#liya writes

[dulcesiabits]

the sun is also a star, p.3.

summary: this is a continuation of the mhin and li necromancy au!!!

notes: 1.3k words, part one + two, necromancy + consequences of that, (light) body horror, obsessive/unhealthy relationships

v.  The Mind Forgets but the Body Always Remembers

Everyday, Li’s body falls apart, piece by piece.

The joints are easiest to sew back on, stitching fingers and knees back into their proper position. When the bones fall out of order, it takes them a little longer to reposition them, but it’s still manageable to cut Li’s skin open and slot them back in place. But it’s the other delicate parts, the rotting flesh that they cut out to preserve on ice, the damaged hair that won’t stay put, the fingernails that slide out uselessly, that are harder to fix.

“I’m sorry,” Li tells them every morning, her new greeting for the past few weeks.

“It’s okay,” they tell her curtly. “What happened now?”

And there is always, always a new problem to fix, some part of her body that has forgotten where it should be. Their day is devoted to obsessively cataloging every miscellaneous repair that Li’s body requires. Without their constant vigilance, she’ll fall apart, and the damage will be worse if they’re not there to catch the issues immediately.

When their work bears fruit and her body maintains the semblance of normality again, they run their hands over her body, counting the outline of each bone which protrudes from her skin. 206. 206. 206. All of them in their proper place, in the proper order. Right where they should be.

When they count, Li’s eyes are half-lidded as if she doesn’t know how to close them. She doesn’t need to sleep, not anymore, but Mhin will still tenderly smooth down her eyelids, to grant her the facsimile of rest. And she’ll keep them closed, for an half hour or so, before they begin to drift open again.

Her body is easy to take care of. They know where each muscle and sinew and bone connect. They’ve lovingly outlined a diagram of her body, knowing intimately where each organ is and should be. 

Her body is easy, but it’s her mind that’s more difficult to manage. It tumbles away, like a dream slipping through their fingers, and once it goes, it never returns. No, they can’t bring back her lost mind in the same way they can sew her arms into place. There are no manuscripts for that, no matter how obsessively they catalog her body.

The immaterial, the intangible: it’s Mhin’s worst nightmare. There’s no guidelines or charts on how to keep hold of memories, of the electrical impulses in her brain that make her who she is.

“What’s your name?” Mhin asks. It’s a routine integration, but they’ve increased the frequency from once to several times per day.

“Li.”

“What do you know about who you are?”

“I…” she frowns. “I’m…” Her eyes drift vacantly, her hands colder than stone in her lap. 

“You’re mine,” Mhin tells her. “And I’m yours. And we’re always going to be together.”

“Mhin,” she says hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“Mhin,” she repeats, mumbling their name as slowly and often as she can, until their name turns to nonsensical ramblings on her tongue.

Mhin lets out a breath. It’ll be okay. If Li forgets, then they’ll remember for her. If Li’s body breaks down, then they’ll repair it. And if Li slips away, they’ll chain her right back down to earth.

They keep the apartment curtains closed, now, to prevent sunlight from leaking in. It ruins Li’s skin, causing it to rot faster. And Li gets clumsy, forgetful, when they’re not around, so it’s easier to stick around by her side instead, to be right there when another piece of her body falls apart. They’ve never much enjoyed the company of others, anyways. 

Li sits, more quietly than a doll. She doesn’t move unless they encourage her to, doesn’t speak unless it’s on command. But it’s her. It’s still her. She’s still here, right where they can reach and touch and hold. And that’s enough. It’s what they’ve worked so hard for, to keep her close to them, in any form possible.

Mhin likes to kneel at her feet, with their head in her lap, eyes closed. Like she’s a god, and they’re a dog sleeping by the foot of her shrine. In their small world, the only people who need to exist are the two of them, and no one else. 

No matter what it takes. No matter what they have to do, or who tries to get in their way. They’ll bring her back, as many times as they need to, until the rest of the world has decayed and they’re the last two people alive. 

This will be a paradise all of their own.

vi. Your Past Sins Cling to You and Won’t Wash Away 

Li doesn’t remember who she is.

No, that’s not quite right. She might not remember, but the person taking care of her does. They’re infinitely patient and gentle, prompting her every day to recall her name, their relationship, her past. Even when she stutters, when her brain falters, gaps in her mind where memory should be, they guide her with their voice. 

“You’re mine, and I’m yours. We’re always going to be together.” It’s an unfamiliar promise, but one she repeats back anyways.

She doesn’t remember, but they remember for her. And the sketch of herself they present to her is one she doesn’t recognize. Yes, that’s it. She is given memories, but she doesn’t know them, not really.

Her name is supposed to be Li.

Li, Li, Li. Like the fruit, sweet as springtime on expectant lips. That’s how they call her name, a rich harvest of plums in their voice.

And this person is supposed to be important to her. And they are, even before they told her who she was to them, because even though her heart beats slowly and her mind swims sluggishly, struggling to retain every new bit of knowledge that person gives her, there’s a burning in her chest when they talk.

Their face, wane and pale, a full moon in her vision. They’re beautiful, and it seems they’re always close by her side. There’s never an instant in which she can’t see their hair fluttering out of the corner of her eye, their hands ready with thread and needle when some piece of her decays.

This person. Mhin. They’re called Mhin, and she doesn’t want to forget that. She doesn’t want to forget them, as it seems she’s done already, when they brought her back to them.

Mhin. Mhin, Mhin, Mhin. Her lips are too slow for her to say their name as often as she would like, so Li can only savor it in her head. Mhin. Mhin. Mhin. Like a wish, she sounds their name again and again, longing for something she can’t describe.

To be with them. To drag them close to her. To sink her fingers into their skin, to pull apart flesh and muscle until she can curl up in the hollow cavity of their rib cage forever. 

Because she can feel it, too. An incessant tugging at the back of her mind, a knot and rope forming somewhere near the base of her neck, a reminder that she doesn’t belong here. That she needs to go back. That her body is only temporary, and this hollow shell can no longer contain who she is.

The pull gets stronger with each day, death’s voice growing louder from the other side of the shore where she stands, water lapping at her ankles. 

But she turns away each time, even when the knot and rope tighten painfully, strangling her memories and mind. Because, here on this side, is where they are.

She has to stay. She– Li– must stay here, where they are. Because this is a truth older than memory, deeper than knowledge, an understanding built into the bones they enchanted back to life.

Mhin. Mhin. Mhin. In this world, she doesn’t need to know herself. She only needs to know them, and she will never let them go.

#liya writes #liya’s ocs #touchstarved #mhin #mhin x oc #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved game #tucks hair behind my hair cutely #sorry guys I just really needed to get this out I was possessed by my demons

[marcskywalker]

Wait I just thought of it.

Imagine au where after merlin confesses to his magic, at the end he was somehow able to save Arthur. They make it back to Camelot but there is some awkwardness between the two, like they've forgotten how to act around eo.

After years of hiding, Merlin is hesitant to show Arthur his magic, to make himself vulnerable to his King in that way. And Arthur takes longer to believe merlin's stories, there are more questions and double takes than there used to be.

Merlin tries to return the sigil one day, thinking that he doesn't deserve to have it since he doesn't have Arthur's full and unwavering trust any more (his words not the king's).

Arthur presses it back into his palms, "It's a gift, Merlin. You keep those."

obviously inspired by:

#merthur #merthur au #merthur prompt #Merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Ficlet #Liya writes #Bbc merlin #THE OG MIXTAPE SCENE #also love the idea of post reveal merthur being..... strained #like they aren't pissed at eo or want the other dead #both of them still love the other and understand eo #they just... awkward #insecure of where they stand in the other's life #stilted #KSUGFKJF #idk I just love that idea of them #having to find and rebuild parts of the relationship again

[afterdulce]

hold me until everything is ash on my tongue.

summary: mhin hasn't shown up in town for a few days. concerned, you visit them, only to discover they're plagued by a certain infliction you can help them with.

notes: 1.7k words, literally just about mhin going into heat bc we have to put their monster affliction to good use yk, some marking, dry-humping, this is my sub mhin agenda

Mhin hasn’t been in town for the past several days.

It shouldn’t be surprising; like an alley cat, they come and go as they please, too elusive to track down unless they want to be found. No one else seems particularly worried, either. When you ask Kuras, he simply gives you a gentle, inscrutable stare.

“They’ll be back before long,” he says.

But that’s not enough to abate your worries. There’s an odd feeling poking at the back of your brain, saying that something isn’t right. Mhin lives alone; if something were to happen to them, it would be too late by the time somebody noticed. They get into their fair share of scrapes, too. You’ve seen them wobbling into Kuras’s clinic, blood seeping through their clothes.

Besides, the truth is that you’re a little lonely when they’re not around. Who else is there to tease and bump elbows with at the bar? No one can take their place.

It’s with those thoughts swirling in your mind that you screw up your courage and head to the location of one of their hideouts.

They had given you the information about their various little hideouts on a strictly confidential basis– “I have several places around the city. This is one of them. We can talk in private here. Stop grinning, it doesn’t mean anything–” on the pain of death if you told anyone else. They might not even be there, but it would at least soothe some of your worries if you still tried to see if they were there.

Pocketing some oranges (if they were sick, fresh fruit would do wonders, even if it is a bit above your price range), you step through the streets, keeping your head down, heading through winding alleys and twisting streets until you reach a non-descript door, tucked into a cobblestoned corner.

You knock on the door. “Mhin?” you ask softly as you can.

Silence. Then, an odd thump.

They were there, after all! Your heart leaps. “Hey, it’s just me. No else is here,” you say quietly. “I was worried about you, and—”

“Go away.” Their voice is strained, which dulls the snarl in their voice. Something thumps against the door again.

You pause. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t sound like you’re doing so well.”

“You need to leave,” they hiss. How badly were they faring, to sound like his? Your pocketful of oranges are a poor remedy to whatever inflicts them, and it must be serious.

“I’m not going to leave if you’re sick,” you say. “It’s been days. How long have you been in there? Do you need Kuras? I’m not leaving until you’re okay. If you need help, then I want to help you–”

At your last words, the door wrenches open, and something snakes around your wrist and yanks you in. You stumble as the door closes behind you with a soft click. You squint in the soft darkness of the room– you can’t make anything out. It’s all smudges and blurs, with only the faintest edge of sunlight trickling through the curtained window.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Mhin says lowly. It sounds like their voice is right by your ear, but you can’t sense their presence at all. Where are they? “Why did you come?”

“I was worried,” you say. “I missed you, you know? I brought some fruit, in case it would help, but…”

Their breath hitches at your words. “You are so irritating. I don’t… need your help.”

“Then why did you let me in?” Your annoyance spikes at their tone. Even on their best days, they were prickly, but something feels different. There’s a fragile edge to their voice, like a thread stretching to the point of breaking. “I’m serious, Mhin. I want to help you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Then help me understand,” you say.

Something shoves you against the wall. It’s Mhin. Their hands are on your shoulders, grip as tight as a hawk with its prey, and you can barely breathe. They’re close– so close that you can almost make out their face in the darkness. There’s a sheen of sweat coating their reddened face, and their eyes are glassy. Their breath comes in short little pants.

“I… This is something you can’t help me with, do you understand? It’s not– it wouldn’t be fair,” they say, words spilling out of them like overflowing water from a cup. “Why are you always like this? Poking your nose where it doesn’t belong? How foolish are you? If you hadn’t come, I could have just– ridden it out. I could have just– thought of you– and it wouldn’t be so bad– but if you’re here in person, I… You ruin everything.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, a strange little tottering beat. Mhin leans in closer, their nose brushing against your neck. “Mhin…” you whisper tenderly, and they shudder.

The thumping of your heart isn’t because you’re not scared. You’re excited, and your neck burns where they nuzzle against you incoherently, as if they’re not aware of what they’re doing. You’ve read about this sort of thing before, and if you’re guessing right, you know precisely what’s ailing them. It’s no disease after all.

“Go back. Now,” they say.

“What if I don’t want to?” you say. “I said I want to help you, in any way possible. Including this. I mean that.”

They fall silent. There’s nothing but the sound of your rabbiting heart, and their little gasping breaths. Their nose traces cold trails along your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to grant them more purchase.

“You… This isn’t something you do lightly,” they warn. “This is your last time to take it back.”

“I don’t want to take it back,” you whisper. “I mean it. I mean, er– I would also feel bad if I was taking advantage of you, if you’re in this state. I’ve read about this before, and being in heat can befuddle some reasoning abilities–”

They laugh, a short, raspy sound. “Advantage? That’s ridiculous. You drive me insane. I’ve… dreamed about you fucking me ever since you first step foot in this stupid city.”

Your face heats at their words; it’s not like Mhin to be so straightforward, but any comments you can make are swallowed by their desperate lips on yours. You’re not sure you can call it a kiss, not when you’re pressing against you so urgently, nibbling and sucking on your lips. It’s hard to breathe when they won’t relent for even a second, as if they’re afraid you’ll slip away if you do. They run their tongue along the bottom of your lip, and your mouth parts. They slip their tongue inside your mouth, tasting you, tongue giving gentle licks that make your head spin. They could do this forever, you realize. But you can’t.

You slap their shoulders, pulling back for air. You’re gasping, but Mhin barely pauses before they press a string of kisses against the side of your neck like a choker. They suck, and your legs wobble.

Holy shit. Normally, you’re used to initiating everything with Mhin, so their sudden aggressiveness is… weird, to say the least. Not that you’re complaining at all. There’s something hot burning in your stomach at their reckless behavior, so uncharacteristically desperate and unreserved as they leave hickeys along your neck that are going to last for a while, judging from how hard they’re sucking.

They want you. They want you, and judging from what they’ve said, they’ve wanted you for so long you’re all they can think about during their heat. The knowledge makes you feel warm, and flattered, and very, very horny.

As if they notice your thoughts are drifting, Mhin bites onto the skin of your neck, and you moan, cheeks burning. Their bite borders on the edge between pleasure and pain.

“Pay attention,” they whine, jealousy lapping at the marks they’ve just made. “I’m… right here.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. They’re so cute. So cute, and needy. “Of course. Whatever you want,” you say. As much as you appreciate their forwardness, it wouldn’t be fun if they did all the work. You shift your leg between theirs, your thigh running along the warmth between their legs.

Their hands grip your shoulders again, fingers digging into your flesh as Mhin shamelessly grinds along your leg, chasing their release with abandon. It’s an instinctual shift, as if they need to be on you at all times, feeling every inch of your body.

“Mhin…” you whisper, running a hand through their hair. It flows like silver between your fingers, smooth and shining. “How often have you been thinking of me?”

“I…” They avert their eyes, even as they continue to rut along your thigh.

“Don’t get embarrassed,” you tease. “I think we’re past that.” You grind your thigh against their warmth for emphasis, which makes them let out a little breathy moan. Oh, you definitely need to hear that again.

“All the time,” they say, the truth spilling along with their pants and gasps. “All the damn time. When I touch myself, I pretend it’s you. It’s… never been this bad before. It’s all because of you. It’s all your fault. I… I thought it was… a dream, when you showed up. Like this. Offering to help.”

They shudder, and you grind your leg into them again, helping them ride you, and it’s not long before something sticky and wet soaks into your pants from the spot where Mhin is. Mhin looks hazy as they cum, mouth parted. Their cheeks are still red, and they barely wait a second to calm from their high before they’re trying to rub themselves against your thigh again. Their touch sends jolts of electricity along your skin; what you wouldn’t give to touch them directly, without your clothes in the way.

“Sorry, Mhin,” you tease, planting a kiss against their cheek that turns them into a vivid scarlet. “I didn’t realize I was affecting you that badly.”

“You’re… full of yourself.”

“Hey, hey.” You slip your hands alongside the belt holding up their pants, running a finger under the leather and snapping it slowly. “I promise I’ll help you out, okay? Like you said, it’s my fault. So I’ll make up for it.”

When they lift their eyes to meet yours, so needy, so desperate, your reflection the only thing you can see in their gaze, you let out an exhale. Oh, it’s going to be a long few days.

#liya writes #touchstarved #touchstarved x reader #mhin #touchstarved mhin #mhin x reader #touchstarved game x reader #touchstarved smut #x reader #smut #mhin smut #mhin clenching their fist: you dont understand my burden...... i am cursed to be horny.... #mc already tearing off their clothes: THIS IS THE BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE

[shardssystem]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Luckily, I have written at least five things! <sigh of relief>

In no particular order:

Once Was Lost - The start of it all. I still “enjoy” the feeling that the inevitable approach to the gallows gives.

To Tame A Tiger - We are all miss Blaseball, RIV, and all that. I wasn’t as active as I would’ve liked, but I’m still proud of this piece, and how it gives a bit of character to an underrepresented player.

Future Past - While Once Was Lost is the start of things, this is where a little of the meat of the story starts coming into play.

Pulling Loose The Threads - Escalation is the name of the game here, and shows a solid link to the established canon, which I’m always wary about doing.

Holiday In Eorzea - Not just a Dead Kennedys reference! This is easily the most ambitious thing I’ve written to date, and it’s far from over. The sad thing in my mind is that it comes after a lot of other parts that are yet to be written. But sometimes, stories have their time and demand it.

Thanks for the ask, @brasideios! I’ll leave the floor open for anyone else who would like, but I’d like to hear from @kosmosxipo , @mossy-kit, and @cyndakip - Talk some Spit!

#fanwalker #mtg oc #liya al-amundi #fan writing #fanfic

[liyawritesss]

"I got it, I can handle it myself" gf 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 "i know you got it, but still, let me cater to you" bf Basim Ibn Ishaq

#liya talks #black reader #black tumblr #assassins creed #assassins creed mirage #assassins creed basim #basim ibn ishaq #basim assassins creed #i been thinkin HEAVY on this lowkey #could this be the idea that gets me back into writing? #ive been thinking on other things abt basim too he has such good fic potential #i shall keep yall updated

[chouettecrivaine]

dead woman walking

Fandom: @shepherds-of-haven ! A little drabble of my MC who I have grown unexpectedly attached to and now she dances around in my head all of the time

Characters: Trouble/OC

Notes: 1.6k, angst, depressing introspection, the world's most OVERDRAMATIC girl has the most OVERDRAMATIC kiss

Summary: Lark has decided that the best course of action is to go on the mission alone, even if fatality is certain. She plans to leave in the middle of the night when nobody can stop her, but first there are some feelings she needs to put to rest.

Even if the trip from her room to Trouble's was familiar, Lark couldn't help but slow her steps as reticence pulled against her on every step. The magelights lining the hallway, for once, didn't seem as warm and homey as before - instead, Lark could only focus on that one spot of darkness between each fixture. It didn't matter how far the warm light stretched; the shadows always made their way to her.

She stopped just outside the door to Trouble's room, standing perfectly still and taking a deep breath. In the stillness, time didn't exist to her. Lark could pretend that she wasn't heading off to her final battle, a one-woman army marching straight into extinction. Maybe this was the battle she was created for - or maybe she was damning everyone by throwing herself away when she knew her reality couldn't be remade. Either way, the thought hollowed out her body and filled it with ice, the way she had been before. Somehow, Lark always knew she was going to die alone. At least this way, she could save anybody that she had tricked into caring for her from riding straight into the maws of death for her sake.

Lark had made peace with it, as much as she could. Her time in the Shepherds had reminded her all too well how to want to live, but blind hope wasn't something she had been able to afford for a while. This was her last stand, and she could accept that. It was bound to happen eventually in this line of work. There was just one thing she needed to do - one box left to check - before she could leave her loose ends in the hands of others.

