship had docked overnight and you awoke to palm trees and turquoise water beckoning from out your cabin window. Your parents had picked the shore excursion for the morning, a trip over the reef on a glass bottom boat. While that sounded amazing, it was knowing afterwards you could relax on the beach and daydream about two of your fellow shipmates which has really put a spring into your step.

You were briefly regaining your land legs as you waited with your family, and other excursion members, to board the smaller boat when you heard your name from somewhere in the line behind you.

Turning around you easily spotted the familiar face towering over the rest of the line. giving your family a quick smile you made your way back towards him.

"Hey Buck, fancy seeing you here. Are you also getting dragged along to this?"

"On no don't let him blame us for this, the idea was all his," his sisters' partner responded - Chim if you remembered correctly. "This man is obsessed with animals. He has been learning about all the native species of fish for weeks."

Buck blushed but nodded his head in agreement. "This area has one of the highest diversity of species in the world. There are species here that haven't been spotted outside these coral reefs and others that have been limited to this area due to changing conditions or invasive species."

"We were initially going to go scuba diving to get really immersed, but this little girl vetoed that so the glass bottom boat was the next best thing," Maddie said running her hand over her baby bump. "Actually you two should sit together - Buck's facts would be wasted on Howie and I. Mainly because we have heard them all."

Unbeknownst to you, Buck gave her a glare for meddling. "I'm sure you don't want to spend the whole trip listening to me."

"Actually I'd love to." You blurted out, purely focused on the chance to get to hear Buck passionately ramble again. "It is that or listen to my Dad make fish puns the whole trip. You'd be doing me a favour!"

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"Okay so see all the bright fish over there that kind of looks chrome?" You nod as you spot the fish amongst the coral, "That's a type of parrot fish. Did you know they are called that cause they have teeth that are so tightly packed it looks like it forms a beak?"

"Oh I see! That's really cool. Always nice when its a logical name"

"Right! And even cooler is that most of the species are born female and then change to male later. And it's the male's that are the bright colours, the females are generally a duller brown or red."

"Oh, so it's pretty likely that this fish is male then?"

"Yeah, and in it's terminal phase".

"I know your friend said you were doing this for fun, but are you sure you aren't a marine biologist?"

"I wish! Just an avid reader unfortunately."

"Then what do you do? If you don't mind me asking."

"I'm a firefighter actually. Not quite as cool,"

"Literally," You joked, "But I beg to differ. You're actually doing every kids dream job."

"Yours included?"

"Absolutely, I wore a firefighter costume three years running for Halloween. Eventually realised it might not just be all cool rescues, but actually is probably very emotionally taxing,"

"Yeah, the good days are great. But when things go wrong its hard. Luckily I have an amazing squad I work with, that really helps."

"I know you probably hear it so often, but what you do is heroic. Not many people would choose to put themselves at risk for others, and certainly not every day. But in saying that I'm certainly glad you are getting a break, I'm sure it is well deserved."

"Me too, but it feels a little bittersweet you know? I love Maddie and Chim but I can't help wanting to have someone to experience this with for myself."

"I understand. It's nice being here, but you can't help but think you are intruding. That it is just a pity invite."

"Yeah, you get it." Buck said, giving a wistful smile before shaking his head. "Sorry, not sure how we got here - might be time to lighten the mood."

"Okay, I think I can help. Do you know that you're not the only one who's done their research?"

"Yeah?"

"So you see those bright red corals there? They're called fire corals. Although they aren't really corals, but are more jelly-fish like!" You begin excitedly as Buck looks on in awe.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The time on the boat with Buck had been amazing, he was so easy to talk to and really just the sweetest. You really didn't want it to end, so as you stepped off the boat side by side you decided to be brave.

"So I was planning on heading to the beach bar, would you like to come?" You asked, pointing around the bay to where sunbeds were set up in the distance. "Only if you want of course, I completely understand if you need to spend time with your sister. Or if you want a break.." You rambled.

"I'd love to," He smiled interrupting your monologue. "Just let me go tell Maddie." He jogged off while you found your own family to let them know. Some gentle teasing followed, but eventually you waved them back on the boat.

"Ready," Buck said making a reappearance. Following the bay around you chatted about the favourite things you spotted on the boat. You decided on a manta-ray, while Buck after much deliberation went with a red sea star.

