Hello! When is the next part of first times coming up? Anyways, I love your fanfics sooooo much <3 thanks for making this community so much better 🫶
Hey hey hey @ant0weems !! It’s right here!!! Thank you for your caring words 💞 I do my best, babes <333 —Added request from @principal-weems09 : “Strap on maybe? Please please please your work is amazing” Thank you all for your patience. This one’s a lot… Hope you Enjoy ♥️
First Times Ch 5: Higher Level of Involvement ~Larissa Weems xFem Student!& Sorcereress!Reader
Link to Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4
Mommy… Masterlist
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, ANGST, smut, loving and intimate sex, strap-fucking (R receiving), enchanted strap, Sorcery(R), mistress kink, praise kink, first time penetration for reader, kissing, tears, unhappy cliffhanger, etc.
Enjoy (;
“I’d like to do something new with you today, my Dear…” Larissa hummed, “not intense, but a level up. I’d like to take care of you today, Darling.”
You shuddered lightly at the prospect of this new, mysterious thing.
“Yes please, mistress…”
Larissa hummed in satisfaction at you using the correct term.
“Already off to a good start with your manners, sweet girl…” Larissa purred.
Larissa then stood up from her desk chair and walked over to your sitting frame. She lended you a hand, which you happily took, as you stood up, flush up against the tall, blonde.
“To the bedroom…?” She seductively hummed.
You bit your lip and nodded.
“Please mistress…” you whimpered.
Larissa took you by the hand to her private quarters.
“Your mistress is going to take such good care of you, my darling…” she cooed, closing the door to her bedroom behind you.
With the morning all to yourselves, you two took your time undressing each other. The blondes hands caringly caressed your frame, slowly removing each article of clothing. You did the same, unzipping the woman’s dress, letting it pool on the ground. Both your undergarments were next to go, then leaving you both standing in front of each other, nude. Larissa guided you to the back of the bed until you fell backwards onto the mattress.
“Wait here, love.”
“Yes mistress…” you whimpered.
Larissa then disappeared into her closet for a while, before coming back out. She was adorning a purple 6in strap. Your eyes widened and your breath hitched at the sight.
This certainly was a step up…
“Color, Sweet girl…?” Larissa lovingly checked in.
“Green Mistress.” You confirmed.
“Good girl…” Larissa cooed, now crawling onto the bed.
She easily guided you into the middle of the bed, spreading your legs, only to reveal your slick cunt. The blonde then reached over to the bedside table, and she grabbed a bottle of lube. This relieved the tightness in your chest a bit. She applied the lube onto the faux cock generously, before placing the bottle back on the nightstand.
Larissa then positioned herself above you, lining her dick up with your aching hole.
“Wait…” you muttered, suddenly being hit with an idea.
“What? What’s the matter?” Larissa quickly and concerningly asked, pulling away.
“No no, it’s okay…” you reassured her, pulling the blonde back to you and her cock back against your entrance, “I just had an idea…”
“Oh…?”
You then muttered a spell underneath your breath.
“I enchanted it.” You breathed out with a grin.
Larissa’s eyes widened and her throat went dry. And without another word, she began to push into you. You both groaned out in unison, Larissa being able to feel your walls with the strap-on enchantment and you being new to the feeling of being so full.
“Oh my… Oh—” you choked out in a mix of pleasure and pain, as the woman slowly filled your tight hole.
“Breathe, sweet girl, breathe…” Larissa caringly whispered, “The pain will subside, I promise…”
You did your best to take deep breaths. Your hands clawed against the blonde bare back, as your whole body pulsed in pleasure as the woman’s dick finally bottomed you out. Larissa stayed there until you gave the go ahead. You felt so fucking full, but there was aching pain in your core that needed subsiding. Larissa let out a low groan at how your walls were fluttering around her dick.
“I… can you… move mistress… please…?” You stuttered.
Larissa nodded lovingly as she began to slowly pull back and then back into you. Your breathing was staggered and your cheeks were flushed red. Low groans fell from both your lips, your skins slapping each other slowly.
“Such a good girl… taking me so well…” Larissa praised you, fucking you into the mattress slowly and lovingly.
It felt intimate…
It felt loving…
It felt vulnerable..
She continued to thrust into you, speeding up just a little bit, making you whimper and breathily moan out even more. Her sounds got louder and more lewd as well.
“This alright, love…?” Larissa breathily groaned.
“Yes yes yes, mistress…!” You breathily chanted, “please so good…!”
At one point, her thrusting slowed back down again, eliciting a whimper from your lips. Larissa met your gaze with care and dare you say— love…?
“I’d like to swing your left leg over my shoulder, sweet girl… Would that be alright?” She breathed out, struggling to string her words together, as her mind was so far in the pleasure of fucking you.
“Yes please, please mistress…” you panted.
The blonde then hooked your left leg around her shoulder and began her thrustings once more. This time, her dick was hitting a whole new part of your throbbing cunt. More mewls and moans spilled from your lips. Larissa was pushing you and her both closer and closer to the edge. A few more slow, intentional, deep thrusts from the blonde, brought your right to the edge. And Larissa herself right alongside you.
“Sweet Girl, I can feel your walls fluttered like mad around my dick…” Larissa breathily moaned, “Wanna cum for your mistress…?”
You nodded vigorously, screwing your eyes tight shut and scratching up the blondes back even more.
“Wanna cum…! Wanna cum mistress please…!!” You pleaded.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart… And cum for me…”
Your eyes fluttered open to the sight of the blonde goddess above you. She sent you over the edge. Her heavy breathing… Her glazed over, caring eyes…. Her trembling lips… Her luscious, cascading, platinum locks…
You came with sweet cries, licking your legs around Larissa’s waist, as she fucked you through your high. She started to slow down afterwards, but you stayed connected to her, shaking your head.
“Want you to cum…” you breathlessly mewled, “inside me… please mistress…”
Larissa’s eyes widened and she gulped. She wanted nothing more. And how could she refuse you… So, the blonde continued to thrust into you, about to reach her high.
“Make me yours…” you pleaded, “Wanna be yours mistress please…!”
Larissa’s breath hitched. Back to what she had deflected earlier. Commitment…
“Are you sure, love…?” Larissa nervously whispered.
“Yes yes yes, please I’m yours, take me…” you whimpered, pleading to the blonde with your eyes.
But before Larissa could get another thought in, she came with a guttural moan. You moaned right alongside her, seeing the blonde in such ecstasy above you. The blonde collapsed beside you, panting heavily and stunned, trying to process everything that’s happening. Silence took the room, before Larissa began,
“Darling I—”
“I can’t just be the servant to your mistress…” you breathed out, interrupting Larissa.
Larissa gulped. You sat up and looked over to the blonde.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not who you are to me. I… I don’t mind the pet name during sex, but you mean more to me than that outside the bedroom…” you admitted.
Larissa sat up as well, still adorning the strap, meeting your gaze with pursed lips and a slight blush. She sighed. She had to ask. Ask the question she’d been avoiding the answer to.
“What do I mean to you then?”
“I’m… I’m not sure… But it’s more than just sex…” you whispered.
Larissa gulped. She looked away.
“You’re a student and I’m the headmistress… I shouldn’t have started this in the first place… It’s evident that with feelings around, this should be ended… I’m sorry…”
What…?
A wave of emotions washed over you. Anger. Sadness. Fear. Betrayal. Loss. Your eyes began to water. You had to get out of here before you started crying.
“Fine.” You muttered, getting up and quickly putting on your clothes.
You were gone in a matter of minutes. And that’s when the guilt hit Larissa. She’d fucked you and then left you high and dry. She hadn’t helped you out of your sub-like space. She hadn’t cared for you afterwards. She’d just fucking deflected again. She’d been a fucking coward. And now you were gone.
What had she done…??
~~~
Chapter 6 ~Work in Progress… (Happy ending coming, I promise!!!) 😚
Larissa Weems Masterlist
First Times Tag list: (To be added to the tag list, simply comment and I’ll add you) @snakeskins-world @friskyfisher @just-your-casual-nerd @scream-queenlover @bobia13 @justcallmelittleone @dopenightmaretyphoon @killer-quill @im-a-carnivorous-plant @larissaoftarthweems @what-a-violet-world @a-queen-and-her-throne @liliweems @ant0weems @principal-weems09 @larissaweemsgf @shyladyfan @elijahslittleprincess @simpsforwomen @psychopathicnightmare17 @walkethisway @wifeymaterialsstuff @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kimiinou @enchantressb @sicklygrlsicklygrl @larissa-weems-chokehold @teenybean @lucky1fancy4wolf @sapphicsbeloved @dingdongthetail @lovelyy-moonlight @thesamesweetie @wheresmyboo @dvrkhcld @tahliama @hasthebaconinhispants @winterfireblond @willowshadenox @gwendolinechristieiscute @thenazwife @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @lovelyy-moonlight
yandere rhaenyra x sorceress fem reader (light yandere not really dark preferably) headcanons or another format if you like. -reader can possibly have kids w/ her (which might help when rhaenyra is with laenor is you make her a sorceress from descended from old Valeryia so has the targaryen look & later she can be the one to get pregnant if wanted) -she could also be a dragon rider at one point -viscerys may even love her no matter what the hightowers say because she has magic from old valaryia (might give her more influence than the hightowers do) -meaning rhaenyra could stay in the keep. - laenor stays or you make them get with daemon (or they get together privately if you want to keep laena alive cause the reader can save her)
- reader even be able to save jeoffry I'm going to stop with my ideas as they may go on and on, sorry this was so long I got carried away (I or someone else, or you if you want may be able to turn this into a full on story one day)! Some side platonic yandere shorts could be made from this
hey lovie! so happy to receive this request it was very fun to write :) <3 i would be happy to write more detail in a fic but unfortunately i couldn't go too in depth on this current post but if i do write one up i will tag you :)
pronouns: she/her
warnings: both sfw and nsfw sections
SFW
now as a blueprint i'm going to go through a little thought process of reader & rhaenyra
i went down the route of reader keeping majority to Valyrian lore
and i think in this case Rhaenyra would be more of an obsessing yandere
lets say that reader is a descendant of Valyrian blood, perhaps her family escaped The Doom because they foresaw it, perhaps later aligning with Aegon I as he conquered Westeros so long as he kept their family a secret and so he ensured both their safety and their stay under his rule
however things sour after he has passed and they flee
they become a mere rumour and legend which King Viserys ends up telling to his children with fervent delight, dreaming of the day they might return
Rhaenyra drinks this up not only because it is intriguing but also because the beautiful artwork he shows to her look magnificent, fire encircling them and blood locking their promises
she will have pretended as a little girl to be one of these sorcerers, twirling with her mother in patterns befitting ceremonies and copying their olden styles
however as she gets older she pretends to forget the mysterious sorcerers and instead focuses on maintaining her title as heir, demanding the same respect she is sure her ancestors' dear allies must have
and yet one night, when she is tending to her courtly duties, she hears the most humorous little rumour
that there is a witch among the grounds, they whisper
and then it is brought up at a council meeting and her blood heats, a gasp drawing from her mouth in match with the Queen's
they both share a glance, recalling the games they had played as children before the pattering of feet
they expect to see a fearful lamb pleading for sanctuary but instead they find you
beautiful, regal you
Rhaenyra thinks you look more a Queen than either of them and she stands in respect, shocking the court
the men around you gape but you simply smirk in approval
"Your grace," You greet, only holding contact with her as you curtsy only so slightly
Alicent coughs and stands also, determined to maintain composure
you explain that you have been orphaned and bring forth the written promise of Aegon I to care for your little family
Alicent requests proof with a concerned stiff expression and you gladly provide
with the flick of your wrist you summon a dragonglass candle from the skirt of your dress and stare deep into the spot in which a wick should be placed
in a flash it alights and broadens before your eyes
gasps enrapture but again you snap your sights on Rhaenyra and only Rhaenyra
she gives the barest of nod "we...hope you enjoy the comforts of court." she merely says and instructs her own personal guard to escort you to the guest chambers closest to her own
she can't get the image of your self-assured expression out of her mind
you are utterly bewitching with your snowy hair and tussled skirts
her sights linger on the ankle that peaks through as you hike up your said skirts
Alicent clears her throat and gives a pointed stare but it takes all of Rhaenyra's self control to settle herself back in her chair but everyone at the table share wary glances
she doesn't see you again until late the next day, requesting your presence for dinner and conveniently forgetting that her husband will be off for a hunt with his...dear friend
excitement shoots through her in powered waves
however she is disappointed to learn that her father too has requested your presence and her family have decided upon a collective dinner so that they may all meet the curious sorceress
Viserys is instantly engaging conversation with you the moment you sit down and before that, greets you in a warm embrace
he is a curious man who knows you too must carry the stories of your ancestors and he is eager to learn
for most of the evening Rhaenyra watches in curiosity, watching how your hair sways and your angelic features resemble her most ardent dreams
she has to restrain herself, grip tightening on her fork
it's that night that she makes her intentions clear to you and she's relieved to see your acceptance
Rhaenyra Targaryen is not one to hide her emotions nor her desires
your relationship is turned into a powerful storm of heat and danger, Otto's eyes narrowing everytime you enter a room
he proclaims you as a most unholy being and one to be banished which Viserys does not take kindly too
instead he is sent far away and Alicent is brought to the highest frustration as you attend almost every family outing or event with Rhaenyra proud at your side in the space her husband used to occupy
if anyone even slightly threatens or questions your presence at court she will be quick to scold and imprison them
going so far as to threaten their head
it's late in your coupling that you whisper sweet words in her ears, describing the imagery of her father's crown atop her head and a child born of you both
she knows all of your family's hidden secrets by now and while she and Laenor have not been graced with an heir by the Gods, you offer both a dream and solution
instead of accepting your offer of fertility in regards to her husband, she tucks back your hair and caresses your face
her lips dip down on yours and then breathes into your ear three sweet word "I want yours," she slips her kisses down your neck and presses your palm to her soft stomach
once the babe is born it doesn't matter whose dominant genes he inherits because with a gentle stroke of his hair it can turn as pale as winter snow
some may still question the child's true parentage considering the early birth and supposed consummation's circumstances do not quite align
but it matters not for your future Queen is determined to instil the confidence of a monarch
where Rhaenyra's tendencies come in I think she could become very smothering and clingy, sticking to you every possible moment that she is able
i could see this being a big relief for both Viserys and Laenor
Viserys' line will be continued and his daughter is happy, he wants to preserve this happiness, if you did request to return to your original home or to wander elsewhere i could see him suddenly developing a 'very important' project that he needs your assistance with
i think Laenor would also attempt to keep you close with his wife
i think i could picture Rhaenyra tricking you into a traditional Valyrian wedding or at least attempting to without explaining the possible repercussions of this
she's impulsive and devoted to you, nothing is out of her sphere of protection
her presence engulfs you with sweet words and soft promises
in this au i could imagine a much happier Rhaenyra in all aspects but it also means giving her the daughter she has always wished for
even more, she adores the fact that you are beside her while whichever one of you births the beautiful darlings with hair so regal and beauty gifted from you
NSFW
she's all too eager to pleasure you
you are the most magnificent beautiful and powerful being she has ever witnessed and she want to show you in every lewd and respectable way she can imagine
her most ardent desire however is the promise you whisper against her soft thighs, speaking of golden crowns and forsaking your duties in favour of delighting your Queen
her favourite though is when you sink your fingers between her lower lips and glide your tongue along her slick
the way your nails tickle her thighs and slide up to pebble her nipples and playing with those sensitive buds
she likes to let go with you
it's freeing to be finally enact upon the fantasies of her teenhood
she says often and plays with the words of you bewitching her, it sends a delightful shiver down her spine
tags: @gracielikegrapes
Hotd Taglist: (bold and italics means you need to check your settings, it didn't work)
part one/sequel to A Strange Slice of the Big Apple
Doctor Strange Appreciation Event- Day 14: Free Choice
summary: Cloak wants to make sure that Stephen isn't forgotten on his birthday, and enlists Reader's assistance to plan a special celebration. Set pre-Infinity War.
characters: Cloak of Levitation, Soreceress Reader, Stephen Strange
genre: fluff, pining, humor
rating: general audience
word count: 1.6k
Chapter One
Cloak knew its Sorcerer well; knew him well enough to have a keen understanding of Stephen’s feelings about the upcoming milestone. Feelings that ran even deeper than Stephen himself realized. Oh, he acted blasé about the matter—as though he had outgrown celebrating the year’s experiences and accomplishments, not to mention the spectacular success he’d had in his mastery of the Mystic Arts; the unqualified success which had eventually led to his appointment as Master of the New York Sanctum.
