#but i really liked how this one came out it's like a softer modern days approach to helios and greek stuff and i think it suits tay better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackknight-kai · 1 month ago

Note

listen ok? listen just a mo! gimme a chance

Modern reader with DO or SW who is shaved. or better yet waxed. just smooth as a baby

You and your monke getting frisky for the first time and the molecular movement of the universe stops the second he sees you bare... like wtf?!? Where's the fur? what did you do to it??? Why did you do it?!?

shennanigans follow, he basicaly gets all hissy and pissy and you need to promise to give your fur a chance. Once it grows out he's like "MY fuzzy peach."

Fur or no fur?

HAHA friend you always are on the same wavelength as me. I have THOUGHTS. (N.S.F.W WARNING FOR THE ENTIRE POST!!!)

He would not give TWO FUCKS about how hairy you are. Ever. Have you seen him? I’ve been thinking a lot about how he absolutely would not mind if youre a hairy person or whatever your weight is. That shit WOULD NOT MATTER. I feel like he’d love if you let your hair grow though vs being shaved/waxed. He lives in the jungle why wouldn’t he eat there too? 💀

I’ll try to give a little Drabble on both since it’s fun to imagine the subtle differences between them.

Reader in this is in a situation where she’d been zapped to the past but can go back when she needs to the present (after lots of trial and error). Sometimes he comes along, being her anchor to the past, and sometimes he stays back waiting for reader. (N.S.F.W bullet notes at the end :) - this get explicit for FEM READER you have been warned)

Destined one

The bathroom is warm and steamy from your bath/shower combo, you sigh opening the door letting the cool air into the room as you step into your connected bedroom. Seeing him look up at you as you come into view while he’s lounging on his back on your bed makes your heart beat quicken with anticipation. He’d been playing with your tablet, something he’s oddly gotten really good at messing with and especially enjoys the little word games you’d downloaded for him. Your world is still extremely strange to him and while he’s ever curious something as simple as these little games can keep him entertained for hours.

The reason he’s visiting today isn’t just because he’s curious about the life you came from. Oh no. Today, you both are taking a much needed break and a little private time for yourselves without the worry of constant danger or interruption. Since the day you’d become a couple you two had not really had too many moments for just you guys. It had been months since that day and you’d both gotten a little…pent up so to speak. The most you’ve gotten to do with your handsome monkey is heated make-outs where hands wander as best they can and a little grinding over the clothes before something or someone decides to ruin the moment.

It was a little bit of a shy awkward conversation but you’d both agreed that coming here would be the best solution to your continuous cock block issue. And since you were coming home anyway you figured you’d do a little self pampering and prepare for your first night with him. You’d even put on your favorite pair of ‘sexy’ panties, no bra, and slipped on a silk robe.

You smile as his tail, which had been completely still and draped across the blanket, starts to lazily thump against the bed, curling and uncurling as soon as his eyes locked on to you. It’s one of the ways you know he’s happy to see you. His eyes are another of his tells. The way he always looks at you with such focus and intensity. It makes your cheeks redden and a thrill run down your spine.

There is a thick tension growing in the air as you both study one another for a moment before he sets the tablet to the side on your nightstand and gets up from the bed, his eyes never look away from you and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as he stalks deliberately around the bed to stand just before you. Youre focused on his expression, it’s softer than usual. His frown lines relaxed and while he has that determined look on his face it’s not stern like normal. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his tail swishing behind him.

Gently he reaches out and you lean into his touch as he places his large calloused hand on your cheek. As he does so he brings his face closer and brushes his simian nose against yours tenderly and then he does it again with a slight smirk lifting up the corner of his eye and a soft questioning grunt. Seeing you nod he lets out a pleased sigh through his nose before leaning in to capture your lips with his. It’s chaste at first but quickly deepens as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer and slides his claw tipped fingers down your neck with the other. Things rapidly heat up as the pent up need in you both starts to take over. Hands start to wander and you both start to breathe heavier as he impatiently slides his shirt off his shoulders. Your fingers immediately reach out to touch and slide through his warm fur starting from his tense abs all the way up his chest and over the hairless patch of skin just under his neck before circling your arms around his neck.

His own hands start to move too, holding you tightly against him as he starts to explore your curves. Impatiently he yanks at the robed tied around you while his tongue explores your mouth, wanting it off NOW. With a little laugh you try to reach down to untie the knot but you’re not fast enough. As he kisses hotly down your neck, having takin a moment to taste your skin, he presses his fangs to your throat gently as he rips the robes belt. You gasp, both turned on by the show of strength and annoyed he’d ripped it.

“Hey!” You say breathlessly and shiver as he nips your neck before kissing it as an apology.

Now that your robe is no longer hiding you from him he pulls your body into his by strong hands and you shudder at the feeling of his fur rubbing softly against your naked skin. His body answers in kind and he kisses back up your neck to devour your lips, his hands slipping into the opened robe to wander up and down your back. You allow the silk material to fall from your arms and on to the floor before wrapping your arms back around his neck. It’s like something has taken a hold of you two and you cant get close enough, cant feel enough, and before long he snatches you up into his strong grip only to deposit you onto your bed as he climbs over you.

You both groan as he lowers himself on top of you settling himself between your spread legs like he belongs there, his clothed hips thrusting instinctively against yours showing you just how hard and desperate he is for you. Your body arches up against his unable to stop the movement as he humps down against you for several moments while you pant into each others mouths, his fur tickles your breasts as your chests brush together making you let out little shivers. The claw tipped fingers of one of his hands dig into your hip and back as he starts guiding your hips to grind harder, your pussy pressing incessantly against his cock, the other arm is propped up next to your head keeping his weight from crushing you.

Your panties are soaked from how needy hes made you and you can tell he knows when he suddenly takes in a deep inhale through his nose before pulling back just a little to look down at you, his eyes are blown out with a heated lust you have only ever seen a few times. A little whine escapes you as he continues to pull back from you, he grins a little, the cheeky bastard, as he hears it. He’s breathing heavily, just as you are, and as he pulls his hips back from yours a groan rumbles through his chest at the visible wet spots you’d both made on the front of his blue pants and on your panties from your combined need.

Almost like a monkey possessed he slides down the bed, diving down to kiss your lips once and then nip at your exposed skin from your neck to your breasts. You tip your head back, your eyes closing in pleasure, as he pays special attention to suck each of your nipples into his mouth one at a time with a groan before releasing the currently captured nipple with a wet pop to continue his mouths journey down your stomach and to your panty line. His breathing has picked up even more, sending trembles through your body as his breath tickles your skin. Part of you feels a little self conscious as he is clearly taking in your aroused scent.

Without warning he shreds through your panties and you gasp at the action finding it ridiculously hot. You expect him to dive down and glide his tongue over your pussy lips to taste you or to spread your lower lips open with his thumbs so he can start to devour you with his mouth from how desperate he seemed, your anticipation is almost enough to send you over the edge.

But none of that happens. Nothing happens besides him making a very confused noise in the back of his throat. At the sound you glance down and you’re met with a sight you genuinely weren’t expecting.

He’s frowning. Not a look of disgust by any means but his expression is almost the same as when he’s seeing something from your world for the first time. Confused.

“Uh, you okay?” You ask feeling your heart pound with a slight worry.

He doesnt even glance up at you as another confused sound leaves him, it’s a mixture of human and monkey, something entirely just him. You watch as he slides his hand from your inner thigh, where it had been holding you open, and he pets over the smooth naked skin of your pussy lips almost tentatively. You’d just shaved in the bathroom in preparation for this moment so you know your skin is silky smooth.

A grimace accompanies the frown and now you’re starting to feel self conscious. His fingers explore but not in the heated way you would expect. His touch remains light as though he doesnt know what hes looking at and you cant stop the shiver that courses through you as his thumb brushes across the slick that had leaked from you, but he doesnt do much besides continue his investigation, not even opening you up to look as he is entirely focused it seems on your smooth skin.

Feeling nervous and wondering if maybe he’s changed his mind you squirm uncomfortably and lay your hands across your chest self consciously. “Do you,” You find your voice and with a worried heart ask him what’s now plaguing your mind. “Not like it? Does it look weird or something? You look like you hate it and if you dont want me-“

Your voice cuts off as his eyes snap to yours and his expression shifts immediately to one of apologetic realization. He shakes his head and lets out a little comforting noise as he starts to climb back up your body peppering little kisses all the way from your stomach until he captures your mouth in a firm kiss. You grip on to his biceps as he deepens the kiss desperate to prove he wants you. It’s a messy kiss and after a few moments you laugh and pull away. His frown is still there but it has a worried edge to it and you know he’s trying to convey his true feelings to you, its even more apparent as he nuzzles your cheek with his nose and gives you little kisses of apology.

“Okay okay,” You breathe out as he cups your other cheek with one hand and gives firmer kisses. The back of your thighs are resting over top his as he holds himself above you with one hand still on the bed next to your head. “It’s okay!” You try to say although you’re not quite sure what’s happened. “Just tell me what’s wrong, I dont,” Your paused voice has lowered to a murmur as he pulls back to look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “Understand why you were looking at it like that….”

His face takes a different expression at your words. He still looks a little apologetic but its taken on the edge of a…pout? It’s similar to when you sit just outside the reach of his tail so he cant wrap it around you and he stares at you until you either move closer or he huffs with annoyance and either pulls you closer or moves next to you. You watch as he seems to study you for a moment as though he’s trying to figure out what he wants to convey to you.

The hand on your cheek moves away as he bring it down to your pussy again. You watch curiously as he brushes his thumb across the smooth skin before he reaches up and tugs on a lock of your hair. It’s your turn to frown up at him and he huffs a little before finally opening his mouth to utter a single low raspy word.

“Fur.”

Fur? You think to yourself as you also bask in the snippet of his voice that he rarely bestows on the world. He pointedly tugs on your hair before lowering his hand again to pat the soft skin between your legs, the action sends a jolt through you and makes your thighs tighten around him. His lip twitches at the action and it takes you just a moment but you finally realize what his problem is.

When you giggle his eyes glance down and narrow as your breast jiggle a little with the movement, you reach out and pet his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch with a slight sigh as he looks up from your chest. “You’re wondering where my hair is?” You ask with a smile. He nods and kisses your palm as your thumb brushes across the fur on his cheek. “I removed it for you!”

He gives you a confused look as if to ask ‘Why’ & ‘How’.

“I shaved it off earlier, it’s something most women do now a day’s. Guy’s usually prefer it that way,” You explain and you might have gotten offended by the look he gives you but it’s honestly too damn funny.

His nose wrinkles and he looks as though you told him modern people bathe in shit or something. With a snicker you pull him down to lie on top of you again, pleased to feel that his desire for you has not weaned if the hard press of his cock against you is anything to go by. You tentatively grind up against him and grin at the sharp intake of breath he does. “This mean you still want me?”

At your teasing question he snorts and gives you a rare wide smirk before thrusting against you hard sending a shock of pleasure up your spine as his clothed dick rubs against your bare pussy. His tail wraps itself around your calf holding you open as again he pulls back, to your disappointment, this time to sit up fully. You watch as he reaches down to push his pants down and your cheeks burn as you notice the string of slick connecting the bulge on his pants to your wet pussy. It breaks as he shoves the material out of the way and his heavy cock slips out. The hard length is drooling with precum as he palms himself and youre so focused on it for a moment you almost dont hear a light laugh come from him. His fingers uncurl from their hold on his cock and gesture for you to look up. Doing so you see one of the cockiest expressions on his face you have ever seen.

He spends the rest of the night showing you exactly how much he wants you and will continue to want you. Over the course of the next several weeks into months you discover several things about him. First and foremost, he loves your juicy peach. That said, he loves it even more when you let your hair grow out. He doesnt mind if you trim it or if you leave it wild and untamed. As long as he has something pet and play with as he licks you to orgasm.

Just to test that theory you hadn’t let him near your core until some of the hair had grown back, not that he had many opportunities anyway between the fights he always seems to get himself into. The adoring pleased sound hed made as he nuzzled his nose and cheeks across your soft fuzzy pussy would have been adorable if it wasn’t overly stimulating, especially as his sneaky tongue would slip between your lips every so often to taste you.

Shaving it has become rare, but sometimes just to mess with him you do it. Seeing his adorable pout and huffy attitude as he realizes you’ve shaved or waxed is just so satisfying especially when he gets so hot and bothered later when it grows back. Keeps him on his toes.

Wukong

When you arrive, having in finished your business in the present time, Wukong is lounging on your now shared bed in the beautiful home he’d commissioned for you way back when he first decided you would be his. Yes, hed decided that long before you officially became an item. Part of you was annoyed by his cocky arrogance of it but the other part was thankful that you had somewhere safe to stay while he was off doing Wukong things, which generally consisted of annoying the hell out of someone, fighting someone, baby sitting the little monkey’s, or training his monkey’s. While hes always going to be mischievous and up to something, he is very protective of his people and now that you are part of his life he wanted to make sure you had a space of your own.

Apparently he’d taken inspiration from your modern home, which he is very rarely allowed to visit as he cant seem to keep himself out of trouble nor stop himself from messing with every little thing in your house to the point of annoyance. You find his curiosity adorable and love showing him new things but sometimes his more….chaotic nature takes hold and there’s only so much you can do to stop the force of nature that is Sun Wukong. Which most of the time is nothing. So to combat that you only take him to your time on special occasions.

It’s gotten a little better after you’d become official, he is calmer and not as anxious about when you will come back. Because in his mind you WILL come back and he trusts you to do so. The one thing that hasn’t gotten easier is your alone time with him. He’s quite busy oddly enough and since your relationship had only progressed so far you hadn’t really let him stay with you at the home he’d built you, not until about a week ago. You’d THOUGHT you might be able to get some action by letting him sleep with you at night but no. It’s been interruption after interruption or he comes back late into the night only to leave early in the morning for some reason or another. Someone always seems to need his attention and he cares too much about his people to leave them hanging. Plus protecting them from wandering dangers.

His furry warm solid body is a welcome comfort as you sleep but it’s not enough. Neither are sneaky touches and kisses he bestows on you throughout the day. It’s only made worse due to his cheeky nature as he enjoys watching squirm or get worked up only to cackle as you pout at him when he bounds off to another duty. You KNOW he’s suffering too, you’ve felt his heated eyes on you almost every minute youre within his sight and the lingering touches. Not to mention his obvious desire that ends up pressed against you when you kiss a little too long or when youre genuinely interrupted during an attempted moment alone together.

It had come to a head when you’d had enough of his games on top of the true issues that seem to prevent you from getting your monkey king alone. He’d worked you up too much two days ago, his tail caressing you and sneaking under your shirt while you were cuddling in bed amongst the soft furs and pillows. Wukongs hands had also joined in as he pressed himself behind you, his hot breath tickling your ear as he rocked himself against your ass. Heat had started to build up within you and you’d just started to lean into him when he kisses your neck and then scurries out of bed with a laugh, saying he just wanted to spend a little time with you before his meeting with his generals.

You’d had enough. So as he turns you reached out and snagged his tail, yanking on it unkindly. His body had instantly frozen and you were pleased to see the full body shudder that went through him before his slowly turned to the side to look at you. Wukong was tense, his body taut, and his nostrils flaring as his expression went from playful to downright boiling with arousal. He exuded a certain air of ‘tug my tail one more time, I dare you’. Seeing the obvious bulge in his pants twitch at your defiant look, you almost yank his tail again. But there was a loud banging on your front door alerting the two of you that his generals were waiting. When he tried to turn to leave you dont let go of his tail making him pause.

You then tell him, “You have two days. On the 2nd day I’m going home and if you’re not here when I come back and have a clear schedule for a minimum of three days you will not be allowed in this house again and your hands will be kept to yourself from then on until I say so, am I clear Sun Wukong?” Your voice is firm and leaves no room for question.

Wukong raised an eyebrow as you use his full name and for a moment you were afraid he wasn’t going to take you seriously and instead start teasing you for wanting him too much. Another loud knock sounded through the house from the front door and thankfully he just smirked and reached down to tickle a claw under your chin. “Dont worry my peach, you’ll have your kings full attention. I’ll take care of your,” He trailed his eyes hotly down your body and then back up to meet your gaze. “Desires. All of them and then some.”

At his promise you let go of his tail, he swiped it teasingly against your cheek before he was off again.

Now as you reappear in your shared bedroom your eyes rake over him skeptically as he grins at you. He’s lying shirtless on his side, his tail swishing lazily behind him looking as though he’d been patiently awaiting your arrival. But the twig stuck in the fur on his head say’s otherwise. So does the open window behind him.

You raise your eyebrow at him and he gives you an adorable grin. Wukong see’s where your eyes have caught and he quickly rakes his claws through his hair and tosses the stick. Your eyes roll at how ridiculously accurate he is as he manages to throw it out the window.

“I see you made it,” You say walking over to the bed and putting your hands on your hips. The sight of his furred upper body and his muscles on display tempers your slight annoyance with him for clearly only just arriving. “Just in time it seems.”

Wukong chuckles and he pats the bed in front of him signaling for you to join him. “A King must make sure his Sweet Peach is satisfied does he not?”

You dont move to join him just yet, wanting to let him stew as his eyes roam over your body. The silk robe you’d put on was new and so were the matching panties. Your breasts were free and only just barely covered by the silk material, Wukongs eyes seemed to hover there for a moment before he looks up and meets your eyes. “I suppose thats true. I was starting to wonder though if my King wasn’t up to the task, he always seems to find some reason or another to leave me unsatisfied.”

The words are playful yet cutting. Wukong doesnt take the bait, you’d expected him to get huffy and go all ‘I’ll show you’ but instead his expression softens uncharacteristically. “Come here,” His voice is gentle as he holds out a calloused hand to you. “Please, come here,” Wukong doesnt beg but its near to as he say’s your name. Something he doesnt normally do preferring to call you his ‘Peach’ usually combined with a compliment.

Unable to resist you climb on to the bed, the robe thankfully doesnt go past your knees so youre able to crawl across the furs with no issues. He sits up to meet you and once youre close enough he pulls you effortlessly onto his lap as he takes your mouth in a desired filled kiss. You straddle him, a thigh on either side of his hips, and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find purchase on your body. One wrapping around your waist to bring you close and the other glides up your back to hold the back of your head as he slips his tongue into your mouth with a groan.

Before the kiss can get too much more intense he pulls back, both of you a little breathless, and sets his forehead against yours. “My pretty Peach, you have no idea how much I want you do you?” He asks, voice thick with growing arousal.

A smile cracks on your face and you shake your head just a little. “I know you want me Wukong. I know you’re busy and have duties to your people,” You reply sincerely. “But sometimes I need you too, and not just stolen kisses or your little cheeky touches to my ass.”

Wukong’s arm around your waist tightens at your words causing you to slip further into his lap and settle your weight fully on him. “You’re right, I have duties to you too now. Not only as a King but as a mate. I promise to do better,” He nuzzles his nose against yours and of course pinches your ass with the hand that is no longer holding the back of your head. As you laugh he grins and his tail slithers up your leg, the soft fur causing goosebumps to crop up in its wake. “You better be ready,” Wukongs tail sneaks under the robe and you can feel it caressing your ass cheek as though it was trying to get under your panties. “I’ve been holding back for far too long and I’m going to show you just how much I want you.”

“Then get to it,” You challenge with a grin of your own. “Mate.”

He flashes his fangs as his grin widens. “I like that word on your tongue, say it again,” Wukong demands but doesnt let you even attempt to utter the word as he kisses you deeply, his tongue immediately entering your mouth, claiming you as his to kiss this way.

A moan leaves your throat as Wukongs hands migrate to your thighs, his claw tipped fingers digging in a little as he massages them sensually for a moment before slipping up your legs to your core. The claws of his thumbs brush just against the fabric of your panties catching on them as his hands continue their journey up your body.

Wukong makes a noise of complaint in the back of his throat as the belt of your robe prevents him from getting any further. Without breaking the needy kiss he deftly unties it. The silk material falls open and his hands slide up your sides until your breast are cupped by his large, rough warm palms. A needy sound escapes you as you feel him massage your tits, hearing the noise Wukong’s hips grind up against yours and you can feel just how affected he is by you. You grind down against him making him squeeze your breasts in reaction.

He breaks the kiss as he groans, a string of saliva connecting your lips together for just a second. Wukong nips your chin and trails wet kisses down your neck as he moves his hands once more, this time grabbing your wrists. You gasp as youre suddenly moved, your arms held above your head as your back hits the bed. Wukong’s furry face is grinning roguishly down at you as he effortlessly holds both of your wrists with one hand.

“Gorgeous,” He rumbles still breathless from your passionate kiss. You arch your back as he dives down to lick the center of your chest between your boobs before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. “Tasty too,” Wukong nips your nipple and then sucks little marks on your chest on his way to taste the other.

His strong tail circles your waist under your back and jerks your hips into his at the same time as he roughly thrusts against you. You let out a little sound as your thighs instinctively tighten around his waist from the stimulation which he answers with his own pleased rumble. His free hand gets to work shredding and ripping your panties off as Wukong traces his lips back up your neck and to your ear which he licks and nips at, his breath tickles your skin making you shiver.

