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domnamewoman · 8 months

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MK1 Characters Reaction: How They Act When They Get Clingy

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

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“Did you call upon me?” Liu Kang asked as he sat next to you on the couch, before positioning himself with his head resting in your lap.

You look from your phone screen down at him. “No, I didn’t call you,” you responded, baffled at where he got such an idea. “I’ve actually just been enjoying my own company for a little while. Nice and quiet.”

“You must have called me in my head then,” Liu Kang said, making no moves to get up.

You rolled your eyes as he made himself more comfortable in your lap. “That’s a very convenient excuse for you to use just to cuddle me.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, knowing he’d been caught. “Since I’m here now, I might as well stay for a bit, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you can stay lying here,” you sighed as you began running your fingers through his hair.

Liu Kang closed his eyes, “I could stay here for eons.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Eons is a very long time, don’t you think you’d get bored of me at some point?”

“Never, I always want to be around you,” Liu Kang admitted, staring up at you lovingly.

“Y/N,” huffed Raiden as he walked into your office to see you still typing away on your computer.

You briefly looked up at him, taking note of the pout present on his face. “What’s wrong Raiden?”

“You said you would be done working over an hour ago,” Raiden sighed as he walked up behind you.

“My boss emailed me saying they wanted some documents earlier than expected, so I had to take care of it.”

“Not anymore,” Raiden said as he started massaging your shoulders, “Take a break.”

You shook your head. “Raiden I can’t just stop working because you are too clingy to be left alone.”

“Yes, you can,” Raiden reasoned as he leaned his head against your shoulder and tightly wrapped his arms around you. “I will stay here until you stop. You know I will.”

You let out a sigh knowing that he was right. “You can be so stubborn sometimes. Fine, just let me send this last document and I’ll be done.”

Raiden placed a kiss on your cheek, “And then you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“There you are, I thought you’d gone out without telling me.” Kung Lao said as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I’ve been here for over an hour. You’re not very good at seeking if you have been looking for me that long.”

“I missed you, it was lonely downstairs,” Kung Lao whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden affection. “I was just in the bedroom, it’s not like I was in a different Realm.”

“I know,” he hummed, nuzzling into your neck, “it felt that way though.”

You continued to look at him in confusion as he made himself comfortable. “Either you’ve done something, or you’re about to.”

“No,” he chuckled, resting a hand against your thigh, “I just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. Is that such a crime as your boyfriend?”

You shook your head, “It’s just very unlike you to be this clingy around me.”

“People change Y/N, this is the new me.”

“Don’t just sit there,” Johnny said as he danced around the living room, swaying his hips, “come and dance with me.”

You shook your head as you remained seated on the couch, “you know I’m no good at dancing. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, and I’ll watch you from here.”

“You always say no, it’s time to say yes,” Johnny said as he suddenly pulled you up and placed his hands on your hips.

“You can’t make me dance against my will, Johnny.”

“Watch me,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “just stay nice and close to me.”

You rolled your eyes as Johnny worked you two into a two-step. “Do you really want me to dance, or is this just an excuse?”

“An excuse for what?” Johnny questioned innocently. “All I am doing is dancing with you. Whatever you think is going on here is just all in your head.”

“Sure,” you said as you nodded skeptically. “So you’re going to deny the fact that you just want to be clingy?”

“Me? Clingy? I would never be such a thing.”

“Are you sure Liu Kang got the time correct?” You ask as you look around, seeing no one in sight.

Kenshi told you that Liu Kang caught wind of a shady meet-up happening and wanted you both to spy on the dealings.

“Uh… yeah. He said they would be meeting here around this time.” Kenshi said, not meeting your eyes.

“We’ve been waiting for almost an hour though,” you sigh, honestly you were getting kind of bored.

“You know how evil-doers are, never showing up on time…”

Something was off about the way Kenshi was acting. Now that you think about it, if something was happening here, why would Liu Kang only send you two? “Kenshi… is there really a mission?”

“Fine… There is no mission,” Kenshi sighs as he looks down, “I just wanted to spend time with you alone. The guys are always around.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You didn’t have to do all of this if you wanted to be clingy, you could’ve just asked me out on a date.” You stand up and hold out your hand to your boyfriend, “Come on, you owe me an “all you can eat” at Madam Bo’s for waiting here so long.”

“All you can eat… Madam Bo’s prices are kind of…” Kenshi stops himself as he sees your expression, “Of course, anything for my love. Let’s go.”

“You don’t seem to have a fever,” you say as you hold the back of your hand to Kitana’s forehead.

“Are you sure”–cough–”I definitely feel hot and clammy,” Kitana says as she pulls the blanket up to her chin.

“Hmm, okay then, let me go get the royal physician,” You say as you stand from the bed, heading towards the door.

“Uh no no,” Kitana reaches out to stop you, “I don’t need the physician.”

“Kitana, you might have something serious. I don’t know anything about medicine, clearly since I couldn’t even detect your fever, so I can’t help you.” You try to reason with her, worried about her condition.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, just a little cold. Nothing some cuddles can’t fix,” Kitana suggests, smiling at you.

“How are cuddles going to help? You need medicine, some soup at the very least,” You turn to go to the kitchen, “Wait here, I will go make you something.”

“I’m not really sick,” Kitana admits as she gets out of bed and walks over to you, “I just wanted to cuddle.”

You embrace your pouting girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead. “You know, I think I feel that fever now. I believe a healthy dose of cuddles should clear it right up.”

“Wow, you look amazing,” Mileena said in awe as you came into the room, giving her a twirl to show off your outfit. “You are definitely staying by my side the entire night.”

You shook your head, “This is your first event as Empress. You have to mingle with the people and not stay glued to my side all night long, promise?”

“I can’t make any promises when you look this stunning.”

You playfully bop her nose, “Mileena, if you are going to cling to me all night, I will stay home. You can’t waste this opportunity to make a good impression on the people.”

“You might help me impress,” her eyes raked over you, “especially with how good you look.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine, but you aren’t allowed to be clingy. I’m not your priority tonight, I’m just supporting you.”

“You are always my priority,” Mileena whispered in your ear, “besides, I can cling to you and mingle with the people. I’m good at being subtle.”

“You have never been subtle in all the time I’ve known you.”

“Well,” Mileena said, guiding you to the door, “there’s a first time for everything.”

“I knew I smelled food,” Tanya said as she entered the kitchen and found you leaning over the stove, preparing dinner.

“Go away, I know what you’re doing. I don’t need your help or advice.” You said as you pushed her away when she came up behind you.

“We can cook together, it’s romantic,” Tanya persuaded.

You shook your head, knowing your girlfriend. “We don’t cook together, you always take over. I know you’re the better cook, but I want to do this for you for once.”

“Fine, I’ll be quiet,” Tanya compromised, “Just let me stay here and watch you.”

You looked at her skeptically, “You really want to watch? Fine, if you want to be clingy then I guess I’ll let you stay.”

“Yes, I want to be clingy,” Tanya smiled as she quickly pecked your lips. “I know I said I would be quiet, but that pot is bubbling almost to the point of being unsalvageable.”

You whip around to see the pot almost spilled over. “See, this is your fault for being so clingy,” You sigh as you lower the heat.

“Mhmm, sure it is.”

“Then what you want to do is grab their arm and bring it over your shoulder like this,” Bi-Han demonstrated, “After that, you can use the momentum to throw them on the ground.”

“Mhm, and why are you teaching me basic throws again?” You questioned. When Bi-Han said he wanted to do some sparing practice, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

“So you can learn them, of course.”

“Bi-Han, I’m one of the Lin Kuei’s top fighters. I know how to do basic throws.”

“Really, then show me,” Bi-Han said as he charged at you.

You quickly side-stepped him and grabbed his arm, leaning down and throwing him over your shoulder, executing the move flawlessly.

“I guess you do know them,” He grunted from the ground.

You squat down next to him, sighing, “What is really going on here, Bi-Han?”

He sat up, resting one arm on his bent knee and looking down dejectedly. “I wanted to have some extra time with you but I couldn’t pull you away from your duties unless it was for training.”

“Oh my, is the great Grandmaster being clingy?” You taunt. “Come on then. I think I need to work on my ground moves,” You said before tackling him.

“Shouldn’t we have arrived by now?” You ask Kuai Liang. You two were walking to a new restaurant, where you would be meeting Tomas and Bi-Han for dinner.

“It’s just a little further up the road.” Kuai Liang reassured.

“Hmm, didn’t Bi-Han say that it wasn’t far from the house? We’ve been walking for a while now.”

“He’s not that great with directions,” Kuai Liang dismissed, “Anyway, isn’t this nice? Look at the full moon, it’s a beautiful night.”

“Yes it is,” you said looking at the sky, “But I don’t want us to be late, maybe I should call?”

“There’s no need for that,” he insisted as he grabbed your hand, holding it as you two walked.

You nod, dropping the issue. It was a beautiful night and you enjoyed the romantic atmosphere surrounding you and your boyfriend as you walked together. That is until you spot a familiar-looking merchant’s cart. “Wait a minute, we pasted this cart before. Have we been walking in circles?”

You look at your boyfriend, who is conveniently not meeting your gaze. You stop walking and stand in front of him. “Maybe…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I wanted a little alone time with you before meeting them at the restaurant.”

“I can’t believe this,” you chuckle, playfully hitting his chest. “If your clinginess has made me miss out on the steamed buns you’re in trouble. You know Bi-Han always tries to eat all of them.”

“Are you really going out?” Tomas asked as he saw you dressed up and collecting your things to leave. “I thought we could spend the evening in and watch a movie.”

You shook your head, “Sorry baby, I’m meeting Kung Lao and Raiden at Madam Bo’s for dinner. We have had this planned for weeks, it’s the one day we are all free.”

“This is my last day free this week before I’ll be busy again.”

“I know, but we spent all day together yesterday. I’m surprised you aren’t tired of me. All of your free time is spent with me.”

“I like it that way,” Tomas pouted as he followed you around the room, “What if you invite them here instead?”

“Madam Bo has a new dish she is dying to have us try.”

“Oh… alright.”

You look up to see the dejected look on your boyfriend’s face. You couldn’t stand to see him upset.

“I suppose you could tag along. The boys wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes, that’s great. Just give me one moment,” Tomas said happily, kissing your cheek before rushing off to get ready.

“Are you sure you have time for this?” You ask Syzoth as you two walk through the farmer’s market picking out vegetables.

“Of course I do,” Syzoth reassures moving in close behind you as you look at tomatoes, “I never get to go shopping with you.”

“That’s because you’re busy being the Empress’s Mercenary,” You smile at him over your shoulder, “Which is why I’m surprised you’re free right now.”

“I know r-”

“Syzoth,” Syzoth was interrupted by someone calling his name. You both look over to see Tanya. “There you are, the Empress has been looking for you.”

You turn and raise your eyebrow at your boyfriend, “Syzoth… I thought you said you had the morning off?”

“I’ll be there in one moment,” Syzoth addresses Tanya before looking back at you sheepishly. “Uh… I kind of skipped work this morning when you told me you were headed to the market.”

“Syzoth,” You say exasperatedly, “Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. I’m always working and I… I miss you.”

You sigh, pulling your clingy boyfriend in for a kiss. “Okay, go see the Empress. I’ll make sure I stay up late tonight so we can spend some time together when you get home.” You promised.

“You really don't have to come with me," You said as you walked with Baraka. Liu Kang sent you on a simple mission and Baraka insisted on going with you.

"It doesn't hurt to have backup," Baraka reasoned.

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this one on my own."

"I do not doubt your fighting skills. But there is always the possibility of something unexpected happening. You can not predict everything." Baraka said as he walked closer to you.

You couldn't argue with that logic. But… "You've never offered to go with anyone else on a solo mission."

"Well…" Baraka trailed off at a loss for words.

"Did you just want to spend time with me?" You ask, smiling widely at him.

“What is wrong with that,” Baraka stated, not at all ashamed, “It is not a crime for me to want to spend time with my lover.”

“No, it's not,” You agreed as you bumped your shoulder into him, “It just makes you clingy.”

Shang Tsung stared at you in annoyance. “Do you plan on turning a page anytime soon?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can’t rush a reader. I’m immersing and absorbing every detail of this story.”

“You’re doing this on purpose to tease me.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. He was right. “I’m not doing anything on purpose. I’m simply reading a book. It’s a good story, you would enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy your attention more,” Shang Tsung mumbled.

You let out a chuckle, “I never knew you could be so clingy.”

“I’m not clingy. It’s just that you have never taken this long to read a book.”

You smile as you close your book and set it down. “No, I haven’t, but it was fun seeing how far I can push you.”

“Stop pushing and come over here,” Shang Tsung replied as he opened his arms waiting for you to fall into them.

“Do you need some help?” Zeffeero poked his head in and asked for the fifth time in under an hour.

“No Zeffeero, I’m still okay,” you roll your eyes. You were rearranging your office and Zeffeero just couldn’t seem to let you be.

“Are you sure? That desk looks heavy, I’ll take it,” He said as he walked in and replaced your hands with his, “Where do you want it?”

“Up against that wall,” You point, finally giving up and letting him help. You watch as he moves the desk where you told him to.

“Is there anything else you need?” Zeffeero asks eagerly.

“No, I got it. I’m just going to put the books in these two boxes on the bookshelf.” You told him.

“I’ll help you.” He said as he started taking the books out.

You cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, “What’s up with you? Why are you being clingy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He walks up to you and kisses your cheek, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

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cy-cyborg · 9 months

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Tips for writing and drawing amputee characters: Stump Scarring

This was something I had originally intended to mention in this post but felt it deserved its own separate post.

A lot of people, when drawing and designing amputee characters, draw their characters with these big, gnarly looking scars all over the stump. I get why people do this, but in reality, most amputees have stumps that look more like this:

The only scarring that is inherent to amputation (meaning most amputees have) is a very thin line right at the tip of the stump that comes from where the stump was sewn shut. After 5-10 years though, these thin incision scars will fade to be nearly invisible in most folks other than the indent it usually leaves in the skin.

Of course, there are exceptions! My own legs are covered in heavy scarring like the pictures below.

but typically, you only see this in amputees who lost their limb in ways that required them to also need skin grafts, such as from a burn (fire or acid), gangrene, some types of rapid-onset sepsis, or particularly brutal animal attacks.

For context, I used scars from meningococcal as reference here.

I think this is another reason a lot of people, particularly in 2D comics and animation, cover their amputee character's stumps, because they think all amputees have scars like the ones in the second image and I'll be honest, that's a lot to draw when you're drawing it over and over again, but unless your amputee also needed skin grafts bcuase of their injury/illness, their stumps will look more like the first images.

Fun fact: on particularly pale skin, scars can change colour depending on temperature. scars have less circulation and the blood vessels are closer to the skin, which means if you don't have a lot of melanin, your scars can turn a grey-ish purple colour like so:

This information is brought to you by an especially pasty white person in the southern hemisphere (where it's winter atm) who's scars haven't seen the sun since june lmao.

A quick final note: If you look up "burn scars" or any other similar type of large scarring on google a lot of what you get are fresh scars, so they're going to look different than the ones here. On pale skin, large scars like the ones above start out very dark red and will fade to look more like the images here. The same is true for dark skin, typically fresh scars will be much darker in colouration and will fade to be closer to the natural skin tone with time, though on both, they will always be very visible. Some types of scarring on darker skin tones can cause the skin to become lighter, but they don't usually turn entirely light pink like I've seen some folks draw. This is why it's so important to look up references of the type of scar your character has AND how that looks on their skin tone.

And as always, listen to POC and seek out the recourses specifically made by them, especially if you're drawing characters with darker skin tones. Their lived experience will always beat my "what I found through internet research and from talking to friends"

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charmercharm3r · 10 months

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okay but after reading that 9th member boxing, i need to hear more instances where the boys see her practically naked. like idk at the the gym(again), practice, around the dorm, etc. like maybe she’s getting more comfortable with showing skin but only around the boys so it still catches them off guard cause of how new it still is to all of them

a lil blurb cus I thought this was cute

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☆ﾟ

You were just so tired, dehydrated, and felt sticky from sweating for the past god knows how many hours at dance practice. It was just you in the practice room for a while until Hyunjin convinced you that it was time to head home. He was surprised you were even still at the company, considering it was supposed to be a rest day for the group.

The two of you headed home together, him having to almost hold you up most of the way because it felt like your limbs were going to give out any second. “You can have the shower first, you’re kinda stinky,” he teased as he led you through the threshold.

“Gee, thanks! You’re so kind.” Hyunjin smirked at the sarcasm, nudging your shoulder before departing to his room.

Living in the dorm with him, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung was usually rather quiet when 3racha were gone. Hyunjin enjoyed his alone time, as did Jisung when he was home, though when everyone was back at the same time, there was no such thing as peace or personal space.