Finally composed, Lark turned and knocked on the solid door, each in rapid succession of the last. Her heart thundered in her chest, pounding against her ribcage and rising into her throat with every beat. Her mouth went dry, though she couldn't figure out exactly why. She heard a soft shuffling on the other side of the door and forced herself to swallow, determined to keep up with her own façade. 

Trouble opened the door, more alert than Lark had expected, and gave her a friendly once-over. Despite not being bleary-eyed and half asleep, he still blinked a few times as if to make sure it was Lark in front of him. Easily, he smiled at her, unsuccessful in keeping his gaze covert as it lingered on her untied hair. During the day, Lark kept it in two braids circled around her head and pinned closely to her skull. She only ever kept her hair down when she was sleeping, and the few times Trouble had seen it, he'd been silently fascinated. Without fail, the attention would send a wave of excitement through her body, but now her apprehension was too strong for even that to shine through. Still, she smiled back at him.

"What're you doing here, Birdie?" Trouble asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. He only stood there for a moment before hurrying to make room for Lark. "Oh, I mean, you're welcome to come in. If you want."

Lark shook her head. "No, that's alright. I just needed to tell you something important."

Though he kept the mood light, Lark noticed how Trouble's face immediately softened. She noticed that when he was happy to see her - so, normally - his eyes seemed to sparkle as if the golden rings around his pupils were pure ore. Now, everything was warm seawater and honey. "Of course. You can tell me anything."

Lark's heart stopped beating, only to grow so quickly she thought it might burst out of her chest. God, she wanted to stay. An overwhelming affection flooded her senses, choking her up and forcing her feelings to well behind her eyes. Lark gripped at her nightshirt, trying to blink away the tears before they became too obvious. She thought heartbreak was supposed to be a shattering of glass as someone tossed her heart aside; maybe it could be your own heart tearing at the seams and spilling out all the love you were foolish enough to hide, too.

"Well, I have to tell you the second half later." At the end of her sentence, her voice trembled, and she covered it up with a shaky laugh. Trouble didn't seem to notice.

"Alright, then what's the first half?"

A beat of silence passed.

Then another.

Lark wasn't normally the type to be at a loss for words. She never felt comfortable unless she had a plan at hand to lie her way out of - or into - a situation. But Trouble made her honest, and the truth didn't seem survivable in that moment. Not if it was to be spoken aloud in a voice that would hurt Trouble the most.

So she stepped forward instead, brought her hands to his face, and pulled him down to her height so she could kiss him.

For a brief, terrifying second, Trouble went entirely rigid. Lark couldn't tell if he was staring at her, bewildered, or if his brow was furrowed as he tried to figure out how he got in that position. It didn't matter, because both were endearing, and neither would have stayed for long. His surprise melted away and his arms wrapped around her back, holding her close against his body. Lark almost sagged in relief.

Beneath her gentle hands, she felt his face gradually warm, certainly a few shades darker than before. In fact, she could feel his warmth all over, radiating from him and almost burning where their skin touched. In this moment, she could have anything she wanted, and she could delude herself into thinking it would last. In this moment, Lark was safe. Loved.

She wasn't ready for Trouble to pull away, yet he did. It was only an inch, and the many questions he undoubtedly had died on his tongue, but she could feel it. The ground was fracturing beneath her, and reality was swallowing her whole. Lark could only think of two things, and their certainty dug into her like claws: she loved him, and she was going to die.

So, even if it was selfish, she pressed her lips against his again, desperate and rough and scared. This kind of emotion, passionate and raw, was more up Trouble's alley. He kept her ferocity, yet held her with the care he'd give glass, like she was to be wrapped up and kept safe forever. Maybe he should've. Or maybe he should have kissed her breathless. It would have been a far kinder fate - but her fate was never meant to be kind.

Lark hoped that he could tell in the way she held his face, in the ease with which she leaned into him. If she was worth protecting, he was worth cherishing, and even if she never said it she hoped he knew. Trouble was always dense, but he had his moments. Now that she realized simply wanting him wasn't enough, had never been enough, there was nothing she could do but hope he was getting it now, and ignore her desire to stay ripping through her soul.

When they parted for a second time, neither of them said anything as they tried to catch their breath. Lark kept her lips parted, knowing that if she closed them it would be too obvious that she was trembling. Trouble didn't realize it,but even through his crimson fluster he was positively giddy. It was almost enough to convince Lark to stay.

But that was dangerous thinking. So she slowly untangled herself from him, her fingertips trailing down his shoulders and to his arms until there was nowhere left untouched. As he sorted his thoughts, Trouble's arms fell slack to his sides, a metal filament falling when the magnet attracting it moved away. Lark bit her tongue.

"So, uh…what does…this mean?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck if only for something to do. Bashfulness wasn’t something Trouble was well acquainted with, yet he couldn’t look Lark in the eyes all the same. 

“That’s the second half,” She answered quietly. “I’ll have to tell you later.”

Trouble narrowed his eyes in the way he did when he knew Lark was keeping something from him. Void of any heat or anger, it was more of a way to make her feel guilty than get her to actually admit anything. But he let it go. This was something they had been dancing around for a long time; a little while longer wouldn’t hurt.

Clearing her throat, Lark reluctantly backed away from Trouble and towards the door, keeping her eyes on him. It was difficult to swallow and even harder to breathe, yet she twisted the handle anyway. The hallway air rushed in, cold enough to send goosebumps down her arm. The moment she left this room, it’d be the beginning of the end.

Just before she turned around completely, Trouble interrupted her. Looking at him over her shoulder, Lark could tell that he was worried about her. “You can stay, if you want. You’ve done it before.”

An arrow of regret shot through her chest. “No thanks. I need some time to calm down.”

Trouble chuckled at that, muttering something small and proud about the effect he seemed to have on her. Then, lifting his head, he nodded once and let Lark take two steps backwards, his gaze undeniably fond. “I’ll collect you tomorrow, then. We can go to breakfast together.”

Lark nodded once, firmly, and put on her best, brightest smile. “I’d like that.”

It wasn’t a lie, not entirely. She would like that.

If only she’d be alive to do it.

#🌠 pisces ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{all writing} #💠 sagittarius ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{fics} #shepherds of haven #trouble alder #shoh #shepherds of haven mc #trouble alder x mc #i don't know how to TAG this and idk how to write trouble LOL #liya saw me struggle through 50 different ideas and problems before making a decision #guess what! this fic is not the one i eventually decided to write in that chat :) #anyway i'm obsessed with trouble and lark......lark my bbg i'm so glad i gave you life. is this how it feels to be a mom #because this was such a specific thing and my ONLY goal was a kiss i didn't really describe her at all #but hopefully. eventually. i will write more. i just couldn't squeeze it in </3 #trust me she's a cutie #oh god i need an oc tag #and i hope this isn't ooc AHHHHHHH #👩‍🚀 astronaut ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+{ocs} #☆ shoh #☆ shoh oc #☆ trouble alder

[disproportionatelysculpting]

love- a feeling that scares me

no I can't let you in

I want to keep you a secret,

locked, buried, deep down

in the pits on my heart,

never let the feelings re-surface

a mirage of hope in my ill fate,

I wont hope on it, a stupid pipe dream,

because the truth is

I am not meant to be loved,

cannot wish for something out of reach

so I wont say it ever again,

or let it grow,

I will keep you a secret

'cause, what if it crumbles into ruins

when I say it out loud that

I am sorry, I am so in love, again.

#yeah ek sad poem likh liya #zeuge writes #poetry

[the-steambird]

[ 011223 EDITION ]

GENSHINBLR — NOVEMBER, 2023 EDITORIAL

EXTRA! EXTRA! Over here, dear reader! As we enter the twelfth month of the year, read up on what’s happened this past month of November on Genshin Tumblr!

From your Editors: Crow and Ely.

COLLECTIVES — November Events !

TRENDING! || From Journalist @meidnightrain

1989 Event — 21 songs to 21 fics with the Genshin characters; A celebration to the release of Taylor Swift’s 1989 album, with fluff, angst, and hurt / comfort galore! Our journalist Meisha takes us through the re-recorded album with various Genshin characters X GN! Reader ranging from Aether, to Furina, and many more in between!

NEWS FLASH! || From Editor @yuellii

Fontaine : Dark Blood — A supernatural-themed event to continue off the spirit of Halloween in November; Dark Blood follows three separate one shots of vampire Neuvillette, werewolf Wriothesley, and puppet Lyney X GN! Reader. Our editor Ely executes horror through her writing, so readers, please heed her warnings carefully in each fic!

COLUMN — Individual Spotlight !

LET TWO EYES BE UNDECEIVED, Lyney / By Editor @rainswept

Summary from the editor: Growing up with you by his side, falsities were always something Lyney could see through. He preferred not to use them, not for a long time — but once you were gone and he and Lynette were left without someone to do the group’s dirty work, he forced himself to inherit the way of living you left behind.

“So excited for this one! Editor Crow’s been showing me their progress—honestly such a must-read for Lyney fans when it comes out, teehee.” — Editor Ely.

YOU’RE SO RED, ARE YOU OKAY?, Furina / By Journalist @definitelynotaneulasimp

A comedic review by Journalist Henry, in which the Archon of Hydro attempts at a date, but all goes wrong when she develops a terrible case of hiccups. Rumor has it: This fic is a part of Henry’s 1.5k Followers Event!

Want more Genshin women content? Definitely check out Henry’s own blog for characters like Ei, Navia, and more!

GOODNIGHT, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @strawberrylabs

Did you know: Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, Venti, Cyno and Childe have voice lines about you, dear reader?! If you’re having trouble falling asleep, hear what these characters have to say all about you!

A SIMPLE MISSION, Neuvillette / By Journalist @alaboadoa

Rumor has it: The Duke and the Iudex were caught whispering privately about you?! Read as Journalist Soph gossips all the juicy details about their conversation—it seems Monsieur Neuvillette might have a crush on you!

Just recently released: Journalist Soph also just recently released a new entry for Ayato, “INK TO PAPER.” Both of these works are featured in her 1k milestone event!

ONE CHANCE (PT.2), Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @ayaboba

“You give them one chance. How do they use it?” Journalist Anya returns with Kazuha, Lyney, Wanderer, and Zhongli—all who have just one last chance with you. Be sure to also check our her part one of this entry with Alhaitham, Diluc, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley, linked in her entry!

WHEN THEY LOSE YOU, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @yrbladie

Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvillette, Zhongli — ever in the mood for angst and no comfort? Then Journalist Naeris delivered us painful excepts on five different Genshin men and how they act after ( spoiler! ) losing you.

With Journalist Naeris also being on the rise and joining the writing train, be sure to check out all the other works she has published this month, as well!

FEATURE — The Editors’ Favorites !

YOUR SHADOW UNDER THE ILLUSORY MOON., Lyney / By Journalist @dulcesiabits

“this piece genuinely moved me. journalist liya’s writing is beautiful, and out of hundreds — maybe even thousands — of works that i have read, this has remained my favorite. it had me hanging on every word and i could genuinely feel the emotion put into it — her word choices and the way she conveys the scenes are profound in a way i cannot hope to describe. the ties and parallels part one has with PART TWO are so smart, too. hands down the most immersive and touching writing i’ve ever had the pleasure to read.” — Editor Crow.

JEALOUS-!, Ayato / By Journalist @jinxlixir

“LOVED this one! Takes place in a modern school AU with Ayato as the student council prez, and reader as his vice prez! The concept is every hopeful cliché, and Journalist Jinx did an amazing job characterizing Ayato so well—this one definitely stayed in my head for a while!”

“Not to mention: This little snippet is a continued concept of Jinx’s OTHER AYATO PIECE, one that’s much longer and written excellently!! I was practically squealing the whole time I read it… Ignore my tags if you decide to scroll through the notes.” — Editor Ely.

THE-STEAMBIRD is a Genshinblr Newspaper that posts news on the latest fanfiction and fanart! Editorials are published on the 1st day of every month, compiling your favorite works, featuring sections for journalists (writers) and photographers (artists).

Every month, from the 2nd-24th, we are in the nomination process. Writers and artists can nominate works they would like to see featured on The-Steambird for the month using our form!

#🗞️ — ꒰ news ! ꒱ #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #lyney x reader #ayato x reader #furina x reader

[srbachchan]

DAY 5879

Jalsa, Mumbai Mar 23/24, 2024 Sat/Sun 10:23 AM

🪔 ,

March 24 .. birthday greetings to Ef AMIT Trivedi .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

..

March 24 .. World TB Day .. prayers .. 🙏🏻

Spending the time with the words of Babuji is not just an education but a revelation of a poet's mind and soul .. a mind that wanders in the visionary hemisphere unknown and unseen in a relative World, but yet possessing the intelligence of the probability of a higher philosophy ..

For it all to come to me now , is a shame .. a shame of lost opportunity and time to have been spent in the research and his presence to be able to understand the deeper meanings in his thought ..

I did on the odd occasion give intent of his interpretation and reason for many of his thoughts .. and they were most revealing .. but then .. time passed away .. as did his presence ..

It is a known and accepted fact that genius of creative art, writing, painting, music or whatever form, has always been overlooked and never given its due during the lifetime of the artist .. and it has been recognised fact of this phenomena that coerces me to, yet again , mention here for consumption of the mass ..

A pity ..

But the efforts of time , or whatever is left in it for me , shall endeavour to give some exposure to Babuji's works and his incredible genius ..

The World has very seldom seen or experienced the greatness of such ..

Last night I spent time on one such random thought of his from a published work :

नई से नई, पुरानी से पुरानी

it contains works of his in short verses, or abstract from , blank verse - short and expressive , but of immense value for us all to think and wonder of how certain thoughts and the express of them , do get created ..

The title of the Poem :

KAVI KA RAKT .. A POETS’ BLOOD

meri band mutthiyaan dekhkar .. seeing my closed fists jis-jis ne mujhse poocha, .. all those that asked me “ismein kya hai” ? .. ‘what is inside them’ ? maine imaandaari se bataya , .. i told them with all honesty “ismein kya hai ? .. ‘what is in them ismein kadamb ka phool hai “ .. in them is the kadamb flower ? "(Neolamarckia cadamba, with English common names burflower-tree, laran, and Leichhardt pine,[2] and called kadam or cadamba[2]) aur logon ne is par .. and the people on this sahaj vishwaas kar liya .. did keep their instinctive believe

vo to jab .. that is, when meri mutthiyaan se .. from my clenched fists rakt ki boondein choone lagein .. drops of blood did start to drop tab logon ne mujhe avishwaas ki nazaron se ghoora, .. then, did the people did stare at me in disbelief mujhse kaha .. and they told me “mutthiyaan to kholo ।” "at least open your fists" aur jab maine mutthiyaan kholein .. and when I did open my clenched fists to unmein .. in them kantkeela dhature ka pahal nikala । .. did come out the thorn laden datura fruit !

(Datura is a genus of nine species of highly poisonous, vespertine-flowering plants belonging to the nightshade family. They are commonly known as thornapples or jimsonweeds, but are also known as devil's trumpets. Other English common names include moonflower, devil's weed, and hell's bells.)

main sharmaya, .. I was ashamed mera jhoot pakda gaya ,.. my lie was caught mujhe apne par aashcharya hua, .. I was filled with wonder , kyunki maine apni ankhein kholkar .. because I had with my open eyes kadamb ka phool apni mutthiyon mein liya tha । .. taken the kadamb flower in my clenched fists !

shayad mai apni bhavatishayata mein ।.. perhaps in the belief of my aatma , the self , the soul kante ko phool samjha, .. I thought the thorns to be a flower par kaanta , kaanta hi kaise reh gaya , .. but how did the thorn , remain a thorn phool kyun nahin bana , .. why did it not become a flower usnein toh ek kavi ka rakt piya tha । .. it had consumed the blood of a poet !!

the word भावा ति शय यता , bhavatishayyata seems to have been taken from a form of the mention in the scriptures of Hindu philosophy, saints and religion , which is why i believe it refers to his aatma, his soul , his inner .. perhaps a more 'cultured way' 😁 of expressing his thoughts ..

DATURA

KADAMB .. CADAMBA 👆🏼

My love and more ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[dulcesiabits]

i’ve become the villain’s lover!

summary: You have the worst luck in the entire world to be transmigrated into a novel as some faceless side character, where the most notorious villains in the story won’t leave you alone. (ft. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus).

notes: 12k words, scenario, fluff, mentions of violence, reader gets injured once, heavily based on my love of cheesy isekai/reincarnation/villainess manhwa 

All of your problems started with the book your friend lent you.

You didn’t even want to read it at first, but you took the copy because she wouldn’t stop pestering you and spamming you with texts. The title—I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!—was embossed gold, and the cover picture had seven beautiful men lounging around a woman with brown hair, the woman gazing wistfully into the distance. In short, it was so cheesy it sent chills down your back.

You really weren’t going to read it. But that summer night was hot and humid and you had nothing better to do than stare at the television and stir around your half-melted ice cream. So when you saw the book on the edge of the kitchen counter, you thought, why not? and opened it up.

If it was bad, you would stop after a few pages. But the television kept droning on as you read, and your forgotten ice cream was now melted slush in its bowl, and soon you were halfway through the story.

The premise itself was simple enough: the heroine, Hera Winn, was the treasured daughter of a down on his luck baron. He sent her to the city to make her debut, and after a series of mishaps, she ended up running into the crown prince, Malleus Draconia, who fell in love at first sight. However, the crown prince was feared by his subjects, and rumors swirled around about his fearsome power and his family. To make matters worse, six other men fall in love with Hera. The cherry on top? All seven men were notorious villains, feared by people far and wide for their cruelty.

You were still a few chapters away from the ending when your eyes started drooping; it was impossible to keep them open, even though you were dying to text your friend. It was deliciously bad, in an over-the-top and campy way, and you appreciated how self-indulgent the author was. Seriously, why would seven villains even fall for an ordinary person? It was way too contrived.

Whatever. You could call her tomorrow.

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you found yourself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Oh no. No way. This wasn’t what you thought it was, was it?

Conveniently, there was a hand mirror next to you, and when you stared into the frame, the face of a stranger stared back at you.

Your worst fears had come true. You’d transmigrated into I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!

Shit. You were never going to read another book in your life.

Luckily (or unluckily), you’d become some no-name extra. You didn’t even show up in the story, so as long as you kept your head down and stayed away from the main characters and their messy love affairs, you’d have a nice, happy life. 

Hey, maybe you could even use your knowledge of the story to make some good cash. You might as well make the best of whatever had happened to you.

The extra you’d transmigrated as lived alone, and had a decently nice house. When you had the chance to dig around the items in the house, you found out that they didn’t really have any hobbies other than reading and gardening. They also had a job working at the local bakery, judging from their planner, so you wouldn’t be lacking in money for now. You settled around the house, and spent a week or two getting used to your new life.

One night, you were getting ready to prepare dinner when you heard a thunk against your back door. Picking up one of your pans to use as a weapon, you cautiously opened the door only to be greeted with the sight of a man bleeding out on your back porch, his eyes closed and face pale. Oh no. You had to help him-- and then you promptly slammed the door shut once you realized who it was: Riddle Rosehearts, the grand duke. But more importantly, he was one of the villainous love interests in the story, and you really had no interest in getting involved in any of that. But then again-- you would also get in trouble if you let someone so powerful bleed to death on your back porch. So with a tired sigh, you opened the door to figure out how to save Riddle’s life.

When Riddle woke up, he reacted about as well as you expected him to react to his savior. He demanded to know who you were, asking what happened and what you did to him, and his hand was curled to cast some nasty fire spells at you if he deemed you a threat: in short, it was a warm welcome, considering he didn’t immediately start with burning you to a crisp.

