#or is it just me σ(^_^;)

[gothiclynovi]

I don’t have a clever caption but I had that one song from Madagascar 3 stuck in my head while making this

Part 1 (here) | …

(Click for better quality)

[maddymoreau]

“I love watching you sleep. Testing how close I can get before you wake up. So far you've never stirred once.”

Commission by @saccharineheartx

[horseboned]

secret byakkoya catastrophic ending

[ofspvrta]

Grazing a hand over their thigh, applying slow, deliberate pressure. / this but kristen's doing it under a table to kass.

μ::|| meme: 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. | accepting [ Ξ ]

θ::|| @torntruth | kristen

It should have been obvious that they wouldn't have made it through the night without continuing the quick fling in the hotel room in some capacity. By miracle, they made it through appetizers, but the glances they were throwing each other's way had spoken volumes. They weren't done with each other. The wine didn't help, and by the time the main courses arrived and Kassandra was enjoying her rack of lamb, she felt it, slow and light at first. A hand along her thigh, grazing along the fine fabric of her suit pants.

Golden eyes glance up to see the hint of green underneath those glasses of hers. A knowing look, the kind that says I know what you're doing. But not one that is protesting any of it.

But that pressure builds and she's losing focus on the succulent shank in front of her. She looks down at her meat again, trying to focus on cutting her next bite when she feels a little squeeze. "You're lucky our table isn't in the center of this restaurant." She utters, moving her other leg forward to rub her foot along the other woman's calf. "You're going to make the trip back to the hotel absolutely excruciating you know." Her tone is low as she takes a bite of the steak, making direct eye contact with her now. "You just want to watch me squirm in anticipation, don't you?"

[yuukimiyas]

i'm sorry about your car, but i'm happy to hear that you're keeping a positive outlook on your day. reo would drive you around so you'd never have to worry about car troubles again, I know it v_v

my love tee!! ૮꒰๑´ ᵕˋ๑꒱ა sniffle tysm bby!! you’re too sweet to me i swear i am not deserving!! ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა omg yes yes reo totes would for sure!! doesn’t wanna see his pretty girl stressin over smth so dumb like cars ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა hehee!! tysm for the sweet msg tee!! gojo better be treatin you so well or i’m gonna come & zoom over there!! ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i love you sm!! <33

[odysseys-blood]

ive been wanting to know what happens in one route of a dating sim ive had for a while now but i havent been able to make peace with the fact that its w/ the bdsm priest and this game has made me learn theres nothing id want to be less than a sub

[thesadisticsiren]

Part of me wants to make an AU where Shen Yuan never breaks the OOC lock, or at least breaks it WAY later. I want to see the shenanigans and loopholes he pulls on the system to get his way. He's a clever guy who can strategize and argue like he will die on ANY and EVERY hill, and he DID manage to twist things his way before the lock was lifted. I want to see how far he could GO.

Shen Qingqiu: Obviously the scum villain, upon finding out the little beast is an excellent cook, would keep those skills for himself. He wouldn't share or allow another peak lord or disciple to benefit from it!

System: USER, LETTING THE PROTAGONIST COOK FOR YOU IS OOC!! (￣_￣|||)

Shen Qingqiu: LET HIM? Let him your MOTHER! No, I'm MAKING him. He has to, it's part of his chores. He has to get up extra early to cook for me, and it takes up more of his time. Everyone else gets the Qingjing peak's quality meals, Binghe will have to subsist on whatever extras he can after cooking for this master. Plus if he does badly I have more excuse to punish him! Now shut up, Binghe's making Twice Cooked Pork and I have to watch him do it to make sure he doesn't poison anything. And not because he likes watching Binghe.

Additionally

system: USER WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Σ(っ °Д °;)っ

Shen Qingqiu, patting Binghe's head: What does it look like I'm doing, you bastard. I'm hitting him.

System: ...

Shen Qingqiu: I can't do it too hard, of course! I can't risk leaving marks where people might see them. I'm just being forward thinking!!

AND ALSO

Shen Qingqiu, to himself: FUCK how do I help Liu Qingge without being out of character-

System: NO WORRIES, USER!! ASSISTING THE BAI ZHAN PEAK LORD WITH HIS QI DEVIATION IS NOT OOC! o(*￣▽￣*)o

Shen Qingqiu: fucking WHAT?!?

[cherryyluvs]

Hi just first wanted to say I love ur writing, it's so nice to read as if am really seeing it physically. Anyways I wanted to ask if you could write a starfire type reader where she first meets mark and how their relationship grows . Exploring his friends and parents reaction to her power , tamaranean background and personality. I know damn well cecil will be exhausted finding out there's another alien race with so much power . thank you again for ur work in the invincible fandom cause there's so few amazing writers. 😘😘

Ahhh thank you so much!! 🥹💖 That means the world to me!! I LOVE the idea of a Starfire-type reader I don’t know much of her but I tried my best (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) hope you enjoy!!

Mark first meets you under a.. Chaotic circumstance. An alien attack and he is already in mid-fight when you swoop in. Blasting through enemies, striking, and flipping with this effortless grace. Mark is immediately like Σ(°□°˶) !! So powerful, he can't take his eyes off of you. He's already impressed but also slightly intimidated. “Uh… who are you?” But you can't understand him yet, titling your head blinking in confusion. “You don't understand me, do you?”

Without hesitation you float towards him, placing your hands gently on his cheek and kissing him. Mark freezes. His eyes widened. You pull back, lips turning into a bright smile. “Ah! Now i understand”

“What just happened?”

“In my homeworld, Tamaran, lip contact is a simple custom to learn any language”

“simple..??” Mark is completely flustered while you're acting like kissing him was the most normal thing in the world.

He starts seeing you around more often, you being curious about Earth. Everything from human customs to food. Mark ends up becoming your unofficial guide. You’re fascinated by Earth’s food, the first time Mark takes you out for burgers, you literally hover out of your seat from excitement. “This is delicious! May I try yours?” and before he could answer you, steal a fry from his tray. Acting like fries are the greatest discovery of your life. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Mark becomes curious about Tamaranean culture and one day you got him to try something from your home plant – Zorkaberries. Presenting them to him proudly, a small bowl of deep purple berries in your hand, Mark would eye them suspiciously. He hesitated for a moment before picking one, and popping it in his mouth. The flavor being bittersweet “Whoa, this is really good?”

“Of course! They are Zorkaberries!!” giggling, floating closer and patting his back “do you wish for more?”

Tamaraneans are naturally affectionate so you're constantly touching mark. Holding his hand, brushing your fingers through his hair, and hugging him from behind. It's second nature to you. The more you two hang out and go on dates the more you start falling in love, he loves how blunt you are and have no problem telling Mark exactly how you feel — even if it flusters him.

When you first met his parents, Debbie and Nolan. You were extremely polite, immediately hugging her and complimenting her home. Offering to help with dinner which she is surprised but pleased by. During dinner time you speak of tales of your planet, your people, how you come from a warrior race and noble family. Nolan, on the other hand, is suspicious of you. He recognizes how powerful you are and the fact that you come from an alien race puts him on edge. His Viltrumite instincts are definitely twitching, wary of you but you remain cheerful and unbothered.

Cecil is immediately rubbing his temples because 2 Viltrumites is already bad enough – now there's Tamaranean on earth? Just what he needed, but deep down he knows you could be an invaluable ally , keeping a close eye on you to ensure you're not up to something.

As for mark friends ? William thinks you're super cool, saved him from a villain once and he won't stop yapping about how you carried him bridal style. Amber loves how sweet and down to earth you are, obsessed with helping you pick out earth clothes and doing ‘girl stuff’ together. Eve is immediately fascinated by you, she recognizes your power level and asks you about your planet and your culture. “So you guys can fly and absorb sunlight? That's insane”

“It is quite convenient!”

Bonus:

Afterward, Mark’s brain is still trying to catch up. Mark (to himself): “She’s a literal princess. And she kissed me. To learn my language. Okay.” (꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

[serenxtyinsxlence]

@erxsxre asked: [ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger

When it rains, it pours, that's how the saying always goes, and right now? It was a monsoon of destruction, chaos, and high risk conditions. So many villains had been running rampant, one taken down two more appear type situation, and the pros were already working double time to try and get things under control. Most civilians had been advised or instructed to get inside by this point, find shelter or hiding, anywhere that wasn't out in the open. Clearly, in her case that is, she'd taken the advisory route, tending to others around her. Amidst the panic, she'd been trying to guide people one way or another, assisting where she could while attempting to steer clear of the carnage.

Even though using her quirk would have made evading so much easier, it wasn't an option, not unless she wanted to risk getting caught and taken in. No, this would just have to work the old fashioned way. The further into the city traveled, the more perilous the atmosphere became, buildings up in flame, powerlines and poles half collapsed, pure carnage. Though it appeared that the number of attackers was diminishing, it was still too soon to make a judgement call in terms of safety. A few more civilians were guided out of harms way, guided through the back allies to avoid the main roads. Between the smog in the air and in an almost nonstop sprinting, her chest was heavy with a rapid rise and fall while attempting to catch her breath. No time to stop now..

Slipping carefully from the back alley, her gaze landed on a familiar figure, one that she'd not been expecting to see at the very least on the ground. He wasn't in the worst condition, thankfully, but certainly not his best either. From what could be deduced from the distance, he was still very much on his guard as well, he was still evading.. Not far behind him was a rapidly approaching silhouette, charging straight in his direction at full force. Not a second thought was given before breaking out in a full sprint, narrowly making it in time to step between Eraser and his assailant, taking the blow that had been aimed for him directly to the lower right side of her ribs. Some sort of strength quirk, but definitely not as strong as it could have been, but certainly a hard hit that could have put him in a bind had he been on the receiving end.

To avoid being shot back across the pavement, her hands had clamped down onto their arm in a vice like grip. An audible crack followed by a sputtered out shout of pain soon followed, but she kept her feet planted, if only to buy him some more time.

