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temis-de-leon · 1 month

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Love potion and OM! Brothers - Part 2

Characters: Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)

Intro , Part 1 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: fluff, a tiny little bit suggestive, Belphie's a brat (aren't we all surprised), brothers crushing hard and MC implied to be crushing hard too, pre-established relationship

A/N: Just like in other posts, I can't seem to be able to properly tag some of you :(

Satan

How could he see the cat from his seat by the window, Satan didn’t know, but he would be crazy if he ever let go of the opportunity to pet one. The only thing he could think of before rushing out was grabbing you and some treats and hope the kitten was still there by the time you arrived.

He could feel his excitement buzzing in his chest when he knocked your door, but no sound came in return. He sent you a message, growing impatient and pacing in the hallway until he entered your room with determination.

“MC! Cat alert! I need help to sneak him in!”

Your smell was strong, but you didn’t seem to be in the room. Weird. However, it didn’t take him long to realize it was actually coming from the cauldron.

Satan got closer, temporarily forgetting about the cat while he studied the glittery liquid or, rather, holographic. He moved the spoon, humming when it reflected the warm light of the candles in a fluid motion. The smell was delicious, but it didn’t resemble any food he could think of. Actually, it reminded him of the Royal Library and the cat café you both visited after your study sessions.

Soft, shimmering, appealing.

A love potion? What were you doing, MC? Trying to enchant somebody?

He could tell you had left before finishing your project, otherwise, the essence would be stronger. Satan wondered if whatever you smelt reminded you of him in any sort of way. Maybe his cologne? Or the smell of treats and old books that plagued his room?

The brief thought of adding a strand of his hair crossed his mind, but he quickly erased it. He loved you and he wanted you to love him, yes, but he’d be damned if he forced those feelings. You taught him love and affection, allowing him to experience every word he’d ever read in his romance books and picturing you as the main character’s love interest.

Satan had no doubts. If you were to reciprocate his feelings, he’d prefer them to be real.

Asmo

“You won’t believe it, MC!”

He gained one thousand followers in Devilgram in just one night! Sneaking out and going to that party with Mammon was totally worth it! They both had to kneel before Lucifer for three whole hours and Mammon was hung upside down, that was true, but still, totally worth it!

Now, where were you? Your phone was charging on your bedside table and only half of the candles were lit, pictures of the family and various trinkets decorating the branches of the tree. He could see all the skincare products he’d ever recommend and bought for you on the table, but he frowned when he hold a bottle in his hand and felt it was almost empty.

Why didn’t you tell him? You could use the opportunity to go on a shopping spree with him! But… ooh, what were you making? It looked like the face oil you just finished! Silky, golden and glittery, almost odourless if not for the faint smell of your lip balm and flowers; roses, like the ones in his room.

Were you trying to replicate the product? He could understand why, it was a little expensive after all, but it wouldn’t achieve the same results as the original. Natural ingredients had some limits, after all. But hey, it could be fun! You had some great ideas, MC; although it was a pity you didn’t want to share them with him.

Or, maybe, you wanted to surprise him! A fuzzy feeling covered his heart at the thought, like bubbles in a sugary drink, and he had the sudden need of sitting down next to the cauldron with mixed words stuck in his throat. The oil changed its appearance from that perspective, the golden colour turning hot pink with red swirls.

Asmodeus stared in amazement, wondering what type of ingredients you used to create such a hypnotizing concoction. Could you share the recipe with him? It would be your little secret! He already had some ideas for the next one, like a soft baby pink or a shimmery white that looked and smelled like frosting.

Or, perhaps, if you were keen on the idea, you could come together to create a new smell that would only belong to you. Something that he’d never share with anyone else and could never be duplicated.

Like all the love he felt for you.

Beel

Forgive him, MC.

It smelt too good.

Like cheeseburgers with fries and pizza with sodas and raw cookie dough with marshmallows and ice cream and chips of every flavour… Everything he had ever eaten with you, especially during that movie marathon weekend.

It had been a consolation price for losing his last Fangol game, something that hardly happened and left him with a sour taste in his mouth, broody and frustrated, so not like him. He’d been hungrier than ever then and, if not for Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he would’ve eaten half of the coliseum. Thankfully, you had a whole stack of food ready to be taken in the kitchen.

Beel knew you probably bought it all thinking he would win the game, but, hey, food is food. He’d never think of complaining, especially when it came from you.

He didn’t remember what you watched and he already apologized for it a couple of times, but he wasn’t really bothered about it. After all, he’d spent the whole weekend cuddling you, crossing the wobbly line of friendship you’d both established long ago, and eating everything you had for him. Only when the week began again he realized he hadn’t been left entirely satisfied and he deeply hoped you felt the same.

Should he had kiss you? Distract you from the movie and confess under the blankets, smelling you amongst the sugary and savoury food?

He wasn’t sure at the time, but Belphie’s teasing was encouragement enough for him to leave his bedroom and rush to yours.

But you weren’t there.

And the cauldron smelt so good.

Beel didn’t even have time to check what it was before drinking it all at full speed as if it was a bottle of water after practice. The smell remained only for a couple of seconds, but he didn’t feel any different, maybe a little bit warmer than before.

Whatever.

Where were you, MC? He had something to tell you.

Belphie

He was dreaming of the beach, waves crashing against the sand and warm wind tanning his skin, but you weren’t there. He looked around for a while, finding no one, so, although very reluctantly, he forced himself to wake up.

The attic was empty and without the seawater’s coolness the high temperature in the room left him sticky, tangled in his sheets and uncomfortable. He searched for his DDD, toying with the idea of sending you a message in hopes of sleeping in your room, but he didn’t know how long it would take you to respond, so, grabbing his pillow and his blanket, he got up and went down the stairs.

He hadn’t seen you since last night and you didn’t share any classes that day, hence him not going to RAD despite Lucifer’s complaints. Then, dinner had been hectic with everyone trying to get your attention, so, overall, Belphie didn’t really spend any time with you that day and he missed you too much to sleep properly.

Yes, he blamed you.

And yes, it was a reason good enough to enter your room without knocking.

Disappointingly, just like in his dream, you weren’t there, although it smelt so much like you: your human essence, your body products and your detergent, which he’d stolen multiple times to clean his bed sheets.

Did you do laundry recently? Why didn’t you say anything? Or were you in the shower? In that case, don’t worry MC, he could wait, just not for long; after all, your bed was too comfortable and your room was especially homey that night. He expected you to be already at the beach by the time he got there.

Naked, clothed, in your swimwear, he didn’t care. Belphie just wanted you there with him. Hopefully, forever.

@hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav @zarakem @yuuvis32 @anxious-chick @commets-space @deepestartisanhumanoidshark @ourfinalisation

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quartztwst · 2 months

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waitt Azul doesn't like rielle? I'm sry I'm not on Jp but PLZZ tell mee I always thought he was neutral

I THINK HE HATED RIELLE he said he was cringe or smth???

I KNOW HE MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT RIELLE AND I THINK AZUL HAS AN ICK FOR HIM HE WAS LIKE “ew rielle i think he should die” or smth idk i REMEMBER IT OR WAS THAT MADE UP IN MY MEMORY WTF

I LOOKED AND I SWEAR THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT AZULBEING A HATER AND I DONT SEE ANYTHING

DID I MAKE IT UP IN MY HEAD AM I DELSUIONAL?? AM I CRAZY??? IM SO CRAZY FOR AZUL I STARTED MAKING SHIT UP IN MY HEAD.

im insane im gone what the fuck i swear

I SWEAR

anyways about my rielle teehee bc fuck azul whatever

Rielle (MY VERSION)

Second year (17)

Dude sometimes is dumb as fuck

Geninuely did not pay attention to Azul until they both went up to the surface

But he did think Azul was cool so he thinks they’re friends but Azul thinks he’s fucking cringe

the reason he didn’t even think about azul is because ermmm he’s a royal and was taught not to talk to POOR POEPLEE (azul is not poor)

but you get what i was saying

he’s the youngest and he’s mostly left behind so he spends his time alone and quiet

UNTIL HE DISCOVERED THAT HUMANS FUCKING EXIST AND WAS LIKE “yo, dad, i wanna go to the surface”

and his dad was like “what but the surface is kinda wack no”

and then he asked the TWST equalivent of Sebastian (CRAB ONE NOT THE DEMON) and RAN AWAY??? TO THE SURFACE. HE LIKE

HE LITERALLY LEFT HOME TO GO TO SCHOOL ON THE SURFACE (no contract needed)

he met azul again during the boot camp thing and wanted to make friends for the first time and was met with “ew die” from azul

he’s very curious about land and land dweller culture so he’s always trying to try everything before his dad figures out where he is at.

he’s late to class everyday bc he’s too busy researching and trying something out

his guardian basically sebastian

accidentally made meth once

his grades are actually pretty good. he’s everywhere but he also studies the night before the test and somehow gets 91%

created an essay under 7 hours and got a decent score

gets his ass scolded by Cedric (cinderella twst oc) and Sebastian bc he keeps doing that

tries to get Neige into his antics

Asked Neige to go sky-diving with him and they literally both went (Neige had fun, Rielle was screaming)

Rielle hates heights but wants to overcome them

made a contract with azul that lost his voice for the first half of the school year before leona dusted it and he gained his voice back (<- i might change this)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst ocs #twst oc #twisted wonderland ocs #twisted wonderland oc #azul ashengrotto #prince rielle #twst rielle

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months

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Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

#writing for Ghost is like #trying to start an engine that was forgotten outside for the whole fucking winter ://

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bones4thecats · 2 months

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What Are They Like With A Rafiki! S/O?

Type of Writing: #7 - Poll Result Characters: Cater Diamond, Leona Kingscholar, and Lilia Vanrouge Name: What Are They Like With A Rafiki! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: My hands are currently dying! I'm making the special stuff for the 19th! Also, I will not be posting that much that day, since I'll be out of my home for the day to spend time with my family. Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💎 Cater first heard about you from Ace and Deuce, and he had to admit, you sounded quite entertaining

💎 You were noted by many to be quite nutty-sounding, as, whenever someone came to you for advice, you'd offer it in tounges. Words sewn together for the listener to figure out for themselves

💎 Even he'd have to admit, for someone who uses hashtags and quite a bit of social-media related lingoes in his sentences, your words were confusing!

💎 But, once he got past of all of that and he saw how tame you were with maintaining this 'Circle of Life', which he guessed you meant by how things chase others and whatnot, Cater grew to start admiring you

💎 The reason you used those metaphors to drive many insane was because it taught them to think and learn that wisdom is not something you can just grab, but it's something that one must learn, with difficulty, after all, as you say;

" Nothing is easy to obtain when it comes to wisdom. Wisdom is something that pushes and pulls on your struggles and weak spots like children playing tug-of-war in elementary school. "

💎 Cater loves to mess around with people, especially when you come into the mix and make them not only annoyed, but confused beyond belief

💎 It also makes him laugh when you play chess with your old friend, Leona. You're basically the only person that he knows that can beat him in the strategic game

💎 He also adores watching you draw things using some random items, such as fruits and flower's petals/colorings to make one colorful

💎 Your boyfriend loves posting stuff on his Magicam, and ever since he noticed how amazing you were with both magic and hand-to-hand combat, he would take videos of you training in Savanaclaw and post them with a classic Cater-style hashtag

" Oh, my lovely S/O is so talented with that bakora stick! " #caycay'sdarlings/o #caycay'ss/otraining #caycay'saveragedaywiths/o

🦁 Leona and you grew up together

🦁 While his ego blocked him from doing so, deep down in his heart, he admired how talented you were with magic and your words

🦁 He also found it entertaining watching you speak with your words twisted around to confuse everyone, including his older brother, Falena, and his wife

🦁 Leona first became interested in you when you began to study the darker-parts of magic, the stuff that your family and ancestor had banned from being learned in your home

🦁 Due to your flaw in 'rule-remembering', you were transferred into Night Raven College, just after your first years at Royal Sword Academy and NRC respectively

🦁 People from all different dorms could tell there was some tension between the Savanaclaw housewarden and the vice-housewarden, and Ruggie used this to his advantage a lot

🦁 Or, he attempted too...

🦁 The two of you are very strong apart, but when you come together against something, those you have seen you fight know that that person better just hand in the towel, unless they want to get their asses handed to them

🦁 Leona loves watching you use your wisdom to your advantage, teaching your under-classman about the value of knowledge and acceptance of all types of magic

🦁 He also adores watching you train with a new member of Savanaclaw each year, using your mandrill-beastman abilities to leap into the trees to hide and plan you next attack or use your bakora stick to whoop them into place

🦁 By the way, he plays chess with you whenever he maintains energy, and he gets very grumpy when you win. And by that, I mean he doesn't let you get up from your napping-sessions for two hours

🦇 You were the mentor of the Kingscholar brothers, so, when you walked up to their group of four Night Raven College students when visiting the beastman's homeland for the Tamashina-Mina Event, he gained an extreme interest in you

🦇 He noticed that Leona was appearing annoyed, but in his eyes he held a glint of adoration and joy at seeing you so joyous at meeting his so-called 'friends'

🦇 When he asked Leona about you after you left, he learned everything

🦇 You and your friend Kifaji were the maintainers of their home and helped raise the boys whenever their parents were busy with their royal duties, and you had been the main caretaker of the younger of the boys

🦇 From teaching him about magic styles to the many ways to fight hand-to-hand, you were the person who Leona was closest to, and Lilia had to admit, he was smitten by your personality from the start

🦇 Despite your age, you were a very well-versed person. You were fairly eccentric and happy-go-lucky, and the way you spoke made everyone who heard you confused

🦇 All except Lilia, who understood exactly what you were saying

🦇 Lilia and you quickly bonded and began spending a lot of time together, and when he went to perform his part of the event, you gave him a big thumbs up, showing your support full-on

🦇 Leona wasn't very happy to see his only parental figure being close to such a 'fae-dickhead', but, he had to admit, seeing you so happy and carefree with the guy made him feel slightly good

🦇 Before he had left to go back to his adoptive son(s), he gave you his number, winking at you and slyly telling you to message him sometime

🦇 He has never felt thing young in years!

