#delayed post

[thewritersofdeceased]

Please can we get a grumpy x sunshine trope with vance and reader ? It's my fav trope 🤭

GRUMPY VANCE X SUNSHINE READER?? COUNT ME IN

✩ “i’m going to sleep.” “no, don’t.” “why not?” “just keep talking…please?” - @celestialwrites

" Vance, sweetheart, I'm tired." The voice of someone spoke softly, cuddled up in the arms of the famous "Pinball" Vance Hopper. That was a whole story in itself on how Y/N and Vance had began to date. But amongst them dating, Vance was practically putty in Y/N’s hands. That was something the blonde’s friend group had begun to notice. At least Bruce and Griffin had. He knew those two were the most observant of the whole group, and he despised it sometimes. A soft sigh escaped Vance as his head rested upon his lovers head, moving slightly to rest it against their shoulder now. “..no.” The blonde would mutter out, tired himself. Yet he’d never admit he was tired. The blonde constantly stayed up for hours beyond recognition, even if it was terrible for his sleep schedule. No wonder why he would always fall asleep in at least two classes. Which wasn’t a surprise to Y/N. A yawn escaped the (h/c)’d individual, who tried to move out of Vance’s hold. “I’m going to bed.” They mumbled out, earning a whine of protest from the blonde behind them. 

Vance was half awake himself, of course he was, but he didn’t want his lover to move. “..no, don’t..” The blonde behind mumbled out softly as his hold on his love never left. The two had been relaxing on the couch, Vance’s parents out for the night, at least his father. Y/N knew of Vance and his father’s relationship, and knew that it was wonky by all names in Denver. Y/N  held a partially confused look on their face as Vance spoke tiredly into their back. “...why not?” Y/N questioned their boyfriend, looking over their shoulder to the blonde, who’s face remained hidden. Vance didn’t reply for a little bit, his shoulders rising and falling at an even pace. Y/N was glad the blonde was more relaxed, but they were tired and were bound to go upstairs and pass out in their boyfriends bed. If he would let them go, that was. Vance was half awake himself, of course he was, but he didn’t want his lover to move. “..no, don’t..” The blonde behind mumbled out softly as his hold on his love never left. The two had been relaxing on the couch, Vance’s parents out for the night, at least his father. Y/N knew of Vance and his father’s relationship, and knew that it was wonky by all names in Denver. Y/N  held a partially confused look on their face as Vance spoke tiredly into their back. “...why not?” Y/N questioned their boyfriend, looking over their shoulder to the blonde, who’s face remained hidden. Vance didn’t reply for a little bit, his shoulders rising and falling at an even pace. Y/N was glad the blonde was more relaxed, but they were tired and were bound to go upstairs and pass out in their boyfriends bed. If he would let them go, that was. 

It took Vance a couple minutes of silence before the curly haired blonde spoke again. “Just.. .keep talking… please..?” His voice was soft before Y/N let out a soft sigh. “Vance, babe, how about we go upstairs so we can both be more comfortable?” They questioned as the blonde’s hold had released Y/N, allowing them to stand up. He didn’t have his vest on, just a pair of comfortable pants and a shirt with a random band on it. Something or some band he liked, most likely the band that always played on the Jukebox in the Grab N’ Go. That “Fox on the Run” song would always get stuck in their head as they’d hang at the convenient store with their boyfriend. “Yeah… yeah.. We can do that..” Vance mumbled out as Y/N gently took his hand. They knew that Vance was bound to fall asleep soon as he hit the pillows on the bed. That’s something they took note of as they dated the blonde headed boy. 

As Y/N led Vance up the stairs and pushed open the door to their boyfriend’s room, they were right on the blonde practically falling onto his bed. A soft hum of satisfaction escaped Vance as he laid on the bed, rolling onto his side so Y/N could curl into his arms. “Come onnn…” The blonde whined out, his pale blue eyes looking up to where Y/N stood. The (h/c)’d individual raised a brow slightly at their boyfriend before going to turn off the small light Vance appeared to have on a desk. Which most likely had a bunch of random scribbles or knife marks into it. Which was true when Y/N looked at the desk in question. “You need to be more careful with your desk, my love. At least it isn’t the walls.” They mumbled out as they walked over to the bed, staring down at their boyfriend for a moment. Vance moved back, making room for Y/N to climb under the covers with them. Softly, as the blonde wrapped his arms around his partner, pulling them so their back was against his chest. With a tired tone of voice escaping him, he’d mutter softly, but loud enough so his love could hear it. “...goodnight, dork..” He meant the name in a playful and loving way. No way in hell would he insult the other. “...goodnight, jerk.” Y/N replied softly, shaking their head and beginning to allow theirself to fall asleep and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere between themself and the boy behind them.