[misto713]

you can't tell me shang qinghua never slipped up before his legenday "wtf" at the immortal alliance conference.

come on! you want me to believe that man never memed at the peak lord meeting, not even once, not even by accident? especially since any memes would be just seen as weird turns of phrase and sqh never expected anyone else to be a transmigrator and to recognize it?

honestly, this is how it should have gone:

Liu Qingge: "...and that's the status report. Bai Zhan requires extensive repairs to its Northern and Eastern gates and-"

Shang Qinghua: *under his breath "Two gates? In this economy?"

Shen Qingqiu: *splutters and chokes on his tea

Shang Qinghua: "..." (゜。゜)

Shen Qingqiu: "..." (゜。゜)

All the Peak Lords: "..." (・_・ヾ

Shen Qingqiu: "Destruction? At Bai Zhan Peak? It's more likely than you think!"

Shang Qinghua: *chokes on air Σ(°ロ°)

All the Peak Lords:

...and then these two dumbasses could have put their brains to work together and find a way to avoid the entire Abyss debacle.

All it would have taken would be for SQQ to actually attend Peak Lord meetings :D

Edit: turned this idea into a full fic: Peak Dumbassery

[dior-luxury]

how would the Heartslabyul guys react to finding out their s/o goes to RSA? Like they hid it from them because they where scared of finding out 👀

Finding Out That Their S/O Goes To RSA

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . drama/soft angst - she/her .

- [𝐜𝐡.] riddle . ace . deuce . cater . trey

- [𝐩:𝐬] hurt/comfort . lying . nrc vs rsa rivalry . romantic drama .

Note: I honestly really love the idea of one of the guys dating someone from RSA, cause it just adds so much drama between the two schools (¬‿¬ ). This also turned out to be more angsty then I was kinda hoping Σ(□_□) , but I still liked the outcome.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle wasn’t used to being blindsided. He ran a tight ship—rules, order, discipline. That’s what made things work. That’s how he kept control over chaos. Over disappointment. Over his heart.

So when he saw the letter in your hand—elegant, sealed with the unmistakable crest of Royal Sword Academy—he froze.

You noticed instantly. The way his eyes locked onto it like a hunter spotting prey. “Riddle—”

“Is that from RSA?” His voice was sharp. Measured. A warning bell in his tone.

You hesitated. That was your first mistake.

“…It’s mine,” you said finally, softly. “I… go there.”

His lips parted in disbelief, like you had just told him you were a traitor to his face. “You’re an RSA student?”

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared you’d react like this.”

He stepped back, the red of his hair blazing in the moonlight. “Scared? Then you knew it was wrong.”

“No! I just—” you paused, trying to find the right words. “I wanted you to like me, not where I’m from. You’re so proud of NRC, Riddle. You’re the heart of Heartslabyul. I didn’t think I could ever fit into your world if you knew I was from theirs.”

He looked like you slapped him. “So you lied.”

“I protected us,” you whispered.

But Riddle couldn’t hear it. Not yet. His mind was spiraling. RSA. Trein’s lectures about their rivalry. Crowley’s bitter remarks. Trey’s side-eye anytime the topic came up.

“Every rule has a reason,” he said, almost to himself. “Every truth matters. And you didn’t trust me with yours.”

You felt your throat tighten. “Riddle, I love you. But I was scared that loving me wouldn’t be enough once you knew.”

And then—just for a second—his walls cracked.

He looked at you, truly looked, and the fight drained from his face. “I don’t care that you’re from RSA,” he said, voice trembling. “I care that you thought I wouldn’t fight for you.”

Silence stretched, thick as fog.

“…Would you have?” you asked.

He walked to you, slowly, like stepping through a minefield. Then he took your hand. “Yes. Every time. No matter the badge you wear.” He looked down. “I just wish you believed that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he whispered. “I should’ve made you feel safe enough to tell me.”

You leaned into him, your head on his shoulder. For once, the rose garden was quiet—no rules, no orders. Just two hearts finally being honest.

Ace Trappola

Ace always prided himself on being sharp. A quick wit, quicker comebacks, and definitely smarter than he let on. But somehow, you had managed to completely fly under his radar. His girlfriend. His smart, stylish, gorgeous girlfriend, who always had this mysterious glow about her—the one who “went to a different school” and could never study with him on NRC campus.

He thought it was quirky at first. Maybe even hot. But then he saw the badge poking out from your purse when you turned your head to answer a text. That glossy RSA emblem glinting like it was mocking him.

At first, he just… stared.

RSA? Royal Sword Academy? You?

You noticed immediately. “Ace,” you started, that perfect voice suddenly unsure, “I can explain—”

He laughed. Sharp, surprised, almost disbelieving. “So that’s the big secret? You’re one of them?”

You tried to reach for his hand, but he stepped back. It wasn’t anger in his face—it was hurt. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Your voice was soft. “You know how NRC and RSA are. I thought you’d hate me if you knew.”

He scoffed. “I don’t care about that.” He did. Kind of. But not in the way you feared. “I care that you lied to me. You’ve been… what? Pretending to be from nowhere? Slipping out after dates like Cinderella?”

You crossed your arms, frustrated. “I was scared, Ace! You hate those guys. You’ve said it a million times. I didn’t want to ruin what we had just because I’m technically your rival.”

His jaw tensed. “You’re not my rival. You’re my girlfriend. Or… I thought you were.”

Silence stretched between you. The air felt thick.

Then he ran a hand through his hair, muttering, “I can’t believe I didn’t see it. No wonder you always walked with that stuck-up RSA posture.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Are you calling me stuck-up?”

He shot you a look. “I’m calling you too perfect to be real. Figures you’re from a school that polishes halos.”

“…So do you hate me?”

His eyes softened. “No. I’m just pissed that you didn’t trust me.” He exhaled, long and slow, then finally reached out and took your hand. “But you’re still you. And that’s the girl I fell for. RSA badge or not.”

“Even if your dormmates roast you for dating the enemy?”

He smirked. “I’ll roast them back harder.” He leaned in close, nose almost touching yours. “Besides… we’ll just make it a secret relationship again. Like spies. Or star-crossed lovers. Kinda sexy, if you think about it.”

You giggled, leaning into his kiss. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re mine,” he said. “Even if you do wear that hideous uniform.”

Deuce Spade

“Tell me the truth. You go to RSA, don’t you?”

His voice was trembling, hands clenched at his sides. You’d never seen Deuce like this—this serious. Like the truth might break him.

You swallowed hard and looked away.

He already knew.

You could see it in his eyes, the betrayal, the confusion. The gears in his head spinning so fast, trying to make sense of the math that didn’t add up.

Your bag had spilled open in his room earlier while you were looking for your perfume. And in that innocent chaos, your student ID had slid out.

Royal Sword Academy.

You hadn’t even noticed until he went quiet. Until he held it up with wide eyes and a stunned expression, like he didn’t believe what he was holding.

And now here you were—standing in Ramshackle’s dusty hallway, trying to figure out what to say.

“…I do,” you whispered. “I go to RSA.”

His jaw tensed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you said softly. “I knew you’d look at me like I was the enemy. And I’m not, Deuce. I’ve never been.”

“But why lie?” he asked, stepping back. “You could’ve just told me from the start.”

“I wanted to. So many times. But then I saw how everyone at NRC talks about RSA—like we’re all spoiled, soft, fairy-tale kids who don’t know how to handle ourselves. I didn’t want you to think I was… less.”

“Less?” Deuce echoed, eyes wide. “You think I’d ever think that about you?”

You looked down. “You’re proud of this place. Of who you’ve become here. And I didn’t want you to think I was just playing pretend in your world. I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t belong with you.”

There was a long pause. Deuce stared at you, shoulders still tense.

Then, in a quiet voice: “I don’t care what school you go to. I care about you.”

You looked up, surprised.

“I mean, yeah, I’ve always been a little competitive,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, a lot competitive. Especially when it comes to RSA. But that’s just… school rivalry stuff. I’d never throw away what we have because of a name on your ID.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, relief flooding your chest.

“You’re not mad?”

“I was,” he said honestly. “Mostly because I thought I didn’t know who you really were. But then I remembered… you’re the girl who helped me study for Trein’s exam. Who brought me food when I skipped meals. Who walked all the way from your campus to NRC in the rain just to see me on my bad days.”

He stepped forward, cupping your cheek gently.

“I know exactly who you are. And no rival school is gonna change that.”

You laughed, leaning into his touch. “So… we’re good?”

“We’re better than good,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “But you are gonna have to tell me everything about that school. I wanna know what I’m up against when I challenge them in the next inter-school competition.”

“Already planning your next duel, Spade?”

“Only if you promise to cheer for me. Loudly.”

You smirked. “Loudly and stylishly.”

Cater Diamond

Cater had always been a little hard to read, but that was part of the charm. One second he was all smiles and selfies, and the next he’d go quiet, just watching with those sharp amber eyes like he was trying to read your mind. You had always thought he was too perceptive for his own good—until now.

Because somehow, somehow, you had managed to date him for nearly three months without him realizing you didn’t go to NRC. You went to Royal Sword Academy. The "rival" school. The one filled with boys like Neige, soft and sweet and disgustingly charming in a way that made NRC students roll their eyes.

You had good reason to lie—or rather, avoid the truth. NRC students didn’t exactly love RSA. And Cater? He was always surrounded by people, easily swayed by public opinion, by his image. You didn’t want to ruin what you had. So you never wore your uniform around him, always met off-campus, told half-truths about your classes and teachers. You even blurred your location on Magicam.

You didn’t think it would come out like this, though.

“Cater?” you said nervously, seeing his eyes go wide as he looked at your student ID that had fallen out of your bag. You had fumbled for it, but it was too late.

"Wait, wait, babe... This says... RSA? Royal Sword Academy?"

There was a silence that fell between you like a fog.

