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[orphicmeliora]

Imagine request please. Sylus is frustrated that someone he's fond of always looks away from him. But one day, she turns away and is facing a window/mirror; he catches her reflection and discovers she only does that because she's trying to hide her blush from them. What happens next?

sylus imagine with blushing reader

Sylus paced the room, his frustration barely concealed behind a mask of indifference. You sat across from him, nervously fidgeting with your hands. It wasn’t the first time he noticed this—the way you always avoided looking directly at him. It grated on him more than it should, a sting of rejection he couldn't shake.

Why did you always look away?

“Sweetie” Sylus’s voice cut through the tension, low and commanding. “Why do you always turn away from me?”

You stiffened at the question, the heat rising to your face. You kept your eyes on the window, the glass reflecting both the stormy cityscape outside and the quiet intensity of Sylus’s gaze. His question hung in the air, demanding an answer but your heart raced too fast for you to respond.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.” Sylus’s tone had that teasing edge he always used to rattle you. He approached slowly, a predator in control of the space, the moment. “You do this every time. I talk, and you look away. Tell me…” He paused, leaning against the table behind you, his voice dipping lower, “Why do you act like you’re afraid of me?”

Your breath hitched but before you could muster a reply, Sylus’s eyes flicked to the glass of the window where your reflection was faintly visible. And there it was—your blush, unmistakable, painting your cheeks a soft pink. His eyes narrowed slightly, a slow realization dawning.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Well, well…” he muttered, pushing off the table and moving closer until he stood directly behind you. “You’re not afraid at all, are you, kitten?” His hand gently slid to your waist, fingers brushing your side. You stiffened at his touch, feeling the heat rise to your face even more. “You’re just trying to hide that blush from me.”

You froze, caught in the moment, the warmth of his body so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. Sylus’s lips hovered near your ear, his voice a soft tease. “Isn’t that right?”

You tried to stammer out a denial, but words failed you. Sylus, however, wasn’t going to let you off that easily. He turned you around, forcing you to face him.

“Let me see that cute little blush you’ve been hiding,” he whispered, his tone both mocking and playful. He tilted your chin up so you couldn’t escape his gaze. “You thought I wouldn’t notice? You’re adorable.”

Your eyes met his for just a moment before you instinctively tried to turn away again, but this time he wasn’t having it. He caught your chin between his fingers, holding your face firmly in place, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“There it is” he said, his tone softening ever so slightly as he took in your flustered expression. “You look so sweet when you’re embarrassed. Did you think you could hide that from me forever?”

Your heart pounded in your chest and the intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe. You wanted to look away again but Sylus wasn’t letting go. His thumb brushed over your lower lip and the touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’ve been trying to avoid me, huh?” he murmured, his voice lowering to that dangerously soft tone he used when he was completely in control. “But now I know. You’re not scared—you’re just flustered. How cute.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as your face grew even warmer. Sylus leaned in closer, his lips just a breath away from yours, his hand still resting on your waist. The teasing glint in his eyes only deepened.

“You’re adorable when you blush like this, sweetie” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “But don’t hide from me. I like seeing you flustered.”

His fingers traced a line down your neck, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The touch was almost gentle, but there was an underlying intensity to it that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Maybe I’ll have to tease you more often if this is the reaction I get,” he continued, his smirk widening as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “You look so pretty when you’re like this.”

You couldn’t form a coherent response, not with the way he was looking at you, the heat in his eyes and the teasing lilt in his voice making your mind go blank. Sylus seemed to sense this, and his amusement only grew. He leaned in even closer, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Tell me, kitten” he whispered, his voice like velvet, “why hide from me when you look so cute being all flustered?”

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a brief but heated kiss. It was soft at first, teasing, like he was savoring the moment of catching you off guard. But then, the kiss deepened, his hand tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips demanding and firm against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, your heart racing, your cheeks burning even brighter than before. Sylus chuckled, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he whispered, “There it is again. That blush. You can’t hide from me, sweetie.”

His thumb gently brushed your cheek, the touch almost tender, though the playful smirk never left his face. “You’re mine” he murmured, his voice soft but possessive. “And I’m not going to let you forget that.”

Still flustered and speechless, you could only look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Sylus gave you a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with how thoroughly he’d unraveled you.

“I think I’ll keep you blushing like this,” he teased, his voice low and promising as he pulled you closer again. “I like the way you look when you’re all flustered for me.”

[orphicmeliora]

suguru kisses your temple as he places your coffee in front of you, softly laughing at your still half-asleep expression before taking his seat right across from you. messy strands of hair cascade down over his shoulders and he tucks a few stray ones behind his ear, so his view is as clear as day – suguru needs to be able to see the way your eyebrows furrow as you yawn or he'll die. he needs to be able to see that sliver of skin that peeks from under your shirt, his shirt, as you stretch and rub your eyes or he'll die. he needs to be able to see the way your eyes widen just a tad at the first taste of the coffee, of the affection suguru offers you through a simple drink. it's him, it's all him.

he's everywhere – he's on your tongue as you swallow, he's in your nose as you inhale. he's on your skin as you get dressed every morning, he's in your head when you wake up. your shoes are clean and you know it's him, your laundry is done and you know it's him. there's a cup of coffee waiting for you and you know it's him. a pair of soft hands, a brush of lips against the shell of your ear and it's always him. he's everywhere you look, guarding and protecting, loving, and all he needs in return is the little sweet 'aahh' that tumbles from your lips just as you meet his eyes across the table.

you see the grin tugging on his lips before he hides it behind his own mug, the very same one you gifted him last christmas. his hands cup the ceramic with utmost care; he likes the warmth of it – of the coffee and of the adoration stored inside it.

under the table, your knees knock together.

under your ribs, your hearts stutter.

you're laughing and he's in love.

[orphicmeliora]

BACK 🤺 BACK I SAY

oh.... oh so u don't wanna hear ab how suguru looks at you when you say it? the sparkle when he imagines how you wriggle and writhe when you touch yourself? how you jump away when you're under someone else? oh my lord referencing this post <3 w/c: 1.1k tw: f!reader not proofread, alcohol consumption, masturbation, fantasising, edging/ruining orgasms, i think that's all lmao

“oh, god! oh! t-there, right there!” you cringe behind your glass of wine, sucking down the liquid quickly before you choke on it, the typical over the top performance out of the actress in the romance; her back arching into a perfect semi circle, the montage of angles of skin against skin, of lips locked together, of lovesick smiles, of parted lips, heaving chests. the scene was cinematic, there was really no other way to describe it, framed in a way entirely opposite to real life, at least in your experience.

then, the crescendo of her performance; the curled toes, smudged red lips in a perfect ‘o’, the hand reaching between her thighs, the mantra of her lovers name, her hands pushing low on his abdomen, just out of frame, and of course, a long drawn out, high moan.

you’re too many glasses in to try and hide your expression, your eyebrows and lips contorting into a displeased face, drawing down as you turned away from the screen, reaching toward the table between you all to pour another glass.

“what’s that face for?” satoru snorts, tipping his glass towards you while you still have a hold on the bottle, the last of the liquid topping him off.

“what face?” you attempt to keep your tone even, your expression as blank as you can, your friends blue eyes twinkling as he sipped on the glass again, his vision a little blurred staring at you from across the room, as was yours.

maybe that was why you quirked an eyebrow at him, why your lips felt a little looser than they normally do with him and suguru.

“i’m not making any face.” it’s suguru’s turn to snort, raising his glass to his lips when you direct your gaze towards him, a small scowl on your lips.

“it’s just all so… over the top.” there’s more confidence behind your voice than you anticipate, “surely no one’s ever cum like that.”

you glance back and forth between the men, searching for some kind of answer that you weren’t the only one thinking that the acting was cinematic, but unrealistic, no one grips the sheets until they tear in real life… do they?

“are you asking?” suguru speaks up, his gaze trained steadily on you, a lot steadier than satoru’s blurred vision. you think he’s grinning at you behind his glass, or maybe his face is just warping against it.

“or just admitting no one’s made you squirt.” satoru gestures towards the ever changing screen with his glass, the wine nearly spilling from the rim as he does so; the lovers now in a new position, the frame cutting off just above the love interests cock, still showing how he thrusts in and out of the woman beneath him, one hand on her hip, the other between her thighs as his hips rhythmically slam into hers, her face scrunching up once more, with more dramatics of god, you’re so big, i’m gonna cum, i think i’m gonna–i’m gonna squir–fuck! it’s your turn to snort, more impressed with the actress than satoru’s statement.