The walk wasn't long, but it was certainly hot, so by the time you made it to the bar a cold drink was in order. After ordering the cocktails from the bartender you spotted a familiar face on one of the lounges.

"Hey Buck, is that Eddie down there?" You gestured to the sunglass clad shirtless man, sitting alone.

"Oh," Buck licked his lips unconsciously, "I think it is"

"Should we go join him? Do you think he'll mind?"

"I guess there is no harm in asking."

Approaching you gave a little wave, trying to get his attention. Eventually he caught sight of you both an his face broke into a gentle smile.

"Fancy seeing you both here," Eddie said, sitting up to make room on the lounge.

"Small island," You joked, taking a seat across from Eddie.

"Us? This is what you get to do on your day off? Clearly I'm in the wrong gig," Buck said, sitting down beside Eddie.

"I'm really sorry to break the news to you but I don't think dance instructor is a viable career for you Buck," Eddie snickered.

"I don't know Eddie. I think some of the older ladies will happily take any class he teaches."

"Uh-huh. Just older?" Buck said, looking you up and down.

"We all know the answer to that, but I'm not going to inflate your ego further by voicing it." You blushed. "Don't think you'd be short on male participants either to be completely honest,"

"Oh he wouldn't," Eddie muttered, eyes going wide as he realised he said it out loud.

"Don't worry Eds, I don't think I could steal your class away. You have the actual skills, and well to put it frankly - you're hot as hell,"

For a second you felt like maybe you should leave the two men to their devices as they maintained each others gaze - gentle smiles tugging at each of their lips.

"And you?" Eddie asked, turning to you and raising a brow.

"I was never even thinking about overthrowing Eddie and taking the class,"

"That's not what he asked and you know it," Buck quipped, his tone firm but teasing.

Your cheeks warmed, "I think you are both so attractive it's distracting,"

"Interesting," Buck and Eddie muttered in unison.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺��✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ So no actual dancing in this part - I promise we'll get back to it next time. Very happy to throw marine organism fun facts in there - Buck is truly a man after my own heart.

[vcaart]

The gorgeous girl genius whose good looks and golden brain will go down in history!!!

(More info on her below :3):

Golden Gadget is one of the youngest creatures to ever join the ranks of Canterlot's esteemed scientists! Her goal? Finding a way to create something similar to unicorn magic to make the lives of creatures everywhere easier!

Golden Gadget (Previously Golden Heart) was raised in Griffonstone along all the other griffons. If you asked her, she'd tell you she was quite unremarkable when she was young and had absolutely no talent (both literally and figuratively.) In fact, she had been a blank flank until one day she got into a horrible flying accident one day.

She was visiting Canterlot, and while flying on her way there she collided with a pegasus in the sky which sent them both crashing to the ground. She was close to death because of the accident, and ended up in a coma for multiple weeks. But when she awoke, her head was full of ideas for all sorts of inventions! She even changed her name to "Golden Gadget" because she felt she was brand new griffon! Unfortunately, her wings were permanently damaged from the crash despite the doctor's efforts.

So her fist invention, the one that earned her her cutie mark, was creating braces for her wings that permitted her to fly again! (Albeit not as quickly as before.) But everyday she comes up with ideas to make them even better, hoping to one day she'll be able to fly normally again.

It was this invention that caught Professor Bright Mind's attention, and he took her in as his apprentice! She helped him upgrade his prize creation, and eventually her "best" (and probably only) friend, H0-P3 on occasion. Though Prof. Bright insisted she pursue her own dreams and creations while studying and working under him.

But that was about all she pursued. Other than H0-P3, she had no friends and frequently isolated herself from everybody else and got herself lost in her work to a concerning level. So Prof. Bright enrolled her in the School of Friendship with H0-P3, hoping they'd finally realize they aren't so different from everybody else and make some friends.

Golden, on the other hand, wasn't the best at it. And when she and her new classmate's cutie marks are threatened, the cutie mark she revered oh so much, she makes the decision to try and steal the Elements of Harmony instead.

The world needs her talent!!!

---

The lineup so far!

Also, if you are wondering why she has a cutie mark it's because in this AU almost every creature has a cutie mark. The exceptions being umbrum and changelings, of course both can make it look like they have a cutie mark if they want. And H0-P3 is also an exception, but only sort of. Their cutie mark is still important to them, even if it isn't real.