[mythicalartistx]

As If

Just showing a certain character saying this phrase that helps figure out

SPOILERS ON WHO HE TRULY IS

[unbloomingmoonflower]

FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt 16: Jerk

Putting one of my older stories here, because it applies for the noun definition of jerk.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The battle against Ranj’it had been difficult; but Thancred ultimately succeeded, though no worse for wear. 

He’d been waiting for Shuri to return with Ryne, seeing the younger girl’s hair having changed. It appeared she made her choice. 

And he had to make one too. One to make right--to make amends--with the Au Ra who was so furious with him, who now approached him to check the extent of his injuries.

“I’m fine, Shuri,” Thancred muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You received far too many blows to the head to be considered fine, idiot.” Shuri huffed and, with a flick of her wrist, she changed into her mage glamour. Urianger approached, clearly ready to heal Thancred instead, but Shuri gave the astrologian a faint smile and a nod of her head and he backed down. 

If that wasn’t a sign for Thancred to make amends now, then it would never come again. 

“A word in private, Shuri?” he asked, as the Xaela began to tend to Thancred’s wounds. Mismatched irises lifted to his face, brow quirking upward. “About what?” she countered. 

“I think you may know.”

Shuri continued to look at him silently before nodding with an exhaled breath. “All right, Thancred,” she allowed, sheathing her staff. “A word in private, then.”

Getting to his feet with a grunt, Thancred walked away from the group, Shuri following. Alphinaud and Alisaie made a motion to follow, concern clear in their eyes; they knew the history between the two. Shuri glanced back at the twin, waving a hand to them and giving them a soft smile. “It’s fine, you two,” she assured. “Just a word with Thancred.”

She had always been so kind like that. Thancred never could have seen Shuri any differently if he tried. She was always smiling, always gentle and kind. She would put everyone else first before her own wellbeing. It was one of the things Thancred loved about her.

His expression hardened at the thought that flitted through his mind. Thancred realized only too late of Shuri’s adoration for him--and it was when he lost her to another. Estinien treated Shuri far better than he ever could, not shying away from the Xaela’s love for him.

Thancred had said cruel things to Shuri in regards to her relationship with the retired Azure Dragoon. 

Once there was distance between them and the others, Thancred turned to the Xaela. She was still as delicate as when he first met her in Ul’dah, yet there were subtle changes from the numerous battles she had fought. There was a certain weariness about her that he knew that one day, she would hang up her mantle. 

“What did you want to talk about Thancred?” asked Shuri, crossing her arms over her chest, her head canted to the side as she scanned him with those winter eyes. She was pale as the moon and her eyes were the embodiment of winter itself. He could count how many times he’d lost himself in her eyes, even when saying such despicable things. 

“I’m sorry.” The words left him, lacking the usual grace in which he had once dazzled her. He, too, was hardened by battles and loss. “It was not right, for me to lash out at you. To insult you and your relationship with Estinien. I...I had no right to feel envious and to hurt you like that.” 

As he spoke, Shuri listened, her expression slowly softening as her arms lowered from her chest just slightly. “You think I was hurt by that? Angry surely, but not hurt.”

Thancred’s own eyes widened at her words and Shuri took his silence to continue. “You’ve hurt me once, and only once. When I confessed my feelings for you, you distanced yourself from me. You never gave me an answer until someone else healed my broken heart. You say you have no right to be jealous--and you would be correct. We were never anything more than friends and comrades. You made that very clear.”

So that was how the Xaela saw it. After Minfilia gave herself to be the Word of the Mother, when Shuri confessed her feelings in a flurry of grief, Thancred simply kissed her on her forehead and walked away. He did put distance between them, a gap so vast that Shuri gave up and nursed her broken heart. Thancred was in the lifestream in the duration that Shuri and Estinien became close.

And Shuri gazed at Estinien in the same way she once gazed at him.   

“However...you are one of my closest comrades. And as hardheaded as you are...” There was a slight laughter in her voice now, “...well, I am still here. As are you, yes?”