Having finally achieved the honest humility that would have suited him equally as a doctor, as it did now as a sorcerer in service to humanity, Stephen rarely allowed himself to dwell upon what he had once thought of as his glory days—the years he had been admired and celebrated as the best in his profession, had been sought after for high-profile speaking engagements and media interviews, had lived a fast, opulent lifestyle, while single-mindedly advancing the science of neurosurgery to spectacular heights. Days when he had never thought twice about throwing himself a self-indulgent birthday party, sparing no expense. Such memories left him with a strong sense of shame, as so many of his recollections of his selfish behavior in his old life.
Cloak understood it all, as well as Stephen’s sadness over his softer memories—especially those of the quiet birthday getaways he had spent with Christine, which he had come to realize too late, were the best birthdays of his life. But Christine had moved on—for the best, Stephen acknowledged, if only to himself—and he knew he could never return to those days. And for the most part, he didn’t want to—for he understood now what was most important in the grand scheme of things, and had accepted that his birthday was just an unnecessary distraction from the vital mission that was his now.
However, deep in his heart—deep and hidden from his consciousness—Stephen wished that someone, anyone, would just remember, and simply acknowledge that it was his birthday. Cloak—who knew the best of Stephen, and who had not only witnessed him sacrificing himself a thousand times over to save Earth from Dormammu and the Dark Dimension, but had also accompanied him on several dozen other forays against threats from throughout the multiverse—decided it would just have to find a way to see that unspoken wish fulfilled.
Of course, Cloak realized that this was a task far beyond its own physical capabilities, so that it would need the help of a human ally. It’s first thought had been to reach out to Christine, but Cloak summarily rejected that as an impossibility—even if she might be inclined to arrange for a birthday celebration despite having closed the door on their intimate past, Cloak couldn’t be seen zipping about the City to her hospital or apartment, out of the company of its Sorcerer. Such behavior could jeopardize the secrecy of the New York Sanctum, let alone that of the Mystic Brotherhood that served so selflessly in Earth’s defense. If Cloak were to find the help it needed it would have to be an initiate of the Mystic Arts, and in order to guarantee the best communication between Relic and Human, it should be someone with whom Cloak already shared an affinity.
Several months back, there had been an Adept who accompanied a group of younglings from Kamar-Taj on a tour of the New York Sanctum; Cloak had perceived right away that she held strong feelings of admiration for Stephen Strange. Beyond the typical hero-worship it often sensed among impressionable Novices and callow Adepts, this one’s attitude was colored by something more personal—a romantic “crush”, as humans referred to it. This one would be an ideal choice to assist with Cloak’s plan; it would only require a visit to Kamar-Taj for Cloak to reach out to her, and Strange was actually planning one quite soon. Surely this was more than just a coincidence, Cloak decided; surely the stars themselves had aligned enough to turn that plan into reality.
Chapter Two
Full length mirrors were a rare commodity in Kamar-Taj, and were primarily utilized for magical purposes rather than just as a looking glass. Individual quarters were equipped with small wall mirrors for grooming purposes---so that you were unable to check how you looked in you new robes before you left your room for the day. But they fit as though custom made, and they felt damn good, so you trusted that you looked as fine as you felt.
Masters robes at last! There had been a few times you had doubted that your path was truly meant to achieve them. But this week you had successfully completed the last of your required courses, had demonstrated your command of all the necessary spells, charms, incantations and potions, in addition to your well-honed skills in battle magic and martial arts---and had fulfilled all the practical tests of experience and performance as part of dozens of missions under the guidance of various masters.
Thus given your choice at last, you had selected Master’s robes of blue and tan. Though the blue was a darker shade than his own, making that selection was still your homage to the Master you had come to admire most (and on whom you maintained a secret crush)---Doctor Stephen Strange. The fact that he was due for a visit today for his regular consultation with other leading Masters of the Mystic Brotherhood was not lost on you; it seemed a happy coincidence that it was also the first day on which you would officially don the regalia of you newly awarded rank.
One last time, you checked your sash to make sure that the knotting lay properly, and that your sling ring hung securely in place, before heading out to the communal dining hall for breakfast. Though your friends and classmates were sure to offer their congratulations once they saw you in your new attire, you found yourself hoping above all that your path would somehow cross with that of the Master of the New York Sanctum. The sooner the better, so he would see for himself that you had attained that milestone rank.
_____________________________________
Since your visit to the New York Sanctum as chaperone for a group of young novices on a field trip, you’d been back there on numerous occasions. All too briefly, as far as your smitten heart was concerned, but then that was never the purpose of those visits. You had relished every opportunity to interact with the brilliant Sanctum Master in residence, who had been as kind, as friendly, and as drolly self-deprecating to you as on that lovely spring day you had accompanied the children---even inquiring about the progress of your studies and offering the use of the Sanctum’s unique resources to broaden your knowledge.
Even better than that, though, Doctor Strange had asked for your assistance with a magical mission in late August, having been impressed by your rapport with and supervision of the younglings training in Kamar-Taj. An orphanage in a small city in Romania had been experiencing an epidemic of severe malaise among the children residing there, though the adults appeared to suffer no ill effects. Several of the orphans had lapsed into inexplicable comas, and after some investigation, local Sorcerers had concluded that a nest of psychic vampyres from a parallel dimension had discovered an ingress into Earth’s reality from it’s own, and were feasting at will upon the vulnerable children. In retrospect, the Mystic Brotherhood eventually determined that those beings were very likely the true source of the Dracula legend.
Strange had headed the team dispatched to Romania, which had done a thorough search to root out any of the malignant creatures hiding in the area, forced them back into their own dimension and then sealed shut the breach that had allowed them entry to Earth. Your task had been not only to assist in the main mission, but to then remain behind a few weeks to keep an eye on the seal to be sure it remained intact, while aiding the Healers with the children as their health eventually improved. Your favorite part of the job, however, consisted of daily, in-person updates to Strange himself, until the Masters were able to conclude that the area had been rendered permanently safe from further threat of attack.
Today, you barely heard the conversations around you and only managed to eat half of your breakfast, what with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in anticipation of seeing him again. If your timing was right, you’d be casually crossing the courtyard just as the dashing Master of the New York Sanctum was set to arrive.
And sure enough, there he as chatting in the midst of a small group of Masters, including Wong, who now doubled as the compound Master Librarian while also assisting Doctor Strange in Greenwich Village whenever the need arose. You straightened your shoulders, took a depth breath, and began to stride on a parallel course to where Strange stood. Please look my way, you were thinking, just a glance enough to see me in these robes...
With a surprising bit of good fortune, Stephen actually did look your way, flashing you that dear, amused smile---which never failed to make your heart sigh with longing---and then giving a quick little wave. You couldn’t help the smile which you beamed back, fingers crossed that he had taken note of you new robes.
What you hadn’t expected was a sudden flash of red as the Cloak of Levitation flew as swift and straight as an arrow to envelope you in a warm, soft embrace...
Chapters 3-4 coming November 18th - Stephen's Birthday
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Yeah, these are shitty and rushed- sorry. I need to get caught up with my wiplist though so please, do expect better things in the future.
Lemme add a readmore real quick and--
Did you really think he, a demon incapable of human emotion, would actually love you? Yes, you did.
But to be fair, he played it so well.
He would stroke your hair in the early mornings and plant a kiss on your forehead when you woke up. Your heart would melt seeing how destructive he can be to foes around him, but you? He treats you like a his angel!
And to be fair, you were. Like Cetrion and Shinnok, you were the light to his darkness. Without him, you know how many eveil and rash decisions he would make. With you in his life, he managed to get things done more efficiently without the use of violence.
But what you didn't know is how someone like you could love as much as someone like him could love you.
It's true that cuddling with him may result in amazing memories and his kind words mesmorize you in every sense, but why?
Well, you were the princess of the Orderrealm. A harsh realm of order and law. This realm may be small but with the combined powers of the Netherrealm and Orderrealm, they can both controll the Chaosrealm.
And then all the other small realms become conquered. With the strength of one powerful realms and many mediocre realms comes great power. Taking over either Earthrealm or Outworld would be simple.
Yes, the plan is risky but Quan Chi knows how to get things done. And it all starts with the sweet little bad-boy-loving princess.
His sweet hugs and careless whispers are no more than a deception to make Y/N fall in love with him truly. As she never even loved him to begin with, but when he put her under a spell, he had limited time to make her truly live him.
Underneath each dinner date and vacation through the realms all had their dark intentions. And under a deep spell, put princess could do nothing about it.
But Quan Chi really isn't the PDA type at all and his work gets in the way of their relationship.
Y/N would often be bored when waiting by themself for Quan Chi to return. She loves him but sometimes it'd be more entertaining trying to beat law cases back home.
And in public, she can't even stand too close to him. Of course it annoys her; not kissing or holding hands is okay with her, but she has to keep a distance from him? What the hell.
But back home, he always makes it up to her.
Quan Chi really does have a way with words sometimes. He can get her to do nearly anything such as instantly forgive him. Or maybe it's his magic-
But not that she can even notice. And the more days spent together, she's not even gonna care if he's tricking her if she were to find out. She'd already be too deeply in love with him.
Genre: royal au, magic au, hopelessly romantic, fluff, dashes of angst, taehyung is a brat but in a fun way, y/n is babie, could kinda be considered love at first sight?
Warning(s): toxic royality (the king), brief mentions of isolation/selling of servants, one mean lady who whacks y/n with a dowel rod
Words: 8.2k
Series | One-shot | Two-Shot | Drabble | [Rated: T ]
Summary: You were born with magic. Born by two perfectly normal human parents, you were born in a bright light that others considered cursed. With your father walking out and your mother abandoning you, you were sold to the royal palace in the Lisha Kingdom who had heard of your magic. You were handed over to them not as a person, but as a prisoner. At the age of 5, the king placed you in magic binding items and placed a mask over your mouth, keeping your cursed words of sorcery locked away.
Now, his eldest son who had been living abroad from far off kingdoms to the seven seas- learning and experiencing the world as he knew it- returns to the palace to take his place as the crowned prince and Lisha’s future king. What he can’t seem to wrap his head around, however; is the beautiful servant girl who is always wearing a mask and no matter how much he talks to her, she never talks back.
a/n: so, this is something I started late last year and while at the time, i was super excited to start it, as time passed I let it sit and then when I came back to it, I had no idea what on earth to do with it. So, instead of pressuring myself into something I wouldn’t be happy with, I dusted up the draft I had and I am posting this as an open? unfinished? piece. I have no future intentions of continuing it, even if the ending is so open with room for questions, I simply don’t have the answers. I’m trying to be more fair to myself when it comes to my work and not pressuring myself into writing a story I won’t be happy with. That goes along with not stressing out either. Nonetheless! I hope that what I did get completed was worth the read! ily <3
“I sure hope you are not planning on sneaking off; now are you, Your Highness?” The prince froze mid-step as he was previously attempting to leave his carriage entourage, but got caught by the temporary attendant to make sure he got back to the palace in the process. “We only just entered the capital, what could you possibly be going off to do?”
The platinum-haired prince turned around with an over-dramatic swing and pitiful stomp of his feet on the carriage step. Built with soft yet sturdy muscles from his days traveling and sailing at sea, his tanned skin was the perfect shade to swoon anyone who looked at him. Eyes big and blue in color- a rare trait to have such bright hair and eyes in the royal family.
“I haven’t been home in years!” The prince countered with a pitched fit. “I want to explore before I go to the castle. What’s so wrong with that?”
His attendant only shook his head. “I see your time abroad spoiled you rotten.” The prince inwardly scowled. It did not. “You need to head to the palace and greet your father- the king- immediately. He is no patient man.”
The prince rolled his eyes. He highly doubted his father had changed. Even when he was a small child and still lived with his father in the palace walls, he could remember his strict and blunt father. The stereotype of royalty was upheld to a new level when the focus was put on Lisha’s king. The prince stepped back into the carriage interior before plopping himself across the plush bench. Arms folded behind his head and one of his boot-clad feet kicked up across from him on the opposite bench as he huffed.
“Prince Taehyung! Your attitude is rather uncalled for.”
“Why stand around bickering about it? I thought we had to go see the king immediately?” Taehyung mocked as his leg that hung off the bench bounced against the velvet in some unpatterned rhythm that played the tune of annoyance. The attendant kept his itching argument to himself remembering it wasn't just some bratty kid he was talking to, but the crown prince of Lisha.
He just bowed his head before shutting the carriage door. Soon, Taehyung jostled across his bench when the carriage took off moving forward. The sound of clopping hooves paired with the sound of wheel crunched dirt and stone.
An impatiently sat hour later and Taehyung had been taken into the palace ground, met with his father- as pleasant as that was- for the smallest amount of time used for a visit. Taehyung questioned if it was truly necessary in the first place and then was promptly sent off. Not having nowhere specifically to go to other than his quarters later, he just wandered.
Walking around with dark trousers and a shirt so white and worn it was nearly sheer and obviously two sizes too big as it’s thin fabric puffed as it stayed tucked into his bottoms. The summer was much harsher inland than it was out in the open seas and he can say he had quite the distaste for warm weather.
As he wandered and familiarized himself with his home again, he heard gossip from this way and that. Some about royal unfairness- a fair complaint if Taehyung was honest. Other about pains that began to come with their growing age. And a lot about ‘her’- she never being named. From what he could gather form just passing words of his eavesdropping, someone was employed as a castle servant and not well-liked by her peers. Intrigued, Taehyung finally had a goal in all his aimless walking.
Put his charisma and people skills to work and find the ‘not-very-well-liked’ servant girl.
It was noon by the time Taehyung felt like giving up already. He had spent hours walking around in circles and even talking to a few staff circles but turned up empty-handed to figure out just who this unliked girl was. He stood on the second story of the west wing’s balcony as the summer air was as stagnant as a puddle of warm water. Feeling his sweat roll down his back, he let out a small yelp when something touched the back of his neck.
