#same goes for any marvel content | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 2 years

Text

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ We Fight to Make Up

summary: after a run-in with your ex, steve's anger gets the best of him. sometimes you think he picks a fight just for the make up sex. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: smut, steve calls himself daddy once, briefly mentioned breeding kink, a touch of angst, insecure!steve, also steve with scruff because that needs a warning too, 18+ mdni a/n: ok i'm not the happiest with this but it's been sitting in my drafts for so long and she needs to see the world now so.. enjoy? <3

You don’t go out anymore. None of the party does, really.

Fighting through the end of the world and somehow surviving for three years straight made bars and clubs and getting drunk seem a little less important. It gets too easy to stay within the inner circle that’s seen the same sort of hell you’ve seen.

Eventually, time goes on and you don’t realize that you’ve only been around the same ten people until the thought of going to the grocery store alone sounds scary.

Fighting monsters, weathering alternate dimensions, beating up Russians soldiers — that’s cake. It’s the getting back to normal that’s so hard.

That's a bitter pill to swallow. None of you got to have too much of a childhood before the knowledge of a sentient darkness swirling beneath your feet turned everything upside down (no pun intended). A life with a regular routine unbound by the impending doom of an armageddon is hard to go back to, when fighting to stay alive is all you’ve ever done.

You try really hard, though. All of you do.

The kids try to find a nostalgic amusement in the arcade they used to frequent while grappling with the fact that they’ll never been those kids again. The older group of you dabbles in the simple pleasure of growing up and discovering what adulthood really means — getting drunk and going dancing just because you can, but facing the inevitable consequences of those actions all on your own.

The six of you find a certain solace at the Limelight. For Steve and Jonathan, they serve good beer — obviously cheap and unusually tangy on the tongue, but nice and cold nonetheless. For Eddie and Robin, there’s a karaoke machine and a stage across the bar, complete with every rock ballad imaginable. You and Nancy take special interest in the dance floor — a platform with light-up rainbow squares for all your drunken twirling needs.

It’s a nice place. More than that, it’s a familiar one. Eventually, going there every friday night is like comfort food in the belly, pleasant and warm. Steve feels safe there when he’s with all of you and tonight he’s especially fuzzy with a quiet sort of happiness that’s got his cheeks all pink.

Maybe the beer is partly to blame.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve got your hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, anchoring yourself to him and simultaneously fending off any unwanted attention from the scantily clad women around you who can't seem to take their eyes away from your Steve.

But he only watches you as you smile into your glass while Eddie Munson, all sweaty after his Madison Square Garden worthy rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, tells some stupidly unfunny joke. You’re pressed contently into his side, like you would melt into him if you could, and he’s buzzing with the comfort of your warmth and the chemically induced mellow from the drink in his cup.

It was a good night. An easy one. A fun one.

And then it just… wasn’t.

When your ex waltzes into the bar, he brings the cold air in with him and an unusual sophisticated energy that’s typically foreign to this side of town. He’s got on a gray corduroy blazer and slacks to match. The black turtle neck he wears beneath it clings to his lean torso and broad chest, like he wants people to marvel at how muscular he is.

You don’t even realize it’s him at first. You turn to Nancy to talk shit about the douchebag at your eight o’clock that just walked in while the guy settles at the far end of the bar, around the corner that faces the group of you. He removes the dark Ray-Bans from the straight bridge of his nose and uses them to push back his cinnamon-colored curls.

Steve feels you tense at his side then. You duck inside yourself and force him and Robin to form a makeshift shield around you.

It’s a tad too dramatic for two people who ended on pretty decent terms. It was about as amicable as a breakup can be — you were both seventeen and thankfully already mature enough to know that the relationship wasn’t bound to make it outside of high school. So you split up in search of more fulfilling things.

You found yours, in Steve and in the rest of the party. And by the looks of it — the obviously expensive suit and the silver Rolex glittering under the dim yellow bar light — he found his.

You aren’t exactly sure how, but he sees you.

Probably because Robin couldn’t stop ogling at him from over her shoulder, obviously not getting the hint to act casual and inevitably dragging his attention over to the group of you.

He’s confused by the attention at first and then beaming when he notices you. The man flashes a set of pearly whites beneath a plump pink grin, all but shoving through the crowded bar to come and meet you.

Steve is able to get a better look at him when he’s no more than a couple inches away. The guy wrenches you away from him to wrap you in a friendly embrace, smiling like a ray of a thousands suns while he laughs with a hearty mirth.

A childlike and terribly jealous scowl settles upon Steve's features as his stomach wrenches something fierce. This stranger is touching you, and he hates that he’s touching you, but it’s more than that.

Steve’s almost certain this is what he would look like if he hadn’t been through the end of the world. The ornate suit and sunglasses worth more than most people’s salaries could’ve been his. In another life, he could’ve been this pretty and perfect and pure.

But, instead, here he is — dressed in an aged Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt and hand-me-down jeans that are frayed at the hems. There are bits of dried blood on the knee that he can’t get out. He isn’t quite sure if it’s his or if it belongs to one of the three varying monsters he’s been face-to-face with over the years.

His hair is pushed back and visibly un-styled, fluffier than usual because it hasn’t been washed in a while. And only now does he notice the prickly layer of scruff itching at his jaw and above his lip because the effort to shave is just too much sometimes.

He wishes he had, though. Now, he wants to completely perfect his appearance and change his life entirely — all at the sight of some stranger he didn't know existed before now.

The man introduces himself to the rest of the group when he parts from you — Todd.

Because of coursehis name is Todd.

No one says that out loud, of course, but you do share pairs of knowing looks. Eddie’s the only one brave enough, or rather drunk enough, to take the piss out of the guy.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for Limelight?” he asks before laughing into his beer.

The rhetorical question leads to the man, Todd, to start complaining about work — how he’s making more than he knows what to do with, that the lifestyle isn’t as lavish as everyone made it out to be, that work is his best friend most days because he doesn’t have time for real relationships anymore.

And it doesn’t sound braggy. This isn't some rich guy complaining about all the money he has. He’s genuine, and that’s somehow even worse.

Steve can tell he’s working for some big four accounting firm without him having to say it. He can practically smell it all over the guy. Todd’s just got that air about him, that he’s got an office on the fiftieth story with large glass windows that span from the floor to the ceiling. He’s making well into the six-figures if that’s the case. Just like his goddamn dad.

Just like he would be if the endless cycling of fighting hadn’t stripped him flesh from bone.

Steve forces himself to shove that thought to the back of his mind.

“You know I’ve actually been thinking about, you know, just dropping everything. Putting in my two weeks and fucking off to France,” Todd admits. His eyes sparkle like a pair of fucking diamonds when they lock in on you. “Like we always used to talk about.”

That was your dream. The kind of reverie that wasn’t at all practical or the least bit tangible, but the kind you fantasized about nonetheless.

And here this asshole goes, living it for the both of you.

You’re grinning at him anyway, patting him on the shoulder while you congratulate him. You tell him he should do it. That he deserves it.

Steve, meanwhile, is so angry he can feel the prickle of the red-hot rage on his skin, like so many little needles. It’s a simmering heat for now, all slow and lazy. The longer he holds it in, the more likely he is to pop into a full boil. He knows that. But he keeps the fire in his chest and wallows in that high-pitched ache.

Todd leaves not too long after. Makes it a point not to overstay his welcome. He’s polite when he goes, making sure to talk to all your friends even though he didn’t exactly come for them — he compliments Eddie’s leather jacket and Robin’s taste in style, Jonathan and Nancy are both blushing pink when he praises their work with the local paper. He says something to Steve he can’t quite register because he’s too busy fuming.

The brunette girl beside him is practically swooning, and he has to remind her — “Robin, you’re gay.”

The man was kind, terribly so, the sort of politeness you can’t help but notice and marvel at, like a pretty pebble you’ve found on the ground. He didn’t overstep any boundaries with you either, like he respected that you two were practically strangers now — fucking asshole — and whether or not he knew you were with Steve, he kept a chivalrous distance anyway.

He must’ve known, though, he did have eyes after all. There’s no way he missed the way Steve had been looming over you the whole time. Or the possessive arm he had around your shoulder. Or the stern chocolate gaze that had ping-ponged between you and him the entire conversation.

When he leaves, there’s nothing to talk shit about or make fun of him for. Not only is that really fucking annoying, but it’s boring, and it leaves you and Steve as the punching bags for all their stupid jokes.

“You certainly have a type, don’t ya, doll?” Eddie teases you as he reaches behind Nancy to shove at your shoulder. “Steve’s practically a carbon copy of that douchebag.”

“Holy shit, I can see it now,” Robin marvels breathlessly. Her deep ocean gaze is still locked on Todd across the bar. He’s minding his own business now, ordering another drink, while the rest of you can’t seem to stop talking about him. She turns back to Steve, her eyes flitting over his features like it’s the first time she’s seeing them while she puts the pieces of a puzzle together.

“But, Steve’s like the dollar store version of him, though, right?” she wonders rhetorically and then feels the need to explain herself when Steve furrows his brows at her. “—Because, you know… he’s a lot richer than you are…”

The boy rolls his and brings the beer back to his lips. The clarification makes it sting more.

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve isn’t quite sure what’s got him seething. He’s the personification of a forest fire now — scorching, raging, and deadly — without a reason to be. It’s entirely likely you’ll never see Todd ever again. He lives in the city these days and he just told you that he was planning on moving to fucking France.