“I can explain,” you said quickly, but Cater just laughed—a sharp, startled noise, not his usual sing-song chuckle.

“So that’s why you never let me visit your campus,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You lied about what school you go to? That’s not like, a little white lie, Y/N. That’s huge.”

“I was scared,” you admitted, twisting your fingers together. “Everyone at NRC acts like RSA is some kind of joke. I thought if you knew, you’d treat me differently. Or worse, you'd leave.”

Cater’s expression softened, but only a little.

“Okay, okay... I get that,” he said, voice quieter. “But you didn’t trust me. That’s what stings the most.”

He looked down, biting his lip.

“I’ve always shown you the real me. Even when it’s messy. I thought we had something honest.”

You stepped forward, gently taking his hand.

“We do. I just... didn’t want to risk losing you.”

He exhaled hard, eyes closing. Then, finally, he opened them and gave you a soft smile.

“Well... you’ve got some serious guts, girlie. Hiding all that and still making time for me? Iconic.” His smile turned wry. “But next time, just tell me the truth, okay? I can handle it. Promise.”

He pulled you into a hug, whispering, “My girlfriend goes to RSA... damn, the tea’s hot today.”

Trey Clover

Trey wasn’t the type to raise his voice. He was calm, level-headed, the type of guy who baked tarts when he was stressed and solved problems with quiet wisdom. But the way his shoulders tensed as he stared at your RSA pin told you everything you needed to know.

You had dropped your cloak while visiting him in the Heartslabyul kitchen. He’d picked it up for you—gentle, polite—and that’s when he saw it: the neat, gold-embroidered RSA insignia on the collar.

“Is this a joke?” he asked softly, though there was no humor in his voice.

You froze. “Trey, I—”

“Please don’t lie to me now.”

The words hit like ice. You had always admired that about him—how he could say so little and make it feel like everything.

“I go to RSA,” you said finally, quietly. “I didn’t tell you because... I didn’t want to lose you.”

Trey set the cloak down carefully, his movements controlled. Too controlled.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “We’ve been dating for months, Y/N. I’ve let you into my dorm, introduced you to Riddle and the others. I’ve told you things I don’t tell anyone. And all this time, you’ve been hiding something that huge?”

“I didn’t lie,” you argued, though your voice cracked. “I just didn’t say it.”

He looked at you then, and his eyes were sad. “That’s still a lie.”

There was a beat of silence, thick with disappointment.

“Do you know how hard it is to earn trust at NRC?” he asked, voice low. “Everything here is about hierarchy. Power. Control. When I met you, it felt like a break from all that. Like I could be myself. And now I find out you’ve been pretending this whole time.”

Your throat tightened. “I wasn’t pretending to love you. That part was real. Every second.”

He looked away, jaw clenched. “I believe you,” he said after a pause. “But I need time.”

You stepped forward. “Trey—”

He turned back to you, softer now. “I still care about you. That hasn’t changed. But if we’re going to move past this, I need to know that you’ll be honest with me. No more secrets.”

You nodded, feeling the weight in your chest loosen just slightly. “Okay. No more lies.”

He offered a small smile—tired, but real—and reached for your hand. “Then let’s start over. You, me, and the truth this time.”

[sqgeism]

How would our favorite amphoreus men take care of reader after they got caught in the rain and got sick? maybe they have a fever, chills, blocked nose. i need some fluff in life

hope ur having a good day and love your works :)))0

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 ooh, be my baby | various hsr men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; i'll look after you . working on a rainy day had expected consequences. lucky you, your boyfriend loves you too much to scold you for the time being. well.. depends on who you choose.. ! (anaxa, mydei, phainon, dan heng, boothill, jing yuan)

love mail — hii anonnie tysm! i'm doing great!! thank u thats so sweet (´ﾟЗﾟ｀)♡ i brought back some ogs :3 ! and boothill cause i like him so don't jump me, sorry geppie i swear i love you ！Σ(���□￣;) these r semishort n stuff cause these r a lot but i hope it does well :D

anaxa makes a cure for you in hours.

he hides it as just 'making advances in his medical knowledge' but he was genuinely worried. he had a busy week at the academy, and he didn't want to leave you alone with no way to be cared for. he wants to be there, but he couldn't call off of work a week before the students exams week, needing to post reviewers and host review classes.

so the weekend you got sick, he made a comfortable bed for you in his lab as he worked on something to free you of your sickness, making sure to also check on you the whole time.

he eventually made a concoction that helped your fever go away, body aches disappear, and clears your nose, however it didn't fix the headache. you don't mind, at least you can move your body without wanting to throw yourself off the planet.

anaxa gives you a minor scolding. something about taking better care of yourself and making him fuss over you, but he kisses your cheek and sighs. "i love you, and i'd figure out the cure to any disease that attacks you, but please don't do this again."

mydei lets you rest on top of him for the first day you got sick. tissues, snacks, thermometer, change of clothes.. all of that are set up on your nightstand. the only times he got up was to make you warm meals, and to replace the icepack that pressed up against your forehead.

honestly, he loves this. he knows the reason why you're warm is because you're literally burning up, but he likes it. you're like a little heating pad and you're extra clingy, weak arms squeezing his chiseled chest makes him melt.

he smothers you in kisses and affection till you feel better (oh, and medicine).

if you chose to be clingy to mydei, phainon's choosing to be clingy to you! but you don't want him to be sick :( he's being a big baby when you try to pull away, but he doesn't care. you're too sickly to fight back and honestly his strong, firm arms around you sound real nice rn. and so you let him, to your dismay.

he's a bit of a jerk about it though, cold hands slipping under your shirt and causing you to shiver, hearing his giggles as he apologizes and squeezes you. phainon's got so much love for teasing you, but he knows you need care to be better.

you fall asleep wrapped in blankets and tangled up with phainon.

boothill's probably the best of them all. he doesn't get sick, and he's like a personal heater or cooler. if you're too warm or too cold, he can adjust his body temperature to your liking. "yer clingin' onto me like i'd ever want to go anywhere, darlin'." he teases, running his fingers through your hair as you press yourself against his cold metal, hating how hot your body feels.

he plays some music for you to relax to, and he's telling you tales of his adventures to get you to sleep. who knew a soft, southern accent could work so well as a lullaby?

his arms are locked around you. he's hiding his worry well, but when you fall asleep he's whispering about how you need to take better care of yourself. "though, mm.. yer real cute like this, all snuggly and sniffly. could baby 'ya all week."

dan heng is definitely more on the scolding side, the moment he wakes up to you squirming and sniffling, he's got an unamused look on his face. the night prior, you walked through the astral express doors absolutely soaked from the rain. dan heng helped you change, shower, dry your hair and sleep. but you woke up sick regardless.. like he said you would, like you said you wouldn't.

"this is why you should let me come with you to missions." he grumbles, stirring the bowl of warm stew he made for you as you lay in bed. "goodness, it was one mission, and you come home to me like this. i hate how much i love you." dan heng scoffed, blowing the spoon of warm food and holding it against your lips. "i can't fight this urge to care for you. you're just so.. ugh."

he falls asleep before you, funny enough. you admire the face of your loving boyfriend before drifting off to your own slumber.

you should get sick more often.

you can't even be mad at yourself, jing yuan has allowed you to cuddle up to his sweet, insanely fluffy lion. you can't tell if it's the clogged nose or all the fur you're inhaling, but you love it. and you've got a 'weighted' blanket too. aka your boyfriend.

jing yuan had already fed you your medicine, changed clothes, and fed you well. so there was nothing to do but wait for the next few hours till you'd have to drink medicine again, so now you two are just cuddled up to the embodiment of a cloud.

"you're liking this far too much." your beloved boyfriend remarks, rubbing his head against your tummy as you chuckle, although very weakly. "maybe, but i really do appreciate being taken care of."

the deepest, velvety laugh escapes his lips as he looks up at you, that same smirk he's always worn on his face. "nothing less than for you. now rest, my love. i'll have dinner served for you soon."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[angelesca]

w.c. ~5k hooooly balllls | game system au! phainon x npc!gnreader, short stories, in da clerb, we all fam with the amphoreus cast, puppy phainon yippee, bantering with the game system, trying to avoid raising phainon's affection points but failing horribly💖reader has a lil' nickname ('moonlight'), goofy antics ofc ofc, finally some physical contact (it's a good day), written during ver.3.0! (forgive me for any poor characterisations!) [𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬]: 1 ┃ 2 ┃...

a/n: here i am again with another stupid idea (who is surprised). okay but the nymph emoticons lit a lightbulb in my head and BAM i gave birth a second child. drew inspo from [svsss], [orv], and [villains are destined to die]!

!!! disclaimer (read me) !!! in the game, there's no night in okhema city (as of writing this), but in this fic it happens! it's explained as best as my dumb brain could^^

“what… the… fudge.” you stare at the system pop-up, almost drooling from how long you’ve had your mouth open in disbelief.

marmoreal market. amphoreus’s civilians walk by you as if you are a passing breeze. in their sphere of natural time flowing, you are stuck with defective clockwork, unmoving in the present reality. what was once a screen of predictable code on your gaming device, is now alive. 

this must be a dream, an illusion drifting by in your head. it's that damn phone, isn't it? you need to stop staying up all night reading fanfic.

you shut your eyes.

…

… ping!

…?

groggily, you open your eyes. in front of you is the perpetrator:

[ヽ(o＾▽＾o) hi~]

angrily, you press the ‘x’ button and close it.

[ what's that for?! (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ ]

you mash your finger on the blue window repeatedly, poking the emoticon in the eye. “you did this to me, didn't you? you kidnapper!” your voice is brimming with fear, overflowing with confusion.

[ WHAAAAT?! (凸ಠ益ಠ)凸 just hear me out- ow! i’ll help you! and stop poking my eye already! yeowch! my nostril! ☆(＃××) ]

pausing, you take a deep breath. the gazes of alert onlookers are beginning to settle goosebumps on your skin. there’s not much that can be done for now, honestly, your best bet is to place some faith on this mysterious system. “... what do you want with me?” you whisper in the lowest volume your anger would allow.