“i’ve never cum, let alone squirt.” you laugh at the statement, thinking nothing of it when the sentence leaves your lips, taking another sip of the sweet wine as the pair stared with wide eyes.

“you’ve never cum?!” satoru is the first one to break the silence, well, as silent as it could get with the borderline softcore porn playing on the screen. your gaze flitters back over sluggishly to the white-haired man, your eyebrows drawn down in a confused expression at him.

“huh?”

“you just said you’ve never cum.” your eyes then shift to suguru, his sharp eyes boring into your own fuzzy ones. had you really just said that? in front of them? were you this tipsy already?

“i mean, i don’t think so.” why were you still talking. stop talking.

“you’d know.” satoru interrupts, like he and suguru were interrogators, both of them inching closer to uncovering the final clue to break open the case with how they stared so curiously at you.

“you’ve seriously never cum?” you shake your head once more, your cheeks warming doubly from the alcohol and the embarrassment when you stand up, walking on shaky legs back into the kitchen. you’re still avoiding both their curious gazes when you pop a second bottle, pouring another glass of the new one (about twice as much as you poured in the earlier glasses).

“i think i’ve gotten close?” you don’t know why you’re still talking, but it’s as if your tongue moves of its own accord, “i mean, i’ve felt good, i just don’t get like that.”

you gesture again to the scene, the sex winding down, both actors covered in a slight sheen of sweat after the twenty minute ordeal, hair plastering down on their skin.

“you know, it starts, it’s good,” you stare down into the glass, faking hypnosis by the swirl of the wine in the centre, “and it’ll like, build, and then i stop.”

you shrug again, as if unsure about what you’re describing to your friends, the feeling when you’re touching yourself; the sensation of ghosting over your tits, sliding over your skin, your abdomen into your panties. when you finally sink into yourself, how your cunt twitches around your fingers, how it aches when you fuck yourself, the dull ache growing and growing and growing until you pull away, letting the feeling shatter and ebb away, always leaving you tingling, fuzzy but never entirely fulfilled.

“you stop yourself?” you think it’s suguru questioning you, a light, teasing lilt in his voice like he’s almost happy you’ve never orgasmed, even more so you did it yourself, “you ruin your orgasms?”

now you’re looking at him, you know he’s smiling at the thought, the fantasy flashing in front of his eyes of furrowed eyebrows, frustrated tears welling in your eyes when you ruin it again, when you pull your fingers from yourself too early, or your vibrator slips from your fingers leaving your cunt numb and your clit aching painfully. but god, the vision of your nails wrapping around your partners wrist, tugging their hand from your pussy, or your hands pressing low into their abdomen, mumbling about it being too much, fuck, it feels too good.he thanks every god above you and satoru are lightweights, even as you sit back down in front of the screen, oblivious to the tent growing in his pants and a determination boiling in his blood to be the one to get you squirting on his cock the very first time he makes you cum, the first time anyone makes you cum.

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[orphicmeliora]

politely asking you to take maybe the cutest quiz ever and tell me what veggie you are ✨ here’s me

very accurate if i do say so myself

[orphicmeliora]

As an apology for my last post I wanted to put this idea out there as a potential plot line for hyareth.

We all know Lady Danbury and Lord Ledger's relationship ended shortly. Choosing their duty over love. Lord Ledger choosing his duty to Violet and Lady Danbury focusing on securing all the newly titled families.

What if Violet and Marcus Anderson also have a short-lived love affair. Sorry, Mama B.

Lady Danbury comes to see it as a curse that a relationship between her family and Lord Ledger's can't last. Always ending on bittersweet notes, or they choose something else over that blossoming love.

Then along comes hyareth, and Lady Danbury thinks it's the third generation of short-lived love. But Hyacinth and Gareth's love isn't short-lived. When it comes down to the choice, they choose love and each other. They are the relationship that breaks that cycle.

[orphicmeliora]

I want everyone to know that this is me every time someone drops a comment on something I've written:

[orphicmeliora]

vampire!Baekhyun x Reader: sweet bloody talk. [+18]

Word count: 7 479

Date of release: 5th November 2023

Warnings: s*xual content, mentions of blood.

Author's notes: @synthetickitsune I swear I had the entire draft ready before you posted yours, but I feel like we have one shared brain cell for some things LOL

The first thing you took note of upon entering the club was that the music was better than you expected from the mediocre and obscure premise. This type of music was not something you usually heard in dancing places – it was more on the heavy side, and it gave off the vibe of 80’s goths and black platform heels adorned with spikes. Not your regular music choice, but you couldn’t say that you were disappointed.

It was supposed to be just a few hours of relax. You felt a bit distraught recently, with books and other home entertainments feeling like you’re starting to drown in a routine. You needed a variety, even though your friends group consisted mostly of people who didn’t care for parties, and you yourself had no idea as to what people are supposed to do at one. Even the club was something you found online and not through a recommendation. You were shamelessly aware that you chose it just because the menu appeared cheaper than in others, and they would let ladies in for free if they wore heels. A bit sexist in your opinion, but free entry was free entry after all.

The place wasn’t too crowded, but the spots by the bar were all busy, and with the customers gathered around – a lot of them for such an early hour – you quickly came to a conclusion that you’d rather sit down somewhere else and look around to see if there’s anything for you to do.

You hated dancing.

It’s not that it was impossible to sway from one side to the other on repeat. But you were awfully aware how lame it must have looked while done by someone who didn’t represent excess of physical appeal, and so, since it didn’t bring you any joy either, you avoided it at all costs. For the same reason, the dancing floor was definitely not an interesting place to look at. And besides, everyone was still too sober for their dancing skills to become entertaining.

The spot you found, a bar chair by a tall, round table with the top made of glass, was a good lookout point. A row of tables like such was on a not so tall podium along the wall, so the heads of the people were a bit below and you could see the entire ground floor of the club very well. Guests were still coming in.

There was a part of the club, though, that, although in the range of your sight, didn’t appear reachable at all – the upper floor. A balcony with glass balustrade shined above the heads of all people gathered in the dancing floor. The VIP zone.

Your eyes, bored of looking down, traveled up automatically, trying to have a look at anyone there. You suspected that the VIP zone of such an average place was occupied by college students and corporates going at party nights. In fact, the only person that was looking out the balustrade at the moment, with his eyes fixated somewhere by the bar, was a tall and well-built boy who could as well be a basketball player, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. You snorted quietly, realizing that in any of the books you read, he would be a multimillionaire, spotting an average girl in the crowd below, falling in love at the first sight…

“Whatcha looking at?”

You jumped and almost fell off your chair at the voice that sounded out next to you.

Your eyes shot to the person who was currently sitting in the chair next to yours, watching you with a polite, non-intrusive smile. Although the fact you didn’t notice him join in freaked you out, he didn’t appear ill-intended. Yet, you didn’t miss a small smirk in the corner of his lip at the sudden reaction that you graced his question with.

“Oh… Nothing, really, just people” you answered, composing yourself. A small part of you wanted to carry on some sort of conversation just to not stay completely alienated for the rest of the night. But the remaining part of you had no idea, how. “How’s your evening?” you asked out of no better choice.

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and smiled widely, acknowledging that you’re not against the interaction.

“A bit boring, to be honest. I came here with some friends, but they all already busied themselves with stuff. What about you? Who did you come with?”

His voice was tender and careful, and his face looked very soft. You took a moment to acknowledge a simple baseball cap on his head, pulled on a bit too low so that he had to tilt his head backwards to see what’s on his eye level. He also wore a black, plain bomber jacket that made you think he’s a part of some college team – but there were no logos or other signs anywhere that would hint to his affiliation. In fact, you quickly came to the conclusion that it’s just his fashion choice.

“I actually came here alone” you blabbered without a second thought. “I’m not really a party person, to be honest…”

“Oh. I can tell.”

“Huh?”

Should you feel offended? Your face must have betrayed the uncertainty, because the man’s eyes widened and he visibly panicked at the social mistake.

“No, wait, sorry. It’s just that… if a stranger asks you about who you came with, even if you come alone, you should lie. It’s dangerous to let people know that.” he elaborated.

That actually made sense, you realized. Heck, you must have really had no self-preservation skills if you didn’t think of that before.