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prettymrswright · 9 months

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private project

pairing: shuri x black!fem!scientist reader

content: fluff, smut!(18+), m@sturb@ting, s3x!toy, oral (both receiving), strap, f!ngering, crying, begging, dirty talking, slight humiliation, praising, pillow!princess/bratty reader, soft-dom!shuri, reader is a shy, timid, obedient, madly in love, (DOWN BAD), pillow princess, shuri is an oblivious brainiac.

background: for the couple years you had been working for the scientist, you’ve been crazy about her. you were such a shy and nervous wreck, that you didn’t know what to do about it. in all your desire, you decide to make a personal ‘project’ in the very lab you were taught everything you know, by her. although you intended for it to be forever a secret, it didn’t quite pan out that way. an: wheeeew, baby!! i thought about this this morning, half sleep, and ideas was just flowing, idk why my whore brain was on this morning but let's just roll with it! as usual, i hope this satisfied y'all lul slutty hearts & taglist sign up pinned to my page! @dejaonline @inmyheadimobsessed @vampzxi @venusdraco @shuriszn @shurislover @vixentheplanet @pinkwright @saintwrld @abenomeiiii @ventingfanfics @msplayas @naomis-daydream @sapphicvqmpires @tishsrealwife @6-noir @pocketsizedpanther ꨄ︎

2 years. You had officially been working for the Royal Udaku family for 2 years, and never would it get old for you. Since you were a young girl, you dreamt of making powerful creations and using them to change the world around you for the greater good. It was no doubt, you had a burning passion for science, not to mention, you were damn good at it. But you also had to admit, it felt good to be in a space among other legends, utilizing those skills right next to them. Especially Shuri. Shuri Udaku was a sight to see; in more ways than one. She had such an astute-being of a brain, and beautiful heart to match. She could arrive at any and every solution for every situation and apply it with ease. And although she may think she's such a tough-guy, she had the most caring heart. She treated all of her team as family, just as she would her mom or her brother. You were always taken care of. And as one side of you was admiring under terms of wanting to uphold such a stellar stature yourself, the other one was admiring in desperate need to be desired by someone of that same stature. No one got Shuri how you did. There was nothing she could hide from you. Your burning desire for her and her love and affection made the most meniscal details unavoidable. She hated that you could read her that way. But you cared so deeply for her. All you wanted was for her to be happy. And for her to be happy, with you.

Out of all the ways you could read her, romantic aspects were a code you just could not crack. You weren't even sure what she was into, or better yet, who. She was so buried in work and royalty duties, any emotional cards she had were held very close to her chest.

Each day that went by, watching her work sun up to sun down in her lab, you yearned to know how her hand would feel intertwined with yours. How her lips would feel, leaving deep, soft kisses on your lips, on your neck, down your chest. How her fingers would slowly trace across your hips, the circumference between the inside of your thighs, and eventually plunge deep inside your canal, pumping your g-spot until y-- "Y/N." Shuri called out to you, breaking you out of your fantasy of a trance. You quickly jumped up, straightening yourself out, and lifting your chin from your palm, where it previously rested. "Yes, princess?" You responded, eagerly awaiting whatever she had to ask or tell. "Have you made any progress on finishing Project-3280?" She walked up to you, looking down at the paper work she had in her hand, before looking up, scanning your facial expression for an answer. "Yes, princess." You answered proudly, curing her wonder. She lowly chuckled aloud, causing you to furrow your eyebrows, curious as to what about what you said was amusing. "Do you say anything other than 'Yes, princess'?" Your lashes fluttered as you scanned for the words to say, ultimately standing blankly, no words of response to be found.

"I told you, you work with me, not for me. You can speak regularly with me." She says in sincerity, holding the eye-contact, once again making your knees buckle at her commanding nature. "Yes, Pri--" You began before catching yourself in the very correction you were just given. Shuri raised her eyebrows, catching you as well, non-verbally. "I-I mean, okay, Shuri, yea. Got it." She chuckled again once more to herself before we walking off the clean the board she had previously been doing all her calculations on. You sat back on the high chair that stood behind the lab table you were at, scanning her from afar. Your eyes followed her slim frame from bottom-to-top, tracing the tattoo that resided up the side of her neck, to her sharp jaw, and her side profile. You bleakly counted the strands of hair on her head from the undercut, all the way to the curly top. You watched her slim, veined hands as they traveled quickly across the board in a wax-on, wax-off motion. You took note of how firmly they gripped the cloth right in their middle. You couldn't help but to trail your thoughts off into those hands gripping you that way. "Oh, fuck," You breathe out in a whisper, crossing your legs and nibbling at the end of your grey BIC pen. You continued to squirm in your seat as you watched sweat drip down the back of her neck, disappearing into the cloth of her lab coat. "Is it hot in here, to you, Y/N?" She asked, looking back at you. You shrugged your shoulders, quickly flicking your hands up at your side in a fake 'unsure' motion. It was definitely hot in there, but that was purposeful on your part. You had turned off the AC, knowing you'd be in here alone with her. It was just so captivating seeing her move and work so diligently that she would perspire and drip everywhere. You’d love to see those droplets falling from the hard work of another activity, with your assistance of course.

She wiped her forehead dry before pulling up her sleeves and walking back over to you. She was always finding ways to show and expose her hands and her arms. Almost like she knew those very things turned you on. You yourself would like to show her something.

“Okay, I’m ready. Show me what you got,” she rubs her hands together, in eagerness and excitement.

You almost choked on the saliva resting on the back of your tongue.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, taken aback by her statement, not sure if you heard what you thought you did.

“The project,” She pointed down towards the file folders you had right in front of you.

“Oh,” You reply, feeling silly for thinking she was referring to anything else.

You hand her the files, and she flips through them, carefully and attentively reading through each diagram.

You could feel your violently pulsating heart drop into your stomach and join the band of disruption that was previously keeping a concert in there. You had worked fairly hard on this project, and you wanted it to be perfect. More than anything you wanted her to approve. Your nerves began to worsen as you couldn’t pinpoint a reaction of satisfaction nor disapproval.

After what felt like an eternity of silence and confusion, Shuri finally rested the papers on the table and looked at you, a smile slowly creeping onto her face.

“I have to say, I am very impressed, Miss Y/N.” The band of disruption in your stomach finally dismembered, and was replaced with a symphony of butterflies. “Your technique is flawless. It must’ve took you ages to decode this.”

You tried to conceal your proud smile and your flushed cheeks, and failed terribly.

“Only took me 3 days.”

Shuri eyes widened, in an even more impressed state. “You’re joking, surely. It took me 3 weeks during my junior program! Let me find out you’re trying to replace me.” She teased, nudging your shoulder, slightly pushing.

You bit down on your teeth, flexing your jaw, fighting the moan that almost escaped from the sudden contact.

“You could never be replaced, Princess.” You say, more directly that you would’ve liked to. Your faces were separated merely by a foot. The eye-contact between the two of you lingered, until broken by a gaze at your lips, given by Shuri. She glanced back up at your eyes before giving you a smile, sending you a wink, and getting up to finally make her exit out of the room.

Your rivers were flowing so potently, you could slip right out of your chair. She was always so reassuring. Attentive. Gentle. With every word and every action towards you. You wanted to believe she moved that way with you intentionally, simultaneously trying not succumb to injuries of your delusion. With that note, you decided to go back to your quarter and wash off the day. You'd been working exceptionally hard all week, especially today, being that you woke particularly early to put your last finishes touches on the project. It didn't need anymore altering, honestly, but the pressures of wanting to impress the Princess had definitely took over. As you approach your room, you place your palm on the panel beside your door, allowing it to scan your prints for access. You waste no time kicking off your shoes and peeling your clothes off your body, stockings, lab coat and all, letting it drop to the ground and immediately heading to the bathroom to start a hot shower.

ꨄ︎

You lay your towel across you bed and lay on it, not yet ready to have your freedom restricted by fabric. As you lay, you smile to yourself, overcome with gratitude that Shuri approved of your work. To tell the truth, the only reason you completed the project so fast was so that you could get back to your own. A personal project. You felt sort of guilty using the labs specific resources to make such a perverted creation, but you were dying to know how it felt. How it could feel. How she felt. Invading your walls, breaking them down & making you beg for her to repair them, just to break them down again.

As those feelings that were all too familiar began to rise, you decided to put its effectiveness to the test. You reach over to the dresser drawer beside you & open it, pulling out the gadget.

It was a 256T information-stored sex-toy. It may have looked like a regular, fancy-designed vibrating dildo, but stored inside was recollection of every memory of every encounter the two of you shared. The first glance, the first conversation, every accidental bump, nudge, & shoulder brush. Every piece of eye-contact delivered, every advised direction given.

Nervous, yet excited, you let out a hefty breath, shut your eyes, and held the tool up to your pair of lips, which were currently aching at the hands of desire. One click, and off it was set. Soon as the device made contact with your skin, off into imaginal bliss you went.

“Mm,” You moaned at the sensation. It started off as a soft, comforting vibration, and as the memories built, so did the intensity.

“Exceptional work. Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you so much, Princess. I’m beyond grateful.”

“Please, call me Shuri. What should I call you?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She smiled. Oh god, that smile. “A name fit for a scientist.”

“Oh, fuck,” Your chest began to heave up and down, as you chased the breath escaping from your lungs and out of your mouth.

“Alright team, let’s get a hold on these mission plans.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just corner the sucker and blow him up with one of those kick-ass Wakandan canons.” A red head boy with circular specs blurted out.

“Would anybody like to tell me why that wouldn’t work?”

“He’d move so fast he’d dodge the blow?” Another scientist blurts out. Shuri closes her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval of the answer.

“He’s the under lord of the sea. He’d drown the surface area and blow out the canon circuit b-before it could even charge up.” You say semi-confidently.

Shuri’s eyes shoot up open and dart in your direction. “Bingo.” she says with a smile. “You’ve been paying attention. Good girl.”

“Ugh, yes!” You cry out. “I’m your good girl.”

Puzzled, frazzled & slightly confused, you stumbled in Shuri’s office, desperately in need of her guidance. You knock and the door slides open.

“Shuri?” You walk in, taking in the scenery, forgetting how beautiful her office really was. You take a minute to scan the ceilings, the walls, all of its intricate design. She had great taste. Walking backwards, you trip over the rug that ran from underneath her desk.

“Oh—!” You began to fall backwards, when your fall is stopped and barricaded by a pair of strong but steady hands, clamped around your waist.

“You’re good, I got you, I got you,” Soft, affirming words entered your ear canal in a slight whisper, coming from a velvety voice you oh-so-loved. It was quickly followed by a low chuckle that sent a riveting chill down your spine.

“Do you always walk backwards and not look where you're going?”

“Oh, Shuri,” your voice began to carry louder and farther. You couldn’t be more grateful for these sound-proof walls, because you were about to let it all go.

Your body began to vibrate under the pressure, and your juices began to coat around the circumference of the tool.

When you realized you stumbled into her arms, you began to get flustered, stealing a response from both your lips and your brain.

“I’m just messing with you. But what’s up, you okay?”

“I just— I”

“What is it, Y/N, what do you need from me? Let me help you.”

“Fuckkk, Shuri, just fuck me already, please!” You desperately buck yourself up against the toy, in attempts to fully immerse into your fantasy world. Your eyes began to flutter right to the back of your eyelids as one of your hands violently gripped the sheets beneath you. This is the closest you've ever gotten to feeling her and if you weren't so overcome by bliss right now, you'd be hella impressed at its successful function. On other side, a lengthy pair of footsteps paced by your door, alarmed, yet intrigued by the sounds emerging from your room. Shuri had been passing your floor, on her way back to her office, when the sound of your voice in what sounded like pleas stopped her in her tracks. She leaned her ear up against your door, making sure she didn't hear what she thought she was hearing. "You feel so good inside me, Shuri, fuck." Her body immediately heated up at the melodic sounds of your moans, but her heart dropped to the ground when she heard her own name attached to those lewd things you were saying. "Y-Y/N?" Your name fell faint from her lips as she tried to circle in on her own confusion. "Fuck, I'm cumming for you, Princess." You began to make a sloppy, slippery mess as you pumped the toy inside of you, sloshing around all your juices, pushing your orgasm way past your regular limits. "Fuck," Shuri sighed out a frustrated breath, mood switched from confused to turned on. Is this what you did in your free time? Is that what you really wanted? Losing the battle to her impulsive thoughts, she placed her palm on the dual-accessed panel and let herself in. She quietly leaned back on the wall, watching you from across the room, with intent. She watched your sexy frame fluidly squirm around in its place, riding out all its sensations. A smirk creeped across her face, compliments of her new feelings of arousal and her now enlarged ego. Her entrance was so silent, so swift, you continued your pleasuring without noticing the invasion. You sent yourself over the edge, imagining her tall, slim figure, hovering over you, working your body out, kissing across your jaw, whispering commands in your ear. Tell me it's mine. "It's yours, Shuri," Your eyes began to flood with tears, clouding your vision even with slightly cracked open eyelids. "It's all yours, baby." "You mean that?" You hear that familiar voice project itself from across the room, and somehow, even through all your deluded fantasy, you realized how real it sounded. Too real. You opened your eyes and were met with the pair of chocolate brown eyes you so often got lost in, but this time, they were shadowed with lust. You jumped so high, you could've jolted right out of your skin. "Shit!" You sat up, fighting to catch your breath, partially from all the work you had be exerting, partially from the jumpscare you had just encountered. "Shuri, what the fuck are you doing in here?" You grabbed your towel quickly from underneath your body and wrapped it around your naked figure. Her eyes widened, and she threw her hands up in defeat, shocked at your choice of words. She had never heard you speak so profanely. "Well, it kind of sounded like you wanted me in here just a second ago." She replied with her sarcasm and razor-sharp wit, slowly walking towards the edge of your bed, a hand behind her back. You nervously swallowed, fighting to coat your now dry throat, backing up further into your headboard. "I don't understand, H-how did you--" Shuri took her closed fist from behind her hand, lowering it and opening it, showing the kimoyo-bead you had left on the wall during your daily spy on Shuri's studies. Realizing what you had done, you were so embarrassed you could disintegrate right into the ground. "Your eavesdropping has failed you, today, Miss Y/N." In this moment, you wish you could disappear. Not only did you just get caught touching yourself aloud to the thought of your boss, you got caught eavesdropping as well.

How could you slip like this? I mean, after all, you had your secret admiration games down to a science, no pun intended. It was only one thing left to do.

“I-I’m so sorry. I had no intent of disrespecting you or your home like this. I’ll be out of here by dawn.” Each word you uttered cut through you like glass. The pain of having to resign from your dream job & possibly tainting whatever upstanding image the love of your life had of you all because you couldn’t control your sexual urges was enough to crush you.

Before you could lift up to collect your belongings, The Princess held a hand out to stop you.