After you managed to convince him that you weren’t a threat, he settled back into bed with a groan, and you spent the next few days nursing him back to health. After all, he showed up with a stab wound in his abdomen, and you were surprised he even made it to your door. The first few times he flinched whenever you touched him, but he gradually grew used to your touch. In fact, you realized he unconsciously nuzzled into your hand when you checked his temperature, but you were saving that revelation for a day he particularly annoyed you.

Riddle was not the best patient in the world-- he kept track of his own symptoms and checked on his wounds without your help, and he made a list of very specific herbs he wanted you to get from the apothecary. You suspected he still had trouble trusting your intentions in the first few days. Still, that didn’t stop you from falling asleep by his bedside keeping a watch on him (hm? You’re sure you didn’t have a blanket covering your shoulders before you fell asleep) and feeding him spoonfuls of porridge (partly because you didn’t want to take any chances with his wounds, and partly because you thought it was cute how embarrassed he got).

When Riddle was well enough to stand up on his own, you expected him to leave and go back to his dukedom, so you could also continue on with your life. But then he announced he was going to use your house as a hideout from the dukedom traitors who tried to literally and figuratively stab him in the back. Oh, no way-- but then Riddle added that he’d reward you generously if you cooperated, and you’d never been more than happy to offer him your spare room (or offer for him to keep using it, in this case). Somehow the two of you settled into a familiar routine. You went out to work in the mornings, bringing home leftovers from the bakery that didn’t manage to get sold during the day. Riddle managed the finances and handled any paperwork you gave him. He insisted he couldn’t just sit around waiting for you at home with nothing to do, and, well, he was extremely adept with boring, complicated matters. The two of you also tried to cook and clean together. He was absolutely hopeless at it though, and you had to hide a laugh when he tried to dump salt instead of sugar in your cookies.

He was surprisingly sweet. Maybe it was because he was reliant on your goodwill, but in the story, Riddle was a strict, arrogant ruler who imposed his rules with an iron fist over his subjects. The slightest hint of disobedience would have him personally visiting the offending person and making an example out of them in public... which was what probably led to people rebelling against him and trying to oust him from power. You could see hints of that imperious man show through; when he ordered you to do something, he expected you to do it without hesitation. Whenever you refused or talked back, you could see a vein in his forehead twitch.

Still, he seemed to respect you enough to back down when you stood firm in your decisions. He was easy to tease and easy to fluster, though you hoped that wouldn’t come to bite you in the ass when Riddle went to take back the dukedom. He jumped when you stood too close to him, blushed when you casually placed a hand on his shoulder, and he was always at the door to welcome you home in the evenings. He’d become a lot more fond of you than you ever expected, and you had to admit you had a soft spot for him, too. His eyes lit up when you brought home new pastries for him to try, and you noticed that he’d sometimes watch you gently when you walked around the house, though he looked away when you tried to catch him in the act.

One time, he came downstairs when you were dozing on the couch, and his footsteps woke you up. You waited to see what Riddle would do as you pretended to be asleep, curious as to what he got up to when you weren’t around. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull a blanket over you, muttering about how careless you were as he smoothed it down. His hand lingered near your own, so close you can feel the heat emanating from it, and you heard the couch creak as he bent closer to you, his hair brushing your face... and then he left abruptly, leaving you to wonder what he had been planning on doing.

Your cohabitation came to an end abruptly when Riddle told you that he planned to go back to the dukedom. You sent him off with some provisions and a tart you sneaked from the bakery, but Riddle lingered at the door, his face puckered up as if he was conflicted on something. You were going to tease him for how wrinkled his forehead was when he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, promising that he’d come back for you if everything went well. He ran off before you could give him a response, but you were too open-mouthed to even think of one, anyways.

Several weeks passed, and you were sure Riddle had forgotten you. It was none of your business if things went well for him or not (though you had read in the newspapers that he had miraculously returned and rather brutally dealt with the traitors). You were content to just spend the days peacefully between your house and the bakery. Of course, just when you thought everything was going well, Riddle’s top retainers—Cater, Trey, Ace and Deuce—showed up at your door with a letter from Riddle. They wouldn’t leave until you penned a response, but it took you several minutes to reorient yourself after reading what was basically a confession of love and an invitation to become Riddle’s spouse.

Okay. Okay, you had no idea how on earth this had happened; when had Riddle fallen in love with you? Had all the domestic shenanigans affected him more deeply than you thought? So you failed in your initial plan and had gotten involved with a villain, but you definitely were not going to get involved any farther than this. You liked Riddle more than you expected, but his list of enemies was a mile long, and you were not eager to get involved with any of the political maneuvering he did. Also, marriage seemed like a huge commitment after you had only known him for a few weeks. So you sent him a polite rejection, thinking that would be the end... only for Trey to conveniently be sent to “inspect” your town, or Ace to be waiting for you to walk you home when Riddle was too busy to accompany you himself. Riddle never stepped over any boundaries you set, but it was clear he had not lost an ounce of interest in you.

Still, you enjoyed your peaceful life and you were not in any hurry to change anything, not when you had made friends with a few regular customers and the store owners whose stores you frequented. Everything was seemingly going well until you ventured to the market one day to buy groceries. Unfortunately, just after you finished bargaining for some carrots, you heard some commotion from behind you. A hooded man was being chased by town guards, and passerby were either running out of their way or being mowed down if they were too slow, shopkeepers grumbling as they rearranged their broken wares. Well, that was unfortunate, but it was none of your business! At least it was none of your business until the hooded man ran straight at you and grabbed your arm, pulling you in front of him. He snarled at the guards to back off, or you were going to suffer the consequences. All you could think of were two things: one, your basket of food was now rolling across the cobblestones and you were pissed, and two, you had caught a flash of the man under the hood, and you knew who it was. Leona Kingscholar, the infamous second prince of the neighboring kingdom, and another villainous love interest.

Leona didn’t let you go until you were both far away from the guards, who were reluctant to let an innocent civilian get caught in the mix. When you were far from town, he unceremoniously tossed you aside and told you to scram. Maybe you should have just done what he said and let that be the last of your involvement with him, but god, you were starving and he just sent your dinner rolling across the market roads. So, because you were insane, you decided your best course of action would be to threaten him.

Out of all the love interests, Leona wasn’t the worst to deal with, he was just the most temperamental. Despite his strength and cunning, his indolent nature hindered him from being an asset to his kingdom... or so he led everyone to believe. Due to your knowledge of the story, you knew Leona actually desired the throne and had made numerous schemes and backhand deals in order to get the chance to steal it. No crime was off the table if it meant he got his hands on the one thing he’d always been denied. Well, well, wouldn’t it be a shame if someone who knew all the details of his plans were to leak it to someone, like, say, the local guards? You knew just where to find the evidence to back up your claims, too.

Reluctantly, Leona bought you dinner, and because he’s a prince, you milked his wallet for all it was worth. You didn’t doubt he’d send someone to watch you or potentially assassinate you if he deemed you a big enough risk, but that was okay, because you could count on your new buddy Duke Rosehearts to keep you safe. And you were sure to let Leona know that, too, because who wanted to mess with one of the most influential men in the kingdom? Could Leona really afford to start a diplomatic mess at this point?

That should be that, but of course your life wasn’t that easy. You had no one to blame but yourself for deciding to get involved with Leona. The very next day, you found Leona in your kitchen, casually demanding you make him some breakfast because he was hungry. Since you were such an unprecedented variable in his plans, he was going to be keeping a close eye on you before deciding whether he was going to let you live. Well, if Leona was going to be mooching off of you, the least he could do was pay rent and help with some of the chores.

It wasn’t easy living with him. He was worse than Riddle, because at least Riddle tried to help you once he warmed up to you. Leona expected you to do everything by yourself. Occasionally he would do the dishes once you made enough pointed comments about turning him in, or sweep the floors when you started waving the broom around like it was a deadly weapon. More often than not, he was passed out on the couch when you left for work and still passed out when you came home. He would wake up when you finished making dinner, getting up just in time to eat, which made you suspect he wasn’t as defenseless as he presented himself (and that meant you should probably toss your idea of drawing on his face out the window).

The two of you did not get along whatsoever. Neither of you could go several hours without making some sort of snide remark at each other, and every conversation felt like a battle of its own. Leona often commented that he wasn’t sure whether you were bold or stupid, but it wasn’t often someone tried to challenge him like this. He almost sounded like he enjoyed that fact. Maybe he found you entertaining, but it wasn’t like he was scary to you; you knew too much about the story for that.

Sometimes, he was gone for several days at a time, or came home at odd hours. Somehow, your house had turned into his unofficial hideout. You didn’t know what he was up to, and you didn’t care to find out. At the very least, he started walking you to places when your schedules coincided (something about being careful, because his enemies might have figured out his location? You were not going to ask about that). He would then watch as you bartered for groceries (you tended to get better discounts when he was around, because people were intimidated by his glare), or helped you pick up heavy ingredients for the bakery. Sometimes he would even hold your bags... only after you annoyed him with your loud, dramatic complaints over the weight of them.

After a while, the banter between the two of you turned from biting to something almost affectionate. You couldn’t pinpoint when things started to change, but perhaps living together for so long had softened the both of you up. You didn’t expect him to be nice, but he started to make things a bit easier for you. He gave you nice jewelry to either sell or keep for your personal use. And he started napping on your bed, pulling you in to cuddle him when you complained you needed to sleep for the night and he was in your way. He was a clingy sleeper and kept you in his arms until the morning. When the two of you went out together, he had a habit of reaching for your hand, because Leona claimed you looked like you’d get lost or tricked by some shady salesman otherwise.

And, well, when someone tried to threaten you on an evening walk with Leona, he pounced on them before they could so much as finish raising their knife at you. After Leona had finished, ah, dealing with that person, he turned to you tensely, looking you up and down and raising one hand to touch your cheek so gently you didn’t know what to do other than nod when he asked if you were okay. For the rest of the evening, Leona didn’t let you out of his sight and held you tighter than usual in bed that night.

One day, Ruggie and Jack, his trusted right-hand men, came to take him back to his kingdom for some scheme or another. Much like the first time Leona came over, they were standing in your kitchen when you woke up in the morning (maybe you should teach them how to knock on a door, or invest in stronger locks). Ruggie asked Leona what he planned to do with you, and Leona simply gave you a smirk, one arm possessively pulling you by the waist so you almost fell into his lap. Well, he was much too fond of you to let you go now, so he’d just have to take you back with him to his kingdom.

Your only question was: why? Sure, the two of you had been getting along recently, but you didn’t expect his feelings to take on a more romantic turn. And, sure, you were fond of him, too, but Leona had big plans, and you didn’t want to paint a target on your back. Besides, you weren’t ready to be a part of royalty and deal with all the responsibility that entailed. Leona listened to your reasoning with more grace than you expected... and then, on the spot, decided to conveniently create a hideout in town. He wouldn’t be living in your house anymore, but you were still going to be seeing a lot more of him than you did before. Leona never got rid of his habit of sneaking into your house, either, and sometimes you’d come home and find him napping on your bed. Also, you swore he sent Jack or Ruggie to shadow you whenever you’re out, though they were too smart to let you catch them.

Okay, whatever. So what if you had two villains who wouldn’t leave you alone? You could handle them just fine. Besides, what were the chances you’d get involved with another one? This time, you’d built a fence around your backyard to ward off any dukes in mortal peril, and you spent some extra money to get locks for your windows (though you doubted that would actually stop anyone, not with Ace and Ruggie’s nimble fingers). Also, you were going to keep your head down, and be a good law-abiding citizen, and-- okay, why were two tall men slapping a sign labeled “foreclosure” onto the bakery door? And did the owner just walk out with a man in an elegant suit, who gave you a slimy smile when he noticed you staring? No. No way. It couldn’t be, but it was: it was Azul Ashengrotto, head of the information guild, one of the villainous love interests, and the man who just put you out of a job.

Maybe you offended some powerful deity in your last life, because your luck was downright rotten. You really had no choice but to get involved with Azul this time, because you were not ready to go job-hunting just yet. Who else would be nice enough to give you free food, anyways?

Azul was your friend’s favorite character, and you only vaguely understood why. He was intelligent, handsome, and charming, sure, but he was also two-faced, manipulative and had committed numerous backdoor deals to achieve his position as head of the guild. He was one of the most dangerous men in the world, and someone not to be crossed at all costs. After all, he had eyes and ears all over the place, and was the man to go to if you wanted dirt on anyone. And while he could grant whatever wish you wanted, if you were unable to hold up your end of the deal, then you would end up in pieces at the bottom of the sea.

Underneath all of that, Azul was someone who had clawed his way up from the bottom of the social hierarchy, and would go to any lengths to cover up his past. While you briefly entertained the thought of blackmailing Azul with his secret, you figured it wasn’t worth it when Azul could just order Jade and Floyd, his favorite assistants and bodyguards, to toss you into the sea instead. Unfortunately, you didn’t hold the same leverage over him as you had with Leona. So, that only left you with one real choice: time to figure out why your employer was being put out of business.

Your boss, as it turned out, had signed a contract with Azul. In exchange for a generous loan to start the bakery, your boss was supposed to pay back the loan with a seemingly reasonable interest. Of course, it was actually a predatory deal where the amount of interest being charged was ridiculously high and guaranteed to sink your boss into a never-ending chain of debt. So, what real choice did you have but to try to make a deal with Azul yourself? If worse came to worse, you could probably throw Leona’s influence around, even if it meant Leona would demand some ridiculous fee from you in return.

That was how you found yourself working for Azul as his so-called secretary until you could pay off your boss’s loans. Though he acted generous and kind on the surface, he pushed you hard and expected you to put in overtime without complaint, dangling your precarious situation over your head any time you protested. You acted as the face of the organization, dealing with more normal customers (because, as Azul put it, you didn’t stand out whatsoever and would be perfect for the position) and helping sort through Azul’s less secretive contacts and papers. Eventually, you moved your way up to organizing his schedule, and sometimes he even let you talk with his clients in his place when he was particularly busy.

You couldn’t pin Azul down, but you knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t be able to trust him. You knew the deal you took was shady as hell, liable to blow up in your face at any time, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. If you tried to ask him a question that wasn’t directly related to work, he deflected. In the beginning of your time at his guild, the Leech twins would randomly pop in to check on you, watching you work with unnerving stares. Eventually, they got bored enough they would chat with you sometimes.

As loath as you were to admit it, Azul was not a bad boss. Sure, he expected a lot out of you, but if you rose to his expectations, then you were properly rewarded in return. Somewhere down the line, it felt like Azul started being more open with you... or as open as a man could be in his position. He never overworked you, and though his interest in your health started off as a logical investment, at some point, it started to take on a more... personal bent. He ensured you were eating enough (and maybe cooked you a meal himself), and even provided a room in his guild for when you stayed too late to be able to return home safely. He was always trying to convince you to sleep over instead of going back home, too.

You learned to toe the line with Azul, because if you got at least one reaction out of him, you might be closer to figuring him out. You sat on the edge of Azul’s desk as you delivered your reports, and sometimes it felt like he leaned closer to you. You teased and prodded at him verbally, but he always returned your remarks with a genial smile and brushed off your words. In fact, the closest you got to flustering him was when you told him he looked cute, which led to him dropping all the papers in his arms. Really, you wondered why he let you get away with provoking him, because your moves always got bolder the less he reprimanded you.

Sometimes you thought Azul was observing you as much as you were observing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch him staring at you, but whenever you turned around to check, he’d always be buried in one document or the other, though his ears were bright red. But hey, a great employee perk was that Azul had started inviting you out to dinner at fancy restaurants you’d normally never be able to afford, under the excuse of “observing some potential clients.” He’d even gifted you expensive jewelry, claiming he couldn’t let his employees look unprofessional, but he was always smiling whenever he saw you wearing his necklace around the guild. Floyd and Jade had even thanked you once for making “Azul even more entertaining to be around,” whatever that meant.

And then one afternoon, Jade and Floyd asked you to come to Azul’s office. You wondered if he’d finally grown tired of having you around and wanted to get rid of you (permanently), but instead, all Azul did was hold out the contract you made with him. If he forgave all of the bakery’s debt and annulled the current contract, would you be his lover? Sure, he was planning on using you at first, but now? He didn’t think he wanted to let you go.

There had to be some sort of mistake. Azul had fallen in love with you? It had to be a record to have three villains chasing after you. Sure, you really enjoyed his company (and the great employee benefits he offered), but it didn’t feel right to enter a relationship like this. Wouldn’t it create a weird power imbalance? And again, like with Riddle and Leona, being his lover would make you a highly vulnerable target. When you explained all of this to Azul, he tore up your contract without a second thought and sent you home. You ended up back at your old job, all loans paid off, and things seemingly back to normal. However, Azul had decided to generously sponsor the bakery you worked in. He insisted on stopping by with Floyd and Jade to ensure everything was running smoothly, but all he ended up doing was finding every excuse to talk to you and stick by your side.

At this point, you’d decided to accept your fate. Every time you told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with another villain, the world would just throw one at you as if in mockery. So, fine. Since it was all out of your control, you decided you wouldn’t even worry about it anymore. One day, while you were out in town, you heard excited whispers around the square. Curious, you inquired what was happening from a group of giggly girls, and learned that Kalim Al-Asim, the richest merchant in town, was holding a party. Everyone was invited, and there was going to be free food and entertainment galore! There was no way you were going to pass up on this opportunity, especially since Kalim was one of your favorite characters in the original novel. There was one caveat, though: Jamil Viper, Kalim’s most competent advisor, was another villainous love interest. Still, you had promised yourself you were going to do whatever you wanted, and you weren’t passing up this chance to have some fun.

To call the party lavish would be an understatement. There was a veritable mountain of food, an entire orchestra, and it seemed like everyone in the country was invited. You were in the corner, sipping a drink and taking a break from dancing, when you saw Kalim laughing with some members of the nobility. You smiled at how animated he was... and then you saw it. Someone slipped something into his drink. Before you even knew what you were doing, you sprinted over and knocked the cup out of his hand as a crowd of people stared at you. Well, shit.

Honestly, what were you supposed to do? Let Kalim Al-Asim, your favorite character, die? You’d read the novel, so you knew he survived an attempted assassination at a party, but you hadn’t suspected the incident would take place here and now. You didn’t regret your decision, but you were certain one of those nobles was going to throw you into a dungeon for your disrespectful act. But then Kalim took your hands in his and asked why you did what you did. He looked earnest, and you told him the truth: you saw someone slip something into his drink.

There was an uproar following your announcement. Guards swarmed the floor, and people ran around in confusion, and at least one noble accused you of lying. You thought about escaping in the sudden disarray, because you’d already done whatever you could by telling Kalim what happened. Before you could even take one step, Kalim thrust you into the arms of someone behind you, yelling at them to take care of you while he handled the situation. You turned around... and met the face of Jamil Viper, who looked less than thrilled by Kalim’s words.

In the novel, Jamil was Kalim’s childhood friend, and his family had been a vassal to the Al-Asims since the founding of the kingdom. Though Kalim saw Jamil as his most trusted retainer and loyal friend, Jamil was less than pleased with his lot in life. He would be forced to work in the shadows forever, doing all of the dirty work that kept Kalim safe in the sunlight. You remembered how many fans had loved their complicated dynamic, and how Jamil struggled with his decision to betray Kalim, who was still his childhood friend. Still, it was something you’d rather read about than be caught in the middle of. Right now, Jamil was appraising you, trying to determine your potential value as a piece in his numerous plans. You wondered what he would do if he found you lacking.