Her words brought a faint smile to Thancred’s lips. Yes, she was right; she had gain far more perception than when he first met her. “Yes. As friends,” he agreed, holding out his hand.

And she took it to seal the past behind them. 

[agentplutonium]

So,,, that HBS vid was something. Continues to give fuel for my Angel interpretations, because they’re a menace sure but like how far are we talking here. Grabbing David’s ass is something that i could see them doing and i’m glad we got confirmation for it. I’m so normal right now. i just woke up, but i am definitely So Normal About Them. I’m totally not short circuiting at what was said-

[thatdevoteddeveloperguy7]

Gotta figure out how to find 4chan messages from their id numbers. That way I might satisfy my curiosity while I convince someone to read this slumbering masterpiece with tried and true quotes.

EDIT: This is from november 2023, I just forgot to post it.

I’ve found it.

The most accurate summary of Homestuck.

[milafm2002]

( * Trigger Warning Swearing )

Happy Music Friday In This Case Wednesday Everyone

This Weeks Songs Are...

Fire - Pvris 2015

Still Falling For You - Ellie Goulding 2017

Mans World - Marina 2021

Tom Tom - Holy F*ck 2016

Enjoy And Theres More To Come

[i-like-swiss-cheese]

"The road to fascism is paved with people telling you to stop overreacting"

[ms-big-blue-eyes]

how many times do I have to justify diminishing my own feelings for the sake of you?

[ceruleanvulpine]

everyone is like oh this season is about metaphorical adolescence and teen rebellion but when I, harmony cobel, get high with my hometown ex and kiss him in my dead mom's bed, they don't like it for some reason

[mythmagicetc]

buck teasing eddie while they're on facetime and eddie goes "oh you love me" and buck says "WHAT noidon't. what are you talking about. did tommy tell you to say that? did MADDIE tell you to say that??you're straight. and this isn't even your house. and i, hate you." and then he hangs up

[ghostbird-art]

Sleepover Gothic

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

hey guys can you watch over these critters for me thanks

[totalswagisland]

this stupid ass meme redraw. maybe someday ill draw normal ship art but not today

[surely-sims]

Mr. Mysterio's Floating Circus - Simblreen 2024 🎪

Welcome to the Carnival!  This year for Simblreen I teamed up with my most beloved @doctorsimcraft again to put together a little set of Sims 1 Makin' Magic inspired Carnival CC. We had a ton of fun making this together and I think a lot of the pieces came out so nice.

🤡: This CC set includes lots of fun new items to get you started building your perfect carnival. Besides the buy mode items, there are also three new cloth roofs, a matching roof trim, and three new wallpapers. 🤡: We've also included our full Magic Realm Carnival Build for downloading and playing with.

In order to keep everything neat, Simcraft and I have decided to keep the downloads in one place, just in case anything needs to be updated in the future. I apologize for any inconvenience. 💗

TERMS OF USE

SIMBLR | TWITCH | TWITTER | BLUESKY

MORE INFO AND DOWNLOAD ON PATREON 🤡🥁

[sleepsucks]

[changbunnies]

Devourance (18+)

♡ Pairing: Dracula / Nosferatu!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: vampire au, dracula / nosferatu au, 1800s au, human / vampire relationship, horror themes, reincarnation, soulmates, smut

♡ Word Count: 3.9k

♡ Summary: Hyunjin has crossed oceans of time to find you– the one who's blood calls to him, who beckons for him in the dead of night, who yearns for his touch against all conceptions of what one must and must not desire. The ancient Vampyr has an appetite for you; an appetite that won't ever be sated.

♡ General Warnings: reader has depression (referred to as melancholy), reader is a lucid dreamer, usage of vampire abilities (invading dreams, shapeshifting, heightened senses), hyun's true form is very Creature Vampire so. still sexy if ur a monster fucker like me but some of y'all may not like that lmao

♡ Smut Warnings: does having sex with someone inside their dream count as somnophilia? idk !!, outdoor sex (kind of; it's a dream so they're not really outside lol), wet dreams, pet names (my love, my heart), referenced biting and blood drinking, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: originally, when i was planning my late kinktober fics, this was strictly a dracula au (as i love the 1992 movie and have a beautiful copy of the book sitting in my horror novel collection <3) but i saw the nosferatu remake in theaters and it rotted my fucking brain lmao so this became a blend of both ! i hope you enjoy it, cause i had a blast writing it <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

It starts as a dream; a waking one, so vivid and lucid that the line between conscious reality and imagination blurs, all perception of time and space bending and warping to what your subconscious mind feels most safe and familiar.