The only thing you were glad for was finally having your own room, how the company managed to find a 5 bedroom apartment, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. Room not too small, just enough space for a bed, desk, and closet, you were comfortable.

Tossing your bag down and grabbing a clean towel, you headed to the bathroom before the rest of the members could come home.

There was a new bottle in the shower, brown and expensive looking. “Jinnie, did you get a new hair product?” You called out, picking it up to inspect.

“Yeah, I heard it was really good. Try a little if you want,” he yelled back from his room. Calling back a, "sure, thanks," you shut the door and started your shower.

There was so much on your find, you don't know how long you spent under the water. It took some time before you even undressed, looking at yourself in the mirror and examining what body part you thought might stand out for the public to talk about for the next come back. There was always something wrong, nothing you did ever felt good enough.

Sometimes your thighs were too big, sometimes your arms weren't toned enough. Oh no, you're wearing a crop top? Someone cover her up, she's seeking validation! God forbid you wear anything other than long sleeves because elbows are just too sexy. As if she doesn't get enough spotlight already being in an all male group, gotta have a part in the song a second longer than the rest because you have to be the center of attention!

Another few minutes to let the water soak down to your bones, you took your time shampooing, soaping, everything in between and taking mental notes of things you needed to improve upon. One wrong step and it's over, not just for you, but your entire group, as well. If you were to be the reason they got dragged down-

No, that's the shower thoughts talking. Probably time to get out, anyways. Changbin will have a fit if he doesn't get some warm water for himself.

So consumed in your own head, you weren't thinking when you threw on just your bra and underwear and opened the bathroom door. Dirty clothes in one hand, rubbing the towel into your hair, the trek to your bedroom through the house felt so long up until you got through the door.

The dorm was quiet, the others must still be out. Hyunjin won't show his face until dinner time, if you were fast you could grab a snack from the kitchen. Yeah, it won't take longer than a minute. Make it quick-

You padded out of your bedroom and made it a step into the living room before stopping dead in your tracks, eight pairs of eyes looking at you big with mouths dropped so wide it could catch flies.

The other members were sitting in various places surrounding the couch and coffee table. Chan scratched at his ear and darted his eyes back and forth, unsure of whether or not to look. Minho didn't seemed like he cared too much, while Jisung and Seungmin obviously raked their gaze from your head to your toes. The other four focused on different areas, but you ran away as quickly as you came with a trail of beat red embarrassment to follow.

As soon as the door slammed shut you threw your pajamas on and paced back for forth for a bit.

You should just act like nothing happened. They probably don't care. No, they definitely don't care. They're just body parts and everyone has them. But they were your body parts. For as long as you'd known them, you'd been so careful.

It's fine- they're not prudes, they're young adults that watch more porn than you ever could in your life time. They're just boys. Your boys. Your best friends. Yeah, they won't care. It's fine. You're fine. You're-

"Y/N'ie?"

A knock on your door had you stutter in your steps. When you didn't respond, the voice spoke again, "there's food here if you wanna join."

It took you another second to process what had just happened. The floor creaked on the other side and you panicked again, "Felix?"

The footsteps backtracked and stopped outside your door again, "yeah?"

"What kind of food?" He giggled lightly to himself.

"Come eat with us and you'll find out."

Slowly you came to the door, torn on hiding in your room for the next few hours or facing the eight people that caused your massive embarrassment in the first place. It felt so stupid to even feel such a way around those who you'd already been through hell and back with, the same people you've lived with and known for years and have seen you at your worst.

Felix's weight leaning against the other side of the door made him stumble forward when you finally opened it. Setting aside his momentary hiccup, he smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring into a quick hug. You let him drape over you as you made your way back into the living room where everyone else was waiting.

Quiet as you sat down between Minho and Jeongin- Felix across the coffee table, quiet as you grabbed a pair of chopstick, quiet as you began to eat. The eight of them watched you chew, chew, swallow, not moving a muscle as though they were walking on eggshells as not to scare you off.

Now you felt stupid. This was stupid. Just body parts. They're just body parts.

"Stop staring at me, virgins. Eat before it gets cold." Minho at your side dug in first, then the rest followed suit as you all enjoyed the meal together.

You could feel Jeongin taking quick peaks at you as you ate. He jolted a little when you nudged his shoulder to get him to talk. A light blush flooded his cheeks and ears, putting another piece onto your plate as he leaned in to whisper, "you looked really pretty."

"Don't spread gossip, Yang Jeongin. Share it with the table," Jisung teased and drew the attention of the rest of the members.

"Look, he's flustered. What'd you say to Y/N'ie?" Hyunjin joined in and ruffled the younger's hair.

"Nothing! It's none of your business-"

"He called me pretty," you played along and pinched Jeongin's cheek, making him swat you and Hyunjin away with a few curses under his breath. Giggling and picking up your chopsticks again, you brought some food to your mouth, "you wanna kiss me sooo bad."

All of them spoke at once, "yes."

"Wait, what?" Quiet again. What is it with them and perfectly timed silence?

When you faced Minho, he was particularly unashamed in the way he eyed your lips as you slowly chewed your food. You looked at them around the table, "ew. Bitchless. All of you," and stole a large portion of food to take back to your room.

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffi t@fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchandler @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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55sturn · 3 months

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✮ OH, BABYDOLL.

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which a night of drunken celebration between matt and his best friend turns into something more, something they both yearned for.

warnings: swearing, alcoholic consumption, making out, use of y/n, slightly suggestive (?) touching, pet name [doll], drunk confessions.

THIRD PERSON POV

everyone has someone in their life that they’ll never really get over, whether it be an ex friend, or an ex lover, there’s always going to be lingering feelings for that person. for matt, it was his best friend.

at first he figured that he was only attracted to her physically and sexually because he was pent up. so the day he noticed that he kept checking her out, he sent a text to an ex hookup and got the job done. but the next day, he was backing to wanting her in such an animalistic and carnal way that it was hard to be around without all the blood rushing from his head to somewhere else.

but the longer his attraction went on, the more confused he ended up. he searched for her in every room, after every joke he told in hopes that he’d find her laughing. he began immediately seeking her the moment he’d step into the house after a rough day.

he realized it became something more when he found himself driving to her apartment complex without prior announcement the moment he received good news about his yesterday’s problem project.

he realized it became something more when he crafted journals for his own personal brand based off the journal she carried with her everywhere.

and he realized that he’s never really wanted anyone the way he’s wanted her, and once that was revealed to him, he tried to move on. he dated girls far and few in between, and none of them never really ignited the flame that lay dormant in the pit of his stomach the way y/n did. other girls never stirred up the butterflies that lay peaceful in his chest every time he was away from her.

he realized that he was fucked. he loved you and there no changing that.

so when he began noticing that she seemed so different after starting her new assistant job, he begged her to quit. it changed her into a dull shell of the lively, bright, and happy person she was. he really believed that it had caused her to lose that sparkle in her personality that made her everything he loved, and honestly he loved her regardless, he just missed her bubbly personality. he had noticed that even her eyes seemed dull.

when you called him later in the day, muttering something along the lines of “i didn’t think the day would come but it did and i don’t have to get up at nearly five in the morning tomorrow!” he couldn’t fully make out the words because of how jumbled you become whenever you’re excited.

“doll, you’re getting all jumbled again, can you repeat that?” he hummed, the pet name you knew all too well that still managed to have the tips of your ears turning pink and hot slipping from his lips, sounding sickeningly sweet. he started calling you doll not too long after you guys met, every time he picked you up when he asked to hangout, you’d come out singing babydoll by dominic fike because it was a song you were obsessed with, but the real reason behind was the night you guys met at some party, you were wearing a cropped raglan style baby tee that read babydoll in the iconic bratz font. the sleeves and collar were bright pink, and the text matched.

he felt that calling you “babydoll” made him sound a bit too much like a boyfriend, so from then on, he coined that nickname “doll”, and it stirred up a sweet and delicate feeling in your chest but it also caused your head to fall fuzzy to the utmost dangerous thoughts about your best friend.

but honestly, you were entranced with the sentimental feeling that bloomed in your chest every time he spoke the nickname.

“i said,” you start, dragging out the “a” as you turn on to his street, “that the day where i quit my job has finally come! so i’m outside because we’re gonna go to some bar or club and celebrate. that’s why i told you to get ready earlier and order an uber.”

“holy shit i cant believe you actually did it!”

“same now get the fuck out here!” you giggled, ending the call and climbing out of your car, waiting against the driver’s door as matt stepped outside, making quick strides over to you, and pulling you into a hug as the uber he ordered came into view.

the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, not wanting to talk about too much with a stranger in the car, knowing very well it could fall on the wrong ears when another passenger climbs into that very seat.

you were beginning to question whether or not getting drunk with matt was a good idea, you had been harbouring so many things directed toward him for the last little while, and you were about to combust. you knew that if you had even the tiniest bit of liquid courage in you, your deepest secrets would come tumbling out like word vomit.

as if matt could sense your worry, he placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh as if to say “you’re okay.” and in all honesty, you were both convinced you each had a sixth sense when it came to one another, you could easily read matt and figure out what he was feeling or thinking after a split second of looking at him, and vice versa. your internal spiral was cut short as yours and matt’s favourite club came into view.

you both quickly thanked your uber, giving him a perfect rating before making your way into the club.

“what are we drinking first, doll?” matt hums, however his words fell on vacant ears, you couldn’t stop yourself from zoning out on the way he looked tonight, his shoulders look broad and defined beneath the dark muscle tee he wore, and the pants he paired his shirt with were your favourite pair of anything he owned. they were his black carhartt carpenter pants, paired with his notorious key ring attached to the belt loop, and his white airforces. matt noticed the way you were watching him, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence flow through his veins.

“huh?” you sputter, finally meeting his eyes with your face turning a deep pink, but you were glad the strobe lights in the club were red.

“what are we drinking first?”

“i need a shot of tequila and a vodka redbull.”

“make that two shots, a vodka redbull for her, and i’ll just have a jack and coke.” matt calls to the bartender, having to raise his voice over the loud music and chatter surrounding the bar. once again, as you wait for your drinks, you finding yourself falling into deep concentration, unable to tear your eyes from matt as he leans against the bar. matt turns to hand you your shot, only to find you roughly feeding half of your bottom lip between your teeth, your stare vacant but determined.

“doll, you’re gonna split your lip, stop doing that.” he murmurs, loud enough for only you to hear as he presses his thumb against your lip, pulling it from your teeth, slowly becoming hypnotized by the way it recoils back into its natural pout.

“sorry, the realization of everything is settling in you know?”

“that’s why we’re gonna take our shots, chug our drinks, order more shots, and then dance.”

“matthew sturniolo? offering to dance before anyone else? did i trip and fall into an alternate universe?”

“shut up.” he laughs, downing his shot after clinking his glass against yours, and once again you’re entranced by him, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs slowly as he swallows, finding it incredibly attractive how he hardly makes a face after the shot is gone. before he can meet your stare, you down your shot, followed by your drink, getting rid of both quite quickly, and ordering two more shots for you and matt.

about an hour passes, and you’re both quite tipsy as you dance and scream along to the music, laughing at the moves you both pull out, not caring if anyone sees or judges. but you’re about to tap matt on the shoulder to tell him you’re going to order another, when babydoll comes on. you’re shocked to say the least, it’s not really a clubbing song but you’re thanking whatever being above compelled the dj to play it. matt watches you dance along to your favourite song with a dazed grin, his eyes beginning to become hooded as the alcohol takes over his body.

as you’re singing along, you make eye contact with him and it feels as id the entire world stops, like time was standing still as you slowly gravitate toward him. you’re watching him with through rose coloured glasses as his hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against him with your hands on his shoulders, and rocking your bodies back and forth. the heat emanating from his palms against your hips and lower back makes your head spin in the best way as you lean in close, your lips ghosting over his as you mumble the words,

“oh babydoll, i cant move on.”

the words almost act as if they’re an unspoken confession, because matt’s nodding along to your words, understanding the underlying meaning behind them. and matt humming the next line, his lips pressing just the slightest bit more against yours, and you’re understanding everything he’s implying.

what started out as an innocent celebration between you two, has now become a flustered mess, your lips are so close, and yet neither of you are ready to cross that line as the next song begins playing, and it’s a raunchy and filthy song, making the moment all the more erotic.

“i need to kiss you, matt.” you whisper against his lips, the torture of having them so close yet so far was causing your head to spin, and you couldn’t wait anymore. and as if to tease you more, matt’s tongue darts between his lips, wetting them, the tip of it brushing ever so slightly against yours. and he couldn’t help smirk as your eyes flutter shut at the smallest amount of contact. and all your self will goes out the window as you hook your fingers around his silver chain, tugging his lips completely against yours, your mouths moving in sync as you reach the moment you’ve been craving since you met matt.

the kiss is sloppy, warm, and extremely hot. it was a mess of clashing teeth, spit swapping, and tangled tongues. matt’s the first to pull away, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth ever so gently, loving the way it bounces back. he loves everything about your lips, the fullness, the shape, and god their shade of pink drives him crazy.

“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted that, doll.” his whispers, his voice think with want and fulfillment as he stares down at you, his left hand moving from your hip to your jaw, his thumb resting against your lip as you smile at him.

“i think i have an idea because i’ve wanted it just as long, matty.”

the two of you don’t break too far apart for the rest of the night, allowing yourselves to sit comfortably in the purgatory of staying the same or indulging in something more that you’ve turned your friendship into. you’re sure to regret letting yourself give so easily into wrecking your friendship with him in the morning, but right now, you couldn’t be bothered, especially not after finally kissing him because right now, all you want to do is keep kissing him. the way his lips fit against yours has almost become addictive, loving the way his lips taste slightly like your lip glass with remnants of coke and rum.

you weren’t sure how you were going to navigate the new change, but what did know was that you were going to be utterly fucked when you wake up tomorrow and remember that you made out with matt.

taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @florcult @flynnriderishot @33sturniolo @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @hesvoid3434 @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo oneshots #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo oneshots

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

Note

Hiiiii!! So I was wondering if you could write a story where the reader is stuck into a relationship with a driver (you choose babes), but she has this hugeee crush on him but her hates you and has a gf behind your back because it’s not like you two even love each other right, it’s a forced relationship after all, so the reader gets very angsty and a friend of the driver your dating notices it and you two get close and fall in love and the other driver/reader’s fake bf gets crazy jealous for some reason he doesn’t understand but it’s too late bc you managed to break up with him anywaysss!! Thanks lovelyyyyy, I adoreee your fics btw lyyyyy🫶🏻

okayokay i didn't want to have it with her dating another driver bc i basically love everybody so i made it a mechanic i hope thats okay

warnings: Cheating

F1 Masterlist

There was something great about being an F1 couple. He got to work as a mechanic for McLaren while she got to work as the social media manager for her favourite team. It was amazing and it worked perfectly.

They started dating when Lando and Daniel were driving for the team. She was always in the garage, camera at the ready. They were in love then, so fucking happy.

And she was still in love now. It was a year later and Daniel had been replaced by his fellow aussie, Oscar. She might have still been in love, but he was not. He had very much fallen out of love.

Maybe he had gotten bored with her, it wasn't very clear. But suddenly he was secretive, barely speaking when he was around her, hiding his phone from her.

He was cheating on her. That much was clear.

She had found out on the Friday of a Grand Prix weekend. His phone had been left beside her and she simply turned it on to check the time. The messages had been there, as plain as day. Girlfriend Number One (as her contact name had been) had sent a text. She didn't remember sending those thing to him. Maybe because she hadn't.

Oscar found her hidden away in the back of the McLaren garage, sobbing her eyes out. She couldn't go back to the hotel room to cry, she had a job to do.

Oscar didn't know what to do. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes, but quickly looked away. Part of him knew he couldn't leave her. So he sat down beside her and pulled his knees up to his chest.

When he sat down, she tried her best to stop crying, but it wasn't happening any time soon. She furiously wiped at her eyes, wiping away the tears. But nothing was helping.

"Are you okay?" As soon as Oscar asked the question, he was kicking himself. Of course she wasn't okay.

She wiped her eyes again and looked at Oscar. She went to nod her head, but the tears started flowing again. "Fuck," she hissed, once again wiping at her cheeks. "Sorry, i-"

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't be bothering you with this," she said and went to walk away. Oscar let her go. He watched as she walked away before he stood up.

They kept running into each other. Everywhere they went they'd bump into each other. It was expected, really. They did work for the same people. And, each time that they ran into each other, Oscar would ask if she was okay.

It was only once he made a point to seek her out that she told him. She told him all about the messages she had seen on her partners phone. In the middle of her rant, he, the man who had cheated on her, came walking towards them. She froze up and Oscar took her hands. "It's okay," he said and she stepped towards him, letting her partner pass.