Without another word, Jamil dragged you with him as he calmed people down and directed the guards. He was terrifyingly competent, but he kept an iron grip on your wrist the entire time. By the time the commotion died down, Jamil took you to meet Kalim, who was waiting for you in a lavish parlor. As Kalim explained it, you had luckily foiled some assassin’s plans, but now there was the possibility you could be in danger. He earnestly grasped your hands and asked if you’d stay in his manor until they caught whoever did this. It wasn’t like you were going to refuse, but with the way Jamil glared at you, you didn’t think you had a choice in the first place. Kalim may have wanted you to stay out of the goodness of his heart, but it was clear Jamil didn’t trust you at all.

Your life in the Asim manor wasn’t that bad, to be honest. Everyone was generally friendly, even though you were expected to wake up at the crack of dawn to follow Jamil around so he could “keep an eye on you.” You ended up helping him with his assignments, surprisingly enough. There was nothing else to do, the servants wouldn’t let you help out, and you felt an inkling of pity at the mountain of paperwork piled on his desk and the line of people who demanded his attention. Jamil tried to stop you, but it was clear he really did need the help, so he relented. It was a good thing your time with Azul prepared you for assistant work, so you were efficient at organizing papers and managing people, marking down any important meetings or documents that required his immediate attention. You heard more than one servant giggle about how Jamil didn’t let just anyone follow him, so you must be very special (yeah, special because he thought you were connected to the person threatening Kalim’s life).

Still, despite his apparent dislike of you, and the fact he was almost as much of a hardass as Azul, Jamil acknowledged when you did a good job with a hand on your head. He never told you that he appreciated your help, but you got the sense that he did when he told you to take a break or asked a servant to prepare your favorite drink. The two of you really started to grow closer after you saw him paralyzed in the corner of his office one afternoon when you were bringing in some reports. You thought something was wrong... only for Jamil to point at a caterpillar crawling on his desk. You brought it outside on a piece of paper, and Jamil swore you to secrecy on his phobia. After that, you were the one he went to when he needed someone to dispose of any insects flying too close to him. It was honestly pretty cute, and you weren’t above teasing him by pretending there was a bug on his shoulder when Jamil was being overbearing.

Sometimes, you caught him in the kitchen, whipping up meals for Kalim. This way, he explained, Kalim wouldn’t have to use a poison taster. Jamil would offer you a sip of the soup or wipe off a smear of flour that’d gotten on your face. You’d swing your legs as you sat on the counter and watched him work. The two of you chatted idly, and you were always surprised at how easily conversation flowed with him: you got the feeling Jamil never had the opportunity to take off his mask and reveal his meaner, conniving side very often. And, well, maybe you noticed that he laughed when he was with you, more often than he did with anyone else.

Despite your role as his temporary assistant, Jamil never let you attend any of his important meetings. You were then left to hang out with Kalim, who was more than happy to make room for you in his schedule, or to wait for Jamil to finish. Today, Jamil was meeting with a trade partner, so you opted to wait for him, because Kalim was busy entertaining the rest of the guest’s party. Everything had been so quiet, you’d forgotten that someone was targeting both your and Kalim’s lives. It wasn’t until you were waving your hand in greeting at Jamil, who’d just finished his meeting, and you saw a look of genuine fear pass over Jamil’s face as something sharp struck your back, that you realized, oh. This wasn’t just a novel anymore, was it? It was your life, and the last thing you saw before you passed out was Jamil running toward you.

In the infirmary, when you woke up, you realized Jamil was holding your hand tightly, sleeping on a chair next to your bed. Kalim was there too, his face streaked with tears as he whispered that he was glad you were okay. An assassin had shot you with a poisoned arrow, but they had caught him, and now they knew the location of the group who had been attempting to assassinate Kalim. Jamil had carried you in his arms to the infirmary and had refused to leave your side for even a moment. You were safe now, but Kalim had to take care of some more business, so rest up, and he’d come see you again.

When Kalim left and you turned to look at Jamil, you saw that he was awake now... or had he been awake the whole time Kalim was talking? Regardless, Jamil looked at you so tenderly it took your breath away. He asked if you would stay with him forever, so he could protect you and dispose of any fool who tried to hurt you, starting with the assassins who had dared to lay a hand on you.

Honestly, it was a lot to take in after you had just woken up from an attempt on your life. You really had grown to care for Jamil, but you weren’t ready for further near-death experiences, especially when you knew the treasonous thoughts Jamil harbored would put him in danger. And while Jamil may be a villain, he was not a terrible guy. When you refused his offer, he let you go with little fuss. Of course, that was not going to be the last you saw of him, because when had your life ever been easy? The very next morning, you found Jamil casually perusing the bakery’s goods, telling you that Kalim had suddenly become very, very fond of the pastries here, and that Jamil was going to be stopping by daily to pick up Kalim’s orders. He would appreciate it if you helped him with that. The way Jamil phrased it, though, made it sound like more of a date than an official visit.

Fortunately, the next few weeks went by smoothly (if you didn’t include the men that kept vying for your attention with increasingly convoluted plans). You were mostly just healing from your injuries while Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil used that as an excuse to visit you and lavish gifts upon you. One day, there was a knock on the bakery door as you were about to close up, and you found a very beautiful man around your age standing outside. His name was Epel, and he wanted to work for room and board. The name struck warning bells in your head. When you took a closer look, you noticed that underneath his worn cloak his clothes looked finely tailored; he was obviously a noble, but why would a noble want a job? When you pressed Epel for answers, he hesitated, before admitting that he’d run away from home, but he wasn’t originally a nobleman, so he wouldn’t be useless at all! And then it hit you all at once: Epel was the heir and protege of Vil Schoenheit, an infamously beautiful marquess, and the fifth villainous love interest. You could turn him away, but you couldn’t say no to his puppy dog eyes and the exhaustion plain on his face, could you? So Epel took the spare room in your house, and you braced yourself for the inevitable encounter with Vil.

A few days passed with no incidents. Epel was a wonderful roommate (far better than Riddle and Leona) as he knew how to cook and clean and did his fair share of chores. It was a bonus, you privately thought, that you had more customers than usual because of Epel’s pretty face. The two of you had become fast friends when one morning, a fancy carriage stopped outside your bakery, and in strode a hooded nobleman and his retainer. One toss of the nobleman’s hood revealed Vil Schoenheit, a scowl on his beautiful face as he stared Epel down. He’d come to take Epel home, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, even as Epel glared at him right back.

Despite the fact you knew the root of their antagonism, you still never wanted to be dropped right in the middle of it. The tension was so heavy you wanted to make excuses and leap for the break room. Still, it was hard to tear your gaze away from Vil’s face; a written description really couldn’t do justice to the most beautiful man you had ever seen, even though he barely spared you at glance.

It was almost funny that despite his appearance, Vil hadn’t been born into nobility; no, his father married into it, and despite all the gossip and rumors about their common origins (and Vil’s uncanny talent with poisons), he had clawed his way to the top of high society, bringing fame to the Schoenheit name. He had made it... until his seat was stolen by Neige LeBlanche, the new darling of the noble world. One day, while on a trip, Vil had spotted Epel working as a farmhand and, intrigued by the potential he saw in him, he made Epel his heir and protege. Epel was only several years younger than him, and accepted the offer on the condition that Vil would support his family. Epel, in return, was to help Vil overthrow Neige so Vil’s family could regain their previous prestige. It was supposed to be a foolproof plan, but was made impossible by their clashing personalities and stubbornness.

Really, you knew why Vil acted the way he did, but that didn’t mean you were just going to stand there and let him drag away Epel when your friend looked miserable. When you stepped in between the two of them, Vil finally took a look at you. You could see the gears turning in his head as Epel pulled you back and yelled at Vil not to do anything to you. You could hardly believe the words that came out when Vil opened his mouth: perhaps Epel would have an incentive to try harder at his various lessons on the nobility if he had a friend to accompany him in the manor. It sounded like an awful idea to you, but Epel’s eyes lit up immediately. You liked Epel, yeah, but you hadn’t even known him for that long, and you had a social (?) life-- Vil offered to reward you generously for your time and you immediately headed back home to pack.

When you got to the manor, you started to suspect Vil should have added ‘family counselor’ to the description of his initial offer. Most of the time it felt like you were acting as mediator in Epel and Vil’s relationship and trying to get the two to compromise on at least one thing before the manor burst into flames from their heated glares. You’ve had to deal with testy personalities before (getting your friends/suitors/villainous acquaintances not to strangle each other is a feat in and of itself), but whenever Epel gripped your arm and yelled that the two of you were going to run away, Vil would turn his disapproval in your direction, and you could see him considering whenever he should poison you or not.

Your relationship with Vil was... frosty, to say the least. You were only there to serve as motivation for Epel, and outside of that, he didn’t pay you any attention. You barely got to see him because he was so busy with his work. If you needed anything, then you would just have to talk to Rook, Vil’s right hand man and retainer. At least everyone in the manor was under the order to make your stay as comfortable as possible, so Vil was looking out for you in his own way... or he just didn’t want to ruin his reputation by being seen as a horrible host.

Really, you expected to wind up only distant acquaintances with Vil. At least you did until the evening Vil visited you with an envelope in his hand and asked you to accompany him to a party as his partner. Swarms of pesky suitors kept knocking on his door, and he was getting a headache dealing with all of them. So why not play the part of his lover while you stayed in the manor? He’d make sure you were properly compensated for this as well, of course. You had no reason to refuse after that, but the party ended up being a bit of a disaster. You couldn’t keep up with all of the nobles questioning you, and it was only due to Vil’s smooth-talking that you didn’t fall flat on your face. Vil had prepped you on what to say, but a bit of practice was nothing compared to all those judgemental eyes on you.

After that horrible first party, the two of you opted to spend more time getting to know each other in order to make the ruse a success. You ate dinner together every night and would spend at least an hour talking and getting to know each other. Something you hadn’t expected was how attentive Vil was. You only needed to vaguely mention you got cold at night and the next thing you knew there was a roaring fire and piles of fluffy blankets in your room. You didn’t even realize Vil knew anything about you until he had your favorite meals served during dinner, or your favorite flowers planted in the gardens when you went out on walks.

The two of you went around town on so-called dates to really reinforce the deception. You dined on a variety of fine foods you would normally never be able to afford, and Vil seemed to smile at your enthusiasm, even as he scolded you over your table manners. You held onto his arm, and he would point out nobles in the streets and all the pertinent information you should know about them. He was clever, and it was hard not to be swept up in his pace, not when you saw firsthand how hard he worked for his goals. He would gift you with clothing and tell you not to worry over the expense; Vil couldn’t have his so-called lover looking shabby, could he?

It didn’t stop there. When you popped up during Epel’s ballroom dancing lessons, Vil had you dance with him to show Epel how the steps looked, his grip on you secure the whole time. And he never put you in an uncomfortable situation; the second you showed any hesitation to keep mingling with pushy nobles, he left the ballroom early, or led you onto the balcony to catch your breath. When you were cold, he would pull his cloak around you without another word, his gloved hand warming yours. He played the part of lover so well, and looked at you so tenderly, there were times you forgot this was simply fake. When did the distance between the two of you shrink? When did you start enjoying your time together, and when did he start seeking you out during his every spare moment?

One morning, during a stroll in the gardens together, Vil took your hand in his and kissed the back of yours. You were so stunned you almost missed him asking if you wanted to make your engagement official. He hadn’t expected to fall for you this hard, and Epel adored you, so why not become a Schoenheit yourself?

It was funny to you that this was the second time you had been proposed to by a member of the nobility. And from two villains, no less, who hadn’t known you very long in the grand scheme of things. Still, you didn’t think you could handle staying in high society and fighting verbal battles for the rest of your life. When you turned Vil down (THE most eligible bachelor in high society), he only hummed and said he respected your decision. However, you discovered soon after that Vil had bought a vacation home close to your town in an effort to help Epel acclimate to urban life even though there were much bigger towns out there. You found yourself bumping into Vil far too often to be a coincidence, and you wondered if he asked his retainer, Rook, to keep tabs on you. Vil seemed to look more and more beautiful each time you saw him, to the point he might start blinding people if he wasn’t careful.

After your exhausting trip to Vil’s manor, all you wanted to do was rest and catch up with your friends. You had even missed your villainous associates/suitors, weirdly enough. You were sort of friends with them too, right? But that was beside the point. You had no doubt that another villain would stumble onto your path sooner or later. There were only two more you had yet to meet, and you wanted to enjoy what peace you had before the sixth one landed on your doorstep. Well, you should have known better by now than to jinx yourself, because the very next morning, you found a shivering, hooded man being pushed around by some local goons. After you scared them off by yelling for the guards, you went up to the man to see what you could do to help him... only to come face to face with Idia Shroud, magical genius and sixth villainous love interest. Oh, great.

You contemplated leaving Idia to his fate on the streets, but the way he looked so nervous and out of place tugged at your heart. He gave off the impression of a soaking wet cat, and you’d always been fond of animals. Besides, he had ‘easy mark’ written all over him, and despite his magical prowess, you were pretty sure he’d be targeted by another thief before long. So with a sigh, you started cleaning out your spare guest room for him (which had seen far too much use lately). Idia didn’t talk the whole time you walked home with him, and didn’t even give you a thanks when you offered him a mug of hot tea. Still, it didn’t bother you too much, not when you knew his past.

In the novel, Idia was a once in a century genius, born to a long line of talented mages, who’d practiced magic since the founding of the kingdom. It was pretty much guaranteed he would take over the magic tower, the central source of authority for mages all over the country, just like his parents before him. However, the Shrouds were infamous due to a curse on their family: no one was sure who first cast the curse (a god, some whispered), but the Shrouds were cursed with misfortune. Nothing ever went right for them, and they would never be happy. Idia was a prime example of this. His parents kept their distance from him, and Idia’s little brother, Ortho, died in an accident. In his grief, Idia created a homunculus using forbidden magic who looked and acted like Ortho. Ever since the original Ortho’s death, Idia had locked himself up in the tower to conduct research and stew in his grief. Of course, he was still a formidable mage who had no qualms about striking down anyone who got in his way, experimenting with dark magic and blatantly refusing any request unless it struck his interest.

For once, you were frustrated that you hadn’t finished the book before you were transmigrated. If you had, then you would know the solution to Idia’s curse. At any rate, you were certain the way to end the curse had to do with the heroine (wasn’t that how it always went with romance stories?) but... weirdly enough, you hadn’t seen her around anywhere, or even heard word of the crown prince being engaged. Well, you would try to keep an eye out for her, and hope that Hera meeting Idia would do something about his curse.

It didn’t surprise you one ounce that Idia basically holed himself up in your guest room as soon as possible. He refused to talk about what he was doing here, his past, or much of anything at all, for that matter. He only muttered that he would pay you for rent and his share of the food, and then kept the door firmly locked. Sometimes he would slide you some extra money along with a little note of magical ingredients he wanted you to pick up.

Idia wasn’t the worst roommate in the world; the two of you left each other well enough alone. Still, it got a little boring to sit by yourself in the living room when you heard him tinkering with some invention or the other in his room. You ended up sliding little notes to him under the door, sometimes accompanied by a doodle. You knew he read them, but you never got a response back. It became a habit, actually. You would slide a note under his door before work and then be on your way.

But one day, you got a response. You had simply asked what he wanted for dinner before you left for your shift in the morning, and in the evening, there was a reply waiting right outside his door. “Something sweet,” he had written. You smiled, a bit delighted that he finally replied. From then on, the two of you started exchanging notes. It gave you something to look forward to in the evenings; when you got home, there would be a piece of paper waiting for you outside Idia’s door. The notes eventually turned into letters, and it felt like you had a pen pal... even though he was only living several feet away from you.

Idia slowly opened up over the course of your correspondence. He was surprisingly blunt and even a bit smug, though you made sure to tease him in return for every snarky line he wrote. He had run away from home because he didn’t want to take over the family business. He appreciated you letting him stay here, but wasn’t it sort of foolish to house a random stranger in your own home? (You had to reply that wasn’t it foolish of him to just follow you home with no idea of your intentions?)

One day, when you came home, you found no note by his door. You knocked on it worriedly, before you heard Idia’s voice for the first time in ages: “come in.” And so you did. Idia was sitting on his bed, looking down, and began mumbling something so fast you couldn’t hear him. You got the gist of it, though; he had cast some spells on your house in order to fortify its protections. If anyone with ill intentions, like a thief, tried to set foot inside, they would immediately be frozen stiff. And there was now an alarm system in place, and... his voice trailed off, and you told him that you were grateful for what he had done, which caused his hair to flare bright and pink.

After that, though the two of you still passed notes, Idia started venturing outside of his room more often. You could find him on the couch reading when you got home from work, or skulking in the kitchen, tinkering with the appliances which he called “horrendously outdated.” You even started eating dinner together, and it was nice having company, though Idia always retreated back to his room afterwards. You were now allowed to come into his room and examine his makeshift workshop, though you had to give Idia advance warning.

One evening, there was a knock on your door. When you got up to answer it, Idia cowering in the kitchen, you found a little boy on your doorstep. His name was Ortho, and he had come to take Idia home. Idia refused on the spot, though when Ortho looked close to crying and asked if Idia wouldn’t come home because of him, Idia rushed over to hug and comfort him. It was decided that Ortho would stay with the two of you and function as Idia’s assistant. With the arrival of his little brother, Idia admitted his true identity to you. You pretended to be shocked and promised you wouldn’t think of Idia any differently.

Ortho was extremely helpful; he did Idia’s share of the chores, and even knew how to cook, though you refused to let him do too much work. Homunculus or not, he was still ten years old. Idia tended to venture outside of his room more now that Ortho was there, and sometimes the three of you would play games together after dinner. Ortho was adorable... but he also seemed determined to set you up with his big brother. He always found some method to get the two of you alone for extended periods of time, or kept very loudly and obviously talking up all of Idia’s good points.

It was cute, even if it was a little troublesome at times. One of Ortho’s attempts led to the two of you being locked out in the garden. You gave Idia your coat in case he got cold... and then he took your hand in his. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, and started speaking so fast you had to ask him to repeat several of his sentences. Still, what Idia ended up confessing was that he had fallen in love with you, and that he was planning on finding a way to end the curse because he didn’t want something bad to happen to you. Would you be willing to wait for him until then?

Really, what could you do, other than squeeze his hands and tell him not to be a stranger? You would help him however you could! Of course, you were open about the five other men who were very energetically vying for your attention, and the fact you were reluctant to get into a relationship. Idia seemed a bit relieved at that (though you swore you heard him mutter an insult or two about the other villains), and said that was fine. The two of you could sort out your business on your own time. So Idia moved back home with Ortho, though the two of you still kept in constant contact through letters. Sometimes, Idia would teleport himself directly on your doorstep because he got impatient to see you again.

So you had adopted another villain into your little group. However, now you had some time to consider what the hell was going on. Where was the heroine? You had been so distracted by the whirlwind of events around you, you had forgotten the story’s original premise. It was the heroine who was supposed to catch the eyes of all these villains, not you. What happened? She was supposed to be engaged to Malleus Draconia, but you hadn’t heard a single word about the crown prince being engaged. It was too much to think about; maybe you would try to do some research of your own instead of spinning around in circles. You decided to contact Azul for information, who promised to get back to you as soon as he could. One day, while waiting, you realized there was a new hooded customer in your bakery, someone who looked a little lost as he glanced around all the baked goods. You headed over to explain things to him, and as you did, your eyes froze on his. Green, with slit pupils... the only one who had eyes like that was... oh. Oh, no way. This was the final villainous love interest, and the male lead: Malleus Draconia, the crown prince.