Jumping back and away to his right, he held his neck and looked to see what touched him. Expecting to see some sort of critter on the ground, he instinctively looked down. Instead of a rodent or bug, he saw a pair of feet. Looking up, he was soon making eye contact with a pair of large- rather pretty- eyes.
His eye shot back down to your feet. Wearing no shoes, but two anklets around each ankle, you were already an odd one to Taehyung. Looking you over, you looked normal, yet not. Dressed in a skirt and corset with a long-sleeved worn maids shirt, it looked like palace work clothing. You wore no gloves as others did and wore a set of two bracelets around your wrists that matched the ones on your ankles. Hair pulled back off your neck completely to try and outwit the heat, Taehyung looked at the mask covering the lower half of your face.
Looking down at your hands, he saw you held a small handkerchief.
“So that’s what touched me!” He exclaimed, letting out a breath of air- relieved it wasn’t a critter after all. Even with all his time out in the open, he still got freaked out at the initial idea of anything creepy-crawly running around on his body. “Sorry for the noise, I hope I didn’t scare you?” He asked, apologizing for how he scampered away from you so suddenly.
You just smiled as your eyes pushed up and shook your head. Taehyung tilted his head a fraction.
“You’re… not a talker are you?” You shook your head again. “What is it? Shy or something?” You shook your head again before you pulled something from a small pouch that was strapped to your side. A small little notepad and a worn, wooden pencil. Scribbling on it with speed to impress the best writer, you were soon holding your notebook in front of Taehyung’s face.
‘I’m not allowed to talk.’
“Not… allowed? Who made that rule up, that’s just ridiculous.” He breathed out.
‘It’s true!’ You wrote as you pointed at it for emphasis as he could see your cheek puff from under your mask.
“But, you can talk, can’t you? Just not allowed to?” You nodded. Taehyung watched as you started scribbling again.
‘I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you visiting the capital?’
“Oh, no- nothing like that.” Taehyung rubbed his neck. “You see, I’m actually-”
“Y/n!” You jumped as you whirled around and saw an older servant at the corner of the balcony- not too far from you and Taehyung. She stomped her way around the corner and to your side, lightly swatting your bare leg with a thin, wooden dowel. “I’m certain you haven’t finished your tasks! You cannot delay, the king expects results and you- cursed child- are hindering them!” You bowed in silent fret before straightening your back.
You turned to Taehyung as quickly as possible, placed your handkerchief in his open hand and pointed to his neck. You fanned yourself as if telling him ‘it’s hot, take care of yourself’ before you rushed off with another thwack of wood to your calf.
Taehyung didn’t even have the chance to get your name- although he heard the servant woman say it. He couldn’t tell you his name, or who he was and here he stood. On the second floor balcony with your white and pink embroidered handkerchief. He wasn’t even able to scold the servant for whacking you with a dowel before she scampered off behind you. It must’ve stung on your skin.
Taehyung was a young man, but as he remembered you writing on your book and how your eyes looked, he chuckled like a child in puppy love. He looked at the handkerchief and folded it neatly before tucking it into the pocket of his trousers. As long as he had that one piece of cloth, he would see you again anyways. He had to return it, he was a gentleman after all.
Xxx
The next morning, Taehyung snuck out of his room before any palace official came to usher him off to his royal princely duties. Walking around in a pair of loose silk trousers and a black button-down of the same fine silk fabric, he padded around in the gardens. The fresh air reminded him of his time outside the palace, he already missed the memories of days prior.
His steps halted when he saw someone crouched by a line of rose beaded shrubs. A pair of shears in their hand as they snipped roses from the bush and placed them into the basket at their side. He smiled when he saw their bare skin and anklets. He walked up behind you before speaking.
“What are you doing out here?” You jumped, shears falling out of your grip and stumbling back onto your rear-end. Looking up and behind your shoulder, you saw Taehyung biting back laughter. Instead of rolling your eyes, he could see them bend into crescents and your cheeks push up under your mask. Lifting the small notepad and pencil at your side up into your lap, you begin scribbling.
Taehyung moved to your side and squatted down at your left. You were soon showing him the notepad.
‘Good morning.’
Taehyung waved cutely at you. “Good morning back. Now, about the shrub?” He pointed to the flowers before you started writing again.
‘I heard the prince came into the castle after a really long time yesterday. I was going to place a basket of flowers as a welcome home for him outside his room. Anonymously of course.’
“Oh? So, you don’t know who the prince is?” You shook your head. “Well!” He perked up. “I’ve heard he’s pretty handsome. Better watch out, cute girls like you could totally be his type.” You just shook your head, denying his little outburst as he just giggled at you. Taehyung hopped closer and picked up your sheers. “So, how do you know which ones to cut?”
You pointed to a bloomed, vibrant rose. You motioned with your hand to find bright, big petaled stems. Following your pointed finger to each bloom he should cut, he snipped roses and placed them into the basket you didn’t yet know was actually for him.
When you finished, you took your shears and the basket and stood. Taehyung offered to walk you back to your room before your royal servant duties began. You allowed him to and you both were on your way. Taehyung did most- all- of the talking. You tried expressing conversation with your hand waves and gestures. Taehyung had a bit too much fun trying to decipher them like a game of charades.
“Hey,” he called when the two of you just walked in silence. “Why can’t you talk?” You looked down and pulled your notepad out.
‘The king hates my voice.’
“Why? You're always barefoot and always wear a mask? Are you sick?”
‘No.’ You started to write, but scribbled something out and wrote something else instead. ‘I don’t think I can tell you.’
“Is it a secret?”
‘Well, no. But, sometimes it’s hard to admit.’
Taehyung nodded and placed his hand on your head. “Sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to upset you.” You only shook your head. “I look forward to seeing your flowers after you’ve arranged them.” You rose your brow before you pointed at your room door, arriving at your room finally.
He let you in and practically danced back to his room. He stopped in his tracks and pressed his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose realizing he once again neglected to tell you his name.
“Next time!” He shouted to no one, promising himself that next time he wouldn’t forget as he marched back to his room.
Xxx
You entered your room that you shared with another servant girl. She often got along with you and didn’t alienate you as others did. Walking in, she was already dressed and awake. She was quick to ask you where you’ve been as you’re not normally allowed to go anywhere without permission or supervision. Royal orders.
You showed her the basket to her before shoving your note in your face.
‘Do you know some guy with light hair who is allowed to walk around the castle in pajamas?’
“What? Some nut-job in his pajamas?” You nodded, lightly flapping your notepad at her for calling him a nut-job. “You’re making it up in a fit of loneliness. Oh god,” you huffed, throwing your notepad down before moving to sit and place flower after flower from your basket to a glass, aqua vase. “The silent treatment, huh?” She teased. She soon left to start her morning.
You waited. Unable to do anything until the sun began to finally rise. The king refused to let you wander the castle unless it was daytime. You had planned to finish the flowers and hoped your supervisor would allow you to deliver them to the prince’s door before your work started. You sighed, doubting it would happen. You soon dressed in your work clothes, took the small vase and left- deciding to take a trip to the prince’s quarters first then meet your supervisor.
Trotting down the hall, you rushed to place the flowers and then run back to your room to wait for your supervisor, hoping not to be caught. Though, luck didn’t seem to be favorable with you in the grand scheme of things.
“Y/n!” The voice of the old woman that is your superior echoed behind you. You immediately stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to meet her angry stomps approaching you with a glare that pinned you down. You unconsciously held the vase closer to your chest. “What in the world are you doing? Heading down the royal halls of our royal family. On top of it all, unauthorized!” You shrunk under her scolding.
“What’s going on here?” A voice calmly addressed behind you. Looking back, it was Taehyung behind you. He had changed his clothes since earlier. Black pants with a white long-sleeved shirt and black vest. Hair now parted and brushed. His fingers decorated in rings and ears pierced with small hoops. Black boots covering his feet.
“Ah-” your superior stuttered. “I- your highness!” you whipped your head back to the old woman. “I apologize for the commotion so early! Y/n here was simply disobeying a set of very specific rules and-”
“I am only hearing excuses.” His voice was sharp in contrast to the warm way he spoke to you earlier on. He grabbed your elbow lightly, getting your attention. He smiled at the red peeking out from under your mask. “You were going to give those flowers to the prince, yes?” You slowly nodded. “Well, can I have them?”
You looked at the flower vase and then back up. You turned around in three clumsy, unsure steps before presenting them to Taehyung. He laughed lowly, graciously removing the vase from your grip into his.
“Thank you, Y/n. I, Taehyung of Lisha, truly appreciate it.” You nodded. He called for your ear as he shot your supervisor a look of ‘stay back and hush’. “Come meet me later, I want to talk more is possible. Okay?” He whispered as you nodded again before you were pulled off to finally start work.
Taehyung took the flowers you gave to him inside his room, placing them in the sunlight on the small side table beside his bed. He laughed smittenly as he poked at the flowers' soft petals. At least he was finally able to tell you his name this time.
Xxx
Taehyung had forgotten how suffocating it could be to be inside the palace. It may be grand and large in scale and size, but the constant hovering and directions as to what and what not to do as prince kept him clicking his tongue. He’d find himself muttering prayers of patience to get through just the formalities. He may have been gone for years, but he didn’t forget how to be princely.
He crossed paths with his father a few times in the halls, only stopping to lower his head to him in respect as he just kept on going, his attendant in tow. Taehyung hissed at his father’s back each time- not even granted a nod in return. He wasn’t sure why, but since knowing that his father hated your voice, he grew ten times more annoyed towards him.
In fact, you occupied many of his thoughts of the day. He just met you, yet he seemed undeniably drawn to you for reasons he wasn’t sure of. Was it because you were dressed so differently than the other servants? Or perhaps you had certain guidelines and rules to follow under the king's directions?
He was currently sitting in the private library with his temporary attendant as they droned on about something or another. Taehyung- much to his aides jargon- sat slumped forward, elbow on the small round table he sat at and cheek cupped in his palm. Utterly bored, he finally found a chance to speak among a minuscule break in his attendants lecture.
“What is the story behind the serving maid with the mask?” He voiced finally. The question brought his lecturing aide to silence before they cleared their throat.
“Your Highness, you needn’t worry-”
“I’m expecting a proper answer,” Taehyung fought. “Do not run me in circles. I will just simply ask about her again.” His eyes kept staring off to nowhere, focusing on nothing in particular. His jaw snapping shut each time he spoke as his palm pushed into his chin from slouching. He heard his aide sigh.
“As you wish.” Taehyung almost tutted with a snide smirk with his clear victory over the barely started discussion- but he refrained. “She was sold to His Majesty as a child.” Taehyung’s heart dropped to his gut, although his face was as calm and unchanging as before. He has had much practice in keeping a bored expression to hide his true emotions from others. “She was sold on the condition the king suppress her abilities because her parents simply did not want a cursed child.”
Taehyung lifted his head to his aide for the first time that afternoon. “Excuse me? Abilities and curses? Are you pulling my leg after I advised you not to?” In actuality, he knew what his attendant was referring to. Magician’s and sorcery.
An exceedingly rare breed of human. He's met only a few before in the past during his travels abroad, but the way this attendant spoke about you was angering him. Pushing him towards a sour mood. Like mentioning your beyond normal abilities would cause some sort of bad karma.
“No, Highness. That servant girl is under constant surveillance and strict restriction as ordered by His Majesty- your father. Every accessory she wears is a restriction.” Taehyung remembers how you explained that the king hated your voice. His brow dipped. His father hated your voice because you had magic? No, that can’t be it. The king must be frightened of your voice- the voice that should be free to recite spells because it was your birthright.
“And that woman’s mask?” Taehyung asked. “What of that?”
“It is a final resort to keep her silent. She cannot use or speak of magic so long as she wears it. That is the royal order. She is not even able to remove it herself, only royal blood may do so.” Taehyung’s brow ticked back up. Only the Royal bloodline can remove it, huh? He bit back a snide smirk.
“Interesting,” he mumbled. The attendant was pleased to finally drop the topic altogether.
The prince continued to partially listen to his ‘catch up’ lessons on palace do’s and don'ts; however, in the grand scheme of things he was always wondering when or if he’d get the chance to run into you again somewhere. He felt guilty for being the son of the man who is keeping you from reaching your true potential as a sorceress. He was the only son of Lisha’s king and you were his caged animal.
The magic users he had spoken to before in his past had always told him the same thing when he asked how magic felt. It felt like the ocean breeze at dawn and that breeze turned into a cold, harsh storm when the magic was gone. Without magic they felt suffocated. The torment of magic repression was enough to bring some to the brink of insanity. However, he wondered how you felt about it inside. Restricted for so long, were you in pain?
Did you even know what magic felt like? Could you remember from your childhood before it was pushed down into the pit of your stomach and smothered?
The moment he had the opportunity to slip away from his forced shadow, he promptly took it with haste. Ducking out and rushing off, he was able to camp out in an alcove before the coast was clear for him to wander again. He walked with a sense of near urgency as he hoped to run into you as he’s done before. Or perhaps meet his father in the halls, that would suffice as well.
Heading down to the royal halls where the royal families rest in their private rooms, Taehyung quickly slipped into the room that used to belong to his mother and former Queen of Lisha.
Just the air in the room and how she had decorated it with vases and painting in the past brought the weight on Taehyung’s chest off. The room had been untouched just as he had wished- a sort of tomb of remembrance in her honor. She had not lived past 40 before illness and improper- obviously botched- treatment took hold of her. Leaving her son behind, he still missed her every morning when he woke to the sun.
He opened the permanently unlocked wardrobe and wooden trunk in the room. Revealing dresses, corsets, hair pieces, accessories, jewels and nightwear with the occasional pair of trousers- however improper for a lady they were. The trunk had shoes that he could vaguely remember dancing on with his mother leading him when he was smaller.
He trifled around before he pulled a pair of open top, black shoes from the trunk that could easily be worn without crafting the ankle- or anything around it. For himself he grabbed a ruby earring that hung from his lobe as soon as he placed it on himself. It bounced off his jawline with each turn of his head. This was his mother’s favorite color- ruby red. He smiled into the mirror that hung on the wardrobe door and hoped his mother would be proud of the man he grew up to be.
Shutting everything back up, he grabbed the flats and left the room. He rushed around and asked any servant or guard he could find if they knew of your whereabouts. He was in the midst of asking yet another when his attention was grabbed from behind.
“Highness, are you searching for Y/n?” He turned at the mention of your name. Not one servant he had spoken to had addressed you by name but this woman who approached him did without wavering. Young and with kind eyes. “Unfortunately, she’s wrapped up in chores until this evening. Her curfew is at sundown, so she won’t have any time for much extra activity.” She explained to him. “However, if you need to pass a message to her, I’d be happy to deliver. She and I share a room in the servants' wing, so it’d be no trouble in the slightest.”
Taehyung’s eyes lit up. At least you weren’t completely isolated from the rest of the castle. You seemed to have a kind enough roommate- at least at surface level. It was always possible this woman with the kind eyes was lying to look good in front of him- the prince who obviously had no ill will towards you.
“Would you? If I find out you haven’t, I’ll be very upset with you.” He lightly teased, only half meaning it the underlined threat of ‘don’t do what I ask and a royal fit is in your future’. She simply nodded. Taehyung lifted the flats into view “I’m tired of seeing her run around shoe-less because the castle won’t provide her proper shoes that don’t encase the ankle. These should help.”