Because they hadn't broken up yet. She didn't know how to break up with him. Part of her was still in love with him, as dumb as it might sound. But Oscar certainly helped with that. They began spending much of their time together and, for the first time in a while, she felt happy.

You wouldn't think a man who is no longer in love would get jealous, but that was exactly what happened. He watched as she and Oscar simply got along, and that was enough to enrage him. But what could he do? Girlfriend number one was texting him.

It was still rather uncomfortable that they shared a hotel room. She pretended not to notice as he texted other women, pretended not to care. With Oscars help, she stopped caring.

One day she booked into a different hotel room. It was Monza and, somehow, this was the weekend she knew she had to leave him. So, she did just that. She left him. And it was all thanks to Oscar.

Oscar, who had been so kind to her. Oscar who had helped her to see she was worth more than him. Oscar who she much preferred to him.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri x reader smut #oscar piastri smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #op81 #op81 imagine #op81 x reader

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maximotts · 7 months

Text

☽ 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘 ☾

☾ 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑: private hire!WandaNat

So @nats-firefly and I discussed this idea way before October, but brought it up again when I mentioned wanting to do a ph!WandaNat thing and now.. here we are.. filth amongst sleepy gays

private hire AU. kinktober masterlist. 18+ only, minors dni. you don’t need to add community labels, I’ve put adequate warnings below.

wc: 4.5k. cw: smut that starts out fluffy, but Wanda gets irritated. kinda cuddly sex. groping. fingering. punishments/attention denial. humiliation/degradation in the form of being babied. brief oral. overstim. typical Nat annoying Wanda. bratty reader bc people are always asking to see what would happen if you pushed Wanda's limits.

No outside clothes on the bed.

One of Wanda’s few house rules and generally easy to follow… until you were exhausted and she was snapping her fingers at you before you could take a second step towards her mattress.

Typically if you were too tired to seek out pajamas you’d suck it up and fall into your own bed, passing out until you gained energy to sort yourself out in the morning, but tonight was different. Your shift was long and felt even longer, filled with coworker mishaps and annoying customers that left you checking your watch every few minutes towards the end of the night. All you dreamt of on the ride home was Wanda and her warm bed, knowing she’d most likely be up despite the late hour.

She had the tendency to worry; no matter how even-tempered she appeared, Wanda stayed up as late as she could for Natasha, and now you as well, to come home to her. You’d headed out earlier than your normal shifts, just after midnight, and with your boss always being notified the moment you left work, there was no doubt Wanda would be wide awake.

As expected, you found Wanda in her bedroom, nose deep in a book. She looked so happy to see you, you thought maybe you could skirt by her standards just this once-

“Don’t you dare get those dirty clothes anywhere near my new comforter.”

“Wandaaaaa…” You groaned like a child, halfway to stamping your foot if you didn’t know that’d get you kicked out instantly. “I’m exhausted! It won’t ruin anything just once.”

But no amount of puppy dog pouts could make Wanda budge; the woman was so stubborn for the smallest things. You’d seen Natasha tease her for it, and even then, she stood firm; apparently there was a time when Wanda didn’t care, but once she started buying stuff of her own, she was intent on keeping it in order. “Not a chance. I can see at least three different cocktails spilled on your shirt! Get rid of the clothes or say goodnight and go to your bed.”

“So unfair…” The wardrobe across the room felt like too far of a journey, but you’d looked forward to the warmth of Wanda too much to deny yourself now. Before you knew it, you’d begun shedding your clothes, kicking them away into a lazy pile on the floor and wandering back over to your goal.

Unexpected as it was, the sight of you tiredly stripping down amused Wanda and she didn’t stop you from sliding into bed, chuckling at your silly display of wiggling around until you successfully crawled on top of her fully clothed form. “Well aren’t you clever? Always trying to find yourself a loophole.”

“I like to think that’s what you love me for.” Tired arms wrapped around Wanda’s middle, resting your chin on her chest to gaze up at the older woman. Sleeping naked wasn’t your plan, but the act wasn’t unfamiliar, particularly in this room. Most of the time, though you got into bed wearing some kind of sleepwear, either Wanda or Natasha found a reason to take them off, anything from claiming to want a simple look to being straightforward in their desire to stake their obvious claim on you.

“I love you for a great many things, little one.” She let her book gently bop the top of your head before setting it aside on the nightstand, happy to give you her full attention. Spending the day alone wasn’t awful, but she missed you and Nat terribly, always preferring to be with at least one of you when she fell asleep.

The two of you settled into an easy embrace, Wanda drawing patterns over your bare back as you cuddled against her soft silken pajamas. Even back in silence like she’d been before your arrival, Wanda felt different, lighter, knowing she could hold you safe and her wife was on her way too. “How was your night? I got updates about some out of line people… I hope no one gave you too hard of a time.”

You shook your head, your frustrations melting away now that you were snuggled up to Wanda. It all seemed so far away while you were laid safe in your bosses’ cozy bedroom. “Nothing terrible, just felt like it lasted forever. It’s the Halloween crowd madness starting up, I think…”

The brunette nodded and listened as you went through details, throwing in a comment or two when needed; engaged even as her hands began wandering. She didn’t realize what she was doing at first, smoothing over the indulgent feel of your delicate skin. You were always just so pliant and willing; honestly, she decided you deserved a reward for following her rules with the last bits of your energy. Wanda loved knowing you’d chosen her over sleeping across the hall; it was hard to stay firm when she was also tired of sitting by herself, but if she gave in once, she’d never hear the end of it.

It started out innocent enough that you didn’t question her, overexerted muscles enjoying the gentle massage of your ass and thighs. By the time Wanda pushed your hips up to make room for her hand, you’d been pacified into a calm state of security all you offered was a pleased hum when she stroked over your mound. “You’ve done so much today. It’s about time you let me take care of you now.”

“Mhm..” She drew you in for a kiss, fluffy and sweet, mindful of your exhaustion. Wanda was always cautious of your state of mind, her considerate coddling making it easy for her to know exactly what you needed. If you needed her to take away all memories of her bad night, who was she to deny you?

Annoying as it’d been to be stopped on your way to bed, getting out of your work clothes did feel better and now you’d reap the benefits of choosing Wanda. Her touch was slow, sliding over center more to slowly work you up rather than to tease, like easing into a warm bath. “Thank you, mommy.”

“Of course, baby. You earned it for how hard you worked.” Her continued praise left you hiding your giggles in her chest, a dumb smile stamped on your features as Wanda dipped her first finger past your entrance. Rarely was Wanda this affectionate with you during sex, but she’d have to remember to do so more often, if only for how cute you looked right now. “I think someone likes being told they did a good job.”

“Maybe a little?” Your love of her acknowledgement was well known, there was no use denying it, but your sleepiness put you in a sillier mood— one that in turn rendered you more playful.

Oddly enough tonight, Wanda also happened to be relaxed enough to feed into it. “Something tells me it’s more than a little.” She fingered you open steadily, no rush to her movements, content to keep her mission slow for the time being. “If how desperately you’re squeezing my finger is any clue, you like it a lot…”

You mumbled some noncommittal response, squeaking as Wanda pushed further. It was way too little, but you were unwilling to speed up whatever the two of you had fallen into, much more interested in letting Wanda do what she pleased and seeing where it went. “Fine, I do like it when you tell me you like the work I do..”

“Good girl!” This time when she kissed you, she tugged your lip between her teeth, sucking at it until the red matched the flush of your cheeks. She was so happy to have someone who caught on quickly and so easily accepted doing things her way; Natasha always put up a fight, you were a lovely change of pace. “What else would you like? Another finger?”

“Yes! Yes please!” Pretending not to be interested in that suggestion would only hurt you, the much desired stretch of her long digits too tantalizing to pass up. Low on willpower, you easily went docile, letting Wanda’s care drive away the day’s anxieties.

You wiggled happily as her second finger joined the first, legs spreading as far as you could get them. Maybe you were being terribly obvious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when this was exactly what you’d longed to come home and experience. “I still would’ve made you take off your clothes, but if you needed this, you could’ve asked.”

Wanda thrusted into you harder now, bottoming out each time and like clockwork your moans came in tandem. She was so deep, you already felt so full, but still your hips rocked into her hand, unabashed in trying to find the perfect angle. “Wanted you all night.. To have you hold me and make me feel good.”

It was true; falling into bed naked would almost always lead to something like this, but the how was forever a fun surprise. Wanda misjudged your ability to plot this out, but wouldn’t apologize for her predictable handsy nature; what fun was having a girlfriend if she couldn’t keep her hands on you whenever she pleased?

“And you didn’t feel like asking so you figured you’d wait for me?” Wanda’s fingers curled and you nodded frantically, both answering her question and encouraging her to keep going. She did it again and again, letting her fingers stay put while your desperation grew; Wanda wasn’t particularly bothered by your little con, but she’d hate to let you fully get over on her.

Free hand traveling from your backside to your chin, Wanda grabbed your face and tapped your temple, forcing your attention. “Look at me if you’re going to properly own up to your trickery.”

Meeting Wanda’s gaze was nearly impossible with how turned on you were, her sharp green eyes against her soft, makeup free face was just so.. beautiful— and you’re hopeless with pretty women. “I’m sorry, mommy. Can I still cum?”

“You’re bold enough to think you were ever allowed without asking?” Once in a while Wanda feared Natasha was right: she bent too easily whenever it came to you. Judging as her voice may sound, Wanda wouldn’t have thought twice about letting you carry on. With how distracted she’d become with your darling behavior, the biggest reprimand would’ve been a pat on the back before letting you fall asleep on her chest as if she’d never set a single rule for you.

Wanda hated admitting Nat was right. “Don’t tell me you’re too tired to remember how to behave.”

“No! No, I’m not, please!” Wanda might’ve been in bed before you’d arrived, but she was far from asleep and while your version of playful was sweet, hers could easily be brash. She’d discovered your plan, fine, but you hadn’t planned for Wanda feeling anything but surprised. If she wanted to, your girlfriend would torment you for hours. Enduring any kind of punishment tonight would be torturous in your already exhausted state. “I wasn’t, I promise!”

“I know, baby, I know,” she cooed, kissing your quivering lips. You whined into her mouth as her hand sped up, as if Wanda suddenly decided to hurdle you towards orgasm, and your poor fatigued brain had to fight to keep up. “Sometimes you just get so sleepy and it’s hard to remember to ask out loud, yeah?”

It was an excuse both of you leaned on, you to appear like you hadn’t meant to overstep and Wanda to be able to point at your sleep deprivation when Natasha inevitably asked why you felt so emboldened to act out in the next few days.

“I forgot, I’m sorry… won’t do it again.” The gentleness of her words always charmed you, seeing Wanda’s soft side that was reserved for only you and her wife turning you on effortlessly. “Please, so close…”

Her thumb rolled over your neglected clit and your entire body shuddered, clinging onto Wanda as tight as you could. Fortunately for her, you didn’t have enough strength to restrict her breathing. “I wish you could feel how soaked my hand is right now, poor messy thing. If I let you cum, will you make those pretty noises I love hearing?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” The words came out smashed together, too preoccupied with Wanda curling her fingers in sync with her thumb, setting a pattern so mind numbing you didn’t realize your eyes had rolled back until the brunette dug her nails into the nape of your neck— nor did you hear Natasha walking through the door.

“How many times have I warned you not to promise her that?”

You startled at the extra hand on your head as it ruffled your messy hair before holding you still enough to kiss your temple. Natasha smelled earthy, like she’d been hunting in the woods; a stark contrast from where you last talked to her at the bar downtown. “Three hours ago when I saw you, you told me you felt dead on your feet, but refused to be sent home too early. Is Wanda keeping you up?”

“Yes, b-but I…” All at once you were keenly aware of how vulnerable you looked laid limply on Wanda, begging to cum as pitifully as a neglected pet. Nat had seen you like this and worse too many times to count, but being caught right on the edge left you shy.

“But she came home looking for it,” Wanda finished for you, pinching your thigh before you tried to pin your wanton display all on her. “Pajamas were too hard for our hard-worker to get to, but she wanted to sleep with me so she went with nothing because she’s smart enough to know it’s better to give me what I want.”

“More like I’ve taught her how to choose her battles when it comes to you.” The redhead didn’t force you to pull your gaze from where you hid your face in Wanda’s chest, choosing to smooth out the stray hairs she’d given you and while the gesture was sweet, both women pretty much babying you was overwhelming.

She wasn’t wrong, having learned either firsthand or from Nat’s instruction what was worth challenging versus when compliance was mandatory; she insisted there’d be a day when she could break Wanda of her bed linen obsessions. Both reasons your bosses gave you sounded submissive to one or the other, there was no use in acting tough when they were currently fawning over you like a lost lamb…

Silly as you were, you tried. “I was just sleepy.”

“Yeah? So sleepy you were begging for my fingers? Don’t try telling me you just wanted to sleep on them.” The idea shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, but you were adjusting before you could convince yourself not to, pushing Wanda’s fingers deeper where they’d retreated from your entrance. Nat couldn’t see it, but Wanda could feel the subtle movement, digits brought back into wet warmth you were suddenly intent on denying existed and it occurred to her then you had a bit of a stubborn streak as well.

Nothing she and Natasha couldn’t conquer though. “We just had a little chat about being upfront about what you want. Surely you’d tell me if all you wanted was to go to bed, sweetheart.”

But you were too busy throwing the comforter over your head, shrouding yourself from head to toe. “You started touching me.”

Wanda and Natasha’s dual bombardment was dizzying, enough to leave you fighting not to grab Wanda’s wrist and move it yourself. They were too observant, knew exactly what buttons to push when you were in a certain headspace; when you came home stressed like tonight, they’d seen how much better off you were after you let go, but often you needed a little help getting there.

Wanda got you close, but Nat’s sudden appearance threw you off and now she was back to square one. It wasn’t any lack of security around her -you loved Nat as much as you did Wanda and always felt safe with both of them- you, again stubbornly, always wanted to feel like you were impressing the redhead. The couple joked about it often, how quick you were to turn to Natasha and search her typically stoic face for any sign of amusement; with even the faintest hint of a smile the pair swore they saw hearts fill your eyes. “She’s had enough of you, Wanda. Give her a break.”

“Oh boo hoo,” Wanda scoffed, sticking her tongue out at the woman standing next to her, “you always go so shy around her, wanting to look cool. She can be just as submissive as you are right now, trust me.”

“I am not!” There were some things you’d see less than a handful of times in your life; a submissive Natasha was one of them.

“There you go, denying it just as hard as this one.” Wanda laughed loud enough to jostle you, chest bubbling with laughter under your hot cheek. She went back to rubbing your back with one hand, trying to comfort you amongst her blatant enjoyment of your predicament. Still her fingers stayed between your legs, stroking your folds lazily and confirming it was the very mortification you suffered that soaked you further.

Natasha made your same mistake, presuming Wanda was too preoccupied to bother with her sheets; she got as far as a welcome home kiss from her wife before a warning once over wordlessly directed her to get rid of her dirty leather jacket and scuffed jeans. “Yeah yeah, I’m going to change. Worry about that wiggly thing you’ve got weighing you down. I think you’ve summoned a blanket creature.”

“Aww, mommy’s little ghost,” she mocked, nuzzling her head atop yours before setting her wrist back to work. You’d been on the brink of something so blissful just moments before, it was all too easy to bring you back there. Even if you insisted on hiding from her and Nat now. “What’s the matter? You were just fucking yourself silly on my hand.”

“Nuh uh,” You wanted to sound more defiant than you had, but your voice sounded shaky and small. The futile attempt only brought more laughter to the pair, having unwittingly become their nightly entertainment.

“No? You’re not a very good liar.” One of Wanda’s most prominent shortcomings was her impatience, a facet that heavily influenced when you and Natasha backed off and let her be. Not only did you forget to account for that now, you’d taken her earlier gentleness for granted instead of recognizing it for the reward it was: two missteps you were too dazed to notice drew on her fragile patience.

“If you admit it, I’ll drive you wherever you want tomorrow.” She was trying so hard to stay careful with you despite how close she was to the end of her own rope, but all you came back with was a bullish shake of your head. “We can get your favorite pizza and try out that milkshake bar you keep trying to drag us to-”

“Oh yes, surely bargaining with your brat of a ghost will make her behave better!” Nat must’ve wandered into the closet based on how far away she sounded, too far to argue with even if you did want to dig yourself a deeper hole by defying both your girlfriends.

“Shut up, Tasha, you’re such a pain.” It was a muttered jab, Wanda now bored of arguing and your withdrawal. So what if she had to coax you into it, she missed watching your sweet, unguarded face fall apart before her. She tried not to hold it against you too much; obviously you were so worn out you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but she couldn’t shake her annoyance completely.