“Wukong! I liked those!” You half heartedly complain.

Wukong smirks against your ear as he tosses the useless panties carelessly. “And I like them off you,” He says lowly as he leans back to look you in the eyes. “I can smell how wet you are for me Peaches,” Wukongs voice has taken on an aroused rasp and he licks his lips while taking a deep breath through his nose, his eyes never leaving yours. “No pretty little fabric is going to keep me from tasting your pleasure.”

“You still didn’t have to rip them,” You mumble with a slight pout but its quickly replaced by a gasp as he thrusts against you again while pinching one of your nipples with that free hand of his. He snickers and leans down to steal your lips in a messy kiss and then your arching your chest again as he breaks the kiss and replaces his teasing fingers with his mouth once more. He chuckles, the vibration felt on your nipple, as you squirm against him unable to grab him due to his hold on your wrists with his other hand. He takes pity on you and releases your wrists only so he can pinch both your nipples at the same time and roll them between his fingers as he kisses down your stomach.

Your thighs spread to accommodate him and his shoulders while your heart and breath quicken as he reaches his destination. His lips still though as they touch the soft naked skin just above your slit and a needy whine leaves your mouth. You try to wiggle your hips as if to say ‘let’s get this show on the road’ but suddenly his strong hands are gripping your hips holding you down and he fully sits up pulling his face away from your pussy.

“What the-“

“Where did your beautiful fur go?” Wukong demands, voice is full of confusion.

“What?” You blink at him, confused yourself before a little tremor runs through you as he begins to almost tentatively brush his fingers over your soft mound and down your slick lips, his fingers spreading your juices but not necessarily meaning to.

“Your fur, why is it gone? What did you do with it? Why do you look this way?” He locks eyes with you and you see how serious his question is. He’s clearly perturbed by what he’s found as he removes his fingers from you and instead grips on to your tense thigh. Wukongs tail smacks the bed behind him in an almost angry rhythm.

Your heart stutters but not with arousal. “I-uhm,” You stumble over your words completely taken aback by his change in demeanor. “I had it removed, got it waxed the other day for you after you left to talk with your generals.”

Wukongs face scrunches up with distaste as he looks back down between your legs. “Why would you do such a thing? Is it permanent?” His tone is incredulous and upset.

Feeling self conscious you try to close your thighs but he holds you open. So instead you reach down and cover yourself with your hands, the movement makes him look up at you but you turn your head to the side not wanting to look at his displeasure anymore. “I thought you’d like it,” You murmur lowly knowing he can hear every word with how good his hearing is. Your cheeks are turning red feeling a little ashamed now and not sure why. “Most guys want that.”

He scoffs, his fingers gripping your thigh and hip tighter. “You’re forgetting I’m not ‘most’ guys Peaches,” Wukong states his voice not quite angry but getting there. “I don’t care who you may have lain with in the past but they aren’t me-“

“I know that!” You turn your head to glare at him, pulling the leg up that he isnt holding and kicking him in the chest once. He doesnt budge of course nor does he even look like it affected him at all as you keep your foot there putting pressure in the hopes that he will just back off. He doesnt move and instead frowns down at you as he removed his hand from your hip to grab your ankle. Turning your head away from him again look anywhere but at him. “Where I come from this is normal! People trim and clean up for their partners, mates, and it’s supposed to be sexy. I-“ You cut yourself off and slightly curl in on yourself as you feel his gaze boring into you. Your skin has started to grow cold and if you didn’t need to cover yourself up you would have grabbed a blanket to cover up. “I just wanted to be pretty for you.”

At your admission Wukongs grip on your thigh loosens and he gently coaxes your ankle away from his chest pulling your leg back to his side. “Oh my gorgeous Peach,” He sighs softly and you can immediately tell the change in his tone. Wukong tries once to get you to remove your hands but you refuse. “Look at me,” Your monkey king asks gently and you shake your head.

With a gentle sound from deep in his chest, something you’ve really only heard him do with the little ones that are always following after him, he leans down putting one of his hands next to your head and the other sweetly cups your turned cheek. Firmly, but without much force, he coaxes you to look at him and when you do you see how much his expression has softened. You dont have tears in your eyes, not quite, but the look on your face has Wukong making that instinctive comforting sound again.

“I’m sorry,” He apologizes keeping his voice low, something that he very rarely ever does, as he gently taps your nose with his. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted or that you aren’t stunning in every way,” Wukongs tail slides out from under your back and he brushes it soothingly up and down your leg. “Make no mistake, fur or no fur, I hunger for you.”

There is a certainty in his words and you know he’s not lying but the way he acted still has you defensive and unsure. “Then why are you acting like you hate it?”

Wukong has the capacity to look a little sheepish. “I suppose I just wasn’t expecting it,” He sniffs and glances away. “Your smooth juicy peach is still mouthwatering and beautiful, I just prefer you a little more…fuzzy. Seeing you bathing that one time made me very excited to explore your pretty little curls.”

The time he was speaking of was before you’d gotten together and he’d accidentally gotten an eye full of your naked body as he wasn’t being mindful of your personal time in the modern era and had thrown your bathroom door open to gripe about the magic box. Your tv had been buffering due to internet connection and it apparently was freaking him out enough that he forgot that you were bathing. Or so he says.

His words make you flush. “You’re so weird,” You mumble not sure what to say and blink up at him as he looks back at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I am, am I?” He teases as he leans back sitting up again before gently sliding his up and down your arms trying to comfort you. “Let me see you,” Wukong requests using your name once more with a pleading tone to his voice. Your hands twitch but you dont move them away from shielding your smooth hairless cunt from his eyes.

You shake your head slightly. “But you dont like it,” You reply still feeling self conscious about the whole thing.

Wukongs features soften again and that gentle sound hed made rumbles in his chest, oddly it’s extremely soothing and comforting it, he slides his hands down to cover yours, not attempting to move you just holding. “Forgive my little tantrum about your fur, I never not want to see you. Do you want me to show you how much I crave you? Because I do, all the time. Let me make it up to you,” His tone is comforting and also sincere as he strokes the top of your hands with his thumbs.

Studying him for a moment you contemplate if you want to continue this or not, you find that you do as you’d been waiting so long and you do trust him to be honest with his word. He’s said much worse to people and doesnt hold back when he’s thinking something. Finally you nod after you gather your courage. Youre just about to start moving your hands when he squeezes them and pointedly pats them.

“Keep them there for one more moment,” Wukong says in contradiction to what hed just asked. You frown with a bit of confusion up at him but he just smiles at you as he sits a little further back and you notice for the first time that there’s still a bulge in his pants. He clearly hadn’t lost his interest in your activities. His hands move to the top of his pants and start to push them down while his tail swishes back and forth behind him. “Thinking about you makes my cock ache daily you know,” He tells you, his voice taking on a more heated tone as his eyes roam over your body and especially over your pressed together tits.

A shudder zips down your spine as slips his pants fully off, tossing them behind him his fully furry body on display. His hard length is standing at attention and heat starts to build within you again as he takes himself in hand with a rumbling groan, stroking slowly and making the tip leak. You watch, your breath starting to pick up, as he thumbs the drop of precum off his cock and nods at your hands silently asking you to remove them.

As you do so he reaches out and swipes his wet thumb a little over your silky soft pubic mound before dragging it down to your slit, it’s an almost possessive act of rubbing his essence on you. You’re still wet from your previous activities and your body lights up as his thumb slides between your pussy lips slowly. Feeling how slick you are he croons lowly and slips his thumb out only to stick it directly into his mouth. Your hole tightens as he moans around the flavor.

Seeing you squirm a little he chuckles and scoots forward resting his hard dick against your slick lips, the dual sensation of his fur brushing the back of your thighs and his heavy cock sends heat racing through you. Your hips tilt and he mimics the movement pressing down on the top of his length with his hand so that it slips between your lower lips. The glide is smooth after a thrust or two thanks to how slick you are and little moans tear out of your throat as the head of his cock slides against your clit with each controlled glide. You grab on to his furry forearms just to have something to hold as moves against you.

Wukong groans deep in his chest, his own breath picking up speed. “You feel so fucking good,” He pants as you squeeze your legs around him tightly. His hands wrap around your hips preventing you from arching your self just so as he almost slips inside during one thrust making you both shake and moan. “Ah, ah, ah, I’m not done with you just yet,” Wukong grins down at you as he pulls his hips away from yours. He snarls as he sees how wet you’ve made his cock and the strings of slick connecting the two of you. “I told you I crave you. I intend to satisfy that craving.”

You cry out as your hips are suddenly raised up and youre bent almost in half as your pussy is pulled directly up to his waiting mouth.

He spends the next several hours, days honestly, making sure you know damn well and good that he is desperate for you at every minute of the day. That he craves the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your warm pussy wrapped tightly around his cock as he pounds into you. Fur or not he hungers for you like a starved monkey.

When alls said and done though he absolutely DEMANDS that you let your hair grow back. In fact he pouts around for several days after your little mini vacation until you finally agree to never shave or wax it again. But only after he reassured you that he would respect your choice of course if you decided to do it, he would devour you regardless.

As the hair slowly grows back Wukong seems happy, content. When it’s about half grown in you have to laugh your ass off as he mumbles to himself, “MY fuzzy peach”, one night before proceeding to eat you out like you really ARE his favorite food.

At some point you end up blocking him from seeing or touching your pussy. Why? Because he constantly checks to see how fast your curls are growing back and after a while it gets annoying. It’s honestly not that bad, youre happy hes excited about it, but just to mess with him you put a no sex or heavy petting rule into play. It’s worth it when you finally walk into your shared bedroom fully naked one night, curls on display. He promptly drops a dish of whatever he’d been snacking on, a very primal sound leaves his throat and youre promptly pounced on.

That night he’s untamed.

END!

Few things that I think BOTH would do:

- [ ] Rub their cheek/chin/lips over your fuzzy peach - like how cats like men with beards and like rubbing in their chins 💀

- [ ] It’s kinda like scent marking - he’s wearing you and you are wearing him - his sensitive nose reminding him that HE was there and only him.

- [ ] Enjoys combing gently through the jungle with his claws or twirling the hair softly as he licks you and tastes you.

- [ ] Might stick his hand down your pants/underwear when you cuddle at night to make sure you haven’t gotten rid of it 🤣

- [ ] Enjoys making your fur wet with his cum just like he enjoys you soaking his fur with your juices.

- [ ] Likes seeing your “fur” tangle with his as he fucks you.

#black myth wukong #black myth wukong x reader #destined one x reader #sun wukong x reader #bk kai writes #Well?#:)#This took a while LOL #Thats why I was slow getting other stuff done besides work.#I go sleep now….

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mononijikayu · 2 months ago

Text

non ho l’eta — nanami kento.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.” He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU!;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Safe For Work (SFW), Age Difference (Reader is in early 20s, Nanami is in late 30s), Unrequited Romance, Falling In Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Comfort, Confession, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Loss, Letting Go, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Loneliness, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Age Gap;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i told myself this was going to be only five thousand words but it ends up being so long. i'm really sorry. you've been dealing with how long this is. but i love this a lot. i wrote it listening to the song with the same title as this fic and just as much, i think about that manga i read years ago, after the rain. its a good story and the ending, where the ml lets the fl lead go because he cares about her youth - it was great. i hope you like it anyway. thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

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if you want to, tip! <3

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A NEW BEGINNING MUST ALWAYS COME YOU THINK. As you settle into the quiet, unfamiliar countryside, the weight of the loss still clings to you. The days are filled with the sounds of nature—birds chirping, the rustle of leaves—but they feel muted compared to the life you left behind. The house is smaller, the town quieter, and everything around you seems to move at a slower pace. But inside, the grief swirls like a storm, refusing to be tamed by the peaceful surroundings.

Your beloved brother Yuuji, always so full of energy, has been quieter since the move. He’s trying to be strong, to put on a brave face for you, but you can see the sadness in his eyes. It was obvious, with how his smile never reaching his eyes like it usually does.

And it felt odd, it felt weird. You weren’t used to your brother being in this. And it hurts you. But you know that you didn’t know what to do to comfort him. You don’t want to drive him away by speaking to him about it. And you don’t want to hurt him by making him feel like you were overbearing either.

Your new house was still quiet. And you weren’t used to that either. Grandpa Wasuke’s voice would be ringing out through the house today, telling you both to go and start washing up so you could eat dinner. Or sometimes when you guys got home late because of sports practice, he would be too loud to scold you because you both forget to tell him that you were going home late and making him worried.

You miss your grandfather. And you were sure of Yuuji’s feelings being the same too. The silence was too loud, even between you and your brother. You wished it wasn’t. Because you were all you had now. One evening, as you both sit on the porch, the sky painted in the soft hues of sunset, Yuji breaks the silence.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he begins, his voice softer than usual. “Being here, without him."

"Yeah." You mumble under your breath. "It...it is."

Your brother lets out a soft sigh. "I thought moving away would help, but...”

He trails off, staring at the horizon, his usual spark dimmed by the weight of unimaginable grief. You nod, understanding exactly what he means. The move was supposed to be a new beginning, but it feels more like an escape that didn’t quite work. And yet, you were stuck. And so was he too.

“I miss him so much, you know?” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I thought...maybe if we came here, it wouldn’t hurt as much. But everything just reminds me of him. Even...even the silence......"

Yuuji looks at you, his lipspursed in a line. "I....I know."

"Grandpa’s voice is not here anymore and not hearing it anymore is just….” You feel the tears threatening to fall.

Yuuji turns to you, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. “We’ve still got each other. At least there’s that, sis.” he says, his hand reaching out to rest on yours. “And we’ll get through this. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but...we will.”

His words are simple, but they carry a weight of hope that you cling to. The grief might not vanish with a change of scenery, but at least you have Yuji by your side. And that, somehow, makes the pain a little more bearable.

The new town was picturesque—a small, idyllic place with rolling fields, charming cottages, and a slower pace of life that starkly contrasted with the frenetic energy of the city you had left behind. The local college, with its ivy-covered walls and quaint architecture, offered a promise of new beginnings and opportunities. Yet, beneath the serene surface, both you and Yuuji felt an underlying emptiness that was impossible to ignore.

As you and Yuuji navigated your first weeks at college, you found yourselves struggling to adapt to the quieter, more insular environment. The once-familiar hum of city life, with its constant activity and vibrant energy, was replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds. The silence of the countryside, while initially soothing, soon became a reminder of the profound solitude you both felt.

The college itself was a small, close-knit community, where everyone seemed to know each other. The interactions were friendly and the atmosphere warm, but the sense of being an outsider in this new world was palpable. The academic workload was manageable, but your focus was often fragmented by the persistent ache of grief. Classes that once might have been engaging felt distant and abstract, overshadowed by the weight of your personal loss.

Every corner of the town seemed to hold echoes of the life you had left behind. The quaint coffee shop that you frequented, with its rustic charm and homemade pastries, became a bittersweet reminder of the comfort you once had. The local park, with its winding paths and serene pond, offered moments of reflection but also highlighted the contrast between the peaceful surroundings and the turmoil within.

The routine of daily life was a constant struggle between embracing the new and mourning the past. Each day, you and Yuuji tried to immerse yourselves in your studies and social activities, hoping to find distraction and connection. Yet, despite your best efforts, the shadows of grief seemed to follow you, making it difficult to engage fully with the present.

Yuuji’s energy began to return with the arrival of new friends. He introduced you to them one day—Kugisaki Nobara, a fiery and confident girl with a sharp tongue, and Fushiguro Megumi, a quiet and serious boy who seemed to understand more than he let on. You watched as your brother slowly began to resemble his old self, the grief loosening its grip on him with each laugh he shared with them, each story he told.

There was a joy in his voice that you hadn’t heard in months, a tenderness in the way he spoke about his new friends, and it warmed your heart to see him healing. You felt truly happy for him—how could you not? He deserved this chance to move forward, to find light in the darkness.

And yet, a small, stubborn pain lodged itself in your chest, growing a little each day. You couldn’t help but notice the way you were falling behind. No matter how much you tried, the sorrow still clung to you, as if you were trapped in a place where time stood still, unable to reach the same place of healing that Yuji had found.

You tried to join in, to share in his happiness, but it felt like you were on the outside looking in, a spectator in your own life. The laughter that once came so easily to you now felt forced, and every smile was tinged with a sadness you couldn’t shake.

Yuuji didn’t notice—or maybe he did, but he didn’t know how to help. He was so caught up in his new friendships, in the joy of finally finding some semblance of normalcy, that your struggles seemed to fade into the background. You didn’t blame him for it; you were glad he had found something to hold onto. But the loneliness was there, a constant reminder that while he was moving forward, you were still stuck in the past, unable to move on.

A lot of this was on you—that much you were painfully aware of. Yuuji had nothing to do with your unhappiness; he had been nothing but supportive, trying his best to bring some light back into your life. No, it was you who clung to the sorrow, who let it seep into every corner of your being until it became a part of you. You were the one at fault, wallowing in the pain because it felt like the only way to hold on to the past.

Maybe, in some twisted way, you were punishing yourself. The guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you hadn’t been a good enough granddaughter, that you had failed him in some way. And the thought of moving on, of letting go of the grief, felt like a betrayal. Because if you forgot, if you let the pain fade, what would be left of your grandfather? Wouldn’t that mean he didn’t exist anymore?

You couldn’t bear the thought. He was all you and Yuuji had, the one who had raised you, who had been your anchor in a world that often felt too chaotic to navigate alone. Clinging to him, to the pain, to the loneliness he had left behind—it felt like the only way to keep him close, to make sure he wasn’t forgotten.

You knew it wasn’t healthy, that it was holding you back while Yuuji was moving forward. But you couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not when it felt like losing him all over again. So you held on, hoping that by keeping the pain alive, you could keep a part of him with you, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

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YOU REALIZED THAT YOU WERE A NIGHT OWL. Because the night felt like a relief. Even if it was too loud, the night was kinder than the day. It was two sides of the coin, a mercy and a pain still, you think. The silence of the countryside was both a comfort and a torment.

The absence of city noise left space for your thoughts to swirl, allowing the grief to settle in more deeply. The memories of your grandfather, so vivid and cherished, felt both near and painfully out of reach, teasing you with their closeness yet reminding you of the distance that now separated you.

The quiet of the countryside, which had once promised peace, now seemed to amplify the emptiness left by his passing. During the day, you could distract yourself with the mundane tasks of settling into a new home, but when night fell, the stillness felt oppressive, as if the world had stopped moving just to remind you of what you’d lost.

It was a strange paradox—the night brought a certain relief, a break from the pretense of normalcy that the day demanded, but it also intensified the ache within you. The darkness was both a sanctuary and a prison, offering solace in its quiet yet refusing to let you escape the sorrow that lay just beneath the surface. In the night, you could almost feel him there, his presence lingering in the shadows, but it was a comfort tinged with the sharp pain of knowing he was gone.

The countryside, with its vast, empty spaces and endless quiet, had a way of magnifying your loneliness. What was supposed to be a balm for your grief had instead become a mirror, reflecting the void his absence had created in your life. And so, as you lay in bed, staring into the darkness, you couldn’t help but feel that the night, though kinder in some ways, also held a cruelty of its own—one that forced you to confront the depth of your loss in the silence that surrounded you.

During the day, you tried to lose yourself in the routine of university life, hoping that the distraction would somehow ease the ache. But even the familiar rhythm of lectures and assignments couldn’t drown out the emptiness that had settled within you. It was in one of these moments, as you sat quietly in the college library, as he approached you after the lecture, his usual composed expression softened by concern.

“May I ask you something?” he said, his voice low and measured. There was no judgment in his tone, only a gentle curiosity that made you nod in response.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, his gaze steady on yours. “Why are you still in university?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t something you had given much thought to—not really. You had simply kept going, attending classes, completing assignments, because that’s what you were supposed to do. But now, confronted by professor Nanami Kento’s calm and earnest inquiry, you find yourself struggling to answer.

You hesitated, searching for words that didn’t come easily. “I don’t know, sensei.” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess... It's what I’ve always done. For relief….But I just….I don’t….”

Nanami nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “But is it what you want? To be here?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent. “Or are you here because it’s easier to keep going than to stop and face what you’re really feeling?”

The honesty in his words cut through the numbness that had settled over you. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze as the truth of his question sank in. Why were you still here? Was it because you truly wanted to be, or because it was easier to bury yourself in routine than to confront the grief that was still so raw and overwhelming?

“I don’t know, sensei.” you repeated, your voice trembling now. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

Nanami didn’t push you for more. Instead, he simply stood there, offering his presence as a quiet support. “It’s okay not to know anything.” he said after a moment. “It’s okay to take time to figure it out. But don’t be afraid to ask yourself these questions. Don’t be afraid to face what’s really going on inside.”

His words lingered with you long after he had left, echoing in the silence of your room that night. For the first time, you allowed yourself to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to pause, to question, to not have all the answers right away. Maybe it was okay to admit that you were still hurting, still lost, and that you didn’t have to have it all figured out just yet.

From what you remember, the first person to truly notice your pain was your professor in Philosophy—Nanami Kento. He was always composed, with a stern exterior that didn’t betray much emotion, but there was a kindness in his eyes that softened whenever he looked at you and Yuuji. Perhaps it was because he understood, on some level, what it was like to carry the burden of loss.