But these facts don’t mean as much to him when he knows that the guy isn’t totally over you.

Steve knows Todd would be more than happy to take you out for coffee tomorrow morning to tie up any left-behind loose ends. He’s a rich guy going through a quarter-life crisis (Steve knows a little about what that’s like, too), he’d be more than happy to sweep an old ex-girlfriend off her feet and take her all the way to France with him. She’d need only to ask him to.

Maybe that’s what angers him. There’s a man, all rich and pretty and unscathed by war, that might love you like he does.

The wildfire in his chest grows. It’s a wonder it hasn't seared a hole in the fabric of his sweatshirt. And it burns. It leaves aching blisters on his skin like it’s the real damn thing. It’s like punches to the face, worse than every time he’s ever been beaten up combined.

He manages to keep the ashes of himself together. It's the least he can do for the rest of you, who obviously aren’t as bothered by Todd’s lingering presence and have since moved on to things more meaningful.

It wouldn’t be fair to project his ache onto you.

You guys don’t get too many nights like this, with work and school and lingering bouts of PTSD — who’s he to ruin this night for everyone else when he’s the problem?

But if any of you notice his simmering anger, you don’t show it.

He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or not.

Nancy and Jonathan stay no longer than fifteen minutes after the fact. “We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” the say with a shrug, though everyone knows what that’s code for. Robin makes kissing noises at them as they make their exit.

Now, the brunette girl stands in front of the stage that Eddie parades on. He belts “If you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever!” into the microphone for the hundredth time. She cheers for the boy like it’s the first time she’s ever heard the stupid song.

The bartender hands you two drinks, a couple of Sex on the Beach’s for you and Robin to try.

She hadn’t stopped talking about it since she spotted it on the menu even though she hates peach schnapps. You tell Steve you’re going to run it to her and that you bet she won’t make it through one sip without gagging. You also promise that you’ll try and pull Eddie away from the stage when the Bonnie Tyler song fades and then inevitably loops again.

He only nods and mumbles a vague affirmative under his breath. He doesn’t even look at you. Just stares down at his empty glass of beer and draws patterns on the cloudy cup with his finger.

It’s hard not to notice his uncharacteristically long silence.

He hasn’t been King Steve for quite some time, but that version of him always manages to peek out after a couple of drinks. He gets loud and brash and smiley and stupid. It makes the quiet demeanor he possesses now that much more daunting. Like a flag he’s waving to make sure everyone else knows that he’s upset about something or other.

Eventually, it makes you burst.

“Is something wrong?” you blurt.

He finally glances at you then. And has the gall to look confused. “What?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. You shift your weight on your feet and try to ignore the distant stinging of the ice glasses in your hand, how the cold of them shoots pins and needles into your palms. “You’re just… being really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses with a shrug of his own. A hint of a smile flashes at the very corner of his mouth before he brings his drink to his lips. He swallows down the rest of it in one quick gulp. You watch anxiously as he waves to the bartender for another.

“We can go home if you want—”

“Jesus, I’m fine,” he interjects. The laugh that spills from his throat borders on annoyance. “Just go get the freak before he drives me crazy.”

With that, the two of you part ways. You, with the knowledge that something’s wrong with your boyfriend but having no way to make it better because he won’t tell you anything. And Steve, with another irrational reason to be angry at the world because how do you not get it?

If his ex-girlfriend showed up to a bar, looking like an airbrushed model with more money than all of you combined who’s got brains and wit and humility, he’d want you to get a little fucking jealous too.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he chooses to wallow in his anger than reflect on it, anyway. He takes pity on himself and makes everyone else out to be the enemy. Like he does best.

Even hours later, when he’s sobering up with room temperature water and a bowl of pretzels — and you’re calling a cab for a significantly drunker Eddie and Robin — he still feels the sting.

He makes sure you know it too.

The drive back home is uncomfortably quiet, which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he at least had the radio on. But when he stuck the key into the ignition and music started blaring from the speakers (because he forget to turn it down beforehand), he turns it off completely. You feel to awkward to touch it.

“Do you, uh… Do you wanna talk about it now?” you ask him.

You’re unfamiliarly timid with him as you peer at him through your lashes. It’s like you’re looking at the sun, the way you have to glance at him from the corner of your eye so he won’t blind you. And it isn’t because of his usually sunny disposition because, somewhere along the course of the night, his shine got snuffed out. It’s because he’s practically lit himself on fire with his anger where he sits next to you.

And he still has the nerve to shake his head. “Talk about what? I told you, there’s nothing wrong,” he dismisses with one hand in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the other resting its elbow against the driver’s side door while his fingers pick anxiously at his lower lip. Nothing wrong, my ass.

“Are we seriously gonna play that game tonight?”

“What game?” he scoffs out a laugh.

“The game here you’re upset about something, but refuse to tell me why, so I have to guess what’s wrong with you until I get it right and you let me make it better.”

Steve glances at you and then back to the road. “I… I don’t do that.”

Oh, fuck, he totally does, he thinks to himself. Fuck, he hates that you know him so well.

“You’re literally doing it right now.”

“Well, I can’t be. Because I’m not upset about anything,” he argues with a shrug. “That’s, like, a mathematical impossibility. Or whatever.”

“Considering this is the most you’ve said to me all night, I know that isn’t true— And it’s not even a conversation! You’re just being passive aggressive!”

“Passive aggressive, huh?” he repeats sardonically.

“Yes!” you seethe. “You’re mad at me and I can tell that you’re mad, so just tell me why—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Steve grumbles. He feels even more like shit for making you think he was acting all pissy because of something you had done. You hadn’t done anything. You were perfect. You’re always perfect. And here he goes, making you think otherwise.

He slows to a stop at the last red-light before home. The neon scarlet matches that anger sweltering in his belly. He still refuses to look at you.

“Then what happened between when we got to Limelight and right now that’s got you so fucked up?” you ask him with a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes.

The boy only huffs. His chest deflates with a heavy breath. He almost forgets to answer you because he’s too busy praying for the light to turn green so he can get the fuck home.

He just needs a little food in his system, he concludes, and a nice hot shower and a bed to rest his tired bones. Maybe then he’ll be able to function like he’s meant to.

He feels a sense of relief for the first time in hours when the light bathes the two of you in a neon emerald glow.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose at his silence. You shake your head at him like an annoyed parent and cross your arms over your chest. Your knees turn away from him and towards the door in time with your gaze that flits to the window. Now you’re the one that’s pissed.

Steve mumbles lowly when he finally answers you. It’s nearly inaudible.

“Your douchebag ex.”

“What?” you reply, sparing a glance over at him. It isn’t a question of whether you heard him or not, but of why that’s what he’s being so mean to you about.

“Your douchebag ex,” he repeats louder and picks chapped skin from his bottom lip. He rubs his tongue over the irritated skin to soothe the burn. “That’s what I’m upset about.”

Your brows furrow as you rack your head for the conversation you had with Todd that you’d already forgotten about. He’d said hello, and that you looked nice, and then asked you what you’d been up to before making conversation with your friends. He’d wished you luck and walked back to his seat not too long after. You wonder if there was some code in his words that you’d missed.

“…I don’t get it. What did he do?”

“Really?” Steve wonders with an emotionless laugh. “You don’t have a single clue why that might’ve pissed me off?”

He barely slows at the sign of the four-way stop. The block is practically a ghost town now. No one’s out so late into the night. Any other time you might’ve said something about it, but you’re just as eager to get home as the simmering boy next to you.

“No! He stopped by to talk for, like, five minutes! Are you really upset because another man talked to me?” you shout and it burns him because, yeah, that is kind of what he’s mad about — but it’s more than that and you don’t seem to get it. It’s not your job to either. He’ll just burn for the both of you.

The car jerks to a stop when he parks in the driveway.

“Yeah, you’re right—” Steve mutters to himself as he snatches the keys from the ignition. “You don’t get it.”

You feel the impact of the slammed of the car door as he exits. The headlights illuminate the boy as he uses his key ring to unlock the front entrance of your shared home. The dim orange overhead light slowly dims above you and then shuts off completely, bathing you in darkness.

With a sigh and a fleeting thought of oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh? you follow less unenthusiastically behind him.

“Then just explain it to me,” you plead, your voice coated with exhaustion. The warmth of the living room seeps into your bones and makes you that much more tired. “I really, really don’t wanna do this tonight.”

“That asshole was all over you,” Steve finally chooses to air his grievances while he toes off his sneakers.

“He hugged me once! What was I supposed to do? Push him off?”

“That’d be a start.”

“I would’ve done it!” you promise.

He plops onto the couch with a rather dramatic huff as you struggle to take off your boots, what with the zipper getting caught in the slider and being distracted by the storm cloud across the room.

“I don’t care about him! I literally haven’t seen him since I was eighteen! I basically forgot he existed in the first place.”

Steve doesn’t let himself take any solace in your words.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs with the shake of his head. He rests his elbows on his knees, runs his palms over his face once before dragging his fingers through his mussed hair. “Sometimes… I don’t know, I guess, sometimes it feels like maybe you deserve someone better than me.”

His confession feels like a stab in your heart.

You can only imagine how many daggers are piercing him now.