“Nonsense.” She rises to her feet, staring down at you with a glare you can’t recall seeing before. It was demanding, but not condescending. It was almost, dare you say, an eagerness. "I just wish you would've told me sooner." She says, all seriousness in her tone of voice. "We could've solved this a long time ago." You could hear your heartbeat thumping, directly through your eardrum. The subtle implication spun your mind in every which direction. You didn't want to assume, but if she meant what you thought she did, this would change everything as you knew it. "What are you saying?" You decided to play dumb. You knew what she was getting it, you just needed to hear her say it. "I'm saying," She pulled you by your hips, down to the edge of the bed, causing you to gasp from sudden movement, and hovered over you, grounding both hands at each of your sides. "If you needed some loving from the Princess, I would've happily obliged." As turned on as you were, you couldn't hide the look of shock on your face. You had to be dreaming. "Don't act surprised. I'm like a baby around you. I can't even focus when you're around." You melted underneath her at her confession. All these burning desires and you could've had it with little to no effort. Silently you were cursing your shy and awkward nature. "Bullshit." Your shocked expression grew into a flirtatious smile. You were beaming inside, but you couldn't help to tug a little more. Shuri lowered herself to your lips and crashed into them with her own. Her tongue swiped across your lip asking for permission of entrance, and you accepted. You placed your hands and the sides of her jaw, deepening the passionate kiss between you two. You both moaned in each other's mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity. The heat between your bodies began to generate just like a furnace. You've never felt so much passionate energy before this very moment in your life. After what felt like minutes she finally pulled back from you. "I can give you exactly what you need." She said, staring directly in your eyes, careful not to leave any room for doubt. "But you gotta ask me." You could crawl into a ball and disappear. You were too much of a nervous wreck for this. Ask her? Were your cries and pleas heard from the other side of the door not enough? Truth be told, you wanted her so bad, you were wiling to do anything. You were so stuck in awe, it would take a minute for you to even be able to register the moment. "Come on, baby." She cooed, attempting to coax you out of your silence. "You were so vocal before. I know you know how to use that pretty mouth." You shivered at her forwardness and a moan involuntarily slipped out of your mouth, once again stroking her ego. "Shuri, please," You whined, making an attempt of getting out of the humiliation. "Please?" She mockingly raised her eyebrows, waiting for you to cave. "Please, fuck me. I need it, I need you." You managed to spill out. It was no turning back now. A warm yet sinister smile graced the royal's face. "Now, was that so hard?" She came up from over you, pulling you up with a firm but gentle squeeze around your throat. She pecked your lips a few times more before releasing her grip. "I'll do you one better." Curious to what she was referring to, you could feel the blood rushing through your veins. This was so unpredictable, she was so unpredictable. But it excited you. She took off her coat and her shirt, only being left in a crisp, white tank, bra-less. Though you wouldn't expect that from her, you weren't complaining. The more she revealed, the more beautiful she became. You could see the definition in her figure. You decide to help her undress, unbuckling her slacks and peeling them down to her knees. You reach for her boxers and she pops your hand. "Someone's a little excited, then?" It was so much teasing being given by her, and as much as it pissed you off, secretly it fueled your fire. She hopped up off the bed, slipping out her pants fully before hoisting you up by your lower back, sitting you on her hips.

You wrap your arms around her neck and tighten the grip of your legs around her waist.

She walks you over to the long, metal table you do all your procedures on, currently covered by a tablecloth and all your tubes & tools.

“You’re done with this. Right?” She takes the cloth and roughly yanks it off the table, knocking everything over, even breaking some things.

“Shuri! What the hell!” You nudge her shoulder in complete shock.

“I’ll replace it, don’t worry.” She lowers the table and lowers you down on your back, gently, making you arch and hiss from the contact of the cold metal.

She then begans leaving soft sensual kisses behind your ear, down to your neck and across your chest, while massaging your outer thigh.

You exhaled in attempt to relax, feeling like you were floating from the touch you so badly craved from her. It was like taking a hit of your first drug. Every touch left you feeling waves of intoxication. And there was no sobering up.

“Is this okay?” She asked looking up you for reassurance.

Through glossy eyes and a bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you nodded.

She continued her trail of kisses, traveling lower and lower, until eventually she made it to your promised land.

“Well, how pretty is she?” She asked rhetorically, gliding her two fingers across your clit, purposefully making a connecting line from your heat to her lips.

“Mm,” She moaned. “And tastes as good as she looks.”

Now impatient, you hooked your ankle over her shoulder and pulled her closer to you, leaving her centimeters from your dripping sex.

“Stop fuckin’ around, Shuri.”

“Oh?” She pretends to be taken aback. “I don’t know if I like your attitude. You waited 2 years, you could wait 2 more minutes, can’t you baby?”

She spread your lips open, exposing your pulsing and fully erect hood. Harshly, she spat on it, watching it drip down between your folds.

“Shhhit,” You moan out, dually in pleasure and in agony of this push and pull game. “No, no I can’t, please.”

“Plea—“ She began to mock you again and you interrupted before she could even continue. You no longer wanted to repeat yourself, so you give in.

“Please, just put your mouth on it, please, I’m fucking dripping,” Exclamation and grit all throughout your voice. Without hesitation she attaches her lips to your aching middle, and deeply french kisses it.

“Yes!” You cry out, grabbing onto the sides of the table for some sort of control. “Just like that.”

Moaning from your flavors, she hums, sending vibrations all through you. She alternates between soft and rough sucks, using your button as a pacifier. Her tongue spoke all 5 languages of love, making every reaction you give and sound you make a translator.

“Fuck, baby, you do it so well,” You were spitting out endless praise, overwhelmed by the pleasure you were feeling.

Pleased by your praise, she locks your thighs in place with her forearms, and flatten her tongues against you & rocks it up and down your center. You could feel every warm sensation, every round tastebud wrapping you up into a blissful embrace.

You lean up on your forearms and watch her every move with a dropped jaw and a set of furrowed brows, in dire need of catching this moment. You had the most beautiful, astounding, most talented girl giving you intense pleasure that she herself had be thinking of doing.

You felt your stomach begin to form knots, a clear indicator of the rise of your climax.

“Shuri I’m about to..to” You could barely get the words out, but even still, she wasn’t ready for you to just yet.

“Mm, mm.” She refused, coming up quickly. “Not yet.”

Before you knew it, she had pushed two fingers deep inside you, immediately reattaching her lips to you. With a steady rhythm she pumped in and out of you while attacking your clit with her tongue. She hungrily stared into your eyes until yours decided to make a detour into the back of your head.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Tears began forming again. “I can’t!”

You grabbed a handful of her curls and tugged them backwards, and instead of it holding her back, her grip became even stronger. She quickly replaced her fingers with her tongue and began fucking you with it, gripping your hips and knocking you into her. Your warm, soft juices coated the entire circumference of her mouth and then some.

You couldn’t control your moans nor the volume of them as you blurted out broken whimpers and your body began to shake. You released into her mouth and with one last peck, she thanked you.

“You did so good for me, Angel.” With enamored eyes you grab her by her neck, roughly kissing her and cleaning yourself from off her lips and her face.

“Come here,” To her command, you move over to her as she straps up. She picks you back up, making you airborne once more, and holds you up by your cheeks before sliding her length into you.

“Fuck!” Immediately you fall weak, legs giving out as soon as your walls were accompanied.

“It’s okay baby, you’re okay. Hold onto me,” She instructed you and you wrapped your arms around her neck with no sign of letting go.

Her slim, & veiny hands lifted you up and slid you back into her, primarily slow and steady. Each pump given to you was at a pace faster than the last. She was buried so deep inside you, your vaginal walls began to twitch, and the way she had you restricted, there was no way to run. She drilled inside you as you screamed bloody mary, sacral glands squirting out from underneath you.

“This is what you wanted, hm?” She taunted you between huffs and pants. “For me to fuck you like the slut you are?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes,” The way she was turning you inside out had absolutely nothing on what you had seen in all of your dreams. She was fucking you silly. You were starting to believe the desire wasn’t one-sided.

Reaching your limit, your medium french-set buried themselves into the skin of her back, sure to be leaving what would be a few scratches and welts in the AM.

You mustered up the strength to pull yourself to her, staring into her eyes, still moaning and singing her praises. You wanted her to know how good she was making you feel. And possibly how much you loved her, if she read deep enough.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Y/N,” She compliments, as she watches every face you make.

Grunting and groaning, her thrusts became sloppy, leading you to believe she was almost at her finish line. Before she could, she lifted you up off of her dick and placed your feet back onto the ground. You were entirely too weak to stand, but you’d quickly find out, you standing weren’t in her plans anyway.

With one quick motion, she turns you around and pushes you down back into the table.

You gasp heavily, the cold metal now being met with your hard and sensitive nipples. She holds her tip up against your entrance and rubs in between, subtly dipping in and coming back out every few rubs.

“So,” She leans down to your ear. “You like eavesdropping, do you?”

Your face gets hot from humiliation. You thought you were past this.

“I— I don’t.. I didn’t mean to—,” You try to plead your case but you were a stammering mess.

“Well,” She picks a kimoyo-bead off her bracelet and slams it down onto the wall. “Let’s see how much the others do as well.”

“Shuri, please,” You plead for her to change her mind.

“Aht, aht.” She hushes you. “Save it for the audience, baby.”

You felt your entire body heat up, so rattled by every emotion, in dire shock of what was actually happening rat the moment.

“Fuck you, Shuri.” You spat, so consumed by humiliation, you weren’t considering your possible consequences.

A cold silence runs after your statement and you could feel the switch in energy. She smooths your hair up in a ponytail with one hand and pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at her.

“Gladly.”

Shuri forced herself up into you, still craning your neck to look at her.

“Shit! Wait!” You immediately regret your actions.

Not letting you plead your case, she continued to eagerly rock herself into you, making your ass cheeks ricochet off her hips, creating violent smacking noises.

“Ohhhh, unh!” Your moans began to amplify the more you fought to conceal them. The hold she had you in was making your hovered nipple tips graze across the cool surface, sending you further into overstim.

“That’s it, baby,” Her sweet, soft lips sing your praises. “Let me hear you.”

You were whimpering and pleading in a blabbering mess, it was pathetic to say the least. But she looked so good, she felt so good.

“Tell everybody how good you feel. Tell them who’s making you feel this way.”

These sentences turned a switch on in you that was completely irreversible. Good. Everybody does need to hear. All those snickering, hair twirling, low life bitches, finding any reason to flaunt their bosom in her office. Any reason to touch her, any reason to bombard her with irrelevant questions.

They gave you looks whenever you were with her, they whispered wishes of your demise. With this realization, you completely surrendered to whatever outcome you would be given.

“Fuck, Shuri, you feel s-so good inside me,” You confessed. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Every few strokes she sent a stinging smack up your backside, making you yelp. She reached one hand down over your clit and begin making medium-paced circular motions, while still ramming inside of you.

“Shuriiii,” You stretched her name out as far as she had your lips stretched. “Yes!”

“My name sounds so much better off your lips.” She confessed.

You begged harder, deeper. She obliged your every wish. As you sobbed out overcome with emotion, she leaned down further kissing your sobbing lips. Even in sex, in her roughness, she was gentle.

What seemed like an ever-flowing stream of your release began dropping down both of your shaky, achy legs.

The royal moaned at the sight of you, literally pouring out for her. A few more strokes before she arrived at her own release and she was out of you and kneeling underneath you. She licked you clean, with a wide and flat tongue, from your ankles up to your center, going back in with sweet, passionate swirls and flicks of the tongue on your clit.

The sensation was so sweet and full of care that although you were crying from pleasure, you were also crying from the overwhelming emotions you were feeling.

She made you feel on top of the world. You wanted to make her feel like that.

She stood up and turned you around to face her. She placed a palm on your cheek, thumb rubbing it, admiring your fucked out facial expression and the adoration in your eyes.

You pulled her into you, smashing your lips into hers, dying to feel the safety of them again, and tasted yourself off her lips.

“See how good you taste, nkozsana?” She asked, piercing you with her eye contact and sending chills down your spine with her native tongue.

“I want to taste you.” You blurt out, desperately.

“There’s no need. I just wanna make you feel good.” She replied.

“That would make me feel so good.” You slur your words with full intent of seducing.

You rub your palms across her shoulders and down her chest, lifting the tank once you get to the bottom of her torso. You kiss all down her now exposed skin, kissing around her chest, down her rib cage, down her navel.

“Please, baby?” you looked up at her from your new kneeled position. You felt her shiver between your hands.

She looked down at you and almost melted where she stood. She had such a soft spot for you. She nervously swallowed before caving in and nodding her head, yes.

You smirked to yourself before standing up and taking her hand, leading her to the bed and lightly pushing her back. You instructed her to move back to the middle of the bed and you crawled up to her.

Your acrylic nails aided in the separation of the skin of her waist and the rim of her boxers. You tugged them off her hips and slide them the rest of the way off her legs.

You took a moment, admiring her beauty. For the first time, you saw Shuri Udaku get flustered. Her ‘too cool for school’ nature seemed to take a leave of absence.

Without breaking eye contact, you lowered yourself to her lower stomach, leaving kisses across it. Seeing her squirm under the delicacy of your touch avenged your yearning soul.

You traveled further and further down til you were hovering over her enterprise. From your view, you could see every sticky droplet of sweat, every hair follicle, every sacred part of her being. She sat up on her forearms, watching your every move, tank still folded and breasts still exposed.

You spread her open further with one hand, pinning it in its place and you began your endeavors. Your tongue slowly but efficiently exploring all of her surface area, nothing going untouched. You paid extra attention to her bud, gently sucking and flicking, switching up your speeds.

“Bast—“ Shuri breathed out, in awe of your talent. She reached down to push you off, and before she could you interlocked your fingers with hers and pinned both of your hands to her chest.

“Y/N,” She began to cry out your name, not knowing it was only your ammunition to continue. With feverish pleasure, you spelled your name in cursive across her sensitivity, mentally claiming her to be yours. You wanted this forever. You wanted her forever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, nkoszana,” Her chest heaved up and down, legs beginning to shake. She had never experienced a sexual favor done so passionately, it began to overwhelm her.

You rubbed the sides of her thighs, non-verbally encouraging her to ride it out, while you continued attacking her clit, moaning to send consecutive vibrations into her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she bucked her hips up, sending herself further into your trap.

Gasping for air, she lets go into you and you clean her up with pride.

As you came back up, she looked at you, astoundingly, in disbelief of what she, 1, allowed you to do to her, and 2 how good you were at it. You smiled nervously, not being able to conceal your chuckle.

“Come here,” She grabbed your arm and tugged you, making you fall directly on top of her. You giggled at her assertiveness.

“Yes?” You ask still smiling down at her.

She pulls you down to her lips, kissing you with the intention of making you feel her gratitude.

“Thank you.” She speaks onto your lips.

You look up at the alarm clock resting on your nightstand, and she positions her neck backwards from underneath you, following your eyes.

“It’s 5 AM.” You start.

“Shit. I gotta go back to my office and set up for the rest of the day.” She says hurriedly, beginning to lift up.

“Can’t you just stay for a little while longer?” You ask her sweetly, purposely putting on the voice that you now know is her weakness.

“Don’t do that to me,” She says fighting off her urges. “I wish I could, but I have a nation to lead.”

“Even Princess’s take vacations, you know,” You reply in a jokey tone.

“Do they?” She chuckled. “I’ll have to invest in one another time.”

Defeated, you began to pout. She lifts up and kisses your lips.

“Put your lips back where they were,” She laughs, teasing you.

You lift up off of her and help her up before she gathers her clothes and puts them back on. The two of you walk back to the door, and she turns around to face you, leaning against it.

“How about I come back tonight?” Shuri asked, holding your hands.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Princess. I’m a very busy girl.” You tease her.

“Oh, are you?” She chuckles, eyes quickly scanning all of the broken glass materials that lay just a few feet from you both.

You roll your eyes at her sarcasm. “Very funny.”

“You can come back whenever you want.”

“Mm.” She hums. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Well what if you can’t come back tonight? I thought tonight was your presentation night with the board?” You ask, semi in panic. You really needed to see her again.

“Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry, nkoszana.” Her eyes paced around, in thought, as if she was searching for a solution.

“Well, you could always come to my office. There’s always some work for you to do.” She says with a slick tone in her voice. “Actually, you have some paperwork you haven’t finished that’s past it’s deadline.”

You smiled brightly at her insinuation, knowing very clearly where this was going. “Oh, no, how could I let that happen?”

She shook her head and gave a tsk, tsk, tsk, in her cosplay of disappointment. “I don’t know, but i’m not very pleased with you, Miss Y/N. You will have to make that up to me.”

“Tell me how to fix it,” You say lowly, your arousal slowly building back up.