Your hands clasped together, a deep breath before you close your teary eyes, your souls desires laid out in a whispered prayer– "Come to me."

Who are you asking for? Who will heed your call? A friend you wish to have, but have yet to obtain? An imaginary prince charming who will right all the wrongs of your life with his presence alone? God himself? Death?

You do not know– all you know is that you are desperate for an escape from the melancholy that permeates your life, seeping its way into every crack of your porcelain heart, as thick and murky black as tar. It sticks to you, wraps itself around every cell, clinging to you in a loveless embrace.

Even in your dreams you cannot escape it; so often you hear tale of joyous dreams. Dreams in which you stand upon the altar, waiting to be wed to the love of your life, dreams in which you share a dinner with one you admire, or dreams in which you have coveted all that you desire.

You are regaled with recollections of dreams full of simple pleasures; warm and nostalgic, dreams of playing in the front yard as a child, with your mother's freshly baked bread wafting to you from the open window. Dreams of early school days, where one's only worry in the world was what they'd play when they got back home.

For some, dreams are entirely nonsensical; there is often no clear purpose, nor story, nor concrete feeling– but it is pleasant in its own right, and entertaining to recall the absurdities in which you found yourself in the middle of.

You do not experience such simple pleasures.

While for others, dreams are a pleasant escape from everyday life, a blissful end to an arduous day of work, your dreams are an extension of your reality. They offer no comfort, nor joy, nor escape from your bleak, mundane existence. You are ever as aware of yourself whilst asleep as you are while conscious, feeling every emotion just as strongly as you do in the light of day.

You wish you could say you have adapted to life with your melancholy, or learned to be at peace with it, or that you don't mind having no escape. But the truth of the matter is that your dreams being not a safe haven as they should be tolls on you, made worse by the fact that even in the sanctuary that should be your mind, you are utterly alone and miserable.

So there you stand in your waking dream, wishing for a change. A mirror of your reality, your status within your dream reflects the state you were in before falling to sleep. You are in your bedroom, as pitch dark as you left it when blowing out the candles, the only illumination coming from the moon shining through your balcony doors.

You stand in the middle of the room, hands clasped and eyes closed as you whisper your prayers, the same lily-white chemise you wore to bed draping your body. So perfect a recreation of your surroundings, that were it not for the fact that you so vividly remember adhering to your sleep routine and laying your head against the pillows, you might not even be able to say that this was a dream at all.

And though it is just the confines of your mind, and you are certain no one but God can hear you (if he will listen, and hasn't yet turned his back on you), you plead. 

"Come to me. A guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere– anyone, anything. Please, hear my call."

There is naught in the room but silence when you are finished; you are as alone with your thoughts as you ever are. You take a breath, blink away building tears, readying yourself to try again– and then, to your greatest surprise, there is a response.

For the first time in all your many dreams, a voice answers you– soft, an indistinct whisper akin to your own, but you hear it echo in the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips as you look around the room.

Slowly, you lower your hands, taking an unconscious step forward, closer to where the voice calls to you from your balcony. You cannot yet discern what the voice is saying, nor can you see their figure, but you watch breathlessly as the lock on your balcony doors seems to unlatch itself, a sudden gust of wind pushing it open.

The air is cooler than you'd expect for a late spring's breeze, but you do not shiver or shrink away from the sudden chill; instead, you tentatively take another step, following the unfamiliar, beckoning voice. The voice becomes clearer the closer you step to the balcony, and though you see nothing out of the ordinary before you, you feel them.

No, to say you do not see them is not right– invisible in your mortal gaze, yes, but the moon casts their shadow on your wall, your curtains billowing with the steady breeze capturing their inhuman silhouette. And surely it is merely a trick of shadow that makes the figure appear so inhuman– because how else can you grapple with so foreign a creature standing before you?

You rationalize the impossibly tall silhouette as the moon elongating their shadow, the sharp and pointy length of their nails having simply become exaggerated, the unnatural point of their ears the result of a penumbra trick. Their figure vanishes with each fall of your curtains, reappearing with each rise; but their shadow ever lingers, eerie black against your ivory walls.