“Steve…”

“No. Don’t give me that bullshit spiel, alright?” he spurns with a shake of his stubborn head. When he laughs, it lacks any and all emotion; it’s gut-wrenchingly bitter and coated with venom. “We both know he could take way better care of you than I ever could. He’s practically a fucking millionaire, babe! And he’s, what, twenty-five? He has the money to drop everything and fly across the world— to France.”

“Steve—” you try again, to stop the spiral before it starts.

He doesn’t let you.

“I mean, fuck, I know how bad you wanna go there. You’ve been talking about it since we were eight,” he laments with wide, glassy eyes and an hand splayed out towards you. He brings it, then, to his chest and clutches at his heart, “But I can’t take you. Because I’m so broke, it fucking hurts. You deserve someone to do that shit for you, alright? And it’s not me. It’s never gonna be me.”

“…You really think he can take better care of me than you do?” you ask him so quietly that it sounds like a whimper. Your face is twisted in anguish, like his sadness pains you too.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles like the answer’s obvious. He sniffles. “Considering we’re working our asses off just to make it through the week and you’d never have to work a day in your life if you were with that asshole.”

“It’s not about the money, Steve,” you agonize with the shake of your head. “I don’t love him. I would be so unhappy if I were with him because he’s not you. I don’t give a single fuck about France if you’re not gonna be there with me.”

You close the distance between you as you walk from the entrance to where he sits in the living room. He can hardly look at you as you round the couch to stand ahead of him, sparing only meek glances your way.

The small smile on your lips only half puts out the fire raging in his chest. It’s one of those natural wildfires now. The kind that you’ve just got to let burn.

“What do I have to do, Steve? What do you want me to do to prove that I just want you?” you ask him softly, nudging your sock-clad foot with his own. “I’ll fucking— I’ll find his number in the phone book right now and invite him over if you want—”

Yeah, because seeing him again is gonna make any of this shit better, he thinks bitterly to himself, though he’s pleasantly surprised by your following promise.

“I’ll make him come over here, act like I wanna catch up or whatever, and then make him watch while I suck your cock,” you paint the picture for him in a suddenly low, sultry tone.

Steve can almost see it — the look on Todd’s face as he stands in the foyer, his hands balled into fists at his side, wearing an angry amber tint upon his perfect face while he watches the girl that got away take a mouthful of another man’s dick. “I’ll get all nice and pretty on my knees for you and make him watch.”

Steve tenses at your words. His fingers twitch where they rests on his knees, itching to get a hold of you. His eyes go heavy as he gazes up at you, his stern stare looking much darker than before — hungrier.

Your eyes carry a similar sort of desire. They swim with innocence and yearning and knowing.

Because both of you understand how your fights usually end. You’ve been together long enough to know. The anger grows and grows in the belly of a dragon until it’s all you can do to keep your hands off of each other. You make Steve come so hard he forgets all the reasons he was raging in the first place and then he apologizes with his tongue deep inside you, touching you in all the tender ways he knows how.

“Yeah,” he breathes with a nod, the word heavy on his tongue. “That’s what I want.”

“You wanna own me, don’t you, Stevie?” you purr.

Your movements are calculated and cat-like as you mount him. Your hands caress him from his knees to his thighs, then rise up to his chest when you straddle his lap. “You wanna fuck me and make me forget about every guy that’s ever had me before you. Is that it?”

He nods, too dumb to speak for now. Your voice is all silk and heat. It reminds him of your wet, hot pussy sitting just over his lap. Only the thin layers of your clothes separate you from him.

“You wanna ruin everyone else for me, huh?”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, both in an answer and a moan as your hand reaches between you to grab his cock through his jeans.

“You already have,” you assure with a sincere twinkle in your eyes. “But feel free to remind me.”

When your mouths collide, it’s all tongue and teeth and spit. It’s not passionate, it’s dirty.

His tongue forces its way between your lips and into your mouth, rubbing every part of you he can reach with the muscle, like he wants you to feel all of him there — a lingering touch that you can’t get rid of.

Your mouths caress each other and then break apart again in acute, wet, and filthy clicks that fill the silence in the house.

His stubble softly scratches you as it rubs against your skin. The feeling of it sends chills down your spine. Fuck, you curse to yourself. It’d feel even better between your legs.

Steve separates from you suddenly, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. A whimper leaves your throat as he mouths at it. With hooded eyes, he lets it go and watches it fall back into place. Then he grabs your cheeks with two large palms and drags you back to him, sucking on the bitten skin and then on your tongue.

The sensation’s got you moaning, your eyes rolling back in your head, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Your obedient hands worm between your bodies to unbuckle his belt.

“You gonna be good for me?” Steve asks you while your fingers undo that button on his pants. His lips are pinker and more swollen, coated with a fine sheen of spit that matches what's smeared on his chin.

“I’ll be so good for you, Stevie,” you promise before reaching through the band of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his warm, half-hard cock.

A grunt escapes his throat as he slides your panties to the side. He’s suddenly grateful for the easy access granted by your dress — the one that makes your tits look like heaven, the one he was cursing just hours because it had Todd drooling all over himself when he saw you.

The thought of the man no longer angers him. He’s not the one with his finger between the lips of your pussy, already drenched and coated with you.

“Yeah? You want daddy to fill your hungry little cunt?” Steve asks you, almost taunting you. He only uses that nickname when he’s in a certain mood — the mood to ruin you.

The tip of his finger catches the peak of your swollen clit and you keen.

His touch makes you so stupid that you’ve already forgotten to answer his question. He makes sure to remind you, though, when his hand rears back and smacks against the bare flesh of your cunt.

You hear the wet slap before you feel it.

It makes you clench around nothing and moan louder for him, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Words,”he demands softly.

“Please,” you moan helplessly into his shoulder. You love when he gets like this, assertive and showy with the power you let him have over you. He gets mean with you, but never too much that you forget how much he loves you, and that’s when you like him best.

His finger slips so effortlessly into you. You could easily take more than that with the way your pussy is so eager to suck him inside. He knows it, too. He just wants to tease you.

He wants to leave you empty and yearning before he fucks you silly. For now, he’s taunting you with his slow and clinical touch, observing everything he’s doing to you and how it has you twitching and begging for more.

He wants to commit it all to memory.

He’s barely got the tip of his pointer and middle finger prodding at your clenching entrance; it’s your pussy that drags them further in, opening for him and then tightening around the appendages so they’ll never leave. The obscenity of it makes both of you moan.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Steve mutters to himself. “And so fucking wet— enough for me to slip right in, don’t ya think?”

You’re not so sure but you nod into his shoulder anyway. Even after all this time together, you can’t quite get used to how big he is. He still has to work you up to take his cock, with three or more fingers shoved inside of you until you’re ready. Even then, it still burns for the first couple of seconds. There’s always a grace period that you have to wait for before he can move.

And you feel the ache of him in your belly after, every damn time. Like he’s still there.

But you’re so wet now, impossibly so, you don’t think you could feel a thing other than pure bliss when he nestles his cock deep inside of you.

You whine quietly when he pulls his fingers from you, though it turns into a breathy moan when you see them glisten with your wetness. He slides them over his length, jerking himself to lube himself up for you. Just for good measure, he grabs hold of his cock and rubs the rounded tip between your velvet lips, coating it further with your slick.

“Think there’s enough for me to take your ass tonight, baby?” he asks over your low moan. He has to hold back his own, grit his teeth to keep it from leaving his mouth. God, you feel exactly like silk. “You want me to fuck that tight little hole, huh? You’ve only let me in there, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer tightly.

He doesn’t know which question you’re answering. Probably all three. Or maybe you’re just moaning because he’s got you all stupid with his cock and it’s not even inside of you yet. Both seems most likely.

Steve positions himself against you. When you feel the bulbous tip of his head, you hardly wait to slide down, down, down upon his cock.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel full. It takes less time before he reaches the apparent end of you. The feeling makes you jolt against him, like your body’s trying to move back up and away from the sensation on instinct. He’s quick to grab your hips to keep himself inside you.

“Uh-uh,” he hums. “Don’t run away from me.”

“Fuck,” you moan into his shoulder and then whine. The pleasure and the accompanying ache has your head spinning. “You’re already so deep.”

“I know, baby. You gotta take all of me, though, okay? Said you were gonna me by good girl, remember?”

His coo is enough to comfort you. You nod against his neck and let him guide you further and further down his cock.

You grit your teeth when you think he can’t possibly fill you anymore. The burn peaks all at once and ebbs so quickly, letting the rest of his inches slide in you with ease. And, god, if you don’t feel him in your fucking throat.

He stills, thankfully, and lets you get used to the feeling of him all over again.

“There you go,” Steve praises like he always does and then laughs at how rigid you’ve gone. “Breathe, baby.”

The exhale comes out as a sob and a small “fuck”, but you force yourself to relax against him nonetheless. His warm hands rub soothingly against the buzzing skin of your thighs beneath the skirt of your dress. “Doing so good for me, baby.”

“I can feel you in my fucking guts right now,” you slur, voice fragile like glass.

Your words are almost enough to make him burst and you haven’t even moved yet. A deep, hearty groan climbs from his throat. He tips his heavy head to the back of the couch and clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the feeling.

He makes himself climb down from the peak of pleasure and quickly gain his bearings all over again.

“Ride me, honey,” he whispers you.

Immediately, you start rocking your hips against him. His sigh is blissful, almost dreamy, as he watches you work yourself on top of him.