Playing nice wasn’t working anymore; maybe you’d settle faster if she let you be as invisible as you’re pretending. “She wasn’t difficult until you got here. I think showing off to you so much is making her pick up bad habits.”

“I don’t have bad habits- fuck…!” She shut you up with a too far thrust, fingertips pressing painfully deep. You weren’t a brat, not to Natasha and certainly not to Wanda, tired hips finally trying to match the latter’s motions just to prove you were ready to be cooperative again, but you’d blown your chances for Wanda’s grace and now she wasn’t listening.

Despite your denial, Wanda let you finish for the sole purpose of making you feel how obvious of a lie you’d spun. “Ignore me all you want, but we all know what your needy little cunt was after.”

You were certain she’d shove you off, roll you over, something with how she might as well have spat her last sentence at you, but instead of the absence of her, you got more. Wanda didn’t let up for a second, pistoning in and out all while settling into a casual conversation with her wife who’d just flopped down on the opposite side of the bed.

“I-I’m…” Oh. Wanda’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit like it was nothing more than a fidget toy, flicking back and forth while you fought a losing battle over control of your body. You pawed at her clumsily, legs scrambling for purchase as you tried to lift up for just a second and break free, but all your struggles were no match for Wanda’s strength. “Mommy?”

No response. For you, at least. Wanda was busy locking lips with Natasha, a quick squeak of her own pulled as Nat nipped along the corners of her mouth. “I wish you could’ve seen all of the costumes today, Tasha. I sent pictures, but with no text back I assumed you were busy all day.”

She had to hear you, impossible to miss with how you not only called out her name repeatedly but kissed apologies along her sternum, pleading for acknowledgement. And yet, Wanda didn’t seem to spare you a single thought. Her hands stayed firm on either side of your lower half, one splayed over the small of your back to keep you still and the other inspecting an ever-growing mess, the heavy drag of her so intense you were toeing the edge of a second climax within minutes.

If Natasha paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell, but her sympathy was rare, always the one warning Wanda against being too forgiving. Her current affection was the only thing keeping Wanda from snapping on you entirely though, knowing as much as she was focusing on getting you ready for bed, Wanda was fighting sleep too and it was making her moodier by the second. “You should’ve taken my text back as a reminder that I don’t wear Halloween costumes, sneaky wife of mine.”

Great, both her partners chose to be difficult tonight. “Why can’t either of you just listen to me?”

“Ohh look who’s a brat now, Wanda. Do you hear yourself?” Nat was muffled from where you were under your blanket shield, but her snark was still clear as day.

Wanda took her mounting frustrations out physically, cruelly pulling her hand away and wrenching out of Natasha’s reach mid-kiss. The two of you shared a disappointed whine, immediately suffering the consequences of your actions, but Wanda didn’t care. “It’s for a few hours for one night! It won’t kill you, I gave you an outfit once before-”

“Put your hand back, mommy, I was so close!”

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. You know better.” Wanda did return her hand in the form of a rapid succession of slaps, the thick, wet sounds of her open palm meeting your soaked, puffy core humiliating you beyond belief. It hurt, yes, but as the sting lingered it only stoked your desire for her further and as you pinned your lover’s hand between you and her thigh, you found you hadn’t lost a single bit of your need.

Learning from your mistake, you didn't push her, whining and pathetically getting yourself off while Wanda went back to coercing Natasha into Halloween fun. Obedience won you back some favor, three fingers now stretching you ruthlessly, second orgasm hitting you by surprise and bleeding straight into the third.

Somewhere around then was where you lost track of their conversation, Wanda and Natasha bickering back and forth slowly being drowned out by the ever-louder ringing of your ears. Your muscles went slack, jaw hanging open, drooling onto her wrinkling pajama shirt as you relented to Wanda’s torture and the pleasure she kept you so hooked on.

“Too much- I can’t, I can’t..!” You stammered out, fisting the mattress in a desperate plea for mercy. Everything ached, but you felt as though you were flying, soaring high above the house and into the dark city skies— and oh how you longed to fall right back into Wanda’s arms.

The older woman backed off almost too easily, returning to the gentle caresses she’d started with, “My hand’s tired, honey.”

You thought that’d be the end of it, that you’d stay here until you sailed into pleasant dreams, but then you were being rolled over and instead of hitting the mattress, your back met the sturdy warmth of Natasha’s lap. Relaxing there was all too easy, head rolling back onto her shoulder, moving without resistance as Nat’s fingers took hold of your chin and turned it until she could kiss you, deep and greedy. “Look at you, all fucked out already… Wanda, what’d you do to her?”

“Nothing she didn’t enjoy, whether she admits it or not. ” How Wanda managed to find her way to her knees so quickly was beyond you, but you didn’t have it in you to question. Lacquered nails slowly scratched over your pelvis where you still felt so tingly while Natasha took the opportunity to massage your newly exposed breasts, four hands exploring your exhausted body.

It was the same type of adoration you’d hid from earlier, but you were long past shying away now. You’d had more than enough of being ignored for a good while. “Hold her for me while I finish, you know how I hate messes in bed.”

Eyes you could barely manage to keep open peered past where Nat was groping you to see Wanda tie her hair back before settling onto her stomach, shuffling forward until she was close enough to nuzzle her cheek into your soft thighs. When she kissed your clit, you mewled, oversensitive from Wanda’s earlier abuse. “Mommy.. hurts..”

“Hush, baby, I’m only cleaning you up. I’d never hurt you,” Wanda whispered it so lovingly you had no choice to concede, discovering in the next second that even if you wanted to close your legs you couldn’t, Natasha’s own holding yours apart. She licked and sucked carefully, lulling your tired brain back into blissful nothingness.

The last thing you remember is Natasha’s deep voice right in your ear, your nipples caught between her calloused fingers as she rolled them in time with her wife’s tongue lapping at your leaking entrance. “Go to sleep, little dove, we’ll tuck you in safe and sound… and I promise to wake you up when I’m done with mommy.”

#I had to finish formatting this at work on my phone so if you see any issues uh… no you don’t 💖#private hire au #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader fic #wandanat x reader smut #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #maximotts kinktober #kinktober #motts writes.

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stayteezdreams · 16 days

Text

Dance Of Hearts

Plot: Returning for your yearly job at the Dance Camp, you prepare yourself for the nuisance that is Song Mingi. Will you be able to survive his games again? Or will you finally fall victim to his charms?

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Mingi x Dance Teacher!Reader (Gn!Reader)

Request: What about enemies to lovers with mingi, they’re both dance teachers at sleep away summer camp and he’s the menace I think he will be around the reader while reader tries to deny all the rumors the kids come up with about them both < sort of started out like this then went off the rails Requested By: Anon

Warnings: Mingi gives off sort of annoying fratboy vibes in the beginning and then becomes a KDrama level simp. So enjoy that whiplash I guess.

A/n: More like frenemies to lovers. This is my first time writing an au like this so I hope you like it! It turned out really long but I really enjoyed writing it!

Words: 5.9k

As the landscape grew more and more familiar, nervous and excited butterflies filled your stomach. As happy as you were to return to the camp, you had a few reasons to dread it as well. Lack of sleep, mosquitoes, sunburns.

But the main reason being, Song Mingi.

Mingi was another dance teacher around your age who had joined the camp about four years ago. You truly believed he made it his mission every season to irritate you as much as he could in the two weeks he had. Whether it be through challenging you, teasing you, or flirting with you, it was constant.

You and Mingi had an unusual relationship. The other staff and students called it a love-hate relationship, while many made bets on how long it would be before you either fought or started dating.

You challenged each other, teased and bullied, and you insulted yet joked with one another. He annoyed you, but you had to admit, you kind of missed him sometimes, often finding your mind drifting to him throughout the rest of the year.

But, you could never admit that out loud, especially not to him. You would never hear the end of it.

Your thoughts began to drift from Mingi as you pulled into the campsite. You noted a few familiar faces as you parked, your eyes landing on a tall man as he climbed out of his car. His hair was a different color for the fourth year in a row, but you could still recognize him from a mile away.

'Mingi'

You took in a deep breath as you refused to acknowledge the tightness filling your chest as your heart beat quickly.

Turning off your car you let out the deep breath, "Here we go."

Mingi's eyes scanned the area as he smiled at the other teachers and staff. The students would be arriving soon, but they weren't who he was looking for.

He started to frown as he saw no sight of you, fear creeping in that you wouldn't be here this year, but upon hearing another teacher call your name, his head snapped at the direction of the sound. His eyes finally landed on you as you smiled and waved to the girl.

Mingi scanned your figure as a smile spread across his face. Determination and confidence filled his chest as he clenched his fist around the strap of his bag.

As you spoke to the other teacher you looked around, your eyes eventually landing on Mingi. He held eye contact with you as his smile turned into a smirk. You let out a soft sigh as you looked away from him and left with the girl.

"This time." He muttered to himself, as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the cabins.

As the campers arrived and things started rolling over the next few days, you only thought about Mingi when he was around you. Which was only about a hundred times a day. He seemed to be seeking you out more often than he used to, which you found unusual and frustrating. Not just because he was annoying you purposefully every time, but because you seemed more nervous around him that years before.

Poking at the noodles on your plate, you felt your breath catch as a familiar scent filled your nose as someone sat beside you.

'He always wears the same scent.'

Feeling a shoulder press into yours you glanced to your left to see Mingi smiling pointedly at you.

"What?" You asked bluntly, making him chuckle.

"Just wondering how this years competition is gonna go."

You looked back at your food as you thought back on previous years.

The first year Mingi joined you two worked together to train the same group and won the end of summer competition. The next two years you were against each other, you won and then he won.

Mingi leaned a little closer, "Gonna try harder this time?"

You glared at him and he only smiled bigger. You knew he was just trying to rile you up to make you competitive.

You looked away from him with a soft scoff. "Why would I? You only won last year because the guest judges had crushes on you"

He opened his mouth in sarcastic offense before he smiled and leaned a little closer toward you, "Was that an insult or jealousy?"

You locked your eyes with his and he smirked. "I'm not jealous of you winning a swayed competition."

He leaned a little bit closer and you swear you saw his eyes flick to your lips, "I wasn't talking about the competition."

As you realize he was insinuating you were jealous because of the judges crushes, you felt your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, you ears caught onto the amused and whispered comments of a nearby table of students.

"I told you they were dating!"

"I don't think they are, they look like they hate each other!"

"No they are totally dating, look at how they are looking at each other."

Realizing just how close Mingi was to you, you swallowed before scoffing in reply to Mingi's comment as you leaned away from him.

"You wish." You muttered as you rose, throwing out your scraps and heading back to our cabin.

Mingi watched you leave with a soft smile as his heart pounded, the students comments replaying in his mind.

Your body was tired as the day came to an end, you always struggled getting used to this amount of work the first week of camp. You began packing away your supplies as you heard the door slide open. Looking up, you smiled as one of the younger girls hired for a training program approached you.

"Hey what's up?"

She scratched the back of her neck nervously, "Hey. I was just wondering if I could ask you something."

"Sure what is it?"

"Well... it's about Mingi."

You felt your chest clench as you stared at her for a second. Was she going to ask if you were dating him? They always ask that. She was obviously crushing on him, as many of the teachers and student's did. You weren't sure why it annoyed you so much. No, that was a lie, you did, but you refused to acknowledge the reason.

"Uhm...are you dating him?"

'Knew it.'

You cleared your throat as you stacked a couple chairs. "No, I'm not dating him. And I never have, if that was your next question."

"Oh, cool. Well...just in case, cause I feel like it might be obvious I sort of have a thing for him-" she giggled nervously and you forced a smile. "Do you uhm- have feelings for him then?"

You paused as you felt you breath catch. That was always the question that followed. And as much as you convinced yourself you answered truthfully each time, you knew deep down it was only ever a lie.

"No, I don't."

"Huh? Really?" She asked in surprise, "Why not?"

You let out a soft scoff, "He's not my type."

Another lie.

The girl thought silently to herself for a moment before nodding, "Okay, sorry to bother you!" She waved before leaving and you let out a sigh.

Mingi's chest clenched tightly as he furrowed his brow. He watched the girl leave as your words echoed in his mind. After a few more moments you walked out as well, not noticing him as you closed the door and began to leave.

"What is your type then?"

You jumped in surprise as your hands flew up to your chest, "Oh my God!" You let out a groan, "You scared me!"

He smiled in amusement at you as he pushed himself away from the wall and approached you.

You let out an exasperated breath as you realized what he had asked, "Eavesdropping? Really?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "What? I was just walking past and heard my name. I think I have the right to know who's talking about me."

You sighed again, "Fair enough, but that doesn't mean I have to answer your question."

Turning, you began walking away from him, aware that he was going to follow you.

Catching up to you he walked practically pressed up against you as he pestered you. "Come on, just a hint. What's your type?"

You rolled your eyes as you stopped, causing him to stagger away to stop himself from colliding with you.

"Not you. That's all you need to know, now stop following me." You warned as you headed towards the bathrooms.

Mingi put his hands in his pockets as he watched you leave with a soft smile. His heart was pounding as his chest seemed to ache. Did you really not like him? Was he really not your type?

Your eyes were shut as you danced to the music playing. The movements were as natural as breathing even though you hadn't danced ballet in quite a while. Various thoughts ran through your mind as you moved around the room unaware you had a one-man audience.

When the song came to an end your heart jolted as clapping echoed throughout the room. You looked towards the door to see Mingi leaning against the wall with a smile on his face as he let out a soft laugh at your startled reaction.

Rolling your eyes you walked over to your phone to stop the next song from playing. As you sat on the ground to switch your shoes, Mingi walked over, crouching down in front of you.

"I always forget you can dance like that."

Glancing up at him a jolt ran up your spine at the intense stare he was giving you. You couldn't quite place the emotion in his gaze but you knew it made you heart race.

Breaking the eye contact you seemed to get stuck in, you continued switching your shoes, "What, does it intimidate you?"

He grinned and let out a soft airy chuckle and you couldn't help but smile too, knowing ballet was not intimidating in the slightest to someone like Mingi.

As you stood, you missed the way Mingi's eyes followed your every move. His heart fluttered at the sight of your smile, something that was rarely aimed at him, much to his dismay.

As you grabbed your bag, Mingi spoke again, the tone of his voice catching you off guard.

"Do you really hate me?"

You halted as you looked down at him with bewilderment, "What?"

"I always thought we had this sort of love-hate relationship, but I've been wondering recently if the love is all on my side."

Mingi almost laughed as he watched your brain seem to shut off and reboot as you blinked a few times in confused silence.

Shaking your head softly you met his gaze again with a soft frown and Mingi felt his chest clench. "I don't hate you."

He raised his brow a bit in pleasant surprise.

"You're annoying, and a menace and you drive me crazy. But, I've never hated you."

Mingi stared at you with a blank stare for a moment before suddenly standing and stepping towards you. You froze as he slowly rose his hand and wiped a strand of hair from your forehead where it was stuck. The sudden realization that you were probably sweaty and gross from dancing hit you and you suddenly felt shy.

'Why do I care?'

As Mingi continued to stare at you in silence, you swallowed before stepping back. Mingi quickly reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you, fearing you were going to walk away from him before he could do what he came to.

You looked between his hand and face as you quirked your brow at him.

"Do you know why I keep coming back to this camp every year?"

You frowned at him before slowly shaking your head no.

"Because of you."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at his words. "What?"

"Because I want to see you." He swallowed nervously but continued, knowing this might be his only chance to have you alone like this. "You've never told me your number, or where you live, or how else to reach you. So I only get to see you here. So I come back."

Your heart was pounding heavy as you struggled to find you words before finally stuttered out. "That's a stupid reason."

He shook his head, "It's not, not to me."

"You want to tease and torment me that badly?"

He shook his head as he let out an exasperated sigh, "No, I just want to see you. And be around you. Do you really not get it?"

From the way you swallowed nervously and messed with the strap of your bag he knew you understood his words, but you didn't believe them. Did you think he was just messing with you? His chest clenched painfully as he took a small step closer to you.

"I like you. So much that every year I count the days till I can come back here and see you again."

You seemed to forget how to breath as you stared at him. His eyes burned into yours as he stared at you intensely.

"Don't you like me too?" His voice was soft, almost scared.

You hesitantly opened your mouth, uncertain of what to say as your thoughts and emotions that had been repressed all this time tried to escape, but the fear rejection and heartbreak tried to force them away.

Your eyes darted to the studio door as it slid open with a loud clang, revealing one of the other dance teachers. Mingi's face showed his clear disappointment and annoyance at the interruption, but the somewhat tipsy girl didn't notice as she grinned at the two of you.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere! All the instructors and staff are down at the lake why are you guys up here?"

'You guys' You rolled your eyes at the attempt at including you, when her eyes were strictly glued to Mingi.