“Oh… I, um, thank you? For letting me know?” You scratched your head awkwardly.

He pressed his lips together – you took note of how his cheeks looked sort of cute and squishable when he did that – and smoothly hopped off the seat.

“I think it’s the time for me. Thank you for the talk.” He nodded his head politely and turned around, disappearing in the crowd before you could react appropriately.

You let out a defeated sigh. You came to this party to have a relaxing evening, but you must have messed up your possibly only chance to have a conversation with someone sober and not a creep. People were starting to slowly get drunk and you had a feeling that anytime soon, the only people coming up for a talk would be drunk college boys that the club was at this time of the year full of.

You glanced hopefully up at the glass balustrade of the VIP zone, but this time there was no one in sight.

It must have been around midnight when you looked at yourself in the club’s bathroom mirror, taking note of the tiredness heaving down your features. You were bored out of your mind, the music was echoing in your skull way too loud at this point, and the little alcohol you had in the meantime only made you a bit distraught rather than relaxed. Those were signs that it was definitely the time to go home.

You wrapped your trench coat around yourself as you left the building and went into the dark street. Cold wind hit your ankles, clad in nothing but a thin layer of stockings that you wore underneath the dress.

You stood nearby the main entrance, reaching out to your phone. You still contemplated whether to order a ride or to seek a cheaper alternative, seeing as the travel by feet must have not been too far from there, and maybe even you could even catch the night bus?

“Hi, are you alone?”

You whipped your head to where the voice was coming from, way too close for your liking.

A man was approaching you at a pace you weren’t sure if you should be comfortable with. His eyes were shining from the amount of alcohol consumed. He swayed to the sides ever so slightly as he walked.

It took you a solid moment to realize you’ve seen him once before – on the balustrade. He must have been on his way home as well.

“Um… I’m going home” you replied a bit shakily when he approached you. With how much taller than you he was, he didn’t have to try hard to hover above you in a hopefully unwittingly threatening posture.

“Will you be okay? I can get you a ride” he spoke sluggishly.

You couldn’t tell just how wary of him you should be; although he didn’t seem ingenuine and it was just the alcohol that made him appear creepy, you reminded yourself that it’s still a stranger. You glanced towards the club – the entry was a bit too far for your liking, but unless he became physical, you should be able to get back and ask for someone to help you out, was he to become too pushy.

“Please let me get you home” he suddenly spoke, sensing your unease. “I won’t bite you, I promise” he added. “I’ve already had enough for today, they don’t taste any good when I’m this drunk” he kept on blabbering and you lifted your eyebrow at the peculiarity of his statement.

“Chanyeol? What the hell are you doing here?”

The two of you turned around to look at the man coming from the club. The silhouette was too dark with the lights in the background, so you couldn’t make out his features well.

“Nothing” the man answered, shaking his head. “I just met this girl and she’s alone and I told her I won’t bite her but I think she’s scared of me” he whined.

Only when the newcomer came close enough, you realized that he also is not an unfamiliar face. The baseball cap betrayed him even before his squishy cheeks did. He spared you a glance and tilted his head to the side, apparently also acknowledging that you’re not a complete stranger. His eyes fell on his friend again.

“Aish, how would you get her home when you’re this drunk? Come and join the rest, we’ll be going home soon.”

“Then you take her home. She’s alone, Baekhyun, girls shouldn’t be alone. What if someone bites her when she’s alone?”

You frowned deeply, having no idea about what was all this weird conversation about. The man – Baekhyun – glanced at you once every few seconds, as though checking your reactions, and he was clearly displeased with the way things were going. He finally sighed.

“You talk too much, Yeol. Come on, let’s go.”

The man named Chanyeol huffed, but finally gave up and started moving back towards the entrance.

Baekhyun stayed behind, only making sure that his friend has gone in the right direction, and then looked at you with his face unreadable.

“Sorry for that. He didn’t mean anything bad, he just doesn’t control his tongue when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah… I could tell… Sorry.”

He lifted his eyebrow.

“Don’t say sorry when you haven’t done anything bad.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you sure it’s just parties that you’re not into? It looks like you don’t have much human interaction at all” he commented with a smirk. You laughed awkwardly.

“I usually handle it better, really. Not like, very good, but I swear I’m not an alien.”

He laughed warmly.

“Thank God, I was starting to consider giving you a ride too, but what if I had to get you back on another planet? Don’t have enough gas for that” he joked. It was quite lame of a joke, but you couldn’t help but utter a small laugh. After a bit of alcohol and at this hour, it was hard not to go alone with the lame sense of humor.

“Was it your way of offering a ride?” you dared to ask.

Baekhyun grinned.

“Maybe. Would you like?”

“I…” You bit on your lip, suddenly realizing that the offer had probably more to it than a mere act of kindness. “…don’t want to give you hope for something I can’t give” you stated carefully.

The man’s smile fell.

“Don’t ever worry about things like that. It’s not your problem if someone gets hope for something you never offered yourself. I just felt like giving you a ride, you don’t need to think of ways to return a favor or anything.” He appeared satisfied with his speech, and hid hands in the pockets of his jacket, soft and reassuring smile returning to his face.

You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a relief washing over you and a smile appearing on your own face as well.

“That’s… nice” you only answered. “In this case, I’d love to get home with you. I… I mean-” you realized your words were a bit ambiguous. “…You know what I mean.”

Baekhyun only laughed warmly.

“I know, I know. Come on, I parked nearby.” He pulled car keys out of his pocket and swung them in the air. “But, by the way, don’t just accept rides from strangers. It’s dangerous.”

Baekhyun’s car was more comfortable than the public transport you were used to, and also sitting in the front felt way nicer than the backseats of a taxi. The music was calmer and quieter than in the club, and although it also wasn’t the genre you were used to, it almost lulled you to sleep as the two of you sat in a pleasant silence for about half of the ride.

“Won’t your friends get worried that you didn’t come back to them?” you eventually spoke, trying to start a conversation. Your time together appeared to be limited, and you didn’t want to waste a chance to get to know the man better.

“I shot them a message” Baekhyun replied with his gaze fixated on the changing lights and the cars in the intersection. “I wasn’t drinking because I was supposed to be their ride but they also met some people at the party, so they’ll be fine” he elaborated.

“Ah, I see. Well. I’m lucky that you were supposed to be the ride anyway” you shrugged. Baekhyun smiled at that but didn’t continue the conversation.

You were still a few minutes away from your apartment and you really, really didn’t want the ride to end so quickly. Even silence in Baekhyun’s presence was just too comfortable. How was it possible that you felt so much ease with a man you barely met? Maybe it was because his comments regarding your safety seemed to be genuine, and you appreciated them. Maybe they were just his way of getting your trust, but you just didn’t seem to mind.

There were still other questions you could use to get him to talk to you.

“I just recalled, what were those things your friend was talking about? I know he was drunk, but he mentioned biting like two or three times. What’s up with that?”

Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed slightly. Slight tension in his jaw didn’t pass your attention either.

“Uh…” He shrugged after a moment of thought. “Consider it an inside joke in our group of friends.”

“An inside joke?” You genuinely laughed. “Maybe you’re the aliens? What if your car gets me on the Moon instead of home?”

The man laughed awkwardly.

“Well, we’re peculiar in our own ways. But I promise the car is earthly” he assured with a grin.

You knew the area pretty well and it didn’t take long before you arrived at your address, Baekhyun’s car coming to a stop almost opposite of the building entry. The man turned the engine off and got up, opening the door for you before you even prepared yourself to leave the vehicle. You got out hurriedly and quickly straightened your clothes.

“You good? You got everything?” he asked, glancing at the seat to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. You nodded.

“Thank you. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice was tender and calm, but you had a feeling that the unspoken question is there.

You cleared your throat.

“Um… Would you… like to come upstairs?”

“Hm?”

Because of what he said before, you were certain he did not want to make any assumptions or take things for granted. Yet, you didn’t want to leave him in the dark, and you were positive that for his honesty, he deserved some transparency from your side as well.

“Just…”

Yet, were you ready to offer more than you initially planned? What was there to lose, after all?

But how would you feel if he rejected you, or if you didn’t meet the expectations – that was so not like you to offer such a thing, and you never wanted to have short-term partners to begin with.

But Baekhyun clearly was a gentleman, and if he was to reject you, it would have to be out of care and not because you disappointed him. Or at least you desperately wanted to believe so.