You’re always so patient with your pleasure, so calculated and attentive. You slide your hips back over his thighs and then up again, moaning every time the material of his sweatshirt rubs against your clit. You’re not chasing the feeling, you’re letting it come slowly and ease its way up to you. You know you’ve got all the time in the world.

Steve has always admired your patience, but it’s never one he could hope to possess. He rides toward an orgasm on a white mare. He claims it, he hunts it, he snatches it. Because, you’re right, you’ve got all the time in the world — he wants you to come as many times as the night (or, rather, your pussy) will allow.

So it isn’t at all surprising when gets impatient with your slow movements. And when one hand falls to your ass and the other slides up your back and clutches the opposite shoulder, you know what you’re in for.

Even though you’re expecting it, a high-pitched moan spills from your mouth when he starts fucking up into you. He’s doing a whole lot more than just hitting the right spot. The rubbing of the fabric is unrelenting against your clit.

You’re always done for when he takes you like this. Both of you know it.

“You already close, aren’t you?” he manages through heavy pants over the lewd slapping of his thighs against your own. “This is all it takes, huh?”

“’S because of you,” you slur into the sticky skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He can feel himself getting closer and he groans through gritted teeth. The hand on your shoulder ascends to the back of your head. His fingers tangle in your hair and pull you from the refuge you’d found in the book of his shoulder. It allows him to see you for the first time since you’d mounted his cock.

Your cheeks are blotchy and glowing cherry. Your eyes are glassy and glazed over with pleasure. Your lips swollen from where you’d been biting at them.

Perfect, he thinks to himself.

He drags that hand to your chest, wrenching at the plunging neck and pushing it down to reveal your tits. They bound out of the fabric with ease, a small red and raw line at the tops of them from where the dress had kept them so tightly contained.

He palms at your left breast, digs his fingers into the fat of it and lets your hard and pebbled nipple rub against his palm.

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whines. It takes all of his willpower to keep his eyes open to look at them. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why I wore this— wanted your attention—” you confess through each of his thrusts.

“Yeah, you got my fucking attention, sweetheart,” he manages a breathy laugh.

His heart swells at the thought of you picking this dress because you thought he might like it. That you’d think of him doing something as mundane as picking what you wore out to the bar you went to every Friday night.

It gets too easy to want to slip into that softness. But he knows that you’re already close. So, so fucking close.

“Now come all over my cock for me, yeah?” he demands softly. “Cream on this dick and show me how good you are.”

And, like the good girl you are, don’t need to be told twice.

You shudder against him and then go rigid. He watches with a proud, lazy grin as you tip your head back, squeeze your eyes shut, and let your mouth fall agape. The feeling in your stomach builds and builds and builds, the pleasure disappearing for a moment, before coming back in an explosion that makes you gush.

As though your moans weren’t enough of a confirmation of your orgasm, you go so unmistakably tight around him that it makes his legs twitch beneath you. He angles his hips so he can peek between the two of you to watch the sheen of your cum glisten on his hard cock.

“God, you’re so fucking sensitive like this— holy shit.”

“Steve!” you whine when your high starts to fade and his thrusts only quicken.

He's chasing his own pleasure now, you know that, but the feeling against your abused pussy is growing into a nearly unbearable one.

You bite your lip so hard it’s a wonder you don’t draw any blood. You grip his shoulders and ball his sweatshirt in your fist, tethering yourself to him and to reality.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” he asks with his chin jutted out to look up at you. “Who else can fuck you like this?”

You can tell by his glassy eyes and erratic thrusts that he’s close to his own orgasm. He always wants you to talk him through it, to praise him and to tell him how good he makes you feel. For obvious reason, the whole thing comes terribly natural to you.

“Only you,” you promise tiredly. “’S just you, Stevie—”

“Fuck,” he spits and tilts his head to the back of the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and brings his bottom lip between his teeth, never easing his impossibly swift thrusts.

“Want you to come in me,” you whisper to him. You rest your arms on his shoulders and drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and pulling every time he lets a moan slip. “Want you to come so deep inside me— I’m dripping for days—”

“Shit, baby.”

“And then, when I’m all round and full with your baby— everyone’s gonna know who I belong to, right?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. “Gonna come so— fuck— so nice and deep in this pussy. My pussy.”

“Please,” you beg, like you aren’t half-delirious with your own pleasure. “Come in your pussy, Stevie.”

“Holy shit—” His cock pulses and twitches and then spits inside you. He grabs onto your hips more roughly than he intended and keeps you tightly pressed against him while he comes, giving you several long and warm ropes against your velvet walls. He whimpers when your pussy flutters around him.

You collapse against him when his orgasm comes and goes, rocking against his lap to get him through his high until he stops you with a firm squeeze to your thigh. You both sink further into the couch, swimming in the peaceful void that pleasure always pushes you into.

He rubs his hands beneath the skirt of your dress, petting your warm and sticky skin as the after-sex bliss rest heavily upon the both of you.

“Here,” he breaks the satin silence and taps at your hip. “Get off, baby. Let me get you some water or something—”

He feels you shake your head from where you’ve tucked it in his shoulder again. “Don’t wanna move. Want you to stay inside me.”

“Yeah?”

You’ve never done this before — cockwarming. He’s not sure if you have before, but he definitely hasn’t, and certainly not with you.

Before you, he was the kind of asshole that went to sleep right after sex. The thought of staying inside his partner never crossed his mind. But to his defense, none of his partners thought to do it either. Being King Steve and all meant there wasn’t a lot of cuddling going on after sex. It was usually one-and-done affairs, but he never did this with any of his girlfriends before either.

And now that he’s matured into a somewhat respectable adult, he takes great pride in taking care of you after, in cleaning you up and making sure you’re alright. And when you’re either falling asleep or wanting to shower, there’s no room to be kept inside you. Not until now.

“Wanna fall asleep like this,” you confess. The way you’re halfway slurring and settling more heavily against him tells him you’re not too far off.

“That’s not gonna be comfortable for you, baby,” he scolds softly. Because him — he’s perfect like this. He’s slouched in the plush cushion of the couch and you’re wrapped so tightly around him (in every possible way) you've become his own personal blanket.

But your back is hunched from where your neck is snug and pressed into his shoulder. You’ll likely wake up aching tomorrow, in more ways than one.

“Don’t care,” you mumble and sprinkle kisses to his neck, just because you can. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

“Forever?” he laughs tiredly.

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You shift on his lap to look at him, exhaling a moan through your nose when you feel him twitch inside of you, even though he’s going steadily soft. Your gaze is innocent and yearning and knowing — hungry again. “Think you can take that, Harrington?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he promises with a sincere twinkle in his cinnamon colored eyes. “I can take it.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

3K notes · View notes

yukidragon · 9 months

Text

Sunny Day Jack - Dragon Jack Fantasy AU Headcanons

So, I know that Jack’s fursona is a snake, because he wants warm cuddles his sunshine won’t run away from, which is where we get naga Jack, but what if he was a different sort of mythical creature?

No, not an incubus, but you can check out my incubus headcanons here and here. I’m talking about a different fantastical creature that still has a few scaly features.

It’s the year of the dragon, and that got me thinking about a certain piece of absolutely gorgeous artwork my friend Mars made back in August, which in turn made me think, dragon Jack AU?

Dragon Jack AU.

Oh hell yeah, let’s get fantastical.

Credit for this beautiful artwork and fueling my inspiration goes to the marvelous Mars, who you can find over here on tumblr and on twitter. Please consider popping on by to leave a kind word or two. Trust me, you won’t regret looking at all of her jaw-droppingly stunning art!

Content warnings: There is going to be spice in these headcanons, and it’s going to get a bit kinky at times. I mean, we’re talking about Jack as a dragon getting frisky with his sunshine. Bad Dragon didn’t get its name for nothing after all. Oh and there’s also some dark themes like going insane from isolation, families being awful to one another, exploitation of workers, bullshit politics in a medieval inspired fantasy setting, deadly monsters attacking people, yandere obsession, that sort of thing.

Overall it’s going to be pretty lighthearted, especially in comparison to the super dark and angst-filled hurt/comfort story that I recently posted, so this post shouldn’t get more intense than the game itself.

The Cursed Prince

Let us begin this AU with the tale of Sunny Day Jack, a poor soul who was damned to be left alone and forgotten by all who knew him. In this case, that place he was left to be forgotten was a castle in the middle of a dark and twisted land, bound by a curse that not even the strength of a dragon can break.

Jack wasn’t always this way. Long ago, he was someone grand, a prince by the name of Joseph, though not in line for any sort of throne. He was the spare of the spare, the unwanted and unneeded family member who was a risk to the true heir to the crown. He had to learn how to be strong and cunning to survive the castle politics, while at the same time he was overlooked and ignored by all.

Initially, Joseph tried all he could to earn favor with his family, to be loved by them, but no one cared. Because his family didn’t care about him, and he had no “purpose” in existing except as an obstacle to the heir to the throne, others often ignored him as well to not risk showing favor and appearing to side with him against the current forerunners to the crown. Acting out and creating mischief that the royal family couldn’t ignore was the only way for Joseph to get people to pay attention to him.

Unfortunately, Joseph pushed his luck one too many times. He ignored a family member’s warning that it would be best if he lived as a dead rat, forgotten and unseen. An assassin struck in the guise of a tutor during one of his lessons. He barely escaped, but uncovered a terrible truth. The family he always hoped might someday truly see him and love him had been behind the assassination attempt. How many members of his family were involved in the plot, he never knew for sure, but their indifference and disdain for him left him with no one he could trust.