As she approached, you saw the way she glanced between the two of you, her obvious crush and jealousy showing.

She grabbed Mingi's arm as she grinned at him, "It's no fun without you there."

You felt your chest clench as you cleared your throat, "I don't feel like drinking so I'm just gonna head to bed."

Your eyes locked with Mingi's as you began to leave. He was clearly going to try and follow you, but the girl tightened her grip, stumbling a little, clearly on purpose, as she started gigging.

As you made it out of the studio, you let out a shaky breath as Mingi's words repeated in your mind.

'Don't you like me too?'

As you stared up at your ceiling that night, his question repeating over and over in your mind, you let out a soft sigh. Finally giving in to the thought you had pushed away for years.

'Yes, I do.'

The next week seemed to pass by in a blur. You had gotten so busy with your group you hadn't seen Mingi as often. You feared seeing him around every corner. Afraid he might find you again and force you to reveal your true feelings, something you weren't sure you were ready for.

Though, at the same time, you felt panic creeping up on you at the realization that the camp was almost over. Then he would be gone again for a whole year.

Coming to a decision you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen as your students prepared for the final competition at the end of camp.

You smiled brightly at your group as they cheered happily after being announced the winners. Your eyes scanned the crowd of students before landing on Mingi. Your heart jolted and your breath caught. He was clapping with a genuine smile on his face as he stared at you.

A smile spread across your own face before you quickly looked away, turning your attention to the students, your heart hammering nervously from the brief moment.

Mingi's eyes had been glued to your every movement as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Students and teachers were rushing around as everyone boarded busses and cars to return home. He didn't care to say goodbye to anyone but you, but everyone and their mother's seemed to need to speak to him, something he had found amusing in previous years, but now it only frustrated him.

He desperately needed to see you before the end of the camp. He couldn't let another year pass without being around you, not again.

His anxiety grew as you disappeared from his sight, lost in the crowds around him. His eyes darted to every face he passed by, but you were gone.

"Mingi!"

He turned at the sound of his name, but felt disappointment rush over him when another teacher approached him.

"Hey, where's Y/n?"

"That's why I'm here, they left already." Mingi's face fell as his heart dropped, "They were running late for their flight, but, they told me to give you this."

Mingi took the note, quickly opening it. His eyes scanned over the city name and phone number listed on the paper and he smiled letting out a soft breath. He nodded to himself as his mind already began turning, determination stronger than before.

You seemed to be constantly on edge after you left the note for Mingi. You read the text one more time as you walked towards your dance studio.

'See you soon ;)'

You knew it was from Mingi, but hadn't replied. Nor had he sent another message.

A week had already passed since the camp ended, and you consistently stopped yourself from sending him a message asking what he meant. You told him the city where you lived, but why did the message make it seem like he was gonna show up? It's not like you gave him your home address.

Entering the studio you smiled and greeted the front desk clerk before entering the studio. Spotting one of your coworkers she grinned and ran up to you.

"Hey, have you heard about the new dance teacher they hired?"

You shook your head "I knew they were hiring but I didn't know they found someone."

She nodded her head fervently, "They did and he's so attractive!"

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh as you started setting your stuff down. "I want to ask him if he's single but that might be too forward right?"

You eyed her, "A bit."

She sighed, as she leaned against the wall. Hearing someone walk into the room your coworker gasped lightly before tapping your arm aggressively. You met her eyes as she motioned her eyes behind you.

'Must be the new guy'

Turning around, your eyes met with a pair of striking and familiar eyes, only a couple feet away from you. Mingi grinned knowingly at your shocked expression as he approached you.

You were stuck in stunned silence as Mingi let out a soft chuckle before taking another step closer and leaning in, "Miss me?"

Your coworker looked between the two of you, "You two know each other?"

Mingi nodded as he explained, your coworker nodding along in interest. Mingi's eyes never left your face, and you could hardly find the strength to breath as your thoughts raced.

'So, this is what he meant. But how did he find me? And why did he get a job here? He's not secretly some weird stalker serial killer right?'

As one of the lead dancers came in looking for Mingi, you made your escape to the locker room, aware he watched you leave. Disappointment was obvious on his face at missing the opportunity to talk to you properly.

You were on your toes the entire day, aware Mingi was in a nearby room as you wondered when you would see him next. You would have to talk to him. Before, you were too shocked to think properly, but now you needed to know what was going on with him.

When the day finally ended after seeming to drag on a lot longer than normal, you didn't see Mingi around the studio.

'Did he leave already?'

Frowning, you exited the studio, heading towards your car, slowing down as you saw Mingi leaning against the door.

As he spotted you he grinned, straightening up as you approached.

Before he could speak you broke in, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I had been looking for a new job anyways and after you left me that note I was surprised to learn we really didn't live that far away from each other. Twenty minutes to be exactly."

As shocked as you were to hear this, you continued your own line of questioning. "So you applied for a job here?"

He nodded in reply.

"How did you know I worked here?"

"One of the few things I knew about you was that you worked in a dance studio. So once I knew you lived here, I asked around."

You squinted at him and he furrowed his brow. "You do realize this is stalker-like behavior right?"

He let out a laugh and nodded, "Yeah I realized that too but..."

"But?"

"But, you didn't answer my question."

You furrowed your brow, "What question?"

Stepping closer to you, he leaned down, looking into your eyes, a habit he seemed to be developing recently. You breath caught as he scanned your face.

"If you like me too."

Remembering back at the camp in the studio room, you swallowed nervously as you stared silently at him.

A small smile played at his lips as he let out a soft breath. "So, I'll be hanging around until you tell me. " Standing back up to his full height, he reached up and ruffled your hair, "See ya."

As he walked away, he left you in stunned silence beside your car as your heart and mind raced.

'Is he really going to stay here until I answer him?'

Looking back, you saw him at his own car. He met your eyes and paused with a smile as he winked at you before getting into the car.

You swallowed again before quickly getting into your own car, breathing heavy as your mind raced with what you should do as you laid your head against the steering wheel in exhaustion.

The following week was a new form of torture you had not been expecting. Mingi spent every moment at work he could teasing and openly flirting with you. Clearly tired of holding back his affection and not caring who else knew.

You poked at your food during lunch as your friend drilled you for information on Mingi.

"So you've known each other for a few years?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Sort of, we only ever saw each other during the dance camp."

She hummed as he looked around, a smile forming on her face. "Well he's clearly obsessed with you. "

You scoffed softly, though your heart skipped a beat. "Don't be ridiculous."

She caught your eye before motioning her head behind you. Looking back curiously towards the table the other's were sitting at, your eyes locked with Mingi's as he had been staring at you.

His lip quirked up as you quickly looked away, your friends smile widening, "Do you still think I'm being ridiculous?"

You cleared your throat as you tried to steady your hammering heart, "Yes, now be quiet."

She chuckled as you messed anxiously with your food, now aware of his eyes on the back of your head.

By the end of the day, you had forgotten about lunch, and even Mingi. Up until you found him waiting for you at your car after work.

He had the same smile plastered on his face as you approached, but you saw the way his eyes scanned over you, an almost worried gaze on his face as your leg bent stiffly as you walked.

"What now?"

He chuckled, "I just wanted to see how you were, I heard you twisted your leg earlier. Does it hurt?"

So it was worry on his face. Your heart fluttered but you tried to ignore it.

You looked down at your leg as you kind of shook it around. "It's a bit stiff but fine, nothing serious."

He nodded his head as he let out a soft sigh of relief. "Good." He cleared his throat as he glanced around, "Wanna get dinner?"

You felt your chest tighten as your stomach flipped. "Dinner?"

He nodded and you realized just how hungry you were.

Thinking about how little food you had at home, and how much you dreaded cooking anything you nodded, "Sure."

As you saw the brief surprise cross Mingi's face you realized this might not be the best idea. As his face was quickly covered in a happy grin you held back, guilty at the thought of changing your mind now.

You stared into your drink as you played with the straw, too afraid to look up as you could feel Mingi's gaze burning into your skin.

Finally giving in and glancing up, you saw a soft sparkle behind his gaze at he looked at you, making your heart seem to flutter.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" You couldn't help but ask, mostly to break the growing tension.

He smiled softly, "Because I like you."

You swallowed hard, butterflies filling your stomach. You began fiddling with your hands nervously, something Mingi noticed immediately.

Giving into your curiosity you spoke softly, "Since when?"

He rose his brow, "Huh?"

"Since when have you liked me?"

He looked down at the table as he thought for a moment before looking back up with you with an almost shy smile. "Since the day we met."

You leaned forward in surprise, "What?" You glanced around, a bit embarrassed at the volume of your own voice. Lowering your tone you looked at him, "Four years ago?"

He chuckled, "Yeah. The first time we met you were bright and bubbly but fierce, and you challenged me on my first day. You told me I was replacing one of your past teaches so I had big shoes to fill." He smiled as he stared at you, "Ever since then, I was intrigued by you, and before I knew it, I was always thinking about you. And I guess I wanted you to notice me, and since you only ever acknowledged me when I was annoying..."

"You decided to make it your entire personality?"

He laughed as he nodded, embarrassed by his own behavior. You couldn't help but laugh along as you thought back on that first summer you met him. He always seemed really nice and caring, yet was always so different around you.

"I always wondered why you were like that around me and no one else."

"You noticed?"

"It was kind of obvious." You chuckled, "I just thought you didn't like me very much. And as the years passed I just figured you enjoyed annoying me for your own fun I guess."

He frowned as he let out a sigh and shook his head in annoyance at himself. "I'm sorry. When I finally realized I had been like that for too long, it was too late."

Mingi looked back up at you, and you seemed to get lost in each others eyes for a moment, the tension began to build before you broke eye contact and looked away. You heart was hammering heavily in your chest as your mind raced about the decision you needed to make.

As Mingi walked you back to your car, you looked over at him almost shyly, "Thanks for dinner. I'll buy next time." You hesitated at your own words as his brow rose before he grinned.

"Did you just ask me on a date?" He teased making you roll your eyes.

"Don't be cheeky."

He chuckled as you climbed into your car. He remained by your car as you started it, raising his brow in curiosity as you rolled down your window and looked up at him.

"The answer to your question is yes by the way."

He frowned in confusion as you smiled almost teasingly at him.

"I do like you."

His eyes shot open wider as realization formed on his face. Before he could reply you rolled up your window and pulled away, leaving him to watch after your car in stunned silence.

As your car disappeared, he started grinning to himself as he pumped his fists and jumped around in excitement and celebration at his requited feelings. Letting out a loud sigh of relief, he got into his car, cheeks aching from grinning as he thought about what to do now.

Your own smile tugged painfully at your face as you drove home. Your heart seemed to never slow down as the adrenaline of confessing your feelings remained throughout the night, eventually leaving you exhausted in bed as you slept restlessly, waiting for the next day to come.

Arriving at the studio earlier than normal since it was your turn to set up, you felt nervous in your own skin. Part of you wanted to avoid Mingi strictly out of shyness, while the rest of you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

You shook your head with a soft sigh as your own flip-flopping feelings. As you set up the studio, waiting for the other's to arrive, you wondered if he was feeling and thinking the same things. Would he be his normal self? More forward? Would he avoid you?

Your question was answered as a voice suddenly spoke right next to your ear, "Morning."

You jumped away out of surprise, seeing a grinning and chuckling Mingi beside you.

"Mingi!" You gasped out with a breathy chuckle.

The doors opened as a few of the others showed up with bright smiles and greetings. You and Mingi met eyes as he smiled knowingly at you.

Suddenly grabbing the equipment in your hands he smiled at you, "How's your leg?"

You nodded with a shy smile, "It's fine, no pain."

He nodded in relief as he helped you finish setting up, the tension between you more casual than anxious.

Mingi couldn't stop looking over at you, hoping to catch your eye each time. He could barely sleep last night, his thoughts full of you and where today might lead. You may have confessed you liked him too, but it was just that. Now he was determined to make you his.

As one of he studio managers called Mingi to help him, he looked over at you before stepping closer, leaning down so he was close to your ear.

"I'll see you later."

As quick as he was there, he was gone, leaving your cheeks burning as you realized he had pressed a swift kiss to your cheek before walking away. So fast you barely had time to process it. You looked around, seeing no one had seen anything, you let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering as you smiled giddily to yourself.

Mingi, being the new guy, ended up running errands all day for an upcoming charity event. You had barely seen him, even as the day came to an end.

As you did at the end of each work week, you spent a couple hours after work practicing alone once everyone else had gone home. As you moved to the music, your thoughts bounced from the event, to Mingi, to your work schedule, but mostly to Mingi though.

Eyes closed, you spun around, gasping as you collided with something. When your eyes shot open, you saw Mingi holding you against his chest, arms wrapped around you as he had caught you when you staggered away.

"Mingi." You muttered out in surprise.

He smiled softly as he looked at you, "Sorry, I got so caught up in watching you I didn't realize you were coming towards me." He smiled sheepishly and you giggled softly.

"It's okay."

His eyes trailed down your body and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

"Are you sure you should be dancing?"

You smiled, knowing he was worried about your leg.

"It's fine, I promise."

He pressed his lips together tightly but nodded. Realizing you were still pressed up against him, hands on his chest, you started to push yourself away, only for him to pull you back.

You questioned him with your eyes and he smiled softly as he slowly leaned his face closer to yours. You froze in anticipation, his eyes almost burning into yours.

"Are you going to avoid me?"

You furrowed your brow and shook your head, "Why would I?"

"It's become your motive every time we get closer."

Realizing this was true you looked down, gently squeezing the cloth of his shirt in your hands. He tightened his grip on your arms just enough to get you to look back into his eyes.

Bringing his hands from your arms to your face, he gently cupped your cheeks as he smiled at you.

Your breath caught as his eyes slowly wandered around your face, lingering on your lips before he met your eyes again.

"I've waited four years for you. I can wait as long as you need. But, to be honest, I don't want to,. So..."

Your voice came out as a whisper as our heart pounded in your ears. "So?"

"So be with me now."

You stared at him in silence for a moment, your eyes gazing into each others before you gently nodded your head.

A grin slowly spread across his face, causing you to smile in return.

He began caressing your cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned forward, closing the already narrow gap between you. His lips pressed softly against yous, motionless for a second before he leaned in more, gently deepening the kiss for a brief moment before pulling away.

You were stunned by the kiss, and Mingi gazed into your eyes, almost worried about how you would react. As you smiled shyly at him, his smile widened before he pulled your face close again.

He paused briefly just before your lips met, your eyes locked before you both leaned in, kissing each other. His hands caressed your cheeks before he moved them to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his body. As your lips melted together, you wrapped your arms around his neck allowing yourself to be lost in the kiss.

You weren't sure how long you had been kissing, but when you finally pulled away you were both out of breath. He pressed his forehead against yours as he gently swayed you back and forth.

"Does this mean we're officially together now?"

You chuckled softly as you nodded, "Yes."

He grinned as he leaned his head back almost dramatically. "Finally!"

You laughed as you gently smacked his chest. He pulled you closer and you laid your head against his chest. Thinking for a moment you chuckled.

Mingi looked down at you in curiosity, "What?"

"I wonder how everyone at the camp is gonna react next year."

He grinned. "I doubt anyone will be surprised."

You smiled, "I might become enemy number one to all of the other teachers."

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

"Promise?"

He nodded happily as he held you closer, resting his head against yours, "I promise."

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about the ending but I didn't have a plan for it lol so it is what it is.

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669, @tinyelfperson, @pinievsev, @teenyfinds

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#song mingi x reader #song mingi/reader #mingi x reader #mingi/reader #mingi imagine #song mingi imagine #dance teacher!mingi #dancer!mingi #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #song mingi fic #ateez fic #mingi fanfic #ateez fanfic #mingi x gn!reader #mingi oneshot #mingi one shot

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lidiasloca · 9 months

Text

delicately (cassian x reader)

summary: when cassian meets reader, he doesn't think past her privileged life. but what if there is more behind her appearance? what if, who she really is, is meant to meet with him on a cold night at the court of nightmares for a reason?

warnings: mentions of abuse.

(angst)

part one

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

You enter the revel. Music vivid and people joyous. Not exactly how you are feeling.

Your dress is thigh enough that you have trouble breathing, and your heels are making your only task to be not trip over in front of everyone. Besides, of course, your life-long task; don’t embarrass your father, and don’t put shame on your good name’.

“Walk straighter,” your father tells you, walking next to you. You obey, of course, and say nothing. Like always. “Keir is expecting me to agree to some plans of his. While I am with him, you will stay in our table. Don’t go anywhere else, and talk to only those worth our time. Understood?”

You nod.

…

You suppose a revel could be considered fun, depending on who you asked. The ones dancing, for instance, seem to know how a good time looks like. Feels like.