Nanami–sensei never pried, never asked questions that would force you to confront what you weren’t ready to face. But there was something in the way he looked at you, a quiet understanding that made you feel seen, even in your darkest moments. He didn’t offer empty words of comfort or try to tell you that things would get better with time. Instead, he acknowledged your pain with a simple nod or a gentle word, as if to say that it was okay to feel what you were feeling.

You often caught him watching you during lectures, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if he was trying to assess how you were holding up. He’d ask you how you were doing in a way that suggested he wasn’t just asking about your academic performance but about you as a person, as someone who was grieving. His presence was steady, a quiet anchor in the storm of emotions you were struggling to navigate.

In those moments, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Nanami didn’t try to fix you, didn’t push you to move on before you were ready. He simply let you exist in your pain, offering a silent understanding that you weren’t alone in it. And though it didn’t make the nights any easier or the grief any less suffocating, it was a small comfort to know that someone else understood, that someone else had been there too.

Somehow, it was easy to see in his eyes that he had gone through something similar, and that pained him in some way. And he hated that someone were to be in a position akin to yours, in a similar conundrum so young as you were. He took it upon himself to make sure you were both doing okay, often checking in on you, offering guidance, and making sure that neither of you felt alone.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window, illuminating the neat rows of books and papers that lined Nanami’s desk. The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room as you sat across from him, feeling the weight of your emotions as you tried to make sense of your new life.

“Nanami–sensei.” you began, your voice soft but determined, “I’ve noticed you’ve been going out of your way to check in on me. I appreciate it, really, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. You seem to understand what we’re going through in a way that’s more than just professional.”

Nanami looked up from his papers, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sadness. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before responding. “It’s not easy to see young people struggling with grief and loss. It brings back memories of my own experiences, of times when I had to navigate similar challenges.”

You frowned slightly, sensing the depth of his feelings. “You’ve been through something like this yourself?”

Nanami nodded, his expression reflecting the weight of past pain. “Yes. I’ve had my share of losses, and while each experience is unique, it is normal. Seeing you in such heavy burdens….I must help in that. It is my duty.”

A moment of silence passed between you, the gravity of his words settling over the room. You could see the empathy in his warm brown eyes, a deep well of understanding that went beyond mere sympathy.

“I didn’t realize you had experienced something like this, sensei.” you said quietly. “It’s comforting to know that you understand, but it’s also hard to see how much it affects you. I’m so sorry about what happened to you, sensei.”

Nanami’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “Please don’t worry. I don’t mind. And I try to keep my personal experiences separate from my role as a teacher, but sometimes it’s inevitable. I can’t help but empathize deeply with students who are struggling. If it helps you, then maybe it would make it easier on you.”

You nodded, appreciating the honesty and vulnerability he was showing. “It’s been hard for us to adjust, with everything that’s happened. I understand, sensei. But….. Your support has made a difference, even if we haven’t always known how to express it.”

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I want to make sure you and Yuuji know that you’re not alone in this. Sometimes, just knowing that someone cares and is willing to listen can make a difference.”

There was a sense of mutual understanding in the room, a connection forged through shared experiences and empathy. The conversation had brought a sense of clarity, revealing the depth of Nanami’s compassion and the personal struggles he had faced.

“You’ve been a source of support and I want to thank you for that.” you said, feeling a sense of gratitude. “It’s good to know that...we have someone. It's...good. That I...I have someone, sensei.”

Nanami’s expression was one of gentle encouragement. “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to or guidance as you navigate this transition, don’t hesitate to reach out. My door is always open.”

At first, it was just a relief to have someone looking out for you, someone who cared enough to notice the cracks in your armor. But as time went on, you found yourself longing for more of his attention, craving the comfort he provided. His presence was steady, reassuring, a shining new light that gave you warmth in the cold uncertainty of your new life.

Every glance, every word of encouragement, every moment spent with him, stirred something deep within you. You began to realize that it wasn’t just gratitude or respect that you felt for him. It was something more, something that made your heart race and your thoughts linger on him long after he had gone. You were falling in love with Nanami Kento, and as frightening as it was to acknowledge, it was also something you could no longer deny.

The realization that you were in love with Nanami Kento crept up on you slowly, like the dawn breaking over the quiet countryside. At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that it was just a fleeting infatuation born out of your need for comfort in a difficult time. But the more you tried to suppress those feelings, the stronger they became.

It started with the way your heart would skip a beat when he entered the room, the way your eyes would search for him in a crowd, hoping for just a brief moment of connection. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, cherishing the conversations you shared, no matter how brief. His calm demeanor, his quiet strength, the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask too many questions—it all drew you in, making you feel safe in a world that had felt so unstable for so long.

The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself yearning for his presence, even when he wasn’t around. You would replay your interactions in your mind, searching for hidden meanings in his words, wondering if he felt even a fraction of what you were feeling. The thought of being in love with him was both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear.

You knew it was risky, that opening your heart to someone else meant making yourself vulnerable again, something you weren’t sure you were ready for. But the warmth you felt in Nanami’s presence, the way he made you feel like you weren’t alone in your pain, was something you couldn’t ignore. And so, despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you allowed yourself to embrace the feelings growing inside you, no longer able to deny the truth: you were in love with Nanami Kento.

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IT FELT WRONG TO FEEL GENUINE FEELINGS FOR HIM. But you just can't help yourself. You had found something warm in your life for the first time in a long time. And you wanted to hold onto theat feeling, even just for a little while.

You found yourself looking forward to Nanami's lectures with a new sense of anticipation, one that went beyond the academic content. It wasn't just about the subject matter or the intellectual challenge; it was the way his presence seemed to anchor you in a world that often felt tumultuous.

His voice, calm and measured, had a soothing quality that cut through the noise of your internal struggles, providing a sense of stability that was both comforting and invigorating. It felt like the sun in the morning sky, greeting you with all the warmth it could offer.

Every lecture became a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the outside world faded away and all that remained was the rhythmic cadence of his speech and the depth of his insights. His voice had a way of wrapping around you like a soft blanket, offering warmth and clarity in moments of confusion. It was as if he spoke directly to your soul, providing the reassurance you craved without even realizing it.

You began to pay closer attention to the little details of his presence, each one becoming a part of the mosaic of your growing affection. You noticed how he always carried a thermos of coffee, a small but meaningful ritual that seemed to add a personal touch to his professional demeanor. It was a simple thing, but it spoke to a side of him that was both grounded and familiar, like a quiet reflection of his everyday life.

The way he adjusted his glasses when he was deep in thought fascinated you. It was a small, habitual gesture that seemed to signal his immersion in the subject, his focus and dedication to his work. In those moments, when he was lost in contemplation, you saw a different side of him—one that was entirely absorbed in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. It was a reminder of his depth, his passion for what he did, and it drew you in further.

And then there were the rare but genuine smiles that occasionally graced his lips. These smiles were not frequent, but when they appeared, they were like fleeting glimpses of sunlight breaking through the clouds. They were unguarded and sincere, revealing a side of him that was warm and approachable. These moments were precious to you, a sign that beneath his composed exterior, there was a person who experienced joy and kindness in the midst of his professional life.

Each detail, each nuance of his behavior, seemed to create a rich tapestry that captivated you. The combination of his voice, his habits, and his rare smiles painted a portrait of someone who was both steadfast and deeply human. As you became more attuned to these subtleties, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn't anticipated. The more you observed, the more you appreciated the intricate layers of his character, each one adding depth to your feelings and making it even harder to keep your emotions in check.

In the quiet moments between lectures, when you would reflect on these details, you felt a growing sense of connection to him. It was as if the little things he did were speaking directly to your heart, creating a bond that was both profound and fragile. And with each passing day, the realization that you were falling for him became more undeniable, a truth that both comforted and challenged you as you navigated the complexities of your emotions.

Each day with the distance, your heart kept making a way towards Nanami–sensei, slowly weaving themselves into the fabric of your life in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. You found yourself looking forward to his classes with an eagerness that surprised you, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of seeing him, hearing his voice, and perhaps catching one of those brief, meaningful glances that seemed to hold a world of unspoken understanding.

Your interactions with him took on a new significance. Every exchange, no matter how small, became a moment to savor. You began to notice the little things about him—the way he would adjust his tie with meticulous precision, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to you, the subtle way his lips would curve into a faint smile when you managed to make him laugh. These details became precious to you, feeding the growing affection in your heart.

But with that growing affection came a gnawing anxiety. You were all too aware of the delicate nature of your feelings, and the fear of rejection loomed large in your mind. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if your admiration was one-sided, a product of your own need for comfort and connection? The thought of losing the quiet understanding and support he offered terrified you, and so you kept your feelings hidden, tucked away in the quiet corners of your heart.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to keep your emotions in check, they found ways to surface. You noticed that you began to linger after class, hoping for a few extra moments with him. You found yourself volunteering for tasks you knew would require his guidance, just to have an excuse to be near him. And when he asked you how you were doing, his concern evident in his voice, you felt a pang of longing so intense it nearly took your breath away.

And then, one afternoon, as you were gathering your things after class, Nanami Kento and you bumped into each other. You blinked as you stopped. When you realized who he was, you gasped and bowed. You started to apologize to him. There was a hesitation in his movements, an uncharacteristic uncertainty that made your heart race.

“I’m so sorry, Nanami-sensei. I didn’t mean it—” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of unsaid words. The apology slipped out before you could fully process it, driven by a fear that you had somehow crossed a line, exposing too much of yourself.

Nanami’s expression remained calm, his eyes studying you with an unreadable intensity. For a moment, you feared that you had made things awkward, that the fragile connection between you might shatter under the pressure of your emotions.

But then, with a gentleness that both surprised and reassured you, he spoke. “May I walk you to your next class?” His voice was low and steady, grounding you in the moment. But there was something else in his tone, a subtle shift that hinted at a deeper concern, a connection that went beyond the formal boundaries of teacher and student.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. The offer was simple, yet the way he framed it made it feel like more—a gesture of care, a quiet acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you.

Unable to trust your voice, you nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Together, you fell into step, the silence between you heavy with unsaid thoughts, yet comforting in its familiarity.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder if Nanami sensed the turmoil within you, if he understood the depth of what you had tried to keep hidden. And as the campus buzzed quietly around you, the world outside seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a moment suspended in time.

Finally, he spoke, his voice breaking the silence with a gentleness that caught you off guard. “You seem... different lately.” he said, his words careful, as if he was treading on fragile ground. “Is everything alright?”

The concern in his voice was genuine, and it took everything in you to hold back the flood of emotions that his words triggered. You wanted to tell him everything, to pour out your heart and confess the feelings that had been building inside you for so long. But the fear held you back, kept your words locked away.

“I’m okay, sensei.” you managed to say, though your voice wavered with the effort of holding back. “It’s just... a lot to adjust to, I guess.”

He nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a question left unasked, and you wondered if he knew—if he could see the turmoil in your heart.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know.” he said after a moment, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Whatever it is you’re going through... you can talk to me.”

His words were a lifeline, and for a moment, you were tempted to grab hold, to let yourself be vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be since your grandfather’s passing. But the fear of what might happen if you did—if you let him see how deeply you had fallen for him—kept you silent.

Instead, you offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Nanami-sensei. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment longer before he looked away, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. But even as the silence returned, you couldn’t help but feel that something had changed between you.

Yuuji, ever the perceptive brother, began to pick up on the changes in you with his usual blend of curiosity and teasing. He’d comment on your newfound enthusiasm for school, his tone lighthearted and playful.

“Wow, someone’s really getting into their classes these days.” he’d say, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Are you trying to impress a certain someone?”

But behind his teasing, there was always a hint of concern in his eyes. He knew you well enough to sense when something was amiss, even if you were trying your best to mask it. The bond between you and Yuuji has always been strong, built on shared experiences and mutual support. Now, with only the two of you facing the world, his worry for you was palpable.

You were acutely aware of his concern, but discussing your feelings for Nanami–sensei felt like navigating a minefield. It was a topic too delicate, too intricate to lay bare. The emotions you were grappling with were still forming, shifting and evolving in ways you couldn’t fully articulate. The fear of misunderstanding, the potential for things to become awkward or strained, made it almost impossible to open up to Yuuji about it.

So you chose to keep your feelings close, wrapped in the quiet spaces of your heart. Whenever Yuuji’s concern for you surfaced, you would offer a reassuring smile and change the subject, deflecting his probing questions with practiced ease.

“Just trying to find my footing, bro.” you’d say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “You know how it is, trying to make the most of a new start.”

“You sure?” He asks you, a warm concern in his eyes.

You smiled at him. “I do. I’m fine. Really.”

Yuuji would accept your evasions with a nod, his worry temporarily set aside as he shifted his focus to lighter matters. But you could see the question in his eyes, the unspoken concern that lingered even as he attempted to mask it with humor.

In your heart, you appreciated his concern more than you could express. But the feelings you had for Nanami remained a private struggle, something you needed to work through on your own before you could even begin to share it with anyone, even Yuuji. For now, you hold onto the fragile hope that, in time, you would find a way to navigate your emotions, to understand them and perhaps, one day, to share them without fear.

As you continued to go through your days, the quiet moments with Nanami remained a solace and a source of intense longing. His presence in your life was a beacon, guiding you through the uncertainty of your new surroundings. And though you struggled with the weight of your feelings, you found a measure of comfort in knowing that he was there, a constant, reassuring presence in the midst of the turmoil.

Your interactions with Nanami–sensei became the highlights of your day. You’d catch his gaze during class, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. There were times when he’d linger after class, asking if you and Yuuji were settling in okay, if you needed anything. His concern felt genuine, and every time he spoke to you, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest.

But with that warmth came uncertainty. Nanami was your sensei, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a protector for you and your brother. The lines between student and teacher, between gratitude and affection, were blurring in ways that scared you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he could ever see you as anything more than just a student or a young person in need of guidance.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to him more and more, despite your best efforts to keep your emotions in check. There were moments when you thought you caught something in his eyes, a softness that made you wonder if he might feel something too. But those moments were fleeting, gone before you could fully grasp them.

Still, the longing grew, becoming an ache that you couldn’t ignore. You yearned for more than just his care and concern; you wanted to be closer to him, to know him beyond the walls of the classroom. But the fear of rejection, of ruining the fragile bond you had with him, kept you silent.

The conflict within you was a constant companion, as you tried to navigate your feelings while maintaining the façade of normalcy. You knew that falling in love with Nanami was risky, that it could lead to heartache, but your heart seemed to have a mind of its own, pushing you toward him despite the potential consequences.

You lingered in the classroom long after the other students had left, your movements slow and deliberate as you packed your bag. The quiet of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. Yuuji had already gone off to his club activities, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and with Nanami.

As you reached for your bag, you felt a pair of eyes on you, an almost tangible weight that drew your gaze. Glancing up, you saw Nanami watching you from his desk, his expression thoughtful, a subtle crease forming between his brows.

His eyes, usually so composed and distant, now held a depth that seemed to reflect his internal contemplation. The warmth of his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you felt like it had narrowed to just the two of you.

You could feel the pull of his attention, the way it lingered on you with a quiet intensity. It was as if he was searching for something, trying to understand a part of you that you hadn’t yet revealed. The weight of his gaze was both comforting and unnerving, a silent conversation that spoke volumes.

Trying to steady yourself, you offered him a tentative smile, hoping it would convey the reassurance you struggled to articulate. But his eyes remained fixed on you, and you wondered what thoughts were running through his mind.

“You’re still here this late.” he said, his voice gentle in the stillness. “Everything alright?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to put your feelings into words. “Yeah, I just… needed a moment to myself.”

Nanami nodded, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He stopped a few feet away, leaning casually against the desk beside you, his arms crossed. Despite his composed demeanor, there was something warm in his gaze, something that made your heart flutter.

“It’s been a lot to adjust to, hasn’t it?” he said, his voice low and steady. “A new town, new school, after everything that’s happened.”

You looked down, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your bag. “Yeah, it has. But… having you here has helped. More than you know, sensei.”

There was a pause, and when you dared to look up, you saw that his expression had softened even more. The usual sternness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a gentleness that made your breath catch.

“I’m glad I could help you.” Nanami replied quietly. He uncrossed his arms, his hand almost reaching out to you before he stopped himself, letting it fall to his side. “You have been through a lot. It’s only natural to need support.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. The way he spoke, the concern in his voice—it was all too much, and yet not enough. You wanted to say more, to tell him how much his presence meant to you, how much you looked forward to these moments alone with him. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

Nanami Kento seemed to sense your inner turmoil. He stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you know you can come to me, right?”

The sincerity in his voice, the closeness of his presence—it made something inside you ache. You wanted so badly to close the distance between you, to feel his arms around you, to find comfort in his embrace. But you knew you couldn’t. Not yet.

“I know, sensei.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Thank you… for everything.”

He smiled then, a small, rare smile that sent warmth flooding through you. “You don’t have to thank me. Just… take care of yourself. And your brother Yuuji, too. He seems like a good young man too.”

You nodded again, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him one last time. He was still watching you, that same gentle look in his eyes, and you knew then that your feelings were undeniable.

As you walked out of the classroom, your heart felt heavier with the weight of your unspoken emotions, but there was also a small, flickering hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Nanami could feel the same way.

But even then, you were acutely aware of your limitations and the vast knowledge gap that existed between you and Nanami. He was older, more experienced, a man who had seen and done so much more than you could even imagine. It wasn’t just his age or his wisdom that set him apart—it was the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence and a sense of purpose that you found both admirable and intimidating.

As much as you were drawn to him, a part of you couldn’t help but doubt whether your feelings could ever be returned. You were still so young, barely stepping into adulthood, while Nanami had long since found his place in the world. What could someone like him possibly see in you? The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a constant reminder of the distance between you.

And then there was the fear—the fear that he might not like you in the way you hoped. He was kind to you, yes, and he looked out for you and Yuuji with a care that went beyond mere duty. But did that kindness stem from affection, or was it simply his nature to protect those who needed it? You didn’t know, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

The truth was, you couldn’t see how he would ever reciprocate your feelings. He was your professor, a mentor figure, someone who had taken on the role of a guardian in your life. To him, you were just a student, someone who needed guidance and support, not a romantic partner. And yet, despite all your doubts and fears, you couldn’t stop the way your heart leapt whenever you were near him.

The rational part of you tried to suppress those feelings, to remind yourself of the unlikelihood of anything ever happening between you. But the heart has a way of ignoring logic, and yours had latched onto Nanami in a way that was becoming impossible to ignore. You were in love with him, even if you couldn’t say it aloud, even if you didn’t think he could ever feel the same way.

So, you kept those feelings locked away, hidden behind polite smiles and carefully chosen words. It was safer that way, less painful than risking rejection. But even as you tried to push your emotions aside, you knew that they were there, just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest opportunity to break free.

After a particularly long day of classes, you and Yuuji walked home together under the fading light of the setting sun. His friends were going to be busy tonight, so you were able to go home together. He insisted to help you with your school bag, but you kept insisting that it was fine. Yet, he was your older brother (by four minutes) and had pulled that card and carried your bag for you anyway.

The countryside was quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of gravel beneath your shoes and the distant chirping of crickets. Yuuji had been unusually quiet, and you could feel his eyes on you every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge something. Finally, as you neared your home, he spoke up.

"Hey, you’ve been acting kinda different lately." Yuuji said, his tone light but tinged with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You glanced at him, caught off guard by his sudden observation. "Different? What do you mean?"

Yuuji shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I don’t know. You just seem… I don’t know, distracted? Like your mind’s somewhere else. I noticed you’ve been staying late at school a lot too."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks and quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn’t notice. "It’s nothing, really. Just trying to keep up with everything, I guess."

But Yuuji wasn’t so easily convinced. He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "It’s more than that, isn’t it? You know you can talk to me, right? We’re in this together."

There was no escaping it now. You sighed, knowing that Yuuji wasn’t going to let this go. "It’s just… there’s a lot on my mind. And yeah, I’ve been thinking about someone."

Yuuji raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Someone? Like who?"

You hesitated, the words stuck in your throat. Finally, you admitted, "It’s Nanami-sensei."

Yuuji blinked, processing this information. "Nanami-sensei? Our professor Nanami? Who’s like… way older than you?"

You winced at the bluntness of his words. "Yeah, I know. It’s not exactly… ideal."

Yuuji softened, realizing that this was something you were struggling with. "Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all. I mean, he’s a good guy, but… you really like him, don’t you?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally saying it out loud. "I do. But it’s complicated, Yuuji. He’s older....and I don’t even know if he’d ever see me that way....I doubt it. I feel like I’m just setting myself up for disappointment. And it’s not…It’s not right. There’s so much wrong with it. I know.”

Yuuji frowned, deep in thought. "That’s a tough spot to be in. But you know, Nanami-sensei seems to care about you a lot. He’s always checking in on you, making sure you’re okay. Maybe there’s more there than you think."

You shook your head, the doubts creeping back in. "Or maybe he’s just being kind because he knows we’ve been through a lot. It’s not like he’d ever look at me the way I look at him. It’s….It’s wrong.”