There are only three characters in this AU that don't have cutie marks, but only one of those three are keeping their true identity hidden.

I made a Milanote board for this AU btw! But please be mindful that everything not posted on here yet is prone to change, and there are spoilers for the future of this AU (albeit minor at the moment). There are also unposted characters in the design section! So if you don't want to see them just yet, don't go into the design section!

Have a great day!

[thecoolcatstuff]

Top 5 Early Miraculous Episodes That Aged Like Fine Milk

So here is my list of episodes that, looking back, have absolutely not aged well. Id like to remind people yhat this is an Early Episodes list. As so, fan beloathes like Kuro Neko or Derision wont be figuring out, or anything past s03 for that matter.

#5.Chat Blanc

I remember when Chat Blanc came out the hype was out if this world,people saw it as the episode that would "distinguish children from men" in terms of lore and writing . An episode about Chat Noir akumatized? A villain reveal? A betrayal? The world-ending apocalypse? God, its every edgelord's wet dream.

As soon as it came out theories started poping out on the developments of that episode. When would Adrien know? How affected would Ladybug be by it? And Gabriel, what would be his reaction if he found out about it?

However, as we look back now what do we see? An episode that didnt really ammount to anything. Adrien and Gabriel were still unaware of the Chat Blanc timeline, Marinette seems to have forgotten the issue at all, except when it comes as an excuse to keep identities hidden.

The whole drama was set up, and there seems to be literally nothing to talk about now, killing all of its hype.

#4.Pupeteer 2

The episode seems pretty fine if not for one measily detail: we later learn how that was the moment Adrien fell for Marinette.

Which, as we rewatch the episode, makes little to no sense. In the episode, Adrien was nothing beyond eager to improve his platonic relationship with Marinette, still unsure why she couldnt stand talking to him. Even in the almost kiss moment, there is no blush, no flirt, not any sign whatsoever that he might have been remotely attracted to her.

And an important detail: If Adrien had felt anything romantic at all youd think he would be thinking twice about confiding to her about the other girl he loves. Not to say how he immediately started courting Kagami after, so Marinette wasnt even his second choice at that moment.

#3.Miraculer

Many may say that that Queen's Battle are the episodes that best describe Chloe's failed redemption arc. I disagree, saying that the one that better represent it is Miraculer. Here, we see chloe's redemption at its peak. Chloe rejecting akumas, pulling his weight against mayura, and even with her own issues working together with the whole team to win over the villain. And all just episodes from Chloe inexplicably just turn a 180 and going for the Evilest Person Ever position.

#2. Ladybug

If you ever want to prove to someone that the Sentimonster Theory was a retcon, just show them this episode. Ladybug disregards most of sentilife philosophicsl debates and just treats sentibeings as expendable life. We have Gabriel and Nathalie completely disregarding Sentimonster Life even with Adrien supposedly a sentimonster. Even Ladybug and Chat Noir give us little regarding sentibug's death, just a sad-face-with-tear reaction and moving on, and I really doubt the reaction would have been the same if a flesh-and-bone human had died. The narrative clearly doesnt aknowledge that Senti Ladybug's life was as inportant, what makes the whole claim that "sentimonster lives matter" later on nonsensical

#1.Chameleon

Remember when Miraculous was a fun and go-lucky superhero show about a girl and her cat fighting villains? Chameleon is the catalyst for when things started to go wrong. The whole Lila plot tapped into the insecurities of many people and brough out the worst in the fandom. Salt against Adrien, Alya, Bustier and the class started popping out, people who just wanted to prioritize Marinette's needs above all else started coming in. Class salt became a subgenre of the fandom and extremely popular.Chameleon may look innocent but awoke the worst of this fandom.