The unwanted prince was then forced to flee the kingdom, never to return. Joseph lived as a wanderer, hiding his identity. He changed his appearance as much as he could, even stealing a potion from a wizard once. Sadly, the potion he stole could only change his hair from brown to blue, but it was better than nothing, and he quickly grew fond of the look.

Yes, blue hair is something natural in this setting. This is a fantasy world where dragons and magic exist after all. We can have people with anime hair and eye colors. ;3

The unwanted prince learned the ways of the world firsthand and took many names as he drifted along like the wind. No longer a spoiled prince, he learned how to put on a smile, to placate people instead of antagonize them. He was still alone, forced to be a wanderer until he was far, far away from his homeland, but eventually he tried to set up roots. There, he took a humble job as a jester for a noble, hoping that maybe he could find a new life, one where he could be seen and loved.

Fortune smiled on Jack, as more and more people came to watch his shows, and he earned the stage name of Sunny Day Jack. His performances with silly jokes and stories with sound moral lessons delighted the children. Nobility took notice of him, and he started to make real connections and a real life for himself in this distant land. The lord ruling over the country even eventually took notice of him, a rich and powerful ruler that could afford to throw plenty of gold this entertaining jester’s way… provided he was always entertaining.

Sadly, his good fortune was not to last. Jack got too much attention from the nobility, and a traveler familiar with his homeland took notice of how eerily similar the jester looked to the lost prince.

Word eventually got back to those who saw Prince Joseph, however unwanted and overlooked he may have been, as a risk that could not be accepted. His popularity, however frivolous, made certain people of power nervous that perhaps one day he might return and lay claim to the throne of his homeland.

It was during a performance that the world came crashing down around Sunny Day Jack. The lord that favored him and helped him most with his fame and acclaim had betrayed him to his homeland in exchange for more riches. The trap was sprung as Jack stood before a crowd of hundreds, a sudden accusation ringing out that he was a notorious criminal who had done several heinous acts while the knights of the land came at him in force to arrest him. He barely managed to escape, though not unscathed, his new life destroyed and forever sullied to all who knew his name.

This time the pursuers were relentless. Jack wasn’t known here as a prince in this foreign land. There was no one who would show even a token loyalty to his royal blood and aid him. He was now a heinous criminal, wanted dead or alive, with none willing to give him shelter. There was no way for him to use his former name or royal bloodline to gain assistance, as Prince Joseph was long since declared dead.

Jack was a clever man, and a clever man who has nothing left to lose is capable of anything, including mutually assured destruction. His time as a jester wasn’t spent as a simple fool. Though he tried to be sincere when forging his friendships, truly wanting a life of happiness where he could be loved for who he was, he had tasted betrayal once, and it cost him everything but his life. Sadly, he was prepared should this happen again. He learned how to be charming, and he used his appealing and kind nature to learn secrets that might help him one day.

One of these secrets Jack learned was of magic treasure that the lord’s family guarded and exploited for generations. He also learned of a few secret passages in the lord’s castle, which helped him to elude his pursuers. With nearly all the knights put to the task to capture or kill the escaped criminal, this left the castle vault’s security unusually lax. It granted him an opportunity that could save him, or damn them all.

There in the vault was one of a set of golden cuffs, the symbol and pride of the lord’s family, and the very thing that allowed them to take dominion over the land generations ago and rule to this day. These cuffs were said to possess a magic too powerful for any one person to control, so no one dared to wield more than one at a time, but the truth was that if anyone was foolish enough to do so, they would unleash a terrible curse that would doom the land. This was why they were kept separately, for the safety of everyone.

These cuffs have their own history to them, as a fae was tricked into creating them, a bargain for power and a price not yet paid, which was the reason behind their curse. I could ramble on about ideas I have for how they came to be, but their backstory doesn’t really matter to Jack… yet.

Betrayed, branded a criminal, his hopes for a new life dashed to pieces, and everything spiraling out of control, Jack managed to break into the vault and steal the golden cuff hidden there. Before word of the theft could spread, Jack repaid the lord for his betrayal, launching a surprise attack and stealing the other cuff before it could be used by the lord to fight back against him.

With the power of both of the golden cuffs, Jack defeated all the knights that came for him, but the power he used went out of control as the curse took hold. The power was too much for a human’s body to contain, so it changed him into a fierce creature that was made of magic, a dragon.

The land around him changed as well, the natural ley lines of magic in the land exploding out in all directions and birthing all sorts of monsters from cracks in the earth. It was chaos, and those that could fled. It was a terrible night of horrors so great that survivors who witnessed the apocalyptic destruction dared not speak of it. Over time, the plants in this tainted land grew strange from the saturation of magic, and what few animals that braved to remain in this twisted land were changed as well. The land, once prosperous and full of smiles and laughter, became a dark and foreboding place where humans refused to linger long, for fear that they too would be cursed and forever changed.

Years passed, and with the survivors refusing to speak of what happened, all traces of what happened the night the kingdom fell were lost to history. The name of the country was lost as well. The place was only known as the dark woods now, named for its twisted features and the heavy clouds that covered the land and hid it from the sun. Speculation of its creation sprang up over the years, the details growing more fanciful from storyteller to storyteller until it became only myths. The closest to the truth was that the fae had regained the land and turned it wild, which, in a way, they had when a clever but desperate prince turned fool unleashed the fae’s curse that had long been kept at bay.

What happened to that foolish prince? The curse kept him bound to the heart of the land, making it nearly impossible for him to stray far from the castle where he unleashed the curse. The more he struggled to escape, the more ways the curse would manifest to bind him to the land, chains erupting from the ground to hold him, thorns of an unnatural, cold substance blotting out the sky, monsters birthing from the land to hold him back and inflict pain on him until he could no longer fight back.

Jack had become a powerful dragon, but his power came from the very curse that turned the land into his own personal hell. His body was warped, a scaled monster with wings and horns, terrifying to behold. Those who saw him would flee his presence, save for those that tried to slay the beast that legend has it is the heart of the curse.

The dragon of the dark woods, unnamed and feared by all, was known as the master of the dark woods, dangerous and cunning. Adventurers that dare risk going into the cursed land for its materials rich in magic are wary of the great and powerful beast. Its scales gleamed of fire, its eyes spoke of endless hunger, and its power was unmatched. None could hope to slay this beast, and all who tried all failed, for only the curse itself is more powerful than the beast it created.

Despite it all, Jack struggled to hold onto his humanity. He read every book in the castle, every scroll and scrap of paper, desperate to learn the way to undo this curse he unleashed. Naturally, this was difficult for him to do with giant claws, but unfortunately for the former prince, he had nothing but time to learn how to use his altered body.

As the world forgot about the lost prince, the sunny jester, and the awful day an entire kingdom fell along with the names of all three, Jack started to forget his humanity bit by bit. He didn’t learn how to break the curse, but he did learn of other magical artifacts that had been gathered in the castle long ago, including an enchanted belt that would allow him to change his form into whatever he pleased. He used it to become a “human,” but by that point he didn’t quite remember what he used to look like. The passing years eroded his memory of humanity, and he had gotten used to his imposing dragon body. The result was a form that was a mishmash of both, a humanoid man with scales, a tail, wings, claws on his hands and feet, pointed ears and fangs, with horns and blue hair.

Jack might have started to forget things over the years of solitude, but he was at least certain that he had blue hair when he was still human.

Funny enough, no matter how large or small Jack became thanks to the magic of the belt, the golden cuffs remained fastened to his wrists. The curse wouldn’t allow them to be removed, only warp in size and shape to match whatever form his body took. Even if he were to, say, transform into a copy of a different person to fool someone, his golden cuffs would give away the ruse.

When Jack learned how to transform back into a “human,” he went through the motions of being a human in his empty castle filled with riches that were all but useless to him. He wore clothes again, even learned how to alter the fancy clothes left behind to suit his tastes. He learned how to cook the strange plants and animals of this cursed land. He no longer had any need to eat due to the magic of the land sustaining his flesh, but food still tasted good, and there was some satisfaction to be had from creating something. He kept himself sane with what hobbies he could, learning new things, but he could never learn how he could free himself from his lonely hell.

The presence of adventurers into the heart of his land was both a blessing and a curse. It was rare that it happened, and in fact it was several years after the land changed that anyone dared to venture into the dark woods for fear of being cursed for doing so. It was years more before they found its master at the heart of the cursed land.

At first, Jack was elated. He tried his best to be friendly, overly so, desperate for company and help, but this was before he found the belt that made him at least passably human. It had been so long since he had been around another human that he hadn’t tried to speak, and with his draconic muzzle, all that came out were terrible growls and unholy noises. The adventurers that found him only saw a great horned beast with claws and fangs, another monster to slay for materials, riches, and acclaim.

Jack never wanted to kill anyone. He learned to fight when he had to, though he tried to avoid killing if he could. Unfortunately, when he unleashed the curse, people perished in the chaos, much to his dismay. Though he tried to approach these adventurers peacefully, he would not allow them to cause him further suffering. His power was so great that it was difficult to hold back, so the damage he could cause was severe. He would let those who fought him live if he could, allowing them to flee, but none saw this as a mercy. He became a nightmare spoken in hushed whispers, a challenge for adventurers to overcome, rather than a lost soul desperate to be free.