What the heck was Malleus doing in your bakery? You racked your brain, and remembered that he had a habit of sneaking out of the castle in the story. It was funny that as soon as you had started to look into the heroine, he appeared in front of you. Maybe this could be a good way to look into where the heroine went. The story had already gone off course because of your presence, you knew that, but it didn’t explain why Hera hadn’t shown up.

Malleus, it turned out, was interested in the various goods you had on sale. His eyes sparkled when you told him it was all freshly baked daily, and he was eager to take the samples you offered him. It was cute how he tried to hand you a sack of gold coins for a loaf of bread, though you politely handed the entire stack back and told him only one would be enough. It made sense that he was out of touch with the world around him, though.

From the novel, you remembered that the Draconia family had founded the current kingdom, and were said to be descendants of a great dragon who once ruled the lands. They were the oldest family and had established most of the nobility, including the Rosehearts household. However, despite their legacy, the Draconias were feared precisely due to the draconic blood in their veins, which made them faster, stronger and longer-living than the average citizen. Malleus had been raised strictly in order to succeed the throne, and he rarely had time to himself. Surrounded by people with ill intentions, and always having to put his kingdom first, it was no wonder he had fallen so hard for Hera in the original story. She was the only one who treated him like a normal person, and you found their relationship surprisingly cute as they navigated the trials of being a couple. Of course, he was still a villain at the end of the day, and would have burned the world down to keep his beloved safe.

When you waved goodbye to Malleus that day, you had not expected that you would find him wandering around the markets the next evening. He looked as lost as ever, and seemed to cheer up when he noticed your presence. As you walked around to look at various goods, Malleus followed you and questioned you on the purpose of each stall. You ended up buying him some street food and a little gargoyle charm he had been eyeing. Before you parted ways for the night, Malleus grabbed your hand, asking if he could see you again. You told him to come to the bakery anytime, and that when you had an off day, you would take him around again.

Somehow, because of that, Malleus Draconia started visiting your bakery every morning, and he would even come to see you on your days off. He was a pleasant companion; the conversation between you two flowed naturally, and his naivete was charming. You would often spend time walking around, chatting idly about the town news, as Malleus drank up your every word. He was intensely curious about the mundane aspects of life in your town, but he was also curious as to your life, too. You found yourself opening up about memories from your original world, even if you were careful to phrase it in such a way that Malleus didn’t realize you were a transmigrator.

On other days, you would take him to town and watch his eyes light up at children’s toys, wandering musicians and even the cats that lazed in alleyways. You would always make sure to sample some new street food with him, which Malleus insisted on paying for (you felt your jaw drop at the mountain of gold he casually carried around on his person. It was lucky he was so strong or he would have been robbed in an instant). The stores the two of you liked perusing the most were antique shops. Malleus would wax poetic on their origins and you would make up silly stories about their past owners, which often made him laugh.

Once, it had started raining on one of your evening walks, so Malleus had to stay the night at your house. As you prepared some spare clothes and towels for him, he unexpectedly drew closer to you, telling you that he had a confession to make. You tensed, afraid that he was going to confess his love to you, as seemed to often happen to you these days... only for Malleus to lower his hood and reveal that he was the crown prince, which made you more than a little embarrassed at your assumption.

On his head, though, grew two pairs of horns. It was a physical reminder of his heritage, and what people tended to stare at whenever he appeared at official events. He had greatly enjoyed your company over these weeks, but he didn’t want your relationship to be founded on a lie. It didn’t feel right to hide such an important fact about himself anymore. You admitted to him that you had sort of figured out who he was from the start, so it wasn’t a big deal. The two of you were friends now, weren’t you?

Well, after that, Malleus started sending carriages to pick you up and take you to the palace. His best knights, Silver and Sebek, always accompanied you (though you swore Sebek threw you dirty looks when Malleus came running to greet you). Malleus insisted on spoiling you, too (his personal advisor, Lilia, whispered that Malleus was simply excited to have a friend to invite home for the first time). He would treat you to entire feasts and show you valuable historical artifacts, and even offered to throw a party in your name-- though you had to stop him before he actually went through with that plan.

He even offered to set up a room for you in the palace, and to give you a noble title if that was what you desired. You’d never have to work a day in your life again (which was tempting, honestly). You almost forgot Malleus was a villain-- at least, you did until you complained about a customer bothering you and he asked if you wanted to make it so that they were never heard from again. You had stumbled your way into his inner circle, and if anyone ever crossed you, he would be sure to deal with them appropriately.

During another one of your visits to Malleus’s palace, you get the sense that something was different. Sebek and Silver were more alert than usual, and even Lilia was throwing you an amused glance every now and then. It wasn’t until you reached the parlor and opened the door to Malleus handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers that you realized what was going on. Malleus told you that you had become someone unbearably precious to him, and he would do anything to make you smile. Would you do the honor of becoming his spouse, and the next co-ruler of the kingdom?

Well, congratulations, you thought to yourself. Somehow you’d collected the full set of villains from the original novel. It took you a second to get your bearings, and you gave the same spiel to Malleus that you gave to the other villains: you weren’t ready for a relationship, being future royalty was too much pressure, and so on. You practically had it memorized at this point from how often you needed to say it. He accepted it with grace, and told you the offer would always be open to you. Life continued on for you in much the same way as it did before, except now the crown prince would invite you on luxurious outings or show up at your door so the two of you could go on walks around town.

That was it... or so you thought. A few days later, Azul contacted you with a full set of information on Hera Winn. You’d almost forgotten you’d requested him to look into her, what with the crown prince proposing to you and all. As soon as you got the information, you rushed to her location to figure things out.

You found Hera Winn lounging at a cafe, a pile of desserts piled high and several books open on the table before her. When she saw you, however, she got up immediately, tears in her eyes... and leaned in to hug you.

Huh?

Before you could get too confused, though, Hera explained that when she was born, she had memories of her past life, and of reading I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover! She really did not want to follow the plot of the original story and, using her knowledge of it, gained fabulous wealth from various gambling ventures and business investments. She offered you some pastries while she talked, and while your mouth was full, said that she was so, so happy that you had come along and basically caught everyone’s attention. Now she never had to deal with them again. Good luck! Maybe the two of you could reminisce over your old world together sometime, hm?

With that, she left you, and you buried your head in your hands with a groan. You wanted to beg her to come back, but it wasn’t like she could take your spot now, not with all the villains so thoroughly in love with you.

Really, what were you going to do? The villains seemed content to wait for your decision, even if they got into spats with each other here and there. You could choose one of them, you could choose all, or you could choose none: the decision was truly yours. It looked like you were now the main character of I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!, whether you liked it or not.

#liya writes #manhwa au #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[marcskywalker]

au where arthur first catches merlin using magic is when Arthur is injured come up with deep plot points here it's just the two of them out in forest, he's bleeding and slightly feverish, both getting increasingly desperate to find help.

Merlin tries his usual "perform magic while I distract arthur with a stick cause he is a 5 year old child" to heal/reduce pain for arthur he gets caught.

EXCEPTTT arthur thinks that it's the first time merlin is resorting to magic, and it's only because arthur himself is gravely hurt. He's oddly very touched by it and concerned about what this means for Merlin's heart, so he pretends and turns a blind eye (it's just one time nothing is going to come out of it. It's his bubbling fool, probably learned a trick or two from the druids or his sorcerer friend. He's not going around doing magic all day)

But, once he's seen it, he can't un-see it. The next time he's fighting off a bunch of bandits, he keeps track of merlin whose golden eyes are barely barely hidden behind a tree to stop a rogue 6 foot man from plunging his sword into arthur. Doing magic twice is dangerous territory, someone needs to warn his merlin about the dangers he's exposing himself to. And since he's doing all of this to protect arthur (and isn't that a thought!), it should be arthur's responsibility to have this talk with merlin.

"You've had your fun, Merlin. You can stop doing it now." "What?" "I know you get a kick off of breaking the law but magic is serious business-" "I have NEVER done-" "AND I appreciate you doing it for me. Truly, I do. But this needs to stop before we put ourselves in more danger. Alright?" "??????????????" "Good talk."

ofc merlin instead starts to see how much magic he can get away with (always saying that's a new trick he learned instead of something he knew from birth) since arthur doesn't seem keen on murdering/reporting him for it. except every time he does something, arthur looks like he's about to hyperventilate and pass out.

This continues for a while; Arthur will catch Merlin doing some magic mostly to protect him and he'll resort to giving a stern talk or begging or yelling at merlin to stop doing it. The longer this goes on, the cheekier Merlin gets and Arthur just gets more miserable.

He starts having nightmares of Merlin dying; sometimes caught by Uther, sometimes caught by one of his enemies. Other nights, he has nightmares of the magic corrupting merlin so much that the man beside him is unrecognizable (these are the ones that has arthur waking up gasping for breath with red rimmed eyes but you won't hear that from him).

something happens that pushes arthur over the edge to have a full blown breakdown in front of merlin

"I don't want you to corrupt your heart, Merlin. Not for anyone" the words are muffled between his sobs but Merlin hears them as though they're shouted from the rooftop, "Least of all for me. I'm not worth it. Please stop. I'm not worth it. Please. Please. I want you to be you. please... "

#merthur #bbc merln #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fanfic #merthur prompts #liya writes #prompts #basically arthur genuinely believes that doing magic will corrupt the person's soul and make them evil in future #and he thinks merlin is ruining himself for arthur #and arthur proceeds to have a mental breakdown (I love seeing arthur having a mental breakdown he's been through so much he deserves one)

[afterdulce]

desire.

summary: a repost of an older piece, featuring La Signora, Childe, and Scaramouche and how they act with you in the bedroom.

notes: 1k words, drabbles, nsft, afab but otherwise gn reader, a mention of reader in lingerie in La Signora's part, ft. devotion and introspection

La Signora

Maybe it would have been better if her heart had died all those years ago, if she had forgotten how to love. Then La Signora would not be at the mercy of your smile, igniting within her a flame she had thought long extinguished. 

She teases you mercilessly, buys you expensive lingerie just so she can have the pleasure of ripping it off of you. She adorns you with a black diamond choker, tugs it sharply so she can see your breath catch. This is her mark, a sign so that everyone knows you are the only one who is allowed to stand beside her.

She takes you in her office, your thighs wrapped around her face as she torturously licks your clit in slow strips. She brings you close to orgasm and each time, you beg her to let you cum whenever she stills. The sound of your pleading is so lovely, and she rips it from you over and over, drunk on your voice. When La Signora finally relents, she sucks at your clit until you’re overstimulated and shaking, only able to cry from the constant pleasure as she brings an unrelenting orgasm from your spasming body. You are the sweetest thing she’s ever tasted.

(This is what bringing down Celestia will feel like: the triumph of having you come undone from her fingers, of ruining you with her own two hands.)

She will kiss away each of your tears, carry you in arms to her room when you are too exhausted to walk. La Signora will draw a bath for you, gently wash every inch of your body, as familiar to her as her own. In bed, she always falls asleep last; she needs to hear your quiet breathing to remind herself that you are still here, and that she will slaughter anyone who keeps you from her.

(This is the most dangerous part of loving you, she thinks. Touching you like this makes her so afraid. A stroke of your hair, a kiss to your forehead: she is more naked now than when she is between your legs.)

Childe

It feels like a betrayal that he touches you so gently. Childe wants to love you until he breaks, to drown in you until there is nothing left of himself but the thought of you. Love, after all, is the most beautiful sort of violence.

Pull his hair, scratch his back. Place hickeys in every area he can’t hide to mark him as yours. It delights him when you push his face into the mattress, when you look down at him coldly and make him beg to even touch your body. Childe doesn’t know what he likes better: when you come undone from his fingers alone, or the way you look with your hands around his throat. 

His favorite position is against the wall, if only so he could show off how he can still pound into you with your legs wrapped around his waist. Childe leans his forehead against yours, each thrust making your words more incoherent, your walls tightening wonderfully around him. In his most selfish moments, he thinks about a family, of asking you to let him cum in you over and over until it drips down your legs, but always pulls out at the last minute.

(The though of a life with you is too much to bear. Maybe once the two of you rip down the archons from their thrones will he allow himself to dream.)

He likes to talk, afterwards, with you in his arms, about anything at all, while stroking idle circles on your back, nuzzling his face in your hair. Sometimes, you are too sleepy to reply, but he is content just to feel your warmth. In the mornings, he’ll make you your favorite foods, and calculate if you’ll let him go for another round before work.

(He wants to be destroyed by you, to destroy you in return. It is simple as that.)

Scaramouche

Every act of intimacy is a battle. Scaramouche, after all, does not know how to love gently. His touch is rough, awkward, clumsy. He has always scoffed at the idea of letting anyone close, but here you are, his greatest weakness.

He leaves deep purple hickey blooming on your skin, kisses you like he will die of hunger if he stops. He holds you tightly, because there is the lingering fear you will slip away if he lets go. For all his bluster and bravado, there is a special sort of pleasure when you straddle him and tie back his hands so he can’t touch you, when you start stroking his cock during a meeting, and he grips his pen so hard it snaps. How has it come to the point where he is at your mercy?

But this is still a pleasure reserved for him alone. No one else will ever see you like this, hair tousled, eyes half lidded, moaning his name like a prayer as he thrusts into you. Scaramouche holds your thighs apart, his pace uneven and his breath ragged. His love is worship, and your body is a temple. You are the closest to touching the divine he will get.

(He needs you so much it disgusts him how much power you hold. One word and he will come undone at your hands.)

Scaramouche prefers it when you hold him when all is done, irritated as he asks you to put your arms around him so he can lean back against your chest. There is no need for words; he despises idle chatter, and your presence alone is enough. In the mornings, everyone knows not to disturb your time together, not unless they wish to suffer his wrath.

(Tell him you love him. Tell him you love him, so he can know he is alive, that he is real, that he is more than what he was made to be: a shell of a god, an imitation of a human.)

#liya writes #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #la signora smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #scaramouche x reader #la signora x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #la signora #childe #scaramouche #smut #x reader

[shardssystem]

This was inflicted upon us by @kosmosxipo, so now I get to inflict it on you all! Yay! It’s the WIP post!

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

A Tale Of Two In The City

Downtime

Learning To Forgive

Going The Distance

Countdown

Into Dust

Perchance To Dream

The Spirit Of Man

Dearly Beloved

The Ties That Bind

Spoonful Of Sugar

Of Sand And Ruin

Deus Ex Arcanum

Silver Tongues

The Coming Storm

Heart Of Darkness

Dead Man's Hand

Within The System

The Long Walk

Something Borrowed

Lock Ourselves In

As for tagging, I never have a good idea about who would like to do these, so I’ll leave it off for now, but consider this an open tag and/or invitation!

#fan writing #mtg oc #liya al-amundi #fanwalker #ffxiv #ffxiv fanfiction

[liyawritesss]

i hate that school as put me in a writers block man

#i've been sitting here for 30min trying to write something for this idea ive had for a long ass time #and i just keep restarting the same beginning sentence I've barely formed #i already knew that junior year of college was gonna be the hardest for me but gah dayum #its only week 5 and all my creativity has been absolutely drained #someone give me some ideas #a prompt #a headcanon #something #anything to help me outta this shit #liya talks

[datingabigshot]

Meet your SpamSim team!

Hiiii I'm Blue! I'm on the aro/ace spectrum and I go by she/they. I'm 24 and a college grad for illustration and creative writing. Here's a cardd for social links :]

It was love at first sight with this little thing. The uniqueness and the creativity of his character made him very appealing to me. Might have... analyzed him too much under a microscope

I'll be do a little of everything! I'm in charge of backgrounds and writing the Romance route. I'll also help out with character sprites and refining story beats

hiiii im liya! im on the aroace spectrum and i use she/they pronouns. im 20 and currently doing college remotely.

here's my carrd with the places you can find me!

i surprisingly didn't like spamton (almost hated him) at our first meeting, but i blame that on a bad day. once i got to know the guy, he became one of my favorite little dudes! he helped me get through some tough times, and i owe him my life (savings).

i may have started the dating sim, but im NOT the boss lol (there is none).

im in charge of the main talking sprites, storyline setup, and the BAD ending route.

Hi hi hi! I'm Ray! I'm 21 and I use they/them and I'm in school for 2D Animation! I'm Ace/Pan, rounding out the ace Spam team, so you know he's in good hands. I have all my links on my carrd!

I'm not necessarily a Spamton smoocher, but I love this silly little guy and his weird and off-putting vibe. Shoutsout to WayneradioTV and Jerma for fueling my weird love for this guy. (I'm also a dating sim lover RAHHHHHH)

I'm anything but the boss and I'm working on the neutral route and maybe some additional character sprites (WHO SAID THAT...)!

#spamsim team #introductions #admin blue #admin ray #admin liya

[babyboiboyega]

Title: touchin’, lovin’, fuckin’

Relationship: HBCU!Shuri x Black!Fem!Reader x HBCU!Emerald Haywood

Word Count: 12.8k

In Collaboration with @shinsousliya​

Synopsis: Emerald and Shuri finally meet for the first time, and when coming to the realization that you’ve been keeping yourself away from them deliberately, the two women plan to give you exactly what you want.

Content: profanity, smut, use of drugs (cannabis), smut, mentions of greening out, and uhhhh more smut :)

A/N: let me preface this by saying that if you are not 18+...getcho ass off of this fic right neow. Not tryna catch any type of case, and neither one of us are responsible for you reading something you weren’t supposed to.

This fic first started out with Liya and I’s headcanons about the differences  between how Shuri would treat you and then how Em would treat you. Then our thirst got the better of us, and well...here we are LMAO

NOW...this is my first time writing smut. First ever. With that being said...we hope you enjoy this, and Happy Valentines Day <3

Today is the day.

There’s a pool of anxiety forming in your tummy, and you’re not sure why. Not even your music can sway you into calmer waters, which tells you that the feeling in your tummy is nothing to play off.

You’re standing in the mirror, going over your figure once more. The three-piece cream lounge set you wore, complete with fuzzy shorts, cropped tank and long flow-y cardigan contrasted beautifully against your honey brown skin. Your braids had been pulled into a half-up ponytail, with two on each side left down in the front to frame your face. It was the set Emerald had bought you for your birthday, knowing that you’d love the fabric used. Ironically Shuri bought you the exact same one, color and all, saying that the color of it reminded her of you.

God, how did you manage to have Emerald Haywood and Shuri Udaku wrapped around your dainty little finger? Even you couldn't answer that question.

Looking at the both of them, who’s polaroid pictures had been taped lovingly on the fringe of your full length mirror, anyone could tell that you had a type. Dark skin, brown eyes, curly hair - the only thing making them different were their origins and occupations. And the one thing tying these two women of completely different worlds together, was you.

You remember the day you first met Emerald. You’d been shopping at Best Buy trying to find a new camera to take better pictures with for your photography class. Emerald was there, and from the moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you. Sparking up a conversation was easy, and the laughter that was shared in that camera aisle was one you’d never experienced before. Despite her brother cockblocking, as she would recall it, urging for them to go, Emerald took her sweet time typing her number into your phone. The wink she sent you had butterflies dancing in your stomach, and til this day, it still does.

Then, two weeks later, you met Shuri Udaku. Despite her wanting to keep her social status under tight lock and key, the air of regality and confidence she held did little to help her keep her identity under wraps. Not to mention, she’d seen you in her African American Literature class, and was immediately captivated by your intelligence. After class, Shuri didn’t hesitate to pull you aside, apologize for her abruptness, and ask you out on a date. She wanted to court you properly, and, if things went well, she would propose the option of making things official.