Yuuji placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it doesn’t mean you’re not worth it. You deserve to feel some happiness. Even if you never say it to him. Even if you don’t act on it, it’s how you feel. Wrong or right, it’s still human feelings, isn’t it?”

“I just… What should I do? It’s going to be bad, Yuuji. I don’t want to do things that would be bad for me and especially for Nanami-sensei. Over my childish feelings.”

Yuuji’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and determination. “Listen, it’s not about being childish. Feelings are complicated and real, and they don’t just go away because we want them to. What matters is how you handle them.”

He paused, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe the best thing you can do right now is to take things one step at a time. Figure out what’s best without rushing or putting yourself in a difficult position."

You listened, trying to absorb his words. They offered a sense of perspective, a reminder that navigating your feelings didn’t have to be an all-or-nothing endeavor. Yuuji’s encouragement made you feel less isolated in your struggle, less like you were facing this alone.

“Thanks, bro.” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of both gratitude and the lingering uncertainty. “I guess I just need to give myself a bit more grace, and maybe, take a step back to really understand what’s best.”

Yuuji nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “Exactly. Give yourself the space to figure things out, and don’t be too hard on yourself. Emotions are messy, and that’s okay, hm?”

You looked at him, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Yuuji. I really needed to hear that."

He grinned, giving you a playful nudge. "What are brothers for? Besides, I kinda want to see how this turns out."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing slightly. For now, the future was still uncertain, but at least you knew you had Yuuji by your side, no matter what happened next. And maybe, he was all you needed. Because at the end of the day, you know how it will all work out. How it will all end. But you let yourself dream anyway.

You were idealistic, often finding yourself lost in daydreams where you would gather the courage to approach Nanami. In those fantasies, you imagined asking him for patience, telling him that one day, when the time was right, you would be ready to offer your love completely. You pictured yourself standing before him, your heart in your hands, promising that with time, you could bridge the gap between your worlds.

But deep down, you knew this was nothing more than romantic idealism—a longing to experience a love that felt as profound as the feelings you harbored for him. The desire to be seen, to be cherished by someone as steadfast and admirable as Nanami Kento, was powerful, but it was also grounded in a reality you couldn’t ignore.

As much as you wanted to believe that your love could transcend the differences between you, there was a part of you that understood the truth. You were too young, too inexperienced, and no matter how much you grew, there would always be a gap that time alone couldn’t close. Nanami–sensei wasn’t just older—he was wiser, more grounded, and had already lived through phases of life that you had yet to experience.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that he likely wouldn’t want to love someone younger, someone who was still finding their place in the world. His kindness toward you, his care and concern, came from a place of responsibility, not from the kind of romantic interest you wished for. You knew that he saw you as a student, maybe even as someone who needed guidance, but not as an equal partner in love.

This understanding brought with it a quiet, bittersweet resignation. You loved Nanami, perhaps more than you ever thought you could love anyone, but you knew that he wasn’t the one for you. The future you imagined, where you and Nanami could be together, was a beautiful dream, but it was just that—a dream.

As much as it hurt to admit, you knew you had to let go of that dream, to accept that some things, no matter how deeply you wished for them, weren’t meant to be.

The days that followed were a mix of emotions—moments where you felt determined to move on, followed by others where your heart clung stubbornly to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. But as time passed, reality became harder to ignore, and you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the truth.

You still admired Nanami–sensei, still cared for him deeply, but you began to see him in a different light. Instead of focusing on the impossible, you tried to appreciate what you did have—a mentor who genuinely cared for your well-being, someone who had guided you through a difficult period of your life. It wasn’t the romantic love you had dreamed of, but it was something valuable, something that had shaped you in ways you hadn’t fully understood before.

In your quieter moments, when you were alone with your thoughts, you allowed yourself to grieve the loss of that dream. It was painful to let go, but you knew it was necessary. Holding on to something that could never be would only cause more heartache in the long run.

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HE KNOWS THAT HE’S NOT A GOOD MAN. Because what good man can feel like this? Nanami Kento had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control, to keep a clear head no matter the situation. It was a skill honed through years of experience, of facing the harsh realities of life and coming out on the other side with a firm grip on his emotions. But lately, that control had begun to slip, and it all started with you.

At first, he dismissed the subtle changes in his behavior as nothing more than his natural inclination to look after those who needed guidance. You and Yuuji had been through a lot, and it was only right that he, as your teacher, offered support where he could. But as the days turned into weeks, he couldn’t ignore the way his thoughts kept drifting back to you—your quiet resilience, your gentle smiles, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about.

It wasn’t long before he realized the truth: he was growing attached to you in ways that went far beyond the boundaries of a student-teacher relationship. It was a realization that troubled him deeply, shaking the foundations of the discipline he had built his life upon.

Nanami noticed the way your eyes lingered on him, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever you were around him. He wasn’t blind to the affection you tried so hard to keep hidden, the way you seemed to seek out his presence, even if only for a few moments of conversation. There were times when he almost allowed himself to reciprocate, to let his guard down and acknowledge the feelings that were steadily growing in his chest.

But each time, he pulled back, reminding himself of the stark reality of your situation. You were young, with your whole life ahead of you, full of potential and promise. You deserve someone who could match your energy, someone who could grow with you, not someone like him—someone who had already been worn down by the world, who had seen and done things he wished he could forget.

It wasn’t fair to you, he thought, to burden you with the affections of a man who had lost his youth, who had seen too much to ever be truly carefree again. You deserved more than what he could offer, and the thought of tainting your bright future with the shadows of his past was unbearable.

So, Nanami Kento buried his feelings deep inside, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt you—or him. He told himself that it was the right thing to do, that maintaining a professional distance was the only way to protect you both. But no matter how hard he tried, those feelings remained, lurking just beneath the surface, ready to break free at the slightest provocation.

There were moments when he questioned his resolve, when the weight of his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But each time, he steeled himself, knowing that this was a line he couldn’t cross. He cared too much about you to allow himself to be selfish, to act on feelings that could only lead to pain and regret.

In the end, Nanami chose to distance himself, subtly at first, hoping you wouldn’t notice. He still checked in on you, still offered his guidance when you needed it, but he made sure to keep a barrier between you, a wall that kept his emotions firmly in check. It was agonizing, knowing that he was pushing away something that could have been beautiful, but he knew it was the only way to ensure that you remained unscathed by the harsh realities of his world.

You were too precious, too full of life, to be drawn into the darkness that he carried with him. And so, Nanami resolved to watch over you from afar, to be the steady presence you could rely on, but never more than that. It was his duty, his responsibility, to protect you—not just from the dangers of the world, but from himself as well.

No matter how much it hurt, no matter how strong his feelings for you became, Nanami knew he had to bury them deep, where they would never see the light of day. It was the only way to ensure that you remained untouched by the shadows of his past, free to find a love that was worthy of you, even if that love could never be his.

Nanami Kento had been wrestling with his emotions in solitude, believing that burying his feelings was the only way to protect you from the shadows of his past. It was a decision made with the utmost care, a sacrifice he felt necessary to ensure your happiness. But his internal struggle did not go unnoticed by his colleagues, Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri, who were perceptive enough to sense that something was troubling their friend.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day, Gojo and Shoko decided to check in on Nanami. They found him in the teachers’ lounge, sitting alone with a cup of tea, his expression distant. Gojo, ever the perceptive one, noted the pensive look on Nanami’s face and exchanged a glance with Shoko before approaching him.

“Hey, Nanami!” Gojo greeted, his tone casual but with an underlying concern. “You’ve been a bit off lately. Everything okay?”

Nanami looked up, masking his emotions with a practiced smile. “Just a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.”

Shoko, who had been quietly observing, took a seat beside him. “It’s clear something’s bothering you. You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

Nanami’s smile faltered, and he sighed deeply, feeling the weight of his hidden feelings press heavily on him. “I appreciate your concern. It’s just… some feelings are better left buried.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Feelings, huh? Sounds like there’s more to it than just a heavy workload.”

Nanami hesitated before speaking, his voice low. “I’ve been trying to protect someone from my own shortcomings. It’s not fair for them to be burdened with my past, my complexities.”

Shoko’s eyes softened with understanding. “It sounds like you’re talking about… someone important. Someone who means a lot to you.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze fixed on his tea. “Yes, someone who deserves better than what I can offer. It’s better this way.”

Gojo, always one to push boundaries, leaned forward, his expression serious. “Nanami, it’s okay to feel like love is unattainable. It’s okay to have feelings and to struggle with them. But don’t forget that you’re human too. You deserve happiness, even if it’s complicated. And even if you don’t act on it. Feeling it is not wrong.”

Shoko nodded in agreement, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been carrying this burden alone, trying to shield someone else from your own pain. But it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings, to give yourself permission to be vulnerable. Especially for this person.”

Nanami looked between them, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. “But what if my feelings could only cause more harm? What if being honest means jeopardizing their well-being? I know it will.”

Gojo shook his head, a small smile forming. “Sometimes, it’s not about whether your feelings will cause harm. It’s about being true to yourself and giving yourself the chance to experience what you deserve. Love isn’t always straightforward, and it’s not always fair. But it’s part of the human experience. Acted on or not, it’s what it is, isn’t it?”

Shoko reached out, placing a comforting hand on Nanami’s shoulder. “You’ve done so much for others. It’s time to think about yourself too. It’s okay to be vulnerable, to let yourself feel and to hope for something more, even if it feels unattainable.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he looked down at his hands, the weight of their words sinking in. “I’ve been so focused on protecting them, on making sure they don’t suffer because of me. I didn’t realize how much I’ve neglected my own needs.”

Gojo smiled, his tone light but encouraging. “We all have our struggles. It’s part of being human. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have friends who care about you, who want you to be happy.”

Shoko gave him a reassuring nod. “And it’s okay to take steps towards finding your own happiness, even if it means confronting difficult feelings. Even if you don’t think it will be reality. You deserve a chance to experience love, just as much as anyone else.”

Nanami took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Thank you. It’s good to hear that. I’ve been so focused on the right thing to do that I forgot about what I need.”

Nanami had been immersed in his work that day, focusing on grading papers and preparing for upcoming lectures. He had anticipated a quiet day, free from the usual flurry of students and administrative tasks. It was your day off from school—a rare break for you to focus on your thesis, and he had expected you to be busy with your academic responsibilities.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, Nanami couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had noticed a subtle change in your demeanor over the past week, an undercurrent of sadness that was difficult to ignore. He had hoped you’d find solace in your time away from school, but now, the thought of you potentially seeking him out was unsettling.

When he heard the knock on his office door, he glanced up with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He wasn’t expecting you to be here today, not when you had so much on your plate. The sound of the knock was soft but persistent, and it made him pause, his thoughts drifting from his work to the possibility of seeing you.

You stood outside his office, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. The past week had been particularly rough—filled with long nights and overwhelming emotions. The weight of your feelings for Nanami, combined with the challenge of coming to terms with them, had left you feeling both vulnerable and resolute. You had been wrestling with your emotions, trying to find a way to move forward, but it was proving more difficult than you had anticipated.

The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only sound that accompanied your thoughts. You had wrestled with the decision to come here, weighing the need for closure against the fear of complicating things further. Yet, the idea of not expressing your feelings and finding some resolution gnawed at you, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to face the uncertainty head-on. You lifted your hand and knocked again, this time with more resolve. The sound echoed through the hallway, signaling your intent to have a conversation that had been on your mind for days.

Inside the office, Nanami’s thoughts were interrupted by the knock. He stood up, smoothing his jacket, and approached the door. When he opened it, he was met with the sight of you standing there, looking both determined and apprehensive.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm despite the surprise and concern he felt.

You looked up at him, a mix of anxiety and resolve in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I know it’s my day off, but… I needed to talk to you.”

Nanami stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter. “Of course. Come in.”

You entered his office, feeling the comforting, yet intimidating, presence of the space that had been a backdrop to many of your interactions. The room was orderly, with neatly arranged papers and a sense of calm that contrasted with the storm of emotions you were feeling.

As you settled into a chair, Nanami took his place behind his desk, his gaze steady and attentive. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing against your resolve. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you. It’s been difficult to process, and I realized that I need some closure. I thought it might help if I talked to you about it.”

Nanami listened, his expression a mix of empathy and sadness. He had been preparing for this conversation, though not in the way he had hoped. The feelings he had tried so hard to suppress now seemed to rise to the surface, as he saw the vulnerability in your eyes.

“It’s not easy to hear.” Nanami said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “And it’s even harder to find the right words. I’ve been trying to navigate this situation carefully, but I realize now that you deserve more than just silence.”

You looked up at him, finding his smile to be tinged with a deep sadness that made your heart ache. Nanami crossed his arms, his gaze meeting yours with a weight of unspoken emotions.

“Most of all, my little one….” he continued, his voice steady but filled with a profound melancholy. “You deserve better than an old, unpassionate man like me.”

The words hung in the air between you, a painful truth that cut through the space. His admission, though gentle, was laced with a somber acknowledgment of the reality that had become so clear. It was as if he was trying to shield you from the hurt of unfulfilled expectations while grappling with his own feelings of inadequacy.

You could see the strain in his eyes, the conflict of wanting to comfort you while also maintaining the boundaries he felt were necessary. It was a moment of raw honesty, one that left you with a deep sense of both empathy and sorrow.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nanami's words settled between you. His gaze remained steady, but there was an undeniable vulnerability in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that had become apparent.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on you. “I didn’t come here expecting an easy answer, or my feelings to be returned, sensei.” you said softly, trying to steady your voice. “I just needed to express what I’ve been feeling and to understand where we stand.”

Nanami nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and sadness. “I appreciate your courage in coming forward. It’s not easy to confront these feelings, especially when the outcome is uncertain.”

There was a pause as you both took a moment to absorb the gravity of the conversation. Nanami leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk as if trying to ground himself in the face of his emotions.

“I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. Even if they're not what should be. But I also understand that the situation we’re in is far from ideal. It’s not just about what I want but what’s best for you. What you need matters more than what I want.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill. “I understand. I really do. It’s just… hard to accept that something so strong and real can’t find a way to work out.”

Nanami’s gaze softened, and he reached out, resting his hand gently on top of yours. The contact was brief but comforting, a silent gesture of support and understanding.

“It’s difficult, and it’s painful. But sometimes, love means making choices that are hard and painful for the sake of someone else’s well–being. Love is letting go, too. And I believe that’s what I need to do now. Because if my love for you is true, then I would let you go. And let you live a life that you deserve, hm?”

You nodded, feeling the sting of his words but also the clarity they brought. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed to hear this, to understand where we really stand. To…to have closure.”

Nanami offered a sad smile, one that seemed to carry the weight of his own regrets and hopes for you. “I hope you find someone who can truly cherish you for who you are. You deserve someone who can give you the kind of love and support that I might not be able to offer.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, and you could sense the depth of his feelings—both for you and the situation you found yourselves in. As you stood up to leave, you felt a sense of bittersweet closure, a recognition of the reality that had to be faced.

“Take care of yourself, little one.” Nanami said softly as you made your way to the door. ”I hope you'll always be happy."

You offered him a small, grateful smile, a mixture of sadness and appreciation in your eyes. “Thank you, Nanami–sensei. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you stepped out of his office, the weight of the conversation settled heavily on your shoulders. But along with the heaviness, there was also a sense of resolution. You had faced your feelings head-on, and though the outcome wasn’t what you had hoped for, you felt a renewed sense of clarity and a readiness to move forward.

Nanami Kento watched you go, his heart heavy but his mind clear. He hoped, more than anything, that you would find the happiness and love that you deserved, even if it was not with him. He'd have to leave soon. He thinks that it would be better, if he keeps his distance from now on. You do not need him anymore. And that's for the best.

And as the door closed behind you, he allowed himself a moment of reflection, grappling with the bittersweet nature of his own emotions and the hope that, in time, both of you would find a path that led to fulfillment and peace.

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lionneee · 4 months ago

Text

Behind the cameras

Modern!Actor!Aemond x Modern!Actress!Reader

{Request: hello dear!! i'm very happy that requests are open and i was wondering if i could write my idea if it wouldn't be a bother. i had thought of a modern actor aemond × reader. the two are co stars in a period drama full of intrigue and suspense (like the borgias or the tudors) , reader plays an ambitious and powerful woman and has aemond (the character he plays) tied to her finger, the two have a lot of chemistry and in fact aemond constantly suggests adding more kissing or sex scenes with reader despite already having several scenes like this. in the scenes where they kiss he always tries to deepen the kiss and prolong it (despite it not being in the script) and once while they were shooting a sex scene she felt his erection on her leg. feel free to adapt it to your will ❤️❤️}

You completely forgot yourself, everytime they called ‘Action!’. Of course, it was fondamental for an actor to forget itself completely, and just get in the skin of the character. It was something that always came easy for you.

Sometimes it was more difficult to get out of character.

To define the line between yourself and the characters you played.

“We should kiss right there. After your character insults mine, that would be perfect.” Aemond said as you read the script together.

“Uh, sure, yeah, that would be great.”

“It would show just how much he pents from your lips, how much he’s ready to give everything for you.” He explained as he looked at you straight in the eyes.You nodded as you looked back at him.

“Yeah, that he’s weak for her.”

That I’m weak for you.

“Exactly. Not even the worst humiliation could tear him away from her.” Aemond agreed.

So you took a deep breath as you stayed in position on the set, your dress a long, blue, beautiful gown, with a squared low cleavage, the corset tight around your torso, pushing up your chest, making it almost spill from the gown.

It had been a long day, and you were about to shoot a simple scene, actually, where Aemond’s character came into your chambers all angry and jealous because your character chose to marry his character’s opponent.

Easy, fast, simple.

You simply had to act all cocky and confident, then kiss him in the end.

“Action!”

You took the goblet from the table, taking a long sip from the juice, and you wished so much it was real wine.

“You chose him?” Aemond stormed in your chambers, his hair moved back with a low ponytail, his expression one of rage and pain, betrayal.

He was such a good actor.

You were happy to work with him, really.

You looked at him from over your shoulder, nonchalant.

“Yeah, obviously. He’s more rich, he loves to travel–”

“He loves to travel.” He laughed bitterly. “Is that what you wish for? A lonely life?” He walked closer, standing right behind you, his face right over your shoulder.

“But I wouldn’t be alone, would I, my Lord?” You glanced up at him, your eyes big with the sweetest gaze you could manage. You saw him looking at your face, studying your features as you felt his breath hitching. “You would never leave me alone…” You let yourself lean back against his chest, feeling his body stiffen at your closeness.

It was all part of the scene.

“Of course not, my Lady.” He answered, you knew he was clenching his jaw by the way he spoke. “I could never.” He admitted with a softer tone.

“That’s right.” You turned around, facing him. You smiled, looking at him as he stared at you. You caressed his face with the back of your fingers.

“Such a pretty boy… acting like my dog.” You dropped your hand, walked around the table, took back your goblet as you reached the writing table, opened the drawer to take out a piece of paper, you took the pen and tinted in the ink.

“He’s rich, he’ll provide me with everything.” You quickly wrote on the piece of paper, then folded and sigilled it. “He’s got a big mansion, big gardens all around it.” You turned back around to look at him, raised your hand, the folded letter between your fingers.

“You’ll come to see me?” You raised your eyebrow. He walked closer, carefully, as if he was walking on glass shards.

“You’ll be married.” He stated.

“And?”

He took the piece of letter from your hand, and hit it in his pants pocket.

“Yes. I’ll come to see you.” He looked down, as if ashamed of his statement. You walked closer, putting a hand on his cheeks to raise his head, so he looked back at you.

He looked at you, his gaze hard, but you could see the affection.

It felt so real.

He suddenly leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back, as he moved his hand on the back of your neck, drawing you closer to him.

It was supposed to be an easy kiss, then the camera would have moved away, and the director would have called ‘Cut’.

But when you felt his tongue darting out, you gasped in surprise.

You pulled slightly away, enough to look at him for a moment, then he quickly pulled you back, deepening the kiss, invading your mouth with his tongue, that met yours in a furious dance.

He moved his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, as he leaned down, his tongue moving deeper in your mouth.

Then you felt it.

Against your pubic bone, solid and prominent.

He was hard.

You had to restrain yourself from moaning.

“Cut!” You heard the yell, and you pulled away from him, looking at him with a hint of frustration, confusion and lust.

He looked at you for a moment, then he moved to the side, looking at the table, as if it was the most important thing in the world.

He moved to the side, so he would be having his back facing the crew.

So that the bulge you felt against you, was hidden from everyone.

“That was great, guys.” The director said as he gave you his thumbs up. You smiled and nodded, glancing back at Aemond only when you saw him standing up to leave, to prepare the next scene. “You are free to leave, have a good night.” The director said then.

You saw him turning his head to the side, his eye looking briefly at you. You immediately looked down, and raised your gown to move in your dressing room.

That had been the weirdest day you’ve ever had at work. Surely he was thinking of someone else.

His girlfriend perhaps.

You groaned, somehow disliking the idea as you kept rubbing the sponge on your body, enjoying your cold shower.

His eye full of lust as he kissed you.

The feeling of his tongue against yours.

He was a good kisser.

You whined at yourself, annoyed at not being able to forget that damn scene.