Their shadow serves as a reminder, you think– that even when you cannot see them, they will be there. Watching, beckoning, waiting; the voice, once so indistinct and otherworldly, is now crystal clear in your ears. Soft but luminous, it calls you as you take another cautious step closer.

"You," the voice starts, and though soft, it is an aching rasp– reminiscent, you think, of when one has fallen ill, or of times when one's throat has grown stiff from disuse. You have no further time to ponder if this is the man's– creature's?– natural inflection; for in just a few more careful utterances, their tone smooths, the soft voice becoming silken.

"You," the male voice repeats, smooth as satin and utterly mesmerizing, "I have heard you. And I answer in turn– come to me."

The shadow moves along your wall then, creeping closer to you; it feels as if it envelops you, embracing you with a blissful warmth you've never before felt. It clings to you with each step, but it does not feel like the melancholic tar you are accustomed to; it is a gentle ribbon, guiding you further with promises of sweetness you have so long craved.

Holding now to the railing of your balcony, you look to the gardens below. There you see him, standing amongst the tall, twisting trees and blooming lilacs. He gazes up at you, eyes black as a void, and yet they still shine in the light of the moon.

And just as a void promises to, his look swallows you whole. You lose yourself in the dark, hypnotic pool of his eyes, stumbling forward almost blindly, with one simple thought– you must go to him.

You are before him in an instant, though you have no recollection or understanding as to how. Did you walk off the balcony and fall below? Did you turn back and trek through the house to make it to the gardens? Is this the absurdity of dreams that normally eludes you, or is a greater power at work?

The answer seems of little importance; bewitched by the man standing before you, you find that logic and rationality hold no value. He is here, perfection and beauty embodied wholly– the answer to your prayers; that is all you care to know.

Your hand trembles, your utmost desire now to reach out and feel him beneath your fingertips, to confirm that he is not just a figment of your dream– that there really was someone in this world who could hear you from beyond, and cared enough to respond to your call.

Hair as black as his eyes, a few long strands falling over his perfect cheekbones, while the rest is tucked behind his normal, and not at all pointed, ears. He has full, plush lips shaded in an enchanting, muted red, with a little mole under his left eye and utterly flawless, pristine skin.

He is ethereal, and radiant, and he is here for you– and while his eyes hold a darkness you have never before seen, his smile is impossibly tender. He takes your trembling hand in his own, and you can feel his nails poke your skin as he closes it around you.

They are long, yes, but not as long and pointed as his shadow would've led you to believe them to be. There is a part of you that decides you were correct to think his features were simply exaggerated and warped by shadow, though the deep recesses of your heart and mind know this isn't true.

Whatever he is, whoever he may be– he is not of this world, you know that for certain. For who else in the world could hear you? Who would have the power to meet you in your mind? A trickster, an angel, a devil? It matters not, you decide; for perhaps, in some ways, you are not of this world either.

Perhaps you have always felt melancholic, twisted, and odd, because your destiny did not reside with your fellow man– perhaps it lied here, with this creature who wears the mask of the beautiful sort of prince charming you've yearned for.

His shadow was the truth of his being, you innately know, and yet it gives you no fear. He squeezes your hand, a reassurance, while the other rises to cup your cheek in his palm, a tender rub of his thumb along the skin where he holds you. His gentle touch is ice cold, but it spreads warmth through your body regardless– because oh, how you've longed for the companionship of another.

"You are for me," he whispers as he inches closer, your noses on the precipice of touching, "and I, you. Do you believe in destiny?" He stares at you, observing you closely as he awaits your answer. You swallow, heart quickening as you hold his gaze.

"Yes," you utter softly; for in the depths of your soul, you feel it– the immutable pull that tells you this is where you must be. Beside him, in his arms, at his side for all eternity– and he will love you, this you know true; because even down to the very marrow of your bones, your body says it is so.

He has searched for you for an age; not someone like you, no. You. Only you. And his delight to finally have heard his beloved's call, and to answer– it is an unparalleled joy, one that he expects you to share. For even in your mortal life, your blood sings for him just the same as it did those many, long centuries ago.

You were promised to him then, as you are now– and he will have you, just as he did then. First in sleep, as you are now, but someday soon he will find you in the physical world once more. He will hold you in his arms, your reunion as joyous as it is profane. Rejoice, as you join him back to your true home; the castle, your castle, where every moment was spent in unholy exuberance.