[ hehe~ (o´▽`o) ] you don’t like that expression at all. [ it’s exactly as i’ve told you from the start: become the main character of the newest update in honkai star rail, amphoreus! ] (this is not an advertisement)

“nah.” unamused, you walk through the window which shatters dramatically.

[ (°ロ°) hah? ] 

you scoff. the troublesome titankin? unending side quests and puzzles? responsibilities? fighting a literal god? who the hell wants to do all that? clenching your fist, resolve reconstructs your confidence. and you definitely don't want to listen to an annoying emoticon who forced you here. “i… will live quietly as an npc!” don't let the system have their way!

[ HAAAaAH???! Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;) ]

you find your 88th chest of the day. it's pretty much stealing yet no one bats an eye, do amphoreus civilians also happen to offer customary welcomes for robbers in their houses? at least you are adapting to the world quickly given your game knowledge.

[ surprised you haven't encountered any enemies this past month. usually, the mc has to do some fighting... ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌ ] is what the system said. guess the npc life was made for you.

when you open your 88th chest, you immediately regret it. a purple void cleaves the air and a familiar character dives out. it emotes cheekily, swooping the chest like an eagle to prey. “teehee~ this is mine now!”

[ that’s bartholos the spirit thief. ( ° ∀ ° )ﾉﾞ] [ new achievement: 'meeting bartholos!' ]

bartholos, spirit thief. distasteful memories rewind their tape in your head. the anger you felt seeing this thief pop up, doing the tedious minigame... fury untethered, its primordial tides stirs the previously calm waters of your mind. [ -75 sanity... ]

“... you lil’ flappin’ shirthead. i will rip your throa buy you a lovely necklace and stew you cook you my favourite stew!” 

[ bartholos is confused! ]

“you fu***** bi** sh****** p******* **@^*)>{“£$^*!!!!!” [ OMG! the system can’t keep up with the filtering! ｏ(＞＜；)○ ] “*****pots clanging*****cats meowing*****???***more farting***??”

[ shots fired! it's extremely effective! ]

“o-o-okay! geez, take it… ” bartholos drops the chest, hands in the air. “damn, is it that serious?”

[ w-what kind of npc are you? ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ) ]

"what do you mean?" you pant, "that was totally npc-like." rule #1 in 'the npc survival handbook': gotta make a living somehow.

[ oh, there's an injured pers- don't just ignore them! (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ ]

you had just passed by a dark alley, genuinely not having noticed someone laying there because of the night shadows. and not because you were stuffing your face with sagelore fruit. rolling your eyes, you say, "pay me (nom nom)."

[ huhu (μ_μ) you're so cruel... ]

you cock an eyebrow. "and who forced me here (muffle muffle)?"

[ new side quest: 'be a good person!' ] [ reward: 1500 credits ]

squinting, you read it over - the reward is quite hefty? rule #1 resounds in your head: 'gotta make a living somehow'. retracing your steps, you decide to investigate the shrouding darkness, fingers tracing along the walls.

[ take this! ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ]

your foot catches onto a stray object. "huh?!" the ground slips beneath you and gravity is pulling you by the hand. fortunately, you land on top of something. a solid hand is placed on your lower back, having caught your fall.

analysing whatever it is, you recognise its familiarity: white hair, heroic armour, long cape... oh. oh. oh no. oh nonononono. [ oh yes (≖ ͜ʖ≖) ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs. you gulp. "yo, i'm outta here-"

[ new mainline quest! complete the scenario to advance~ ]

"you littl-" [ violation of system rule #87: do not speak out of character ] "wha-"

[ please choose out of the following options]:

[ i love you! ]

[ let's arrange a marriage NEOW (charisma check) ]

[ if you and i were socks, we'd make a great pair! ]

your eyes could pop out of their socket. what is the system trying to do here? worst wingman in history! without meaning to, you choose the secret fourth option: silence. you awkwardly stare at each other. [ he is confused! ] [ hehe~ okay, i'll stop~ (o^ ^o) that was fun ]

"you shouldn't be here," a serrated voice, sawing into your ears, slices through the stiff silence.

[ 'ooc' turned on ] you feel your throat clear, recclaiming your words. "yes, i agree." you nod your head enthusiastically. "i should be home, cosy in bed." [ oh, come on (￢_￢) ]

"haven't you noticed it's night time?"

"uh," you crook your head up. "i did[n't]." now that he mentioned it, no one else was awake in ohkema city, as if in hiding.

"then please find somewhere safe," he pushes himself up with ripened strength. "it's dangerous to-" he winces. you back away, searching for the site of cause. blood is pooling on his abdomen.

you didn't expect him to be in such a state. how many enemies was he fighting off? glass fiddles in your pockets, reminding you of your spoils. hurriedly, you hand him a health potion that you definitely did not steal. then, painkillers, disinfectant, and so on.

he asks quizically, "how do you have so many things in your pockets?"

"don't worry about it." just videogame things innit. silently, you tend to his wounds though your effort is clumsy.

he looks up at you. his hand timidly ghosts along the road of your working arm, driving closer and closer, as if he's navigated it before. a familiarity that suggests crossed trajectories, but with the way you avoid his eyes, the paths quickly rupture back into parallel lines.

ping! [ new achievement: 'meeting phainon' ] [ phainon's affection +1! ]

you had to repel phainon, but he's strongly magnitised. it's been a few days like this and you don't know why - it's not like you have dog food in your pockets.

"so, what do you do for a living?" oh no, he's is showing interest and his imaginary dog tail is wagging.

your mind blanks. it's not like you can tell him you steal chests and spit bars at bartholos. that'd be a prison speedrun. "i... i'm a professional npc..." [ great impression (￣_￣) ] you groan at the system message.

he tilts his head, curiousity shining in his eyes. "en... pee... sea?"

"uhhh," you falter. then, a lightbulb. wait, wouldn't this is be a good opportunity to change his impression of you—for the worse? anymore association with a chrysos heir is basically a life sentence to becoming the mc, right? "... i," you tinker with your head. "... i sniff armpits..." [ ... my ears hurt (¯ . ¯;) ]

phainon can only smile stiffly. "ahaha?" [ phainon is... intrigued? what's with this guy ] [ phainon's affection +1!(?) ]

... that did not work. rule #3 of 'the npc survival handbook': don't draw attention to yourself (failed).

another day in your life...

"do you know about the other chrysos heirs?" phainon asks, carrying your haul of limited edition honeycakes. [ w(°ｏ°)w finally, the plot is moving! ]

"no," you refuse adamantly, "and i don't want to know because it's too much exposition to listen with no skip butt-"

"hello..."

you jump. "wah?!" the girl bloomed by death's hand studies you, her dark circles accentuating her eyes.

a deep voice thrusts himself in. "are you phainon's new sparring partner? hmph."

"the new traveller? you must be the one the threads were whispering about... why don't we have a chat later?"

"we welcome you to ohkema! isn't it great?!"

"isn't it great...?"

"isn't it great? hmph."

[ isn't it great? ＼(＾▽＾)／]

why in kephale's name is every chrysos heir suddenly here? is this a family gathering or what? it's like you're meeting your in-laws, ready to get their blessings for phainon's hand in marriage.

[ your future husband ] phainon smiles warmly. "well, now you know them." [ handsome as always (＾་།＾) ] [ new achievement: 'meeting the family!' ]

"do you want to embalm a corpse with me...?"

"are you really phainon's sparring partner? come, let me test your prowess in battle."

both of your sides are occupied. along with a tall puppy, there's also a purple butterfly and a tabby cat apparently [ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ]. "don't you guys have to save the world?"

castorice nods slowly. "indeed... finding thanatos, i hope to recover my past too..."

mydei crosses his arms. "of course i want to defeat nikador and return to castrum kremnos one day. but who says heroes don't need rest?"

"and you both decided to spend it with me of all people?"

"phainon mentions you a lot... we simply wanted to see for ourselves," castorice replies, "should we invite tribbie too?"

"please don't," you shrug your shoulders. "i'm only an npc, nothing to see here." [ are you sure about that? 🤨 ] suddenly, emojis?

"en-piii-she...?" castorices points a finger to her lip.

"em... piss... cee? what's that?" mydei lifts an eyebrow.

you were not gonna answer that again. [ castorice's affection +1! ] [ mydei's affection +1! ]

in the distance, threads begin to murmur a song. the dressmaster's fingers weave through her strings, strumming each one to orchestrate amphoreus’s future stage.

aglaea’s eyebrows dip. tribbie's ears opened at the first note, wary. "the threads are strained..."

[ (＠＾◡＾) ~ ] "phainon, dearie, how have you been?"

[ ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ ] "phainon, come look at the fresh fruit!"

phainon, is admittedly very popular, a stark contrast to you, like day and night. "how do you have so much energy to interact?" you question.

phainon is now petting a large dog, wearing a large grin when the dog licks his face. in your eyes, they are a pair of twins playing with each other. "i think it just comes naturally. it's a part of my duty to the citizens."

duty. the word is tiresome in your head. you crouch down, rubbing the large dog's fur. "then, is there anything you want to do for yourself?"

"oh..." he trails off, stealing a glance at you. the steady waves in phainon's eyes shine blue, finding your reflection in them on his horizon. "there are many things i'd love to do. you know, i'm jealous of you." [ (╬`益´) HE'S LYING-! ] you press the mute button.