You threw the sponge away, and quickly did your shampoo, washing all the soap off your hair and body. You sighed as you leaned your head back, enjoying how the water hit your head.

His bulge against you.

You whimpered at the thought, your hand moving shamelessly between your thighs.

The way he breathed between a kiss and another.

You pressed your lips together as you tentatively circled your clit.

How his tongue moved in your mouth.

“Fuck—“ You whispered as you put your hand in the wall, your hand moving faster on your core.

How hot his body was.

So hard against yours.

How he pulled you closer, how his arm held you tightly against his body.

How his cock rubbed against you.

How the the doorbell rang

The doorbell?!

“Fuck.” You groaned as you moved your hand away from yourself, washing it under the shower, grabbing a towel to quickly dry yourself enough to slip in your oversized shirt, panties and some sweatpants.

“I’m coming!” You yelled as you sighed, running towards the door as you finished to pull up your pants, the doorbell ringing again.

“I said I’m com—“ You stopped mid sentence as you opened the door, finding no one but him.

Of fucking course.

Just when you were touching yourself at the thought of him.

He must have taken a shower too, you could smell his scent, clean.

“Aemond.” You said, surprised.

“Hey…” He smiled slightly. “Can I come in?” He asked politely.

“Uhm… yeah, sure…” You took a step back, giving him the space to walk inside.

Leather jacket, black t-shirt and black jeans.

Emo.

“Can I offer you something?” You asked as you started walking toward the kitchen, prompting him to follow you.

“Mh, no thanks…” He mumbled as he followed you, looking around himself.

“Nice apartment.” He simply commented.

“Thanks.” You got into the kitchen, and you grabbed a glass of water for yourself. “So… what brings you here?” You asked, clearly unease. He looked at you, as he started talking, rubbing the back of his head.

“Today's scene was-“ You immediately interrupted him.

“Tomorrow I’ll be shooting with Cregan anyway, so we can look at our future scenes tomorrow.” You stuttered quickly, trying to avoid ’his cock’ argument as much as possible.

Especially after what you almost did in the shower.

“I’ve interrupted you?” He asked, he raised his hand to point at your wet hair, but you kept your eyes on the floor, not understanding what he truly meant.

“Well, yeah— I-I mean, I interrupted you, but in fact you did it even before I did, so I guess it makes it fair that I inter—“ You looked up at him, seeing his hand still in the air, his finger pointing at your hair.

“I meant your shower.” He stopped you with an amused smile.

“Oh, yeah… Uhm… No, I-I was finished.” You nodded your head to accentuate your words.

“Yeah… but what did you say?” He asked, stepping forward as he tilted his head on the side, his expression confused, but he smiled amused. You pushed yourself closer to the counter.

“What did I say?” You repeated, genuinely confused, barely remembering the words you stuttered only a moment ago.

“I interrupted you before you interrupted me. If you had finished your shower… What have I interrupted?” He smirked as he kept getting closer.

“Nothing.” You answered, perhaps too quickly to be believed.

“Nothing? Mhh…” He shook his head slightly, externalizing his doubts, as he got right in front of you, his hand moving a strand of wet hair out of your face. “I don’t believe you.” He whispered. You looked up at him, speechless.

“Were you thinking of me, in the shower, my Lady?” He smirked as he pushed his body against yours, trapping you against the counter. “Were you thinking of what… you felt?” He spoke the last two words with malice as he rubbed his hips against yours, enough to make you aware of his presence. You had to bite your lip to not let out any sounds, considering how wet you were from what you were doing in the shower, and how much he was succeeding in turning you on.

His body felt so hard and hot, and despite you two having multiple romantic scenes together, now this particular fact was making your head spin, worderining about how much he would feel good against you.

“Absolutely not.” You breathed out as you leaned back, trying to put some distance between you two.

He was your coworker.

“No? Don’t lie to me. You know better than that, don’t you?” His smirk turned into something that looked more sinister, his condescending tone making your face flush with a hint of shame. He grabbed your cheeks in his hand, pulling your face millimeters from his.

“So?” He looked down at you. “Were you thinking of me?” He asked again as he let his other hand move your hair behind your shoulders, then trailing it over your clavicle. “While you stood naked…” His fingers trace the edge of your bra. “Wet…” He passed his hand over your breast, pressing his fingers on your stern. “Touching yourself, even?” He whispered, letting his hand linger over the waistband of your pants, looking deeply at you, giving you a moment to protest.

You did’t.

He slipped his hand under your pants as panties, moving down until he found your wetness.

You couldn’t.

“Christ you’re so wet…” He grunted as he started circling his fingers over your pearl, spreading your wetness.

Not when you craved him this much.

You moved your hand to his jacket, pulling him down to kiss you. You were used to having the lead when it came to him, since his character was always so ready to submit to yours.

So you gasped more loudly than you’d like to admit when you suddenly felt two of his fingers entering you, burying themself knuckle deep. You threw your head back at the sensation, but he quickly pulled you back up with a hand behind your head, looking closely at you as you arched your eyebrows and opened your mouth the moment he started moving his fingers inside you,crooking them, rubbing your walls with an intense rhythm.

“Oh– Oh God– Aemond–” You panted as you looked back at him. You can see his gaze hungry, full of lust as he drinked in your expression of pure pleasure.

“Is this what you’ve been doin in the shower, mh?” He looks down at your lips. “Thinking of me?” Your face flushed red in embarrassment, making him chuckle.

“Shh, it’s okay… I’ve thought about you too–” He grins as he slowly starts rocking his hips on your leg, his bulge evident.

You looked at him, surprised.

He has thought about you too.

“W-wha- ah!” You moaned again as he found the right spot inside you, the spot that made your legs tremble.

“Oh, my silly, silly girl…” He bent down his head to kiss the skin right behind your ear. “You thought that all those kissing on set was just work?” He chuckles softly in your ear.

You turn your head to look at him, stunned.

“A kiss would be perfect right after that.”

“I think they should kiss now, a heated, deep kiss.”

“What do you think about a kiss here? Their bodies pressed together as they pull each other closer.”

“You’ve been a thunderstorm from the first day–” He groaned in your ear. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you–” He pushed his nose against your cheek, his fingers never relenting, never stopping on rubbing the same spot inside you, building your climax faster than what you'd expected, his words sending shivers down your body. “I could never get enough of you– That mouth of yours– This body–” He looked down at you, pulling down your sweatpants and underwear in one move, enough to see his fingers being sucked in. “No one will call ‘Cut’ here, baby. I’m gonna take what I want from you now.” He looked back at you, his eye locking with yours. “And you…” He pressed his fingers more firmly, making you moan and clench around his fingers. You had to put your hands on his shoulders, feeling your orgasm about to get you. “... are going to enjoy every single second of it.” You moaned loudly, your walls spasming as your orgasm washes over you, waves of pleasure running over your body as you gripped his shoulders tighter, clinging to him to not fall back.

“Oh, she’s pretty when she comes…” He hummed as he put his hand on your cheek, withdrawing his fingers from you. He looked directly at you as he brought his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“You’re definitely my favorite meal.” He smirked as he put his hands unger your thighs, hoisting you up the counter. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of your pants, pulling them off completely along with your panties.

You found yourself able to do much, if not looking at him in awe as he unbuttoned his jeans and took off his jacket.

“Your shirt too.” You said without thinking twice, but turning red tomato when he raised his gaze at you, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah? You want to see me, baby?” He chuckled as he pulled off his pants, the bulge of his hard cock well visible from his boxers. Instead of removing his own shirt, he moved his hands on the hem of yours.

“I’m only being fair, you know?” He laughed as he removed your shirt, his following soon after. You both lock your eyes on the other’s chest.

You knew Aemond had a well built figure, but you didn’t expect… this.

He was beautiful.

He was damn hot.

And basing from the smirk on his face, he was even well aware of it.

“That corset…” He grunts as he steps closer again, his hardness pressing directly on your core. “You felt what it did to me.” He moved his hand up your breast, palming it freely, as your breath hitched. “If you’d seen… the things it made me do…” He looked up at you. “When I closed myself in my dressing room…” He whispered.

“Aemond…” You moved your hands from your chest to his face. “Fuck me.” Even if it was supposed to sound like an order, it came out like a pitiful whine, that made his smirk grow even wider.

“So demanding…” He caressed your cheek, his hand pressed on the counter beside your thigh. “But you have to ask for it better than that, baby…”

He said with a hint of arrogance, but what unphased you more was the dominance in his voice.

“W-what?” You mumbled as you looked at him, confused.

“Beg for it. Beg me to fuck you.” He repeated more firmly, his face turning serious.

You’ve never begged a guy.

“No.” You shook your head, incredulous that he even thought that you would do something like that.

“Oh, so you don’t want it?” He put a hand on his crotch, squeezing it.

Oh, Gods…

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to let the words come out of your mouth.

“Please.” You muttered, your embarrassment only growing more. His chuckle at your lame attempt did not help at all.

“Mhh…” He looked at your core, passing his fingers over your entrance, making you gasp. “Maybe you need some encouragement?” You watched closely every single movement he did. He stepped back, pulling down his boxers.

Holy God.

And every other Gods that might exist.

You surely had one in front of you, because that cock…

Your mouth watered as you saw him shamelessly discard his boxers, his hand starting to jerk himself.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You mumbled, your eyes did not move from the sight of his hard rock cock, long, pale and veiny.

Perfect.

“I’m giving you some encouragement. Ready to beg?” He smirked. You shook your head.

“I’m not going to beg.” You repeated.

No way.

“I think you got too accustomed to my character, you know?” He chuckled, even if he interrupted himself with a moan, as he jerked himself faster. “If— you want something from me— here. You have to beg for it.”

You kept watching him, it was stronger than you, you really couldn’t help it.

Not when he looked that good pleasuring himself.

You wished it was you.

“Aemond…” You whined as you bit your lower lip.

“You know what to do, baby.” He simply answered, moaning again.

You feared he would make himself come alone.

You had to act quickly.

“Please.” You say a bit more desperately. “Please fuck me… I-I need it… I want to feel you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, please! I’m begging you!” You cried out. He stopped his hand, moving close to you again. He looked down at you, smiling at the wetness that covered your core as he aligned his tip with your entrance. He looked back at you.

“If you begged me like this for everything—“ He pushed in in one swift move, filling you completely, even too much, as you let out a loud groan. “—I would give you the world.”

He slowly pulls out, almost to the tip, before thrusting in again, hard enough to make you move back on the counter.

“Fuck—“ You moaned as you leaned back on your hands behind you. “You’re too big— Aemond…” You cried out, looking down at his cock stretching you painfully.

“Shh, shh… You’ll feel good, you just have to relax.

He moved in and out slightly, slowly, as his thumb circled your pearl, enough to make you relax and forget the pain. You breathed deeply as soon the uncomfortable sting started to feel a pleasurable stretch.

Not only did he have a beautiful cock, apparently, he also knew how to use it.

“I want you to feel me…” He grunted as he pushed his hand on your stomach. “Right here—“ He growled as he delivered another hard thrust. You moaned loudly as you could swear, you felt him there.

“Aemond—“ You breathed out, looking at his face. He looked up from your stomach, his eyes turning more tender.

But that lasted only a few seconds, before he started picking up the pace, the harshness of his thrusts never relenting.

“Oh fuck—“ You moaned as you let your head hang back, closing your eyes shut as you felt him so deep, you feared he could pinch your stomach for real.

“That’s right baby… That’s it, wet my cock—“ He moaned as he started thrusting faster, changing his angle to find the same spot he rubbed with his fingers.

He knew he got it when you suddenly straightened up, and wrapped your arm around his neck.

“Fuck! Fuck! Oh— Ah! Aemond!” You didn’t even mind to control your volume, any attempt would have been in vain anyway.

He just felt so good.

“This pussy was made for me— Only me, baby—“ He growled as he wrapped a hand around your neck, pulling your face closer to his. “So tight— So fucking tight and wet— So good…” He grunted as he kept moving, every thrust calculated and harsh.

“I want to feel you come around me. I want you to soak my cock, baby.”

“Oh— Aemond—“ You moaned loudly at his words, clenching around him. He growled as he could feel your wet walls tightening around him, squeezing him so sweetly.

“You want me to touch you again, baby? Make you feel good?”

“Yes! Please— please, please!” You whined loudly, making him chuckle at your plea.

“Oh, she learned, uh? Such a good girl she is— Fuck-“ He moaned as he felt you clenching again, and again, then once again. “Yes that’s it, come baby— Come for me, say my name.”

“Oh, fuck! A-Aemond!” You almost screamed, but you couldn’t care less, not when your orgasm was about to hit you so hard, like you’ve never had before. Waves of pure pleasure ran all over your body, your mind disconnecting completely from the world, as if you felt in heaven for a moment. Your jaw went slack as you let out a long sound of pure pleasure.

“Yes, baby- Yes!” He moaned. “I’m gonna come— where?” he panted with the last bit of restrain he still had, despite the wonderful feeling that you cunt was giving him, sucking him in and squeezing him like a vice.

“Not inside— I’m not on—“

“Fuck!” He quickly pulled out, jerking himself again right in front of you, you could see his muscles clench, his breathing ragged as his sperm spilled on your stomach and his hand, coming with a low moan.

He sighed deeply as he clenched his hands into fists, leaning on the counter, his hands pressed against the surface beside your thighs.

“You…” He looked up at you, his expression one of satisfaction and tiredness. “You’re mine now.”

You didn’t think twice before nodding. Pulling you closer to kiss him deeply.

Acting would have come way more easier like this.

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scribs-dibs · 3 days ago

Text

so weak!

modern au, neuvillette x gn! reader, vv fluffy, written in the summer, very silly & unserious <3

wc ; ~4.5k

listened to weak by swv if you couldn't tell 🔥🔥

"it's not a phase i want you to stay with me"

To say you are fond of your new neighbor would be the understatement of the century.

Your hands are covered in a thin film of flour and yeast, and it’s a blessing that your fingers can work with just muscle memory as you knead. Your mind is elsewhere, filled to the brim with thoughts of Neuvillette. It’s not your fault, really. Anyone would be taken by him; he is unfairly, nearly inhumanly pretty. Long, fair hair and strong cheekbones, a pointed nose with a rounded bridge that leads into stunning multicolored eyes. You’d seen pretty people in magazines and movies before, of course– but seeing him in the flesh, without makeup or filters or special lighting had them all immediately paling in comparison. And the worst part? Neuvillette is one of the kindest souls you’d ever met.

If asked, you would blame the hot summer sun for the sweat that had built on top of your brow. But you were nervous. You’d gotten over most of your fears when moving into a new town, (thanks to your neighbors greeting you with a kindness warm enough to melt the coldest winters) but then, standing before the grand, white wooden door of the new stranger’s home, you had felt every blood vessel pump with anxiety. And you weren't quite sure why, either. Drawing near the door seemed to make air feel heavy in your lungs, with each step seemingly bringing you closer to your doom. You swallowed. And then you knocked.

You can't tell if you wanted to thank your past self for pushing through, or curse them for giving you your current problem.

It was not Neuvillette who had answered the door. Instead, it was a creature named Elphane— a melusine. It was a surprise, to see someone inhuman and fuzzy, but she greeted you with such goodwill you would be remiss to not do the same. The one behind her was the issue. The looming, fierce presence that stood protectively at her back, and piercing holes into your skin as he watched you. Your nerves came back to you in a rush.

It was a gift, from whatever archon was watching over you, that your meeting went without a hitch. Despite how frightened you were, Neuvillette's concerned, cool gaze melted into something softer once pleasantries were out of the way. You owe it all to your offering— a quaint and humble apple pie.

Baking was a hobby you had taken up earlier into your move. You would not describe it as the easiest thing you've done, but it does serve to ground you. To put your worries into precise measurements and knead them into dough, and then have a result that leads into something edible. Not to mention, it makes your neighbors adore you, newly-moved melusines included. And of course, you adore them too. It's their guardian that's a problem.

Neuvillette has consumed the better part of most of your waking days. You come back from work, and it is his clear multicolored eyes who greet you over the fence. They form the shape of crescents when he smiles, faint and polite, like fresh spring water. You're weak in the knees.

It is him who knocks on your door on occasion, pale skin slightly flushed as he offers you produce from his garden.

"To repay your earlier kindness," He'll say, and his voice is so rich and silky it feels as if it curls around you like a blanket. You're weak in the knees.

It is his daughters(?) that tell you what he says behind closed doors—

"Neuvillette used to dislike sweets. But he always smiles when he tries your food. Says it takes a special talent to make sweets this good. Can you make more for him?" Verenata asked you one day, teal paws cupping several macrons, "And more for me?"

You're weak.

When you're done kneading and yearning, you leave your dough covered so it can rest. You are too hyper to do the same. Out the window, the sinking sun paints the sky in warm shades of pink. Summer nights are much cooler now, such is the gift of August taking its leave.

Stepping outside gifts you with the gentle kiss of fresh air. Your small porch is one of your favorite parts of your home. When you were little, you had often wondered why it was older people sat outside and did nothing but stare out into the world above. Now older and wiser, you can understand it. It's peaceful— you could sit out here for hours and watch the sky change to reveal the stars. If not for the mosquitoes.

You sit on the second-lowest step, staring up at the softly drifting clouds and noting their different shapes. This one is similar to Ottnit's horns-- it curls around itself in a spiral. That one looks like a pancake; you wonder if you still have a box of pancake-mix in the back of your cupboard still. You wonder if you have the guts to invite Neuvillette over for breakfa—

No.

This bubbling crush is getting ridiculous. You don't even know him that well-- even though you desperately want to. You can imagine it now: the plush of his lips falling open as you ask the question, his head tilted and his pointed ears twitching (a feature that makes you wonder if the melusines aren't the only ones who aren't human, but that'd be ridiculous), before he politely refuses you. He's a busy man— at least you think him to be, because he's always hard at work. You don't know how he manages to keep such a bountiful garden so nicely kept when he is always working such long hours. On more than one occasion, you've caught him tending to it in the rain. A hard worker. A kind heart. He makes your own kick wildly in the confines of your chest.

The sky has turned more purple now, ink blotting the blush-tinted sky. Faintly, you can see the stars. Bright like those eyes of his. Like the ones that stare at you as you sit on your porch.

You nearly jump out of your skin.

And you wish you had it in you to scream at him for the scare, but he looks just as startled as you do.

He now looks at you in awe, like you've grown a second head, before he collects himself. Before you know it his demeanor is back, calm as quiet waters.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you."

And you hate him a little bit for that, too. The voice that you have imprinted into your mind, hanging on to every dip and curve of each syllable, is apologizing to you in a tone so sincere it almost hurts. He makes you ache.

Though you are screaming internally, you smile and say, "Aw, no worries Mis-" you notice how his brow is already furrowing. He's told you before, Neuvillette is fine, no need for formalities. We're neighbors, after all. "...No worries, Neuvillette. It's, uh, nice to see you."

You want to face-plant directly into the ground. Busy as he is, you see each other nearly everyday.

If Neuvillette notices the awkwardness of your phrasing, he clearly doesn't mind. His understanding is found in an undeniably fond smile.

"Same to you," And then your name. He says it so tenderly, like it is precious. You're going to burst into flames right here, and illuminate the darkening skies for all to see.

There's a small beat of awkward silence, which is filled with your eyes scanning for anything to look at but him. Neuvillette stands just at the border of your fence, its gate opened but his feet firmly planted at the edges. It's like there's a barrier there, put in place so as to keep him, in specific, out. And, well, you are shivering and shaking at the mere thought of seeing him any closer, but it does feel...pitiful to have him so far away.

"You...can come closer if you want." You pat the space on the step next to you.

His eyes widen again, the same expression of surprise he had shown when he had first appeared. And again, he schools it into something more familiar, collected and calm. It's almost vampiric how he steps forward with an eagerness, but only after being invited to do so.

You almost want to laugh-- the man is so lanky that he has to shift awkwardly to fit properly on the small step. But then he settles fully and your laugh dies immediately. You inhale, and then it dawns upon you that he's close.

Neuvillette smells fresh. Like getting misted with rain after an ongoing drought. And then something faintly sweet, like flowers-- his garden. It intoxicates you-- this was a horrible idea.

"You have my thanks,"

You can only nod. You don't trust your voice not to betray you.

This time, the silence that follows is not awkward and stiff. It is a serene, natural thing, as you both gaze at the ever-brightening stars.

"This is lovely," comes his voice in a whisper, as if speaking too loudly will cause the sky to ripple like a stone thrown atop a pond's surface. "But...would you mind so terribly if I were to confess something?"

You are going to die.

Confess makes it sound like he was hiding something from you. Confess makes it sound like he was harboring something, keeping it close, watching it bloom. Confess makes it sound like it was blooming for you.

It chants in your ear so loudly you can barely hear it over your voice.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"O-of course. Go ahead."

Confess. Confess. Confess.

Another one of his smiles. The moon caresses the planes of his face, and you are envious of how they brush against his cheekbones and the sharp lines of his jaw. Your eyes immediately flicker back— his cheeks. There's a faint flush brushed across them.

"It is...a bit embarrassing, admittedly,"

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"I..had been meaning to ask.."