“Be at my office at 4pm, sharp.” She lifts your chin and lowers herself down to your ear. “And don’t be late. Or that’s an extra penalty.”

She returned back to her above eye level position before kissing your lips once more.

“Yes, Princess,” You promised, impatiently waiting for this day to speed up.

She grabbed the kimoyo bead from off the wall and placed it in her lab coat pocket.

“You give a great performance.” She winked at you before sliding the door open and slipping out, disappearing into the rest of her day.

Smiling from ear to ear, you turn around, and you’re met with the mess that was made earlier, bringing you down from your high.

You quickly open the door and yell down the hall.

“Hey! Come clean up this mess!”

#shuri black panther #shuri x black!reader #black wlw #shuri x you #shuri smut #shuri x y/n #black sapphic #prettymrswright hot ficpic

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silkkorchid · 25 days

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What went down in TWST rp in a week-

Covers 3/30 - 4/5

This week was ok ish…

NRC therapist and Gardening club seems to be planning something against Mrs. Rosehearts…

NRC Newspaper club has a new member called, Atlas, seeming to be an unofficial prophet for NRC, thanks to his Unique Magic.

There is a Dance Club at NRC now-

One of the hosts and the host club seem to have a questionable draft that was soon posted by another host. I’m looking at you 🪞⚜️.

NRC Host Club has now a menu of food, with the one of them being uhm a very clever name for it!

NRC cooking club made a disgusting salad that I cannot describe…

NRC allows students to have tazer if worn correctly…

Another race is happening between Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College. And there is a poll which school is going to win, some students at NRC are rigging the poll.

Both of RSA and NRC Cleaning club have log entries.

Che’nya is at it with the invisible boop towards the boys.

Some of the boys’ future children are throwing powder ball at them, for no apparent reasons???

The Diasomnia gossip account seems to be telling all the juicy stuff that happens in Diasomnia- wait does Malleus even know this exists?

Someone said Sebek is just… I can’t say it as I’m gonna puke…

A boop war has commenced between us who will get the most boops.

A boop battle between Ruggie and Silver. Silver surrender with Ruggie being the winner .

A student of Diasomnia ate a whole pathway since they were hungry. The person that did this, u know.

Malleus and Althea is having a boop match across campus. Then lasers were incorporated into this match of theirs.? After all that happens, Althea and Malleus end their boop match with ice cream.

Althea trying kidnap Gidel, NO TOUCHING THE CHILD ALTHEA!

General Lilia came back from the dead.

Lilia destroyed the microwave again, wait is that smoke coming from Diasomnia?

Lilia got into Ramshackle’s kitchen and yeeeee….

Riddle realized his mother now got a Tumblr account-

Ace got food poisoning, and Riddle ban him from the kitchen till he gets his credit for the mandatory cooking class.

Mrs. Rosehearts has came back after 4 days. Someone gotta hold onto me before I jump her.

Seems like fans of Riddle are pushing their buttons with Mrs. Rosehearts, and I’m proud seeing them being straight forward on causing chaos.

Ace destroyed a microwave. No questions ask.

Ace got collared for the millionth time.

Ruggie’s future child SOMEHOW broke through a wall!? H-how does that logic work!?

Someone cast a spell onto ruggie in which made him wear bunny ears and a tail.

Leona is trying to pass his responsibility onto Ruggie.

Azul has now met his future child after idk how long.

@quartztwst made Azul bald.

Jamil trying to prevent Alcestris dating Najima, his sister. Meanwhile Althea cheering Alce on…

Epel came back after a beauty break to see the last update before shortly going offline.

Idia arguing which anime he and his future children will watch.

Idia allowing his future children to commit arson…. Ortho please stop him being a bad influence to his own future children…

Idia loosing his shit when the topic of Sonic came up.

Idia lost something very important for his magic pen.

Someone reminded Idia that he accidentally left Ortho’s filter off and you know the story.

The boys’ future children somehow got gender-bend due to a potion.?

The children tried monopoly and it turn into a full on war.

One of Sam’s friends can speak that wired language that I can’t understand-

Cheka came back after a long nap.

Someone taught Cheka to swear-

Fellow and Gidel is at it again trying to find new puppets…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twistedwonderland #disney twst #🍮 speaking #diasomnia #riddle rosehearts #twst cheka #twst rp weekly update #twst rp

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

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Suggesting/Requesting Eddie having a crush on the valiant knight Steve Dustin goes on about, not realizing it's Steve "the Hair" Harrington and the way he reacts when he realizes they're the same dude. Cue adjustment period.

hi! first of all thank you for the prompt 🥰 i slipped and kinda decided to take your ‘valiant knight Steve’ quite literally and made this a medieval/regency au with knight steve and bard eddie, kinda enemies to lovers. it totally got out of hand, so this is part 1, with all my apologies to your original prompt 🤍🌷

Eddie smiles as the fields and forest that surround Hawkins come into view, kissed by the early afternoon sun with more affection and richness than the city probably deserves. It looks different this time of year, the green seems deeper than he left it, and nostalgia paints him a picture of glory and welcome that would make any traveller linger at the sight.

He knows it’s only the magic of coming home, the thrill of having been gone so long that he needs to learn his town a-new, and the curiosity of a poet that makes his heart beat faster; but it’s his life’s blood to embrace all of that. So he spurs on his trusty horse to make it home even just a minute sooner.

The people’s reactions to his arrival come in multitudes, though Eddie can respect the healthy dose of mistrust with which they regard him. He has made a name for himself after all, a bard more than a jester these days, but most people don’t tend to forget the pretty face they chased out of the city on multiple occasions.

He lifts his head in greeting as he passes the elderly Wheelers as they’re tending to the flowers lining their windows, and grins with glee at both the disapproving scoff and the wary nod he gets in return.

He’s in good spirits. Great spirits, in fact, the sun shining down on him, welcoming him and lighting familiar paths for him to tread again after years of absence. Hawkins will see his glory, his success, his victory, and it will pale in jealousy and regret. They cannot chase him away this time, not with the title of royal bard and winner of the bardic competition three years in a row.

If his travels have taught him anything, it’s that he is pettiness acts as a wonderful motivation.

Of course, he shall also see his friends again. One of his saddlebags is half full with their letters that have accumulated over the years, all of which Eddie has kept for reasons of muse and a heart entirely too soft for his own good.

Most of all, though, even more than proving his worth and success to his city and its people, it is curiosity that brings him home.

Dustin and his friends have been mentioning a most valiant knight, waxing poetic about his glorious deeds and his kinder heart — or, as poetic as they get, which is hardly at all. Which consequently made Eddie write no less than five ballads about the stories they told him, three of which have made it into songs yet, one of which he was made to play in every tavern on his long journey back to Hawkins and to Princess Nancy herself on more than one occasion.

The Knightmærs, as he calls his little collection of poeterey, his pride and joy about a man he has yet to meet. Tales about maidens saved and brothers defeated, hearts stolen and retrieved with the gentlest gestures, and children protected against the evils of night, expecting naught but friendship. And friendship he got.

If Eddie’s heart picks up yet another notch at the thought of meeting this knight as the familiar city walls tower before him, he allows it for a second before announcing himself to the guards. They looked wary upon his approach and blanch now as they hear his name; Eddie does not hide his laughter this time and preens as he is told to ride on.

“Oh, Hawkins, old friend,” he mutters under his breath, not even bothering to hide his smile. “You and I shall have so much fun, shan’t we?”

~*~

He barely makes it to the home he has been sharing with his uncle since the ripe age of twelve with minimal fuss, unsaddling his horse and guiding her to the trough, when he hears it.

“Eddie!”

Halting in his motions the currycomb, he looks up from the rusty brown that shines red like embers in the sun and spots Dustin racing down the street towards him.

He lowers the comb and steps around his horse, grinning at his rapidly approaching friend.

“Why, good day to you, young traveller, what brings you to my humble abode?”

Dustin doesn’t falter in his approach, doesn’t even slow down, and Eddie braces himself for impact. Years of experience have made him quite practiced in handling tackle-hugs, but Dustin has grown quite a bit since he last saw him, and they both stumble backwards when Dustin’s arms wrap around Eddie in a way that seems to press all air out of his lungs. Eddie laughs as he hugs his friend back with as much ferocity.

“I’ve missed you! I was writing to you this morning when I remembered you said you’d come this week. I didn’t think it would be today!”

“I came as soon as I could. Such is the Munson way, or did you forget?”

Dustin shakes his head and finally lets go, though Eddie yearns for another hug. It’s been too long. The boy has grown. He’s hardly a boy anymore, though he shall always remain as such in Eddie’s heart. He smiles and ruffles Dustin’s locks, realising with a pang that they’re almost of a height now.

An ache like homesickness settles in his gut and wears on his heart heavily.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, smoothing out the curls he’s put in disarray. “It’s just been too long. And I’ve missed you, too. You’ve grown quite a bit since last we talked.”

“I have!” And he looks so proud of it, too, preening a little under Eddie’s faux scrutiny, and it’s what makes him pull Dustin against his chest again.

Eddie continues taking care of his horse, feeding her, combing through her mane, making sure she has as much comfort as he can provide after their long days of travel. Dustin sits on the fence and watches him tend to her, feeding her the occasional apple when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking. He hides his smile and pretends not to see.

God, but he has missed his friend.

Their twosomeness is rudely and entirely too quickly interrupted by Lord Harrington of all people, who hurries down the street in search of Dustin.

Eddie never did like the lord and his pompous appearance coupled with his rude personality. He always acted like a prince among men, subject to many a jest in Eddie’s younger days. On one memorable occasion, Eddie managed to steal the lord’s clothes and swap them with his own, making him walk about in linen rags and torn-up trousers.

Days later, all of his lute strings ripped just as he was getting ready to play at the tavern, and he never messed with Harrington again — even though there was a parcel three days later with new lute strings and his old clothes he had made the lord wear. No note attached to it, because Lords didn’t stoop down to converse with lowly peasants even for revenge.

So, seeing Harrington now on the very first day of his being back, it sours Eddie’s face and his humour.

“Why, Lord Harrington,” he speaks before the man can get a word in. “To what do I owe the displeasure of seeing you here? Have you suffered a fall from grace yet, or was it a hit in the head that left you disoriented, bringing you to my humble abode?”

Harrington frowns at him, though Eddie deems to detect confusion more than distaste.

And then he has the audacity of not even answering to Eddie’s ruse, simply ignoring him and instead turning around to Dustin.

“Dustin, Master Clarke is expecting you. I will not cover for you once more.”

“But—“

“Spare me,” Harrington says, hands on his hips now, and Eddie is starting to feel defensive over Dustin. How dare his lordship come and steal his best friend away when he hasn’t even been home for an hour yet?

Before he can get so much as a word in, however, Dustin is already jumping from his perch on the fence and trudging towards Harrington, rounding the man and leading the way up the hill towards the castle.

“I’ll come back later, Eddie,” Dustin says over his shoulder, and then he is gone, rounded the corner, out of his sight.

Harrington, however, lingers. Eddie raises his eyebrows in question and challenge, and the Lord scoffs a little. It’s like he wants to say something — but what could it be? What could Lord Harrington have to say to him, years after they last saw each other?

He does look stunning, Eddie has to admit with a grudge against his self and his integrity. The golden light of the afternoon sun catches in his hair, likening it to strands of gold that kings and queens pay alchemists across the world to procure. Eddie, for a moment, feels like he has found it in Lord Harrington’s hair and the skin of his face, but he quickly snaps out of it, cutting off that particular train of thought before it can run away form him.

“I hear you are a bard of great renown these days.”

The words catch him off his guard, for Eddie was sure that the Lord would not attempt to converse. Yet it seems that propriety still has a tight grip on him.

Does Harrington like his ballads, his plays, his poetry and sonnets? Has he heard them? Or has he heard of them? Has word travelled across the countries, telling of Eddie the Bard and his brave-hearted muse his soul yearns for and his quill bleeds for?

Eddie is not sure which option thrills him more, but whichever one it is, it makes him smile, feeling quite bashful and yet proud.

“So you hear,” he says, approaching the stiff Lord. “What exactly is it that you hear, my Lord?”

He swallows, following Eddie’s steps with his eyes, turning his head when the bard circles him slowly. “I hear you sing of beasts slain and brothers banished, a knight at the heart of your ballads.” Eddie smiles at that, knowing that Harrington has at least heard of two of his Knightmærs. I hear it sounds like mockery, the knight but an object of your hyperbolic fascination and flowery imagination, his pain and bravery nothing to you.”

He stops dead in his tracks, his feet planted right before Harrington. The Lord looks like he is taking personal offence to his works, and it irritates the bard.

“And what, Lord Harrington, would you know of fascination, pain and bravery? I cannot imagine you have faced a lot of hardship in your life, and the only acts of bravery you had to chance upon were mislead in the name of false honour.”

“False honour,” Harrington repeats, his words like poison, sharp and dangerous as the sword’s blade at his hip. “You would know something about that, I imagine, telling stories of which you have no idea. Immortalising glory where there should be sympathy.”

Eddie studies him, the frown between his brows, the hard line of his jaw, set and calmed to keep more words from spilling. Imposing, this Lord is. A sight for sore eyes even in his purely misplaced anger.

Eddie huffs, his eyes travelling between the Lord’s where they are standing so impossibly close.

“Sympathy,” he repeats. “Nobody, my Lord, wants a ballad of sympathy. It is glory that the people seek!” He steps back from Harrington, gesturing with his arms as he dramatically recounts the lessons he has learned over the years, passionate for his craft. “Glory, heroism, heartbreak and love! Yearning and longing and deeds of an aching heart, that is what the people want to hear. That is what deserves to be immortalised in art, in poetry, in song! I shall forgive you for being so painfully unaware of this, my Lord, but I shall not stand to be in your company much longer, calling my work lacking or a mockery when it is borne out of nothing but loyalty, fascination and love.”

They are close again, because Harrington did not step back when Eddie approached him once more, his feet planted like a tree, fierce and strong and unbudging.

It is intoxicating, though Eddie blames half of it on the passion and the rage, on the bravery that possessed him to send the Lord away, or the fierceness with which he came to his muse’s defence.

Harrington swallows again, his eyes wandering over Eddie’s face once more, lingering at his lips, both their jaws set in determination and perhaps a sudden tension.

“Forgive me for insulting you with my company,” he speaks at last, his voice nothing but a rasp. “You will find there is an irony to your words soon. I shall not rob you of that discovery. I ask you do not take it out on our mutual friends when you do, Munson.”

And with one last glance, Harrington turns on his heel and hurries up the hill, too, leaving Eddie puzzled and quite dazed upon the lingering warmth of their close proximity.

When did Harrington become so handsome? There was a fire in his eyes that Eddie got to witness for just the blink of an eye, but he wonders where that comes from, what it means, and what other secrets he holds.

Perhaps, if he cannot meet his muse, the knight Dustin has only ever referred to as Steve, Harrington might serve to inspire a ballad or two himself.

~*~

Harrington catches his eyes on more than one occasion over the next days. Eddie is invited to the castle to play for Princess Chrissy, though she greets him like an old friend and makes him sit close to her at the banquet. Right beside Harrington, who merely nods at Eddie, his fists clenched as Chrissy asks the bard about one of his ballads — the one about the valiant knight slaying a horde of monsters to keep the kingdom’s children safe.