And besides, why would he reject you if he went out of his way to give you a ride home? Even if he was mature enough not to expect anything, it’s not like he would offer it to someone who didn’t spike at least an ounce of his interest.

“[F/n]?”

You jumped at the sound of your name; you must have drowned in your thoughts instead of answering the question.

“Oh. Sorry. I um… It’s not a situation I’m usually in. But I just… don’t want this evening to end this fast.”

“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” He announced calmly, but there was some shade of threat in the way he said it, as if there was something urging him to give you the last chance to take it back and part your ways.

“I know. That’s why I don’t promise anything. But I want to try. You’re… fun to be around.”

At that, his face instantly lightened, and he chuckled softly.

“Thank you. You’re fun to be around, too.”

The night was chilly, and so you welcomed with gratitude the warmth that surrounded you the moment you entered your apartment. The place was rather decent as for one person inhabiting it, and you rented it at a rather cheap price from an elderly lady who at some age decided to move in with her family. Although you were allowed to refurnish it, you actually enjoyed the old style of creaking floor and black-and-white pictures on the walls covered in an old wallpaper. Even the old TV remained in its place, although it wasn’t catching the signal anymore. Baekhyun looked around curiously.

“You live here alone?” he asked.

“Yeah. But it’s not mine, I’m renting for another few years” you elaborated while taking off your coat and shoes, motioning for Baekhyun to do the same. “I’d like to buy my own but it’s still a while before I can even afford a mortgage.” The man nodded slowly in acknowledgment, following you cautiously as you soon entered the kitchen, turning on all the small lights on the way, making sure that the whole apartment was at least partially lit. “Bathroom is over there if you need” you briefly waved in the right doors’ direction. “You want something to eat?”

Baekhyun’s metaphorical ears perked up. He saw you point at the fridge.

“Oh. Maybe later, thank you.”

“Later?” you grinned. “Just how long are you planning to stay in here?” you teased.

“Hm.” He smiled shyly. “As long as you let me” he purred. You were focused on checking the cabinet’s contents for some quick snack when you heard him shift right behind you, hands hovering around your waist, although not touching just yet.

Your breath hitched. A pack of chocolate chip cookies slipped out of your grasp and fell on the counter below.

“Dammit” you mumbled, reaching to pick it up.

When you turned around, Baekhyun was sitting at your small table, elbow resting on the tabletop and chin on his hand in a fairly confident, although charming – in a way – pose.

“You want some?” You asked mindlessly, putting the cookies on the table and sitting on the second chair awkwardly.

“Later, thank you” he repeated; you internally cringed, realizing it made it seem that you didn’t listen to him earlier.

“Want something to drink then? I imagine you must be at least a bit tired after the party” you offered, feeling a bit awkward about eating the cookies all alone and not providing him with any sort of entertainment in the meantime.

“Don’t worry. It’s nice to just rest in the quiet after all that loud music” Baekhyun said with a gentle smile.

“Is that really so? Or do you just avoid midnight snacking?” you teased, trying to at least carry on with a small-talk.

You caught him stare straight in your eyes, and you felt a shiver run down your spine at his unreadable face.

“I actually believe that a good snack is a good snack regardless of the time” he announced in a tone that made you wonder.

He stood up right as you finished your cookie and came up to you. You observed him curiously as he knelt down, slowly finding himself between your parted knees.

His eyes never left yours, watching out for any signs of discomfort or disagreement.

You felt taken aback by his boldness, feeling your face heat up at the unusual closeness, but you definitely weren’t about to refuse.

His hands finally touched your knees, leaning on them for stability. Your dress was riding up a bit, but not enough to show anything yet.

“May I?” His lips hovered over the skin of your thigh where it was already exposed.

You almost caught yourself nodding mindlessly, but the loud pounding of your heart brought you back to reality.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“Kiss your leg” he specified with a small, warm laugh that both calmed you and embarrassed you even more at once. “May I?”

“Yes” you answered quickly before you could lose control over your voice again.

More serious again, Baekhyun leaned down and pressed a slow, chaste kiss into your heated skin. Then another, a bit higher, but still as if the edge of your dress was a border he wasn’t going to cross. His both hands massaged the outer sides of your knees.

“You’re so nervous” the man noted, at which your face got even redder.

“Well, uh…”

“Do I make you shy?” he teased. You stuttered incoherently in response.

Baekhyun let out a soft laughter, pushing himself up and extending his hand to help you up as well. You followed and fixed your dress in hurry.

“U-uh.”

You awkwardly wavered your hand towards the bedroom’s door, hoping the man gets the hint, knowing that your voice would betray you completely, were you to utter such a bold request.

But he didn’t even look in that direction, his hand reaching to your chin instead and he lifted your face up, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

“Oh. Thank you.”

At that, he laughed even louder.

“Thank you? Really?”

“What else was I supposed to answer…?” you huffed, not sure if he was trying to insult you with the mockery.

“No, no, don’t worry, it was actually quite a cute thing to say” he explained.

“Oh, well…”

His fingers gently brushed your lips, and all the thoughts left your mind as you let him maneuver your face towards his. Warm breath hit your nose as he looked down at you from up close, all small details of his face so sharp and clear, and his glistening eyes fixated on the way your face subtly changed in reaction to his doings.

He tilted his head to the side, smirk present on his soft-looking lips, and you felt as though at that exact moment, he had you right in his grasp – up to the heart of yours beating exactly as he conducted, you thought.

With another peck to your other cheek, he suddenly pulled away.

You swayed, feeling like you’re going to collapse the moment his fingers no longer kept your face in place. You were lightheaded. Baekhyun was proud of himself.

He stepped towards the corridor that led to your bedroom, and this time, it was you who followed.

He crossed the door, glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure you’re not lost on your way.

And right when you thought that at least this small part of your way will be peaceful and almost boring, this one, small thing came to your vision, turning everything upside down.

Right ahead of yourself, behind Baekhyun’s silhouette, on the wall. A mirror, adorned with an antique, golden frame, one you used every day to get ready, one that had been there ever since you remembered, and one that was the last thing in the world you’d expect to surprise you.

You looked closely; your eyes couldn’t be possibly playing tricks. It was just you with all the walls and furnishings that you knew.

But Baekhyun, standing there and glancing at you, did not reflect in that mirror.

You froze in place, staring in your own eyes of the reflection. The man’s smile fell, noting the sudden change of mood. Catching your gaze, he followed it, turning his back to you. His own eyes finally fell on the mirror and he gawked.

“Oh. Oh, wow.”

Without waiting for you to speak any of the thoughts currently hurling in your mind, he slowly walked over to the mirror as if just about as surprised as you were, but with genuine curiosity as well. His hand reached but stopped right before touching the smooth surface, and instead grazed the mirror’s frame, admiring the piece of fine furniture.

You stood in your place, still uncertain how to react. But he did not seem as confused, you realized – as if, although not expecting the phenomenon, he knew exactly what it was caused by.

“Fascinating…” he finally spoke in a soft voice. “Really, I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen one like this” he talked with childlike thrill. “It’s old, isn’t it?” He looked back at you, but his smile fell once again, noting you were nowhere close to sharing his excitement.

He let go of the mirror’s frame and took a step towards you, face tense and determined.

Something in you screamed, some sort of self-preservation instinct reminded you of its presence, calling out to you: this is a threat! This isn’t normal! It’s a sign, run!

Can’t move.

You stood there, completely stunned, as Baekhyun finally closed the proximity, finding himself right in front of you.

Was it some sort of manipulation, or was it just you – that the fear in your guts somehow mixed with arousal?

“What… is that?” you dared to ask in a tone as tough as you could make it.

He stepped that one step too close, making you stumble backwards. One step more, one more, and he had you leaning against the wall by the bedroom’s door, somewhat cornered, yet with enough room to flee if you so wished.

“If…” Hearing his voice this close made you flinch slightly, and he turned his tone down a bit. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The last words made the heart thump in your chest.

“But… you could.”

“I could.”

“Were you going to?”

He didn’t reply for a moment, breathing in deeply.

“Not… much.”

You stared at him, still uncertain and confused.

“Who are you?”

He stepped back again. Your eyes moved between his silhouette and the mirror behind when he stood right next to it, giving you the best picture of his non-reflecting self.

“I’ll give you a fun fact instead” he announced, lips curling into a grin again. “Your mirror is very old. I actually don’t remember the last time I’ve had this happen to me. Because mirrors nowadays don’t do that. Do you know why?”