"Do you remember?" he asks, voice honey-sweet, "remember how we once were?"

You do not, not really– your mind has no recollection of the man before you. But your soul remembers, has carried the weight of centuries of love and longing with it all this time, waiting for the moment all the feelings harbored within could finally be unearthed.

"I know you," you answer, truthfully; because while this is your first meeting in this life, you recognize him all the same. In the deepest recesses of your memory, he is there, gazing upon you with the same reverence he does now. He holds you close, kisses you tender, his touch along your skin slow and gentle, his name a whispered prayer on your lips.

Hyunjin.

His eyes light up when you call his name, a smile growing on his perfect lips. Hyunjin would know you anywhere, and there was never any doubt you were his love– but all the same, it is a great relief to hear his name fall from your lips again after so many years spent longing for it.

He kisses you then, doing his utmost to relay the depths of his passion, while also holding the carnality he feels for you at bay– the last thing he wishes to do is overwhelm you with his appetite too soon. You are his affliction, his every desire, he must have you; and he can only pray that you will not deny him, or yourself, the pleasure– but only when the time is right.

"You will be mine once more," he says; a statement, not a question, between kisses to your lips, "as I am eternally yours." Your nerves tingle, blood alight as you return his affections, meeting his lips with urgency.

"I will have you," he continues, almost breathless as his lips begin to trail down your neck, "Will you swear it? That again, we are for no one but each other?" His breath tickles your skin, the points of two sharp teeth touching the sensitive pulse point. You shiver as his fangs linger there, closing your eyes as your heart thunders in your chest.

Hyunjin can not truly drink from you here, not in the confines of your dream, but his teeth against your neck serve as a reminder– that your blood is his greatest temptation. Should you promise yourself to him once more, he won't be able to resist you– as there is no taste sweeter than the blood of his beloved.

"I swear," you whisper your promise; for you will never fear him, nor can you deny the ecstasy that comes when he drinks from you. “ever-eternally, I am yours.” 

He is a beast of nightmares, a plague set upon the world, a ruinous omen of death, your immortal Vampyr; and you are safe in his hold. For he loves you and needs you too greatly to cause you any harm– an affection that contradicts his nature, but what a welcome contradiction it is. 

When you meet his gaze once more, his eyes burn with desire; it has been an agony, truly, to have such carnal desire for you all these centuries. And he could do naught with his desires but wait– wait for the day you would return to this world, and pray that your body and soul would still sing for him the way it once had. 

Hyunjin could have taken concubines, could’ve shared his castle with any great number of men or women– but they would not have been you. None can sate him the way you can, none can spread such flames of passion through his icy veins, none can make his eternally still heart feel as if it beats. It is not a vain promise when he says you are the only one for him– he means it with every fiber of his immortal being.

Your heart and soul, now free from their sepulchre, burn with need. He can hear the erratic thump of your heart, the blood rushing through your veins, can smell the arousal pooling between your legs. You desire him, just as he desires you– and he decides then that the time is right; there is no need to be cautious and careful with his affections.

You want him, and he wants you– and you will have each other, now and forever.

Hyunjin kisses you once more, hungry and urgent. He pulls your body flush to his own, holds you tightly as the wind rolls quickly past you. You realize, when you pull away to catch a breath, that your surroundings have shifted. Now in the center of the estate’s hedge maze, he lies you down on the stone bench beneath the grand statue of Mnemosyne.

You shiver against the cold stone, but he warms you with another kiss. His tongue meets your lips as his hand dances around the bottom of your chemise, lifting it up just enough to expose your lower half. His hands find your thighs, the points of his nails digging at the soft flesh as he squeezes you in his palms. 

It elicits a needy sound from deep within, one that you almost don’t recognize as your own. You feel the sharp points of his teeth with your tongue, while he spreads your legs apart to make more room for himself between them. He tugs your panties away with haste, and there is no shyness to be had when he separates to look at the way you glisten under the moonlight for him. 

He takes a moment to stare, licks his lips before looking back up to meet your eyes. You hold his gaze as he frees his cock from his trousers, swallowing as you look down for just a moment, and then back up to him. You are both eager, it is clear– and he will have neither of you wait any longer; you have both waited long enough. 