Suddenly, you found yourself catching feelings for both women, who wanted you just as much as you wanted them. And what made it harder to choose was that they not only said how much they wanted you, they thoroughly showed it in acts of service, giving you gifts, and taking on roles that previous partners of yours had never done before, and could never compare to.

At first, you believed you had to choose, but then the thought came to you; why choose, when you could have both?

You’d since begun your plot of making them both yours, and only yours, and step one had been to slowly introduce the idea of polygamy to each woman. Shuri was more susceptible to the concept, having grown up in an environment where queer relationships and polygamy were just as normal as heterosexual relationships and monogamy were. She verbally told you that she would be more than willing to give polygamy a shot, and you were more than happy that she accepted the idea.

Then, there was Emerald, who you had to put in a bit more work when talking about polygamy. She is in no way a stranger to queerness, but polygamy as a concept was something she found a bit hard to grasp. But after explaining it a few times, using a few analogies that pertained to her and her interests to better help her understand the concept, she, too, was all in for it.

Emerald and Shuri had met before, only over the phone via Facetime and in your shared group chat. The two got along swimmingly, becoming the fastest friends and soon enough shooting flirtatious words at each other within the month after confirming that they’d each be willing to give this three-person relationship a shot. The last part of this scheme, to absolutely make sure that all three of you were willing to put in the effort to make this work, was for Shuri and Emerald to meet in person.

And today was the day that Shuri and Emerald could be coming to your apartment to do just that.

You’d taken special care in your attire today, hence the lounge set you’d chosen to put on, as well as the purple diamond studded necklace with panther claws that Shuri had gifted you a while ago, and Emerald’s favorite scent on you - sage and vanilla bean, as the scent drove the woman insane.

A knock sounded at your door, breaking you from your daze and making you jog to the door to answer. It was none other than Shuri, who had also gotten the memo about loungewear, since this would be a pretty laid back and chill day. Sporting a simple dark gray sweat pant and hoodie set, and her hair in a fresh twist out letting her curls hand low on her forehead, and her ears sporting the same kimoyo earrings she always wore; Shuri looked so fucking attractive.

“Hi, usana,” She says, immediately reaching out to pull your frame against hers. Her arms instinctively snaking around your waist, her warm, slightly calloused hands feeling so warm against the small of your back as she pulled you in. Your arms instinctively went to wrap around her neck, embracing her back, and if it wasn’t in the doorway of your apartment, you’d stay there in that embrace forever.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper against her neck, the similar smell of sage and lavender ticking your nose, making you smile against her skin. You brung Shuri into your apartment, taking notice of the backpack she’d brought with her and ignoring the heat that trickled down your legs. Shuri knows your apartment by heart, and once she tucks her bag away in the storage closet, she makes her way to the couch with you.

“Where’s Em?” Shuri questions, noticing the missing presence in the apartment.

“She got held up with her brother on something, she should be here in, like, an hour.” You reply, to which Shuri acknowledges with a hum as she takes a seat on the couch. Her body sinks into the cushions, her legs spread, and she stretches, and you catch the tiniest glimpse of her toned tummy. The little sound she makes from stretching makes you giggle a bit, as you walk over to take your place on her lap.

Shuri’s hands are instinctive and skillful, positioning your body so you’re sitting across her lap, and her hands are on any bare skin she can get in contact with. She’s clingy, she normally gets like this after a long day of classes or doing her science projects. You go to embrace her once more, and her head finds comfort in your breasts, inhaling your scent, bringing her comfort.

“Missed you, my love,” she whispers against you.

“Missed you too, baby,” you reply, pressing a kiss to her temple.

The next hour is spent with the two of you just talking about your day. Your hand dances on Shuri’s undercut as she speaks, your nude acrylics creating soothing friction against the nape of her neck and the design in her undercut. It’s one of the mundane, completely normal things that turns her on the most, and while Shuri tries to keep her composure, you notice how her breath hitches ever so slightly, and the subtle shifts she makes under you.

There’s another knock at your door, and the only person it could be is Emerald. The anxious pool from before finds its way back into your stomach, as you quickly stand up to answer the door. Shuri follows after, albeit keeping a few feet of distance away to allow Emerald easy passage into the humble abode.

There in the doorway stands the last addition to your trio, in all her glory. She sports an oversized graphic t-shirt, baggy jeans and her signature Doc Martens. She has a chain dangling from her neck, and her curls also dance along her forehead beautifully.

Similar to Shuri, Emerald greets you with a “Hey, mamas,” as she brings you in by the waist, and you by her neck. After your embrace, you rush her inside, and you turn to see Emerald and Shuri greet each other warmly, with Em initiating a hand shake that Shuri gladly reciprocates, and it ends in the two women embracing each other.

“Man, you don’t know how good it is to finally meet you!” Emerald beams, showing off her killer smile to the young royal. “Wait- I ain’t gotta curtsy or none of that right? We cool off that?”

“It is good to see you, too, Em.” Shuri replies, her own smile, brighter than any sunrise you’ve ever witnessed, adorning her face. “And no, no curtsy needed. I’m just Shuri here.”

The anxiety that once pooled in your stomach disappeared the moment you saw them embrace each other. The two women took their positions on your couch (Emerald had also discarded the backpack she brought in your storage closet, and again, the heat that pooled in your core came back, more intense than before), and the two immediately made space for you between them.

“Ain’t you comin’ to sit, ma?” Emerald asked.

You shook your head, bringing the two confusion. “As much as I’d love to be in between my two favorite people - dinner isn’t gonna cook itself.” you replied, instead making your way into the kitchen, “But please, talk, get to know each other! I’m not even here!”

Your little chime brings laughter from both Emerald and Shuri, and they do as you wish, conversating amongst themselves and entertaining each other while you focus on dinner.

It’s sometime in the evening, determined by the way the pretty golden beams of the setting sun shine into your apartment through the large floor to ceiling bay windows.

Emerald had gone to fetch your bottle of wine from the kitchen, planting a quick kiss to your forehead and an even quicker swat at your butt, causing you to gasp in surprise. You shoo her out of the kitchen as she grabs two wine glasses for her and Shuri. As she approaches the couch once more, she catches sight of the way the sun does wonders to Shuri’s skin, making glow effortlessly, and damn, Emerald finds herself enraptured by this princess. And Shuri takes note of it, a small smirk plastering itself on her face.

“Something catch your eye, my gem?” Shuri asks innocently, using the nickname she had given to Emerald the moment the other became comfortable with the concept of polygamy, using it as a stepping stone to further the attraction.

Emerald scrunches her nose as she places a glass in front of Shuri, pouring the red alcoholic beverage into it, as she replies, “Shut up, princess.”

Her reply gains a chuckle from Shuri, who takes a sip of the wine when Emerald finishes pouring. She immediately recognizes the taste as the fruity bitterness slips down her throat, “Barefoot?”

“Aww, you know your liquor, aye?” Emerald sings, pouring her own class.

“It's the only thing I can keep down,” Shuri explains, “anything other than wine and I go bat-shit crazy. Learned that at my first college party.”

“Don’t tell me they gave you Henny right off the bat? No chaser?”

“Man, they didn’t even give me a warning of what would happen!” Of course, Shuri’s experience was not a laughable one, but the way she spoke of it brought a rumble of laughter from the other brown skinned woman.

“They did you wrong, princess. Don’t worry though, I ain’t gon’ set you up like that,” Emerald hums, “Besides wine, I only fucks with light liquor anyway, so that dark shit don’t even be up my alley.”

Shuri rests back on the couch as she takes in Emerald’s side profile. The sun that once shone on her skin now hit Emerald’s beautifully. The hoop earrings that hung from her ears, her fresh, shiny curls, her sharp jawline - Shuri couldn’t help but feel something warm pool into her stomach from the sight of such a beautiful woman. It’s a miracle she’s even able to be here now - her schedule had been hectic as of late, which is why the meeting between the two had been postponed until now - but she’s now grateful to be in the presence of both the women she loved.

“You look beautiful, Emerald,” Shuri suddenly blurts out, albeit confidently and not ashamed in the slightest. It catches Emerald off guard, not used to verbally hearing Shuri’s straightforwardness, but nonetheless, it excites her.

“You not bad lookin’ yourself, ‘ri,” Emerald replies, but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t heat creeping up her neck from the sudden compliment. “Aye, do you smoke?”

“Not really, no,” Shuri replied, “I’ve only ever gotten contact high, thanks to that one in there,” she continued, gesturing to your figure in the kitchen, still cooking.

“You wanna? I got a couple of blunts on me.” Emerald offers. Shuri takes a moment to think, before shrugging her shoulders in indifference. “Wouldn’t hurt, I don’t think.”

With that confirmation, Emerald fishes out a blunt from her front pocket, as well as a lighter, and with swiftness and expertise, she lights the brown roll up and takes a pull from it. Soon after it leaves her lips, she emits a puff of smoke from them. Shuri watches intently, more so the other woman’s lips than the actions she took to pull the intoxicating smoke from the blunt.

“Aight, so, it's simple shit,” Emerald begins, turning her body to face Shuri, and the princess does the same, “you just put to your lips and inhale. Don't do it too deep, though, just do it a lil’ bit, and once you feel like you got enough, you just blow out. Aight?”

Shuri nodded in confirmations, as Emerald handed Shuri the blunt. Shuri took it, examining the roll quizzingly, before raising it up to her lips and doing as she was instructed. Her lungs took a slight burn from the intake of smoke, and when she released it from behind her lips, a cough also escaped as a form of relief to her stinging lungs.

“Aye, good job, princess!” Emerald praised, raising a hand to pat Shuri’s back to aid in her slight coughing fit. She took the blunt from Shuri’s hand, seeing that she may be good for another few puffs before it was handed back to her.

“Why did it taste fruity?” Shuri inquires, intrigued by the taste of grape being left on her lips.

“Oh, the roll is flavored. This is white grape.” Emerald explains as she takes another pull of the blunt.

Shuri could feel the effects of the cannabis already taking hold, or at least, feel the smoke beginning to muddle her mind. It was an interesting feeling, made her feel light and airy, and oddly clingy. The next couple of pulls from Shuri had her fishing for Emerald’s hand to hold, of which the other woman found adorable and endearing. It reminded her of the first time she got high with you, and how incredibly touchy and clingy you were, desperate for her touch. The first night you got high together was forever emblazoned in Emerald’s mind.

“You good, princess?” Emerald asked, to which Shuri nodded, her voice becoming non-existent as the cannabis took control over her mind. She now laid her head against the couch, still fiddling with Emerald’s hand, and an idea came to Emerald’s mind. “Sit up for me, baby.”

Shuri obliged eagerly, curious to what Emerald was doing. The smoker took a deep pull from the blunt, took Shuri gently by the throat, and brought the princess’s face closer to hers. Slowly, Emerald blew the stream of smoke right into Shuri’s lips, which had already formed an ‘o’ shape to receive it. Their lips were agonizingly close, and if it wasn’t for Emerald’s hand keeping her in place, Shuri would have leaned in to kiss Emerald.

Shuri withstood the smoke, feeling her mind becoming even more muddled by the drug. And as if her mind had been read, Emerald leaned in and connected her soft lips onto Shuri’s. Immediately, the princess melted into it, following Emerald’s guiding hand.

Emerald is the first to pull away, a smirk gracing her lips once she sees just how hooked Shuri is.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Emerald mutters, and Shuri couldn’t agree more.

A voice - your voice - calls from the kitchen, your tone amused and slightly worried by Emerald’s antics. “Are you done corrupting my baby? The food is almost ready.”

“We comin’, we comin’,!” Emerald says back, putting out her blunt and setting it on the ashtray on your coffee table, moving to stand up. Now that her mind isn't consumed with how pretty Shuri looks high and intaking the smoke from the shotgun, she notices that the princess is a bit too quiet for her liking. Giving Shuri’s figure a once over, Emerald’s expert eyes ntoice the slight tremble that’s overtaking Shuri’s body.

“A-Are you my hands suppose to be shaking, Emerald?”

“Shit-”

“Em, what’s wrong?”

Emerald is no stranger to green outs, witnessing and experiencing them alike, but the idea that she was too fast and too much for the princess to handle made a pang of guilt spring in her chest.

“Nothin’! Bring Shuri a glass of water, bae!”

Perplexed, you complied, reaching into the fridge for a bottle water and bringing it to the couch where Emerald and Shuri had made themselves at home, and you soon saw why Emerald requested the clear beverege.

“What the hell- Did you green her out?!”

“It was an accident, I swear!”

It takes a split second for you to take Emerald’s previous spot on the couch, immediately going into nurturing mode and examining the extent of Shuri’s trembles. It’s only her hands and legs that are shaking, not violently but also not slightly either.

“Em, help me take her sweatshirt off, she’s sweating,” you instruct, and in another swift motion, Emerald takes a seat behind Shuri on the couch. With care you strip the princess of her sweatshirt, leaving her in her black sports bra, her skin damn with a thin layer of sweat.

“Hey, baby, look at me,” you whisper softly to Shuri, who’s blown out eyes find yours with ease despite her current state, “you’re alright, okay? Just take some deep breaths, and drink this-” your hand gently pushes the small bottle of water into her own hands, which seemed to have calmed down from their light tremors, “-and I’ll bring you something to eat, okay?”

Shuri nods, taking in your words, though her mind is too foggy to comprehend much of anything else. Emerald embraces her from behind, and Shuri graciously finds comfort in leaning back into Emerald’s chest. The cotton fabric of her shirt is cool and refreshing against Shuri’s heated skin. As you stepped away to make your two lovers their plates, Emerald assists in bringing the water to Shuri’s lips to drink. The woman downed the liquid feverishly, and returns to her previous behavior of reaching for Emerald’s hand to ground her.

Once the bottle is done and discarded, Shuri goes to her wrist, pulling off the bracelet Emerald had been eying for its simple beauty. The princess places the beads on her chest, and before Emerald has a chance to ask what she’s doing, Shuri speakds;

“Griot, read me my vitals, please.”

“Hello, princess.” a male voice sounds out, spiraling Emerald further into confusion.

“Hol’ on, is your bracelet talkin’-?”

“Your blood pressure is 80/120. Your heart rate is 102 beats per minute, slightly higher than your average 90 beats per minute. All organ and artery functions are good. You seem to be experiencing Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose, specifically due to a potent strand of cannabis known as Indica. This can cause nausea, abdominal pain, and dehydration. Would you like me to recommend foods and beverages to counteract the Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose?”

“No, that is all, thank you-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emerald’s voice interjects, “your bracelet just fucking talked-!”

In Emerald’s astonishment, Shuri directs the AI to introduce itself to Emerald, as she’s still a bit far gone in her mind to fully concentrate on explaining her invention.

“Hello. May I register your name into my memory stores, so I know how to address you?”

“Uh….Em..-Emerald Haywood?”

“Hello ‘Em’. Is it alright if I address you as such?”

“Uh…sure?”

“Okay, Em. My name is Griot. I am an artificial intelligence designed by and to assist Princess Shuri in her scientific and engineering endeavors. My primary functions outside of laboratory duties are to read the Princess her daily vitals, generate answers to the Princess’s questions based on searches through the World Wide Web, and set and read out reminders for the Princess throughout her day.”

Emerald is too shocked to speak - never in her life had she encountered a piece of technology so advanced. She knew that Shuri was a pretty important person, and a literal genius, so it’s no surprise she would come in contact with one of her creations, but nothing like this ever crossed her mind.

“Thank you for the vital read, Griot,” you say, as you come from the kitchen holding two plates of food in your hand. You set them on the coffee table, one for each woman.

“Hello Ms. (Y/N). You are welcome for the vital read.”

“Does Shuri have any important messages from home?”

The AI beeps, stalls for a second, before responding, “No new messages, Ms. (Y/N).”

“Good, you can go on standby, then. We’ll take care of Shuri’s green out.”

The AI bids you farewell and beeps off, and Shuri sends you a look that says ‘thank you’ in reference to you checking her messages, something she’d been bad on doing as of late. You turn to Emerald’ who is still staring at the silver beads resting on her partners chest, then shoots a look back up to you.

“She got a talkin’ bracelet-”

“They’re called kimoyo beads, babe. And it’s an AI installed in it-”

“Do you got a talkin’ bracelet I don't know about?!”

You shake your head, instead bringing attention to a pair of earrings similar to Shuri’s. “I have earrings instead. They’re more discreet this way.”

“....so when can I get a talkin’ bracelet, or earrings, or whatever?”

“Oh my god, Em, just help Shuri eat something so the THC don’t eat away at her more than it already has.”

At that, Shuri makes a move to sit up on her own, slow and albeit a bit wobbly, still coming down from the unpleasant experience from the THC overdose. “I’m-I’m okay. I can eat on my own….I think.”

After you’ve gotten your food, the next hour is spent with Emerald and you practically doting on the princess as she recovers miraculously fast from her green out. Perhaps it is due to the vibranium herbal stores in the kimoyo beads, of which would have been released onto the skin and penetrate the surface level when Shuri’s body began displaying signals of distress. Or, it could be the enhancement the heart-shaped herb gave Shuri’s immune system when ingested long ago. The cause of her recovery didn’t matter as much as the fact that she was better, and was able to function without tremors disrupting her movements.

The three of you ate in peace while a movie played - Emerald’s commentary being more of the star of the show than the actual characters in the movie. In that time, you were able to take in both women in all their glory. Their warm, sun kissed skin which now glowed from the warm white light your LED’s were shining, the way they were so trained on the television, the way they interacted with each other. You couldn’t believe that earlier you had any doubts of the two not getting along once they’d met each other in person. If anything, they seemed like they’d already known each other their whole lives.

Once dinner was finished and another round of wine was shared, you took the dirty dishes in the kitchen and prepared to clean up what little mess was left from your cooking. Emerald watched your figure shrink away into the kitchen area, thinking of something.

“Hey, princess,” she calls to the other woman, who responds with a hum, as her lips were currently occupied with the red alcoholic beverage in her cup.

“You’re around here more, right? Cuz you go to the same college bae-bae does right?” Emerald asks, using her nickname for you. Shuri nods, confirming Emerald’s suspicions with another hum.

“So have y’all, like, fucked recently?”

The question takes Shuri off guard, but gets her to think as well. After a moment, the princess shakes her head. “I think the last time we were intimate was…a month ago?”

“Damn, a month?”

“Yes - but I believe she had a lot of important projects coming up for that one photography class of hers.”

“Hm. Interesting.”

Emerald peers over her shoulder to take a glance at you, still scrubbing away in the kitchen. Shuri follows her gaze, slowly catching on to what Emerald was insinuating.

“And you two? How long has it been, I mean?”

“Shit, probably like a month and a half. I been dealing with shit with my brother, but normally she goes crazy if she don’t get it, y’know?”

“Indeed, I do know. The longest we’ve ever gone without sex would have been two weeks. I was away at home, and when I came back…for lack of better words, she was quite feral.”

There’s another pause, and Shuri and Emerald share a look.

“You don’t think…it was deliberate, her making us wait this long?”

“I think that she thinks shit is sweet, tryna play us like this.”

Emerald takes a swig of wine from her glass, swirling the red liquid inside. Then, abruptly, she stops. A lightbulb goes off in her head, and it’s evident by the smirk that grows on her lips. Shuri catches this, and has an idea of what Emerald’s mind is already concocting.