The Lord must really hate Eddie’s work. It fills him with spiteful glee, for some reason, and he makes sure to play and recite all of his Knightmærs that night. Harrington excuses himself when Eddie hasn’t even made it halfway through his songs, and he doesn’t return that night.

He takes personal offence now and vows to make the Lord’s life as difficult as he can.

But still there is no sign of Steve.

Eddie is starting to get frustrated.

He was supposed to be here, stand tall and proud with a smile on his face upon seeing Eddie, sweep him off his feet, make him swoon, dare Eddie to fall in love with the face long after the name.

His mood is sour, and only sours further when Harrington rounds the corner and stumbles upon Eddie who is tuning his lute for tonight’s banquet. The annual royal tournament is set for the next morning, so everyone is in a good mood.

Well, everyone except Eddie. And Lord Harrington, by the look on his face.

“Munson,” he says, straightening before he bows his head in greeting. “Forgive me, I was looking for some quiet. I shall look somewhere else.”

And, somehow, that is enough to snap his patience that was already wearing thin. “Why can you not stand being in my presence, sir?” he asks, rising from his seat. “Does it disgust you so to be around mere peasants?”

Harrington looks taken aback, shock and confusion clear on his face before a frown takes its place and washes away all further emotions.

“It is not your presence that bothers me, nor the nature of your birth.”

“And yet you leave every time I so much as strum a tune, Lord Harrington, ready to throw both caution and propriety to the winds. Leaving me to wonder what it is that I have done to deserve such treatment.”

Eddie finds himself walking closer and closer to the Lord, coming to a stop not one foot before him. He is drawn in by his presence, his charm as alluring as his cold silence. Everything about Lord Harrington intrigues him, horrified as he is to admit it. But with Steve not around to catch his eye and captivate his heart and mind alike, he simply has to find inspiration elsewhere.

And the way Harrington’s face is taken over by a dangerous expression is the most inspiring, alluring thing he has seen in a while, even though it is directed at him.

“How can you have the audacity to feign confusion over my disdain, bard,” he hisses, and Eddie shivers slightly. Harrington does not even have the sense to step back, staying right where he is, so close, so improper. “How can you pretend it is not my life you have taken and made your own, singing songs and telling stories, making into nothing but a jaunty tale recited by drunkards with no regard to the blood it was written in.”

Eddie blinks, not quite catching up with the point Harrington is making.

“What—“

“You sing your ballads, your histories, your Knightmærs like you know what they mean. Making a mockery of me, stealing from me every chance to tell my tale in my own voice, in my own tempo. Entire kingdoms will know before I will have had the chance to wake up from a nightmare, and they sing about it, sing about pain they did not have the misfortune to suffer, sing with a smile, with booming voices because you make them. And yet the only one without a voice remains the one who slew the beast.”

Lord Harrington speaks to him as though he takes offence at the content of Eddie’s ballads, offence at the reality of their background. But what right does he have to take offence when his songs are based on heroic deeds, recounted to him first hand by his very best friend. What right does Harrington have to question the truth behind them?

“If it is a matter of truth that concerns you, let me reassure you, my Lord, that all of my ballads are based on true events. I ask that you do not call me a liar, no matter how great your dislike of my craft.”

“It is not a liar that I call you, but rather a thief.”

Eddie gasps, offended now. “What do you suggest I have stolen, then?”

“A person’s right to their own story. To their own nightmares. A man's right to flee from the horrors he lived through, acquainting every tavern in this kingdom and the next with his horrific and desperate deeds.”

“How dare you call his deeds horrific,” Eddie hisses now, feeling protective over his knight. “How dare you accuse me of ill intent when every word out of my quill is written with nothing but love and admiration.”

“For whom?” Harrington challenges, disdainful and cold. “Only for yourself, your vanity, your overgrown sense of artistic ambition.”

“No,” he shakes his head, hands clenched into fists as he finds himself incredibly close to Lord Harrington, their faces only inches apart now. “It is love for this person I have never met, whom my dear friend has told me about. A man who has kept me awake at night as I was pouring over letter after letter, hoping he should be well. It is a love so strong it has to be turned into art, into song, love that should be sung in every voice of the kingdom.” He scoffs, stepping back to catch his breath. “I do not expect you to know such a love when all you have in your cold heart is disdain for all things beautiful. You would never know bravery if it looked you in the face, you would never know love if it was the very fabric that makes this world. It would slip through your fingers, my Lord, for you would be busy yearning for the day your life found its meaning.”

He is seething, heaving breaths, out of control over the words tumbling out of his mouth. Insulted in his pride and his muse, offended, hurt. Confused, still, as to why the Lord hates his songs with such vigour.

“Is that your opinion of me?” Harrington whispers, though even in that toneless voice of his lies so much that Eddie cannot begin to decipher.

“Yes,” he whispers back, the fight leaving him now, the very air sucked out of the room they share. “I believe I made that clear just now.”

Harrington takes one step closer once more, but Eddie does not budge.

“Then I suggest you forget that knight of yours,” he says, quiet and final. “And forget the idea you have of love. To love someone is not to turn his nightmares into song. To love someone is not to look him in the eye and insult his very existence even further. You love yourself, your craft, your mind. But you do not love him. You would not recognise him if he shared the same breath as you.”

Eddie huffs, just barely able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “And what makes you so sure of that, Lord Harrington?”

A smile twitches his lips, though there is no mirth, no glee. “You have just proven it to me, Mr Munson.” He takes a step back and evades Eddie’s eyes. “I believe you should return to the fest now. Good night.”

And with that, he turns around and leaves.

Eddie finds himself rooted to the ground, air returning to the room now but still he is unable to catch his breath, staring ahead as he is.

Words echo in his mind as the picture paints itself and a horrible, horrible realisation dawns on him.

You will find there is an irony to your words soon.

How can you pretend it is not my life you have taken and made your own?

But you do not love him. You would not recognise him if he shared the same breath as you.

You have just proven it to me, Mr Munson.

But… There is no way. There is no way that Dustin’s friend, Dustin’s knight and protector, his saviour, Steve, should be the same as Lord Harrington with his careful, quiet, disdainfully quirked eyebrow.

Except, Lord Harrington collected Dustin from Eddie’s home, speaking with him in a tone filled with such familiarity, they cannot be mistaken as anything but friends.

And Lord Harrington had listened with such rapt attention when Eddie played his jaunty tunes and the well-known classics at the banquet days ago, looking like he enjoyed Eddie’s play. His face had only soured when people started requesting his newer original songs, his fists clenched upon the opening chords of The Knight and His Nightmare, leaving the hall altogether when people requested more.

You sing your ballads, your histories, your Knightmærs like you know what they mean.

Eddie’s heart falls when he realises what he has done. How blind he was to the frowns and the tension, how deaf to the hints and insinuations, how ignorant he was of the pain he inflicted on Lord Harrington. Lord Steven Harrington. Steve.

His Steve. And yet not his at all.

He falls back onto the bench, dazed, as the weight of his realisation settles inside his chest.

onwards to part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #honey i’m so sorry you gave me a rather clear prompt and i went and disrespected it but i hope this is fine too??#this is also the part where we remember i’m german and am using this language like lego bricks on a playmobil set #dio words #this wasnt meant to be so dramatic but uh. apparently i write miscommunication tropes now. pride&prejudice made me do it #i am planning on a part 2 but i do not control the brain #knight!steve harrington #bard!eddie munson #bard/knight

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 1 month

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part 16 - but I know where to start

“Feeling my way through the darkness, guided by a beating heart. I can’t tell where the journey will end, but I know where to start.” -Wake Me Up by Avicii

Regent Masterlist Part 15

Was it a cop-out to summon Jazz back to the Far Frozen? Yes. Did Danny particularly care? Nope!

Jason was comfortable, propped up with a book Ghostwriter who had popped by to personally deliver. How the ghost had known about Jason Phantom wasn’t going to question, but he suspected GW kept an eye on the bookworms that passed through the Realms- or at least those close to the “Royal family”. Phantom wasn’t much for reading, not unless it was space-related, but he enjoyed listening to the Liminal man reading out loud. He had a brash voice, accented with a cadence like those from Crime Alley, but it only underscored the passion he held for reading. Phantom didn’t interrupt him once, not even when the halfa pulled out his ecto-phone and texted Ellie.

(His little sister was in Kansas, spending time with another clone she’d literally run into.)

Almost another full day's cycle passed before Phantom realized Jason had fallen back asleep, a book resting open on his broad chest and soft snores coming from the man.

Yeah, he could see how he and Jazz fit together so well.

There was just something about the Once-Revenant, a part of what made him Jason, that resonated with the Phantom. It’s what made him talk to the man as Red Hood, feel comfortable enough to stay in his company for so long, trust him with his older sister- the person who raised him.

(Spent her birthday money to get him those cheap plastic glow-in-the-dark stars.)

(Taught him how to read.)

(Held him as the nightmares of his death shook him to his core.)

(Did not fear him.)

(Not as Phantom, Danny, or Dan.)

(Loves him.)

(Mourns him.)

(He would never tell her, but he understood how Dan could succumb to grief.)

(Jazz was his.)

(His first friend, his true mother, his rock.)

(She wouldn’t have claimed Regency without that tie.)

Remix & Original chat

Remix: Lol hows weenie Original: jasons x3 ur size pipsqeak Remix: ur point? Original: lol hes ok frosty says he got hurt wth shrpnel new healed core + shrapnel = bad time Remix: sucks 2 b him Original: so tru Whre r u? Remix: omw 2 spain barcelona Original: ooh send pics if u need me call Remix: pics or nay gotcha txt u l8r luv u Original: love u 2

Safely back in the living Realm and tucked away in Jason’s apartment, Jazz and Danny tried to investigate the bomb- unfortunately there was nothing for them to do but wait.

On the upside, the Justice League was about to hit the UN full force with all the subtlety of a tsunami and who had front row seats to the drama?

Yep, the Regent. Jazz wasn’t exactly thrilled that her presence was requested, even though it was on the path to the desired outcome the Nightingale siblings had fought for, but both her soulmate boyfriend and little brother would be by her side as support.

The Birds and the Bats Group Chat

Zombie: I lived bitch Spoiler-Alert: Jason! Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing! Blood_Heir: Todd. Zombie: don’t sound too excited there demon brat. Blood_Heir: Never. Sleep_When_Im_Dead: Where have you been? Zombie: Stayed overnight at my Docs for observation. Fly-Like-A-Dick: For three days? Blood_Heir: Fail to find that humorous Todd. Zombie: wasn’t meant to be a joke brat. I was actually at my Docs. Zombie: Got a shovel talk from my girlfriends little brother too. Spoiler-Alert: Whoa GIRLFRIEND!!!! 😱 Jason! Why is this the first were hearing this??? Fly-Like-A-Dick: Little Wing!!!!!! Quiet_Dancer: 🤗 Zombie: At least Cass and Dickiebird are happy for me Spoiler-Alert: Ecstatic! But details! Now. Zombie: No. Fly-Like-A-Dick: Is she a redhead??? Sleep_When_Im_Dead: Jasmine Nightingale. Zombie: Babs. Oracle_of_Gotham: On it. [member Sleep_When_Im_Dead has been blocked from the group.] Spoiler-Alert: too late!!!!!! Cass with me! Quiet_Dancer: 🫡 Oracle_of_Gotham: DENIED Batdad: Welcome back Jaylad. Zombie: Old man You and I need to have a talk with words Fly-Like-A-Dick: battle stations everyone!!!

Council of Uncaged Birds

Queen_Regent: Ellie, I want you to meet Jason. Officially meet him. WanderingPrincess: eh??? temp said wasnt srs Queen_Regent: Danny No InfiniteStarPrince: Danny YES Frosty said they are soulmates!!!!!! WanderingPrincess: 🤯😱 wha th fuck!!!1 Queen_Regent: language! WanderingPrincess: ENGLISH imma get a shovel gotta undead weenie 2 bury.

Template. [user InfiniteStarPrince has left the chat] WanderingPrincess: coward Queen_Regent: I have many regrets. WanderingPrincess: u luv us 👻

Lady & Knight chat Lady: Jay remember when I told you I wanted you to meet Ellie? Knight: She’s bringing a shovel isn’t she. Lady: I love how brilliant you are. Knight: I aim to please.

Lady & Knight chat Knight: you patrolling tonight? Lady: wasnt planning on it Knight: wanna meet me? Lady: same time same place? Knight: you know it

The abolishment of the Anti-Ecto Acts officially happened at three pm on a dreary Gotham Tuesday. Jazz was cuddled with Jason on his couch, dozing off to his heartbeat as he read Pride and Prejudice for the thousandth time. The comfortable silence they had wrapped themselves in only occasionally broken by Jason turning a page was completely shattered when Jazz’s phone rang with the Ghostbusters theme song.

“Danny?” Jazz answered surprised, “School isn’t out yet, what’s wrong?” She was greeted by Danny’s heaving cries as he replied.

“Batman, he- he did it!” Danny sobbed, “He saved us.”

It clicked then. The Dark Knight had completed the task he was entrusted with by a Spirit of Protection, the Once and Future Star King, and unknowingly kept the promise a ghost made to a young Jasmine Fenton.

One day my son will stop this. All of this. You only need to be strong. Take care of yourself and your brother. I promise.

She had waited years for the promise to be fulfilled, the sworn promise of the dead to a living child. Jasmine was a patient soul, but she had still been a child that night in Gotham.

(The Drs. Fenton believing the stories about a ghostly vigilante patrolling the streets, a never aging child by their side.) (Dragging their children with them. ) (Hungry and cold.) (A dead man who swore his son would end their torment one day.)

(She should’ve known it wouldn’t come fast enough to save Danny.)

How was she to know the ghost was speaking of the Realms inhabitants, not the abused and neglected children of Ghost Hunters? How was she to know that the hope such a promise kindled wasn’t hers to keep? Jason wrapped his arms around her, the book set aside and her phone gently taken from her grasp to be put on speaker so they could both talk to her little brother. Danny had dissolved from heaving sobs to muffled hiccups, seemingly now that he’d shared the news with his sister.

“He really did,” she muttered. “He really did it.”

(The furry fucker actually did it.) (She’d known that he was going to try, but humans are stubborn creatures.)

A/N: Hi! Welcome to an update for the Regent. Just to be fully transparent with each of my readers - The Regent is still on Hiatus.

I have deleted so much of my writing because I don't like the flow/dialogue/pacing. Original ending thrown out and rewritten twice- still don't care for it. Who knew something other than Angst would be so difficult.

(Not me!)

Having said that, this entry is of course beta'd by the wonderful @meditating-cat who has put up with my random messages.

(You are amazing!)

(In all honesty, I wish I could just skip right to the ending because at least I know 100% I can get it just right....eventually.)

Thanks for reading and happy easter!