[kwimii999]

Small update

I always try to be joyful and funny. However, I now have to talk about something that I never wished that I would have to talk about but it has come to that point. Yes, college and my job has been the main reason as to why I dont upload as videos/mods much but it also has to do with the environnement Im currently in. I currently do not have the financial power to leave where I live. My family and I still live with our abuser. It is much more complicated than just leaving. Tonight I almost got punched in the face. (Yes, police was called and I am safe) Luckily some of my family members were around but I guess it awoke something in me but, all this to say I have a lot of mental health issues I've been dealing with ever since I was a kid and a whole lot of other things have been consistently happening in my life. I'm trying very hard to stay strong but I have to make sacrifices as much as I love sims 3 so much and making content as well, I wish I could be as active as I was before but now I have a job and Im saving up for very important things. I basically pay for the majority of my things, my bus card, my semesters, my personal bills, my school books, my school supplies, sometimes I help my mom with groceries and a lot more. I have a lot of responsibilities. Sadly, I do not have the same amount of free time as before. I had 2 weeks off of work since the 2nd of june. This is my first time in a while that I have time to relax but sadly I guess I didnt relax not surprising, if you ever lived with a narcissist you know the drill.

However for the " how I make my sims " video, that video has been recorded, I just need to edit it and then upload the video.

Now if I ever disappear, Im either dead, because this person is very violent (worst case scenario) or literally cannot afford to give my time to making content anymore because of my life circumstances (best case scenario)

Now, Im not expecting pity because that doesn't help anything but Im just trying to explain where Im coming from and why Im inactive most of the time.

My dream one day is to feel safe and have a place where I call home. I hope I can fufill it one day.

Anyways, if you took the time to read thank you, I appreciate it 😊

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt2 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

After a recurring nightmare, you and Sam decide to open the shop early...only to have an early arriving customer.

Part 1, part 3, Masterlist!

Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had

The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams

Weren't as daft as they seem, not as daft as they seemed

My love, when you dream them up

You awoke with a jolt at your alarm, the cursed song striking once more before you could silence your phone. As you sit up the irony is not lost on you. Your dreams of late had been haunted by the caricature of your ex, some cartoon evil laugh chasing with the constant ringing of your phone. The dreams always ended the same, except for this last night:

He was upon you in a moment, clawed hand reaching up your leg. You kick and kick but the words never escape your sewn mouth. The words of your ex-coworker swarm you like angry flies, bold and ugly.

“Disgraceful”

“Stepped over for the CEO’s daughter”

“They were shoddy anyway…”

The voices all fade into your ex’s final words to you: “I never loved you anyway.”

That crushed your heart into ash and scattered it into the indifferent winds. But before he could drag you back, a shape formed in your conscience. Heavy boot steps silence the laughter and a large figure passes in your peripheral vision. In the haze of your dream, he passes the shelves, the bookstore emerging from the darkness to surround your ex and the harpies. 

Your panic slows in the familiar setting and with a kick you send your ex stumbling backward. Turning your face up from the hardwood floor you look towards the figure as the haze clears. It's a man, tall and in black, just browsing but something draws your eye. And as you feel yourself awaken his eyes, hardwood and honey, meet yours. 

You hear shuffling before there is a knock on your door. You call him in and Sam’s head pops in. Green eyes hidden behind black curls meet yours and he pauses upon seeing your slouched shoulders.

“Nightmare again?” He kicks a pair of jeans aside and enters your room.

You stand, make your bed swiftly, and turn to address him in the glory of your Rainbow Fish Pajamas. 

“Yeah, except there was a man this-”

“You got Soap on the brain again?” It comes out immediately and you flush before rushing forward to hit your older brother figure. He was and wasn't wrong. In the following weeks after Soap’s initial visit you found yourself developing a steady friendship with the Scot, who insisted on dropping in every other day. It started with recommendations but quickly turned into shared tea over book conversations. You learned a little about him in the meantime, finding out he worked as a bartender literally down the street from your little shop. The convenience of his closeness and his ease of personality found you a fast and steady friend. 

“-despite your obvious stupidity, no I do not like him!” You huffed, and it was true! Soap was handsome but in truth, you believed that one he was in a relationship and second he was better as a prospective friend. 

Sam grins, dodging your poor attempt to smack him as he spins out of your room,

“He is hot though, poor lad probably gets hit on every shift. Remember we promised to visit on Saturday night! Come on let's open up the store early. I have a good feeling about today!” And with a clap of his hands for you to hurry he closes your door, exiting down the hall towards the kitchen. In a moment you can hear him lighting the stove to make breakfast. 

In the resulting silence, you dress yourself, passing a reflection of yourself in the mirror and choosing to ignore it. Your laptop sits beside your current project: A Smith Corona Corsair, one of the few possessions you had brought with you. The typewriter was the start of your writing career and you kept it well-tuned for work. 