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"...If you would mind teaching me how you make those pastries of yours?"

The heart is a funny thing.

At first, it sinks. Your heart is but a lump in your chest now, vulnerable and lonely. You were a fool to think that someone like Neuvillette of all people would see you in that way. He is put together— a calm, guiding force for the melusines, the talk of your little neighborhood. And you? You are but a neighbor, lucky enough to be housed next to him. But then—

You wanted to know him better, didn't you?

Immediately, your mind races. Neuvillette, in your home. Neuvillette's long, pretty fingers shaky with inexperience. Neuvillette, with his eyes focused on his new task, focused on you. You feel dizzy. You are weak in the knees.

It's a horrible idea.

For one, your house must pale in comparison to his. His house is a stately one. You remember, the first time you had stepped foot in front of his door, thinking that the previous owners must've prepped it just for his arrival. A freshly painted baby-blue on the siding. Hedges trimmed to perfection. A pathway with not a single stone out of place. That big, intimidating white door, with golden detailing around the edges. Your house is not *horrible* by any means. But it is not his.

For seconds, you can barely sit next to the guy without losing what's left of your sanity.

It's a horrible idea.

"I-"

You face him, and those pearlescent eyes are boring into you. Controlled, steady, expectant.

"I would be happy to help you out!" You say too quickly, all in one breath.

Neuvillette has never really laughed in front of you. You seem to be privy to the smaller, faint smiles that make your head spin, but never a laugh.

So when you hear it for the first time— breathy and filled to the brim with mirth, you forget all about the way your heart had sunken a mere seconds ago, and fall for him all over again. Like a lovesick fool.

His smile is wide, showing teeth. You're starting to wonder if you have something going here, with him not being fully human. You swear on everything you own— his canines are sharper than normal. What's worse? It only makes you more enamored.

"It would seem I owe you my thanks again," his hand is close to yours. The tips of his gloved fingers are nearly touching your own, and that alone makes your heart want to take flight. "Looks like I'll be owing you a debt for a while still."

Your mouth opens to speak. You want to tell him that it's okay, that it's not an issue of owing you anything. That you'd walk through hell barefoot if it meant hearing that laugh again. But you don't get a chance to speak.

Because his hand, with warmth ebbing through the thin fabric, covers yours and gives it a light squeeze. It's such a small, clearly platonic motion, and yet your heart— your heart. It beats as though it means to clamber out of your chest and run for the hills. Away from the porch, away from the stars, away from his hand that fits snugly over yours.

"Shall we meet tomorrow?"

You nod with an urgency unbefitting such a light conversation. "Of course, it's a-"

No. It's not a date. It's not anything like a date. In fact it couldn't be further from one.

"Of course." Is where you settle.

Neuvillette's smile only widens, and again you are met with those pointed teeth.

"It's a date, then."

You're going to die.

꧁꧂

You make pancakes for breakfast, but you can't taste them.

Last night, you scratched at the mosquito bites littering your forearms, but all you could feel was his hand, with warmth ebbing through the thin fabric, covering yours as he gives it a light squeeze. As you brushed your teeth this morning, you swear you could smell something fresh. Like getting misted with rain after an ongoing drought. As you spread syrup over your pancakes, your gaze was unfocused. You see those pearlescent eyes boring into you. Controlled, steady, expectant. You're going to die.

You know how to bake. At work, you browse recipes to try during your breaks. At home, if you feel sluggish, you bake to take your mind off of things. You have experience by now. But how can you trust yourself to teach someone else if that someone could send you to heaven just by smiling? It's not fair. You're doomed.

You can think of at least ten ways to call off this impromptu lesson off the top of your head. You can pretend to be sick, or flee the country, for example. But then comes your second issue: Neuvillette's disappointment. The corner of his lips turned downwards into a frown, a soft exhale leaving his too-tense shoulders. You're grieving with him at the thought. You're doomed.

There's no getting out of the hole you've dug yourself, so you take to organizing your ingredients. You are good at baking. You know how to bake. You will not trip over your own feet, or swallow your own tongue attempting to speak. You are good at this. Everything is fine.

From the door comes two firm knocks, and your life flashes before your eyes.

You are reminded of your first meeting with him, how your heart was pounding in your head, how his eyes were boring into you. And this time, it's within your own home! You open the door with as much grace and poise as a chicken without its head.

Neuvillette always looks good. In fact, good is too little of a word to describe how he looks. You could use elegant, or debonair, or divine, but it's different when he's this close.

His hair is tied back, appropriate for the mess that baking often creates, and a singular button is undone from his loose dress shirt. Neuvillette is someone who dresses without big, ornate details, but still carries a serene type of class. He feels clean and proper, even if he is dressing casually. This is the first time it hits you— you've never even seen him without gloves. Usually, he wears them for work and keeps them on thereafter, or his hands are covered with thick, rubber gardening gloves. You feel like a victorian noble, with such little exposed skin causing such a distraction. There's so much. You have a full view of the planes of his face, without wispy swipes of white obstructing your gaze. You are leveled with a set of beautiful, strong collarbones. So much and yet—

You cannot help but stare at his uncovered, painted nails.

"Ah," he says, and again you hear him laugh-- you must be blessed. This one is lighter, a gentle breeze carrying a pleasant memory, "The melusines requested I matched with them. This was one of the ways we had decided on."

Neuvillette offers a hand, and pastel, patterned nails come into full view. The swooping swirls of Muirne. The star-like shapes of Cosanzeana. The baby-blue of Sigewinne. He carries ten of them under his gloves, with him at all times. That fact is sweet on its own. And then he says—

"We do try to alternate every few weeks or so."

Your heart melts.

You aren't quite sure what melusines are, or where they came from, but you do know that Neuvillette cares for them as he would his own kin. He's like a proud father, it's adorable.

"It wouldn't impede our baking lesson, would it?"

He's adorable.

"No! Ah, no it won't, no worries!"

꧁꧂

With every scan of his eyes, you become more acutely aware that this is actually happening and not some prank orchestrated by the gods. You have a million thoughts that are buzzing around uselessly in your mind, and at least half of them boil down to you should've cleaned more. You don't take Neuvillette to be the judgy type, but even so having him in your space makes you nervous.

"So," you start, with your voice embarrassingly pitchy, "Have you made a cake before?"

A soft hum, "I have...attempted to," He averts his gaze, "With unfortunately low success."

You suppress a laugh at that-- the image of Neuvillette standing in a kitchen, looking disapprovingly at a sunken cake makes it a hard-won battle.

"Okay then! I'll try my best to help you. And then, maybe we can share it with the melusines."

Neuvillette seemed a bit tense at first, admitting his failures. But at your words, he melts, and his smile is so soft it almost seems blurry around the edges.

First, the dry ingredients.

"The mixing is the fun part, it's the measurements that can make or break the cake," You explain, feeling especially scholarly, "Too much flour will make the cake sink a bit the moment you pull it out of the oven, for example."

"I see..."

"I'll measure this part, just in case. Wanna mix?"

"Of course,"

You offer a shy smile of your own, and turn to prepare the rest of the ingredients. The sound of a whisk hitting your metal mixing bowl resounds for a moment, and then you hear your name (said tenderly, like it's precious).

As if pulled by puppet strings, you turn immediately.

And feel a dry mixture of flour brush against your face.

"Ah," He says, though he is clearly unsurprised, "My apologies."

What.

You do not, or at least had not taken Neuvillette to be the playful, mischievous type. But those pale eyes flicker to yours as he continues to mix, and that hint of a smile is playing at the corners of his lips.

What?

Neuvillette sets the bowl down after a few more moments of whisking, and then his eyes are fully set on you once more.

"Here," from his pocket, he produces a blue handkerchief, and before you can breathe he's getting closer, lower, "May I?"

You're weak in the knees. And you're going to die.

The sound that you make is something between and scream and a whimper, and something you're sure is entirely pathetic. That's quite enough of trying to speak, so you only nod.

His fingers —ungloved fingers— are gentle as they hook under your chin, and lift up. You aren't particularly short, but Neuvillette stands a good head above most. His touch is like dewdrops on top of flower petals, or a rainbow seen after the last drizzles of rain, or anything else delicate and dainty and sacred. You're struggling to stay upright. You mourn the fact that it's the light cloth wiping at your face, and not his opposite, uncovered hand. You're weak.

"There we are,"

And then his touch is gone, and he has stood up straight again.

"What is next?"

You are considerably more frazzled as you prepare the wet ingredients.

"I'll mix these," you say, trying to sound firm. You can't handle another heart attack. Neuvillete nods, but you know that the mirthful look in his eyes means he's enjoying this. He's a problem.

Neuvillette is never really smug. He doesn't gloat or brag about anything, despite taking pride in all that he does. You consider it a rarity that he smiles so often in front of you now, perhaps one of many benefits to living such close proximity to him, but god is it distracting. It's not filled with mockery, but he seems suspiciously content with watching you try and keep your cool. Your mixing becomes more frantic.

This is stupid. He's only asking for a favor, only wants to make better treats for those dear to him. He just happens to have a stupidly smooth voice, and a stupidly pretty smile, and stupidly unashamed eyes that bore at you as you work, and—

Okay, so fuck him actually.

With a quick flick of the wrist, and the wet mixture is splattered in little droplets across his face.

You know it has to be a touch more gross than simple flour and baking powder, but if that was a concern maybe he wouldn't have started this little war.

"My apologies." You say echo, feeling particularly proud.

"Seeking out justice with your own hands, are you?" his query is something that rumbles, waves building up and up and up before they come to crash. You would feel unnerved, if not for the way that his eyes shine with a sudden playfulness. It's so different from the Neuvillette you thought you knew, the one who is polite but passive, restrained and reserved at all times. You're seeing more and more of this new side of him, and you feel yourself becoming greedy for more. This was a horrible idea.

"It's only fair," Turning, you continue to mix. That's enough of looking at his face, blessed be.

Except the gods are *done* being on your side, apparently.

"If I recall," along with that steady voice, your shoulders are gripped by equally steady shoulders, "I cleaned up the mess I had made."

You're spun, to look at him. The metal mixing bowl nearly falls out of your arms. You're going to die. You're going to die, and your neighbor will be your undoing.

Neuvillette is looking at you, focused like you are mere prey quivering before him, luminescent eyes crinkled at the edges. It's unfair. There is a mixture of egg and buttermilk drying on his cheek, and yet you feel flustered by his gaze nonetheless.

"For it to truly be fair, you should return the favor, no?"

Your voice is meek and squeaky, but you manage.

"Oh..o-oh! Okay!"

His face is smooth. You're dangerously toeing the line between awe and jealousy as you reach for his cheek, full and unmarred by any bumps or blemishes. You're sure you're being obvious in your ogling of him, taking your sweet time to wipe the remnants of ingredients from his face, but Neuvillette seems like he's enjoying this. His eyes are so light, normally. But now, the whole of his irises are swallowed by a deep, inky black. Much like the night sky you saw yesterday.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

You must be seeing things.

꧁꧂

The rest of your baking is, mercifully, without another incident. You put the cake in the oven, are inhumanely fast while making the buttercream, and now sit under a familiar sunset.

You just need to survive until your timer goes off.

"Neuvillette," comes your voice, breezy, "Why the sudden interest in baking?"

The man in question lowers the tie neatly pulling his hair into place, lowering the band so his hair nearly drips onto his shoulders.

"...There are a few reasons," there is a heaviness in that answer, and you feel he is indeed speaking the truth. Neuvillette is rarely one to hesitate, "But I suppose the main one would be to better cater to the melusines."

Your brows furrow at that. From what you can tell, Neuvillette is the best guardian the strangely charming creatures could offer. They sing nothing but his praises, and you know that he would do anything for them if they so much as batted their eyes up at him.

"They have taken a liking to sweets. Yours, especially," The way he looks at you is achingly tender, sweet, "While you've never expressed your discomfort with them, I figured I should share your burden of requests, or at the very least attempt to."

You're weak.

"Oh... Oh! It's no trouble at all, seriously," you nudge him with your elbow, "I like talking with them, and it's not like they just demand them."

Scattered around your home, assortments of shiny rocks and gems and trinkets decorate your shelves and end tables. They had at first insisted on paying for your goods, but at your refusal they had taken to a sort of trade instead. You adore them and their pint-sized company.

"It seems I've done well in that regard, then." Says your neighbor, with the rightful pride of a successful father.

"You have! They're the sweetest, really, so there's no need to worry."

That steady, comfortable silence wraps you in its embrace once more. A question pounds restlessly in the back of your mind.

"...If it's okay to ask, what are your other reasons?"

There is a subtle quirk to his lips, one you would not have noticed if your eyes weren't frustratingly glued to his face. It's like he was waiting for you to ask.

"Well," his voice is so soft, almost as light as your head feels. your eyes are focused on the inky black that swallows his own. Then, your eyes flicker to the whole of him— his cheeks. There's a faint flush brushed across them.

Confess. Confess. Confess.

"I've grown terribly fond of my neighbor, you see."

You don't know if he'd said anything else after that. You can hear nothing but the rapid beating of your heart, and the small ding! of your timer going off.

╌────═❁═────╌

thank you for reading! reblogs w/comments appreciated <3

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #gi x reader #genshin impact x you #gi x you #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact #☆.writing #—stellaronhvnters.

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depravitycentral · 1 year ago

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Tw: misogany, non-con, incels, gender/power dynamics, writing this made me feel icky, if you are a person who genuinely believes in anything described in this post please consider changing your opinions, fem reader, MDNI, don't ask me where this post came from because I don't know

Thinking about men that think your rightful place is by his side as his woman.

You bring out this side of him that's brand new to him; this side urging him to utterly dominate you, to be in full control of your bank accounts, your friendships, your hobbies, even your own body. There's this new urge to make you ask for permission for everything, to just pin you down and stuff you full of him every hour of every day because it's your job. It's your duty to take his cock - you were made for it.

He's never been particularly misogynistic, but when he looks at you, all he sees is the beautiful, wonderful, perfect woman that he must domesticate. You're too wild on your own - too free-spirited, brainwashed into believing this 'modern woman' crap - there's a reason the man does the work and the woman stays at home. Don't you know that?

He's strong - you're not. (And he knows it, too - after a night of fucking, all the bruises littering your body and the way your legs struggle to hold you steady is proof enough. The way he can easily lift the heavy wooden bedframe of your shared bed is enough - you can only lift a corner of it off the ground, after all. The way he can get you to shut up with just a simple, stern look should be enough evidence.)

He's street-smart - you're not. (He understands what other men want and what you're good for - it's not sexist when he tells you that the shirt you're wearing is too revealing. He won't hesitate to tell you that your entire chest is basically out, angel, and you can't be showing the world one of your best assets. He understands that you're not strong or skilled enough to fight another man off should he decide he wants you - you'll try to fight, sure, but that'll only get the other man going, your resistance only getting them harder and more lustful, and when you inevitably give in - because you always will, all women will - he knows you might even enjoy it.)

He's smart - you're not. (You think you are - and you're right about some things, sure. You know the best ways to bathe yourself - he's never been as thorough as you, he's humble enough to admit that - and how to make delicious pie, and the best way to make the bed warm and soft. But there's a lot of things you don't know, like who to vote for at the next election, or how to change a tire, or how to use a debit card.)

He's a man. And you're not. And he likes that you aren't - he's attracted to you because of your feminine charms; your curves, your softness, your smell, the sound of your voice, and - of course - the fact that you are utterly, utterly his property. As his wife (your consent in the matter is hardly important; his last name is yours now, and that's all there really is to it), all your decisions are made by him. He tells you what to wear, what to get at the grocery store, how to address other men, how to smile, everything that he knows is too much for you to handle.

And, of course, he teaches you other things. Things that he knows you are - should be, at least - clueless about. So cute, huh?

He's patient when he tells you to sink to your knees, palms pressing on the top of your head as he pushes you down, softly shushing you when you start to protest. He's patient as he slips his briefs down, his cock already red and throbbing and big, making your cheeks look even softer and rounder, your glassy eyes and prettier. He's talking you through it as he traces his tip - wet and sticky and leaving a smear of bitter precum on your skin - around your lips, the look in his eye nearly boyish with excitement.

He's gentle when he grasps your chin between two fingers (much stronger than your own, of course) to keep you steady, shuffling his hips forward so that his tip (bulbous and red and positively glistening, already looking so swollen you're sure he won't last but a minute) slips past your lips. He keeps going until you're gagging, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment before immediately opening them once more because the sight of you below him, on your knees for him, shutting you up with his cock down your throat is oh so right.

He's patient when he pushes you face-first into the bed, running a hand over your hair and sighing to himself because god, aren't you pretty? His hands are on your hips immediately, pushing down on your lower back to get the arch of your back deeper, tighter, more intense because it looks better this way - it's better for him this way, and isn't sex really only about the man?

He's even generous enough to be gentle when he's pushing himself inside you - keeping the pace slow but consistent, hissing and letting a few comments of 's so damn tight, fuck and cunt was made for me, shit slipping past his lips. He's kind enough to give you a few moments (perhaps three) to adjust to his size, before he's smacking your ass and pulling your hair, fucking into you like an animal because you're his to use.

And he's not afraid to say it - t's all harsh thrusts that make audible slapping noises as his balls - very, very sensitive and very, very full - smack against you over and over, strong fingers grabbing at your skin and keeping you in place, just so he can ram into that one spot over and over and over, because he thinks the deeper he goes the more he's claiming you. He's groaning at you with stuttered breaths that you were made to get fucked by me, o-oh shit, this tight hole's only thing you're good for and accentuating the idea with his fingers groping at your breast and using it as leverage to pull you back further and get deeper.

The air is hot and smells like musk and cum and sex, every inch of your body unable to think of anything but him - just as it should be, really. He's grabbing onto the pretty, silver collar he's forced around your throat as he thrusts, the tracker inlaid into the metal feeling familiar to his fingertips and making his thrusts harder because he must know where you are at all times - you're his property and he can't lose you.

After all, if you were gone, who would he dress up to look all pretty for him then? (He's still dressing you up even in the humiliating outfits he forces you to parade around in at home - the cooking aprons and nothing else, giving him easy access to hump your bare ass from behind while you work at the stove, cooking him dinner all the while you keep his cock warm between those pretty legs of yours.)

If you were gone, who would wake him up with lips around his cock, soft gagging noises filling the air alongside songbirds as he gets a proper good morning?

If you were gone, who would listen to his endless rants about his horrible coworkers and friends and anyone that pissed him off all while he pounds a beer and jokes about how good you look while you load the washing machine full of his dirty clothes - you look nice bent over, sweetheart, why don't you stay in there for a bit and let me blow off some steam?

Of course, all of this is fine and dandy - owning you is the dream, and having you as his pretty, helpless, clueless little wife is the ultimate fantasy. He lays awake at night sometimes imagining how you'd be as his housewife - the pretty ring on your finger, how you'd eagerly wait at the door for his arrival home from work everyday, how you'd meticulously put on your makeup and style your hair and wear the pretty lingerie he'd bought you just so that you look as attractive and desirable to him as possible.

But first, he needs to show you your place as his woman, and get rid of this misplaced sense of independence you seem to be clutching onto for dear life. Stupid girl.

(His belt is unbuckled as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, his smile something between sinister and elated as he tells you to not bother working at the knot keeping your hands tied behind your back - tying knots is men's work, and you'll hurt your pretty fingers and hands. You'll need those later, so quit picking.)

Enji Todoroki, AFO, Nobunaga Hazama, Illumi Zoldyck, Daichi Sawamura, Kenjiro Shirabu, I don't write for aot or jjk but also Floch Forester, Eren Jeager and Naoya Zenin

#yandere hxh #yandere bnha #yandere haikyuu #yandere aot #_lee rambles #_i don't really know what this is #it just sort of happened #i promise i don't support misogyny #_enji todoroki #_AFO #_Nobunaga hazama #_illumi zoldyck #_daichi sawamura #_kenjiro shirabu #_floch forester #_eren jeager

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saibugslegacy · 2 months ago

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Odysseus Ask Game

my fabulous mutual @rypnami posted an ask game for characters and I decided to fill it out for Odysseus to try and force myself to devlope him more lmao

1) if your mc was an animagus, what would their form be? if they are, what is their form?

His patronus is a black mamba but if he was an animagus I think they’d be a dog, specifically a really big pitbull, we’re talking great dane sized pitbull

2) if they could choose what animagus form they would take, would it be the same? or would they want to have a different animal form?

Honestly he’d probably want to be a snake just for a point, but he’d also be okay with the pitbull

3) does your mc have a favourite colour? why is it their favourite?

His favorite color is actually periwinkle, he likes it because it’s softer and different than all the things he’s “supposed” to like. He’s not supposed to like pretty things but he does

4) in a modern au, would your mc use social media? what would their preferred platform be? why is if their preferred one?

Good news I have a modern au in development so ive actually thought about this question. Odysseus would be on twitter mainly and have two accounts, one his verified account (in my modern au his mother is the vice president of the us) and a private one where he mainly talks shit about all the people and htings he has to deal with during the day and is gay about his boyfriends (this includes in a certain au i have with a certain mutual of mine)

5) did you consult wand lore when choosing their wand? if so, why did you pick what you did? if not, would you ever change wand details to match your mc?