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heaven-s-black-box · 27 days

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Notes- They Teach you to Dance Furina & More

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Recovery date: April 3rd, 2024

Description: Your partner teaches you to dance. Includes Furina, Ganyu, Dainsleif, Zhongli, Traveler Twins

Notes: N/a

Back to directory

Furina

The reason for these headcanons, one of her teapot voice lines is her offering to teach you how to dance

She definitely forgets to instruct you at first, she just starts leading you in a dance as she hums a tune

If you have some dancing experience, that probably won’t be a problem, if you’ve never danced before…

She definitely takes it slow, she’s just been dancing for so long she forgets to explain

She will step on your toes just as much as you’ll step on her’s because of this

She will twirl you to teach you how to twirl her, once you’ve got that down she won’t twirl you anymore

She will also throw herself into a dip, if you let her drop she will pout and sulk

The best fix for this is to pull her up and into another waltz with a twirl

Once you’ve learned how to dance she expects you to lead, even if she initiates

Loves big dances, both in number of attendees and flourish of the dance

Overall 8/10 teacher and 10/10 dance partner

Ganyu

She can definitely dance, Cloud Retainer taught her, she just doesn’t dance often

Teaching wise I think she’s a great instructor, at least verbally

In the beginning she gets so fixed on explaining and watching your movements that she trips up

Please reassure her that you’re following okay, she’s not used to being in charge

You’ll definitely learn faster with her then Furina because in teaching you she’s also reminding herself

She won’t teach you anything fancy, but if you go and learn a twirl or dip she will break

You will have to initiate any dances, unless someone has told her she should dance in which case she will ask you

Also preference dancing alone and not in a large group, sweep her away to a balcony during a Qixing event and you can dance all you’d like

Preferes swaying to music over an actual waltz

In the end, 8/10 instructor and 10/10 dance partner

Dainsleif

He can dance, he was the captain of a royal guard, but it has been awhile

Seriously, you’re basically learning together

You also definitely have to ask him to teach you, Furina and Ganyu might offer but Dain won’t

Once you start dancing muscle memory kicks in and it sort of ends up like Furina teaching you

He can’t really explain what to do, so he kind of just drags you with him

By the time he figures out how to explain you’re halfway to figuring it out yourself

If he’s teaching you to dance before the fall of Khaenri’ah disregard everything before this, he is the best teacher on this list

Prior to the fall he will always initiate dances, if he’s attending and event and not on duty, after the fall you’ll have to initiate and he’ll be a bit reluctant

Chances are you aren’t at a formal event, so he sees no point in dancing, so if you want to dance you have to ask

Before the fall it is a point of honor to ask you to dance

Will always lead, another silly point of honor

Before the fall, 10s across the board, after the fall, 4/10 teacher and 9/10 dance partner

Zhongli

Can dance, not very fluidly and it is definitely a rusty skill now but he can

During his prime he was a good teacher, just a little stiff

Now he’s kind of like Dain, the muscle memory is there but very rusty

He will, however, ask Madam Ping to re-teach him how to dance so that he can teach you

So, you might step on each other's feet a few times but he will actually teach you

He prefers to initiate dances, like Dain it’s a point of pride, but he’s always happy when you do too

Will lead or follow your lead

Hu Tao as, on occasion, meddled to get him to ask you to dance

Like Ganyu he doesn’t really like big sweeping dances, he prefers being able to sway together to the music

Definitely a 9/10 teacher and partner only because he’s a bit stiff

Traveler

They can dance, definitely, they’re usually eachother’s partner

They’re also definitely smooth, you cannot convince me they would start stomping wars when they stepped on eachother’s feet

Both twins will ask you to dance, and if they ask you to dance they’ll lead– unless you ask to lead

I mentioned the twins are usually each others partner, it worked the same way between them– Lumine has been smacked in the face by Aether’s braid while twirling him and they’ve both definitely dropped each other in a dip on purpose

The twins don’t mind waltzes that travel, but they aren’t big fans of partner swapping dances

Aether likes dipping his partner, and Lumine likes twirling hers, but they both like being twirled

Sharing a rating, the twins are 10/10 teachers and 10/10 partners

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navybrat817 · 2 years

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Cordially Invited

Pairing: Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Female Reader Summary: You're in need of a date for an upcoming wedding. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Pining, flirting, slight feels (it's me okay), could be considered fake dating (or is it? 😏), protective Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), future smut. A/N: Again, I need another AU like a hole in the head, but here we are. @11thstreetvigilante, thank you for letting me scream about this. ❤️ Beta read by the beautiful @whisperlullaby (thank YOU as well!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by Nix, divider by @firefly-graphics and moodboard and banner by yours truly.

Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications and please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Modern royalty is both a wondrous and strange concept. As the only child of the King and Queen of Brooklyn, your parents raised you with a blend of tradition and modernization. They taught you to speak your mind while stressing to follow certain customs. You did your best to make them proud.

The picture-perfect princess.

Except, you didn't have a prince by your side.

“Something wrong, your highness?”

You turned in your chair to look at your personal knight, James “Bucky” Barnes. Standing tall at 6’4” with a muscular build, he served as your bodyguard when he wasn’t fighting for your father. Like his father before him. You worried in the beginning that he’d resent you for having to be your personal guard, but he took his duties seriously. He watched over you as if it was an honor to do so. Though he intimidated most because of his size and strength, he displayed kindness toward you. He quickly became one of your closest confidants.

A knight in name, but a prince in my heart.

“Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not moving from his spot in the left corner of your large bedroom. It was the perfect vantage point for him to see your window, the door, and you. “You dismissed your ladies for no reason, you’re not dressed for the day, and you’ve been staring at that invitation for the better part of an hour.”

You turned back toward your vanity and picked up the ornate invitation with a sigh.

Her Majesty Queen of Waverly requests the pleasure of your company at the Marriage of His Royal Highness Prince Clinton of Waverly with Her Royal Highness Princess Natalia of Volgograd.

You RSVP’d to Clint and Natasha’s wedding weeks ago and said you would bring a plus one because that was the expectation. Your parents asked every day since the invitation arrived who you planned to have on your arm. They gave you the option of choosing instead of making the decision themselves. With the wedding around the corner, you were running out of time.

“I still haven't chosen a date and my parents want an answer today."

"Forgive me for saying so, but you have been dodging the King and Queen's question."

"I know, I know. They're already disappointed that I've dragged this out."

Just like they're probably disappointed that they didn't arrange a marriage for me once I was old enough to wed.

"I highly doubt you could do anything to disappoint them or anyone else. You’re Brooklyn’s beloved princess through and through," he said.

Blood rushed to your cheeks as you set the invitation down. His praise felt good. "Thank you, Bucky. But why do I have to bring someone?”

"Tradition," he replied, crossing his arms. “You know, I figured the princes would be knocking down your door at the chance to be your plus one.”

“As if you’d let them get close enough to ask,” you said. "You don't even let Sir Steven near me and he's your best friend."

As your knight, one of Bucky's duties was to keep you safe from any possible threats. He took it to the extreme. If anyone got within a few feet of you, he was there to keep them away. Most didn’t try to speak to you once they caught a glimpse of him.

“It is my job to protect you,” he reminded you. “Especially from handsy princes.”

"Does that include Prince Nicholas?"

Bucky's jaw twitched as he nodded. It was a bit of a low blow to mention Nick’s name considering your knight couldn’t stand him. The prince was one of the few men not afraid of him.

"Especially Prince Nicholas," he grumbled, not hiding his disdain for the man. "What gift did he send you last week?"

"An emerald necklace. I almost felt bad sending it back."

"Insulting. Doesn't he know diamonds are a girl's best friend?"

You narrowed your eyes at him in the mirror, which made him chuckle. The sound sent a jolt between your thighs. Between that and the earlier praise, you prayed he didn’t notice how it affected you. Your knight was not only brave and trusting, but so handsome. Staring into his eyes was like getting lost at sea. Too many nights, you imagined how silky the brown strands of his hair would feel against your fingers.

And how the scruff on his chin would feel between your legs.

“Emeralds, diamonds, it doesn't matter. You don’t let any man get close enough to give them to me themselves,” you muttered to distract yourself from getting aroused. “Some days I wonder if you take pleasure in making sure I’m alone.”

Bucky frowned as he unfolded his arms. “You think I want you to be alone?”

"You tell me. My parents want me to wed eventually, but how will that happen if you won't let any suitors near me?" you asked, toying with one of your makeup brushes to keep your hands busy. “Or are you punishing me for constantly being on babysitting duty?"

"I'm sure the right man can court you without being in close proximity to you," he said, even though he didn't sound pleased. "And we both know I want to watch over you, so why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You had no reason to speak to him like that. But how could you admit that you didn’t want any suitors when you had him right in front of you? He wasn’t just your knight, he was everything to you. It upset you to think he didn't want you. It scared you more that he’d resign from his duties to settle down and have his own family. You didn't want that day to come.

Is it selfish that I want him forever by my side?

“I’m not trying to pick a fight,” you said, turning in your chair to face him. “And you know I don't care about any suitors. I'm just frustrated."

That includes being sexually frustrated and the toy I named after you is calling my name.

"I'm glad you don't care about those suitors because if you married one soon, I might be out of a job."

"You're stuck with me no matter what," you smiled. "I'm sorry for being rude."

“Give me a hug, princess, and I’ll forgive you,” he said as he held out his arms.

“No,” you said, but you were already on your feet. The robe you wore didn't do much to cover your body and you wondered if you imagined the hunger in his eyes. “I don’t think you deserve a hug.”

He placed his left hand over his chest, which drew your attention to it. He lost his left arm in battle years before and the kingdom had a state of the art metal prosthetic fashioned for him. To some, it was a sign of sacrifice and bravery. It showed you that he was a fighter and survivor.

“You wounded me with your words and you’re hurting me more by denying me a simple request.”

You fought to keep from smiling as you walked toward him. Knowing that he wanted to touch you, even in an innocent form, was a heady feeling. You wanted his touch, too. You craved it like nothing else.

“I’m only going to hug you because I love you,” you said, wrapping your arms around him once you were close enough.

He inhaled as he hugged you close and you allowed yourself to melt in his strong embrace. It made you feel safe and cared for. “I love you, too, my princess,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes and hid your face in his shoulder. Whenever you said you did things for him because you loved him, he always replied that he loved you, too. You dreamt of falling asleep to him whispering that in your ear.

I wish he loved me the way I love him.

“If I could, I'd be your date for the evening."

You lifted your head and pulled free from his arms as you considered his words. You couldn't stop the grin from spreading across your face. Bucky as your date? Why didn't you think of that?

“What’s that look for?”

"Sir James, would you do me the honor of being my date to the wedding?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You called me James."

"That should tell you how serious I am."

Please, don't reject me. I'd feel like a fool.

He cleared his throat and you tried not to feel anxious as you waited for his answer. "I’m not a prince.”

“Who said I have to bring a prince? It may be tradition for a princess to have someone on their arm for royal functions, but it should be a person of my choosing. Who better than the man my parents trust with my life?”

“But-” he began before you held up a hand to stop him.

"Isn't it your duty to serve and protect me? Your princess?" you asked.

“It is,” he answered, looking down when you took his left hand in yours.

“Bucky, I’m not just asking you as my knight. I’m asking because I want you to go with me,” you said, your voice soft as he lifted his head to look at you. "There’s no one else I’d rather go with."

You felt a slight burn in your eyes from unshed tears, but you held your head high. If he sensed your vulnerability, he kindly didn't call you out on it. You didn’t want to command him to take you nor did you want to beg.

“But if you don’t want to, I understand. I can ask Prince Nicholas instead.”

Bucky stopped you before you could turn away from him. "You'll do no such thing," he said, bringing your hand to his lips and softly kissing it. “It would be my honor to be your date, your highness."

"Really?" you smiled as he lowered your hand, but didn't let go.

"Only because I love you," he smiled back.

Your heart raced as you playfully hit his arm, letting your touch linger. "That's my line," you teased, looking over your shoulder to check the time. "Let's go tell my parents."

"You're in your robe," he reminded you as you tried to pull him across the room. "I don't think the other guards need to see you like that."

"I'll change later," you huffed when he planted his feet firmly on the ground. A wall of muscle, he was nearly impossible to move. "Bucky."

You gasped when he gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His enormous hand could crush your bones if he chose to, but the gentle hold reminded you that you were in his care. There was no mistaking the hunger there this time.

"Get dressed, princess," he gently ordered, his voice deeper than before.

I'm going to have to change my panties since I'm soaking wet.

"Then we'll tell your parents."

"Yes, Bucky," you whispered as he released you, having to put some distance between the two of you. If you didn't, you'd be too tempted to kiss him. And if you kissed him, you wouldn't be able to stop.

"Good girl," he smirked, moving back to his spot in the corner as you tried to calm your pounding heart. "I'll be right here waiting."

Good girl?

You weren't sure if he was teasing you or trying to rile you up, but you could play, too.

Oh, this wedding is going to be a lot of fun.

Let's hope it's nice and easy for them. We'll see how it goes. 😏 Check out Part 2. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #modern knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader #bucky barnes #knight!bucky barnes #modern knight!bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #royalty au

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 days

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Chapter 3: Entangled Ambitions - A Pact Sealed in Royal Halls

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

Satoru’s heart stops beating for a moment, eyes widen at the harsh words you just spit at him. How would someone like you know about his powers? He was always keen to hide them, never used his abilities in the presence of someone apart from Suguru and his family. He doesn’t even know you that well. You, the daughter of Naobito Zenin. How on earth did you find out?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clear your throat, nerves threatening to fail you. This is the only chance you have left. If Gojo Satoru doesn’t rethink his decision…No, there is no way you’ll die again.

“I am talking about your ability to manipulate the area around you freely, the fact that you can distort space. You are also able to create barriers and voids that nullify any incoming attacks, which makes you almost invincible in battle and is responsible for your great reputation as a fighter. But if your followers get to know about the real reason behind your skills…You know how great the fear of people with special powers is in this country, that all of them get executed. Not even Your Majesty will be spared from this.”

You are walking on thin ice. He is the prince, after all. So much higher in his rank that it would be easy for him to get you executed due to false accusations. But this might be the only card you have left, your last spark of hope. If Gojo Satoru won’t marry you, your father will let you get killed. And apart from that, this might be the only chance you’ll get to meet your favourite characters. What about Geto and Nanami? If Naoya and Gojo exist, they are definitely somewhere in this world as well. You are literally living the dream of every anmie and manga fan.

Well, except for the stinging fact that you call Naobito your father and Naoya your stinky brother.

“That are some heavy accusations you’re throwing at me, Lady (y/n). You know as well as I do that I could get you executed right on the sport for your unwise words despite the fact that you are a daughter of the Zenin family”, he replies.

The way he crosses his legs while smiling down at you arrogantly makes the urge to fall onto your knees and beg him for forgiveness grow louder and louder. But no, this is exactly what he wants. At the moment, all Prince Satoru does is playing and testing you. You can’t allow yourself to be messed with. After all, he has absolutely zero clue about what he is in your old world, that you actually died and reincarnated here. He definitely does know that your life depends on his mercy, though. And that your proposal benefits both of you.

“Why did you decide on marrying me in the first place? Was it because you fell in love with my portrait or rather because your family forced you to choose a wife and you thought I wouldn’t cause trouble because I’m a Zenin, because you considered I would urge to get away from my possessing family as soon as possible?”

Threatening him any further has no use. After all, Gojo is aware of the fact that you know about his hidden talent. Instead, you should focus on things you can actually prove, things that are obvious.

“You are a very loudmouthed young lady. I expected you to be more sublime. As a member of the famous Zenin family, you sure got taught etiquette and obedience from a young age, didn’t you?”