"what do you mean?"

sunlight perches itself on top of his head, kissing the crown of his head like a tender mother to born babe. you feel your breath being stolen. he is surely nature's revered child. "i hope to be as free as you someday, doing whatever i want," he says (he doesn't know about the chest-stealing, does he?). a face steeled from suffering, regret, and past mistakes, smelts under your warm gaze. if you were to lift his lips up with your fingers, you would find it malleable without resistance. "away from all the chrysos heir business - it gets stressful at times."

your heart skips, understanding. beneath the exterior of a hero is someone who wants to live like every other ordinary person. your heart skips one more time, hearing how you could inspire a chase for freedom in him. [ your understanding of phainon has deepened ] an unsuspecting heat runs laps across your cheeks. you both wave goodbye to the dog. "so... you want to be an npc too?"

"n-p-c," phainon recounts, "an armpit sniffer?" he teases.

"nevermind." unconciously, you brush away the strands of hair obscuring phainon's eyes, taming his fur. his eyebrows lift, eyes radiant. ears redden. "ah..." a timid disappointment when you stop, fluffy ears drooping.

silently, you think the conversation over. duty... is that what creates purpose? should you find one too? does an npc need to think this extensively? perhaps this is a part of you speaking, begging to fit in with this foreign world.

freedom and obligation. can't both co-exist?

one day, you're haggling at the market stalls, firing words no one could understand. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

another day, you're falling off the dromases every minute. phainon watched you get strapped to the saddle with rope when all else failed. [ phainon's affection +1! ]

today, you ate agalae's stock of afternoon tea desserts. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

and tomorrow, you'll ask castorice and mydei to fight to the death to settle the philosophical dilemma of the 'unstoppable force vs. immovable object'. you told him of your evil plans. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

"uh, can you stop doing that?" you turn towards the human-sized dog behind you. [ phainon's affection +1 ]

phainon stops in his tracks. "doing what?"

you point at him. [ phainon's affection +1 ] "... nevermind." you give up. it's a bit endearing, honestly. you've come to appreciate his presence accompanying you. a small smile plays on your lips. [ phainon's affection +10!!! ] ..?

[ new mainline quest! 'chat with aglaea.' ]

that's was a great start to your morning; the deafening system alarm was a nice touch. you threw a fist at the pop-up, annoyed. [ this is abuse!! (ಥ﹏ಥ) ]

so now, you are in the bathhouse with aglaea [ and me! (*ˊᗜˋ*) ]. she slides a thick envelope across the table you were both sitting at.

hesitantly, you take it under her inspective gaze. apprehension takes root in your guts. you open the envelope. [ 7-7-7 TRILLION CREDITS??!! =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇) ] you look up at her, stunned. you only know how to mutter her name, "aglaea...?"

"i urge you to take it and travel far away," she explains, tapping the table with her finger. "the strife titan is closer than ever and amphoreus is losing itself to dark nights due to the black tide. yet, phainon is distracted at this crucial moment." the tapping stops. "and i suspect you are the cause of his straying mind."

you point at yourself, disbelieving [ (⊙_⊙) ☜ ? ]. "me?" you've seen this in dramas before - the part where the mother-in-law bribes her son's partner. you could almost laugh at the comparison. realistically, you would choose the money...

"-but that's not up to you," you frown, remembering yesterday. "phainon can choose what he wants to do."

you have come to understand each other, yes, the stars are re-writing your definitions - phainon, the great warrior who yearns for a quiet life, pledging to his one moon, and you, an outsider who went as they pleased yet also wanted to belong. if aglaea is to deny his longing desires, then it is to deny your existence.

"don't make me laugh," aglaea reprimands sternly. the threads in the air are tense, ready to cut. your throat cinches. "freedom is something we gave up long ago to devote ourselves to amphoreus's amity." a pained expression fades within a split second.

a heaviness spears into you, weighing you down. you look at your feet. she is right, but you can't help but feel pierced into. silence reigns the air.

ping! [ hey! (눈_눈) ] you look up. [ what are you doing right now? ]

...? [ you said you'd live freely! (albeit as an 'npc') why are you hesitating now? you're letting the system win! ]

"huh?" isn't that what the system wanted though? to have you obey the rules and the role of a typical mc. then again, when did you ever listen to it? "uh, well..."

aglaea stands up. "that's all i want to convey."

"wait," the words suddenly burst out, a wave of energy surging. [ go go! ] "... saving amphoreus, it's not only an obligation, but something all the chrysos heirs chose for themselves." [ ∑d(°∀°d) ] aglaea raises an eyebrow. she is letting you speak what could be your final words.

"... castorice wishes to recover her past. she will defeat thanatos and save amphoreus, to discover the world with newfound purpose."

"mydei hopes to return to castrum kremnos and sever the last ties. he will defeat nikador to protect amphoreus and his new life."

"and phainon has people he wants to protect. and to do that, he will save amphoreus to keep them safe."

"the chrysos heirs all share the same feelings as you, hearts strong; saving amphoreus, but to also save a future of their own as well. so... put more faith... in them..." the words die out when you realise that what you've been saying, to aglaea of all people. her stare is critical, analysing your flaws. "or don't..." well, it was a good life.

you are expecting the sweet release of death. but nothing comes. it is silent before aglaea sits back down, one leg crossing over the other. she rests her chin on her hand, looking into the distance. seemingly conflicted, as if not wanting you to look at her, but hoping you'd stay for a bit longer. the ice in the air warms bit-by-bit. you process the silent understanding with her, watching the water flow. [ aglaea's affection +1 ]

"don't die guys. seriously." you give mydei a pat on the back, and castorice a thumb up because she'll instantly dissolve you otherwise. "where's phainon?"

"i saw him on the rooftop... i think he's wait... ing..." castorice trails off, head bobbing from a lack of sleep presumably.

mydei scratches his head. "we'll head off first then," he sighs. "don't keep him any longer than you have to."

"why am i-" the pair gradually get smaller into the distance. "-the one to go?" [ new mainline mi- ] "yeah, yeah, i get it." you wave the message away. [ 凸( ` ﾛ ´ )凸 ] you smile. [ YOU LAUGHED- ] muted.

sure enough, you find the missing person on a rooftop. phainon is surprised to see you. you wave, approaching him. "yo."

"... yo." he mirrors, brightening like the sun. but behind the smile were shadows.

"what's up?" you ask.

phainon is in quiet contemplation. "i'm afraid, honestly," he starts, "i do want to defeat nikador. it's been a life-long goal."

"but... i wish i could run away too, away from the commitment. rest my eyes and not have to think or worry."

insecure, anxious. you saw hints of it before, but now he has cracked completely, revealing to you. the calm before the storm. a final exchange of all the unwritten words.

you make an inch for his hand, but unsure, you retract it. "you sound as if you'll die."

his eyes widen. "i didn't mean to insinuate..." he looks down forlornly, at the distance between his and your hands. the quiver in his fingers craves, agitated. "i can't die yet, there's too much i want to do." his eyes move to yours. but the embarassment he feels when you reciprocate it quickly deflects his gaze away.

skin to bone; rust to metal. they only rot to the test of time, and it is only in this way that phainon will release himself from the overworld. not to the titankin, not to nikador, but a natural harbinger. that way, every breath, down to his last, can be spent on you.

you really want to pet his head. thinking back to the conversation with aglaea, you construct your words, "come home after this. to amphoreus, to the chrysos heirs. afterwards, there will be time for your heart to rest."

all these answers but phainon didn't find one to the question he is searching for. he tugs at your sleeve, eyebrows frowning. you feel almost shy looking into his faithful eyes. "will you be there too?"

your mouth opens, "me?" his ears wait for an answer. his fingers fiddling your fabric to as if to annoy a response out of you. reject, accept, deny, he's begging for anything. it doesn't matter.

phainon is entirely devoted to you, for reasons he had yet to explain. this part of his story is not left out. claim, discipline, stipple your mark into him and his skin will not rebound from your carving. until skin melted into flesh, and flesh peeled off his bones, and bones pulverised into dust, everything would remain as history written on his body until then.

at the end of the day, into the night, he is waiting for you. he's hoping you'll do the same.

a velvet smile paints your face, heart beating, your answer as natural as day and night: "i will be waiting too." for him, and his story of devotion.

"when we reunite, let's make a world of our own. one we both belong to, and one where we are free to do everything we want. where the sun guides us and the moon watches over, co-existing." [ ... ]

rule #2 in the 'npc survival handbook': do not get involved with the chrysos heirs.

phainon finds solace in the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped around you but his hold trembles. you let him do as he please - let his heart, something he almost gave up, finally express itself, and you can hear his heart beat prove its existence. quietly, you card through his white strands with your fingers.

the sun begins to set.

"phainon, i order you to track this outsider. i do not know how they happened to breach okhema, but i suspect they fell from beyond the sky," agalae instructed, eyes sharpened. "if they make any suspiscious movement, or mention the forbidden, they must be dealt with swiftly."

thus, phainon watched over you, playing executioner. another mission, nothing new. leave them alone if proven harmless, execute if necessary.

standing upright on a rooftop, the first time he laid eyes on you, you were in the middle of marmoreal market, dazed, speaking... to no one? then the chest stealing, the sagelore fruit stuffed in your mouth, doing everything that you pleased - riding the loose currents of freedom, unrestrained by rules. without knowing, bright laughter left his rigid lips.

as days passed, disturbance grew. for whatever reason, the titankin were strongly attracted to you, as if you were an anomaly they had to eliminate. before one of them could strike you-

"hm?" as soon as you turned around to look, there was nothing there but the glaring sun quietly protecting you all along.

months passed like this and phainon slowly carved your existence into amphoreus. from the big movements, the twitching in your expressions. to the hollowness in your eyes when you watched the people chatter, the children running by, the scholars conversing. he saw it then. a black sheep walking among the herd; a shard of the night misfitting itself into bright daylight.

chaos worsened. the black tide brought night and agitated harmony's wavelengths. the titankin spiralled and even more were after your throat. took its toll on phainon as he stayed by your side when amphoreus was asking for him. it was one of the few times that he let his duties go for something he freely chose to do. although, the price to pay was hefty - it was him against many. and the threads hummed tunes about his misdeeds.

as much as the dark scared him, the night carried you to him on that fated day. you were going to kill him. open his stomach. stab his chest. those were most effective. but you felt so warm in his arms when he caught you.

in the back of his mind, a nagging hope procured a promising premonition. a hope brought to flame, his studying that came to fruition, when you tenderly looked after him.

he looked up at you. the moon softly caressed its shimmer upon you. you were moonlight. and from there on, the sun orbited the moon. a devotion that naturally made sense, that was meant to be.

days turned to weeks. you tried not to think about the emptiness. who are you? someone waiting for their husband to return home from war?