But as you are siting silently on your chair, with no one else around the table, you know you aren’t one of those people. You are just people watching; at least that’s how you have always felt.

You were watching as your father shouted at your mother. You were watching as he insulted you. You were watching as he decided who you’d eventually marry. You were watching as he gave you orders on how to not do anything he wouldn’t do.

You always just watched.

A loud laugh makes you snap back to the present. A very loud laugh, one that feels genuine. You turn your head to find the General of the Night Court. ‘A bastard-born’, your father had told you. ‘We want nothing to do with him,’ he had ordered.

But he had said nothing about staring. And he is… well, worth staring.

The General is still laughing at what a beautiful blond girl is saying. You recognize her to be Morrigan, Keir’s daughter. She is wearing a beautiful red dress that… shows. You hate thinking like that, judging her -or any female- for the size of their cleavage, but your father had told you… No.

You weren’t your father.

Sick of this whole place and your own mind, you stand up and start walking to the closest terrace. Remembering his orders, you can only pray your father will take longer with Keir wherever they are.

After a minute of seeking and finding the crystal door, you are finally greeted with the cold chill of the night. And the terrace is deserted, thankfully.

You go to the railing and rest your hands atop the steel, sighing. You feel more calmed now; you don’t mind the loud music, or the laughter, or the drunken shouting, but… but sometimes it feels a bit too much when you’re not part of any of it.

“Are you not cold?”

You jump at the voice, which is deep enough that it comes across as scary, at least if you’re backwards to it. You turn to it and find in front of you the General of the Night Court’s armies.

‘A bastard-born nobody. We want nothing to do with him’.

No. “Who are you?” you ask.

The male grins. “You don’t know who I am?” At the obvious cockiness in his words, you smirk shyly, moving your gaze to the floor.

“I - I do.” You looked up again, meeting his hazel eyes. “But I don’t know your name,” you replied, mustering your tone to be flat, neutral, despite not feeling like that at all.

“Ah.” And then silence.

“Are you not going to tell me your name?”

“I asked you a question first,” he smiles, finding your confusion amusing. When you keep silent, he says. “I asked if you were cold, y/n?”

Oh. “How do you know my name?”

He chuckled, the sound so beautiful, so real. “Are you going to keep asking me questions before answering mine?” he jokes, shaking his head. “Didn’t your oh so rich and powerful father taught you manners?”

Taught you manners? Your father?

It’s a joke, you know it, but still… You turn to the railing again, needing suddenly something to hold you in place. He probably thinks you’re stupid, but you need to calm down, steady yourself from the memories that are appearing violently and uninvited into your mind.

“No. I’m sorry,” he tells you nervously, walking to your side. “I - sorry. I was joking. I didn’t mean it as an insult. At all.”

“I know,” you make yourself say, because you don’t want him to feel guilty, misinterpreting the situation. You definitely wouldn’t care if he talked badly about your father. You would most definitely join him.

“Oh, then what is it?”

You close your eyes against the now too cold air caressing your face. Goosebumps raise on your arms. You are cold.

“I am cold,” you finally answer his previous question, and it’s obvious for the two of you that you’re ignoring his new question.

But he lets it go. “And I am Cassian.” You move your eyes to stare at him, at how the moonlight makes the planes of his face look even more beautiful than the light of the revel did. “And I know your name because you’re quite a persona around here. Your - your father is- well, you must know who he is,” he smiles.

Oh, you indeed know who he is. You and your mother know exactly who he is.

Cassian must have seen the sadness in your eyes at the mention of him because he dares moving his hand to grab your wrist delicately. You look down to where his hand is now caressing yours, then look up when he whispers, “What is it with your father?”

“Nothing.”

You watch him watch you, his eyes assessing you. You can’t bare the intimacy of it all, the way he is reading you.

So you pretend. “You are a general, right, Cassian?” you ask him, smiling faintly.

He isn’t fooled, you know that, but at least, he plays along and returns your smile, this one less genuine. “A general?” he echoes. “Well, I’m the general and commander of the Night Court's armies, more precisely.”

You let out a laugh. Gods, he is a bit arrogant. You are to tell him so, but when you look up, your breath gets caught at the way his eyes are regarding you, as if in awe. At you?

“Are you blushing?” he teases. A bit, had you said? No, he is arrogant.

“I’m not.”

He raises one eyebrow, questioning. You turn your head to the night sky, denying him the sight of your reddened cheeks.

He chuckles, his hand moving from where he was holding your wrist up to your elbow. The caress he does across your arm makes you thank the cold for excusing the goosebumps.

“Then let me see, huh?” He pulls your arm carefully, lifting his other hand to place it on your chin. You chuckle as you resist from turning your face to him.

He laughs, taking a step to you to have the upper hand; now towering over you, Cassian turns your face as easy as breathing.

He hums with exaggerated satisfaction, then says, “liar.”

You don’t reply. Not when you’re so busy looking into his eyes, now very close to yours.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, touching the red there. “Is the cold the reason why you’re blushing?” he whispers to you. No need to raise his voice when you two are so close.

His eyes dart across every part of your face frantically, looking for your answer.

But your answer comes in form of a smile and the shake of your head.

He returns your smile. “Y/n?”

“Cassian?” you murmur.

He blinks before saying softly, “Would you-"

“Y/N!”

Father.

You quickly detach yourself from Cassian’s hold, turning to your clearly mad father, who is walking, almost running, to you.

At the sight, Cassian takes your hand again, protecting you, ready to strike if needed.

“Get away from her, you Illyrian brute!” your father shouts. You move your gaze to the general, and it breaks your heart the way he ducks his head slightly, in his eyes the weight of your father’s words.

“Father!” you bark.

But he ignores you, his eyes glaring to where Cassian hands hold yours tightly. “Stop touching her! Now!”

Cassian turns to you, silently asking. You don’t want him to let go of your hand. Don’t want him to go. But your father… is better not to get him too mad. And he’s already bursting with rage.

And thinking about the consequences of this…

“Let go,” you manage to mumble weakly. And you see it in his face; you’ve hurt him. He thinks you don’t want your father to see you with him. You see it.

And when he lets go of your hand, you feel… something. Something stronger and more powerful than anything you've ever felt.

There’s a raw need to take his hand again, to follow the string between yours and his, that is getting longer with every step he takes away from you.

The string between you. The string.

Your… mate.

“Cassian” you whisper.

“Shut up!” Your father goes to grab your arm, pulling you to him. “We’re going home! Now!”

But you don’t stop. “Cassian!”

With tears in your eyes, you see him keep walking, only turning his head enough for you to make out his face profile in the obscurity, then he becomes just a silhouette in the night.

And you can do nothing as he walks away, disappearing into the dark.

You just watch.

(next part)

-Characters by Saraah J. Maas

A bit of cliché(ness) won’t hurt anybody :)). my head hurts like really bad after spending about 4 hours writing. absolutley worth it, though; i really like how this turned out. hope you liked it aswell. next thing i'll be writing will be for more than this series. k, that's it. thank you and bye bye :)).

#cassian x reader #cassian angst #cassian #cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian fic #acotar fic #cassian fanfic

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liberifatalis · 9 months

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I don’t know how long this was in my inbox for, I’m assuming it’s been here for like 3 years so I’m SO sorry anon lol. I’ve been going through writers block for like years at this point and I still struggle with it.

BUT recently I’ve gotten back intowriting kinda, and since I’ve been writing a Sephiroth fic I thought I’d finally start writing headcanons again. The FF7 writing community outside of in-game ships is dry as fuck right now, especially the headcanon/reader-insert side of fandom, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this if you’re still out there anon! I apologise again TTTT

This is a mix of SFW and NSFW headcanons as it’s been a while since I’ve posted any headcanons, and my view on Sephiroth has sort of changed since the last time I posted headcanons for him, so it might be different to my previous interpretations. But I have included more spicy headcanons, so hopefully you'll enjoy!

I would like to add that while these are my own interpretations of Sephiroth, I have also been influenced by many other interpretations/headcanons of him as well! Most of these aren’t adding anything original at all, and I’d say a lot of blogs on here say about the same kind of thing in regards to him. So if anyone disagrees, that’s okay! This is all interpretation and I’m just mainly having fun.

SFW and non-SFW below All headcanons are of CrisisCore!Sephiroth

DISCLAIMER: long post below, lots of text.

SFW

I know he’s like…technically half alien, and that’s a big reason as to why he’s always felt and kind of behaved differently, but to me, he’s very very neurodivergent coded. I don’t want to use a specific label, but he’s absolutely neurodivergent to me. He’s always felt like an outcast, he stands out, he holds himself differently, he’s aloof, stoic, doesn’t really know how to say things without coming off as intense and kinda intimidating. He barely socialises with anyone other than his friends because he doesn’t really know how to. He never seeks out friendship with anyone, and he became friends with Genesis and Angeal originally because of proximity. I’m not saying the friendship wasn’t genuine, it was and he cared for them, but he’ll never be the first to initiate a friendship or anything like that – the fact that Genesis and Angeal were in SOLDIER, therefore in proximity to Sephiroth, is what sparked the friendship. He would have never been like “hey bro, let’s be buddies”. It was more like, he had to see these people regularly, so he had no choice but to socialise with them, and then he ended up finding out that they weren’t too bad and he enjoyed their company, and friendship and a deeper bond formed after that.

He struggles to relate to people, but grows very attached to people he can relate to. Whether that’s being an orphan, being an outcast, shared hobbies, ANYTHING. If he can find anything to relate to someone, something you can share, it sparks his interest (platonically) and will make him feel slightlyyyy more at ease around you and want to get to know you more.

A lot of people headcanon him with anxiety or PTSD, and I completely agree. He’s very neurotic. But I think that’s quite obvious if you consider his past and how he was raised. No one could come out of that completely mentally healthy and sane. He’s prone to insomnia, night terrors, panic attacks, but it’s never shown to anyone but him. In canon, we can see that he’s almost always composed and professional, and he is constantly putting in effort to maintain that demeanor.

Has no identity outside of SOLDIER/Shinra. Him being neurodivergent also makes him struggle a lot more with this, so he’s kind of internalised being a SOLDIER and it completely defines him. Poor boy is lost.

He likes people (platonically and/or romantically) that can “keep up with him.” Zack, Genesis and Angeal were his only friends, and it makes sense. They can, at least somewhat, keep up with him. He likes a slight challenge (physically and mentally), someone that can keep his brain moving. I think he’d be amused by someone who was a bit hot-headed or blunt, as well.

Very dry sense of humour, as we see in canon. A lot of the time people can’t tell he’s joking unless they’re close with him.

Very very intelligent and academic. Loves to read. Lil nerd. Will read encyclopedias, dictionaries, thesauruses, history books, articles, textbooks, science books, anything non-fiction. Not only does it calm his brain and his neuroticism, but he is genuinely interested in anything where he can gain knowledge. Knowledge is power, and he needs to feel powerful. He is a fast reader too, able to finish an average 500 page book in under 6 hours.

Only listens to classical music. Literally does not understand anything else. There can’t be any vocals, just instruments.

Horrible at expressing himself honestly and genuinely, and spontaneously. Everything is carefully thought out and spoken bluntly, as if he’s reading from a textbook. He will literally stand there silently, eyes narrowed in deep thought, for a minute if he needs that time to think of a reply, because he’s not one to fumble over words. If he’s with someone (a friend or partner) who will give him the space and patience to speak openly and awkwardly, it will still take him time to be completely vulnerable. A partner who is open and vulnerable and doesn’t shy away from being a little awkward with their feelings will involuntarily demonstrate vulnerability for him, and give him an opportunity to try it for himself, and he’ll kind of learn from them.

^^^ Adding on to this point, there are so many scenes in my rough drafts of Flood & Flame where Sephiroth and reader are literally standing there staring at each other like this gif, and mulling over what they should say LMAO. A lot of these scenes made the cut, too. Just two neurodivergent folk falling in love, nothing else to see here!

Takes ages for him to get comfortable with someone and trust them. The process is easier if, as mentioned before, he can relate to you in any way, if you’re open with him first, or if you’re in proximity. Eg, if you work in Shinra or SOLDIER, you mention your mum died, you say you like swords, you mention you like combat, etc etc. It can be something so small, but because he’s neurodivergent and has felt alone his whole life, he’ll latch on to it and that will be the starting point of the friendship/relationship developing. He needs an opportunity to get closer to you, or else it will be difficult and near impossible.

He needs to feel in control or else he’ll spiral. I don’t mean in a toxic way, as in “you’re my friend/partner so you can never look at anyone and can’t have friends and blah blah blah”, I mean it as in he needs to constantly upkeep his professional demeanour and look like he has his shit together, even if he hasn’t slept for two days and has barely eaten and has been having panic attacks. He will slip, sometimes, maybe being a bit more snarky or moody than usual, or saying/revealing something he didn’t mean to, but ultimately he has control over every facet of his being. This makes him a very intentional person, too. He means everything he says, and sticks to his word.

He loves routine, it keeps him grounded. But this means that he dislikes change and has a hard time dealing with it. It can be as little as Shinra changing the ingredients to his shampoo and conditioner, or to what happened to Genesis and Angeal in Crisis Core – change on any scale is overwhelming to Sephiroth.

Definitely not a love at first sight kind of guy. Even if you’re like, strikingly beautiful, everyone just is when he first meets them. You’re just a person (and this isn’t in a condescending way lol) like everyone else. He could only develop romantic feelings and love for someone after getting to know them. Then he starts to see you as beautiful and so much more. It’s really sweet.

If he ever developed feelings for anyone, he wouldn’t even know he was developing feelings for a good chunk of it lol. He’d think he was just fascinated by them. Eventually he’d realise, oh shit, do I…love this person? He’d start catching on once he starts thinking of them more often and seeking out their company, and eventually when he had the impulsive urge to kiss them, he’d realise he was in too deep.

Touch starved and also kind of touch repulsed. He’s a contradiction sometimes, and it confuses him. He’s more touch starved than he is touch repulsed, but when you haven’t had ANY physical affection all your life, and all you know is war and death and being tested on, you of course are going to go into a bit of a shock if anyone touches you. He’s used to combat, to having his guard up and being skeptical. So if you happen to brush your shoulder accidentally against his, or your hand accidentally touches his, it sends a wave of electricity throughout his entire body, almost burning him on the inside. He wants to reach out, but he stops himself. Unsure why he wants to, why he likes it, and Sephiroth not knowing something means not having the upper hand and not having control, and that makes him disgusted and disappointed in himself.

Physical affection (platonic, romantic, sexual) will take time. He needs to let his guard down to accept it and embrace it. If he trusts you, it will be easier, but still tedious. Once he gets there, even just by a little bit, you’ll see him start to initiate affection, and then once he is fully comfortable being with you, he is obsessed with it. He is always wanting to be in your presence, just like a cat. Even if you’re not doing anything, just being able to see you and be near you is enough and what he needs; this is partly to do with wanting to know you’re safe and worrying that something is going to happen, that something is going to change and he’ll lose everything. Like I said, he needs to be in control, and if he’s around, he can stop something from going wrong.

He comes to love physical affection, it is so so calming to him and comforting. Loves to hold you and smother you. Loves to smell your hair or the soap you used in the shower, he just loves the presence and feeling of you. Eventually he is very clingy and touchy with physical affection, and it’s one way he shows his complete love and devotion. Is a big fan of cuddling (he never calls it that though) and holding your hands–kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand, lightly caressing and dragging his fingers over all the lines and landscape of your hands. Also really loves resting his forehead against yours.

Due to his upbringing and the way he is, love is all-consuming for him. He loves to the point of obsession and even possibly madness. It takes over him. He would happily let it consume him like a wildfire. He would kill for it. I don’t mean this is an inherently toxic way either, BUT this can become very destructive, and if he happens to be so very unlucky and ends up with a person who doesn’t have good intentions, then it could definitely be a bad thing and end up destructive. Now, in the fanfic/fiction side of things, this is obviously very compelling and fascinating to read, and a love like what I described is quite romantic if it’s in a genuine, passionate and non-toxic way. But I just wanted to add that disclaimer that it can become quite the opposite of romantic and be destructive if it’s not a relationship that is trying to be healthy and trying to grow. I don’t mean it in the way that Sephiroth will become abusive, I just mean that he is obsessive naturally, and that can turn out to be a positive or a negative, depending on the situation. He can be a flame that is burnt out, or a flame that burns others.

MORE SFW + non-SFW

He’s a virgin. I said this before and I stand by it. Has never kissed anyone, has never been touched–the man hasn’t even been hugged, damn it!