Something in the woman’s eyes shined. Like someone being kind towards you was something so asinine and rare. She gratefully took the shoes from Taehyung’s grasp as she smiled down at them so purely it almost seemed she would weep. She nodded to herself before she looked back to the prince, glee written on her features.
“May I tell her the prince gifted these? Or shall I be anonymous with it?” Her voice perked, almost seemingly excited to deliver your new ‘royal’ shoes.
Taehyung smiled. “Please do tell her it was me. I’d like the credit for the safety of her feet,” he chided. She nodded and before she could run off to put them in their shared room, Taehyung stopped her. “Oh, what was your name? I never caught it.”
She smiled at the prince. “I am Akina, Highness.” Taehyung nodded to her. He wanted to learn as many names and faces as possible of his servants of the castle. Unlike his father, he wanted to appreciate his staff for their work. She scampered off as Taehyung turned and went back to wandering the halls. That is until he got caught from his out of breath, frantic aide that chewed him out for simply running off.
Taehyung was in for an earful he had a feeling he couldn’t sneak away from.
Xxx
When you entered your shared room with Akina you slumped against your door with a silent huff. Ever sense Taehyung had run into you and lain into your supervisor, she had gotten even harsher on you. Your feet were sore and your legs hurt from all the dowel swats you received if you were to even step wrong walking down the hall. Still, you just took a breath and calmed down, holding your sour disposition about your treatment. At least you weren’t executed- so you could deal with the harshness.
“Madam Hana was too strict today, wasn’t she?” You looked up and saw the small figure of Akina sat in her bed. You nodded before you walked to her, plopping on her bed beside her. You pulled out your notepad and ever shortening pencil as you wrote in the dimly lit room.
‘My legs hurt from all her whacking,’ your paper whined for you.
“Well, maybe I can cheer you up. Or, maybe our charming prince can.” You looked at Akina, your brow shooting up. She hopped off her bed before going to the small shared wardrobe in the room that held both your and her items. She grabbed something from the bottom before whirling around and coming back only to plop something into your lap. Knocking your notepad and pencil away from you. “These are from Prince Taehyung, for you.”
You were speechless- not that you could speak anyways. Sat in your lap was the cleanest, more lovely pair of black flats you had ever seen. Enclosed around the toes and open to the top of your foot with just enough room to hook over your heel and not an inch higher. They’d be so convenient to wear. You ran your finger over their edges before you were reaching for your notepad again and scribbling furiously. You shoved the paper into Akina’s hands.
‘Are you sure they’re for me?’
“He strictly instructed me that I give them to you with the message that he wants you to wear them because he doesn’t want you to hurt your feet anymore,” your roommate explained. You just stared at them star struck. The prince really wanted you to have these shoes? Where did he even get them? Regardless of if it was really him who gifted you these shoes or not, you just nodded in acceptance.
The idea of not padding around barefoot anymore was blissful to just think about. You grew excited to wear them in the morning when another day of grilling work and dowel whacks began. Akina just smiled as she set your notepad aside, watching you kick your feet with your under eyes pushing up in a smile she couldn’t see.
“You are just too darned cute,” the older one insisted. “If I were 10 years older, I’d adopt you in a heartbeat!” She gushed before she sat on the bed beside you and grabbed the shoes. “Let’s try them on!”
Xxx
Taehyung woke up early that next morning, taking to the halls as they were quiet and empty in his silk, royal pjs once again. Peach colored button up shirt that matched the same peach silk trousers that hung off his hips. Slippers of tan on his feet and a robe of gradient corals to fight off the morning chill. He hadn’t bothered in fixing himself to be presentable in the halls, simply because it was far too early to care about physical appearances.
He left his room that morning and made a dash for the gardens. He had hopped to run into you there again, but he wasn’t very hopeful. The only reason he saw you last time was because you were gathering flowers for him- the same flowers he kept in his window sill and watered. But, even if you were not in the gardens, maybe you would be somewhere else?
He stopped mid stride in the hall when he remembered that Akina had told him that you had strict surveillance and curfew. You most definitely wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until fetched. He groaned to himself as he then spun on his heels and backtracked towards the servant’s halls.
Thankfully, he knew where your room was- he did drop you off once after all.
He never realized how many servants were under the king’s employment until he was walking down halls of the servant’s wing. It seemed they were endless before he finally turned down the hall he knew was yours. He nearly jogged when he caught sight of the door he remembered dropping you off at before.
He came to a stop in front of it before he was knocking lightly. He turned and looked out the window behind him- the sun was almost ready to appear for the day. Although it was not yet upon the horizon, the sky had already begun to change colors. His attention fell back to the door when the door handle jostled and then twisted.
The door was cracked open and he was greeted with Akina standing in the open crack. She seemed shocked to see Taehyung in front of her room- of course that was a valid expression. He wasn’t even properly dressed after all. He smiled down to her as he tried to peer inside of the room- but it was too dark to see properly. He looked back to Akina ruffling his messy, blond hair.
“Is Y/n awake yet?” He asked her. Akina twisted her body around and watched as you remained sleeping in your bed. Curled into your blankets and softly snoring. She turned back to her prince.
“She isn’t. Shall I wake her up?” Taehyung shook his head.
“May I come in? I know it’s not proper for a male to enter a female’s room, but could I?” Akina’s face twisted in a few moments of shock before she was stepping back, taking the door with her as it opened further. Apparently, she didn’t mind. Taehyung thanked her as he stepped in, Akina shutting the door behind him.
He stood in the room as he looked around. It was dim, the lantern on the desk in the middle of the room unlit as the morning sky only barely gave the room light. Though it was bright enough to navigate, Akina still rushed to strike a match and light the lantern for better view. She didn’t want the crown prince falling over something and getting hurt in her room.
The small, two bedded room was far different than his own grand room. He felt almost guilty at the difference between staff and royal standards. However, it was something not even he could change- it was part of how the world has been. Perhaps though, one day he could at least improve servants’ quarters.
He shook his head, his thoughts wandering before he turned to Akina. Asking for silent permission to come closer to you. She nodded as he tiptoed to your bedside and knelt beside it. He smiled as you slept.
You slept curled up in blankets, tucked into your chin and curled up like you were cold. Your head had completely slipped off your pillow as you occasionally squirmed. He started poking at your face; your cheeks and nose and tracing your forehead in dumb patterns. He even poked at your mask that he was annoyed you still had to wear even while sleeping. He watched your face pout as he curled his lips to keep himself from laughing.
“Y/n,” he called. He kept prodding at your face until your eyes started to twitch under your eyelids. “Y/n,” he cooed again. As Taehyung tried to wake you, Akina moved to her own bed as she sat down still a bit in shock that the prince was in her room and messing with you. Eventually, your eyes slowly opened, before blinking slowly. He smiled at you as your eyes moved to look at him. “Good morning,” he greeted.
He laughed as your eyes shot open now realizing who was in front of your bed. Tangled in your blankets you shot up and tried to get out of your fabric prison. Sitting up, your torso free of your blanket, but your legs still trapped in it’s folds, you looked past Taehyung to Akina. She was simply smiling at you, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders before you looked back at the prince.
You looked around to the desk and saw your notepad and pencil sat there, but too far for you to reach. You jumped when Taehyung stood from his knelt position beside you and started to pull at your blanket. You moved as he tugged and before long he was pulling the blanket off you completely.
Taehyung looked at the notepad on the desk before he was grabbing it and placing it in your lap before he was sitting himself down beside you on your mattress. He decided to keep his opinion on your white nightgown to himself- you looked adorable in it. He giggled as you started to scribble down words quickly before shoving it into his lap.
‘What are you doing here, Your Highness?’
“I didn’t get to see you all day, so I came to see you.” He gently set your notepad back in your lap before he was talking again. “I know you're under some strict scheduling, but do you want to go walk with me? I have something I want to talk to you about.” Your eyes widened before you looked down at your lap and lightly kicked your feet against your bed frame. Your being filled with nervousness as Akina was soon standing up.
She moved to the trunk at the end of your bed before she reached into the wardrobe and grabbed a bag to hang your notepad and pencil in. She was now kneeling in front of you, grabbing your feet around your anklets before she was slipping your new, black flats onto your feet.
Taehyung smiled as Akina helped you, glad that she not only gave you the shoes like he asked, but they fit so well on you. She then grabbed your notepad from your lap and placed it into the small bag before helping you to your feet.
“If Madam Hana comes by, I’ll try and stall for you. Go enjoy the morning before work, okay?” She held your hands before she slung the bag over your shoulder to let it rest on your hip. Taehyung was soon standing behind you and patting your back between your shoulder blades. He smiled down at you, something that helped ease your nerves.
Between the both of them, you were soon out in the halls with your nightgown on and Taehyung beside you in his pajamas as Akina shut the door behind you both. You shivered from the cool air in the halls compared to your small, warm room. Taehyung was quick to pull the silk robe from his shoulders and place it over you.
“Wear this,” he urged as you wanted to decline as it was a royal’s robe. He just persisted before he pulled your arms through the sleeves and straightened it to sit on your shoulders. Your shoulder didn’t quite fill it out like his did, but that was alright. You had to admit, it was a lot warmer than nothing at all. “Let’s go talk,” he soothed as he was soon leading you off to somewhere.
Xxx
Taehyung had taken you to a small, secluded part of the royal gardens where you’re not usually allowed. Only royals are allowed beyond a certain point and the select few of servants who care for the garden. Shrubs and bushes of healthy, green color. Rows of flowers lining the cobblestone paths and marble busts of past royal rulers. A small fountain at the center off all the intermingled paths of stone.
He watched you look around and fidget with your fingers. You were currently disobeying a number of rules at the moment. Leaving your room without permission, not being properly supervised, wearing the prince’s robe, entering a restricted garden where servants aren’t allowed. Your mind couldn’t keep up with everything that’s happened in such a short burst of time.
Taehyung pulled you along with him until he sat you down on a stone bench near the fountain before he sat next to you. He sat in silence for a moment as you continued to fidget. He was slouched back, looking up at the color changing sky as the windy blew in small wisps. He hoped his robe was enough to keep your warm.
“I ended up asking my attendant about you, you know?” He started. He could practically feel you stiffen next to him. “I learned a lot about you from him and learned why you do what you do. Though, I have a lot of questions to ask you about it personally.” He felt you moved beside him, taking out your notepad to write on it before you were tapping on his thigh.
‘Are you angry about it? What you learned?’
“No,” he shook his head. “Or maybe I am, but not with you.” He sighed as he brought his chin down to look at the fountain. “I heard that you were sold to my father when you were a child and that the first thing he did was slap you in restraints. That is what I am angry about.”
‘So, you know what my restraints are for?’ Your notepad asked him before he was looking down at your lap. Your fingers were trembling, but something told him it wasn’t because of the morning chill. You were scared. It was clear that you were isolated from your fellow servants because the knowledge of your magic wasn’t exactly a well kept, royal secret.
“Yes, I know you’re a sorceress, Y/n.” You ducked your head, tucking your chin into your chest in shame as you just wished to fade away and disappear with the wind. It wasn’t your fault you were born like this and it wasn’t your fault that everyone thought you were some kind of tumor to be removed from society.
Everything was taken from you since you were a child and it wasn’t your fault. You slowly wrote before handing him the notepad again.
‘I am sorry,’ you apologized. Taehyung’s slouched figure straightened before he was taking the notepad and setting it on the ground on top of the cobblestone and out of your reach. Your eyebrows shot up as you went to go and reach for it before Taehyung was off the bench and kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, stopping your attempts to retrieve your book back.
“Y/n, I don’t want you to apologize for something my family did to you.” His voice was stern as he forced you to look at him as he spoke on his knees in front of you. “It is my father and his awful rules against sorcery that put you right here, right now. It is in no way your fault, you were born with your magic- you can’t just get rid of it or outgrow it.” Your eyes didn’t move from his. You weren’t sure how, but he knew how you felt about it and he was putting to ease all your anxieties. “Listen to me, I want to do something. I have things I want to do that involve you- things I want to do to protect you.”
You furrowed your brows as he let go of your hands and reached up to your face. He traced around the edges of your mask. You reflexively reached up to hold it, keeping the straps behind your ears even if you knew it wouldn’t fall off. You couldn’t take it off, no one could but His Majesty to your knowledge. Taehyung smiled up to you.
“I have a request, and by the end of our conversation this morning, I’d like for you to answer me properly. Is that alright, Y/n?” You simply nodded to him. He placed his hands over your own that were held up by your ears. “I heard that both your gauntlets and anklets are suppressors, and that this mask is also one. When you told me that the king hates your voice, you were talking about your magic, yes?” You nodded again. “Alright, then you also know that you’re unable to take your mask off.”
You felt dumb just nodding to him. But it is all you could do. With him blocking your path to your notepad on the ground and his hands holding yours in place by your ears, you had no other choice but to nod or shake your head in response to his questions.
“Only royal blood can remove your mask,” his tone suddenly changed. It was short and quiet as opposed to his earlier stern monologue. “If that is true, then I can take this mask off of you.” Your eyes widened. “If that’s possible, I’m going to try. I’m going to pull this mask off and I want to hear your voice. I want to see your face, I want to know what you sound like and what you look like when you smile.”
You felt him let go of your hands as he moved his fingers behind your ears. You felt his fingertips feather around the shell of your ear before they hooked under your mask’s straps. Your breath halted.
“When I remove this, I want you to call for me,” he instructed you. You didn’t even nod to him that time. Just remained breathless and still. The sensation of him pulling your mask over your ears and away from your cheeks was odd. It felt like static as you could physically feel something coming back to you. Your throat felt warm and your cheeks tingled with feeling. Like something was being returned to you.
When your mask was pulled from your mouth and away from your face, the wind picked up. The morning chill being blown away as a warm, summer breeze fell in place to comfort your bare face. You ducked your head away from his eyes. Taehyung took your mask before he placed it behind him, joining it with the notepad on the cobblestone before he lifted his hands back to cup your cheeks.
Your cheeks were soft and warm. They pushed under the pressure of his hands as he lifted your chin to look at him. When your eyes met his again your face flushed and he could see the red hue that crept onto your skin under his hands. He smiled at you the moment the sun started to breach the horizon now.
“Memorizing,” he told you. “Now, call for me.” He watched your pink lips open and close, unsure on how to do it. What to do and then the anxieties set in again. You haven't used your voice in so long. What did it sound like now? Would it be weak and hoarse? No, surely not. Your throat was warm and smooth and you felt something magical in the absence of your mask. “It’s alright,” Taehyung soothed. “It’s just us here, just try.”
He watched you stick your tongue out to lick at your dry lips before you opened your mouth again. He felt your jaw move under his hands and your cheeks hollow out at your lips unsure movements. Your chest inflated as you took a breath in.
“Um,” the small noise that came out of your mouth made Taehyung jump as his fingertips pushed into your cheeks further. Trying to urge you to speak, he just nodded as you tried again. “Prince Taehyung?” You whispered in a small, adorable voice.