You had no clue what he was going at – you shook your head.

“Because mirrors nowadays are usually made of glass and aluminum. Or stuff like that, I’m not so sure, really” he shrugged, unbothered. You still weren’t able to finish the thought off, a small piece still lacking for you to understand it. Baekhyun sensed that, and he patiently continued – speaking the last few words to put all of the puzzle together for you. “What they used to be made of in the past?”

You gawked at him.

“…” The breath got caught in your throat. “Silver. They… They used to be made of silver.”

“Voila.” Baekhyun spread his arms, as if presenting himself to you. “And before you try to think of all the possible creatures that have silver allergy written into their lore, just know I’m not the only one you had a chance to meet tonight.”

You recalled the stranger you met at the bar, Baekhyun’s friend whose words had spiked your curiosity the moment they echoed in the dark street.

I won’t bite you, I promise.

What if someone bites her when she’s alone?”

His eyes sparkled as he watched all the small bits come together in your head. Slow enlightenment displayed within your facial expressions with hundreds of subtle emotions, and piece by piece, the deduction snowballed, becoming more and more apparent, bared for him to drink the sadistic satisfaction from.

That was when you recalled his own words.

A good snack is a good snack regardless of the time.

“You… were going to bite me?” you finally uttered, voice breaking with every syllable.

He let his arms fall to his sides, smile softening, head tilted slightly backwards – your eyes spotted his fangs, sharper and whiter than human teeth, exposed by him for you to admire.

“If you tell me to leave now, I’ll leave” he repeated, but his tone made it clear that he already knew you weren’t going to do that.

In fact, even you knew from a while ago that your curiosity was too strong to let him off the hook – you felt like you caught a sort of urban legend, and you’d hate yourself for letting him flee without getting a hold of all his secrets.

Ultimately, though, it was the sensation of getting preyed on by him that – you realized – lit a fire inside of your body, and made your insides burn with want.

“Stay, please” you uttered in a small voice, as if too shy to request something this impure. “I want to know… more” you whispered, convincing yourself to look back at him. Your eyes fell on his fangs again, so unnaturally sharp despite not appearing that much longer than in a human. You recalled when he kissed your thigh earlier, and shivered, realizing how close it was, how easily he could have…

“You’re thinking too much” he suddenly interrupted, noting that you were so endorsed in the chaotic train of thoughts that you were just hyping yourself into anxiety at this point.

He lifted his hand towards your face, slowly and carefully, as if to test the waters. You weren’t sure if you should let him. Maybe, in some twisted way, it would be easier if he didn’t ask – if he just grabbed you and forcefully bit into your neck, so you could experience that mysterious sensation of falling a prey to possibly the only creature on the earth that could realistically impose threat to the mankind. You felt a nervous, but exciting sensation in your gut.

You didn’t even manage to react before his fingers gently brushed your cheek. You were already a goner, leaning into his hand on instinct. The fear became thrill instead.

“Here you go, good girl” he whispered with content.

Not waiting any further, he leaned down and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You let out a small whimper when his lips touched your heated up skin. You felt his fangs graze the sensitive surface, but no pain followed, only the sweet feeling of a chaste, open-mouthed kiss.

“Oh…”

He kissed slowly down your cleavage, hands running down your silhouette along with his lips. He breathed into the space where the hem of your dress ended, not daring to go further. You were still stunned, still too shaken to invite him in, but you didn’t oppose even one bit when he put his hands below your thighs and lifted you up, your arms automatically anchoring around his neck.

He was so gentle with you when he carried you over to your bed and placed you down on your back with utmost care. The bed sheets were cold below your body, your dress doing close to nothing to soothe the sudden sensation. But Baekhyun’s – against what you would think – was impossibly warm against yours when he hovered above you for a few moments, your legs wrapped around his waist just a bit longer. He placed another kiss on your cheek.

“May I?” you whispered.

“Hm?”

“Kiss your lips.” You cupped his face with your hands. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

It seemed like he did it on purpose, not leaning in to make it any easier for you, and you had to strain yourself to reach him. Your lips touched, the sensation – absolutely breathtaking. His fingers gently wrapped around your neck, pushing you down into the mattress, but following the motion with his own mouth, deepening the kiss with a sense of roughness, overpowering you in a way. He nibbled at your lower lip, letting you feel the sharp edge of his fangs.

“Will you bite me?

“I think I will.”

“Why haven’t you yet?”

He broke the kiss and smirked down at you.

“Are you impatient?”

“Do you want me to beg for it?” you uttered, trying to sound irritated, although at heart knowing that you were close to doing so anyway. You were, in fact, impatient.

“Maybe later. Will you?”

“I…”

He didn’t let you finish, his grip on your thighs suddenly strengthening and you yelped, feeling his nails dig hard into your flesh. Your breath instantly quickened, sensation quickly becoming unbearable.

Taking all the time in the world, he finally released the hold, stroking your abused skin in comfort instead.

“Easy, love. See?  It’s just my fingers. You wouldn’t take my fangs just yet.”

He knelt back between your legs. Your dress’ lower hem was almost at your underwear from being carried by him earlier, and Baekhyun’s hands traced up your bare thighs, once again taking note of any sign of discomfort or displeasure.

You felt nervous, more than ever. Not only because you weren’t used to such casual endeavors. Something in you felt stressed about disappointing such a superior creature, still feeling like it’s a one-in-the-lifetime chance that you got.

Baekhyun seemed to sense your worry perfectly, and he leaned down to ground you with a kiss to your knee.

“You’re beautiful” he spoke with no ounce of hesitation or doubt. “And you smell delicious” he added. Such a peculiar thing to hear, you thought, yet your face heated up, as if the second compliment was much more meaningful than the first. “May I… taste you down here?” His hand slid down your inner thigh, stopping at your dress.

You opened your mouth, but, quickly realizing your voice won’t align with your intentions, you instead nodded – a bit too eagerly, involuntarily holding your breath.

He took all the time in the world, allowing you to get accustomed to his touch as he slowly lifted your dress, finally displaying your underwear, at which you let out a small, shy whimper. He pushed the fabric even higher, and you took the hint to sit up and take it off fully, now left in nothing but a black lingerie – a set you almost only wore to parties when you wanted to feel especially well put-together, and now you silently thanked yourself for this habit.

He now moved up and kissed the skin between your breasts, smoothly tracing his lips down to your stomach and stopping briefly above the hem of your panties, fingers hooking around the edge. With one last glance at your burning up face, Baekhyun slowly pulled your underwear down, taking his sweet time and enjoying the way you only squirmed quietly, held right at the edge of sanity with such a simple interaction.

“Breathe” he reminded you, discarding the fabric to the side, his own exhale hitting your private parts, now exposed for him to see.

He placed yet another comforting kiss on your mound.

“You’re okay, you’re safe” he whispered.

Although his words comforted you, he didn’t wait for you to calm down; quite the opposite, in fact, when he finally put his mouth around your pearl, overwhelming you with just the proximity. His eyes were fixated on yours in a predator-like way, drinking in your reactions and gaining sadistic pleasure from the way you could no longer control your body.

The room filled with wet noises that mixed with your own voice. Your moans slowly became more and more obscene as Baekhyun’s mouth worked shamelessly around your private parts with care, yet ease, as if he knew all bits of your body and didn’t even need to think twice, getting all the sensations, all the pressure, all the pace – perfectly right, pulling you further and further into the immense pleasure.

You were ready to relax and fall deep into the sensations, when he suddenly dug his nails into your thighs again, forcing you awake.

You yelped and tried to squirm away, but his hold only strengthened. Your breath hitched when you took the cue to stay still until the grasp once again dissipated.

“Don’t you feel too good?” he mocked. You glanced back at him – his eyes were shining red, face darker than just moments ago, threatening.

“B-Baekhyun…”

Should you feel scared at that moment? Should you understand that this man was a monster? Maybe. But it felt just too good to be in his hands, to be toyed with and hurt so sweetly. It was like a reward to know that out of all people, he chose you as his prey. There was some primal pleasure in being this little, naive girl that fell right into his trap, that allowed him to sweet-talk her into giving up her will of survival.