"hey kid, watch out." you steady a brown-haired kid before he could fall over again. he bows, thanking you. you learned his name was theophis.

"buying more sagelore fruit? come, come! the produce this season is at its ripest." their name was auguste.

"good morning, dearie. is phainon not here today either?" her name was hegesia.

again and again, you strolled around okhema, sticking names to familiar faces. the people grew to know you as time moved its hands - a sense of belonging and purpose in a place once foreign. you found yourself engaging with them, not because of a reward, or even being forced to do it.

it is then that you realise it. chatter, talking, noise. yet, everything is too quiet at the same time. no banter, no teasing remark... nothing.

in the middle of marmoreal market, you stand dazed again. something is supposed to guide you in moments like these. your heart is heavy, mourning a loss.

"system?"

the wind slips through your fingers, proudly holding your hand. it answers your call.

you are sound asleep when the night courses through your balcony, blowing the curtains with its star-glistened breath. the cautious clicking of boots unheard. fingers delicate, lips yearning, but settlling for gently pressing their head against yours, lightly rubbing back and forth. so careful, too delicate, a touch that only borders the rim of a minute gap between you and him, afraid to rouse you from your dreams.

"my moonlight... "

strangely, you slept well last night. and the night after that. and the next one too. you did your usual routine in marmoreal market and were about to head home when a strong gust of wind attacks you. "woah!" you hold your arms in front you.

the breeze gradually calms, tugging at your clothes. slowly, you lower your arms, feeling the familiarity in its touch. the wind guides you by the hand, dragging you hurriedly to the rooftop and you recognise his back.

"phainon?" he jumps a little at the sound of your voice, his tail wagging. his owner has returned. he awkwardly rubs a hand on the back of his neck, bashful - those ears are red again. what's he hiding?

his shoulders shake slightly. it is taking all his strength to not run into your loving arms. before he could, there was something in his cards to reveal. he turns around, closing the distance, and you finally meet his face. a very flushed one, that is. but a face you missed all the same. he clears his throat. "i want to explore amphoreus, find a quieter place," he says, structuredly, "i will return to okhema when needed, of course, but for now... the heart wants to rest," he extends his hand towards you. "will you come with me?" his hand trembles.

no pressure, no forcing. he is letting your heart decide the flow. he would go anywhere you wanted, as your desires are also his as much as it is yours. this is the freedom he wants, a drift of the wind that you decide, as long as he can ride along it with you. the direction does not matter when the amphoreus is only a speck in the universe, with so much to explore.

a smile creeps onto your lips. you steady his hand into yours. even after all this time, he acts like he's meeting you for the first time. "why wouldn't i?"

"oh," phainon immediately brightens. "g-great!"

you remember the well-rested nights. "but it was you, wasn't it? how come you didn't reveal yourself sooner?"

his encompassing hands fidget with your ring finger. "i... was practicing my lines for days." he looks away. "i was really nervous," he mumbles.

you grin. "what were you so afraid of? it's only me."

he chuckles. "you're right..." slowly, he takes your hand and presses it against his cheek. your cradle is a fondness reserved only for him. in his eyes, an affection that has accompanied you everywhere, since you first got here. a love that didn't need recognition, it only asks to follow you and shower him with the sound of your laughter when he gets lonely. "about everything, about us, i want to tell you how it all started from my eyes. ever since you got here..." -the sun had always followed the moon. he kisses your palm.

and before he forgets, phainon hands you an envelope. it is as heavy as you remember it to be. "all their blessings are in here, the chrysos heirs."

it really sounds like you are getting married. you let out a tired laugh.

there are no more rules. whether from a sense of obligation, freedom or loneliness, you'll both live how you want. become the main characters of your own stories.

"let's go!" with no time to waste, phainon excitedly takes you by the hand, legs flourished by the wind and trails of good fortune. the day is beginning to rise, and the sun is more than happy to follow his moonlight into the next day, and for all of infinity and evermore.

"godspeed to you," tribbie clasps her hands together in prayer, looking down at the pair from the far above. then, she smiles, her head swaying side-to-side. "searching for a small world of their own. it's almost like an elopement, isn't it, agy?"

aglaea hums, hand on her heart. the threads chime a ceremonial aria, the ice melts ever so little. "the heart... knows what it wants."

a person closes the novel they were reading. sighing, they pick up their phone and start typing again:

"this author has balls of steel to come back with another disasterous novel. so criiiiiiinge. where was castorice at the end? i was waiting for her! why is the male lead, a powerful warrior, reduced to a lovesick puppy? how does that make sense, you stupid author! such abysmal writing full of holes, leaking enough to fill an entire ocean. insanity, i say!" this random nobody criticises, slamming their fingers on the screen. they clear their throat. "hmph. the next volume better be coming soon."

a/n: im pooped, expect my third child to come out next year probably. everyone's invited to the baby shower, just make sure to bring ur best costumes. my back breaks everytime i have to argue philosophy with the reader and the characters like,, im being attacked from all sides. fun fact: ever since i prematurely posted my sunday fic, when im sleeping, everytime i hear a phone notif i instantly wake up bc i get scared thinking i accidentally posted again. so thats cool. new trauma gained ig😜 idk what else to say. like and subscribe, hit the bell icon for notifications. lemme know ur fav toothpaste brand. [ new achievement: 'thanks for reading!!' ヾ(*'▽'*)' ]

[ayukas]

MY BAMJJI TURNED INTO A HUMAN?! Σ(°ロ°)

bamjji who's been with you since high school, tucked lovingly onto the zipper of your backpack—always there, always soft, always still. the keyring is fraying at the seams from years of loyalty—from rain-soaked commutes and sunlit walks through campus, from being clutched too tightly during both moments of excitement and nights that hurt too much to breathe. all while still staying so painfully adorable.

bamjji who listens to your soft ramblings on the bus, your whispered rants about professors and friendship drama, about your heartbreak over that boy with constellations on his cheek who never once looked your way—soft ears bent from all your absent-minded fiddling. 

bamjji who you tuck under your chin at night. who smells faintly of custard from that one bungeo-ppang incident last semester. who absorbs your tears like they're meant for him. whose round face is the first thing you see every morning, blinking sleep from your eyes and wondering if anything in the world could be more constant than him.

bamjji who you lose one thursday evening. you come home, place your bag down, and he's just—gone. like a piece of your soul dropped off without warning. just emptiness where warmth used to be. you search the streets. retrace your steps. tear through your sheets. you even call your mom crying and she thinks someone died.

that night, you stand at your window and tilt your head towards the sky.

"please," you whisper to the stars above, to every alien and cosmic creature you've ever believed in, "bring my ji back to me."

a stranger with messy brown hair, sleepy eyes, and a paper bag of roasted chestnuts crinkling in his hand knocks on your door at exactly 5:02AM the next morning. a man who looks like he stepped out of a cartoon and fell into the real world—soft mole placed perfectly on his cheeks, pouty features, and a wide-eyed wonder like everything around him is both terrifying and fascinating.

"can i help you…?"

the stranger smiles, slow and soft, like the morning light curling through your curtains. like he's waited a long, long time to see you like this.

"i found my way home!"

you take a step back, eyeing the stranger more closely. there's something familiar in the way he rocks back on his heels, in the slight tilt of his head when he looks at you like you're his whole galaxy. the mole you once traced your thumb through fabric feels unmistakable now. there's a warmth blooming in your chest that feels like muscle memory—your body recognising him even when your mind can't quite believe it yet.

"bam…jji?"

human bamjji who stares at you like the sky handed him back every star it stole. he nods—slowly, shyly—like he’s still learning how to move in this strange new body, still figuring out how to balance his height, his limbs, the foreignness of feeling his own heartbeat.

you let him in before your brain catches up with your body. maybe it's instinct. maybe it's fate. or maybe it's just the way he stands there barefoot on your welcome mat, chestnuts in one hand , looking at you with that gentle, awestruck look in his eyes like you hung the moon just for him.

human bamjji who walks through your apartment like it's sacred ground. like every corner is both familiar and brand new. he gasps at the toaster—the same one you used to balance him on, pretending he was just another slice of bread. he pokes the alien sticker on your fridge with a look of solemn reverence. kneels beside your backpack and whispers, "i missed you."

you should be concerned. or at the very least confused. but instead, you boil water for tea, sit across from him at the coffee table, and ask if he's cold.

he shrugs, cheeks puffed. "only a little. but not when you talk."

human bamjji who follows you around like a confused puppy, trying to understand every light switch, button, and beep that was once too far away for him to reach, too real for him to use. he burns the eggs while trying to help with breakfast. gets overwhelmed at the grocery store and buys five different brands of cereal because they all looked cheerful.

human bamjji who stands in front of the mirror for hours. pokes at his own cheeks, his nose, and frowns. "my cheeks were rounder before…" he mumbles, mourning the plushness he left behind.

you laugh—fully, freely, almost too loud for the early morning. he startles, then beams at the sound. like your laugh alone makes his transformation worth it.

human bamjji who you find curled up awkwardly on your couch that night, knees tucked to chest, as if he's still the size of your palm. you drape a blanket over him, brushing the hair from his forehead—because your hands still remember how to care for him, even now. and quietly, you wonder what kind of magic could've stitched him into your life like this.

human bamjji who decides he needs a human name after a week of blushing and covering his flushed ears whenever you call him bamjji in public. you're mid-rushing a project, hunched over your laptop with three deadlines breathing down your neck, when he bursts into your room without knocking and blurts it out.