Taehyung’s jaw dropped before you gasped and pushed your palms against your mouth as if you had just committed a crime. In a sense, you did. It was a royal order that you not speak, but then again it was the prince who told you to speak in the first place after he took off your mask. You were confused and shocked at your own choice of actually speaking again.
“Y/n, would you consider being my lady-in-waiting?” Taehyung blurted out as your eyes bugged before he continued. “I know it’s not proper, and that only noblewomen are assigned court ladies, but I am without an assistant and I want it to be you.”
You had never heard of a prince asking for a woman servant to tend to him before. It was absolutely asinine. However, when you looked at Taehyung, he really meant it.
“Why?” Was your reply and he felt his hair stand on end at hearing your voice again. “The king would surely reject the idea.” It was so soft, like velvet to his ears.
“I will speak to him. He is my father and I will fight him on this. He has no choice if I threaten my throne after all- it works as a last resort.” Threatening his throne? As in threatening to not come to rule and dismissing his coronation one day in the future? That’s ridiculous! “Of course, I’d never really give up my place as crown prince, but it’s a good bargaining chip.”
“But, Madam Hana. She is my supervisor, if I-”
“If you serve under me, she will be unnecessary. I do not want to see her hit you anymore.”
“My prince, I don’t know.” It was no surprise that you were unsure about it. It was all so sudden, not to mention all the unknown variables about such a strong choice. “What answer do you want from me,” you whimpered as you fiddled with the fabric of your nightgown. Taehyung ran his thumb across your cheek as he pulled his lips back into a smile.
“Whatever answer you give me, I’ll accept it. Unlike my father, I am no bully,” he teased. You smiled at the prince calling the king something as lowly as a ‘bully’. His time abroad seemed to have fused this childish, refreshing nature into his persona. It made you feel warm and Taehyung felt like a spring shower.
“If I agree, would you be happy?”
“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.
“You are so sure of yourself,” you replied to his quickfire answer.
“I am sure of you.”
As you sat in the restricted garden of royalty, the prince of Lisha on his knees in front of you holding your cheeks in his silk pajamas with his hands that had removed your mask, you made a decision. Perhaps, it was a foolish one in the making. It would surely anger the king and could create tension among your fellow servants. It would undoubtedly cause Madam Hana to go into a fit. But when you thought of Akina and her support as well as your Prince Taehyung who knelt before you, all that didn't seem to matter any more.
It felt like you were regaining a piece of freedom you were stripped of when you were young.
“I would,” you told him. “I would consider it, if you would allow me,” you finalized. If being his lady-in-waiting and throwing out the standard status quo was what it was going to take to please your prince, then you’d just have to accept it and follow him. He was the first royal to even show you a spec of kindness like his late mother did once very long ago.
18+ smut, P in V sex, cream pie, scratching, angst, fluff, mentions of decay and rot, death, danger, more confusing Multiversal shit, sorry.
***
Summary:
Holy shit, it's chapter two! Reader escapes with Rehydrated Khonshu and the boys. Smut in the chapter.
***
Chapter 2 - Leap Of Faith
**
Jake spent the night with you, with you curled against his frame. Nothing sexual happened. You had a mental breakdown, and he refused to go back to his own room. That ended up in him holding you and rubbing your back while you cried. He tried to whisper to you that everything would be alright, but you both knew it wasn't so. You ended up in his lap, clinging to him until you passed out on top of him.
Sometime near the crack of dawn, he stirred under you, and you woke up to the sounds of a soft voice mumbling about how warm and comfortable you were. At first you didn't think anything of it, that is until you heard a surprised gasp, and the man jerked about while trying to get out from under you. Your natural response was to tug on him, dragging him closer.
"What the bloody hell..?" Steven's voice mumbled softly, both of his hands shot up and out stretched away from you, like he had been caught doing something terrible.
"Steven..?" You yawned his name, and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and his bare chest, forgetting that Steven probably had no idea how he had gotten into your bed. You knew Jake must have carried you there and gone to sleep with you afterwards.
Apparently that was the wrong thing to do, because now Steven was overly flustered, and from your position of being directly on top of him, you could feel it. He was only in his sweatpants and he was baffled as to how he got there in the first place.
"What am I doing here, love? How did I get here?" Steven asked while he gently placed his hands on your back.
"I had a meltdown last night." Was all that you could say. You kept your face hidden against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken.
"Oh… Are you alright?" He gently asked, and you nodded and sighed. You bet anything he wanted you to let him go, so you tried to move, but surprisingly, he wouldn't let you get up. Steven swallowed thickly, followed by clearing his throat.
"Did… Did we do anything last night? Did Marc get drunk again?" He asked with an extreme amount of caution. He figured Marc had finally had enough of dancing around you, pretending that he didn't like you.
"No." You replied shyly. Steven blinked and thought about it for a second. He would have asked Marc, but his alter was still deeply asleep in the headspace.
"Then why am I shirtless?"
"Uh, because I was outside, smoking weed to try and calm my nerves. It did not work, and I sent myself into a panic attack. You came outside like this, no shoes on, and saw me, then just didn't go back to your room." You meekly replied.
"Fuck. Must have been Marc. I checked out two days ago after a fight with him. But why does my mouth feel like I smoked a whole pack of cigarettes?" He mumbled as he smacked his lips while trying to get rid of the nasty taste in his mouth.
"You had a fight?" You sidestepped his question. Jake had smoked a whole pack of cigarettes last night, minus the three you took from him.
"Erm… Yeah… Well, I suppose I should tell you, but I feel like it might make things worse for you…" Steven murmured and took a deep breath.
"I'm sure nothing you have to say can possibly be worse than why I was losing my shit. I don't mean that rudely, by the way." You said with a huff. Steven hummed, his hands twitching where they sat on your back
"Right. I can't assume what I have to say will bother you or not, but I really do think you ought to know…" Steven carried on, his hands slowly running up and down your sides.
"If it's about the bird man that's constantly watching you, I know. He's a bit of an asshole, but he's alright." You giggled, knowing if he was there, he would have made a comment about calling him an asshole.
"You know about him?" Steven asked, his voice sounding even more surprised.
"Yes. I can see him. He looks much nicer recently. Less… Dead."
"Wow. Well, uh, okay. Um… Well that is only a smidgen of what I wanted to tell you-"
"And the world is ending." You cut him off bluntly, and Steven huffed.
"Ah. Well. Suppose the pigeon already told you, I guess." He chuckled a bit as you shifted on top of him to look into his eyes. He grunted at how you sat on his lap.
"Yeah, well…" You shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
"Oh… And one more thing." Steven licked his lips, then closed his eyes. He seemed to be trying to prepare his next words carefully.
"Yeah?"
"Marc and I are pretty sure there's another guy in our body."
"Oh?" You quirked a brow, trying your best to look neutral.
"Yeah. Found his phone."
Oh shit. Did they open it? Had they read all the texts between you and Jake? Did they see all the photos he had taken of you and him when you smoked weed or hung out? Jake would have had a lock code, right?
"Yeah. It was locked, but the photo on the lock screen… It was of you in that cab out front…"
"Oh." You replied softly, and then a heavy silence permeated through the room.
"You knew. You knew and didn't say anything." His voice was softer, more gentle than upset, like he should have been.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"No, no. It's alright. We've known about him for a while. Marc was very adamant he didn't get drunk when you said he did. There's other signs, but we chose to ignore them." He paused and started to draw circles on your back. He seemed quite comfortable to be there after hearing that you knew about the third alter.
"Plus, I've been finding money missing from our banks, and neither of us can account for it. Not that it matters any more. We blacked out so much the last year, and we figured it was that guy that was coming out more. The only common denominator, is you. Hell, Khonshu demanded we come out here, and then we lose a lot of time, then you show up. Plus, you had our jacket in your cab…" Steven trailed off as he spoke about Jake. Thank God they had an idea, so this wasn't as bad as it could have been.
"Also, speaking of which, that cab is so familiar. It's the exact same one that used to be parked outside of our house all the time. Back in England. So, unless you used to live there, which you have already stated that you never have… Well… I assume that's his cab. Even had the same pair of gloves, pack of smokes, and hat inside the front seat. Oh, and that Chiquita Banana hula figure on the dash." He finished his list of reasons as to how they knew about the third alter, and you relaxed even more. You gave him a shrug, and an apologetic look.
"Ya got me. Yeah. It's not my cab."
"What's his name?"
"Jake. Jake Lockley."
And then you explained to Steven who his alter was, what his job was, and that Jake also talked to Khonshu. You told Steven that Jake begged Khonshu not to tell him or Marc about him, and because of that, Jake had also asked you not to, unless they found out on their own. Steven sighed, but he understood.
"Marc is going to be pissed at the pigeon. He will be annoyed with you, but he won't be mad. Like, really. It explains a lot."
And so Marc had come out some time later. He wasn't pleased that you didn't tell him, but he wasn't mad at you either. He was actually more concerned about the world ending. He had to go out and see his father, wishing to see him one last time, before this universe was gone.
While he was gone for only a day, he came back a changed man. He seemed particularly off, and he was lost in his reflection a lot more. It only took him another two days to recover, but whatever had him in a rut, it also did the same to Steven and Jake. They informed you that their God couldn't do anything more to save this world.
Even Khonshu was different, which was a surprise, since he had just recently changed as well. He seemed a lot nicer than before, and he was less snappy with almost no snide commentaries. You figured it was because you didn't have much time left here, and that they were trying to be nice to you, but you didn't know how wrong you would be.
***
Finally the day came when Khonshu would be jumping ship and taking his Avatar with him. You fully prepared yourself to be let down, for him to say he couldn't bring you with them. You spent a whole night in Jake's arms, telling him all about your dreams of the other versions of himself. He listened quietly, and in the morning, he was gone. His jacket was still there, but maybe he left it behind to comfort you until your death.
You sighed, believing that he must have left with Khonshu already, as nothing else of theirs was there. Marc and Steven's jacket was gone, as were Jake's gloves and hat. Even their duffle bag was gone. You paced the hotel, waiting around for two hours, before finally giving up to go to the Sanctum with Jake's jacket wrapped around your cold feeling frame.
The skies were blue, with splotches of dark inky voids. People were trying to hide in buildings, running from the tears in reality if they could. If they couldn't, they quickly perished in agony once touched by the void, leaving a half rotting corpse in its wake. You seemed to be safe from the black spots, with them moving away from you as you went. You didn't really question why that was happening, and instead, were slightly relieved.
Once at the Sanctum, you went through the building, grabbing whatever things you thought could be useful to keep yourself alive for longer. Some gold and silver pieces, because why not? Perhaps you could use them as magically infused projectiles, and maybe, if you found a way to leave this place, the gold could be helpful to start a new life. You found a few scrolls, and tucked them away into the jacket that Jake had left you. As you rifled through a few books, tossing any that didn't help to the floor, you heard rustling behind you.
You froze, and slowly turned just in time to see a flash of red duck behind a bookshelf. You squinted into the reflection of a mirror that showed a singed red cloak, hunched over and shaking like a person. You knew what it was, and you knew it was probably scared. Too scared to recognize you.
"Oh, hello there… You can come out. I won't hurt you." You cooed to the object as it poked its collar around the corner, as if it were looking at you. You could see holes burned into its fabric, frayed edges, and rips along the seams. The way it moved was like a wounded animal.
"Oh, you used to belong to the good Dr. Strange, didn't you? I promise I won't hurt you. Do you remember me?" You said as you crouched low to the ground with your hand out. The cloak slowly made its way towards you like a scared cat, and eventually it was close enough to touch, but you remained still.
"Are you hurt? I can heal you, if you like?" You murmured softly, the cape moving under your hand exactly like a cat starved for attention. You smiled and silently flicked your fingers, swirling them about as you cast a spell to fix the damage on it. The moment it was healed, the cloak trotted around like a horse, then wrapped itself around your neck to rest on your shoulders, giving you a warm hug with its form. You smiled and caressed it, whispering that everything would be okay for now.
The cloak wrapped a corner of itself around your wrist, and slowly slipped the ring it had stolen from its old master onto your fingers. Now you had two Sling rings, but what good would that do? This new one was different, more intricate and detailed.
"Sorry to tell you, but the world is ending. Your mad doctor is the cause of it, but you probably already knew that…" You sighed as you picked up an hourglass and stared at it.
"I've heard about this. It would be useful, if the world wasn't ending…" You sighed, going to put it back down.
The cape flew off your shoulders and darted out of the room. It came back with a bag, and nudged it into your hands along with a book that it opened to a certain page. The page showed the exact bag you had, claiming it was an endless capacity bag that created an extra-dimensional space inside to hold a lot of things. You decided it might be useful, and you waved your hand over the way too long name, replacing it with 'Bag of Holding' instead. You tossed all manner of things into it with the help of the cloak. The cloak had shoved all sorts of books into it, while you wrapped a gold cloth around the lantern and put it inside.
Again the cloak vanished off into another room, then quickly came back, tugging on your wrist to follow it. You did, and the smells of the place began to get much worse. It started to smell like rotting flesh, and when you walked into a large room, there on the floor, was the decaying body of Wong. You gasped, covering your nose and mouth with one hand as you approached his lifeless body. Half of it was being slowly disintegrated by the black void at the legs, maggots flying away like flies into the darkness.
The cloak snatched something shiny and gold from Wong's stiff hands, and it brought the thing to you, before it went back to your shoulders. It appeared to be some sort of wand, and you thought it was ungodly tacky and hideous, but you tossed it into the bag, because the cloak made it seem like it was important. You searched and secured the entire place, not finding much else that was noteworthy. It appeared like the place had been ransacked a few times. You decided to make your way out, when the ground started to shake. You looked up, seeing the ceiling was crumbling above you.
"Fuck." Was all you could manage, before you were rushed out of the way of some falling concrete and pipes, and out a broken window. That left you hovering outside of the Sanctum as it crumbled into dust and was slowly overcome with more inky black ichor spots.
"Thanks, buddy. You're pretty cool for saving my life. I mean, you were pretty cool before, so like, you're now extra super duper cool. Oh god, I sounded so lame just now." You huffed and patted the cloak. The sentient thing seemed quite happy with the compliment, as it hugged you tightly, before it lowered you to the ground.
"Ah, there you are, little sorceress. We thought we had lost you." A deep silky voice hit your ears. The cloak whipped you around to face the source of the voice, and you nearly cried when you saw it was Khonshu.
"I thought you guys left already!"
"No. I wouldn't leave you behind after you gave me my most precious possession back, not when I have the power to carry you over with my Avatar. The old me would have left in a heartbeat, but my knights would be most displeased if I left you behind." Khonshu murmured as you went up to him, hugging his much larger body. He patted your back, noticing the new addition to your wardrobe.
"Is this the Cloak of Levitation?" He asked, his voice sounding quite impressed.
"Yeah. It was hiding in the Sanctum. Poor thing was hurt, but I healed it." You explained. Khoshu hummed in approval.
"But why is it white and gold? Isn't it supposed to be red and gold?" He asked as he ran one of his fingers down the edge of the cloak.
"It what?" You held up a bit of the cloak and stared at it. It had indeed changed colors. The deep red fabric was now an iridescent white, and the gold border had changed designs. You stared at the glimmering symbols that resembled ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics with the phases of the moon along the borders. The inside of the cloak looked like the night sky and you smiled as you stroked the cape.