“What’re you planning, my gem?” Shuri questions with a knowing look, a crooked smile of anticipation gracing her lips.

“Just thinkin’...we should give her what she wants…” Emerald replies, placing her glass back on the coffee table, her smirk increasing, “...or not.”

Shuri’s eyebrows raise, though not with surprise; more out of anticipation…excitement. Admittedly, as soon as she had caught onto what Em was insinuating, she had felt that bud of excitement slowly unfurl in her stomach, only furthered by the attraction she had quickly grown towards Em and the attraction she already had for you.

“Oh, we’ll give her something. Who knew our girl could be so schemeful?”

The sound of the sink turning off interrupts Em before she canspeak. They both hear you rummaging around, tidying up whatever you had used before presumably joining them. Em takes the chance to connect her gaze with Shuri’s, nodding subtly to the storage closet where they both had placed their bags…the bags that contained the items that would surely make you think twice about doing something like this again.

Shuri, her smile widening, stands and quietly makes her way over, opening it and grabbing both bags. Ever since she had seen Em walk in and deposit the bag in your storage, a small part of her had been constantly thinking about what could be in; now, her heart speeds up slightly at the thought of finding out soon enough.

The silence in the other room makes you pause, as only a few seconds ago you had heard their voices, slightly drowned out by the running water, but there nonetheless. Now…it was silent. Almost abruptly so.

You quickly wipe your hands on the nearest towel before turning and making your way back into the main room, your eyes instantly flickering between your two favorite women. The sight that you meet makes you pause in your tracks, your heart seeming to know what was going before you did as it speeds up slightly.

“Is everything okay?”

Shuri sets the bags her and Em brought on the ground, her gaze landing on you afterwards. There’s a knowing look in her eye paired with something you could only liken to the look she adopted whenever you did something that amused her or made her proud. Your body reacted on its own, the same ball of heat from earlier slowly gaining size where it rested in your core. Though, as soon as you turn your gaze to Em, that heat turns into something you can just barely contain.

Her eyes narrow as she gazes at you from her spot on the couch, the dark pools of brown harboring a look that you recognize immediately.

“You think you slick, don’t you?”.

The question paired with the smug tone in Em’s voice has your body clenching around nothing, the ball of eat moving to envelop your entire body. The next breath you take in is shaky as your eyes move to Shuri. She only cocks her head, her eyes appraising you from where she stood.

“Em, baby, what are you talking about-”

Emerald sets her wine glass down with a sigh, leaning forward and pulling herself to the edge of her seat. Her eyes connect with yours with an intensity that’s so strong that it practically has you shaking as she motions for you to walk closer. It's so intense and so heady that you don’t realize you’re being surrounded until you feel a solid line of heat against your back, effectively trapping you in front of Em’s sitting form in front of you.

A small gasp leaves your mouth as Shuri’s hands snake around your waist. One is pressed open-palmed against your stomach, holding you in place, while the other raises and presses right against the space beneath your breasts. Her hands are gentle, but firm enough to tell you that you aren’t going anywhere unless she lets you. Her hands don’t move an inch as she lowers her head, placing a kiss against the shell of your hair only to continue placing them down the length of your neck. Her actions make your eyes flutter slightly, every other breath of yours hitched and shaky.

“Don’t play that. You know exactly what we talkin’ about- tryna play us like we wouldn’t figure it out.” There's a hint of authority in Em’s tone as she speaks, and you’re no stranger to it, as you had heard it more than once. But if it isn’t her voice and her words that make the insides of your thighs slick with arousal, then its the way she suddenly grabs your hips and pulls you down, right onto the apex of her thigh. The feeling of her thigh against your clothed core is consuming enough to make you shiver, your hands raising and landing on her shoulder to give yourself more leverage.

“Keeping us away from you…makin’ up those excuses ‘bout being busy…and then gettin’ us to come here?” Every sentence is emphasized by her hands rocking your hips with a precision that's almost deadly. With every rock, the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs brushes perfectly against hers, making you curse.

“Thought you were doin’ somethin, huh?”

Shuri’s hands had shifted as you straddled Em’s leg, one raising to cup the underside of your jaw while the other slipped deftly under the cropped tank top adorning your top half. She cupped one of your bra-clad breasts, her thumb rubbing over the underside of it. The waves of pleasure emitting from your top and bottom half makes your eyes flutter until they close, your head falling back slightly to rest on Shuri’s chest.

“We’ll give you what you want, what you schemed so hard for…”

Shuri’s voice is almost raspy as she speaks into your ear, her lips brushing against your skin. The hand placed on your jaw reaches around until her slender fingers cover the expanse of your neck. Her hand presses into the diamond and vibranium encrusted necklace she had given you, the points of the panther claws digging slightly into your skin and only adding on another layer of pleasure.

EM’s hands tighten, increasing the speed with which she maneuvers your hips until you’re panting slightly, your throat bobbing with each breath under Shuri’s hand.

“But we’ll do it on our terms, now.”

Her sentence is almost close to a reprimand, making your eyes snap open right as Em’s hands stop, holding you in place. The pleasure that had been building quickly comes to a stand still, making a whine leave your mouth as you try rocking your hips once more. Em’s hands are unrelenting in their strength, not letting you move an inch as she stares up at you, a smirk slowly raising the corner of her mouth.

Any and all words you think of die on the tip of your tongue as Shuri’s hands pull you backwards, prompting you to stand on your feet once more. Your core throbbed as the pressure made by Em’s thigh disappeared.

Emerald watches as Shuri pulls you against her, one hand still on your neck while the other is placed on your hip. With a sound of frustration in your ear, Shuri quickly reaches for the cardigan hanging off your shoulders, pulling it until she all but rips it off your frame, and leaving you in the matching cotton shorts and cropped tank top.

“An entire month of nothing, and now you want to act shy. Why is that, usana? Hm?”

Emerald leans forward, blindly reaching for one of the bags that had been brought out, and the mere sight of her reaching in before pulling out the strap you had grown very comfortable with has your thighs clenching together and a whine crawling up your throat. It makes itself known as you breathlessly speak,

“Please. I just wanted-”

“We know what you want.”

Her movements are quick as her fingers wrap beneath the necklace adorning your neck, tightening it slightly. Every coherent thought of yours flies out of the window as Shuri’s hand suddenly delves beneath the waistband of your shorts, cupping your clothed core. The sudden sensation makes you jump, your ass pressing firmly into the front of her body as you bend over slightly.

“Shit-!”

She doesn’t give you time to recover or even catch your breath before her fingers are moving in tight circles over your clit, her other arm pulling you up until your back is pressed against her chest.

The feeling of Shuri’s fingers working you over while the other gently squeezes your neck makes your eyes roll back in pleasure, a drawn out moan leaving your lips. Her arm across your chest is strong enough to keep you standing on your shaky legs, as with each pass of her skilled fingers across the most sensitive part of you makes it harder to function.

It makes a tightness build in the pit of your stomach, one that only threatens to send out waves of pure pleasure and make you lose your bearings. One hand lands on her wrist where it disappears beneath your shorts, fingers wrapping around it while you soundlessly plead for her to keep going, while the other raises and grabs the back of her neck.

You can feel it building, the urge to let go and let Shuri’s hand alone work you through the orgasm cresting like a wave over your consciousness. Your mouth falls open and your breaths come quicker, pleas being mingled in with small cries…

And then Shuri wrenches her hand away, and the sound that leaves your mouth is borderline mournful as your orgasm is stopped abruptly.

Maybe you should’ve thought more about your little scheme and what would happen if they found out. You had been banking on them both being too worked up after a month or so to punish you like this, but that was obviously a mistake.

“Shuri, please…”

“You waited an entire month for this moment…I think you can wait a little longer.”

Her words make a whimper leave your mouth because…how much longer would you have to wait?

“Which one you want, princess?”

It's the sound of mischievousness and anticipation in Em’s honey smooth voice that makes your eyes snap open…and its the sight of the strap dangling from one hand while her go-to vibrator is in the other that makes your pussy clench around nothing.

This is it, this is how you die.

Em had at some point taken off her shirt and her pants, leaving her in a sports bra and a pair of boxers that hugged her hips. You swallow hard as she walks towards you, the toys in her hands taunting you with how much pleasure and punishment they could bring.

“I want something that’ll make her beg.”

Shuri’s words are emphasized by her hands turning you around before pushing you onto the couch, her and Em’s eyes appraising you as you lean back.

You wanted to tell them to hurry up and get on with it. You had been waiting for an entire month, albeit by your own willingness; but that entire month had been filled with you having to physically restrain yourself from jumping them whenever you saw them.

You weren’t in any position to make demands, though. You were completely and utterly at the mercy of both of your lovers…and it made you nervous and excited.

“We gon make her beg, alright.”

Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you watch with hooded eyes as Em drops the vibrator in its protective case on the table. She wraps her arms around Shuri’s waist from behind, her eyes holding yours as she lowers her lips to press a lingering, open mouthed kiss to where Shuri’s neck and shoulder meet.

Her hands spread Shuri’s legs slightly before hooking into the waistband of her sweatpants and pulling them down, all while continuing to press her lips against any skin she could reach. The sight of Shuri’s head falling back against Em’s shoulder, her strong jawline in perfect view as it clenches makes your hand act on its own accord. It slides down, running over your breasts and the tips of your hardened nipples before continuing its path to your leaking pussy. The warning in Em’s eyes makes your actions halt, your eyes instantly focusing on the sight of her hands skillfully wrapping the buckles around Shuri’s thighs before fastening them in the back. Her hand picks up a bottle that had been placed on the table, opening it and squeezing a generous amount of the lube into her hand.

“Look at her, ‘Ri.”

Shuri’s eyes follow Em’s words, connecting with yours right as Em’s hand closes over the shaft of the silicone dildo hanging between Shuri’s legs. She glides her hand up and down the length of it as the corner of her lips curve into a smile you know all too well; one that says she knows exactly what's about to happen but you don’t.

“Look how needy she is...after a month of playin, now she wanna act impatient.”

It only takes a few steps for Em to step around Shuri and make her way around the couch you’re on, your eyes following her until they physically can’t anymore. You crane your neck to try and get a glimpse of where she disappeared behind you, but your attention is quickly pulled back when you feel your necklace being grabbed.

Shuri’s eyes are hard when you look back, and she’s closer than she had been mere seconds ago. You rarely forget about the Black Panther’s abilities she had adopted, but her speed, agility, and endurance whenever you two fucked had always served as a good reminder.

“Take these off before I rip them off.” Her hands fist into the material of the cotton shorts adorning your bottom half, and you eagerly and quickly move to follow her directions, knowing full well that she could.

Your hips lift off of the couch and your hands scramble to pull them off, something you’ve been waiting to do ever since they both showed up, but your movements aren’t fast enough for the princess; that much is obvious in the way she growls before grabbing your hips, pulling them to the edge of the couch and quickly wrenching your shorts and underwear down.

The startled yelp that leaves your mouth quickly turns into a gasp as the air hits your pussy, the slickness making the air colder than it is as Shuri pushes your legs further apart. The sound of your folds separating with a squelch has a hissed breath leaving Shuri’s mouth, her eyes focusing on the part of you that she loved to bury her face into; the part of you that fed her when she was thirsting for you and gave her life while simultaneously making her want to stay until she could no longer breathe.

“How’s our girl looking, ‘Ri?”

Em’s question comes right before her hands abruptly pull your shirt up and reach beneath the cups of your bra, replacing them with her cold, firm hands. In a single motion, she has them spilling out, the straps of your bra falling down your shoulders. She rolls them in the palms of her hands, your back arching as her fingers tweak your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and gently pulling on them.

Shuri presses the pad of her thumb right onto your clit, the pressure making you jerk slightly. She drags it down between your folds, collecting the slick that’s gathered and just spreading it more, taking special care to spread it around your entrance. Your eyes threaten to close at her actions, your jaw becoming slack as heavy breaths leave your mouth; but you’re hellbent on watching everything they do to you. You had been waiting for this moment; you’d be damned if you didn't see everything.

Shuri’s voice is rough but proud as she answers Em’s question. She slows her motions, drawing out the sounds that come from her thumb swirling through your folds.

“She’s practically dripping, and its all for us.”

“And we not wasting a drop of it, are we?”

Instead of answering, Shuri separates her thumb from your clit before lifting it. Before she can get far, Em’s hand is reaching forward to grab it, lowering her head until she can wrap her lips around Shuri’s thumb. She’s positioned right over you, giving you the perfect view of how her jaw works as she swirls her tongue around Shuri’s fingers, collecting every inch of your arousal she could.

Em hums as she pulls back, the sound coming from low in her throat and shooting straight to your center.

“Oh, we not wastin’ that.”

Shuri lets go of your necklace, but its only to grab the backs of your knees and hike them into the air. She places a knee on the edge of the couch, pushing your knees towards your ears and just about folding you in half. As if they had communicated without speaking, Em’s hands replaced Shuri’s, keeping your legs suspended.

Needless to say, your flexibility had improved greatly after fucking around with Emerald Haywood and Shuri.

The position has your pussy bared to Shuri in its entirety, clenching around nothing in anticipation for the slight burn of being stretched.

Shuri’s eyes take it all in, dark and half lidded as if intoxicated from the sight, the smell, and the sound alone.

“What's your safe word?”

You can barely get the word out, your breath trembling. Her question only tells you that what's about to happen to you may warrant a safe word. It isn’t surprising, as it was a regular occurrence for both of them to ask for your safe word in separate settings…but being reminded of it while being in the clutches of both Emerald and Shuri had you trembling.

You have the nerve to think that she’ll continue even without you answering the question, but when her eyes, questioning and demanding at the same time, raise and meet yours…you know that it's in your better interest to answer.

“B-button.”

The word is barely out of your mouth before Shuri is wrapping a hand around the dildo and lining it up at your entrance, her eyes not straying from yours for a second.

“You good, ‘bae?”

Em’s voice is soft as she whispers into your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe where your kimoyo earring sits. She shifts so that the crook of her elbow holds your leg, freeing her hand and letting it go back to your breast. She firmly cups your breast in one hand, her fingers rubbing over your nipple slowly. You can only nod in silence, your lips parting and your breath leaving you quickly. Shuri’s eyes meet Em’s as she braces her hands against the back of the couch.

A cry tears from your throat as Shuri snaps her hips forward, burying herself until the base of the strap brushes slightly against your skin. The burn is familiar, as well is the feeling of being stretched close to your breaking point…but it's welcomed.

There’s a slight burn in your legs as they start shaking already, but you don’t have to worry about them moving.

“Open your eyes, babygirl.”

“Look at me.”

Both Em and Shuri’s voices ring out at the same time and your eyes open, not wanting to disobey either one of them. You hadn’t even noticed that they had closed, too engrossed in the feeling of Shuri firmly situated between your walls while Em’s hands worked you over, adding a layer of pleasure that penetrated your entire consciousness.

Your lips move soundlessly, your breath being stolen by the waves of pleasure wracking your body and lighting every nerve of yours on fire. You want to beg Shuri to just move- you want to feel the length of her hitting every spot it could reach inside you…but she just stays still, buried fully inside of you.

“Use your words, mamas.”

Emerald’s voice reminds you that you answer to both of them tonight, and its with great difficulty that you find your voice.

“I want you. Fuck, use me. Use me, use me-”

That was evidently all Shuri needed to hear.

Her fingers close around the necklace she gifted you, pulling you forward just enough for you to have the perfect view of her disappearing into you before pulling out and slamming back in. Every stroke makes you jerk slightly, though you can’t go far due to both of their grips on you.

The desperation and lust in your voice makes a quick breath leave Em, her own pussy throbbing slightly as she watches her princess drill into her babygirl. She can hear her own breaths, slightly louder than usual, as she quickly raises her fingers to her mouth, quickly swiping her tongue over them.

She only has to lean forward slightly to reach what she’s been wanting to touch all day.

Your legs threaten to close as her fingers land on your clit, but Shuri’s hand grabbing your ankle stops that from happening. In doing so, it only allows her to hit a different angle…a different spot; one that has black spots entering your vision.

Incoherent words leave your mouth at the overstimulation that's quickly building, forming a ball of heat in your stomach. It’s almost too much, having that one spot hit over and over, relentlessly, while Em worships your clit with only her fingers.

“Oooh, baby. I’m bout…I can’t. Em, please, I can’t hold it…”

Your words are slurred as your head lolls back. It lands in the crook of Em’s neck and she takes the chance to wrap her slender fingers around your jaw, tilting your head back more to where she can whisper directly into your ear. Her breath is hot as it brushes against your skin, and the small sensation makes another whine leave your throat.

“Yes, you can. Take it. Take it, babygirl.”

Her words only push you closer to the edge, making your moans rise in volume until…well, until you’re sure you’ll have to apologize to your neighbors in the morning.

There are a multitude of sounds echoing through the space around you; the sound of Shuri’s thighs slapping against your ass, the soft squelching that comes from her strap entering your pussy, her heavy breaths that she emphasizes each stroke with, Em’s whispered words that alternated between demands and words of praise.

Shuri can’t stop the sounds of pure lust from leaving her own lips as she drills into you. Her eyes rake down your body, lingering on the way your bare chest heaves and how the thin layer of sweat reflects the lights above you. They zero in on the way Em’s fingers rub relentlessly at your clit, slipping slightly because of how wet you are.

They zero in on how your hand lands on the back of Em’s neck, your acrylics digging slightly into her skin to hold her closer…and they zero in on the look of pure adoration, love, and lust in your half-lidded eyes as you look at her.

She can tell by the way you’re mumbling incoherently, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, that your orgasm is close to washing completely over you. While she loves to hear you whimper and plead for sweet release, knowing that she had you right under her thumb, she has to admit that the sight of you cumming is a sight that she’ll never grow tired of. Its the desire to see exactly that which makes her push your leg back further, opening you up even more and drilling almost impossibly deeper.

“Shuri, ‘m bout to cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“You gon cum? Hm?”

Em’s fingers speed up, enough to make your bottom half tremble with how fast her motions are.

“Didn’t we say you have to beg for it?”

Shuri’s words don’t affect her motions at all; if anything, they only intensify. It makes the cry that had slowly been building in the base of your throat leave your mouth, hoarse and full of pleasure.

“Please! Please, can I cum- please, let me, I can’t-”

There are tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as they shut tightly, making you miss the look shared between Emerald and Shuri.

Its easy for the both of them to share in a feeling of desire, as they both harbored a need to take care of you…and to fuck you so well you wouldn’t be able to remember your own name.

They communicated silently, only talking to you after they both gave subtle nods to each other.

“Let go. Let go, usana.”

Almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you, stealing your breath and making your body lock up. Your back arches off of the couch as your hand scrambles to grab something, eventually landing on Shuri’s wrist. It feels like it lasts for a few minutes, at least, and the entire time, you have to focus on not passing out. Its so intense that you can barely hear both Shuri and Em as they talk you through it.

You can feel Shuri as she continues to slowly pump into you, every detail on the strap rubbing deliciously against your walls, and you can still feel Em as she slows her movements down, only slightly, as she continues rubbing at your overstimulated clit.

It’s only after your body sags against the couch once again, breaths heavy and hard to control, that they both stop their movements. Shuri slowly slides out of you, making a small noise leave your mouth at the empty feeling that follows.

She lowers herself onto the couch beside you, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or dissatisfaction only to find nothing but something she would liken to ecstasy.

Em slowly brings her fingers to a stop, reveling in how slick they are, and reveling in the fact that it all belonged to you. She lets her wet fingers brush over any skin they come across as she drags her hand up your sweat covered body before gently lowering your legs . She uses the same hand to turn your face towards hers, your eyes fluttering as you tried to find her through your blurry vision.