I did indeed. Odysseus’ wand is cedar wood and unicorn hair. I chose a cedar wand because it’s noted as choosing shrewd and incredibly loyal wizards, but what really sold it was that the users of cedar wands are often underestimated but incredibly powerful, especially when harm is done to their loved ones. I picked unicorn hair because it’s a very consistent core and he just really needs a steady consistency, if his wand was moody he’d burn down Hogwarts

6) what is your mc’s diet? are they vegan, vegetarian, do they eat whatever? Why?

Not a limited diet but does tend to err more towards “fancier” foods only because that’s what he’s used to. But “simple” foods are comforting to him

7) what is your mc’s backstory as to why they didn’t join hogwarts until 5th year? or did you retcon that part of the story when creating them?

Odysseus didn’t go to Hogwarts because he was a squib. He had ancient magic but couldnt use it until him and his siblings stumbled on an ancient magic hotspot and activated it. Suddenly he could do magic and less than a week later Fig showed up to Carrow manor with a Hogwarts letter for him

8) what house is your mc in? why are they in that house?

Odysseus is a Hufflepuff because underneath all of the…everything, his core traits are his loyalty to his family and his hard work in order to make his family proud

9) were you inspired by characters from other media when making your mc? if so, which characters? and how did they influence your mc?

The idea of the Owl came very vaguely from Batman and Spiderman but that was it

10) does your mc have any special abilities? (legilimens, parsletongue, metamorphagus, etc) how do they choose to use these powers? did you give them powers for fun, or does it relate to their backstory/plot?

Odysseus is a born Legilimens! He uses the powers mainly unwillingly, he cant really turn them off. But he can focus them and does so either to communicate with people or for interrogation on his family’s behalf. The powers and the backstory kind came at the same time. I knew I wanted to make a Hufflepuff that subverted expectations but wasn’t sure how to incorporate that. I thought of an MC who “should” be a Slytherin but ended up in Hufflepuff, then why would they be trying so hard, maybe they dont have magic but then how does the ancient magic present itself, and i’d already wanted to make a legilimens

11) what is your mc’s blood status? how does it affect their time at hogwarts? how does it affect their home life?

Odysseus is a pureblood, one of the sacred twenty-eight families. His family are definitely blood purists and from hearing their thoughts about it constantly his own thoughts ended up mirroring theirs because that was how he was “supposed” to think. He had a LOT to unpack once he got to Hogwarts

12) did your mc open the repository? why or why not?

I’m not sure honestly, I haven’t gotten that far in the story yet. I think he might take some of it and then contain the rest, but im not married to that yet

13) if your mc opened the repository, how did absorbing all that power affect them, if it did at all?

It would basically just make it so they have more of a core since they don’t have a natural magic core of his own and using magic exhausts him

14) what does your mc think of the keepers? do they trust them? why or why not?

Odysseus HATES the Keepers and does not trust them at all, he thinks the whole thing is stupid and he hates how they care so much about the trials over just answering his questions and letting him do the job they want him to do so he can get it over with

15) how does your mc’s story continue after 5th year? how do they cope with everything that happened with ranrok, sebastian, etc?

Sebastian is going to need a major redemption arc with Odysseus, but Ody’s story in 6th year is mainly trying to figure out how to escape his family then deciding no, he needs to take down his uncle and save his family

16) did your mc learn the unforgivables? why or why not?

He did because to him the Unforgivables are just powerful spells, he doesn’t think different until later but by then he already knows them

17) did your mc turn in sebastian? why or why not?

He did not because he did not care about Sebastian killing his uncle, it was the other stuff he had a problem with. Plus, he couldn’t do that to Ominis

18) what is your mc’s family like? do they have siblings? do they still have parents?

cracks knuckles alright buckle up buttercup. His father, Fabian, died when odyssesus was young because he was an auror and their house got attacked by dark wizards. Odysseus’s uncle Magnus became the head of the family until Ody’s brother Theodore could come of age who at the time of the game is only. Magnus already hated Ody because he was a squib, then he came out and Magnus hated him more because Odysseus being treated as a man would put Magnus’ position as head of family in danger even sooner. Ody’s mother’s name is Yvaine, she was a Lestrange before marrying into the Carrows. Ody also has three sisters, an older sister names Ambrosia who marries Professor Black’s son Cygnus, and despite being an arranged marriage they are grossly in love. Then there’s Vivian, who is 14 and a Slytherin, and little Marianna who is 9

19) does your mc have a love interest? who is it? why did your mc fall for that character, if they do have a love interest?

At this point ody has about 734638 love interests but his main one is phillip ( @rypnami ) or maybe Poppy

20) does your mc have a favourite spell? if so, what is it and why do they like it the most?

I dont think he really has one honestly, if he did it would probably be diffindo, it’s brutal and efficeient

21) if you could change anything that the mc does in the game, what would it be? why would you change it? how would you change it? (ie; a line they say, an event of a quest, things of that nature)

MC is WAY too nice and empathetic to be Odysseus honestly but other than that not much

22) does your mc have any pets? if so, why do they have the pets they have? and for fun, what are their pets’ names?

He has a rosy boa snake named Persephone who is a massive diva and has a rivalry with Ominis over Odysseus’ attention, and a horned owl named Merlin who does not want to be here and just wants to do his job

23) when designing your mc, why did you choose the appearance you did? has it changed at all since you first made them? would you change anything now?

I wish his eyes could be a brighter purple but otherwise I like him as is. I kinda just followed my heart and clicked things till i made a pretty boy

24) where is your mc from? where is their family from?

Carrow manor is in Ireland and partially from india while his mother’s side of the family is from france

25) what is your mc’s favourite season? why is it their favourite?

Odysseus likes winter because everyone stays inside so he can go outside and get some peace and quiet

26) how about your mc’s favourite holiday? what makes it special to them?

He likes christmas because when he was a kid it was the only time he got to see Ominis and they could actually spend time together, unlike the social events they were dragged to where they had to mingle and such

27) if your mc wasn’t in their current house, where would they have been sorted? why do you think they’d be there?

He still wouldn’t be a Slytherin unfortunately for him, he would be a Ravenclaw. He learned so much about things like potions, herbology, and magic theory so he wouldnt be as much of an embarrassment and that takes a lot of cleverness

28) does your mc have a favourite childhood toy? if so, what was it? do they still have it with them?

Before he came out he had a little music box from his mother. His uncle threatened to take it but Odysseus buried it where the ancient magic hotspot was

29) what kind of music would your mc like? is there a reason?

Classical. He will never admit this because he has a hard enough time being taken seriously as a man but he adores dancing, mainly ballet and ballroom dancing, so thats why he likes classical. He’s particularly fond of the violin

30) last but not least, just tell us something you love about your mc!

I fucking love his eyes I wish I could make them look right in game. I will attach a picture below

#odysseus carrow #ask game #mutuals #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts oc #hogwarts legacy male mc #hogwarts legacy male oc

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 4 months ago

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OC Origins

Thanks @tabswrites here!

Rules: post the origins of how you came up with the name, personality, and design of your OCs!

I'll do Kelsey and Hye-Jin this time!

Kelsey

The original form of Kelsey appeared in the first draft of TSP, and she was Kelly's best friend Nellie. Kelly being the original Maddie. Like Kelly, Nellie was also eight years old and didn't do much, but she was one of the leads in the second book, which I still have not found. Nellie had blonde hair in a bob cut, blue eyes, pale white skin, and wore rectangular purple glasses. I don't remember what she wore. She had the ability to fly. I think her design stayed mostly the same in Draft Two, but I feel like I never described her. I gave her the last name Newman, and I also changed her powers to be force-fields. My sister was the one who told me to change her name, since she didn't like the name Nellie, so I changed it to Kelsey (and I don't remember if it was her suggestion or not). I thought Kelsey Newman still sounded like a good name, so I kept it. In Draft Three, I gave Kelsey very vague powers that I just described as "magic," but this is where Kelsey's design actually begins to look like it does now, and I finally aged her up to eleven. I cut her hair short and choppy and made her glasses black. Her personality finally decided to begin to form, but that doesn't mean it was good. In Draft Four, Kelsey found herself becoming a POV character, and that's when her voice came out a bit more. Her narration became a little sassier, and I was able to get her voice down pretty well. I solidified her powers as reality warping, which helped shape Kelsey's storyline, though I eventually gave it the name essokinesis. I also gave Kelsey some makeup. Draft Five was mainly started so I could work more on character, so I was finally able to get Kelsey down a little. While I kept her narration, a lot of it was internalized on Kelsey's part, so her exterior was written to be a lot shyer, and that strong voice only showed itself occasionally. I made her softer side stronger as she became responsible for taking care of her younger cousins. Design-wise, I tweaked her makeup and outfit slightly to fit more into the modern tween emo vibe I was attempting, and even after some debate I recently thought it would be fun to dye her hair, thanks to an incorrect assumption by @illarian-rambling that I actually really liked. Kelsey has come a long way, and I really like where she is now.

Other Kelsey: OC in three, Picrew (blonde), questionnaire one, questionnaire two, bingo

Hye-Jin

While she's not in Part One, I wanted to talk about her in the same post as Kelsey. Hye-Jin made her first appearance in Draft Two as Alexia's friend Lucy Karry, who went to another school. Lucy had the ability to control the weather. Lucy was given one personality trait: shy. Which is more than most characters got in the first few drafts. Lucy was always East Asian and specifically had Korean descent, but design-wise that just meant beige skin, dark eyes, and thick black hair that I think was shoulder-length. Like everyone else, nothing interesting was going on. For Draft Three, I gave her nothing more than a shout-out as Lucy Harris, and I kept her ability to control the weather, but she never made a physical appearance. In Draft Four, I temporarily had her be named Lucy Day in her shout-out, but I realized early on that if she was Korean (or I guess at this point, the Alii equivalent of that), I should reflect that in her name, and I changed her surname to Song. Lucy did not make an appearance until Part Two, where she was revealed to have a new power like Kelsey: mimicry. Lucy stayed quiet and shy, but she didn't have a lot going on, and I struggled to give her something interesting to do. But her design slowly got better. I did give her more basic clothing, where she wore black and white, but that didn't seem to fit. Eventually I decided she'd wear pastels and also gave her a high ponytail and bangs. In Draft Five, when working with the characters, I figured her out a little more, though it didn't sink into place and become easy until I changed her name to Hye-Jin. For some reason, Hye-Jin was easier to write than Lucy. It was like I finally knew who she was. I kept her hairstyle, but I instead made her color palette be duller cool colors plus pale colors, which really helped her out, and I've been having fun describing her outfits. Personality wise, I love where she's heading. Making her a helpless romantic and have a long list of crushes was fun, but also giving her the same shy, sweet personality on top of other quirks such as a love of reptiles and strong self-confidence was very fun. I love writing her now, when before she wasn't like that.

Other Hye-Jin: OC in three, questionnaire one, bingo

Other Origins: Lexi and Maddie, Ash and Gwen, Noelle and Rose

Tagging @melpomene-grey @chauceryfairytales @leahnardo-da-veggie @sarahlizziewrites @dyrewrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

#the secret portal #teaspoon #tsp #oc tag game #my ocs #kelsey newman #hye-jin song #oc origins #writing community #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #writing tag game

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verdemoun · 4 months ago

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Hi can I just…can I just ask about Molly in the modern au I know she’s a content creator (and we’re married obviously) but also like…who went to get her when she died? How does she interact with the gang initially after being so convinced that everyone was laughing at her? And most importantly to me do her and Sean ever reconcile?

i got you boo

It was Bessie, Grimshaw and Arthur who went to get Molly. Arthur, because she actually liked Arthur and considered him a friend, Bessie, because Bessie was the only one who actually knew how to drive, and Grimshaw, because both she was the only one where Molly was 'disposed of' and the guilt of hearing from Arthur that Molly wasn't actually a rat and she shot her so blindly for Dutch was killing her.

They didn't find her, and therefore assumed she hadn't been timewarped and Grimshaw just sobbed. She felt so awful and honestly survivor's guilt that it wasn't fair she was getting a second chance when Molly was denied one because of her (believing she wasn't timewarped because she was burned, not buried).

In reality, Molly had already been found stumbling around the forest by a lovely couple who ended up taking her in for the first few months of her timewarp adventure mentioned here.

They thought she had escaped some really bizarre twisted cult considering how little she knew about modern era but the gentle support they offered as a result was everything Molly didn't realize she needed. They paid for her to go to counselling where she got to work out a bunch of issues as a result of the gang experience and supported her financially until she was ready to go off on her own. She adores them very much and stayed in contact with them forever and they are very proud in an almost paternal way of how well she's doing given what little they understood about her past.

Sean was the one to figure out she WAS timewarped months later because of how much her social media was blowing up and the fact he was excited to reach out to her immediately made their dynamic so much softer. 'hey it's me deadeye macguire you're here too!! we're here too!! how you been the gang went looking for you we didn't know you were here what's going on!!!!'

It came just in time because Molly was actually starting to think maybe she was crazy and the timewarp didn't happen and everything that happened in canon was a delusion. She has her own life now she isn't going to throw it away to be the forgotten VDL anymore but also seeing the gang and all the 1899 gang are happy to see her?? They've all had time to think about their actions towards her and are sorry??

She thought she was overthinking she's getting apologies for things she didn't even realize were issues. Arthur being so sorry he didn't do more to protect her in Beaver Hollow. Hosea for letting himself get so distracted by the Plan that he didn't see the impact Dutch was having on her self-worth despite being a fellow lover of Dutch van der Linde. Grimshaw pulling her close and the stoic old witch crying because she's so sorry she killed her and also didn't do enough to help her when she knows what it does to someone's mental health to be in a relationship with Dutch and feel yourself being thrown away. Kieran just being happy to see her because he was a decent person to her the whole time!!

Very cathartic and she keeps in contact because 1899 is just a shared trauma at this point but she's also grateful she gets to be her own person and have her own life. She lives in a significantly bigger city and is still upper class and sometimes snobbish but much more empowered woman who knows her rights and what she wants than just class privilege girlie.

Her vibes still irk Sean but they dm regularly just because Sean is also one of the more competent with modern technology esp in early days. It was always Sean having to send her invites to hang outs because none of the more senior members of the gang knew how to.

Molly also hates the British and the day Sean found out he practically welcomed her into his home like a brother in arms. She still finds him annoying but she has more of a tolerance for him the same way he has more of a tolerance for her. She occasionally flexes her wealth to buy him treats from Ireland even though the postage is insane and he knows and appreciates it.

#rdr2 timewarp au #molly o'shea

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summerwritesfics · 3 months ago

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🗺️It’s The Same Old Story Well They Just Didn’t Realise

Pairing: Johnny Cage/Kuai Liang Length: 1996 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Modern AU, Reality Show AU, Reality TV, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Age Difference (Neither of those are pertaining to Johnny/Kuai, and the age gap relationship is fake), Johnny’s Dad is a dick, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Family Drama, Dysfunctional Family. AU-Gust 2024 Day 6: Reality Show

AU-Gust 2024 Masterlist

Notes: From everything we’ve heard Johnny’s family is a complete mess and I’m 100% sure they’d make the most fucked up reality TV show lol Becky (or Rebecca) is a piece of lore that came from the manual of the original MK game. I wanted Johnny to have at least one somewhat well adjusted family member lol. Please excuse the editing again, I’m like 90% sure I have covid and I’m not doing too well with it :( Title is from Starz In Their Eyes by Just Jack.

Johnny really regretted ever agreeing to this.

As he walked into the mansion, he could hear the cameramen scrambling after him. He’d never wanted to be a reality tv star. He’d wanted to be an actor. He was an actor. But, unfortunately, fame had its dark side, he let it consume him, hurting many in his path and causing countless scandals along the way. He’d finally gotten out of rehab, and wanted to find a way to clear up his public image.

Only for Father dearest to apparently have it all worked out before Johnny had even left the rehab centre.

‘You just got Caged’, a reality show that followed Johnny and his family's day-to-day life, trying to show a different softer side of the man. He knew what it really was though. His Dad had always lived vicariously through Johnny, as had his elder brother to some degree. This was really just their attempt at propelling themselves into the spotlight too.

Yet, Johnny had still gone along with it. Partially because maybe he really could show a different side of himself, the person he was before drugs and alcohol. And partially because his father had threatened to sue him for all he was worth. Johnny knew he didn’t actually have a case, given the man didn’t know what he was suing for aside from the ‘emotional distress’ of Johnny being in rehab. Still he didn’t want the absolute ball ache of him even attempting to get it into court.

So far, he felt like he’d done a good job. His father and brother had been the ones doing outlandish and quite frankly assholeish things, meaning the producers weren’t pressuring him as much to cause drama. He was thankful for that, he supposed. At least maybe people could get an idea of how he’d turned into such a fucked up mess with this shithole of a family.

He came to a halt when he spotted Becky standing against the doorway, looking annoyed by something. His elder sister was the opposite of the rest of their family, wanting to stay out of the spotlight, and only agreeing to make sporadic appearances in the show. No cameras following her around constantly. Johnny made sure that was honoured, given she was the only one who really helped him during his stint in rehab.

“Everything okay Becks?” He asked, walking up to peer through the doorway. He could see their father in the middle of the lounge, surrounded by cameramen, and another young man Johnny didn’t recognise. Whatever was going on, the man looked extremely upset, on the verge of tears and his father was practically screeching at the guy.

“I… Have no idea.” Becky shook her head, looking utterly disgusted by something. “From what I’ve made out from Dad’s screaming is he might be dating this guy?”

“What?” Johnny exclaimed, feeling a little bad when Becky flinched as he sprayed spit all over her face. It was just… so completely unbelievable. He took another look. This guy looked fucking younger than he was, granted probably only by a year or two at most, but that wasn’t the point. Not to mention, his Dad was a fucking homophobic asshole, had threatened Johnny many years ago not to let his bisexuality be known to the public because it’d make him look bad.

“I know, John, I know.” Becky petted his back a couple of times, before sighing. “I feel bad for the guy.” She paused and screwed up her face. “The young guy, to be clear, not our Dad.”

“I should fuckin’ think not,” Johnny muttered, watching as the young man in question ran off towards the back doors, looking like a hurt puppy. Maybe I should take the chance to go and make sure he’s alright, and maybe get him outta here if I need to. Johnny turned to the cameramen following him. “Hey, guys, could you gimme a minute?”

“Sure,” one of them shrugged.

He nodded to them, before trying to give Becky a reassuring smile. She did smile back, but it was the sort she gave when she was glad she wasn’t the one having to play into this bullshit. Still Johnny slipped down the other corridor, mainly to avoid his Father, and went straight for the other door out into the garden.

On the patio, he found the young man sitting on the swing, staring blankly across the garden. Johnny sighed, he had no idea how long this had been going on, or what his Dad had done to the guy, but he knew if he could do something to maybe help him out, he needed to try.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked, lightly walking up to him. The guy jumped slightly, but raised his head in Johnny's direction. Johnny swallowed slightly. Whatever was going on here, he had to admit, the guy was pretty cute. And definitely way, way too fucking young for that asshole. “Sorry, I kinda saw the whole argument and shit, wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

The man blinked a few times, before giving Johnny a small smile, “I’m fine, thank you.”

It didn’t sound believable, but Johnny decided to just accept the answer for now. He made his way over to the swing and sat down next to him. He wasn’t really sure where to go from here.

“Uh, so. It’s nice to meet you, I’m-”

“Johnny Cage. I know. You’re kind of famous,” the man completed for him, making Johnny snort laugh. Yeah. Course the guy knew who he was. There were few people who didn’t at this point. “I’m Kuai Liang.”

“Kuai Liang, huh?” It was a nice name. “Look, I don’t wanna butt into your life or anything, but I’m gonna be real with you…” He looked over his shoulder, making sure neither his father or any of the camera crew were around to catch him. “You could do so much better than that raging asshole.”

“I know,” Kuai quietly said, still wearing a small smile on his face. “Good job I’m not actually dating him, hm?”

“Wait… What?” Johnny paused and stared at Kuai, who stared back at him looking equally confused.

“Wait. You mean he didn’t tell you?” Kuai’s brows furrowed.

“I didn’t even know you existed until today,” Johnny explained, trying to figure out exactly what the fuck was going on here.

“Your Dad is paying me to pretend to be his boyfriend,” Kuai informed him, brushing his hair out of his face. “For the show.”

“You’re kidding me?” Honestly, he could believe his father doing something so fucking dumb. What he couldn’t understand was what Kuai Liang would get out of it. “Why the hell would you agree to that?”

“Because I’m a broke post-grad student who’s trying to keep a roof over mine and my brother’s heads.” Kuai bit his lip, eyes looking towards the mansion like it was something completely alien to him. “And the amount of money he offered me is enough to pay my tuition, all my bills, and still have some left over for future savings, plus general fun money.”

Johnny actually nodded along to that. He understood Kuai’s motives, but it didn’t make it any less slimy from his father’s side. He was taking advantage of a younger man’s desperation. And that didn’t even account for how things could potentially escalate. The way his father was screaming was far too real.