"Thank you. I love what you've done with your hair." You giggled and the cloak vibrated like it was laughing. Even the old bird chuckled at the joke, before clearing his throat.
"Come. We must go now. My knights are waiting for you."
Khonshu flew with you through the skies back to the shitty hotel where you had been staying. The journey was amazing, only something you had done in your dreams.
Half of the hotel was in tatters, and Jake was pacing back and forth in his suit, muttering words of worry in Spanish as he power smoked a cigarette. The moment he laid eyes on you, he threw his smoke away and started running towards you. Your feet barely touched the ground when Jake grabbed you in a tight hug.
"Fuck, querida. I was so worried about you. I thought that you were dead. I left to grab some food and water for the jump, and when I came back, you were gone." Jake frantically said as he dipped his face into your neck and inhaled. The cape smacked him and he blinked, staring at the thing like it had just burned him.
"Now, now. Be nice to Jake. It's his master that might be able to get us out of here…" You paused for a moment, then looked up at Khonshu.
"Can this cloak come with us?"
"I don't see why not, as technically it's an object, and not a living thing, despite being sentient."
"Aw, do you hear that, boy? You can come with us!" You cheered and the cloak seemed quite thrilled as it forcibly made you hug Khonshu.
"Okay. Enough." Khonshu tried to push you back lightly, trying very hard not to anger his Avatar.
"We must go now, while the dark sorcerer is sleeping. Let him continue his destructive path. He'll only destroy himself in the process, and we need to leave, now, before he decides that he requires more power and comes after us." Khonshu calmly explained as he twirled his staff a few times in both directions.
He muttered a few things in a different and very old dialect, then a portal was torn into another universe. The edges of the portal were covered in sparks and it sizzled loudly as they spun around like the rings around a planet.
"Hurry, get through. It's night time there, and a full moon." Khonshu quickly said as he motioned for you both to go through. You grabbed Jake's hand tightly, and he pulled you to his chest as he went through the portal, with Khonshu slipping in behind you. Just as you did, the ground where you once were began fading away into nothingness. The God promptly shut the portal, and he turned to survey his surroundings.
"Good. We best get out of this city. This world's Doctor Strange has probably sensed a time and space dilation, and the farther we are from the Sanctum, the better." Khonshu muttered with a slight fatigue to his voice. He was clutching his staff like he was struggling to stand.
"Okay. I'll see if my ring works. I don't think it would, since the world it came from is gone…"
"Well, love, that cloak is still there, and it still moves by itself." Suddenly it was Steven, and just hearing his voice made you feel a lot better. You wondered if your own magic worked, but you'd have to see after getting away from here.
"Well, Steven, it might not work. My Wong gave me a grade E ring, because they were low at the time. Lower quality and ranking items are less likely to work when passing through to a new universe. My Cloak of Levitation is a top tier magical item, or so I was told." You explained, and Steven tapped his chin.
"That seems reasonable. Our Khonshu is drained, though. He's just tired and exhausted after stepping out with two mortals from a dying universe. Pretty sure my suit is okay." Steven said, and he summoned his suit to check. He was in luck, and his suit flicked over his body, albeit a bit slower than normal.
"Yes… Unfortunately that's true, but at least it is a full moon here. Your magic should work, but it'll be weak until you start pulling power from this world." Khonshu muttered as he ran a hand over his eyes, rubbing the tired feeling muscles and skin there that he wasn't used to having.
***
Not too far away from where you had come through to this new universe, this world's Doctor Stephen Strange was asleep in his bed at the Sanctum. He was in a deep sleep, having an intense dream, one that was disturbing and very real. Too real to just be the brain shuffling and putting away memories.
He was having another dream about himself, one where it was him, but not him. Another life, he deduced. This man had it worse off than himself. Instead of his hands being injured, his beloved Christine had taken their place. Every night, more dreams of this man's journey occurred, all the way up until now. Now the man was overtaken with a savage drive to bring his lost love back from the dead, the rest of the whole universe be damned.
His other self was thin and gaunt. He had pale and slightly translucent skin, revealing the veins and arteries underneath. He had heavy set bags under his dark black eyes, and his hair was greasy from the strain of many weeks of hard work. His whole body was taking a beating, because of weeks of exceptional magic use. The man that resembled him, was wearing slightly different robes, and his cloak was more sinister looking. He had heard about how the Cloak of Levitation could change in appearance to suit its wielder. His own had slightly changed over the years to match his style and increase of power and status. Maybe that one was tainted with the evil and dark magic his double was exuding.
Nothing interesting was really happening. This other Strange was now pulling another couple of demons from the circle in the floor, because his last few attempts at going back in time had failed. Then, suddenly, without warning, the other one had turned to look away, right into a mirror that had the face of a woman in it. He threatened the woman, and she looked terrified as she vanished from it.
Then just as quickly as the dream started, Stephen was launched into another one.
He saw the woman again, but he felt like he was stuck to the ceiling, watching as she woke up, frantically looking around while heavily breathing. She seemed distraught that no one else was there, and then she flew from bed to look around the small room. Stephen deduced it was a shitty little hotel room, based solely on the way the interior appeared.
The woman got dressed, but she did it nearly the same way that he would, using magic to materialize the clothing onto the body. She grabbed a small bag and slung it over her body then grabbed a man's jacket off the chair. She stared at it for a long while, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged the garment and sniffled. Stephen felt the intense wave of emotion as it rippled through him, causing him to feel exactly what she felt Soon after, she was throwing the coat on and going outside, a joint in her mouth as she snapped her fingers to light it.
Then the scene got even more morbid.
The skies were a mixture of blue and black. The black steaks looked like a massive being had sliced the sky with black, poison-dipped claws. Buildings were falling apart, there were not many people in sight, and there were black holes and dark voids everywhere. In the corner of this vision, dead bodies littered the streets in advanced stages of decay, all with the same inky, black ichor eating away the corpses.
Stephen was almost sick, because he could smell everything.
The woman paced back and forth for a while, power smoking both weed and the pack of cigarettes she found in the inner pocket of the jacket. Stephen saw a glinting of brass on her hand, and he gasped when he saw a Sling ring, albeit a very old and obviously low ranking one at that.
She paced and paced, until finally she gave up and left the hotel. He could tell she was making her way to the Sanctum by the area she was in. Once she made it to the Sanctum, it was already damaged, some of the walls crumbling, windows broken, and the doors destroyed. The large window in the front of the building was shattered, and by all rights, the place appeared to be a death trap.
He watched her investigate the place, then run into a cloak that looked nearly identical to his own. It even moved and had the same mannerisms as it cautiously approached her. He heard her whisper, reassuring the cloak she wouldn't harm it…
Then she healed it.
Her magic was white, and not the customary fiery orange that his and his fellow sorcerers had. That was odd, but it told him she wasn't from his dimension at all, and that this place was clearly a dying universe that his other self was destroying. Stephen felt even more sick to know there was a version of himself that was mad with grief. So mad, he had discarded any care for the world around him, abandoning all regard for it all together.
Then he witnessed the cloak hand her a bag that he himself owned in this world, the Bag of Infinite Capacity, and a book that described it. Ah, forever helpful that thing was, no matter what universe it came from…
Then the scene switched to the dead body of Wong, with her horrified expression, the cloak handing her the Wand of Watoomb from Wong's cold dead hands. Again Stephen felt himself fill with grief and sorrow at seeing his best friend's dead body and his lifeless and glassy eyed expression.
He managed to compose himself enough to see her make a disgusted face at the design of the wand, and Stephen couldn't help but laugh. It was an ugly old thing, and it was large, heavy, and awkward. She picked up various books and things that might be useful to her, and that's when Stephen realized she was preparing herself to either die, or leave that dimension.
He watched her look around more, not finding much more to help her, when the roof caved in. The cloak had averted the danger by whisking her away and out of the building, only to run into a large magical being. He gasped, seeing that it was the Egyptian God of the moon, watching as the woman threw herself into his arms. The moment she did, her cloak began to lighten up completely, until the fabric was a shimmery white and gold.
The scene changed yet again, to her and the God flying through the sky, avoiding the tears in reality that were actually moving out of their way as they touched down back at her hotel. There a man was, dressed in dark clothing, black everything, except his dress shirt and the mask on his face. When he saw her, the mask melted away, and he began running towards her, yelling in both Spanish and English as he caught and hugged her tightly. The cloak smacked him, and again Stephen snorted as the woman scolded the garment and told it that these two beings would be helping them escape.
And then they did. He watched the grand display of the Egyptian God tearing open a portal similar to what a Sling ring would, and they stepped through. Only to come out in darkness, near a barely lit little park that Stephen knew was just around the corner from his current location.
That's when he felt it, a massive power surge from the magic around him, and he woke up. He gasped, shooting up and out of bed as he ran to the window to check.
Sure enough, he could see a ridiculously tall and lanky bird-headed God, and two people beside him. Now the man was dressed in an all white suit, and the hat was just straight up gone. He used his magic to listen in, to see if they were talking. The man that was with her was talking, sounding all too British. They were discussing him, Stephen Strange, and how they needed to flee to avoid being detected by him.
Well too fucking late, he had seen them, and he knew about them.
***
You tried your ring, and it fizzled and crackled, barely making a cough of a portal big enough for a fly. You sighed in defeat, when the cloak snaked down your arm to the ring it had stolen from his Doctor Strange. It tugged gently on your hand, and you allowed it to move you, circling your hands the way that was required to summon a portal. You caught on and took over, forming a perfect portal as reward for your efforts. You ducked inside, dragging Steven in with you, with Khonshu following closely behind.
When you got through, it happened to be the same hotel you had been at before. You frowned when you saw the parking lot was full out front. This was not a good place, and you again ripped another portal open, stepping inside to come out at the other end of the city. You promptly checked into a different hotel, then locked yourselves inside for the night.
Khonshu was weak enough that he actually required a bed to sleep on. You ushered him into the bedroom and elongated the bed for his much larger frame, before leaving him there to rest. When you came out, Steven was taking his coat off and hanging it up. He moved around the room, finding the kettle in the cupboard, and bringing it out to make tea. You patted the cloak, and it glided off of you to go sit in one of the chairs at the tiny table. Jake's jacket joined Steven's and you used your magic to change into shorts and one of Marc's shirts.
"Oh. Marc says he's been looking for that shirt. We thought it was eaten up by the voids." Steven chuckled as he waited for the water to boil. You smiled sheepishly, taking a seat at the table.
Eventually you had some tea, and you produced the last of your weed that you had left from the old universe, rolling it with your magic as you sipped the hot brew. Once you had about six joints rolled, you moved to the couch with Steven. He pulled the bed out of it and set the blankets up for the both of you to relax on. After, he flipped the television on, while you smoked, with Steven surprising you and taking a few hits. Eventually you passed out in his arms, with him following quickly behind.
***
Stephen Strange was now dressed and awake. He went straight to work on going to the library and pulling books from the shelves on the items she had acquired in his dream. After, he grabbed books on dreams and came across information on 'dream walking'. It explained that usually the practice was a type of dark magic, but some people had the innate ability to do it without requiring magic spells. Unfortunately the book contained very little on how to do it on command, and it merely referred to another book, the name of which wasn't mentioned.
The face he saw in his dreams was familiar, like he had seen it before while dreaming of his other, more evil self, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. She looked so similar to the woman that just arrived with a God and his Avatar. He quickly went to the artifact room, to the Cauldron of the Cosmos, and he peered inside while concentrating on the face of the woman.
It showed exactly where she was, proving that Stephen was correct in his assumption. That woman from his dreams was indeed the one that just got here. She was now in some hotel in the upper part of town, far away from the Sanctum. He debated on going to the hotel, but he thought twice about it, knowing that if she really did just flee from a dying reality, one that an alternate version of him had destroyed after threatening her, she probably wouldn't exactly wish to see his face.
But the dreams he had been having for the past few weeks, told him she was friends with Wong. So he immediately went to wake the poor man up to explain everything, and boy was Wong disturbed. He did eventually agree to go see her, but only after she had stopped running and settled down for a bit.
***
The next morning you awoke to a warm body beside you. A heavy arm was curled around your stomach, a face nudged into your neck, hot breath tickling your skin. It felt so nice and comforting. You gently placed your hand over the one that sat on your stomach, fingers slowly drawing circles on the rough skin on the knuckles there. This closeness was something that you had yearned for your entire life, yet not a single person from your old life was alive, except this man sleeping next to you.
A loud humming began to come from him, sounding almost like a deep throaty purr. His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer as he inhaled your scent. His arm underneath you slowly moved, while at the same time, his hips bucked into yours ever so slightly.
You groaned, feeling his hand grab at your breast, pawing and kneading it gently as he mouthed at your shoulder. You let out a sharp sigh as you rolled your hips back, feeling the obvious hardness against your backside.
"Ah, mmm…" The sound escaped your lips like a sultry moan, and the hand at your breast squeezed a bit harder.
A gravely groan hit your ears as the other hand moved lower, lightly dragging heavily calloused fingers down your stomach. You whimpered lightly, feeling him buck against you again and you sucked in a breath.
"Hey, you awake?" You carefully asked to see if he was awake, or just moving on autopilot in his sleep. You also wanted to know which one was touching you like this, if they even meant to or not. The hands froze in their movements. The lips slowly peeled themselves from your skin and you heard a husky chuckle.
"Sì, mi vida…" Jake's voice murmured, and his hands went right back to what they were doing, as did his lips and hips. You groaned, feeling his hand move to creep under your shirt, fingers quickly finding one of your nipples. The second he grasped it between his thick fingers, your hips slammed back and you hissed.
"Mierda. Did I hurt you?" He asked as he stilled completely.
"No, it's okay. I liked it." You huffed out, and he let out a groan as he pressed himself against you nice and hard while going back at your nipple. His teeth dragged along your skin as his free hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, testing to see if you would stop him.
"Jake…" The way you said his name made him growl. His fingers were quick to dive down into your heat and the sound he made was borderline pornographic.
"Can I have you?" He rasped hotly into your ear, his fingers pushing into your already soaked hole. You shook as he ground the palm of his hand over the front of your seam and your clit.
"Y-yes…"
***
Somewhere in England, a man tossed and turned in his sleep. His olive skin was beaded with sweat, his ebony hair soaked and messy as his brain conjured up vivid dreams. The bed creaked with each restless movement, with the man groaning, his face scrunched up in an odd mixture of pain and pleasure.
It was that damned woman again. Flashes of her with a man that looked exactly like himself and an odd bird headed God that closely resembled his own master, but less dead looking. He felt like it was an out of body experience, yet he could feel the sorrow and the pain that leaked from his double's chest.
But now… The woman was curled up in that man's arms, and in an instant, he felt like he had been pulled directly into that body. Even though it looked like his, it felt so very different.
For starters, he could feel everything, but his movements were not his own. Secondly, he couldn't feel or hear the other occupants of the body at all. Not his or this version's. He could feel the warmth of the woman's skin, and the soft swell of her breasts and ass as the body moved without his consent.
There was more movement that he couldn't control, but really, he didn't seem to mind at all, because it felt good, and this was the woman from his dreams. She moaned and shifted, rolling her hips against his, and he hissed as he buried his face into her neck, smelling her sweat and her lust.
"Ah, mmm…" She moaned and then spoke up.