You run a soft hand over its polished ivory keys. The mint blue of the case had a few scratches but was mostly worn from love. You remember as a child hammering on the keys, which graduated into a curiosity for mechanical machines and writing. The stone kept tumbling after you finished your Master’s in English and first stepped into the editing business. In the topsy-turvy world you found yourself in a comfortable position as an editor for a company, a year in deciding to write your books and the rest was history. 

You close the typewriter and quickly change into a manageable but comfy outfit then head out into the hall. Closing your door, you head down the hallway of your small flat, passing photos from back home with Sam. Taking a right you pass into the open concept of the apartment (Sam’s room was straight across the hall from yours). You pad softly on the carpet, stepping onto the rug and into the kitchen where Sam is making breakfast. He flips a pancake as bacon sizzles on the griddle. Running a hand to his shoulder you lean over to see how it was coming, sufficiently satisfied at his improving cooking skills.

“You are learning well”

“I get it from the best” he replies pulling you in for a small hug and a kiss to the side of your head. He releases you at the ding of 8 am on the clock. 

“You want breakfast up here?” You hover over the cabinet of plates, proceeding to pull two out for the food with silverware following. 

“Nah, let's just open shop, I'll eat in the sitting area before cleaning the book return. Can you take the counter today?”

You nod and shift aside so he can plate the food. The Ghibli style meal looks filling and you sigh, you go to take a swipe at the fresh pancakes but Sam dances aside.

“Wait till we’re downstairs.” He follows it up by gathering the silverware and heading towards the stairs. You pout and go to open the door for him and proceed to follow him down the hardwood stairs.

---

You set up post at the counter by 8:11, a plate of food set aside the stack of holds. Some paperbacks gleam with a glossy finish, while other hardbacks are nice with matte coats. Before your eye moves away you catch the shine of antiqued gold. You gently move the top books aside to grab the fabric-bound hardback: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.  It looked to be a 50s-60s American release, bound with an inner marbled coat of paper and inlaid with gold foil lettering. The deep aqua of the fabric was barely worn, you wondered if the book had ever been read at all with the great condition it was in. You looked inside the cover for a name but on a a shibu inu shaped sticky note were the initials S.R.

Huh, that's interesting. You ran a hand over the scripting, it wasn't Sam nor your handwriting. You shrug. They must be regular then. You and Sam had a ‘write and set aside’ policy in the store. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the two of you (and the regulars) that if a book turned up on the counter like this, with a name, it was put ‘on hold’. You set the beautiful book aside with a final glance, then turned your attention to breakfast. 

After finishing your meal you opened the doors to the bookstore at an early 8:34 am. Turning back to the counter you head over and hook your phone up to the music. You flip through Your Love first then frown, the implications of the song a bit much, next Jessie’s Girl. At Rick Springfield’s voice, you sigh, flashes of the girl your ex dumped, and you turn the song again. Then finally the sweet guitar riff and a beat that puts you on your toes kicks up. From the back of the shelves, Sam's head full of hair pokes out.

“It's been a while since we've had a Bowie day!”

You smile back at him as Modern Love kicks up. You sway from around the corner and flip the sign to open, you turn on the neon sign and turn to go stock the sitting area when there’s an immediate ding of the bell as someone enters. You turn around as Sam calls a Welcome in from the back of the store. The first sight that hits you is a literal wall of a man, then there is the smell of worn leather and pine. You step back with a small oh in surprise. 

He wears all black except for a pair of well-fitting jeans and leather boots. As your eyes trace up his tall figure you catch a snug shift with a leather jacket fitted over. Then a black surgical mask and…you freeze. Looking down at you with a slight sense of amusement are eyes the color of darkened honey. 

The man from your dream! But in the flesh and oh…

“I am so sorry!” You wave your hand in front of you a little shy to be caught staring.

The man offers no more than a slight nod with amusement dancing in his eyes. He regards you a moment before mentioning in a low voice, rough but soft:

“No worries dove.”

And with that he steps around you, brushing your arm with the slightest touch of leather, and disappears into the books.

You stand for a moment more before a blush runs up your face and a tingle runs down your spine.

Fuck.

END

I love writing this. I am no longer bored in the library thank you to these lovely people (Taglist!)

@ghostlythots