In a twisted way, over time Jack started to look forward to anyone brave enough to venture into the heart of the dark woods, even if the result was always violence. It was always a rare thing due to the intense danger of the dark woods. Certainly, they would always try to kill him, but at least he got to spend time with another human being! Being alone messes with a person’s mind, especially for such a long time. Humans are pack animals not meant for solitude.

Sometimes these adventurers would leave stuff behind, and Jack kept them. Dragons have an instinct to horde, and the castle is already filled with treasure. Plus they were reminders that humans were still out there and that someday, hopefully, he’d join them as one of them once again.

Jack tried his best to learn how to talk with his new body, to sound friendly instead of fierce. Unfortunately, oftentimes he found himself getting the opposite result, the words coming out of his muzzle sounding strange and uncanny, which only added to the nightmarish legend of the master of the dark woods.

Every encounter with Jack was a battle more fierce than the last, and the dragon’s legend only grew. His attempts to follow after the humans who fled from him led to the land itself stopping him, and others would be caught in the crossfire. To Jack, the humans that came to visit him were his only hope, and he would struggle harder against the curse to escape, to be with them. This made the curse fight back even harder in more brutal ways, summoning worse monsters. Soon the heart of the dark woods was known as a hellish place, where the land itself would turn against you if you tried to escape its brutal master that hunted you relentlessly.

Over the years, humans adapted, as they often do. Adventurers learned to stick with the outer fringes of the dark woods to harvest materials. It was the least dangerous, relatively speaking, and what could be gained deeper in was not worth the cost, especially if they strayed to the heart of the land where its terrible master lay in wait for any poor soul to enter.

It’s been a long, long time since Jack has seen another human, and he’s slowly going insane from solitude. He does what he can to distract himself or escape, trying desperately to hold onto his humanity, but it erodes bit by bit with each passing year. Even gaining the ability to transform into a “human” form hasn’t stopped his ever steady decline into madness. He fears that one day he might lose his humanity completely and become the mindless monster that those who fought him believed him to be.

Perhaps all that Jack and the dark woods need to heal is a little bit of sunshine.

Beyond the Dark Woods

Outside the fringes of the cursed land, time marched on. Years went by, rulers came and went, borders changed as land was annexed or reverted to wilderness. A lot can happen over the decades, especially in a fantasy world filled with magic, monsters, and mischievous fae.

How long Jack was trapped alone in the dark woods is a mystery. Maybe it’s 40 years, or perhaps a lot longer than that.

Regardless, the homeland that once had a lost prince named Joseph is still around, a relatively stable country all things considered. In fact, it had grown over the years thanks to annexing land from other countries that had been weakened by the results of the curse. Monsters often wandered out of the dark woods, putting nearby villages in danger and impressing the need for more adventurers to cull the monsters that threatened human life. What was once a kingdom had grown into an empire, growing prosperous with its many strong knights and adventurers, though like any place, it had its own share of problems.

But enough politics, let’s get into the other characters, shall we?

MC is a knight, as demonstrated by the lovely Thea in Mars’ art. Well… they aspire to be a knight anyway. Bullshit politics have kept them as a squire to a knight of higher nobility since they were a teenager. It’s been over 10 years already! How much longer do they have to wait to become a knight? They’re sick of having to polish and shine Barry’s armor, and if they have to scrub his codpiece one more time…

Yup, Barry is a knight in this AU, though only technically. Nobility sometimes get granted a knight title for some reason or another, usually as a token to honor them and/or their families. These nobles usually were just knights in name only, parading around as if they’re this grand figure when other knights did the real battling. They can play the hero without ever actually having to go into battle and send squires to do the menial work for them.

In a sense, Barry is a rich man who bought a title because it was cool, and he makes a big show of it. It’s pretty much a vanity project, and a way to increase his clout to maybe move up in the ranks of nobility. He has MC announce his presence grandly, something just as over the top as the greeting to Yogurtopia. Perhaps something like… “Announcing the great, honorable, and very handsome and still very single and looking for a bride, Sir Barry of [insert surname here].” Or something like that, maybe with his noble title thrown in there for good measure. Maybe he could insist his squire plays a horn first…

Man, even with a proclamation heralding Barry wherever he goes, no one is interested in him. He hasn’t had a date in way too long. Maybe he needs his armor to be polished a little brighter.

While MC isn’t Barry’s only squire, they are the one often left doing the work, as other squires slack off or wind up getting elevated to knight despite being younger than MC is. It’s understandably really, really frustrating for MC. They come from a lesser noble house, just barely above a commoner, so they’re an easy mark for any higher ranked noble to rub the power difference in their face.

Really, it’s all enough to make MC consider quitting to become an adventurer. Sure, adventurers are basically mercenaries for hire at the guild and the jobs can be infrequent, and money can be hard to come by, but… Ah, who are they kidding? The squire job might suck, but at least they get the security of steady pay, regular meals, a place to sleep, mild prestige, and they don’t have to go camping in the woods for days on end hunting some specific monster or harvesting a certain number of rare herbs.

Besides, MC admires the knights (aside from Barry). Their best friend became a knight a few years ago, lucky dog. Still, Shaun didn’t rub it in their face like the pal he is. Shaun looks so regal in his shiny silvery armor, even having it adorned with pretty badass etchings and other decorations. There’s a very feline feeling to it as well, since cat daddy has to be cat knight in this AU. Hey, I don’t make the rules.

…Oh, wait. :3c

Anyway, the other knights can be pretty cool as well. There’s this one knight who has been friendly, though MC doesn’t know his name yet. The guy acts strangely shy when they’re around, which is confusing to them. They’re just a squire after all, not a cool knight in studded leather armor like him.

Poor Nick has a crush on MC in this universe too and is pretty tongue tied around them. MC might still be a squire, but there’s just something about them that lights up a room. Their spirit isn’t crushed despite the fact that they should’ve been a knight years ago. He envies how easily Sir Shaun can chat with them.

Of course, Shaun is in the same boat as Nick, in that he also has a crush on MC and can be pretty clumsy with how he tries to express it. Still, in spite of this, he would have tried to see if they could be something more if not for a certain scandal that happened.

The reason why MC is still a squire, or at least one of the biggest reasons, is because of rumors that they were the secret lover of Prince Ian, the current heir to the throne.

Of course, given that MC is barely above a commoner, the idea of them getting together with the crown prince is scandalous. They got to know each other as children, with MC serving as a page to play with the young prince. When the queen caught wind that the prince saw them as anything more than a playmate in their teen years, their relationship got exceedingly strained.

Ian is in love with MC, and they felt the same, at least at one point. All the time they spent together while growing up led to fondness, then sweet first love. Unfortunately, they knew early on how their different stations meant that the chances of them being together were almost non-existent. This led to a lot of mutual pining, moments where they were tempted to act on their feelings, and some secret encounters between the two.

In spite of the queen’s interference separating them, MC and Ian saw each other in secret as much as they could. They started a forbidden romance together, and the two of them convinced themselves that maybe, somehow, they could defy the odds.

But the weight of the crown hangs heavy on the head. As Ian was swept up in his duties and the time he would be crowned as king drew ever closer, he had less and less time to spend with MC. His mother’s interference certainly didn’t help, especially since she was trying to get him engaged to a high ranked noble woman to ensure that he would be able to sire the next generation of royalty.

While yes this fantasy world is far more open with gender expression and loving others regardless of gender, nobles tend to be uptight when it comes to making sure their bloodline and power continues. Plus Ian’s mom is still abusive and controlling of her son in this universe too, and she uses not only religion to bully Ian but politics and duty as well. As queen, she has a lot more power too, and a lot more flying monkeys to spy on her son and interfere.

In a way, it’s lucky that the queen hasn’t decided that MC is a threat that must be entirely eliminated at all costs. No assassination plots… yet. Mostly it’s interference and petty revenge by forcing MC to remain a squire instead of a knight. She could throw MC out, but then how can she occasionally be petty if MC never comes to the palace? MC might be Barry’s squire, but everyone follows the queen’s orders, and a narcissist needs attention and others to bow down to them.

Unfortunately, the queen’s schemes did succeed. Ian, in a moment of weakness, fell for the seductive charms of one of his potential fiancees. He felt awful for betraying MC, to the point that he had to see them despite the risk of his mother catching them, so that he could confess what he had done and beg for forgiveness.

MC’s heart was broken, but what was worse was that it became a huge scandal. Someone had seen Ian’s confession and begging, and soon word spread like wildfire. Now everyone knew that they had secretly been lovers and that the prince was begging a mere squire for forgiveness. Ian’s reputation took a hit, while MC’s outright tanked due to the scandal, and things became much harder for them, and people have been keeping their distance from the squire that dared think they could become a future king’s consort.

Since then, MC has kept their distance from Ian as much as possible, and Ian, reluctantly, has given them space, knowing that he’s messed everything up for them. But… when he’s king, not even his mother will be able to stop them from being together. When he’s king, he’ll be able to fix everything. He just has to do what he can to make sure that happens. Then he and MC can finally be together in the open, stations be damned! Then he can truly make amends and be forgiven for what he’s done.

Shaun was there to support MC with their broken heart. While his becoming a knight has put a bit of distance between them, as he has more duties to attend to, including being sent away on missions for the country, he makes sure to keep in touch and meet up with them as best he can. Anyone who dares to say a bad word about MC in front of him is getting this cat’s claws.