"Hey, you awake?"
"Sì, mi vida…" A voice just like his own rasped back, and he suddenly felt just how hard he was as his hands touched her body. She squeaked and he stopped moving, feeling like he may have hurt her.
"Mierda. Did I hurt you?"
"No, it's okay. I liked it." Her words sent him into a frenzy, and began to grope at her again, until he heard his name on her lips.
"Jake…"
He could have sang, if his body wasn't being operated by the other him. He suddenly had a thought, and he groaned as the words flew from his mouth, surprising him that he managed to make the body do something.
"Can I have you?
"Y-yes."
When she answered yes, he was over the moon, and the body seemed to be doing what he wanted, but every so often, it wouldn't, which only reminded him that this highly graphic dream was not under his control.
***
"Really?" Jake asked, hoping he didn't imagine the answer he was hoping for. Both Steven and Marc were awake, and they were stunned at what was happening. Marc was a bit jealous, and Steven was envious.
"Yes. You can have me. All of you can have me." You replied softly, and Jake groaned. He heard his alters groan in his head, telling him they were awake and fully aware. He was quick to reposition himself so he was on top of you, gazing down at how you looked in Marc's shirt he 'let you borrow' the previous night.
"Mi hermosa bruja…" And he moved down to capture your lips with his, his hips lowering to brush himself against you. You groaned at the feeling of him through the layers of thin fabric.
"Oh fuck." You breathed into his mouth. His hands made quick work of ripping the shirt from your body, his face diving down to capture one of your tender buds in his mouth. He tossed the useless piece of fabric to the side, then went down to tug on your shorts. You wriggled free, leaving you in nothing and very exposed. Jake pulled and tugged on your nipple with his teeth as his hands explored your thighs.
Your hands dived into his hair, pulling him in while you groaned and arched your back. His fingers came down, gently parting your folds as he slipped a couple of fingertips just inside your seam. His fingers moved up and down, brushing around your clit every so often, making sure to spread your wetness around. You thrust your hips up, begging him for more, and he growled as he slipped two fingers inside.
In and out he pumped his fingers, delighting in how you squirmed for him, and how your face scrunched up in pleasure. One of your hands flew down to wrap around his wrist as you pushed his hand harder against your core. Jake sucked his lower lip into his mouth as he curled his fingers, causing you to buck up wildly into his hand. He did this for a little longer, then he pulled his hand away to see how soaked his hand was.
Jake moaned as he sucked on his fingers, his eyes staring right into yours. You shivered and grabbed for his underwear, quickly pulling them down so his beautiful fat cock was on display. He quickly discarded them and leaned in once more, this time pressing himself flush against your chest as he kissed you hard a fast. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and you shivered as he ran his hands down your sides. His hands grabbed at your ass, pulling your hips up and off the mattress while he shoved his knees underneath you. He pulled away, huffing as he looked at you with desire in his blown pupils.
"Mi hermosa luz de luna." Jake murmured. He moved one hand to your face, cupping your cheek. He rubbed it with his thumb, then let go. He trailed his fingers down, along your neck and collarbone making you whine for him. As his fingers circled each breast, flicking each nipple as he went, you melted and sighed. You enjoyed those rough feeling fingers on your skin, knowing his hands did hard manual labor. You watched as he brushed over your stomach, to your navel, and beyond to your mound. He barely touched you, before he drew a line up your inner thigh.
Small whimpers left your mouth as Jake drew his hand away and to his plump cock. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft and pumped himself lazily a few times as he watched for your reaction. You groaned as you watched a thick glob of precome dribble out and down the fat head.
"I've wanted you for so long… We all have." Jake husked as he lined himself up with your dripping hole. He rubbed the head up and down your slit, earning him a gasp as he watched your body quiver.
"Fuck, I've wanted you all since those dreams started up…" You softly admitted, and Jake hissed as he fought the urge to slam himself into you.
"Ready?" He asked. You nodded and ran your hands up his arms, right up to his broad shoulders and into his hair.
"Yesss… Please." You breathed hotly and he slowly sank into your moist heat. Your whole body tensed, but in a good way. You found your legs were wrapping around his waist automatically, with him smoothing a hand down to your ass to help steady you. He gently lifted you as he pressed even deeper into your heat. Jake was holding back a snarl at how good you felt.
"¡Mierda! Mi luz de luna…" Jake kissed you feverishly as his hips started to move. He held you still as he thrusted hard and slow into you. Both of his headmates were groaning loudly in delight at the show. There was a silent understanding that Marc and Steven would be patient and wait until he was done with you.
"Jake, fuck… So big…" You whined at him. Jake hissed and stilled, your words shooting straight to his balls. He could hear Steven loosing his shit about the body having a large sexual organ, and Marc telling him to shut the fuck up so he could hear the moans you were making.
Jake couldn't help himself as he went harder and faster. He could feel your nails digging into the nape of his neck and shoulder, and he was more than happy to keep going until his back was destroyed.
"Te sientes muy bien. So fucking good…" Jake slowly twisted himself back so you were sitting in his lap as he thrusted up into you. The way he held your hips made it so you could barely move, like he was more interested in rubbing you from the inside, instead of battering your innards with his cock. It felt so intimate, so right.
You groaned at the way the position changed. He was going even deeper than before, and you had troubles focusing on anything but his face. Every thrust was hitting you just right, making you see stars as you gripped his shoulders. Your hips moved with his, chasing the incredible feeling higher and higher.
"J-Jake…" You gasped his name as you felt the knot inside of you come dangerously close to snapping. He shifted you on his lap, pulling you flush against his chest. He pressed your body down against his as he pushed upwards, making sure to grind his pelvis against your clit. The entire time, his forehead was resting on yours, his sweat dripping down his beautiful skin.
"Mi hermosa bruja… Let go… Come for me…" Jake groaned out right before he kissed you hard. He licked into your mouth and bit your lip, sucking it into his mouth as he gave you an extra hard couple of thrusts.
Your cries were muffled from Jake breathing in your scream as you felt everything unravel. Intense pleasure shocked your system as you came the hardest you had in a very long time. You had such an intense orgasm, that you soaked his lap. Your body was thrumming and vibrating as he kept digging himself into you.
"Just a little bit more…" Jake breathed against your lips. You had enough strength to move your hips again, helping him to chase his orgasm much faster. He started cursing in Spanish as he gripped your sides tighter.
You could feel a second orgasm quickly approaching, and you moved a bit faster as you captured his lips with yours. In no time at all, he was throwing his head back, exposing his throat to you. You leaned in and licked at his skin, and that was it for Jake. He groaned loudly as he came, while you rode him until you peaked again.
You both slowed right down. You kept licking his neck as he shook beneath you. He was still babbling out expletives as you lazily rocked on his lap, milking him for everything that he had while resting your head on his shoulder.
"That… Was amazing, Jake… Thank you" You huffed as you hugged him tightly. He squeezed you back and nuzzled his face into your neck.
"Sí. Asombrosa." He gave you a few kisses, then slowly helped you off of him. He stumbled towards the kitchen and grabbed one of the towels there. He was quick with getting it warm and wet, then he came back to gently clean you up.
"You know I can just go have a shower or use my magic to clean up-"
"Shush. Let me. It's the least I can do after." Jake grinned as he did just that, then cleaned himself up after.
***
Back in England, the man bolted upright as his bed creaked loudly. His shirtless chest was covered in beads of sweat, his hair messy and damp. The droplets slowly moved with gravity, from his hairline, down the sides of his face and neck, only to pool in the divots of his clavicle, before finally trickling down the silver chain of his necklace.
'What the fuck kind of dream was that, Jake?' A soft and panicked voice wafted up to meet the man now sitting in his bed, alone. The man, Jake, slowly looked over at the full length mirror beside his bed, his eyes meeting with his reflection.
"That's never happened before, Steven. They've never been erotic dreams. Why now, all of a sudden?" Jake replied to the mirror. His reflection shrugged and moved off the bed to stand with his arms crossed over his chest. It was very obvious the dream was so realistic, it left physical evidence. There was a large darkened wet patch on the front of the boxers, and the man in the mirror was still hard as a rock.
'Yeah, well… It happened, mate. That was too real to be just a bloody dream.' The reflection said as he indicated to his groin in a comical fashion. Jake sighed and he stood up to show his reflection the same problem as he rubbed the back of his neck and gave a shrug.
'You want to know what I think?' Another voice spoke up. Both Jake and his reflection looked towards the other mirror on the wall. This one had a bored expression.
"Sí, Spector. I do want to know." Jake barked at him. The one on the wall grinned and pointed to one of Steven's book cases.
'Dream walking. I've heard about it from Khonshu. He told me once, that some of the dreams I have can be explained in that book. I haven't gotten around to it, since it's Steven's book and he hasn't even read it yet.'
'That book, Marc? It was a thrift store find. I liked the cover.' Steven bubbled up in reply.
'Yeah, that book, Steven. The one you bought because you couldn't find the publication date.' Marc said as he rolled his eyes.
"I thought he bought it because it looked old as dirt." Jake remarked as he went to the patio door and stepped outside. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the railing, his eyes trained to a specific direction without really knowing why.
'Well, yes… That too.' Steven said as he shifted over from the mirror to the reflection of the glass in the patio door. Marc took his time, slowly appearing in many smaller reflections, until he got to the dusty service of the lid on the unused barbecue grill.
'You should really try reading the book, Jake. You never read books, just magazines and those comic books. If you don't, I will. Just thought you were the one that was most concerned about this woman we keep dreaming about-'
"¡Mierda! Fine! I'll read the damned book. Just let me have a fucking smoke first." Jake snapped back at them both. He stood still for a long time, just puffing away as the gears in his mind started to turn. The other two went quiet and allowed Jake his peace until he went back into the flat.
Once back inside, Jake took the old book and sat down at Steven's desk with a coffee. Just like Steven, he needed reading glasses, and he had bought his own pair to use. His were round, framed with a thin gold wire and matching gold arms. He set them onto his face and opened the book, beginning to read while his alters read over his shoulder. All three of them took in the knowledge, signaling to one another when they were done and needed the page to be turned.
It wasn't until a mixture of exactly three coffees, two black, one with an obscene amount of cream and sugar, and then four Earl Greys with oat milk and honey later, that they finished the book. By then, it was the wee hours of the morning when they called their patron deity for a talk.
***
Series Master List
***
Items the reader picked up:
Bag of Holding(D&D name)/Bag of Infinite Capacity (MCU name)
Wand of Watoomb
Sands of Nisanti
Various books and scrolls
Gold and silver
Strange's Sling ring from the destroyed universe
Cloak of Levitation can change colors and forms, at least according to my research. It supposedly changes to suit whoever wears it. I named the cloak, and I decided it's a he, just so I can call him a good boi. And his name is Gary. I legit name the red cloak Gary in all the first I write.
***
Special thanks for proofreading goes to:
Not today, no one.
Special thanks to:
@mics89 for Spanish translations. I remembered you helped me with them a long time ago, and I never got around to posting this.
part two I part one Doctor Strange Appreciation Event 2022
Day 15: Happy Birthday, Stephen Strange!
summary: Stephen Strange x Sorceress Reader. Cloak enlists your help to make Stephen's birthday a special one. But the question is: will he actually be around to enjoy the celebration?
characters: Stephen Strange, Cloak of Levitation, Sorceress Reader
genre: fluff, pining, first kisses
rating: general audience
word count: 3.9k
Chapter Three
Befuddled by the sudden, comfy---albeit entirely unexpected---embrace, you found yourself immediately bewitched by the scent embedded in the thick, soft material. You smell just like...him, you sighed inwardly, and you could swear that you heard the faint whisper of a reply in your mind---I knooooowww. You blinked in disbelief but allowed yourself the treat of breathing deeply---closing your eyes while delighting in the fragrance of Strange’s aftershave, masculine and woodsy with notes of bright, clean citrus, overlaying the sage and frankincense he used while meditating.
Cloak also bore traces of scent that often lingered in the aftermath of magic; the more powerful the spell or the sorcerer, the stronger was the scent left behind---so that widely experienced Masters were sometimes able to identify who had cast the spell by the fragrance left in the aftermath. You were imagining that this would be very close to how it would feel to be held close in Stephen Strange’s arms---and you could feel Cloak heartily agree. Yeeeeesssss. A wave of its genuine affection washed over you, and you sent the same feeling back to this unique and wonderful sentient being, understanding that it perceived the secret feelings you’d been harboring for the Master of the New York Sanctum...and that Cloak approved.
“I always knew there’d come a day when Cloak would leave me for someone much prettier.” Strange sounded amused, his voice smooth and deep, thrumming through you as it always did. This was the voice you often wished would sound in your dreams at night. His nearly iridescent eyes were filled with warmth and mirth, while his lopsided smiled seemed purely for you. “And I see congratulations are in order, Y/N.” He leaned closer, letting his voice drop into a confidential tone, “I’m guessing that Cloak must have noticed that too.”
“I...I...” you stammered, discombobulated by how very near he was; near enough for you to number the smattering of pale freckles upon his handsome face. “I, uh...thank you, Doctor Strange.”
“Oh, no need to be so formal, Y/N. It’s Stephen, now that you’re a Master too,” he winked and grinned, and somehow that made you relax just a bit. “Please?”
“Stephen,” you breathed, “Of course.” Cloak rippled its approval.
He was studying you in silence, but all thought had left your mind, lost as you felt in the wisdom and humor reflected in his remarkable eyes. “That color suits you, too,” he continued, “Have you decided on a specialty yet?”
Saaaayyyy somethinnnng, came Cloak’s quiet instruction, enough to nudge an answer from your lips. “No, um...not yet, anyway. It’s just my first official day as a Master.”
“Ah...well...,” the fine crinkles beside his riveting eyes reflected his continued good humor, “No rush then. Whatever discipline you choose will be fortunate to have you.”
Your cheeks colored at his compliment, your heart thrilled to hear it. You forced yourself to hold his gaze instead of looking away, which was your natural inclination. “Thank you, Stephen. You’re very kind to say so.”
He nodded and gave a small shrug, and then bit his lip, looking slightly perplexed. “So...um...dunno what’s up with Cloak right now, but it appears it wants to stick with you a while. I guess it’ll find me when it’s ready---if it hasn’t decided to throw me over for a new Master,” he teased.
“Ohhhh...I’m sure it’s just being...friendly. Like it was when I visited your Sanctum last spring,” you offered, “It feels...playful. And kind of...hmmm...excited about something. Does that make sense?”
Stephen nodded again, though he looked even more baffled. “It does...for the most part. But, yeah---that’s how it works with us. Cloak is surprisingly empathetic; it reads my feelings and anticipates my needs. Especially when we’re in a precarious situation. And that communication goes both ways.”
The both of you were surprised when Cloak flicked what looked like a thumb’s up. Stephen shook his head and took a deep sigh, conceding to his Relic’s silent persuasion, “Alright, alright...have it your way. But keep it low key, okay? It’s N’s/Y first day as a Master, so please just give her an easy test ride---there’s no need to show off by taking her on a trip around the world.” He smiled at you reassuringly, “Unless you feel like visiting the French Riviera or Bora Bora.”
“That sounds pretty tempting, Stephen,” you chuckled, “But as I’ve got a pretty full schedule today, I’d have to regretfully decline.” Cloak gave you a quick, understanding squeeze. We’ve...much to...doooooooo, it promised.