“I didn’t anticipate him to be so… shouty, though,” Kuai admitted quietly, as if reading Johnny’s mind. “I guess he thinks the drama will bring in viewers, but… I don’t think he’s thought it through that much. Times are changing, people are more likely to call it what it is rather than be entertained by it.”

“Nah, he probably knows exactly what he’s doing,” Johnny sighed in frustration. “The problem is he’s one of those there’s no such thing as bad publicity people.” It was part of why Johnny’s problems had gotten so out of control. Sure, Johnny had gained a reputation as a drunken loser, but he had a reputation and that was what was important. “So long as there are eyes on the show, we’re making money, and that’s all he cares about. People hatewatching to be able to make memes on the internet is sadly common, so that’s what he’s banking on.”

“Oh.” Kuai didn’t seem to have anything more to say to that.

“Look, I dunno what kind of contract he’s made you sign, but… If you wanna get out of it, I know a really good lawyer who’ll help you out.”

“No. I think… I think I should at least see the period through. It’s only about a year long, so…” Kuai rubbed the back of his neck. “I can put up with it, at least until I’m done with my Masters degree.”

Johnny wasn’t happy by that answer, but knew he couldn’t force it. All he could do was keep an eye on the situation, and make sure Kuai knew he had an out if he changed his mind.

“Alright, well, how ‘bout this?” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and clicking until he found his phone number and passing it to Kuai Liang. “That’s my number. If my Dad does anything that makes you super upset or uncomfortable, or you just plain decide you don’t wanna do this anymore, just give me a call.”

Kuai stared at the phone with wide eyes, before they flicked up to Johnny. He was clearly trying to figure out if Johnny was being serious. All Johnny did was give a short nod that it was fine. Kuai scrambled for his pocket, pulling out his own phone and transferring the information.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he passed the phone back to Johnny. “I appreciate it.”

Really, Johnny was just offering what he wished he’d had when he started out in show business. He wished he’d had someone looking out for him, rather than just his father cheering him on to destruction. He supposed Becky had done her best, but she was a little too close to him for him to have taken her seriously. She just didn’t understand the industry, is what he’d told himself. If someone, anyone else, on the set of any film he’d starred in had just taken him aside and given him help…

Well.

He supposed there was no point pondering if he’d have taken it or not. All he could do was try to be what he wished he’d had.

“I suppose I should go back in there.” Kuai looked over his shoulder and through a window back into the mansion. “The show must go on and all that.”

“Mind if I cause a shitload of drama for the cameras and storm in demanding to know why my Dad’s ‘dating’ someone who’s younger than his youngest kid?” Johnny asked with a smirk. Sure it wouldn’t do anything to dissuade everyone, but fuck it, if this show was a chance to show a better side to him, objecting to some shit like that would be a good look. He just didn’t want to do it if it’d make Kuai Liang uncomfortable however.

“Go for it,” Kuai claimed, pushing himself to stand and brushing himself off. “I’m interested in how he’ll react.”

“Bitchin’,” Johnny said absentmindedly, also going to stand, however he went to the door he’d originally come out of, intending to burst in the other entrance like he hadn’t been talking to Kuai already.

He did pause a moment, watching as Kuai entered the room, and even through the walls, he could immediately hear his father going off. He rolled his eyes. Fuckin’ dick.

He smirked, even though there was nothing really funny about the situation, except maybe some healthy humiliation he would inflict in a few seconds.

All he knew is that he wasn’t about to let what happened to him happen to Kuai Liang.

#mortal kombat #subcage #sub zero #kuai liang #johnny cage #🗺️au gust 2024

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peachesofteal · 2 years ago

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Beltane

A Witchling world one shot.

Morpheus/reader Witchling masterlist – AO3 3.8k words Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, brief descriptions of sex, angst, sad feelings, cigar smoking, discussions of death and dying. Notes: Beltane is the modernized/bastardized/whateverized version of Bealtaine but for ease of understanding purposes I just wrote it as Beltane. Your grief threatens to extinguish your glow, and a new tradition is born in The Dreaming.

The sun was always shining here. Bright and cheery, it filtered through the cottage’s windows, beaming down onto your face every day it rose. Obnoxious. This morning was no different, and you buried your face down in your pillow to try to escape the blinding rays. Maybe if you closed your eyes, you could go back to sleep. You grumbled aloud, cursing the cottage for its stubbornness that has put you in this predicament. No matter what you tried, The Dreaming would not allow you to conjure black out curtains for your room. Let you have a king size bed? Sure. Conjure a whole, freshly tilled garden out back and seeds so you could start planting? Go for it. But black out curtains so you can sleep in? Guess not.

You shove your head back into the pillow when you hear the tapping at the glass, Matthew’s tell-tale knock forcing you up with a sigh.

“Are you working in the library today?” he asks as he settles on the kitchen table, his usual spot for his morning treat. Matthew has been reaping the benefits of having a recently deceased person living in The Dreaming. You baked, often. You made muffins, cookies, scones, anything and everything, passing the goods out to residents of The Dreaming or leaving them in the library for Lucienne and others. Matthew always got first dibs, flying down to the little cottage past Fiddler’s Green almost everything morning to say hi and get his snack.

“I am.” You put a blueberry scone on a plate in front of him, and he makes a pleased trilling sound in his beak.

“Lord Morpheus is in a foul mood.” He advises you, but you shrug. It won’t affect you. Morpheus avoids you like the plague. You tried not to take it too personally, he was a King after all, with an entire realm to look after and care for. You would sometimes probe Lucienne or Matthew about his whereabouts and they would always look at you as if you had grown three heads.

“Lord Morpheus is incredibly busy with the care of The Dreaming.”

“The boss isn’t really one for social visits.”

You had only seen him a handful of times since you came here. He would stop in the library on the days you were working, inquiring about how you were and if you were in need of anything. Sometimes, he would linger after you assured him you were okay, his voice changing from the sharp edge of a monarch to something softer as he asked you if you were ‘settling in alright’. His aloofness confused you, and it was a far cry from the level of intimacy you shared before your death. You were surprised to realize that you missed that level of affection from him, your mind sometimes wandering to the memory of him fucking you open, or his mouth lavishing your clit on the throne, his face covered in your orgasm. Let me taste your light.

You sigh. Sadly, the only thing he seemed to be interested in lately was if you were ‘well’ and settling in.

You supposed you were adjusting okay. It’s been months since you died and woke up in a bed with an anxious, starry eyed Morpheus hovering over you, holding you hand. Your fingers find the black pearl strung around your neck as you remember the hushed conversation you had, your grip on his unyielding as he assuaged your fears.

“So, am I like, a ghost or something?” “No.” He strokes a soft pattern on your skin, eyes searching yours. “Am I a dream?” his lips quirk, one corner lifting slightly into a small smile. “No, witchling. You are no dream.” “But I’m dead?”

“Your mortal life has ended. The pearl you wear keeps your mind, body and spirit preserved so that you may exist in The Dreaming, for however long you choose.”

You did choose. You were not ready to seek whatever lay beyond the end of life; that you knew for certain. Instead of going to what he called the Sunless Lands, his sister’s realm, you decided to stay in The Dreaming.

“And my magic?” “Your magic remains intact; however, it is a part of The Dreaming now, just as you are. You will find it different than you remember.”

It was different. Vastly so. You were surprisingly more powerful, your magic bending and weaving within the frame of the realm, your ability to call upon it eased, the confines of your mortal body no longer a barrier between you and your power. It was intoxicating. You hadn’t expected to retain your magic, let alone have this much unfettered access.

He trusts you. You concluded with a startling revelation one day as you bent The Dreaming so you could conjure a claw foot tub in the cottage. He could easily stop you from using magic in his realm with the snap of his fingers. But he doesn’t. The knowledge settled in your heart with a light thump, the idea that Morpheus held such confidence in you warming your cheeks with pride.

Matthew caws, snapping you out of your memory with a jump and you give him an apologetic smile as you get up to pour yourself more coffee.

“I’m sorry to hear he’s in a pissy mood. I know that probably makes your day hell.” Matthew’s head bobs, his version of a shrug.

“He’s been worse. At least it’s not raining.” You sigh. You wouldn’t hate a little rain right now. You keep having to conjure giant buckets of water to care for your garden. “And it’s about to be summer in the Waking World, which has been nice. It’s not frigid cold every time I have to go there.” You freeze. About to be summer.

“Do you know the date?” you ask mildly, the reflection in your coffee staring up at you. “I think it’s April 27th.” A pang of sadness so strong comes out of left field and nearly knocks you senseless. You can practically hear the echo of your mother and her sisters in the cottage, their weeklong preps for Beltane bringing them together every year under one roof, your grandmother micromanaging them while she forced you to sit and listen to her recount years of tradition. Cétshamhain is your history, child. You’d be wise to listen to it’s lessons. You can feel the smart of tears in your eyes as you close them. Would you have seen them? In the Sunless lands? Did you give up an opportunity to be reunited with your family? Would you just have gone straight to hell? Would they be so pissed at you over the grimoire? You think about everything probably going on at home, the community preparing for the festival, boughs of yellow flowers lining doors and windows. You didn’t have many friends when you were alive, but you were known, and always welcomed on Beltane. Longing thrums in your chest, the feeling so vibrant that it has tears falling down your cheeks before you can get a handle on yourself. Matthew caws, alarmed.

“Hey, you okay?” you shake it off, forcing the wistfulness from your limbs as if you’re stretching out sore muscles.

“Yeah. Fine, just got distracted. Sorry.” You pop the last of your scone in your mouth and pack up the leftovers for Lucienne. “We should probably get going.”

A dark cloud of hangs over your head the rest of the day. You tuck yourself into a corner with the stack of miscellaneous books Lucienne handed to you, taking your time finding where they belong. Your mind is stuck, trapped in an endless loop of thoughts of your family, the festival, your own death. Did you make a mistake? Did you sacrifice an eternity of being with your family to stay here? Would this ever feel like home? Your hand grips the pearl around your neck tightly.

“Excuse me?” you jump, startled by the small voice of a dream. A wraith like girl stands a few feet from you, her body translucent like a ghost. You recognize her right away; you’ve seen her many times in The Dreaming. She’s visited your cottage with Cain and Abel in tow. You think you’d consider her a friend, even. You relax at the sight of her face, and she gives you an apologetic smile. “Lucienne mentioned that you might be able to help me find a book?” She gives you the name of the dreamer she is researching, and you motion for her to follow you.

“Of course.” You locate the volume in question quickly and go to pull it from where it sits on the shelf when she speaks again.

“Are you alright?” Your fingers dig into the leather-bound spine, and your force breath in and out through your nose.

“Yes.” The false cheer in your voice is flimsy at best, and she gives you an odd look. “Did you need anything else?”

“No, this is it. Thank you.” her smile is genuine as she bids you goodbye. “It was good to see you.” she adds over her shoulder, and you return the sentiment. You drag yourself off to settle back into a corner, this time making sure you couldn’t be found.

You puff the cigar slowly, the cherry and wood flavor of the smoke warming your mouth as you attempt to blow circles from your lips. You had finished up late today, the sun already set by the time you left, and you stumbled upon Merv smoking under a stone archway. Just your luck. You had always liked the taste of a cigar.

“Like this, kid.” You passed it back and he demonstrated, earning him a laugh as you watched smoke rings disappear into the night sky.

“Okay, okay. Let me try.” You’re just about to take a pull when the swing of a familiar black coat in the dark catches your eye, and your spine immediately straightens. Merv clears his throat with a cough.

“Er, hey Boss.” Merv says. Your eyes look down to your feet, fingers still clutching the lit cigar.

“Mervyn. There is an issue in the library that requires your attention.” Merv stands with a huff, and you hand the cigar back to him with a slight grimace. He grumbles under his breath as he stalks off.

“Hello.” Morpheus stands stiffly before where you’re sitting, his shoulders high and tight, teeth gnashed together tensely. You chew on the inside of your cheek, the tingling in your nose nearly making your eyes water with the need to sneeze. What’s his deal?

“Hi.”

“May I sit?”

“It’s your realm.” Your voice is bitter and rough. He ignores it.

“How are you faring?” you beat back the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m good.”

“Are you?” You tilt your head in confusion. “You have become a beloved figure in The Dreaming, witchling. The residents are eager to voice their concerns when they fear something may be wrong with their dear friend.” Gossip. He means the residents have been gossiping about you and your terrible mood. Conflict roars in your ears as guilt wars with your sadness. You regret being so short with the wraith from earlier, you hope you haven’t hurt her feelings.

“I’m fine. Just going through some stuff.” You’re not particularly eager to share how you feel with him. He’s been practically a stranger for months, and now he wants to know how you’re faring?

“Stuff.” The word sounds foreign as it falls from his mouth. He studies your face for a moment before his head snaps in the other direction, eyes focusing on something far off in the distance, and he stands in a hurry. “I apologize, I must attend-“ you wave your hand.

“Go. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” You chuckle drily. Something dark flashes across his features before he’s evaporating in a cloud of shadow and you’re alone again.

The next morning, you are returning from a walk with the wisps when your nose starts to tingle. The sensation jerks your head up, eyes scanning in every direction for the Endless that you know must be somewhere close by. When you step out of the woods and into the clearing where the cottage sits, you’re surprised to see him standing on the porch, waiting for you.

“Are you well?” he asks as you rest a foot on the bottom step, looking up at him. Something is different. He looks, almost nervous?

“I am. Are you?” you answer quickly, unsure what to do with him lingering so awkwardly on the porch.

“I am.”

“That’s good.” You glance around as the tips of your ears burn. “Do you uh, wanna come inside?”

“Yes.” You gulp nervously as you gesture for him to step forward, your legs a little shaky as you follow him through the door. It occurs to you that he hasn’t been here since you’ve… upgraded the cottage, so to speak. What if he hates it? What if he doesn’t approve? The cottage is his, it’s a part of his realm. What if he doesn’t want you to change it? You glance around in a panic before closing your eyes to steel your nerves.

“You have made changes.” Your throat tightens as you wring your hands together and nod.

“Yup. Ah, just a few. To kind of modernize it. And I wanted a bathtub.” You rush to explain. He nods thoughtfully.

“I am pleased you are making it your home.” The celestial sparks that are his eyes met yours, and your skin ripples with goosebumps. Is it hot in here? His expression grows somber. “I regret that I have not been able to spend more time with you, witchling. It occurs to me that you may be suffering.”

“What? No, I’m not suffering.”

“It is natural to mourn. You have lost your mortal life.” You don’t understand how he knows, but he does. The pulse of sadness beats under your skin. “I wish to ask you if you would spend the evening with me, tomorrow.” You peer up at him slack jawed. Your heart takes off at a gallop, excited, before it comes crashing to a stop. He feels bad for you.

“Do you pity me, Morpheus?” your tone is flat.

“No, but I have neglected you. You have been hurting and I… have not been here. I would like to remedy my mistake.” You purse your lips, and shrug. Be cool, be cool. Don’t squeal.

“Okay. Sure.” He smiles at you, one of his small ones, the kind that only lifts the corners of his eyes slightly, but it still melts you to your core.

He does not linger after your agreement, departing quickly to attend something in the realm. As he goes, he brings your knuckles to his lips like he did that day you woke up here, the feeling of his touch soothing and igniting something inside your heart.

You spend your day in the library, performing your usual tasks for Lucienne. Oddly, there are less today than there ever are, but you don’t question it as you’re grateful it means you’ll be able to slip out earlier.

There’s a note scrawled on brittle paper sitting on your kitchen table when you finally make it back to your cottage.

Please accompany Matthew to Fiddler’s Green at sunset. I will join you later.

“Matthew?” you call out. A little caw sounds from your loveseat.

“Right here.”

“What’s going on in Fiddler’s Green?” you’re perplexed. What is happening?

“It’s a surprise.” Matthew says and you immediately become nervous. You hate surprises. You bitch about it as you change, fussing with yourself in the mirror while Matthew tries to assure you that this is a good surprise, and that you’ll like it. You’re still putting up a fight about as you both leave the cottage, the wisps lighting the way in the dusk of the setting sun.

When you crest the hill that looks down on the valley of Fiddler’s your breath catches in your throat. Your feet become immobile, and you stand quietly in shock, trying to register what is happening.

“What is this?” You turn to Matthew, your face confused. You can’t quite wrap your head around what you’re seeing. But when you do, when you make the connections, your face scrunches up with emotion.

Your vision grows blurry with tears as you watch the residents of The Dreaming move between large pyres. Music drifts in the air, the beat of drums vibrating through the ground, the voices of dreams and nightmares blending together as one.

Beltane.

You nearly cry as The Dreaming gives you the honor of lighting the first pyre. The residents gather around, each with their own piece of wood to contribute to it. It’s different from the traditional aspect of the festival, but you love it all the same. You watch in awe as fires spark throughout the valley, laughter and contentment resonating through every single dream and nightmare in attendance.

You’re breathless. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing, legs tired and weak from dancing in circles between the fires all night. Merv even slipped you some dark liquid that you think was The Dreaming’s version of liquor. You stumble off into the dark, away from the burning fires and raucous crowd, tripping into the heavy wood of Fiddler’s Green. It’s darker here, the pyres raging in the distance, hooting and hollering echoing over the hills. You wipe the sweat from your brow with your shirt, hiking your skirt up to free your legs and cool yourself down.

“I have been looking for you.” his voice, cool and deep, floats over you softly. The wisps shiver, their soft light flickering, illuminating the Endless who is suddenly standing before you. You lick your lips.

“Morpheus…”

“Witchling.” You both stand silent before each other, and you’re about to ask him where he’s been when he speaks. “I have something I would like to show you, if you would care to join me?” He holds his hand out to yours, supernovas blinking in his eyes.

“You did all this for me?” you ask as you walk, stepping carefully on the path to avoid anything that could knock you off course. You don’t want to let go of his hand. Ever.

“I had assistance.”

“Morpheus, thank you… it was incredible. I can’t even begin to tell you how perfect it was. It was beautiful… I feel very lucky.” You grin broadly, your exuberance overflowing. The wisps reflect your mood, their warm glow shining more intensely, shimmering in the dark like stars themselves. You feel his eyes watching you, and you grip his hand tighter.

You stand perplexed as he brings you to a halt outside of the cottage. At first, you don’t notice anything amiss. It’s dark, and your eyes strain to catalogue your surroundings.

But then you hear it.

The soothing sound of running water. The wisps brighten, and your eyes find a moss-covered mound, with an opening in its center revealing a small pool.

“This is a freshwater spring. I am aware you have been conjuring water so that you may nourish your garden. I hope this will ease that burden.”

“You made me a well. On Beltane.” Does he know? The light trickling sounds of the water fills the silence between you two as you glance over, the knowledge that he holds of every culture, every custom, every ritual blinking back at you. Of course, he knows. “You made me a well, on Beltane.”

“I did.” And idea sparks in your mind, and you turn, reaching out to touch his arm briefly.

“Wait right here, please.” Sprinting off into the cottage, you grab the object you need hastily, returning to his side as quickly as you can manage.

“The first water drawn from a well on Beltane is said to bring luck for the rest of the year.” You dip your mug into the babbling spring, bringing it up full. “Will you share it with me, Dream of the Endless?” The formal use of his moniker feels familiar and true, and warmth coils in your stomach.

“Yes.” He answers. You lift the china to your lips, drinking the water deep into your soul and then pass it to him. You envision good fortune, for both of you, and push the other potential blessings far from your mind. You supposed you could invoke fertility for your garden, but the risk is too great, the concentration of power in this realm is too strong, and Hecate forbid you end up making that kind of mistake. His fingers brush yours during the exchange, the swell of longing rising in you again. It’s not home you’re sick for this time, but him. He closes his eyes as he drinks, and you watch his throat bob as he swallows. You’re illuminated by the moon and the wisps, the soft light from both casting onto his flawless skin, and you envision it flush against yours. You shift your body away, face moving to a different direction lest you get caught staring, again. Wisps dance in your line of sight, their light momentarily distracting you when he says your name, the inflection impressed with a sentimental fondness that tugs at your heart.

You turn and realize he’s staring at you, tracing your face reverently as if you’re the only thing in existence. His eyes blaze, the starlight in his gaze captivating, pulling you closer until you’re standing right in front him, the wisps glowing in a circle around you both.

“Morpheus.” You breathe.

“I must admit something to you.”

“Oh?”

“When you first woke here, after your death, you asked me if you had become a dream.” You nod, remembering. “I said you were not a dream, but I am afraid that was a lie.” You startle and look up to him with wide eyes. He places a hand on your cheek, palm cradling your face like you mean something. Like you matter.

“Am I actually a dream, Morpheus?” He shakes his head no, finger coming to stroke the pearl around your neck.

“You are the dream of an Endless.” His mouth meets yours, and your eyes slide shut instinctively as your body responds, your own lips moving with his, the kiss effortless and tender. As he draws away, stars swirl above you, dropping from The Dreaming’s atmosphere to streak across the rich velvet of the night sky. His hand gently tilts your head upward, and you stand together as he holds you close, the outline of his profile illuminated by the celestial show above. You stay there for what feels like hours, until he presses his forehead to yours and whispers,

“You are my dream, little star.”

#dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #peaches writes #witchling #dream of the endless x original female character

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