He can’t help himself. Just one look into your glimmering lavender eyes makes him provocative you even further. Of course, every little thing you said is true. Yes, your words are a serious threat on his way to the throne. Yes, his family does in fact urge him every single day to decide on a wife. Your proposal is the best solution for both of you, allows him to carry on with his unbothered life without the responsibility to satisfy his finance’s needs. But still…

“I couldn’t care less about my ancestry, Prince Satoru. All I care about is my own freedom”, you clarify, determination dripping from each and every pore of your face.

“And if you don’t decide on helping me, I have to find another gentleman who suits my requirements better.”

“Another gentleman? You are aware of the fact that I’m the prince, right?”

Out of all the arguments you brought up in this conversation, this one is the one that bugs him the most. Out of some strange reason, the sheer thought of you getting promised to another man doesn’t sit right with Satoru.

“As a prince, you are far above my status anyway. If it weren’t for politics and the reliability when it comes to the advanced weapon technology of my family, I wouldn’t even be considered as your fiancé”, you argue in all seriousness.

“What if I don’t allow you to marry another man?”

“Then I will find my ways to do so.”

“Fine, I will propose to you at the ball this weekend.”

Wait…what? After all the arguments, the discussions and the stinging fact that he stares at you with narrowed eyes, he actually agreed on it? Just when you’re about to thank him and leave, he gets up and opens his full mouth.

“But I want to re-arrange the conditions to suit my needs as well.”

Your pounding heart almost stops inside of your chest. For a moment, you just sit there and stare at him plainly like an idiot. Gojo Satoru, having conditions? This definitely doesn’t sound appealing at all. But do you really have another chance? It might be true that you are able to find another gentleman, the anger of your father will carry on, though. And who knows if he wouldn’t kill you even if you marry another wealthy man. No, this engagement is your best and eventually only option.

“What conditions are we talking about, precisely?”

“Once a week, I am allowed to present you as my fiancée in a way I will decide on my own. As the prince and future ruler of this country, I need to reflect a strong relationship with my future queen to the outside. It has to be credible. Everyone must think that we are deeply in love with each other, Lady (y/n).”

Shivers run down your spine before you’re able to stop them. Just one look into his blue thirsty eyes…This man won’t touch you even in your sleep. Doesn’t he have multiple young women just waiting for a chance to hit on him? Playing his wife for an additional day of the week. How wasteful, considering that you’ll never be more than his fiancée, that this engagement will get cancelled the minute it doesn’t benefit both of you anymore.

“I will fulfil my role over the span our engagement last and accept your addition, Prince Satoru.”

“Great! Now that this is out of the way, let me tell you one last thing.”

Before you’re even able to react any further, he grabs your arm and pulls you close. For a moment, you forget how to breathe, your nose tingling by the exquisite scent that radiates from him. You actually never wondered about the way he smells. But now that he is so close you would be able to touch him, so close that you can feel his breath brushing over the bare skin of your face, heat begins to crawl up your spine. Suddenly you feel like fainting, the immense presence of him standing this closely to you simply taking your breath away.

“If you decide on betraying me by telling anyone about my secret, I will execute you. There are no real feelings between us, I won’t even bat an eyelash.”

“First, make sure you keep your end of the bargain, Prince”, you bite back out of instinct, holding his gaze without any mercy.

Does he really think you’re scared of him? He might be Gojo Satoru, the honoured one, the strongest, the prince of this country. You might have been surprised by the way he grabbed you out of thin air. You are still (y/n), still you.

Instead of backing up, you take another step towards him and grab the collar of his elegant jacket. But you know all of his dirty little secrets, parts of his past and future. You are definitely no one to be messed with as well.

“And make sure you don’t disappoint me.”

You let go of him as sudden as you grabbed him, creating a safe distance between both of you by crossing the room and coming to a stand in front of the exit.

“Send me an invitation to the ball along with a pricy bouquet of lavender flowers. It was an honour to visit you, Your Majesty. I am looking forward to our next meeting.”

One last polite curtsy, one last elegant smile. But just when you’re about to call the waiter in order to open the door for you, it swings open by itself.

And your cheek clashes into something particularly hard.

“Oh no, I am beyond sorry My Lady! I wasn’t aware of your presence!”

That voice…You get greeted by a pair of the manliest hands you’ve ever seen, hands gliding up his definitely toned arms. He lifts you off the ground as fast as you stumbled onto his, arms holding you into place tightly.

“You must be Lady (y/n), what a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Sir Geto Suguru, the steward of Your Majesty.”

“S-Suguru?”

Your widen eyes focus on his face in an instant, heart almost beating out of your chest. All those times you admired his drawing, the way he acted so elegantly. The countless fanfictions you’ve read with this exact first meeting.

Only to end up with him in bed later on.

“That is my name”, the man in front of you replies along with a small laughter.

That smile. That oh so charismatic smile. And that manly smell, a mix of mint and leather. You force yourself to gift him with a smile and create a safe distance between both of you. So this is him, the best friend of Gojo Satoru. Even in this world, you can tell how close they are to each other.

Will it stay like this, though?

“I’m sorry, I must have hit my head a little too heart”, you comment, finally ripping your eyes away from his brown ones.

“Do you know each other?”, the firm voice of Prince Satoru interrupts.

A look into his face tells you that he isn’t amused by this sudden meeting at all.

“I’ve never seen Lady (y/n) apart from the portrait that was sent to you, Prince Satoru. But may I say, you look even more mesmerising in person.”

“Weren’t you about to leave when Sir Geto arrived, Lady (y/n)?”

Gojo smiles at you without his eyes, a cold glare decorating his face that is definitely supposed to intimidate you.

But instead of backing up, you take a risky step towards Geto Suguru and bow oh so sweetly.

“Oh Sir Geto, I don’t deserve your kind words. After all, it is you who is a feast for my eyes. No excuse me gentlemen, I still have lessons to attend. I hope we’ll meet each other again this weekend, Sir Geto. Have a nice week, Prince Satoru.”

Without gifting him another single look, you turn on your heel and walk out the door.

You did it. You convinced him to propose to you. But…is this really what you want? Is Gojo Satoru really what you want? Just the way he stared at you with arrogance dripping from each and every poor. Urgh, you fucking hate him. There’s no way to deny that he’s driving you over the edge. Why on earth does it have to be him? Why not Geto, what about Nanami?

Why does it have to be Gojo Satoru?

“She seems like a really nice young lady”, Suguru comments visibly amused while sitting in your former place.

“What your tongue, Suguru. She will me my fiancé after this week is over.”

Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren

@sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823

@livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom @byakuya61085

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merakiui · 1 year

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thinking about a royalty omegaverse au with fluffy alpha floyd.

(cw: omegaverse/abo, nsfw, female reader, pregnancy, knotting)

You and Floyd grew up together within the palace, with Floyd being one of the two princes who would one day rule the kingdom and you being a regular servant girl who had been born within the palace to parents who were servants for the Leech family. From the moment you were deemed old enough, you were being trained in servitude so that one day you would eventually be an obedient, dutiful maid. You and Floyd got along very well as children, often escaping your lessons and scaling trees in the courtyard to hide from the pesky grown-ups. Floyd never seemed to care much for the divide in class, but it was always made obvious when you’d watch from afar, noting how much time and effort went into tutoring him and Jade in all subjects, getting them accustomed to the tasks of the throne that they would one day inherit, while you were taught how to do laundry, how to clean, how to tidy a bedroom within minutes, how to keep everything that made you an omega hidden so you wouldn’t “tempt the princes,” as everyone often said.

Despite that, you were still cordial to Floyd, even if he seemed to be way too friendly with you, a mere servant. Floyd had always said you were his favorite maid because you never acted like one, which had bothered you immensely back then. Your entire existence revolves around Floyd; you’re meant to serve him and his brother, not befriend him. It’s what you’re being conditioned to do right now! But Floyd chooses to see you as his friend, which makes it awkward for you as you’ve never been particularly close with royalty or any of the aristocrats who occasionally fill the palace for grand events and balls. Your parents secretly encourage it because Floyd likes to gift you things that he thinks are insignificant but cost a fortune for you. And your parents sell these items to make more money in hopes of one day saving enough to send you to a magic school. It won’t be anything nearly as sophisticated or expensive as private institutions like Night Raven College or Noble Bell College or even Royal Sword Academy, but they hope to at least give you an education. You feel a little bad about tricking Floyd when you accept the jewelry he gives you, but you’re just trying to keep everyone happy.

Floyd’s scent was always strong, even after he had finally presented as an alpha, but as he grew older it only became so much more stifling. Not that it’s a bad thing. It doesn’t bother you as much as it used to. Now you can tell when he’s bounding down the halls the moment you catch his scent before you actually see him. You’re usually good about keeping track of your own biological troubles. The palace provides all staff with heat suppressants and rut modulators and scent blockers just to keep things peaceful and prevent any issues. As always, dutiful as ever, you follow the rules and do everything that’s expected of you.

As a result of your obedience, Floyd has never known what you smell like.

Until years later, when the both of you have become fine young adults. He and Jade had been accepted into NRC, which wasn’t much of a surprise, and a big celebration was held to commemorate the acceptance letters that their parents proudly boast. Unfortunately, the celebration happened to fall on the day Floyd’s rut started. His ruts have always been sporadic, as if they’re mirroring his own spontaneous nature, but it could just be because he refuses to take any medications necessary to regulate such things. He’s royalty. Why should he? Floyd’s ruts always leave him in the most volatile of moods; he’s violent and irritable, prone to lashing out at anyone who happens to get under his skin.

Usually, he locks himself away in his room and fights through it, dazed, hungry, and endlessly horny. Tonight, however, he seems to be roaming the halls as if in a trance, led by a scent that is foreign to his keen nose. So when you turn down the corridor and nearly run into him in the shadowed hall, you think for a quick moment that this is Jade. But then Floyd’s overwhelming pheromones hit you like cold water in the face and you almost crumple to your knees.

“Y-Your Highness!” You take a measured step away from him, but he doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are fixated on your face, nostrils flaring and pupils blown impossibly wide. “Can I... Can I help you with something?”

He smiles at you, a lazy stretch of his lips that shows off rows of pointed teeth. “Shrimpy smells nice.” He looms over you, his scent rolling off of him in aroused waves. “Real nice.”

Your blood runs cold and you slap your hand upon your neck, realizing with rising horror that you forgot to put your scent blockers on. You’d been so wrapped up in party preparations that it had completely slipped your mind. No wonder why Jade had given you such a strange look when you’d served him his breakfast! He must have smelled you.

You know this is a terrible mistake made even worse by the alpha in rut standing before you. And not just any alpha in rut. It's Floyd. Prince Floyd.

Before you can think of what to do, Floyd’s hands are on your hips, feeling and squeezing, and he rubs himself against you, practically clinging to you out of sheer need. Though he’s wearing thin nightwear, you can feel his hard cock pressing against your ass and it takes all of your restraint not to give into your omega instincts. You know it’s useless to try to stop him; it might irritate him and you’re not looking to lose a few teeth tonight.

When he’s undone the upper half of your uniform, letting it pool at your waist while he fondles your breasts, you realize that it won’t be too terrible if you let him get it out of his system. You’re his maid, after all. It’s your job to help him, even if you know that this sort of relationship is forbidden within the palace.

Floyd would have been content to touch and nip at you in the hallway, but you’re worried someone might walk down it and catch the both of you. And then that would be the end of you and your parents, the lot of you sentenced to eternal banishment (and that’s only if the Leeches feel lenient). Floyd whines when you squirm out of his grasp, his hands chasing your waist to tug you against him again, but instead you take his hand and hastily lead him into the nearest guest bedroom. He seems to catch on right away, for a clumsy grin blossoms on his face, and he nearly throws you onto the mattress in his haste, shedding his clothes so quickly that it’s almost silly.

“P-Please be gentle,” you whisper when he’s climbed over you, too impatient to remove the rest of your uniform. Your skirt is hiked up in ruffled bunches, your panties slid down to your ankles. His scent is so strong that you feel your arousal building between your legs, slick gathering in amounts so copious you’d think you’re in heat.

Floyd leans in to nose the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Course I'll be gentle,” he mumbles, officially rut-drunk. “Shrimpy smells amazin’... Never knew ya could smell this good. Why were ya hidin’ it?”

You swallow thickly when the fleshy head of his cock prods at your pussy, and in that moment you realize this is the first time you’ve ever been intimate with anyone before. To think you’d spend your first time in the dark of a lonesome guest bedroom, with the prince as your bed partner. It feels like a dream or the plot of a whimsical romance, but you know this is neither. This is just a convenience.

“It’s... It’s against the rules.” You try not to think of anything; you try to ignore the fact that he is much bigger than your fingers.

“Fuck the rules,” he spits with an annoyed growl, and then he’s snapped his hips forward, his cock filling you much more than what you’re used to, and an unrestrained moan rips from your throat at the intensity of the stretch. Floyd exhales shakily, gripping your hips so tightly you think he might shatter you.

This is not gentle at all, you think, but that thought is quickly punched out of you when he pulls back and thrusts in, searching for a pace he finds pleasurable.

You bite into your wrist to muffle your cries, far more aware of how loud Floyd’s groans are. If anyone hears and peeks in... If the party stops and everyone sees... If the king and queen...

“Lemme hear ya,” Floyd whispers, stalling his movements to search for you, a single golden eye sparkling in the dark. “S’no fun if you’re quiet.”

“T-There’s still... The party... I don't want to get caught,” you admit through gasps, blindly feeling for his shoulders. You find them, broad and wet with sweat, and you loop your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your face. “I... I could get in trouble.”

Floyd giggles, teeth flashing. “Aw. Is Shrimpy scared?”

Yes, you think frantically. Of course I am! My entire job is on the line!

“Anyone who’s got a problem with it is gonna hafta talk to me first,” he says, syllables punctuated with rough, uneven thrusts.

You’re writhing under him, shredding his shoulders bloody. He’s set an erratic pace, fucking into you as if you’re all he knows. His lips find your cheek and then the corner of your mouth, and it isn’t long until he’s kissing you, exchanging saliva in a sloppy first kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless.

“You smell so pretty,” he’s murmuring into your skin, tipsy on your scent. “Wanna knot you so bad...”

You’ve heard that knotting feels good and that it usually helps with heats and ruts. Apparently it clears an alpha’s head, and it relieves the omega. You only know so much from listening in on conversations with the maids, so you’re not too sure what it’s meant to feel like or if it’s even as pleasant as the maids made it sound. But Floyd is a prince, your superior in every way, and you can’t possibly deny him. Besides, he’s already inside you. What’s a little more?

You moan your acquiescence and that’s all Floyd needs before he’s drawn himself back, laughter in his voice, and pushes into you so quickly that every inch is swallowed effortlessly. And then there’s something more, a larger, thicker something that stretches you wide, not yet filling you. Your nails burrow into Floyd’s skin, and he hisses a groan through grit teeth.

“S’tighter than I thought...”

“H-Hold on... It—” You wheeze, the breath squeezed out of you as his thick knot bullies its way past slick rings of unrelenting muscle. Tears gather in your eyes. “Hurts... It really hurts!”