Stephen inclined his head toward the knot of Masters waiting for him across the courtyard, “Speaking of, I’ve got a few things to attend to as well.” He addressed Cloak directly again, “I should be done here in a few hours. If N/Y hasn’t completely stolen your loyalty by then, come find me before I head back to New York?”
Cloak snapped its version of a salute and began to tug you to move along. Stephen was grinning to see you experience something very familiar to him. “Again, you have my sincere congratulations, Master N/Y. You’ve got a lot to be proud of.” As soon as he turned away, Cloak was dragging you towards the dormitory wing of the compound.
_______________________________________
“I’m sorry...what?” Cloak was sending you a series of images, but in its excitement, far too rapidly for you to make any sense out of them. You could feel its frustration mounting. “Slow down,” you suggested. “Give me a chance to ask some yes or no questions.”
Cloak patted your cheek, and you closed your eyes to concentrate. A picture of a bunch of balloons popped into your head. “Okay, balloons. Are they for someone?”
Yeeeeesssss...
Now you saw a tall, chocolate-frosted cake in your mind’s eye. “Cake. Alright...so with balloons, that makes me think of a celebration. Is this...is this about a party of some sort?”
Cloak nodded around you so vigorously that you almost felt dizzy.
“A birthday party?”
Yup yup yuuuuuuuup... Astonishingly, you could feel it pop that final ‘p’, in sure imitation of its Master.
“For who?” In answer, you felt what must have been Cloak’s sentience riffling through your mind. Gently searching for a very particular memory. Suddenly, you saw Stephen’s face as you leaned in to brush a solitary kiss upon his cheek. That sweet little kiss you had given him in appreciation for how kindly he’d been when you’d visited his Sanctum with those young Novices last spring. The very same kiss that Cloak had urged you into, helping you to overcome your shyness about being so forward towards your crush. “Ooooohhhh! For Stephen.”
Bingoooooo!
“Is it today?” you enquired, wishing that you had known about it already, so you might have given the Master of the New York Sanctum birthday greetings.
Cloak fluttered around you. Nooooooo...but sooooooon.
“Alright...alright...when?”
You saw a calendar hanging on a wall, open to November, with the 18th circled in red. “Got it! So you want me to wish him a happy birthday in ten days?”
Yesssssss...but nooooooo...
Suddenly you saw yourself at nine years old, blowing out the candles on your birthday cake, surround by your best friends, all wearing party hats. “Wait...what...you want me to have a party for Stephen?”
You could feel Cloak’s relief at being fully understood. Yesssssss...
“Okay...okay.” Your mind immediately whirled with possibilities. “I can do this. I just need to give it some thought.”
Now you could feel Cloak straining to communicate, and understood shortly thereafter that is was attempting its most complicated message yet. Muuuust...muuuust be...surpriiiiiiise!
“Got it,” you grinned, beginning to imagine the happy light that would come to Stephen’s eyes when he came upon such a wonderful surprise. “I absolutely can do this. But you’re going to need to find a way to get him out of the Sanctum for a couple hours on the 18th so I can get things set up. Do you think you can manage that?” Cloak hugged you warmly and gave you a small, celebratory twirl.
You already had a couple of unique ideas that would make the party extra special for your hero and unrepentant crush. Though part of you was already thinking...hoping...wishing, that perhaps he might be pleased enough by the end of the party to sweep you into his arms and show you his appreciation with some sweet kisses of his own.
Chapter Four
When it comes to the world of magic and mysticism, even the most meticulously planned events can meet with failure. Though you knew this to be true, you couldn’t help feeling disappointed and downright glum. The birthday banner still hung in the darkened dining hall, with the balloons and streamers left behind as the guests had departed in small groups once it had been clear that the guest of honor was going to be a no-show.
The young Novices you’d brought along to Strange’s Sanctum had been disappointed too; you had taught them to sing Happy Birthday, first in English and then in Nepali, but they never got the chance. You had cut the cake and dished out the ice cream for them as a consolation prize, setting aside a generous sized slice for Stephen---not even sure when he might return from what was supposed to have been a cakewalk of a mission.
And of course, you had begun to fret a bit for Stephen’s safety. Cloak was supposed to make sure they returned hours ago. Although Strange was the most brilliant, gifted Sorcerer that had arisen in the Mystic Brotherhood since The Ancient One herself, he was still a mortal man---and even Cloak, for all its dedication and loyalty, could not guarantee his well-being when confronted with unknown, staggering odds. You wished you had the Gift of Sight, so you might catch of glimpse of how your Hero and his stalwart companion fared---while part of you wondered if you should gather the supplies needed should you decide on attempting to scry out his location.
Perhaps Strange was in need of help, trapped in mystical, even nefarious, entanglements. If so, you were more than willing to hazard yourself to come to his aid. Conjuring a simple hourglass, you vowed to wait for only half the contents to spill into its bottom half, and if he hadn’t returned to his Sanctum by then you would set out to search for him.
Cloak had finally managed to pull its beloved, battle-singed and weary Sorcerer from the clean-up that had followed a nasty and completely unexpected confrontation. The pair had been inadvertently caught in the middle of an intense tribal rivalry between two villages on the outskirts of the Amazon Rainforest. In a bid to settle the conflict, both village Shamans had reached out to Kamar-Taj, requesting the aid of a Master to help them negotiate the peace, and Stephen had been tapped to adjudicate the meeting.
Things had gone awry about twenty minutes into the assembly of the tribe Elders, Shamans, and Strange, when a group of about two dozen villagers (from both tribes) who had been taken under the influence of a Dark Magician---one who thrived upon chaos of any kind---had begun hurling bottled curses at them, which were unleashed when their containers shattered. With the help of the Shamans, Stephen had set up protective wards and then summoned further assistance from Kathmandu. The coterie of Sorcerers had freed the entranced villagers of the Dark Magician’s enchantment, eventually leaving Stephen to root out and vanquish the evil doer. However, that had proven far more difficult than he had anticipated, for the villain had left scores of booby traps---both magical and mortal---to protect his lair. In the end, Stephen had needed several of his fellow Sorcerers to overcome and then banish the Dark Magician to a pocket dimension.
Once the portal back to New York had closed behind them, Cloak began to pull Stephen to the dining hall, knowing that his surprise party awaited him there. “Hold up,” Stephen had growled, “All I want right now is a long, hot shower. I can grab something to eat later.” Cloak only tugged at him all the harder, while making sure it blocked him from receiving any of its thoughts and emotions, in order to keep the secret. The completion of the plan it had hatched weeks ago was only a trip down two flights of stairs away.
Cloak could feel its Sorcerer’s agitation growing with each dragged footstep, and at the second floor landing Stephen decided that he had enough, trying his best to shrug his Relic off. “Goddammit, I’m in no mood for this. Let me go!” He continued to struggle heroically, even as they arrived at the entrance to the dining hall.
If Cloak had an actual head, it surely would have scratched it, dumbfounded that the room was dark and empty. That was a strong enough reaction that Stephen did feel it, moving him to pose the question, “Just what were you expecting?” In the darkness, he wasn’t able to discern the decorations that had been meant for his celebration.
Cloak gave no answer, but immediately flitted away, zipping along the hallway in search of answers---eventually locating you sitting dejectedly in the kitchen. You blinked in surprise and relief, certain that its presence meant that Stephen Strange was home and safe. Cloak flashed its version of two thumbs up, then rushed off to collect Stephen.
Wasting no time, you banished the hourglass and snapped your fingers to light the few candles you had placed on the slice of birthday cake you’d saved for your Hero. Your heart was racing with happy anticipation while you considered if you should try to sing the birthday song to him by yourself. Any notes you might have uttered fell short when you saw Stephen’s battle worn state as Cloak ushered him into the room.
His brow remained furrowed for a moment, until he took in the full picture, with you and the lit candles enough to explain Cloak’s seemingly bizarre behavior. Cloak itself had withdrawn to the hall just outside the kitchen, content that its mission been accomplished---if not in the measure it had hoped for, at least in the spirit of offering Stephen birthday wishes.
Stephen’s expression had softened once he realized what you’d done for him, and he gifted you the easy smile you adored. “You two were in cahoots, weren’t you?” You nodded, momentarily tongue-tied at the dashing figure he cut---the soot of magical battle still coloring his cheekbones and robes---combined with the growing light of amusement in his compelling eyes. “How did you know?”
“It was Cloak’s idea…Stephen,” you managed, still feeling the novelty of calling him by his given name, as he came to stand across the table from you, “It wanted to be sure you weren’t forgotten on your birthday.” You lowered your eyes, made almost too shy by the warm appraisal in his gaze to reveal your part of the plan. “It asked for my help…”
“That day at Kamar-Taj,” he marveled, grinning.
“Uh…yes. And I’ve been more than happy to do it…” You dared to meet his eyes again, which immediately stirred those familiar butterflies in your tummy.
“Hmmmmm,” he mused, “Well I’ll be damned…”
You found your fingers itching to set right the errant curl draped across his forehead, and bit you lip at the pleasant shiver that ran up your spine from the way he was watching you. “Once I understood what Cloak wanted for you, I set it all up…I even asked Master Wong to find an easy task to keep you out of the Sanctum while I decorated and greeted the guests,” you explained. “It was supposed to be easy, I swear. I’m guessing something went wrong…”
“A bit,” he nodded, and you guessed he was trying to play down the severity of what had actually happened, “But nothing I couldn’t handle. Pretty close to routine, in fact.”
“Really,” you scoffed, liking him even more for attempting to spare your feelings, “You look like you’ve been in the thick of it…Stephen.”
He shook his head, waving off your concern, “Nah---just another day in the life…”
“Well, somehow I believe you’re being too modest,” you countered, “But, be that as it may, Happy Birthday, Doctor Strange, for, uh…for what it’s worth.”
“Thank you, N/Y. That means a lot, coming from you this way.” He took a seat at the end of the table, closer to where you stood.
“There were guests, of course. Cake and ice cream.” You felt yourself begin to relax, and moved your chair to the corner of the table to sit next to him. “I had some of the younglings here too; they were very excited for the chance to sing for you.”
“Then I’m doubly sorry to have missed it,” he murmured, the warmth of his voice thrumming through you as it always did when he was this close. “But at least there’s still cake and candles and…and you to help me celebrate. Quietly.” Stephen laid his hand atop yours, the contact making your skin tingle. Making you wish he might do more. So much more.
You spotted Cloak pop its collar just around the door jamb, as though checking up on you. It seemed to nod slowly, knowingly even, and then it flew away.
“So…um…maybe you should blow out the candles before they burn all the way down?”
“Yes…I guess I should.” Stephen twirled his forefinger and the overhead light dimmed by half. “Mood lighting,” he smiled, as you watched the candlelight dance in his eyes. He twirled his finger again and the small clock radio on the kitchen counter came to life. Your jaw dropped when If You Were Here began playing.
“Hey, isn’t this…” you started, and then took his cheeky grin for an affirmative answer. You wondered if the low light was still enough for him to see that you were blushing at that reference to that old movie from the 80’s which featured this song.
When he bent close to the cake, he paused a moment, long enough for you to remind him, “Be sure to make a wish.”
“Oh, I will, N/Y. Count on it.” Stephen puckered his beautiful, tempting lips, closed his eyes, and blew out the flames with one decisive breath.
Your voice went low and husky without you really meaning it to, “Happy Birthday, Stephen. And many, many happy returns.”
That drew his eyes back to yours. An air of expectancy filled the little space between you two, and you were very aware of the moment that his rather molten gaze dropped to your lips, while the Thompson Twins sang on. …but just like the rain, I’ll always be falling, yeah…only to rise and fall again…
Stunned and amazed by what seemed to be happening, you were barely able to whisper, “What did you wish for?”
He chuckled softly, “Well now, if I tell you, it won’t come true---will it?”
“I…I dunno…” He had laced his fingers through yours and his face was as nearly as close as it could get.
“Maybe…maybe the best wishes come true all on their own,” you suggested, “If we wish hard enough.”
“Or if such a wish is shared by two, don’t you think?” He had parted his lips slightly, waiting upon your reply, and the need you felt to taste them was undeniable. All you could do was nod slightly, whetting you own lips in anticipation. Stephen wore that little quirk of a smile, one of a hundred things about him you had memorized and adored, as he tilted your chin up with the lightest touch, whispering, “Happy Birthday to me, after all…”
He began with the gentlest brush of his lips to yours, so alike some of your fantasies of him that you briefly wondered if you were dreaming yet again. Then he plumped his lush bottom lip against yours, and even in this you could feel him smile, while he delivered several quiet kisses more, lingering longer with each one until you parted your lips to allow him to deepen the connection.
You were trembling---had always known that you would if this moment ever came to pass---and Stephen cupped your face in his hands to steady you. His strong, powerful hands so warm against your skin, as he stroked his thumbs along your cheekbones. He tasted of spearmint gum, of magic, and of long-delayed satisfaction. He tasted like he’d been wanting to kiss you as badly as you had wanted to kiss him for many months now, and of patience truly being worth the wait. His kiss was the heaven you had been waiting for most of your adult life.
When he finally parted from your lips, Stephen kept your face sweetly cradled, unwilling to be more than a breath apart from you. “Cloak was right again,” he muttered, “Cloak is almost always right.”
“Oh?” You asked him breathlessly, “That I’ve had a crush on you for, like…forever?”
“No,” he breathed against your tender, hungry lips, “That I should kiss you at the soonest opportunity. And for as long as humanly possible.”
“That’s one brilliant Relic you have there, Stephen.” You landed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, “And I think we need to follow its advice to the letter…”
“Mmmmmmmm,” he rumbled, more than ready to do just that, “And birthday kisses are just the beginning…”
This time his lips became more urgent, and so deliciously demanding that you would always remember them as...swoon worthy. An old fashioned expression, surely, but utterly true in this case. Stephen was sweeping you off your feet, though you remained solidly in place, making you melt under the silken play of his tongue against yours, leaving you to hope he liked the little sounds of pleasure you were making for him. When he drifted his lips across your cheek and then your jaw you couldn’t help but moan your ecstasy, certain you would remember this interlude, this night, as the most glorious of your life.
Stephen gave over a satisfied moan when you finally braved running your fingers through his hair, and that really was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d heard in your life. “Don’t you dare stop now, N/Y. I’ve been needing this for far too long.”
You giggled when his whiskers tickled the hollow of your throat, and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin in response. Grown braver than ever from his scrumptious attentions, you asked a rather cheeky question amid the pants and moans he drew from you. “So tell me please, Stephen---has your birthday wish come true?”
You felt the smooth dark chocolate of his pleased rumble fill your chest, while happiness filled your heart. “Hmmmmmm...in part, yes...”
“And,” you asked him breathlessly, “What more can there be?”
Stephen pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his own dark with unspoken desires, “As I said before, if I say it out loud it might not come true.” He lifted a single brow, his eyes flaring as he promised you, “But my birthday isn’t over for a few hours more, so let’s see what else we can make come true, shall we?”
Anything you want you beautiful man, you were thinking as he dived in for a passion filled kiss,anything and everything will absolutely do.
If you're curious, the song referenced is from the closing scene of Sixteen Candles😊
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