“I will have you,” Hyunjin repeats as he grabs your hips, lifting your bottom up from the stone bench and aligning you with himself. His thighs support you, while his feet stay firmly planted on the grass and stone below. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he removes one of his hands from your hips, using it to find leverage on the stone as he leans over you. 

You can feel his cock pulsing against you, excitement and anticipation building exponentially in your gut. “Mine again,” he whispers as he captures your lips in another kiss, “You are mine, my love.” 

He presses inside you as slowly as he can manage to, and you gasp, hands reaching out to cling to his arms. Thick and full, you let out a shuddering moan when his cock is sheathed fully inside your wet heat. He moans with you, the centuries of building need finally melting into the pure bliss he’d been longing for. 

But he refuses to rush– his thrusts are slow and fluid, precise and calculated, searching for the spot he knows will bring you utmost euphoria. You let out a high-pitched moan, followed by a curse, when he succeeds; and he smiles before he grits his teeth, determined to bring you to the heights of pleasure.

“Hyunjin, oh, please–” you whimper, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves as he picks up his pace. He wanted to drag it out longer, truly, he did; but the mind is a powerful thing, and even whilst in a dream, the pleasure that you both feel is entirely real. 

And how much longer can one who has held centuries of lust and yearning hold back? Especially when the object of his every desire is moaning and begging for him so sweetly?

He could never resist you– not then, and especially not now. And long has he craved to hear his name spill from your lips like this again; so much so that the sound of it sends him into a frenzy. 

“Again,” he utters, equal parts desperate plea and urgent demand, “call to me, say my name.” You oblige easily, his name falling from your lips in a tantalizing mantra; and you feel his cock throb violently with each salacious whimper, his every thrust laced with desire and urgency.

He releases his grip on your hip, moving his hand to your center and pressing his thumb on your clit. Your breath catches, eyes rolling back as he rubs your clit in steady, practiced circles.

“Cum for me, my love,” Hyunjin urges; he is on the precipice of release himself, and he needs you to fall apart with him– it is the only way he can truly be satisfied. Your thighs tremble, whimpers broken by harsh breaths; and you let go of his arms, reach up to his face and pull him down into a desperate, needy kiss. 

He moans, and if his flesh were mortal, he is sure that goosebumps would’ve risen over every inch of his body. His thrusts lose their fluidity, becoming quick and choppy as he chases the high your body promises him. You clench tighter, toes curling and body quivering as you finally cum, your every moan of pleasure captured by his lips. 

His hips still as his own high takes him, his cock fully pressed inside, his cum spurting in long, sticky spurts. Your kisses are breathless, impassioned, but no longer urgent– they are soft promises of love, of eternity together in bliss.

You smile at him when he pulls away, and he looks at you just as tenderly as he had before, stroking your cheek and indulging in the heat it offers his thumb. You’ve never felt so relaxed, happy and at peace– but just then, you feel a sudden jolt.

It is a sign that your consciousness is returning to reality, and you will soon find yourself back in your bed, with the morning light shining on you from your balcony. Hyunjin, an invader in your mind, feels himself being pushed out– for he can not stay by your side beyond the bounds of your dream just yet. 

There is fear and uncertainty that peaks within you as you fight to stay asleep just a moment longer– but he is quick to calm you, kissing you one last time before you the sun’s rays shine down on you.

“I will find you again in the waking world, my heart,” he says, squeezing your hand in his before he starts to fade once more into shadow, “this, I promise.”

You rise with a start, blinking rapidly and lingering, unshed tears falling from your eyes as you raise your hand to your heart. Just as expected, it is morning now– the late spring sun is bright and warm, and birds chirp in delight as they welcome the dawn of a new day.

You frown, feeling the erratic thumb of your heart beneath your fingertips as the melancholy claws its way back around you, reminding you that it has not left. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, you realize a short moment later, and for the first time, you blush.

And then you giggle– and the melancholy, though ever present, now has a weaker grasp. You wonder, as you rise from the bed and prepare for your day, how long it will take for Hyunjin to find you. Days, weeks, months? 

You hope it is soon– but if it is not, you know what you will do. Every night, when you blow out the candles and fall asleep, you will call to him. You’ll invite him back into your mind, greet him with a soft kiss, and revel in his tender touch.

You will make love, you will smile, and you will talk of the future with greater enthusiasm than you have ever known– for he is your destiny, your truest love, your one and only immortal Vampyr. Ever-eternally.