Nick is no stranger to scandals. He’s basically the most popular knight in the realm, with countless admirers. Perhaps they could offer MC a word or two on how to deal with so much unwanted attention and rumors rumbling in the background.

A Squire’s Quest

Now, how does Jack factor into MC’s life without a compelling VHS tape to tie them together? Well, the instigating factor in this universe is that a thief made off with an important treasure, and Barry the knight was tasked with retrieving it. As Barry’s squire, MC was compelled to come with him to assist, which usually meant doing 99% of the work if there were no other squires with them at the time with Barry taking all the credit. But don’t worry, he only does it because he knows they’ll do a good job at it, and it just shows that they’re one step closer to becoming a true knight!

After traveling quite a ways, tracking down the thief (with MC doing most of the work picking up the trail in the first place), the pair realize that the thief went into the infamous dark woods.

Well, that’s not good. Sure there are areas that have been explored for materials, but still… the cursed land is quite dangerous. Barry decided that the best way to divide the work is for MC to continue to follow the thief’s trail, as they were better at tracking, and he, being much better at supervising and dealing with people, would see if anyone nearby could get information about what the thief might have been after, maybe set up a trap that MC could chase the thief into.

MC had to seriously consider their life choices up until this point, but if they quit now, that meant kissing goodbye to the stability they had going for them. Also, it’d probably bring dishonor to their name, maybe damage their lineage permanently, and so on and so forth.

Well, if they quit to become an adventurer, they’d have to do stupid things like trek through the dark woods anyway. Besides, the thief already stole a national treasure, which meant they weren’t stupid enough to go hunting for the invincible dragon guarding the heart of the forest, right? Sure there’s rumors that maybe the dragon guards the greatest treasure of all, but no way the thief is that dumb. No one’s actually ever seen any real treasure, or have a consensus on what the supposed greatest treasure is actually supposed to be.

After a hard internal debate, MC ultimately decides to brave the dark woods, tracking the thief stealthily. They may only be a squire, but they would probably be the greatest knight in the kingdom if not for politics. Their exact combat style is up to interpretation and personal preference, but they’re no stranger to slaying powerful monsters. They’re also used to Barry giving them unreasonable demands like this one.

And, hey, at least they’re not mortifying themselves by singing Barry’s praises when he enters a room while they’re busy with this stupid quest. That’s got to count for something, right?

Right?

Yeeeahh, okay, MC is obviously just lying to themselves and they know it, but damned if they do, damned if they don’t. They swear to themselves that they’ll only go as far as the hunting expeditions usually travel into the forest. If the thief really is stupid enough to go to the dragon’s lair, MC will just circle back and just tell Barry that the dragon probably just killed the thief, or something. No way they’re going to risk getting eaten by an unstoppable dragon.

These thoughts are a small comfort as MC follows the thief’s trail. Occasionally they have to fight magic-tainted plants or monsters. Their skill shines despite the dark gloom of cursed woods. They even get some nice materials they can sell for some extra cash. Maybe being an adventurer wouldn’t be too bad a gig after all…

Just then the loud noise breaks the eerie calm. Some sort of explosion. Magic? Fireworks? Regardless of what it was, it riled up something. That something is big, nasty, and charging right at them! In fact, it’s a lot of somethings! A pack of creatures got aggravated, and MC is forced to run!

Now, was this a natural occurrence? A bit of misfortune? Did the thief make a false trail to trick MC into going on ahead while they secretly doubled back and used a small explosion to make the monsters go nuts on MC while they used the commotion as a cover to make their escape?

Perhaps. Perhaps. MC certainly isn’t in a situation to figure out which of these possibilities it was at the moment though, as they’re too busy running for their life, inwardly cursing Barry, the queen, the thief, and anyone else that annoyed them lately. If they knew they would die today, they wouldn’t have held back last week when that one jerk stole their cinnamon roll. They would’ve at least had the satisfaction of telling them off for it!

Sarcasm and sass are a good way to cope, but MC knows full well the gravity of their situation. They quickly lose the trail back the way they came, forced to do battle with creatures that are in their path while avoiding being overwhelmed by being so outnumbered. It’s only through a mixture of skill and sheer dumb luck that they manage to survive.

And by dumb luck, I mean that they fell into a catacomb through a ruined ceiling that was keeping it hidden underground.

Well, shit. From bad to worse, right?

Nothing for it, MC is forced to find a way out of the catacombs, then somehow find a way to leave the dark woods without another group of monsters going aggro on them.

Piece of cake. Noooo problem. They just have to avoid the castle at the center of the dark woods that the dragon supposedly uses as its lair, and they’re fine. An old crypt with some undead ready to pop out is better than an unstoppable dragon. Right?

As you may have guessed, MC is, in fact, going in the direction of our lonely dragon prince. Is it just bad luck? Is it some sort of intuition or instinct drawing them to Jack? Are they bound together by fate? Is it some sort of spell Jack has cast that compels humans to seek him out because it’s been forever since a human came by, and he’s desperate for both company and freedom? Maybe some combination of these things or something else entirely. Who’s to say~? It’s up to interpretation/personal headcanon~

In any case, MC is very taken aback when they meet Jack face to face for the first time, as is Jack really. It’s been so long since he’s seen someone. A part of him wonders if MC is actually real. When they get defensive and try to figure out who or what he is, he does his best to placate them, even if they might have their weapon out and ready for battle.

Jack puts his best foot forward, being friendly and welcoming. He invites MC to his home. They look exhausted and like they’ve had a hard time. MC isn’t exactly trusting this at face value, being very guarded about the whole exchange despite how cheerful and friendly this man with wings and horns is being. He’s also getting dangerously close. Should they try to use their weapon to ward him off, like Thea might have done with her sword, Jack is skilled enough in combat by this point to easily redirect her sword with his claws.

Oops, that put Thea off balance. Don’t worry, her new pal Jack is quick to catch her before she takes a tumble.

“Careful, we wouldn’t want you getting hurt, would we?” Jack said, his tone playful.

Despite MC’s skills, they are hopelessly outmatched by Jack. He has far more experience with combat, and he has the insane powers that the curse granted him.

Of course, MC is pretty quick to put together that Jack is the invincible dragon that rules the dark woods, which means that they’re utterly screwed. Strangely enough, Jack isn’t really acting like the monster people whisper about. It’s almost enough to make MC wonder if they aren’t mistaken, but the dragon features and his overwhelming strength kind of gives it away. The fact that Jack brings MC back to his castle pretty much seals the deal.

So MC is stuck as a guest with Jack. The dark woods are too dangerous for humans to wander around alone, especially at the heart of the forest. He’s curious about MC and why they would take such a risk, very concerned by their recklessness. Why were they there?

It’s an awkward situation, but MC has no choice but to play along. How much they resist or comply depends on the MC. I figure Jack indulges even a very resistant MC due to how lonely he’s been. He can easily disarm any attempts to attack him or thwart them from getting away, so they pose no threat. He has all the time in the world to convince MC to lower their guard.

And Jack is just so… so nice. It’s hard not to find him charming. He seems so concerned about MC, and they’ve been having such a hard time with, well… everything. The castle, despite being old, has been maintained decently well. The rooms are decorated so nicely, filled with clothes for them to wear, and the food Jack makes is fantastic. Holy crap, his cooking is out of this world!

Really, the longer MC stays there, the more it seems like there’s nothing Jack can’t do, and their stay is kind of like a vacation in ways. Given how much time he’s had to teach himself new things, it’s no wonder he has become something of a jack-of-all-trades.

I make no apologies for that pun.

Here then comes the classic conundrum when it comes to Jack - does MC fall for his charms, or remain suspicious and hold him at arm’s length? They’ve been feeling pretty lonely and beaten down by life for a while now, and Jack seems almost too good to be true. It’s not like he’s keeping them captive, but they’re in the heart of the dark woods. Outside this castle are some of the worst, most dangerous monsters imaginable. Jack can protect MC if they stay there in the castle with him, but he can’t go very far from the castle, so he can’t help them leave the woods. That is why he’s keeping them from leaving the castle. You know, aside from not wanting to lose the only company he’s had in so many years.

Jack is right about the danger, unfortunately. Whether MC tries to slip away from the castle or just scopes out the surroundings via a window, they find that it’s surrounded by monsters far too dangerous for them to handle alone. There’s no way they could make it, and if they tried, they’d only survive thanks to Jack coming to their rescue.

Of course, Jack acknowledges that MC is powerful. He saw them try to attack him if he did, or he just can tell in simply because they made it all this way on their own. It’s just, well, there’s only so much anyone can do on their own. Sometimes we all need a friend to help us out.

If Jack could leave, then he could help MC leave too, but he’s stuck in the castle. He’s been there for such a long, long time.

Whether his tragic plight is enough to make MC sympathize is, of course, up to the individual. I do know my gal Alice is going to want to help him after hearing him out. Being trapped in this awful place by a curse is a fate she wouldn’t wish on anybody.

Not to mention helping Jack would help MC leave the dark woods. There’s no threat he can’t handle after all. They’d be getting their own personal dragon bodyguard.