I do think, realistically, if I wanted to be 100000% accurate, I’d consider him asexual and aromantic, especially after Crisis Core timeline, and if you wanted to see him as some narcissistic, entitled, eldritch-horror sort of villain, which he very much is tbh. BUT he is half-human (to me), and I don’t think it’s far-fetched at all to believe he has urges like everyone else. So, for me, I see it the same way as I do with how he’d fall in love with someone. I don’t think he could ever be sexually/physically attracted to someone unless he was close with them and trusted them. Once he develops feelings for you, then he’d start to immediately be sexually attracted to you. Before all that, you were just another person, you just are–your body is a body, it is functioning, it just is. But then, when he has feelings for you (and as I mentioned before, he doesn’t even understand until much later that he has feelings for you), suddenly your body…it takes his breath away. Your shoulders. Your chest. Your everything; it paralyses him, almost. You are a walking goddess/god to him, so beautiful and bright he is transfixed and can’t look anywhere but at you. Your face looks like it was sculpted by an artist that was gifted with magic from the Cetra. A rare beauty, one that he cannot put into words as it is a beauty so special and intricate that no human words can do any justice. When you look up at him, smile at him, he loses sense of time and place, nothing else exists outside of the small moment you are sharing, and he only sees you. The man is a poet at heart.

Since he is a virgin, and is so damn enthralled by you, he doesn’t really know how to act lol. He looks confident and like he’s in control, but he’s not, especially the first time you do anything. The first time you kiss, you’ll have to lean in first, or give him a sign you’re wanting him to kiss you. Honestly, you’ll probably have to tell him it’s okay to kiss you. It’s just a soft, chaste kiss at first. He’s never done this, remember. But like everything, he’s highly skilled and intelligent, and kissing is natural, so once he’s confident again it doesn’t take him long to get the hang of things.

He has many kinds of kisses. Soft ones that last long without breaking away, reminders that he’s there and he isn’t going anywhere. Other kisses that are quick, multiple long pecks, that are to tell you you’re beautiful and he’s thinking of you and he’s grateful. Then there are the passionate ones, the ones where he throws in every desire and intense feeling he can’t ever comprehend or describe, where he’s losing himself in you–kissing you as if it’s all he knows, changing the rhythm and speed because he’s in the moment. It’s as if he can’t get any closer to you/can’t get enough. Sephiroth’s passionate kisses are exactly how he is–intense, skillful, intentional, and overwhelming. He kisses with the same skill and intent he uses to wield Masamune.

Sexually repressed boy. Sex is extremely vulnerable, and he doesn’t understand or know how to express his sexuality. At first he’s afraid he’s going to hurt you.

The first time he has sex, he is in awe and is so curious. He focuses more on you, ignoring himself, wanting to know every contour of your body. His hands are all over, eyes focused on you, trying to gauge every reaction so he can store it in his memory. He always cares more about your pleasure than his own, and he is genuinely turned on when you are. He is slow and gentle, taking his time, and he needs your instructions to figure out what to do.

Once he is familiar with your body, and his own, he’s literally insatiable. He needs you, every day. And since he’s SOLDIER and not completely human, the man has stamina. Jesus christ. He could go for multiple rounds and he’s good to go even after he came. He knows he’s built differently though, like a fucking tank, and unless you’re into overstimulation, he’s perfectly happy with whatever you want.

I think a relationship with Sephiroth, that eventually includes sex, will include a lot of exploration for you both. But especially with Sephiroth. He’s never been this vulnerable and open before, never really understood his sexuality and urges and was kind of disgusted in them. But I think he’d discover a lot about himself, and it surprises him just how much desire he really has.

Sex with Sephiroth is not just fucking. It can’t be. He couldn’t have sex with someone he didn’t trust and have strong feelings for. Sex is an act of love, an act of devotion and adoration, an opportunity to tell you without words just how much he’d do for you and how deeply he loves you. Just like when he kisses you, it’s like he can’t get close enough, and even though you’re pressed against each other he still needs to be closer.

He really loves the feeling of your bare chest against his. It almost makes him primal.

I think he’d be really into edging, and he’d have a praise kink. He’d want to be worshiped but would also be worshiping you. It would be two people literally feeding each other’s egos lmao. I also think, considering how much control and power he does truly have, he’d also be happy to relinquish it from time to time, and enjoy a partner who’s a bit domineering and bossy, and one that takes control. So if you want to push him down on the bed, ravish him and boss him around, and ride him till the sun sets, he’ll be more than delighted.

Loves giving head. Yes, everyone likes receiving it, but when he gives head, it’s like he’ll never be able to do it again. He goes down on you as if it’s his last day on the planet. Absolutely devours you like Shinra has ordered him to. His tongue and jaw never get tired, by the way.

Not very loud but he does get more vocal the more you have sex. Grunts a lot and has a very deep, guttural moan.

He’s very attuned to the senses. Sound, smell, and touch turn him on so much, and have a significant effect on him. The sound of your voice can send him into a frenzied state, and even if it’s the middle of the day and he happens to smell your perfume or scent on his sheets or his clothes, he starts to go crazy.

More often than not he has to tie up his hair every time you have sex or he goes down on you. It always gets in the way, and you do NOT want to find a long strand of his hair in between anywhere.

I can’t decide on whether he has super sperm due to Jenova’s genes or if he’s infertile. Like it’s either one or the other to me and I feel like both make sense, but still can’t quite decide on one. He’d either be the type to have sperm so strong that even birth control couldn’t stop them, or he’d be infertile and no scientific method whatsoever could help. Who knows honestly.

#asks #anonymous #sephiroth #headcanons #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ffvii #mine

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beetlejuicyy · 18 days

Text

Corruption (A Blessing for a Curse User) | Geto Suguru x Reader

Summary: Geto Suguru is your last hope when you start seeing curses. But his reason for taking you in is more perverted than he lets you see. Set sometime during those ten years before jjk0

Warnings: manipulation, smut with plot, overstimulation, oral (f! receiving)

Word count: 5,834

Read on AO3

Author's note: i couldn't stop thinking that geto would have canonically used pussy therapy to cope so i had to come up with a plot for it

Masterlist

Your steps halted after reaching the top of the stairs. So many times you wanted to come to the temple, ask for help, thinking, knowing that you had nowhere else to turn to. But you always hesitated, anxiety and shame taking over your mind. But fear prevailed, at last. You went to therapists, they told you it was stress, unresolved childhood trauma. You've never heard of people seeing monsters at lunch time because they had a narcissistic mother. They were everywhere. And they were looking at you, their disgusting sounds echoing in your ears even after running away. You haven't had a good night's sleep in a couple of months. The only rest you had was always in the presence of someone else, scared that the monsters might come for you. What were they? What did they want from you?

You had reached your limit last night. You went out with some friends, thinking a large company would help. But it was worse. So many, so different, so disgusting. Those monsters were everywhere, on people's shoulders, hiding behind the corner of a building, on the counter at the grocery store. You ran home, away from the crowded neighbourhood, took a cold shower and decided you couldn't delay it anymore. Otherwise you would go completely insane.

You had to see Geto Suguru.

It was right before sunrise, when the darkness of the night was melting into brighter shades of blue, the fresh air of morning filling your lungs, encouraging you to move forward. You doubted anyone was there so early in the morning. You were determined to wait, in any case. You wrapped your fingers around the cold golden surface of the handle, hitting it lightly against the tall door. Behind, the tip of the sun was slowly creeping up, engulfing the world in a warm orange light.

"Good morning, miss early bird." You heard a gleeful voice.

Turning back, you noticed a tall, long haired man dressed in the traditional monk attire. His lips were curled up in a smile, although it lacked any warmth.

"I-I'm sorry to bother." You quickly apologized, trying to control your stuttering voice. "I-I know it's early but... uhm I am here for... I have a problem... I mean I want to talk to-" Maybe the sleepless nights were taking their toll on your concentration.

"I am Geto Suguru." The man said, his hands hidden away under the flowing sleeves of his kesa. "Come inside, I believe it is me you're looking for."

You nodded, following him inside. All the stories you heard from people who seeked out Geto's help were similar. He was kind and jovial, with a well developed, and borderline offensive, sense of humour for a monk. He helped everyone. But there was something off about him, you heard that often. Contrary to his gentle smile, people felt in danger in his presence, some describing it as a sensation of imminent death. You were feeling all of those things right now, as you walked one step behind him. Geto looked like he was coming from somewhere, not that he had just woken up to open the temple. You walked into an empty room, the only noticeable decoration being the three scrolls hanging on the wall.

Death to the Fool

Punishment to the Weak

Love to the Strong

Your steps froze in the middle of the room while Geto walked over, sitting down on the floor with the scrolls framing his head as he leaned his head to rest on his palm. The word weak blinded you for a moment and you couldn't concentrate on anything else but the thought that you were indeed weak. A fool? You weren't quite sure. Strong? Clearly not. You fitted perfectly into the weak category. You wondered if these were the principles of the man in front of you, a drop of sweat falling along your neck. You've never heard of these words used for any other temple. But you weren't the religious type anyway.

"Miss early bird?" You heard Geto's voice get louder and you realized you must have not heard him calling you before. You blinked, confused, introducing yourself.

"I think I'm going crazy." was the first thing you blurted out after your name. You didn't have the time to prepare a speech or rehearse anything. You let out whatever you felt first and Geto laughed, a mocking but harmless laugh that you couldn't blame. "I started seeing these weird monsters. Everywhere. Next to people. On the street. Some are even talking to me." Geto's attitude changed, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know how to get rid of them. Nobody else sees them. I don't even know if they are real."

"When did you start seeing these monsters?" He asked, his eyes paying more attention to your form now. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but he could sense your cursed energy.

"A few months ago. Around the time I moved to the city. I'm from a small mountain village." You looked at Geto, your only hope, as he pondered on your fate. His silence made you more nervous with every passing second. More desperate. You didn't think you could bear to walk out on your own and see those monsters again. You would rather die.

Death to the Fool

Were you a fool?

"I want to be strong!" You yelled out as tears filled your eyes. "Please, please, please I don't ever want to see those things ever again!" You begged, falling on your knees. You were definitely weak. You sobbed in silence, not even noticing when Geto sat up and walked over to you. Your break down helped him make a decision it seemed. He crouched down in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face with his slender fingers.

"Miss early bird." He said as he wiped your tears away. You wanted to correct him, remind him that you had introduced yourself already, but his soft voice left you speechless. A softness, different from the previously dissimulated one, coated his words like a sweet ointment on your open wounds. "Do you know where these monsters come from?" You looked at him, eyes empty and confused, shaking your head. "They come from filthy monkeys." You frowned. Was he making fun of your suffering? "If you get rid of the cause, the effect would naturally disappear, don't you think?"

"Get rid of monkeys?" You asked, aware of the fact that, if he really was making fun of you, it was already unavoidable.

"A figure of speech." He threw his hands in the air, in a helpless gesture. "The things you're seeing are curses, miss early bird. And they are born out of humans that cannot control cursed energy." You would have snapped for sure at his reluctance to refer to you by name if his following words didn't make your eyes open wide in shock, unable to register the information you just received.

"So... I'm not going crazy?" You whispered, almost scared to say it out loud.

"You said you don't want to see curses again." His voice changed to a serious tone by the time your tears ran dry. "The only solution is getting rid of their cause. Monkeys." He spat out the last word with such spite that it had you jolt back in surprise.

"But I'm a human too..." You mumbled, finding this small error of logic in his story fatal.

"No, no." He waved a long, slim finger in front of your face like a toddler. "You have cursed energy. I can help you control it."

He sat up, gathering the the folds of his traditional robe. You looked up at him, one of his arms extended towards you, his palm just above your head.

"Do you want to help me kill all the monkeys, miss early bird?"

Out of all the people in Geto's inner circle, you clearly stood out as the weakest, dumbest and most useless. At least this is how you felt. His found family was, if you had to pick one word, peculiar. But even more peculiar than that was your very presence amongst them. You didn't have any basics, didn't even know this world existed until you begged Geto for help. He must run out of patience at some point, you thought. But everyday he found even the smallest moments to give you some insight or reevaluate your progress so far.

Geto Suguru was a proud man. After all, he was leading a cult. Your desperation hit a very sensitive spot inside him that he wasn't even aware existed. Something about your crying face, so pretty despite your agony, gave him the satisfaction of being your saviour. The feeling caught him by surprise as well. Usually, people begging him for help disgusted him. However, he took a lot of pleasure out of teaching you everything, starting with the most obvious things. Your eyes fixed on him, taking in his every word, so well behaved, so eager to make him proud.

It was a completely different feeling from taking care of Nanako and Mimiko. His care for them came from a genuine concern, an honest wish to defend the people like him, wronged by the unfair world. With you, his protection and guidance came from a more perverted part of his soul. A part that he ignored for long, uninterested in trivial matters like this.

He enjoyed having all the answers for your questions. He enjoyed solving your problems, being the person you depended on. He was teaching you how to be strong, yes, but he also enjoyed knowing he would always be above you, no matter what. Something about your lack of pride, your straightforward questions, your awe in response to his knowledge and strenght, everything about you rubbed him the right way.

"Tell me again about your village, miss early bird." Three months later and he still insisted on not using your name. You were convinced he had to know it, he simply found it amusing to use this silly nickname. It didn't bother you anymore.

"It's very peaceful." You said as you poured Geto some tea. After you found out about his unpleasant technique, you made it your daily task to offer him some consolation in order to make up for the nauseating taste of curses he absorbed. "People are very close to nature, it brings a lot of peace to the soul." The tea you were preparing for him had calming properties, besides the floral mild taste. "There are no natural calamities and no thieves. People learned to take what they need from nature and share it with the community. The wi-fi signal is shitty, though." You joked and he smiled before taking a sip.

You found yourself fall for that smile. It was quite inevitable, if you really put some thought into it. He was so kind, so gentle, so generous, so patient with you. Not to mention his handsome face. Soon, you started wishing you could see more of what was hiding under his attire. You quickly learned how to distinguish between the subtle undertones of his smile. Maybe you were delusional, but you never saw him smile to other people like he smiled for you.

"Sounds like a nice place." That's what he would always say. You guessed the idea of your boring home village was some kind if utopia for him. No wonder you never saw curses before. They didn't exist there.

"Why did you leave?" It was the first time he asked. He was usually more interested in the way the community worked, how people avoided conflicts, how secluded the place was or how many modern things were absent there.

"I had no future there." He nodded, understading your perfectly valid point.

"Would you go back?" He asked, his eyes already searching the answer in your wavering gaze.

"Only to visit." You answered. He already guessed that from the sad look on your face as you remembered about your home.

"Make sure you take me too some time."

You gradually grew closer to everyone else. The dedication of Geto's followers was quite impressive and it only made you want to compete even more fervently for his favours. You quickly realized that the basic martial arts you learned as a kid held more importance than you initially thought. Sometimes Geto would challenge you, only to have you immobilized humiliatingly fast. But thirty seconds turned to one full minute, then two, then five. The more you trained your body, the longer you were able to face him. And the longer you lasted, the more satisfying became the moment when he had both your wrists behind your back in a tight grip, his other hand in your hair while his weight pressed your body firmly on the ground. You've never noticed him paying time and energy with anyone's training, let alone enjoy defeating them as much.

"Gotcha, miss early bird." He would whisper in your ear and you would unsuccessfully try to resist, to break free of his grip, which only made him laugh and hold you tighter. "You'd be dead by now."

When he would finally move away, you would find yourself wishing he remained longer, althought the strain in your shoulders and the pressure of his weight were painful.

"Ten minutes, that's a new record." Geto would praise you when checking the timer. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when he slipped the robe off his shoulders, groaning in the scorching sun of noon. "You've got me sweating, good job."

You were still laying on the ground, rolled on your back, watching his tall figure tower over you. The sun was behind him, like a halo around his head crowned with messy raven hair that fell down to his waist. You couldn't see his face clearly, the light behind him too strong, blinding you. But what you could see was the shape of his body, the round and sharp turns that shaped the contour of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, his fit arms, his slim waist and muscular abdomen right above the band of his baloon pants. In that moment, he looked otherwordly to you. A light in your brain was switched on and you completely understood why people gathered around him, why they pledged allegiance to his cause, why he was worthy of worship. You were left speechless, on the ground, at his feet. He had all the rights to step over you, punish you. Compared to him, you would always be weak, insignificant.

Geto noticed your awe. It was only the two of you, no one else in sight. He pretended not to, but the corner of his mouth was curled in a patronizing grin. All the light of day was reflected on your body, sweaty and gasping for air after only ten minutes of facing him. How pathetic. And yet, your weakness didn't trigger repugnance or malice. Your helpless attempts to fight back, fully aware that it was futile, delighted him. Especially now, when your eyes sparkled in the sun, pupils dilated in veneration, your presence was so unbearably arousing to the point that all the blood seemed to flow into his cock.

"I looked into your fairy tale village." Geto finally said. You would have never stood up from the ground, willing to witness his greatness for the rest of your life. "There's a very high chance you have inherited a special cursed technique." You blinked several times, like trying to get rid of a haze covering your eyes. You sat up, your previously high ponytail only a tangled mess now.