In a surge of confidence, you put your hand on top of his head, pushing him to resume what he was doing so well just moments ago. Baekhyun didn’t object, only letting out an amused huff when his lips wrapped around your clit once again, sucking on it gently and letting you once again melt in the sweet sensation. Your fingers clutched his hair, letting you release some of the tension, and when he hummed into your skin, you held it so tightly you for a second worried about causing him pain.

But he didn’t say a word and you quickly realized, it must have not bothered him in the slightest. His eyes slipped closed, now fully fixated on devouring you, hands holding your hips down to prevent you from squirming, hold just a bit too strong, just to cause you the slightest amount of pain, just to remind you what he was capable of.

Your whole body trembled, approaching the sweet release. Baekhyun’s mouth was relentless, and he read your reactions perfectly, his pace and movements perfectly designed to drive you insane.

With your thighs pressing together, you clutched his hair even harder. You were starting to convulse, letting out incoherent whimpers. Baekhyun’s fingers, dug into your thighs so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if they drew blood, no longer hurt – it was all mixing together, the proximity of his existence alone already overwhelming your senses, but the passion, the warmth, the textures, the sounds – it all sucked you in further and further, riding you off any remains of sanity that you may have had left.

Suddenly, right as you were about to reach the peak, everything stopped for less than a second; a void so sudden you didn’t even manage to register it.

And then, like a thunder through your body, Baekhyun’s fangs pierced the soft skin around your clit. He sucked hard on both your blood and your pearl, and you instantly came undone, crying out in pleasure and agony.

Your vision went white for what felt like ages and you felt like you were floating in the outer space; for those heavenly moments, you were not even sure if you’re still alive, but your thoughts mingled and dissipated too fast to formulate a coherent sentence. Whether Baekhyun was still there or not, you would not be able to tell; your mind was blank, and he could as well have left you moments ago – except the pain that was slowly starting to materialize again was an excellent proof that he was still present, and when your body finally came down from its high, you managed to register him down there, still between your thighs, with his arms wrapped around them in an almost loving-like manner.

You had absolutely no idea when did he bit into your thigh instead, letting your most fragile bits calm down from the overstimulation, but it looked like he was so endorsed in tasting your sweet blood that it took you a few long moments before he finally acknowledged you’re watching him. Your lower body was limp, small shivers running here and there, but any pain no longer present, your flesh too worn out to take note of it.

Sensing your gaze, Baekhyun slowly pulled his fangs out of your skin, carefully as to not damage it further, and then sent you a smug, bloody smile, hand caressing your hip.

“Welcome back” he spoke. “Took you a while.”

You tried to push yourself into the sitting position, but even your arms wouldn’t listen, and you fell back down in exhaustion.

Maybe it was merciful of him to climb up and hover above you, letting you look at his full figure even when you could no longer move to watch him yourself. A drop of your blood slipped from the corner of his lip, landing on your own. You curiously reached to it with your tongue, and Baekhyun didn’t wait a second, pressing his lips into your own, taking that sweet droplet back but giving you a taste of the metallic flavor in its full glory. A short, but rough nib to your lip made you let out a small, helpless whimper, tears emerging in the corners of your eyes – with the amount of overstimulation, even that much was already too much, and you were so worn out, so weak, so overdone.

“Just a bit more, love.”

His lips once again found themselves on your neck, kissing so tenderly that you barely felt it.

The prickling pain that followed no longer caused you to recoil; your body was growing weak, too weak to handle it anymore. You were getting drained beyond the stage of quick recovery, and you could tell, there was nothing you could do at this point to stop it.

Just a bit more, just a few more sips.

“You taste so good.”

Biting into the top of your breast now, closer to your heart. You didn’t feel it anymore, only phantom sensations somewhere far away.

You were at the brink of unconsciousness when he finally pulled away. A bit carelessly, he knelt up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, dark burgundy-shining eyes fixated on your fading ones.

Although you still had it in yourself to look back at him, the world around you was gradually collapsing, and it was only those burgundy eyes that kept you right above the surface, but so about to drown.

“My… I may have overdone it. Are you still there?”

He sounded marginally worried, as if coming across a small incident, and not a human life that was on the line.

You blinked and moved your fingers ever so slightly, just to let him know you’re still conscious, although barely.

The man smiled at that softly, clear relief washing over his face.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of that.”

He reached to your cheek, patting it gently. It felt a bit grotesque; his skin was so warm as opposed to yours, chill from the lack of blood and paler than ever.

But his touch felt nice, and, although you knew that the slumber you’d fall into would not be natural and the next hours would possibly decide your fate, it felt like you were falling into a dream instead; you were growing addicted to his presence, and you could do nothing to stop it. You were a goner.

“I’ll make sure of that, because I cannot possibly waste a fine snack like you. It’s just the beginning, love. Better recover fast.”

Ahh, I'm actually proud of this one, hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! Also don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts, and hopefully, more vampire content will be coming in the future!

[orphicmeliora]

Edit by: Elyvxrse

[orphicmeliora]

I love these photos sm 💗

[orphicmeliora]

legit I’m so fucking tired and I just want a warm chest to lay on, my hair played with, and forehead kisses so I can have a decent rest

[orphicmeliora]

[orphicmeliora]

single dad kita who is so used to licking his finger and swiping the grain of rice off of his daughter's chin that he does it to you one night when you have some on your lip.

you freeze. so does he.

his thumb is still pressed up against your lower lip. you can feel the work-rough pad of it; his spit is slick against your skin. there's heat rising to your cheeks, a supernova burn.

"kita—" you start to say, his name strung out, frazzled with panic.

his thumb slips between your parted lips. you press your tongue against it instinctively; you can taste the salt of him and a hint of the sake you'd been sharing.

kita stares at you, his eyes searching. they're the color of a sunrise, a sweet golden dawn. there's a promise in them.

you press your tongue against his thumb again.

he breathes in through his nose. it's calm. composed. it makes something in you itch.

slowly, carefully, you close your lips around his thumb.

his eyes go dark, the color of whisky. he lets out a soft breath; you only hear the shake because you were listening for it.

a door creaks open.

the both of you go still again.

"daddy?"

it's high and plaintive, an uneasy warble. a little hiccup follows.

kita pulls free of you in an instant. he wipes his thumb against his shirt; you watch as it dampens with your spit.

he's halfway to the hallway when he glances over his shoulder at you. his gaze keeps you in place, a butterfly pinned by its wings.

"stay," he says, simple and firm. "we're not done yet."

[orphicmeliora]

me and who‼️⁉️

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have you ever heard it? can you remember?

i. The gulls were crying. The gulls were always crying, in her memory. Whatever far off places Susan travelled after her family was gone, she always came back to the sea.

ii. The beach at Cair Paravel was the first place in Narnia where she really felt at home. She'd wade into the water with her eyes shut and feel she could be in England, on holiday with her mother and father. She'd open her eyes, and there would be waves cascading endlessly towards her.

iii. Before long, she knew every tidepool, every shoal.

iv. There weren't any bathing suits in Narnia, but no one seemed the least scandalized when Susan took to swimming in her underthings. There wasn't anything else for it, and she had to swim. She just had to.

v. She wasn't the only one of her siblings to love the sea, of course. Edmund loved sand and sailing and reading on the beach, and Peter liked to gaze out at the ocean and think. Lucy spent even more time at the beach than Susan did; she would rise before dawn and sit on the rocks as the sun rose over the waves. Susan was never sure whether her little sister was there to greet the sunrise, or to wait for Aslan.

vi. But for Susan, it was sense-memory. Water was water, wherever she was, and it always reminded her of home. She'd go out past the breakers, pull her limbs into a familiar breast stroke, and she'd feel like she was everywhere she loved all at once.

vii. Aslan came, and she was soaking wet to greet him. He laughed, in his lion-ish way, and didn't mind at all when Susan embraced him.

viii. Somehow, Aslan never got drenched from his journeys across the sea, but he was damp as though with mist. The scent of salt and brine clung to him, an overtone to that fierce, wild smell that was his own. Susan breathed in deep, those two scents she loved most in the world.

ix. In England, back at school, she'd go to the swimming pool and imagine she was in Narnia.

x. It wasn't the same, of course. The swimming pool at her school had no crying gulls, no smell of salt, no cascading waves. There was no Aslan coming towards her from the T-line at the other end of the pool. But if she submerged herself completely, Susan could imagine.

xi. She swam with her eyes shut too often, and her coach was growing irritated. It was affecting her times in practice, which would bleed over into competition if she wasn't careful. Somehow, Susan couldn't be bothered to care.

xii. One weekend, she and Lucy snuck away to visit the boys, and they all went down to the lake to reminisce about Narnia. When Lucy and Edmund spoke of their summer sailing the eastern sea, Susan was positively stiff with jealousy. Yet when they all dove into the water in the end, her heart pounded out a rhythm of home, home.

xiii. Six years after her last trip to Narnia, Susan hadn't touched a bow in four years. She still went swimming every week.

xiv. After the railway accident, she went to live by the sea. She missed her family, and she couldn't stand to live in the places they had lived. She wanted to forget.

xv. Susan had missed the salt air. She had missed the waves. There was a feeling of home by the sea that she couldn't quite place; a soothing echo of long ago dreams and fairytales.

xvi. But there were the gulls crying, "Can you remember?" and it broke her heart all over again.