“You good, ‘ma?”

You can only nod, an affirming tone escaping your throat. Ignoring the fact that your limbs are so heavy you can’t exactly move them yet and the realization that your legs will most definitely be nonfunctional tomorrow, you’d say that you were in a blissful state.

“How is she?”

Your vision clears just enough for you to see the satisfied smile on Em’s face as she looks at you, and it makes a groggy, tired grin appear on your face. She leans in, connecting her lips with yours for a few seconds before pulling back and planting another kiss on your forehead.

“She’s good. A lil out of it…but she’s good.”

‘Out of it’ is probably an understatement.

A soft laugh leaves Shuri’s mouth as her hand fixes your necklace around your neck, her fingers running gently over the small marks the necklace made in your skin. The sensation makes your head loll to the side to find her eyes, and when you do, her smile widens.

“What do you need, usana?”

You were coherent enough to recognize both of their questions as the same ones they asked after fucking you separately. The realization that you really had the best of both worlds within this relationship made your grin widen and made your heart soar.

“I’m okay. Just…stay here, both of you.”

That was something they both were eager to do, and it was evident in their actions. Shuri reaches down, grabbing her discarded sweatshirt before helping you sit up and pull it over your body. Em stands, making her way to the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth on the way only to quickly come back with it soaked in warm water.

She sits on the other side of you, taking notice of how quickly Shuri had unfastened the strap and set it to the side. The princess looks up and at Em, a fond and loving look on her face that’s undoubtedly a result of seeing the dopey smile on your face. Em shakes her head in amusement as she lowers herself onto the couch before using the wash cloth and cleaning between your legs. The feeling makes you jump slightly as it brushes against your sensitive bundle of nerves, Em gently reassuring you that she’s basically done before she even started.

The wash cloth is set somewhere, but you can only focus on the feeling of pure relaxation that's taking over your limbs, making a small yawn escape your mouth and your eyes close.

Your limbs are maneuvered by two sets of hands until you’re laying on someone’s chest, your body pressing along the line of theirs with their arm around your shoulders. The light scent of sage and lavender tells you that you’re laying on top of Shuri, and you look forward to the feeling of Em joining you, but a few seconds pass without that happening.

“How the hell we all gon fit on this couch?”

“We’ll figure it out. Come, my gem. You know you want to join.”

There’s a teasing tone in Shuri’s voice as she addresses Em, and you can feel one of her arms lift to presumably beckon her closer. Without even lifting your head, you reach out blindly until you grab onto her hand. You pull until her legs hit the couch, and only then do you scoot until you’re pressed against the back of the couch, making room for her to join.

“If I fall, I’m gettin on both of y’all’s asses.”

Your lips curve into a smile at her words and at the feeling of the couch dipping further. An arm is thrown around your waist, and the feeling of comfort intensifies as you’re embraced by the two people who hold your heart between them.

Shuri loves the early morning sunrise that your studio apartment gets in the morning. The floor to ceiling windows does wonders for allowing natural lighting into your space, and she’s found herself sitting in the space right in front of the clear glass, where the wooden floor of the main room meets the little one-two steps that lead into the tiled kitchen area. It’s where the light shines the brightest, where the heat of the suns beams is strongest.

Shuri communes with herself here, whenever she visits you. Early in the morning while you're still fast asleep, curled in your blankets and pillows just like you were now, Shuri takes the time to sneak away into the warm little spot on the floor, to meditate, to ground herself, to just think.

But sometimes, Shuri thinks too much.

She thinks of everything, and she thinks of nothing. Millions of thoughts plague her mind every day and every night, even protruding into her dreams, on the rare occasions she does have. It’s only in your arms that the thoughts quiet down, and the voices are held at bay, but they aren’t kept away for long. Because at some point, she’ll have to face them again, and they will consume her, and you aren’t always in her corner when she needs you to take them away.

So, she’s learned to sit with them. Let them overwhelm her brain like static. Eventually, they calm down, and she can breathe again. And it's mornings like these, where she sits in the glow of the morning sun, where the thoughts aren’t so loud, and Shuri’s mind is at ease, that she enjoys the most.

“What’chu doin’ up this early, princess?”

Her voice comes first - rich, smooth, slightly raspy from sleep, and for a moment. It’s addictive, especially now that she’s had the pleasure of hearing it in person, and not from her holographic screen next to her bed from the three of you falling asleep on call together.

Then, comes the gentle touch of her hand - short french-tipped nails brush against Shuri’s cheek and the warmth of her open palm causes the princess’s head to lean into it. She stands behind Shuri, and it takes all of her to not lean back into the other woman’s legs.

“Nothing, my gem,” Shuri assures Emerald, as she opens her eyes, greeted by the reflection of her lover caressing her face lovingly, “just thinking.”

Emerald is a sight to see in the morning. Sweats that hang dangerously low on her hips revealing the band of her boxers that are snug on her pelvis, and a loose cropped shirt that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair hangs low, curls obscuring her eyes, and it only makes her look more tempting to the princess.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” Emerald asks, moving to take a seat next to you, her body pointed to Shuri’s, which faces the window.

The princess shrugs, not really knowing the answer herself. “I don’t know, really.”

“Do you think a lot?”

“Unfortunately.”

Emerald hums in response, her hand still resting on Shuri’s cheek. “What about?”

“A lot of things,” Shuri answers, “a lot of things that would certainly overwhelm you, or (Y/N).”

“So, princess things?”

“Princess things…and then some.”

A soft chuckle escapes both of their lips, with a smile that stays on Emerald’s as she takes in Shuri’s appearance. She still had on the same sweatpants as yesterday, as well as the sports bra, but the sight couldn’t be any more delicious to the dark skinned woman. It didn’t help that her eyes were half-lidden and her curls were a mess, a sure sign that the princess was still riddled with sleep.

“I don’t like thinking sometimes,” Shuri mutters after a moment. Emerald hums once more, urging her to continue.

“It’s too much to think, sometimes. People expect me to, though. To think, to have all the answers. I do- well, not all the answers to everything, but I do get answers. But I also get overwhelmed. Sometimes…I wish someone else could do the thinking for a while. Let my brain get quiet for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to think, but I’m sure, compared to now, it was pleasant.”

Shuri mumbles on, and Emerald takes into account her body language as she speaks - she’s relaxed, but still slightly rigid. She can see it in the way Shuri’s stomach is tense, possibly with anxiousness. Emerald understands why, even though she jokes about it often; she knows the job of a royal isn’t easy, especially for Shuri. She think’s for everyone and has no outlet of her own to turn to.

“You don’t wanna think for a while, right?”

Shuri pauses for a moment, before nodding her head ‘yes’ in response.

“I can make that happen for you, princess.”

Before Shuri has a chance to question Emerald’s statement, she feels her other hand gliding against her midsection in a soothing, almost sultry motion. The low octave of which she spoke made warmth pool into Shuri’s stomach, into her core. Chocolate brown irises bore into each other deeply, tempting each other to lean in.

“I can help you stop thinkin’, is that what you want, baby?”

Shuri nods, this time her reaction is almost immediate. Emerald leans in and captures Shuri’s lips in a breathtaking kiss. It soon turns passionate; Emerald is on Shuri’s lap, and the princess’s grip on her hips is deadly as she whines into the kiss, heat pooling into Shuri's core, begging for attention.

Once the need for oxygen becomes too great, Emerald is the first to pull away, lips swollen and chest heaving from the intensity of the kiss. She stands, pulling Shuri up with her, and places a quick kiss onto the princess’s lips while tugging at her bottoms.

“Bed. Now.” Emerald demands. “And take these off, too. I’ma be right back.”

Shuri is quick to follow instructions - as Emerald goes to retrieve her strap from her bag in the storage closet, Shuri makes quick work at discarding her clothes and takes back her place on the bed, of which the three of you had retreated to at some point during the night after your previous lovemaking session.

It’s only when she’s back on the bed that she remembers your presence there, too, her eyebrows furrowed together. Although you were a deep sleeper, and can - and have - slept through violent storms and countless other loud actions, was Emerald seriously about to fuck her right next to you?

Out of her peripheral, Shuri sees Emerald return, her sweats discarded and now replaced with the boxer briefs needed for her strap. She makes a trek for the coffee table, grabbing the vibrator case that was discarded there the night prior, and from it, she produces one of the two vibrators from the set. A tiny bullet vibrator, and the sight of it alone forces Shuri to swallow the whine she desperately wants to emit, while she can feel her pussy leaking with anticipation.

Emerald climbs onto the bed, her presence demanding Shuri’s attention, knowing what the princess beneath her is thinking.

“Don’t think ‘bout her,” Emerald says, referencing your sleeping figure, your back turned to them as you snoozed soundly, deep in slumber, “don’t think, baby, just feel, can you do that for me?”

Fuck, Emerald is too good at this. Too good at taking command, too good at picking apart Shuri’s mind.

“Need you to let me in that pretty head of yours, princess. Let me take control,” Emerald leans down onto Shuri’s body, leaving kisses from her lips, trailing down her jawline, into the dip of her neck. It leaves the princess breathless, so much so that she doesn’t even hear when Emerald activates the vibrator.

“You gon’ let me in there, Princess?”

Shuri nods eagerly, but it’s nothing compared to the gasp that leaves her lips when Emerald presses the tiny bullet right onto Shuri’s dripping heat, the unholy noises that come from the vibrations and her slick meeting. The metal of the device is cold at first, but with Emerald’s skillful hands circling the device around Shuri’s clit in agonizingly slow motions, it’s not long before Shuri’s brain becomes muddled and weak.

“Fuck, fuck, Em, please…” Shuri whines when the device is place right onto her clit, which is only encouragement for the other woman to continue. There’s a slight tremble in Shuri’s legs already, and it gets Emerald excited.

“Princess is already goin’ dumb,” she hums affectionately right into Shuri’s ear, and the statement awakens something deep within her that she wasn’t aware was even present, “goin’ dumb over a lil’ vibe?”

Shuri’s ability to speak was stripped from her with Em’s words, even more so when she slipped a digit in between her seeping folds. A silent moan left Shuri’s lips at the added pressure, her head began shifting from side to side, overwhelmed from the littlest of contact.

Emerald pressed soothing kisses onto Shuri’s neck while her digit pumped in and out of Shuri’s folds, a gasp of her own slipping past her lips once she actually got a feel for how wet the princess was. Shuri’s pussy was practically sopping with slick, making her in and out motions seem effortless. There was so much, she was surprised her entire hand wasn’t covered with it. It was too tempting - Emerald had to have a taste.

Shuri’s eyes were closed, too caught up in the feeling of pleasure. The sudden absence of Emerald’s face in her neck made the princess whine, but it was soon replaced with a silent scream when the vibrator that had been abusing her clit for the past few minutes was removed, and replaced with Emerald’s tongue.

“Oh, fuck, n-no, Em, please-” but it was too late. The vibrator deactivated and discarded, Emerald’s now free hand went to place itself on top of Shuri’s abdomen, steadying the princess’s desperate attempts at shying away, but Emerald wasn’t having it. She added another digit, picked up the pace, and started curling her fingers inside Shuri’s velvety walls, trying to pinpoint the spot that would have her legs trembling. And when Emerald did find it, and started brushing it mercilessly while her tongue did wonders on Shuri’s clit, the princess couldn’t control the volume of her voice anymore.

“Em, em, I’m cumming-” Shuri whines, her eyes beginning to swell with tears of overwhelming pleasure, “please- please, I can’t- oh, Bast, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-!”

Emerald’s assault on Shuri’s pussy remained ruthless as the princess rode out her high, the blinding pleasure being taken out on the poor sheets and Emerald’s poor curls, but the sting only edged Emerald on further. It took everything in Shuri to not let the Black Panther strength overtake her as her legs closed around Emerald’s head, tremors racking through her limbs in waves. IT’s only when Shuri is coming down that Emerald’s actions begin to slow to a halt.

Emerald lifts her head to see Shuri, spent and breathless, her chest heaving from the intensity of her climax. She’s so effortlessly beautiful, it drives Emerald insane. She slowly pulls her fingers from Shuri’s fluttering core, making the princess’s legs close once again and her core clench around nothing. The lack of presence inside of her makes her whine, but Emerald has plans to fix that soon.

When Shuri opens her eyes once again, the sight before has the slick between her legs pooling once again. Emerald has brung the fingers which were previously buried deep inside of her to her lips, relishing in Shuri’s delectable taste. It’s a sight that has Shuri’s head falling back onto the pillow, desperate for Emerald’s touch once again.

Said woman climbs her way back up to Shuri’s face, taking care to glance at your figure to make sure you were still sleeping. Once your figure is confirmed to be still fast asleep, Emerald plants a series of kisses onto Shuri’s lips, of which the princess returns just as eagerly. “You good, princess?”

Shuri is too breathless to speak, so all that comes out in response is a nod and a short whine, which makes Emerald chuckle. “Got you so dumb, can’t even speak.”

Her words have an intense heat creep up Shuri’s neck, because she knew part of it was true. “That’s fine. I’ll just learn your body instead.”

Shuri jumps when the tip of the cool silicone brushes against her sensitive clit, another whine emitting from her lips. She’s about to question when did Emerald have time to slip the strap into place in her boxers, but the other woman is already a step ahead of her. She’s stroking Shuri’s thighs as she gets them into position, helping the princess relax, even though the events of her previous orgasm are still present in the light trembles that run through Shuri’s legs.

“Hold ‘em back for me baby,” it’s so embarrassing, but Shuri complies, holding the back of her knees in the crevice of her elbow, bearing her sopping wet heat to Emerald, and she all but gasps at the sight of such a pretty pussy on display just for her. It’s nothing compared to the pictures and videos she was blessed with until now, and Emerald takes her time drinking in the sight. Though it’s not long before Shuri gets needy again, and Emerald has to shush the princess with promises of taking care of her soon enough.

“Need you to do somethin’ for me, princess,” Emerald says, as she aligns the strap to Shuri’s entrance, lubricating the silicone with the other woman’s cum and slick, “Need you to focus on my strap, okay? Don’t think ‘bout nothin’ else, you hear me?”

Emerald’s hand rubs soothing strokes along Shuri’s inner thigh; the princess nods with a hum, but it’s not enough for Emerald this time. “Use your words for me, baby.”

“I will,” Shuri chokes out, “I’ll focus on the- oohh my god-!”

In the midst of Shuri’s response, Emerald pressed the silicone strap between Shuri’s folds, and she and Shuri watch as it disappears into the princess. Shuri wants to shout, scream, but nothing comes out of her throat, so she’s left in a silent scream as the overwhelming feeling of being filled by Emerald consumes her entire being.

Emerald buries herself to the base, her stomach brushing ever so gently against Shuri’s sensitive clit, and it makes the princess jerk and the strap inside of her to move ever so slightly, and Shuri is seeing stars.

She feels it, everything in its entirety. The veins that run the length of Emerald’s strap, the tip of it that is oh so close to brushing against that spongy spot of pleasure. And she’s full, so incredibly full and stuffed that there’s nothing else her mind can even begin to think about. Her brain has been emptied of everything else, and the only thing in it is Emerald, and how deliciously she's filling her.

Shuri can’t speak, and Emerald doesn’t force her to. Instead, she takes note of Shuri’s body language, allowing that to be her guide on how to proceed. Once Shuri has calmed down from the overwhelming sensation, and she begins to release noises of desperation, Emerald begins to move.

Her pace is slow and steady, but even so, it has Shuri belting out mewls of pleasure, incoherent babbles spewing from her lips, and it’s here that Emerald confirms she has officially made Shuri dumb for her dick, and the thought alone boosts her ego to incredible heights.

Though Emerald is enraptured by the pants and moans that are spilling out from Shuri’s lips, she can’t help but notice that there’s another spill of them, and when she turns to check on your supposedly sleeping figure, she finds you, in fact, not sleeping, but very much caught up in your own pleasure, with one hand fondling your breast, and the other rubbing circles into your own clit.

It causes her to chuckle, seeing you so easily worked up out of your sleep, and while she maintains her long, languid strokes into Shuri, she reaches over to you, surprising you when her two digits slip right into your slippery heat with ease.

Soon you and Shuri are moaning messes, so close to coming undone together, when Emerald has the best idea she’s ever had in her life.

“Shuri, baby, open your eyes for me,” and Shuri obliges, being met with the delicious sight of Emerald looking down at her with so much love and desire, and in following down her outstretched arm, she sees you, utterly lost on Emerald’s fingers pumping in and out of you as well.

“Can my princess come pleasure my babygirl? While I fuck you from behind? Can you do that for me?”

Emerald doesn’t even have to ask, because the minute she retracts her strap and her hands from both you and Shuri’s core, the princess makes quick work to settle herself between your legs, immediately dipping down to lick and suck at your clit, and you release a desperate, “Haaa, fuck, please…-!” when Shuri’s long fingers slip into your core to replace Emerald’s.

Not a moment passes before Emerald is right behind Shuri, once again aligning herself with the other woman's entrance, and Shuri releases a long, drawn out, “Fuuucckk,” when Emerald slips back inside of her with ease. She picks up her pace, her strokes causing the princess to jerk forward with every thrust, which in turn causes delicious friction against your clit as Shuri’s tongue laps and sucks as it with hunger. Heavy moans and high-pitched whines fill the tiny yet luxurious studio apartment, and as Shuri was still reeling from her last orgasm, it’s only natural that she’s also the first to feel the knot in her stomach tightening once again.

“Shuri, Shuri please, I wanna cum…!” you beg, which only insights her own spiel of whimpering for release, “fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Em, I’m cumming again!”

And Emerald would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling one coming for herself, too, because delivering these back shots to Shuri had the edge of the base of the strap brushing against her own clit just right in these boxers. She couldn’t hold out for long. None of them could.

“You gon’ cum for me, princess?” Emerald slurs, and Shuri’s hums of response in such a beautiful, lust filled voice has the dark skinned woman drunk, desperate to hear more. “You gonna make babygirl cum, too?”

“Pleeaaseee, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad, please!” Your squeal of desperation doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman, and it’s Emerald’s whispers of praise - ‘make us cum, princess’, ‘you’re doin’ so good, baby’, ‘fuck, you makin’ me feel that shit, baby’ - that drive Shuri over the edge.

Shuri cums once more, no, she squirts this time, her orgasm spraying all across the sheets and Emerald’s bottom half. You’re soon to follow, releasing right into Shuri’s mouth, and the princess drinks every last of your release. And Emerald is the last, her strokes becoming uncoordinated and unsteady as a sign of her impending climax, and it’s with one last thrust that she stills inside of Shuri, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the intensity of her own orgasm.

It takes a moment, but all three of you collapse back onto your respective places on the bed - Shuri in the middle, you on the right, and Emerald on the left, closest to the wall. In synchronized heaving and shared glances of love and adoration for one another, a smile graces on each of your faces.

“Well, if I ain’t know any better, I’d say this is a great morning,” hums Emerald, who is the first to recover. You and Shuri, still spent - Shuri more so, as she endured not one, but two earth shattering orgasms - release breathless laughs of agreement to the dark skinned woman.

“Goodmorning, my love,” Shuri hums, “and yes, great morning, my gem.”

“G’morning…” you yawn.

And what a good morning it was.

**********

A/N: Once again, we hope y’all liked this! TBH, we’ve been sitting on this for a while, but we’re just glad we’re getting it out there! There will be a LOT more collabs coming; we’re scheming <3

Stay safe​, y’all! <3

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