Floyd’s shushing you, rubbing circles into your hip. He’s not particularly listening, holding you against him despite your anxious wriggling, and within just a few more determined pushes his knot pops inside. You howl through a messy orgasm, dampening the sheets with your fluids, and a torrent of filthy moans tumbles from Floyd’s lips when he finally reaches his end, cumming inside in thick spurts.

In the aftermath, the both of you are panting wildly, a mess of sweat and slick and cum. Floyd presses his forehead to yours in the dark, his breath ghosting over your lips for a mere second before he seals what little distance is left. The kiss is soft and sweet—an oath between lovers, sealed within darkness. You know you shouldn’t be so happy to reciprocate, but for the moment you allow yourself the delight. His tongue tastes every inch of your mouth, nearly choking you, and you whine into him, breathing in the scents of his pheromones and filthy sex.

He wraps the both of you in a blanket, cradling you against him while you remain connected. He’s buried his face in your neck, licking at your scent glands with happy, rumbling hums, and you almost embrace him out of pure instinct. But instead you keep your arms to yourself, resting them at your sides while Floyd douses you in his scent and takes yours in all at once. It takes some time before his knot has gone down, but by then he’s fallen asleep on top of you, his cock still nestled inside you. You lie there, staring blankly into the darkness, and it finally dawns on you that you just slept with the prince.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stir when you move out from under him, detaching yourself so carefully. His flaccid dick slides out and it has you shuddering with the need for more. You busy yourself with fixing your uniform and tucking Floyd into bed to dispel any foolish thoughts from muddling your rationality. And after you’ve finished with those tasks, you make your swift retreat—or about as swift as you can be when your legs are wobbly from both the sex and the fact that they had lost feeling with Floyd’s body lying sprawled on them. You still smell like him, and it takes two intense scrubbings with plenty of soap before your own scent returns. You wash your uniform right away, silently vowing to yourself to keep away from Floyd for the time being.

It was dark, so you’re certain he didn’t get a clear view of your face. You assure yourself with that thought as you snuggle into bed in the servants’ chambers, unable to shake Floyd’s rut-drunk words: You smell so pretty.

Floyd wakes the following morning in a very good mood, but it quickly sours when he realizes you’re not in his arms. In fact, your scent is just barely there. He sniffs the air, but his search yields nothing. And though he flits through the palace in a robe, too lazy to bother with proper dress, he can’t pick up that sweet scent.

But how could he when you’ve made doubly sure to wear your scent blockers?

He wants to find you. Floyd spends his day in a foul mood, chewing through the bones of the grilled fish he’s served at lunch, grumbling under his breath. No one comments on it because it’s so normal, but there’s more to Floyd’s behavior that the servants just can’t see. He’s anxious, drumming his fingers along the table and bouncing his leg. Jade notices it right away. He intends to ask, but Floyd doesn’t seem to be up for chit-chat and so he holds his tongue.

You can hide from Floyd all you want, but he’s going to find you.

Many weeks later, you wake with an omen. Nausea. You think it might just be the nerves. Floyd had looked at you yesterday when he was sparring with Jade, his eyes falling upon you for a brief second before you hurried along with the basket of linens you had collected from the clothesline. It’s probably the fear that he’ll find you and then your comfortable life as a maid will be uprooted that’s causing this unrest. But then the nausea persists, and as days become weeks it gets worse. You can’t seem to hold your meals down, and the foods you used to enjoy now make you sick to your stomach.

It’s the third time that day you find yourself emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet while a maid strokes your back, easing you with her soft cadence. She suggests you see a physician. You know you’ll have to, and when you finally do they confirm your suspicions. You’re pregnant. You lie through your teeth when the physician asks if you know who the father is, if the pregnancy was planned, if you have any plans for these next nine months. You’re already eight weeks along, and you dread having to admit the truth to your parents. You should have suspected something when you missed your period, but you’d been so caught up in avoiding Floyd that a missed period was the least of your worries.

If you were scared of being found by Floyd, you’re downright terrified now. You’re not sure what you should do. Will you get in trouble if you get rid of the child? Will you get in trouble if you keep it? It feels like a battle you just can’t win no matter what you do.

You hide the secret for as long as you can, relying on support from the maids who promise to you they won’t tell a soul. You work as you normally do, smiling through the fear, tidying the twins’ rooms when they’re out, artfully evading Floyd if it seems like his path might cross with yours. Aside from the nausea and the exhaustion and soreness that overwhelm you after spending each day moving around on your feet, you manage to accomplish everything that’s asked of you. You fight cravings and hormones and the omega instinct to seek out your alpha (who isn’t truly your alpha and can never be your alpha), swallowing them down as if they’re needles. It’s troublesome, but you tell yourself you can handle it. You must if you intend to live quietly with this secret.

It’s when your bump becomes more prominent and you struggle to fit into your uniform that problems start to arise. In addition to that, you’ve started producing milk and it’s become increasingly difficult to manage the bodily changes that come with pregnancy in addition to your duties as a maid.

You’ve had your fair share of rough days and pleasant days. Today seems to be the former. You haven’t even gotten through half of the day and you’re already exhausted, pausing your cleaning to take a breath. You should have taken a sick day; you just want to lie down and rest, you want to ease the ache in your heavy tits, you want a massage, you really want—

Your foot slips on the stairs and your heart drops into your stomach when you feel yourself falling forwards. The stairs spread out before you like a monster’s maw, steep and dangerous. But then someone’s seized your arm, tugging you against their chest, and you’re hit with a familiar scent. You turn slowly, as if on rusted hinges, and peer up at Prince Floyd. He looks annoyed, but his face softens when he notices your bump.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ spacin’ out on the stairs? It’s dangerous, y’know.”

“I’m sorry. I... I wasn’t...” You shake your head, tugging your arm free. “T-Thank you for catching me, Your Highness.”

Floyd peers at you, his brow furrowed. He’s eerily concentrated, as if he’s working out a particularly perplexing equation, and then he asks, “Why’re you working when you’re pregnant?” Before you can answer, he’s quick to add, “Not that there’s anythin’ wrong with it. Just... It can’t be comfortable.”

Tears gather in your eyes. You’re not sure why you’re overwhelmed with a sudden onslaught of emotions, but hearing the concern in his voice and smelling his comforting scent has you recalling the night that started all of this. Before you can stop them, the tears are falling and you’re sobbing on the stairs, wiping fruitlessly at your glossy eyes. Floyd flinches away, hands awkwardly grasping the air as he debates whether or not he should hold you.

“Hey, don’t cry... I’m not mad. I don’t care if you wanna work,” he adds hastily, offering you a smile to ease you. But it only has you crying harder, and he frowns deeply.

On the staircase that would have seriously injured you had you fallen down it, you admit the truth through blubbering sobs. And Floyd stands there, taking it all in, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“You...” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re Shrimpy?”

You swallow another rising cry and nod pitifully, pulling your apron up to dry your blotchy eyes. “I... I kept it because I thought that... That you’d want... That since you’re a prince...”

Your shoulders are trembling with your every breath, and you prepare yourself for the mood swing. You’re ready to be shoved down the stairs, to be kicked and yelled at, to be punished brutally. But that never comes. Instead, he pulls you into him, embracing you warmly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You feel wetness on your skin next, and then you hear the softest of sniffles.

It’s a weird thing to hear Prince Floyd crying, but then you’re crying as well, the both of you clinging to each other as if you’re braving the harshness of a rainstorm. And then he laughs, a strangled sort of sound that prompts a broken giggle from you, and now the both of you are cry-laughing on the stairs. He peels the scent blockers from your neck, and your scent hits him head-on. His arms tighten around you, not enough to crush you, but enough that you can tell just how fond he’s become of you in the time that you were apart.

He wipes your tears from your eyes. “Why’d ya hide from me? I was lookin’ all over for ya. Thought I’d never see Shrimpy again.”

“I... I was scared. I can’t lose this job. If anyone found out, my parents and I would be in trouble.”

“Mmh, I guess so. Looks like you’re out of a job.”

Your heart hardens and you blink at him. “W-What? Y-Your Highness, I... I... I’m sorry. I—please reconsider. I’ll do whatever you want, so please don’t—”

Floyd’s giggles silence you, his scent filling the air so warmly. He bumps his forehead against yours, grinning that dopey smile you love so much. “How’s about you become mine instead?”

“As in... L-Like your...wife?”

“Wife Shrimpy!” he cheers, taking your hands in his and squeezing. And then he raises them up as if they’re a cheerleader’s pom-poms. “Wife Shrimpy! And baby Shrimpy’s joinin’ us, too!”

You’re smiling through your tears. You’re certain your face is a mess, but that means nothing when you throw your arms around Floyd. He laughs, his body rumbling with the joyous sound, and his arms lace around you in adoring reciprocation.

Perhaps, you catch yourself thinking, this won’t be so terrible after all.

#i am letting prince floyd out of his cage now #meraki mumbles #tw: omegaverse #tw: abo #tw: knotting #tw: pregnancy #n/sfw #fluffy floyd hours

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captainjacklyn · 1 year

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Can I make a request a headcanon of Riddle, Vil's, Jamil's and Azul's reaction to finding out that their romantic partner is a direct descendant of the Great Seven? (Like the ones who found and made their dorms?)

Male or Female Yuu/MC/Reader/Y/N please and thank you!

What a wonderful ask, my friend ! I apologize for making this so late, I hope that you will still enjoy reading these head canons if you are still out there. I'll be using gender neutral reader since I wanted everyone to enjoy it but if you wish for a male/female reader only, send in a request and I'll get right to it !

Pairing(s) : vil schoenheit x reader, jamil viper x reader, Azul ashengrotto x reader, riddle rosehearts x reader

Warning(s) : gn!reader, may have some cursing, they/them pronouns are used but gender isn't mentioned, reader is a merfolk in Azul's part (cause you know- Ursula is a mermaid..), also they act similar to their ancestors.

Jamil, Vil, Riddle and Azul finding out that their partner is a descendant of one of the great sevens :

Riddle Rosehearts

When Riddle first met you, he didn't think much of it. Sure you were quite commanding and respected the rules of his dorms very well (which he appreciated) but he just thought it was your personality and nothing more.

When he found you looking at the Queen of Heart's statue, he was surprised to see dissatisfaction on your face. You appeared a little bothered and as your partner he wished to make sure his s/o was alright.

"Is everything ok my Rose ? You seem a little out of your element."

"Ah Riddle, no I'm all good I'm simply thinking about certain things concerning my ancestor."

"Oh, and who are they ?"

"The one I'm looking at right now."

....

WhAt-

he wasn't expecting that, honestly, it feels like a bucket of ice got dropped on his head. Since she is seen in such a positive light in Night Raven College, he will start asking you about her.

"Oh she was a tyrannical queen, absolutely insane with no moral whatsoever. The only traditions we pass down in the family are the rules and leadership qualities, those are taught to the kids at a young age. I never admired her, not once. Sometimes rules didn't even need to be broken for her to cut someone's head off. If she was in front of me, breathing, at this exact moment I would give her a taste of her own medicine."

...

He didn't expect that, not once did he think of it that way. What was pictured to be a righteous royal turned out to be someone who beheaded people for a yes or a no.

It doesn't change what he thinks about you, you are your own person and what your ancestor did is unforgivable.

he's just stunned, and maybe a bit more proud of being your significant other.

Vil Schoenheit

You and Vil are the star couple of NRC, people literally turn blind when they look at the both of you. Dazzled with glam and beauty I swear to god-

He's glad he doesn't have to constantly shout at you for being reckless and ruining your eyeshadow. Not like some people

You were the perfect visual depiction of a queen/king/royal, I imagine you two walking down the school hallway and a red carpet spawns out of nowhere for the both of you to walk on.

Aphrodite has favorites.

You take good care of your appearance, no matter the special/ so called 'unusual' features you carry, you still manage to appear even more wonderful than the Fairest Queen herself.

Rook stalks you follows you around a lot. He would gush at you everyday as you sat in front of the mirror and prepared yourself for the day.

He does this to Vil as well and y'all consider this normal at this point. If you don't, then get prepared to be spooked all the time. Like...all the time.

"My my [Nickname], you look especially splendid today ! Not like you aren't usually, but you managed to make your beauty shine even more than it already was !"

"Well I am the Fairest Queen's great-great-great-great granddaughter/son/child after all."

"..."

"Pardon me."

"Where did that come from ? Orchidia was that in the script-"

Rook will tell Vil immediately, it isn't like it will affect your relationship in any way, he just thinks its a very interesting fact about you.

He may or may not flatter himself with it, but even if you weren't, your beauty does shine without an ancestor to prove it.

Jamil Viper

You are an amazing tactician, I mean, you were capable of coming up with a plan to stop kalim from burning down the dorm 10 days before it had the possibility of taking place.

And let's not ignore your persuasive abilities, you don't even need unique magic to have 200 students do what you want.

You and Jamil are one manipulative pair, but at least you have good morals. Kinda wishing you were there during the entirety of chapter 4 because it would have been over in one episode with no overblot happening at all.

Wether you scold him after finding out is your choice, but if it does happen don't be too harsh about it, his mind is little coo-coo at the moment.

So much that the only thing he catches you saying is :

"...And I don't want you turning into my great-great-great-great uncle simply because things didn't go your way. He was one manipulative and deceiving *sshole who I wish was never related to me at all. He was smart but for the wrong reasons, you are so much better than the sorcerer of sands Jamil ! I know it, and if anyone or anything is bothering you, I expect a full ranting session from your part-" "Wait you're related to the sorcerer of sands ?"

"...."

"Did you hear anything else about what I said ?"

"To be honest..."

"No."

Well that went well.

He is genuinely impressed and a little disappointed about the fact that the very man who represents his dorm is a huge traitor.

You're the one to talk- Lady Orchidia please calm down

He understands what you mean but his perception on Kalim won't change so if you're friends with the guy he stresses over everyday than you're gonna have to learn to live with it.

I repeat, it doesn't change your love for one another, except this time he'll be watching his back a little more. Knowing your advantage against him.

He's soft for you ngl

Azul Ashengrotto

Who are you and why are you so cute together-

Octopus lovers. Oh my god this is too much.

Orchidia you still need to finish the fanfic Shut your mouth and let me die, I finally found my reason to sleep forever.

You will probably have to be a mermaid/man/folk due to your origins but your appearance is your choice cause I'm too lazy to give you one also I have no idea what you look like.

You are once again amazing at convincing people into obeying your orders and both loves and fears your skill.

You are also is source of confidence and pride, if you can be happy in your original fish form than so can he (you just gotta tell him that often.)

He'll find out during a normal conversation where the two of you are in his office as he's arranging the contracts and listening to you talk about your day.

"Oh and did you know my family is related to the sea witch ? I know it's crazy to believe but-" "YOU'RE RELATED TO THE BENEVOLENT SEA WITCH ?!" "Yes...?" *runs up to you and shoves contract in your face* "Please marry me."

He is very happy and very excited, acting like a fan who gets to meet his idol for the first time in person.

He thought highly of you before, now it's through the stars. get it ? cause he thought highly of you ? damnit I suck at jokes.

He's willing to hear you talk about your ancestor for hours and hours, she is his role model after all.

Finds himself very lucky to be with you, even prior to your declaration. You two are just adorable- SQUISHY OCTOPUS !

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