"jisung," he says, eyes wide and hopeful, like he's just gifted you the name of a star he discovered. "i read on google that it means stars in chinese. do you like it? do you think it suits me? ah... maybe i should think of another one…"

you glance up—noting his messy hair, wrinkled shirt, chestnut crumbs on his cheek—and nod. "i like it."

he beams so brightly you have to look away.

jisung who blushes even harder now than when you called him bamjji. who hides his face in your neck when you say his human name out loud, like the sound of it spoken in your voice makes his knees go weak.

jisung who whines dramatically whenever you pull him away from the roasted chestnut stand, dragging his feet like you're separating him from a long-lost lover. who insists the stall glows with a golden aura, a reunion of souls.

jisung who signs your notebook pages with hamster doodles, scribbles on the corners of your assignments and research papers, even doodles on the back of your receipts—as if afraid you'll forget the shape he once held in your life, and the new form he's learning to hold now.

jisung who tries to act all cool and mysterious but still cries during animated movies. sniffles quietly during inside out. clutches your sleeve tightly during wall-e. who gasps during alien documentaries and points out which ones he's apparently met before. who leans close and whispers conspiratorially, like he's sharing secrets only he and the stars know.

jisung who never forgets how you held him. who, even now, rests his cheek against your shoulder whenever you fall quiet. who listens for the rhythm of your heart like it's a lullaby he memorised a lifetimes ago. a melody that once told him he was loved—even when he couldn't speak it back.

jisung who you catch whispering to the sky sometimes. standing barefoot on your balcony in the dead of night, arms folded across his chest like he's sending something back.

he hums lullabies you've never heard before—soft and strange and impossibly sweet. his eyes closed, chin tilted towards the stars like they're old friends.

and when you ask him what he's doing, he turns to you with a sleepy-eyed grin, soft and shimmering with something almost otherworldly, and says,

"just thanking them."

thanking the stars above. thanking every alien and cosmic creature the two of you ever believed in.

thanking the universe for loving you so loudly that it brought him to life.

notes not proofread sorry :[ but writing this was so fun!!! the whimsy of aliens turning bamjji into a human... truly wonderful. happy reading!!!!!! (>ᴗ•)

perm. taglist ♡ @dreaminabtrj @ddolbyong @f6llsun @egojo1st @sungbites @nonverdolly @strwberie @blondemrk @chenlezip @markkiatocafe @stqrgr7 @jisungji @taroddori @haeriaes @kukkurookkoo @polarisjisung @dudekiss3r @dejundesign @uncasings @sweetpinkblueberry @spacejip @yushiela @insbread @t-102 @haelvrty @pl4netx1a @haeivie @natakgae @fae-renjun @sunghoonsgfreal @jaemcaffe @xikskrrrs @rubiiisyeon

[v1si0n]

LOVE ON THE (DANCE) FLOOR⚡️(L.JN)

SUMMARY: jeno was not thrilled about you joining his dance team, especially because he starts messing up every time you’re around. is it really his fault that he gets distracted by how good you look when you dance?

GENRE: smau, enemies to lovers, fluff, humor, angst, college au, dancer!jeno x bookworm!reader

WARNINGS: jeno is kinda mean, profanity, jokes about death, sexual jokes, slightly suggestive, inaccurate depictions of the majors that are mentioned, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of (mild) illness/injury, mentions of hard childhood/trauma

PLAYLIST: daddy issues by the neighborhood, safety net by ariana grande (ft. ty dolla $ign), you get me so high by the neighborhood, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys, lie to girls by sabrina carpenter, stargazing by the neighborhood

NOTES: hiiiiiiii i know i just posted jgmar like two weeks ago but i’m back with ANOTHER smau bc i cant stfu so strap yourselves in and lets get freak nasty‼️ special thanks to babygirl @domjaehyun for helping me with the banner💞💞💞

TAGLIST: open !!! please lmk if you’d like to be added :)

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

profiles(1): the dancers

profiles(2): the “nerds”

intro: donghyuck she’s SIX

ch.1: hater alert🚨

ch.2: girl…self respect..?

ch.3: tldr: i got jumped.

ch.4: in this house we stan winter.

ch.5: drama o clock🍿

ch.6: since we’re lying now…

ch.7: odd…peculiar even…

ch.8: jeno is a liar and a half.

ch.9: 1 step forward, 3 steps back

ch.10: the bells are ringing

ch.11: NOT jeffree star approved

ch.12: and the crowd is…concerned

ch.13: winter and y/n’s dorm📍

ch.14: geeking and tweaking

ch.15: get a load of this guy

ch.16: the cat distribution system

ch.17: okay guys what the flip…

ch.18: me and the voices

ch. 19: having a what on who😟

ch.20: anyone else scared?

ch.21: if i could fly

ch.22: bros cooked

ch.23: the adults are talking.

ch.24: jenos life is a joke.

ch.25:

[treeteaofversailles]

Fake Moaning? Not On My Watch…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: You fake moan into Zayne’s ear, and Zayne shows you how that was a bad idea. This isn’t connected to the “Should Have Been Me” universe.

Tags/TW: Smut. No plot. Fem!Non-MC!Reader. Zayne is a munch and likes to get absolutely nasty with it :P. PIV smut, fingering, cunnilingus.

A/N: here's a Zayne *tosses and runs away*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You leaned closer to him, turning your face and brushing your nose against his ear. Zayne thought you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek like you always had when you stopped by to visit him in his office while he was working. 

Instead, your lips nestled against his ear, and a shaky breath stuttered by his ear. 

And before he could ask you what you were doing, you exhaled the sweetest sound into his ear. 

“Ohh Zayne~!” You whined loudly. 

Your voice rang in his ear and sent shockwaves down his spine, settling low in his stomach. His cock twitched to life, instantly filling up the space in his cream-colored slacks. 

Zayne whirled around and glared at you, but you were already skipping out of his office. You even winked over your shoulder before closing the door behind yourself. 

He sat there for a few minutes, his ear still ringing with the sound of your saccharine sweet voice calling out his name like a siren. His face was so hot, he felt like he was going to ignite in flames. His fist tightened, and he clenched his jaw, trying to will the sound of your saying his name out of his head. 

He really needed to get back to work, or else he would be backed up for days. 

He took a steadying breath before he turned back to his work. Zayne pushed up his glasses and shifted in his seat, adjusting his slacks over his growing erection. 

Zayne kept typing, locking into the report so he could quickly get back to you. 

Meanwhile, you huffed, typing in the group chat with you, MC, and Tara. You tossed yourself on the bed, lying on your stomach as you texted your sister and your friend. Zayne’s t-shirt rose over your shorts as you kicked your legs in the air. 

“It didn’t seem to work, guys (╥_╥)” - You

“Told you it would take more than that to break the icy doctor (×﹏×)” - MC

“Don’t speak too soon~! Maybe he’s just finishing his work before he tends to you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧” - Tara

“You could double down and send him a picture of you in lingerie or in his clothes. It worked for me and Caleb” - MC

“That’s cuz Caleb is already a freak (ಠ_ಠ)” - You

“(¬‿¬ )” - MC

“Usually, I just throw in that I have plans with another man, and then Xavier is all over me.” - Tara

“That’s cuz Xavier is possessive af bro Σ(°ロ°)” - You

“That’s cuz Xavier is a freakier freak… (┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴)” - MC

You laughed at the conversation and continued typing away, completely unaware of someone creeping up behind you. It wasn’t until you sent another text, teasing Tara about the “bruise” on her neck last week, that you felt a pair of cold hands grab your thighs. 

You shrieked and dropped your phone before whirling around to see Zayne hovering over you, a dark look on his face. 

Your heart was slamming in your chest from the initial scare, and now it was beating harder from his eyes boring into you. The sweet emerald-gold of his hazel eyes was nearly gone, swallowed by the void of his pupils. 

“Had your fun yet?” he asked, his voice deceptively sweet, cooing in a faux innocent question. 

You tried to answer, but you shivered when his hands slowly slid up your thighs, going under the shirt you’d stolen from him. He massaged your hips and climbed on the bed, the mattress dipping under his knee. 

“You want to moan so badly? I’ll give you something real to moan about,” Zayne heaved breathlessly. 

You could only squeak in shock when he roughly dragged you to the edge of the bed. 

He kissed you roughly, drawing a soft moan from you. Zayne parted your lips and shoved his tongue inside, his giant hands grabbing at your body and tugging on your clothes. 

You crumpled under him, grabbing at his shirt. You kissed him back hungrily, ignoring your phone going off with texts from MC and Tara. You had more pressing matters to attend to. 

Like Zayne’s bulge pressing into your clothed cunt. 

You whined whenever the rough part of his slacks rubbed harshly against your increasingly soaking and aching pussy. 

“Zayne, please…” You whispered against his lips when he pulled back enough. 

“No. I’m going to have my fun first. You’re going to take it. And then, maybe, I’ll give you my cock,” Zayne’s gaze held your firm to the bed. “Understood?”

You swallowed thickly before nodding. 

“Good girl.”  

He yanked your shorts and underwear down in one go. Zayne spit on his fingers and brought them to your clit. He rolled the sensitive bud under his dripping fingers and smiled brightly at your squirming under his touch. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

You could only gasp and cling to his arms as he circled his fingers faster. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry of pleasure, your breaths escaping in short bursts. Your nails dug into his shirt. 

Zayne began to flick the sensitive bud, and your thighs constricted his waist. You hastily grabbed the sheets with one hand and covered your mouth with the other. 

“No, no, no,” he tutted sharply. “Let me hear you, baby. Let me hear how good you feel.” 

He used his free hand to free your mouth. Zayne laced their fingers together and circled his fingers faster. 

Your stomach was fluttering with that demented heat of your impending orgasm. It clawed under your skin, stealing your breath away. 