"I don't understand." How could you be so shamelessly blunt? If he were in your shoes, Geto would be embarrassed to admit his lack of knowledge so easily. But in front of him, you bluntly and carelessly showed your most innocent and pure self, like a clueless lamb unaware of the coming slaughter.

"Remote villages are common but yours seemes to have the best of both worlds. No greed, no crime, no hatred yet it's fairly modern and economically thriving."

As the words left his lips he realized that maybe this was the very reason you trusted him so easily, laid all your flaws in front of him so he could pick and choose which way to build you up. You hardly ever went through hardships in life. You learned to trust the people around you. Consequently, seeing curses for the first time was probably the worst thing that had happened to you. You were so untained by the unfair world. So untouched. So easily breakable. You were a blank canvas of innocence with plently of space for him to paint any sinful whim residing in his soul.

"Turns out you're a descendant of an old clan of sorcerers who abandoned the old ways of jujutsu a few hundred years ago. Most were exterminated, the surviving never found."

You parted your lips in an attempt to protest but not sound came out of your mouth. Insead, an astonished expression fell over your face, as you watched Geto sit back down on the ground, a couple of steps away from you.

"You've never seen curses because jujutsu sorcerers don't produce curses. And your tiny mountain village was made up of exclusively descendants of this clan. It may be dormant, but your legacy is still there."

Geto's dark eyes shimmered with a violet shade in the sun, contrasting with his long dark locks that fell over his shoulders, absorbing all the light.

"Isn't it... the world you want to create?" You asked unsure, feeling like he was a teacher testing you. One wrong answer and you could fail the class.

"A scaled-down version, yes." He agreed.

Your eyes uncontrollably fell down his body, watching how his chest softly rose and fell as he breathed, how toned his arms were, how inviting his posture was. You felt a primal urge to crawl up to him, touch him, provoke him. And you did. Gathering your remaining strength, you closed the distance between your bodies. He stood there, unmoved, his eyes looking down at your smaller body, like a hunter watching his prey. Except that his prey was walking right into his jaws, so close. Now, the words death to the fool made perfect sense. A faint breeze of air brushed over both of you, so weak that only the ends of his hair fluttered in the air, grazing against your skin.

"Geto-sama." You said, closer to a whisper, afraid that the wind might carry your words for others to hear. "I believe I was born to serve you."

The stronger you became, the closer you got to Geto. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Needless to say, the toll his cursed technique was taking on his body and, more importantly, on his mind was painful to witness. There were times when he would keep the distance, isolating himself so his vulnerable side would remain unknown. A couple of days later he would come back to his usual self, as if nothing happened. Everyone was used to this rare occurence, respecting his space and his choices. After all, who were they to question master Geto's actions? But it always bothered you.

Whenever the sickening taste of curses would become overwhelming and his entire soul would feel like an abandoned landfill, Geto would try to find comfort and pleasure in distractions that could help him cope, keep him one step away from the edge until he would rebuild his strength again. Soon enough, such a distraction was the thought of you, or, to be more specific, the thought of things he would do to you. The idea of corrupting those innocent, honest eyes which trusted him too much. He was almost sure you've never been with a man before, and this detail only made the thought of tainting you with his touch even more pleasing. Geto's soul was damned to be the abyss that trapped curses while yours was so empty, so peaceful, so quiet. Perhaps this was the only thin string of common sense that held him back from unleashing all his urges upon you. If he did bring ruin to your serenity, what was left for him to cling to? Everything you knew about the world, about jujutsu, it was all throgh his lens. Your convictions, your ideals, your motivation they were all his. Your loyalty to him was unbreakable, but wasn't it really his merit? If he did, after all, choose to ravage the holy garden and taste the fruit, wouldn't it also destroy the unsullied image of him in your eyes?

These thoughts were harder to resist whenever you cluelessly insisted on being next to Geto even when he pushed you away. You were knocking at his locked door, telling him you prepared some tea.

The tea is fucking useless.

The real medicine for his nerves, for his fatigue, for his dark thoughts was you. Only you. He would drink all the tea in the world just to have you sitting next to him, talking about nothing in particular. Geto used to think that your relationship dynamic is unchangeable. He was playing god, building the world around you, while you cluelessly looked up to him, not guessing even a fraction of his thoughts or intentions. He was superior in every sense. Then why did he feel so vulnerable when you knocked on his door, spoke his name so respectfully? Why was it so hard for him to control himself, send you away like all the times before?

Maybe this was what addiction felt like. Or was that tea really poisonous? Alone in his dark room, only a dim light creeping in from outside, Geto realized that maybe the dynamic you had changed. He changed. You gave him small bites of your presence, quick sips of your warmth every day until he found himself addicted. How could he send you away when you were the last remedy he could use to cope?

"Geto-sama?" You asked again when no sound came from inside his room.

"Come in." His voice was languid, reverberating in your brain like a lustful invitation. No, he was feeling sick. You were too caught up in your own desires while he was having a hard time.

His room was dark, unlike the brightly lighted hallway. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the change, but the first thing you noticed was the mass of long hair shining in the dim light. It was so captivating how in the bright light of the sun it was a dark shade absorbing everything, while in the soft night light it was almost glimmering, so luscious and silky.

"I don't feel like drinking tea tonight." His voice filled the room, soft and vulnerable, and it almost made you think he was hurt. So you put down the tray on the floor, your eyes still unable to spot the table exactly, and hurried to his side, to the light coming in through the window.

"Are you alright, Geto-sama?" You asked, voice full of worry, as you placed a hand flat on his forehead. His hair was beautifully unkempt and you pushed some strands away to see his face better. But as soon as he raised his eyes to look at you a shiver ran down your spine and you took your hand away swiftly.

He successfully tricked you. Contrary to his frail voice and his lethargic posture on the bed, his eyes were sharp, full of energy and piercing right through you. You felt threatened, although it was the same Geto you admired and served, the same Geto who taught you how to fight curses, how to defend yourself. But how could you defend yourself from him?

"I'm sorry if my presence is not as neat as you're used to." He said. He was still wearing the usual kesa and you wondered how much of his identity really resided in the religious facade. You wanted to see past that.

"Are you in pain?" You asked. He looked like a wounded animal, one that could still do you harm even in this state.

"Yes." He said, but nothing about the way he looked at you seemed to signal that he was in need of help. Instead, he was luring you in.

"How does it feel?" You slowly approached him again and sat down by his side. His back was resting against the wall and he watched you with a certain amused look. How foolish could you be?

"Like you felt when you first came to me." Geto answered, his eyes glued to yours. "Only that all those curses are inside me."

"Is this why you helped me?"

It was painfully ironic how, despite of how smart he thought he was, you delivered the answer so effortlessly.

"For the most part, yeah." He admitted. The rest of the reason was blatantly reflected in his eyes that were eating you alive as he spoke.

"Let me help you." You breathed out, without thinking. There was no logical reasoning in your brain. You natutally felt it in your body that you had what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him. "If I could take only a fraction of your torment away it would be worth it."

"How would you do that?" He asked, noticing how you leaned in and your hand touched his in a seemingly platonic attempt to comfort. But there was nothing platonic about the way you looked at him.

"Show me how curses taste." You breathed out.

For a moment, Geto was taken by surprise by your bluntness. What if you really could feel the sickening taste of curses on his lips? Would it make you turn back in disgust? Would it shatter the perfect image he built for himself inside your mind?

You didn't give him any more time to think. You simply stood up in front of him and pulled at the hems of your shirt, taking it off. Geto's eyes followed your every move in the dark, noticing the round contour of your breasts and the white lace of your bra. All his focus, his control, was gone. He was looking at you wide eyed, his pupils devouring every inch of your body as your fingers unclasped the bra in the front. He felt his mouth water, a primal hunger sparking alive inside his soul when your tits bounced free as you discarded the bra on the floor. You were offering yourself to him like a tribute, like a sacrifice to the gods. His train of thought was broken off, all the confusion and tumult in his mind completely turned off by the feeling of your lips on top of his. For a moment he remained frozen, the shadow of doubt still lingering, waiting for you to break away in repulsion. But you didn't. Instead, you placed your hand on his cheek, pressing your body closer to his. It was the last hint he needed.

Geto's hungry lips moved along with yours, easily taking control. You moaned in discomfort when his body shifted, pressing you down on the bed in an uncomfortable position, his lips never breaking off from yours. The feeling of his weight on top of you, his hair falling over his shoulders, brushing against your skin felt oddly familiar and, while you struggled to find a more comfortable position under him, you realized it felt just like the times you would fight. It was the same tension, the same blood rushing in your veins in excitement, the same anticipation for what would come next. Except that now you were taking it one step further.

To Geto, right now, you had only one purpose. His pleasure. Altough his hands touched you greedily, your flesh kneaded under his palms so roughly yet so satisfying, and his mouth moved to your neck to suck and bite every spot he found, earning soft moans of pleasure from you, it was all for himself. He was drunk on the taste of you. So desperate to forget everything else, eager to taste only you on his lips, forever. Your flesh was so soft, so sweet, so addicting. You were soaking wet already by the time his tongue ran circles around your sensitive nipple, rubbing your thighs together under your skirt. Both your hands were buried in his hair, pushing it away from his face while he couldn't be bothered with anything else but your flesh. You could also feel it, how selfish, how insatiable he was. Your pleasure was only a fortunate side effect, a convenient occurance. Between soft whimpers and muffled sounds of sucking and licking on your skin, you realized that he didn't care. His chaotic movements, his bites that were getting deeper and deeper everytime he sank his teeth into the soft tissue of your breast, his uncontrollable groans as he devoured you, it was all for himself. You were no different than the curses he was swallowing for later use. He would eat you alive if he could.

By the time he had your skirt pulled up, your panties discarded somewhere in the dark, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your thigh, it was too late. If there was a chance you could stop him before, check on him, try to get him to slow down a little, when his tongue first touched your wet and sensitive core it was already too late.

You gasped for air, your grip on his hair tightening as his tongue ran between your folds, running circles over your throbbing clit. He was eating you out with an aching thirst, sloppy and loudly, the only thing covering the dirty wet sounds of his tongue drenched in your juices being your own moans, significantly louder than before. He had your legs over his shoulders, his arms keeping your legs spread apart while his face was burried between them. He had you arching your back, dark strands of his hair falling from between your trembling fingers as his tongue dived inside you, his nose nuzzling up against your clit.

Your taste, your smell, your everything was numbing all his other senses, his mind blank, asleep, thoughtless. The only thing driving him, dictating every turn of his tongue, every press of his lips was the unquenchable thirst to eat you, consume you. Something inside his blood, his bones, his soul dictated that the pitch black abyss where he kept all the curses he ever swallowed could be obliterated by you.

"So sweet for me."

It didn't take much before his tongue got you close to the edge, your orgasm only a few touches away as your toes curled and your muscles tightened, although his arms kept your legs pushed apart. He didn't care at all if anyone heard your filthy moans or the sound of his name echoing from inside his room. You were loud enough, even louder than ever as you came, the peak of pleasure washing over you.

But soon, pleasure turned to pain as Geto kept the same hungry rhythm, continuing to eat you out with the same determination like he didn't even notice your orgasm.

"So fucking sweet."

He couldn't have missed it, his name reverberating in the silent room like a fervent prayer, your thighs tightening under his touch, your hands pulling at his hair. He didn't care. He was doing it for himself, eating you out for his own pleasure. Moreover, his effort only intesified as you fought to push him away. The more you struggled to get his face away from your overstimulated pussy, the faster his tongue moved. You cried out his name again, this time in pain, begging him to stop. You tried pushing your legs together, fighting to break free. Your hands tried pushing his head away. The back of your heels hit his back, your legs trying to force him away. You begged, implored him to stop as tears rolled down your face. But he had your hips tightly pressed on the mattress, arms forcing your thighs apart. Once again, you felt exactly like the the times he would train you. So easily defeated. So helpless.

"Ge-geto... sa-ah-ma." You begged between cries, your salty tears falling uncontrollably like the first day when you came to him. "No more... ple-please." He pushed one of your legs with his elbows, his palm pressing firmly on your lower belly, forcing your convulsions to stop.

"Shut up or I'll have you chained up." He found the time to growl, even the feeling of his breath against your painfully overstimulated clit making you cry out.

His warning meant nothing compared to your discomfort, but your second orgasm started building up shortly. Your struggle died down and your hands were pulling him closer again, nails digging into his shoulders. A wet pool of your fluids and his saliva mixed together was dripping off your skin on the sheets as your body shook again, more violently than the previous time. He seemed to have had enough, at least for the moment, because he let you go, your legs desperately pressed together as you rolled on your side, whole body trembling, heavy breathing, every cell of your body exploding with raw pleasure.

You didn't know for how much time you simply laid there, your mind hazy from the overstimulation, your body exhausted from both pleasure and pain. It could have been five minutes or as much as the whole night that had passed when you finally became aware of Geto's eyes fixed on your body.

But the thing that really made you snap out of your lifelessness was his voice calling out your name. Your own name, for the first time. Almost as if he learned it only after having your taste left on his lips.

"You're a blessing." Geto breathed out as the strain in his jaw was slowly creeping in. You didn't say anything in return. There was nothing to say to those intoxicated eyes. Those swollen lips still covered in your juices. His tongue ran over them, collecting the last remains of your juices. But the pain in his voice was gone. Although bewildered and curious, he seemed to have regained his energy, rediscovered a reason to live.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you again, his lips offering soft kisses along your leg, upwards to your hips. He seemed more collected, more in control of his instincts as he put the minimal pressure on your skin with every kiss until he reached your lips again. Your hands pulled at his clothes, the desire to see him naked like he saw you taking over. He chuckled, giving in to your petty efforts.

"Please, Geto-sama." You said. "Let me satisfy your needs."

He smiled, that patronizing smile of satisfaction.

"You can try."

《previous Ascension | next》 The Hunt |True Form!Sukuna x Reader Sukuna x Reader

#geto suguru #geto smut #geto suguru smut #jjk geto #jujustu kaisen #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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thoughtsfromlayla · 3 months

Text

Love and Loss

Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.

Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)

Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon

Masterlist

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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.

The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.

Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.

Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.

“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”

The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”

Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.

“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.

“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.

“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.

“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.

He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”

The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.

She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.

“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.

Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.

When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.

Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.

“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.

Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.

“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”

The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”

With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.

As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.

Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.

A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.

“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.

The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.

Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.

As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.

Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…

Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.

Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.

“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.

“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.

He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”

An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”

The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.

“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.

The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”

The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.

“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”

He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.

“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.

“My wife?” He kisses again.

“My forever goddess?” And again.

“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.

“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.

The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.

Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.

“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.

She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.

The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.

Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.

He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.

He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.

“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.

“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.

She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.

When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”

It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”

She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.

Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.

Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.

Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.

Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.

“Beg for it.” He commands.

Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.

“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.

Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.

He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.

“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.

She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.

Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.

“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.

“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.

“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.

“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”

“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.

Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.

“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.

This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.

She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.

That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.

Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.

“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.

She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.

“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.

“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.

Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.

His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”

A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.

“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”

When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.

“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.

“What in return?” He asks.

“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.

The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.

She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.

When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.

Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.

The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.

She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.

He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.

She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.

The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.

She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.

As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.

Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.

She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.

As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.

“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.

“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.

Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”

“Let us hope,” She says defeated.

For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.

She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.

Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.

“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”

The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.

All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.

Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.

The Dreaming is dying.

As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.

This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?

This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.

For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.

Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.

Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.

She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.

And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.

A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.

Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.

“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.

Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.

Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.

“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.

“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.

“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.

“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.

She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.

She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.

The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.

Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.

Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.

“Who dares summon m-”

“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.

A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.

Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.

As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.

“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.

“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?

Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.

“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”

The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.

Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.

A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.

“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.

The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.

The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.

A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.

Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.

As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.

“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.

“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.

Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.

“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”

She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.

The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.

She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”

Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.

Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.

“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.

The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.

Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.

It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.

Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.

A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.

She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”

The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.

Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.

The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.

“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.

The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.

It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.

The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.

It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.

She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.

“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”

“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”

“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.

Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.

“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.

“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.

The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.

“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.

She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.

Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.

A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.

“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.

“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.

When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.

“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.

The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.

“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.

“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.

“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”

“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”

“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.

“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.

Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.

She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.

“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.

She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.

The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.

A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.

Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.

Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.

At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.

“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”

The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.

“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.

She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.

“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.

Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.

“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”

Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.

“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”

Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.

Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.

“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.

The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.

She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.

“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.

From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.

Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.

Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.

“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.

The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.

“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.

The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.

“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.

The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.

“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.

She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.

Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.

Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.

“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.

Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.

“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.

She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.

A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.

“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.

Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.

Extra:

“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.

He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.

“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.

He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.

Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.

The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.

“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.

“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.

The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.

“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”

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