[orphicmeliora]

Please make a story that zayne is very clingy, sweet , romantic

For Mc

Pretty please

Make it long

Please

Please

Need a food 🥺

Food is served!! (One of these days you guys are gonna see an 'only accepting requests for Rafayel now' post and it'll be Raf hijacking my computer because WHY WAS I CATCHING FEELINGS FOR ZAYNE WHILE WRITING THIS??)

Doctor's Orders

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: Zayne has suggested you skip work today, which isn't suspicious at all...

Genre: Fluff (with a *pinch* of angst)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, some kisses, some mentions of death (just a real mixed bag, you know?)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Do you really have to go?”

Zayne was a lot of things: caring, even doting, but never normally this… clingy.

You pretend not to hear the question, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back as you get ready to leave. You will answer it— you’re not ignoring him— but you have so much to do, and you’ve answered it three times already. Yes, Zayne. It’s work. You finish lacing your boots. And no, Zayne, I can’t get out of it.

And since when was he an advocate of skipping a shift, anyway? Like blood from a stone, he’d calmly pleaded with you to come up with some sort of excuse and you’d stared back, eyes wide, because you didn’t know stones could bleed.

An excuse? You’d repeated in disbelief.

Yes. You could… tell them you’re sick? I could write you a note.

You’d thought it a joke until he drew out a pen and started scrawling something on the nearest scrap of paper. He’d pushed it into your hands, his gaze earnest, as though he were trusting a co-conspirator. Here, he’d said matter-of-factly, you can give it to your captain tomorrow.

The writing was barely legible.

It’s still crinkling in your pocket now: your little ‘get-out-of-your-Sunday-shift-free’ card, courtesy of Doctor Zayne, and yes, you are going to hold onto it, but it’s not for Jenna. It’s for your apartment wall, where you’ll be mounting it in a golden frame, because absolutely no-one is going to believe you when you tell this story.

You collect your guns from a nearby drawer, checking the sights and the safety on each before holstering them at your sides. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get back,” you shrug.

A nice sentiment— not entirely true. “Or you could stay.” Zayne is looking at your weapons, not you.

He’s sat at the kitchen table, watching you over an untouched breakfast. Yours also sits around him: plates upon plates of every food you could imagine, warm and cold, savoury and sweet. You’d suffered a brief heart attack when you’d first laid eyes on it, presuming you’d forgotten some occasion or another.

There’s even a vase of fresh flowers, flourishing at the centre of it all.

It’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever seen, but you’re starting to think that’s the point. Like a hand on your heart, squeezing; it’s urging you to sit back down, to relax, to surrender and let him take care of you. Are you the worst person in the world? It feels like you are.

Ready to take on anything but more of his gaze, you return to the table, fully-armed, and pluck a strawberry from the edge of a plate. You pop it into your mouth, savouring its sweetness as you stroll behind Zayne’s chair. “Try not to worry,” you mumble, resting your hand on his shoulder while you lean in to kiss his cheek. “Ok?”

“Ok.”

You go to pull away, but his hand lands on your hand, anchoring you to him. His fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting, guiding your fingers in front of his mouth so he can press a few, brisk kisses to each. Your heart is in a vice again— tightening with every brush of his lips. You can’t take it. You can’t.

He knows, and he’s turning in the chair, slipping his free hand around your waist and tugging until you’re crushed up against him. “Stay. Please?” his voice entreats. You can barely hear it from where his face is nestled into you.

You have to remind yourself to breathe, and you sigh as your hands move to cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair. You want to enjoy this. Why can’t you enjoy this?

His breath is fanning against you and all you can think about is the fact that he’s making you late.

…

You’re marching to headquarters twice as quickly as usual, and you’ve crashed into three people already. Every time there’s been an impulse to scream “get out of the way!” but you’re wearing your uniform, so you have to apologise, smile sweetly, and pretend you’re not one incident away from turning in your badge and leaving them all to fend for themselves.

Someone steps out in front of you and you have to swerve to miss them, almost dropping your phone in the process. It had just started ringing, and the noise persists as you fumble with it.

“Hello?” you answer, putting it to one ear as you plug the other with a finger.

“Hi!” It’s Greyson, finally, and he’s surprisingly chipper for someone you know is just coming off of his graveyard shift. “I saw your texts. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah! Thanks for calling. It’s just…”  Everything’s too noisy for you to concentrate, and you’re still essentially running an obstacle course. You peel away from the crowd, ducking into the quiet of an alley. “I’m a little worried about Zayne. He’s been acting weird all weekend, ever since—”

“Friday?”

“Yeah.” That couldn’t mean anything good. Your brow furrows. “Did something happen?” 

A drawn-out sigh makes it through the phone, and you know Greyson well enough to know he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering just how much he should tell you. “We had a patient transferred to us on Friday,” he caves, “a young woman— a hunter, injured— she was… not in a good way. Recovery odds next to zero, but Zayne? You know Zayne. He had to try.”

You nod, even though Greyson can’t see it. There’s dread in the pit of your stomach; you can tell where this is going.

“She didn’t make it,” he states with the rehearsed evenness of someone who’s spoken the words too many times before. There’s another sigh, then he hastens to add: “Zayne was incredible, though— he did everything he could, really. He was her best chance, he just… wasn’t enough. You can’t save everyone, you know?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah, you know.”

And you do: you’re just as haunted by that truth and all of its ghosts. “Yeah,” you speak at last, seeing their faces. Your throat hurts. “Thanks, Greyson. Really.”

“That’s ok,” he yawns. “If Zayne asks, you didn’t hear it from me.”

“You think he’s gonna believe that?”

“No.” He’s smiling, now— you can tell. “But it’s worth a try! You take care of yourself, ok?”

“You too. Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

…

You’ve only been gone for half an hour, but Zayne is fast asleep. Though you’d practically burst through the front door, his head is still lowered— dipping over an open medical journal— and his dark hair has fallen over his eyes. You can’t help but smile. This wasn’t the nervous, pacing-the-apartment man you’d expected to find, but it eases the guilt in your chest for the first time all morning.

You sling your bag from your shoulder and set it gently down on the floor, all the while easing the door closed behind you. You unfasten your holsters. Shrug yourself free of all their straps. You don’t make a sound; you’re being very careful.

Slowly, you make your way over to where Zayne’s lying on the sofa. You lower yourself to his level, reaching to pry his book from his fingers. His glasses are next: you ease them from his face like you’re handling a volatile protocore. Your breath is baited. Your hands almost shake, but you’re an expert at this sort of extraction: you’ve done it a hundred times before.

With your mission accomplished, you allow yourself one small reward. You want to see his face— all of his face— so you card your fingers through his fallen hair, smoothing it back into place. He looks like a dream: the kind you’re glad to carry through daylight, long after you wake. The kind you write down for fear of forgetting a single detail.

You want this, this, this. Every morning. For the rest of your life.

And maybe even the next life. Is that possible?

(You hope it’s possible.)

Standing softly, you smile again— a smile between you and the universe, the gods, and the night sky, in all its infinity. There are things you cannot know and even more things you cannot have, but you are more than content with your consolation prize. This:

One minute of peace, for you and your doctor.

You have a funny feeling this is more than you were ever meant to have.

When your minute is through, you watch as Zayne’s face changes, and he is no longer at peace. He frowns, his whole body suddenly tense. There’s a murmur of… pain? It sounds like pain— he winces like it’s pain. He doesn’t tell you where he goes, but you wish you could hold his hand and make a breakfast big enough to keep him from going there.

“Zayne,” you whisper, resting a warm palm on his cheek. A little louder: “Zayne.”