“Z-Zayne, ‘M-!” You whimpered. Zayne pulled his hand away, and he gently made shushing sounds when you whined loudly, pressing his lips to yours. 

“You were always so sensitive… You always came so quickly… But not tonight, darling. Tonight, you play by my rules.”

Zayne knelt on the floor. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you as I see fit.” 

That shouldn’t turn you on as much as it should have. But you obediently lay there on the bed, your legs spread wide open for him as he undressed to his comfort level, loosening his tie and undoing a few buttons of his shirt. Your pussy was aching so badly and clenched under his intense gaze. 

“Now…” he grabbed the underside of your thighs, spreading your pussy open so reverently under his thumbs. His eyes were so dark, and his cheeks flushed a deep rosy shade. Zayne stuck his tongue out and licked a long stripe along your folds. His grip tightened when you squirmed. He only moved his tongue to your clit, flicking it a few times before he focused on your dripping pussy. 

You broke into a moan, breathlessly crying out his name. You pinched a needy whine in your throat, but earned a sharp slap to your thigh. 

“Louder,” he ordered, his cheek squished against your thigh as he lapped his tongue faster on your dripping cunt. He panted heavily, the short puffs of air making your cunt clench around nothing. “You wanted to moan like a needy little thing in my ear. Now you get to, sweetheart.” 

You squirmed even more against the bed, his shirt rising up higher on your body the more you moved. Your nails sank into the sheets, and your head fell back, his name ripping from your throat when his tongue wiggled its way back inside you. His name echoed around the bedroom walls. 

“Good girl,” Zayne cooed, his glasses bumping askew on his nose against your leg. He looked up at you with eyes so dark with lust, and a deep blush dusted across his cheeks. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He smiled sweetly at your before flicking his tongue against your swollen clit, watching with glee when you whimpered loudly, your knees buckling around his shoulders. 

Zayne went back to wiggling his tongue around on your aching clit. Her eyes rolled to the back of your head when he got his lips around it and sucked. You mewled as more of your juices were gushing down your legs. It was staining his face, and he was smearing it all over your face again. 

You choked air into your lungs and looked down, your stomach tensing tightly with the next impending orgasm. Zayne was still diligently on his knees and hungrily slurping up all of your juices and burying his tongue so deep inside you. His teeth bumped and ground against your puffy folds, grating your nerves raw with mind-melting pleasure. 

His glasses were fogged up from his hot breath and your juices covering the gold-rim lenses. 

Your stomach fluttered wildly, making your legs even weaker than they were now. You warned him of your orgasm by grabbing his hair and pulling the soft, raven locks tight between your fingers. 

Your hips bucked a few times before your body snapped like a bowstring pulled taut. Your rapid, high-pitched breaths came out in long whines and whimpers as you came all over his face, gushing on his pretty nose and his glasses. 

You rutted a few times on his face and obsessive mouth before you came to a halt, falling against the tree with your full weight. 

“Naughty girl…” he huffed despite licking his lips as if he had just finished savoring the finest sake in the land. Your head was spinning so fast you couldn’t catch what he slipped after that name, but you were able to catch his next part, “You dirtied my glasses.” 

Thick globs of your cum trailed down the gold-rimmed glasses. It barely hid the way his eyes bore into you. His eyes were dark, completely molten with his arousal. He pressed his face against your again, gathering up as much of your juices and cum off your body as he could with his tongue and smearing more onto his glasses. 

Zayne still held your quivering thigh in one hand and pulled his glasses off with the other. He stuck his tongue out and licked all over the lens before dragging it over the glasses' round shape slowly and tantalizingly. All the while watching your as he gathered up the thick globs of your cum on his tongue, painting it white. 

You weren’t able to apologize again when he got to his feet and kissed you hard. You tasted yourself on his tongue and mewled from your cum being smeared all over your tongue and lips. The heady taste of your arousal mixed with his lips caused you to squeeze painfully around nothing, the emptiness inside you suddenly, and agonizingly, unbearable.

“Ohh Zayne~!” you whined against his hot mouth, still fervently kissing your as if he were dying. Your hands went to his shirt and yanked it open, exposing his beautifully toned chest to the world. 

You undid his belt and drooled more at the feeling of his cock straining against his briefs. You barely got your fingers around the soaked fabric to expose his cock when he slapped your hands away. 

“Needy little slut,” he growled against your lips. “Turn around.” He slapped your still-exposed ass and you keened into his mouth. “Ass up.” 

You shuddered from his gruff voice ordering you around, your pussy clenching nothing. You quickly did as you were told, trying not to come again from how he was manhandling you. 

Zayne yanked your shirt up so hard that he shoved you deeper into the mattress. You stumbled to regain your hold. Her exposed pussy clenched from the cold air slapping against it and the way you felt his eyes boring into you. 

“Look at her,” Zayne purred. A thick and hot wet drop slapped against your cunt, causing your to flinch before you moaned when you realized he’d spat on your pussy. His rough fingers smeared his saliva more into your folds, combining his spit with your continuously dripping slick. 

  “A beautiful pussy for a beautiful lady,” Zayne kissed along your spine. One of his hands stayed on your cunt while the other snaked up your back and twisted into your hair, yanking your back when he got a good handful. 

You let out such a slutty moan that your cheeks flamed from how filthy you sounded. 

“All for me? Is this all for me, baby?” he cooed. 

You nodded instantly, pushing back against him and grinding up against his hard length. “Yes, sir! Yes! Yes, please! I want your cock!” 

Zayne moaned and hissed a breath in before slapping your ass, digging his fingers into your flesh before replying. “So needy for me… Gonna treat you right. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

You mewled eagerly. There was a soft shuffling of his underwear being pushed down and not much other preamble before he pushed his cock inside you. 

Your mouth dropped open and a long wanton moan was dragged out of your as each inch of his hard, throbbing cock was buried inside you. Your knees went weak instantly. 

No matter how much you had him inside you, you will never get used to his thick girth stretching your so taut around him. Every bump and grind of his veins running along his cock worked your walls open, stretching your so snugly around him. 

He was barely halfway in when you were already pushing yourself back against him. 

“Be patient,” Zayne grunted and slapped your ass again. But you knew he was equally as desperate from the strained timbre of his voice. He grabbed your shirt, twisting the fabric tight around his fist several times, pushing you into the sheets. “Stay fucking still.” 

“I’m sorry, sir!” You whined and looked behind you. “Just need you so bad!” You pouted a bit when he stopped, motivating your to push your hips back some more, pushing his cock deeper inside you. His drooling and obscene tip was so, so close to kissing your sweet spot that it was making your head spin even faster. 

“Come on, Doc,” you looked up at him from under your lashes. His jaw flexed as he glared at her, his hands tightening to the point of bruising the shape of his fingers on your skin. “Come on, I want you to fuck me alre—!!”

Zayne cut your off by ramming the rest of his cock into you. Her breath slammed out of your lungs. His name began to echo around the bedroom from your lips with each bullying hit. 

His cock pummeled your sweet spot, knocking your harder and harder into the bed. Your nails tore up the sheets, trying to grab for a stable hold. He wasn’t letting you catch your breath in the slightest. 

Every sound punched out of your body from his brutal thrusts and his own grunts and panting was pure music to your ears, filling you with a darker and hungrier need for the doctor. 

The rotund tip of his cock was grinding against your sweet spot. If you tensed your stomach enough, you could feel every drag and shove of his cock in you. 

Shit, he was going so deep you could feel him in your lungs. 

He let go of your shirt and found his way to your hair and yanked your back, sending thrilling bolts of pleasure down your spine.

“Feel me in your lungs, huh?” Zayne laughed hotly against your ear. You choked up a confused whine when you realized he heard her. “Feel me that deep?” 

He brought his hand to your front, pushing down on your stomach, making your feel his cock pummeling your insides even better.

You sobbed in ecstasy and squeezed the doctor’s cock tighter. 

Your thighs were quivering with each calculated hit against your increasingly overwhelmed bundle of nerves, shaking uncontrollably no matter how hard you dug your knees into the soft earth beneath her. 

The doctor was ruthless and unforgiving in his thrusts. His rough hands pressed hard on your body, molding you to a shape befitting his touch.

Tears streamed down your face, and you turned back to Zayne, his hand still wound in your hair. 

“Z-Zay…” 

Zayne turned his head and caught your lips in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, still whining and panting against his tongue as he licked into your mouth. 

“I’m so close! ‘M so—!” You shuddered. 

“Come for me,” Zayne pleaded, his hazel eyes locking with hers. “Come for me, my beautiful girl.” 

Your breath hitched in a sob and you cried out against his jaw as you came, your cunt convulsing around his throbbing cock. Her walls squeezing him did little to slow him down. Zayne milked you of your orgasm, securing your hips in his hands to chase his own orgasm. 

Zayne gave a few more deep thrusts before he spilled his hot seed inside you. He groaned loudly and lay over you, grinding his hips slowly to make sure his entire load was trapped inside you. 

You were breathing raggedly. You curled under him, humming softly whenever he pressed kisses to your face and exposed body. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice ragged. 

You nodded and turned around as best as you could, being pinned under him. You kissed his cheek. “Yeah,” you kissed him again, smiling when his lips were drawn back to yours again. 

“Had your fun?” 

You giggled and nodded, “Yeah.” You looked at him carefully, “It’s been a while. I missed you.” 

He hummed softly, his hands smoothing up and down your sides. “I missed you, too. Been too long.” 

You caressed his face for a few more moments, taking in the beautiful curve of his cheekbones and the slope of his nose. You kissed him, turning around slowly, carefully disloding his flagging cock from your cunt. You lay on the bed so your chests were pressed together and wrapped your arms around him, kissing him more reverently. 

Zayne’s hands traveled up and down your sides as he drank up your affection. You pressed their foreheads together, lying tangled in each other’s arms.