He stirs in his sleep as your voice brings him back to reality. He’s yours— yours— and the inevitable can have him later. Sure enough, his eyes flutter open, lost for a moment, but then? Home. Safe. With you.

“Hey,” you grin.

He squints against the daylight. “Hmm? Oh. What are you doing back so soon?”

You scoff. “Some doctor you are! I’m at death’s door— can’t you tell?” Your hand leaves his cheek, indicating your not-pallid skin, not-flushed cheeks, and not-sunken eyes with a wave. Then you find his hand, pressing his fingers to your forehead.

There’s a second of hesitation. “Ah,” he says warily, “yes, you’re… burning up.”

“Right?!” 

Despite the severity of your condition, you find the strength to clamber on top of him. It’s anything but graceful, and he groans as you shift and fidget, taking your time getting comfortable. Eventually you settle, your head resting against his chest and his arms holding you close. You’re not tired, but you close your eyes, and this is so much better than patrolling for Wanderers.

He draws you higher so his chin can rest on the top of your head. “Greyson told you, didn’t he?” he ventures aloud, because he’s awake, now, so he’s connecting dots.

“Yeah,” you nod against him. “But if he asks, I said it was Yvonne, ok?”

There’s a hum of agreement, then he’s silent. Thinking again. “I’m sorry,” he finally speaks.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s sweet that you worry. You don’t need to—”

“No,” he stops you. “I care about you a lot, and I’ll never apologise for that. What I am sorry for, however, is that a romantic gesture from me is so unusual that you feel you have to call my colleagues. I know I’m not always outwardly affectionate, but—”

“No.” It’s your turn now, and you twist, angling yourself so you can look up into his eyes. “You always make me feel loved, Zayne. Everything you do, everything you say… it’s for me, and no-one has ever cared about me like that. No-one has ever showed me they care like that.”

“Then why—”

“Because you get it, Zayne— the importance of what I do, because it’s what you do, even if it’s different. We’re both saving the world a little, right?”

“Right.”

You draw out his doctor’s note and shimmy it in front of his eyes. “So what the hell is this?”

He admits guilt with a chuckle, his hand moving to catch the evidence, but you’re one step ahead, stashing it back into the sanctity of your pocket. He issues a short hmph, defeated.

“Come on,” you prompt, escaping his arms. “Let’s not let all that food go to waste. You kept it, yeah? I’ve been dreaming about those chocolate-chip pancakes since I left.”

Zayne had been helping you up, but he slumps back as you finish your sentence. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he confirms with the trademark nod of a doctor, and it can only mean one thing:

You’re about to receive some very, very bad news.

[orphicmeliora]

💫New Satisfaction Survey

From 5:00 AM on Aug. 23 to 4:59 AM on Aug. 31 (server time), hunters who complete Main Story [Under Deepspace] 6-14 will receive a satisfaction survey on the home screen. After completing the survey, you will receive [Empyrean Wish*1] in your in-game mailbox. Please let us know how you feel about the game! Your feedback is crucial in helping us improve.

Please consider suggesting the following points (if you agree):

Give us more opportunities to earn diamonds.

Increase weekly cap for chocolates earned.

Allow us to convert surplus ascension crystals.

Allow us to exchange duplicate plushies for 💎.

Implement VIP tier rewards for global too.

Let us workout/study/work with a music playlist.

Add EXP to memories used in battle after a win.

Let us get a notifications anytime a love interest updates their profile status ( history mood ).

[orphicmeliora]

Sweetie

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, slight smut (oral), comfort, depression mention, Sylus being a great bf, he's so baby girl, pet names

-------------------------------

“Sweetie, you should come to bed before you doze off…” you heard Sylus’ buttery rich voice envelop you as you were on the verge of sleep. 

You moaned in response, attempting to give him a real response but failing. 

Sylus used his evol to pick you up gently before settling you in his arms, he carried you the rest of the way to your bedroom before softly laying you down on the bed. He pulled away slightly to make his way to his own side but a whine left your lips. It made him freeze; somehow sounding more pained than a regular sleepy whine should.  Sylus moved back into your hold, he brushed some hair away from your face before scooting into bed with you. Once he was rested against the headboard you shuffled your tired body as close as you could to his. 

“What is it, my love?” he whispered as he held you close, his breath tickling your face. 

You moaned again, not wanting to wake fully to respond. 

“I’m going to need more than that.” he said with a breathy laugh. 

You sighed, realizing you weren’t going to get out of this conversation. You shifted, sitting up against his chest slightly. “I just… I wake up so tired. Everyday. And all I want to do is go back to sleep.” you said. You didn’t let your eyes meet his, mostly because you knew that he knew. He knew your depression was getting back into a low swing. 

Sylus tightened his arms around you, crushing you in a hug that you needed desperately. Your lip quivered and your eyes watered as you nuzzled into him. You felt his slender fingers tilt your chin up delicately. “Darling,” he started, a sob from you cutting him off. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok.” he said with the kindest smile. 

He didn’t look like the dangerous crime lord you know he is in this light. He looked like Sylus. Your Sylus. Who loved you and took care of you always. “I’m sorry…” you said between sniffles, wiping your cheeks off. 

“No, kitten, that’s not what I meant…” he said, holding your hand in his. “I know you’re not ok now… but you will be. I will personally see to it that you are ok. Better than ok. Whatever it is, I’ll be here for you no matter what. Why don’t we sleep in tomorrow? Then we can do whatever you want for the day?” he said with a tinge of hope in his voice.

 “What about the Onychinus?” you said, tracing his hands with your fingertips.

“The N109 Zone can wait. You’re more important.” he said with no room to question him.

You leaned up before he could finish his sentence and kissed him. You hesitated slightly, not completely sure why. He cupped your cheek, pulling you back to his lips which begged for more. Nothing sexual and hot, just passionate and full of love. When he finally slipped away from your lips they were puffy with want but your body begged for sleep. Sylus saw the droop in your eyes. He didn’t say anything as he held you close, tucking his silk sheets around you to keep you warm. He rubbed soft circles into your back, lulling you to sleep.

------------------------------------------

You woke up, eyes searching for Sylus. They found his large frame wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your chest. He looked so peaceful like this. His pale hair framing his face so elegantly you just watched him breath for a while, wanting to drag this perfect moment out.

“Hello sweetie.” Sylus said after a bit. 

His morning voice was even deeper than his normal voice. Gruff and full of gravel - it made your stomach soar with arousal. You were suddenly very aware of the fact that you hadn’t had him in a week. No hands roaming you. No tongue fighting yours. No cock- 

“You alright, sweetie? You find something new to admire?” he said with a lopsided, cocky grin. 

You let out a slightly labored breath, letting your eyes flutter shut so you could attempt to maintain some composure. 

Sylus ran his large hand over your thigh, across your hip, and up your waist. He noted how goosebumps sprouted over your skin and your back slightly arched. “I can feel your energy, you know… I can feel what you want… Where you want it…” he said. He silently slipped between your legs; innocently ghosting touches over your thighs while his lips placed feverish kisses at random. 

A moan fell from your lips before you responded between breaths, “And what… do I want?” you asked. 

“A taste of heaven.” he said. His words fanning over your barely covered pussy.

As you finally spread your legs wide for him, you felt the bed relax. You begrudgingly peaked, seeing a black feather between your legs. You picked it up, holding it between your fingers. You groaned in frustration. You felt the feather change and the bed shift, your eyes meeting his red ones. 

“Tease.” you complained before pulling him into a strong kiss. You made him yours. Made him feel how every bit of him was consumed by you. 

Sylus couldn’t hold himself back. He would never force you, or even try to persuade you. If it wasn’t an enthusiastic yes he didn’t want it. And he knew you were down the last few days. But he couldn’t deny how everyday he went to bed thinking of the way you looked and how much he wanted to ruin you. He kissed down your torso sloppily before landing between your legs. His eyes met yours, checking for consent. You nodded quickly, shoving the sides of your underwear down. He ripped them off completely. His large hands pinning your hips to the bed as he dove between your thighs. Attacking your heat with everything he could muster. He was like a man starved in every sense of the word and you were the only thing that could satiate him. He ruined you, gave you a taste of the heavens. He would do this every minute of every day for the next millenia if he could. Hell, he just might.

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Naboo's Note:

So sleepy.... must bed now... enjoy.... XOXOXOXOXOX