Perhaps with a pair of fresh eyes and more knowledge of the state of the world, MC will have better luck figuring out how to free Jack from the curse. Maybe they’ll just play along to not upset their super powerful host so they can escape. It would certainly take time for MC to really trust Jack, even if he seems so friendly and kind… and, they have to admit, this place is lonely and very unsettling for anyone to stay in, even if Jack has tried his best to make it look nice. It’s certainly creepy to be alone here in the heart of the dark woods. The castle is better than the woods full of monsters, but still…

Anyway, the interactions between MC and Jack are up to the individual to decide. Romance the dragon, or flee from the dragon in the end. Being stuck together can bring a sort of fondness, and Jack falls in love. It makes him determined to never lose MC, ever, so he falls down the yandere path, which can lead to some pretty obsessive moments depending on the choices made.

As for the alternate love interests, after Ian receives word that MC disappeared in the dark woods, he sends knights on a quest to find and rescue them, despite the queen’s interference. This of course includes Shaun and Nick, who are the first to volunteer for the rescue mission. Despite the queen’s meddling, not wanting to waste manpower on a thorn in her side, Ian finally takes a stand against his mother for the sake of MC and their love, and the expedition is sent.

Unbeknownst to the knights, Ian sneaks along with them in disguise. He can’t just sit back and wait while MC is in danger. He can’t let them down a second time. He’ll prove to them, and himself, that he’s truly worthy of their love.

From there it’s trials and tribulations of the guys trying to rescue MC from the dragon… provided that MC still wants to be rescued by the time the guys reach the castle.

Really, in order for all of the love interests to spend time with MC and interact, perhaps Jack will be brought back with them somehow, like he found a loophole in the curse or a way to bind him to MC. That way, Jack can leave the forest, so long as it’s with MC, with the added bonus that he can’t stay too far away from his sunshine. It’d create something of a dynamic similar to the game, only in this case everyone can see Jack and learn that he’s an incredibly dangerous dragon that has the power to kill all of them if he so chooses. Not that he would ever! He’s MC’s best friend after all. He just wants to protect his sunshine.

Though chances are MC will want to hide the whole “dragon” thing if they decide to leave with Jack. Maybe coach him on how to better pass for a human. Best not to scare people, am I right?

Or this AU could just stick in the castle where MC chooses to either romance the dragon or flee the dragon. I know which one Alice is going to choose, regardless if they stay in the castle or go back to civilization.

On that note, let’s get to the part that I suspect you’ve all been really waiting for.

(S)laying the Dragon

With Jack being a mythical creature, that offers possibilities for a very kinky fun time. There’s his obvious features like his sharp teeth and claws, but there’s also those long pointy ears that are perfect for nibbling, and maybe offering a bit of emotional expression in the way they tilt. Then, of course, there’s the tail and wings, perfect to wrap around his sunshine. He’s got even more limbs to hold them close!

Now… dragon anatomy is pretty much whatever we want it to be. Bad Dragon has the name for a reason after all. Want dragons to have two dicks similar to snakes? Go for it. He could still have that while he’s in his “human” form too. In fact, with a belt that allows him to change his shape, he could alter himself in very fun ways. A funky fantasy dick with ridges and/or bumps? Perhaps some tentacles anybody?

I mean, Jack has been alone for a long, long time. He’s only had himself to entertain and experiment with. He might have some very kinky tricks that no one has ever tried before.

To be fair, the tail is probably prehensile, so it might be able to be used like a tentacle for sexy times. He might not even need a second dick to plug up all of MC’s holes at once.

Dragons tend to have long tongues, so french kissing Jack is going to be intense, especially if it’s forked too. Then of course there’s oral. Naturally, he’ll be careful with those sharp teeth of his. Well, unless MC is into something a little rougher. Jack doesn’t want to hurt his sunshine (humans are so fragile after all), but if they like a little pain, well, their good old pal Jack will oblige them!

In my personal fantasy headcanons, pointy ears and the base of wings and tails are sensitive erogenous zones. Nibble on Jack’s ears, please! Preen his wings and make him feel loved and cared for. Rub at the base of his tail, and he’ll get hard instantly.

The scales might be harder than armor, but they’re nice and smooth, and have a nice feel. Jack has some control on just how hard or soft his body is at a time due to the belt’s power. Unless otherwise requested, Jack is very gentle with his sunshine, worried about going too rough due to how easy it was for him to hurt others.

Of course… Jack is also so desperately lonely and horny. MC’s presence has been his only bright spot in so long, and he loves them so much. When they love him too… well, it was already so hard for him to hold himself back. It wouldn’t be that difficult to rile him up and make him start to lose control, struggling to hold back his power even as he tosses MC around and takes them.

Naturally, many of my personal sexy headcanons for Jack apply in this AU. This includes a breeding/seeding kink. It’s a bit more pronounced here. If MC has his child then they’ll never ever leave him after all, and they’ll be bound together forever and ever and ever. Even if a child is off the table, the act of breeding/seeding alone is enticing, making them beg him to take them and fill them up with his hot cum is something that he fantasizes about often.

Of course, Jack doesn’t simply want sex with MC, he wants to make love. They make him feel truly loved for the first time in forever. Did he ever feel so loved before? He wants to experience their love in every way he can, fill them up with it until he’s a part of them forever.

Jack won’t ever force his sunshine, no matter how desperate he is for their love or to make love. He’ll go crazy with need, but always hold himself back if they need him to. As long as they love him, he can take care of himself sexually like he always has. He’s just been so empty, alone, and unloved for so long. MC fills them up with love in a way that he can’t live without anymore.

Naturally, when the pair do start making love, Jack can’t get enough, and his stamina is insane. MC is without a doubt going to be the one passing out first after they’ve been fucked senseless with Jack thrusting inside them, babbling how much he loves them and how good they make him feel. The more they go on, the more feral for their love Jack becomes. He’s needed his sunshine so, so badly, and now that he has them and their love, he can’t live without them anymore.

Of course, with a dragon AU and a shapeshifting ability, you can get really creative. For one thing there’s his full dragon form, which would be a giant compared to MC. Size difference anyone? Plus the exact details of how Jack looks in his dragon form could offer interesting possibilities of its own.

Then of course there’s even more furry-related kinks like oviposition or stuff like that. It's not for me personally, but I can imagine Jack would be open to experimentation and indulging in MC’s kinks, even the more outrageous ones. After all, it’s all just more ways to show just how much he loves his sunshine~

You best believe Jack has a predplay kink in this universe. He can smell MC and track them down easily. If that doesn’t work, there’s all sorts of magic he’s learned over the years that can do the trick. Of course he doesn’t want to scare MC, but when it’s good fun, it can lead to a delightfully spicy time~

While I’m on the topic of Jack smelling MC, he is addicted to their scent. The smell of their pheromones easily riles him up, practically sending him into rut like an alpha from Omegaverse!

Naturally, since Jack is a dragon, he has a horde. The castle was loaded with treasure, and it is pretty and shiny. It looks nice all piled together, maybe even neatly decorated. No doubt he’ll want to make love to his sunshine atop a pile of shiny gold coins and jewels, though he’ll make sure that he’s on the bottom so they don’t get jabbed by the hard edges… unless they’d like that, of course.

Of course, the true treasure Jack is hoarding in his lair would be MC. Gold and jewels are nice, but they don’t hold a candle to the love of his sunshine~

Wow. I think this is the longest headcanon post I’ve ever made while sticking with neutral MCs for the most part. I think I’m long overdue to shamelessly self-indulge with my OTP. Let’s see how Alice’s choices will affect this AU and how events unfold, shall we?

Lady Alice of House Rose

Naturally, Alice can’t have the surname of King in a setting like this, so I’m going to use her middle name as the house name.

Fun fact, Rose is the middle name for Barbie and Coraline too!

Yes, that means Barbie’s full name is Barbara Anne Rose King.

Yes. Yes, that pun was indeed intentional.

No, I will not apologize. Her name was picked to be a pun in the first place after all. ;3

Anyway, back to Alice. Being the eldest child, she has the responsibility to elevate the status of her household. Not only are they barely nobility, but their finances aren’t in the best shape. She needs money to help her family, and the honor of being a knight in hopes of gaining a better title.

It’s a shame that the queen doesn’t care for Alice and she’s been stuck as a squire way longer than is reasonable.

Alice knew that it would be impossible for her to marry a prince like Ian, no matter how kind he was, or how close they were. She couldn’t avoid falling for him though. It made her more determined to earn a better title, to make something of herself and earn acclaim. Maybe if she became the greatest knight in the kingdom, maybe she can prove herself worthy of royal consort and be with Ian as his wife one day.

Alice busted her ass trying to be a knight despite all the rough training and being forced to work menial, often degrading tasks as a squire. The weapons she specializes in are the bow and magic, combining the two to devastating effect. She’s also very good at keeping quiet and being stealthy.

In this universe, Alice never had sex with Ian. Although this fantasy setting is more open about sex before marriage, the gap between her and Ian was so wide, she didn’t want to risk doing anything that might ruin their chances of being together. That’s why finding out he cheated broke her heart, regardless of them being physically intimate together. Worse, his outburst when he begged her for forgiveness made it sound like they had been sleeping together to those who overheard, and the rumors were very unkind to the two of them, Alice especially.

Ian cheating proved to Alice that she was only fooling herself that they could be together. Their worlds were too far apart. Ian was to be king someday and she… well, maybe she’ll reach the title of Baroness. Though Ian begged for forgiveness, and Alice gave it to him, she couldn’t go back to the way they were. Advice from Shaun and others helped her see that it was best for everyone involved that she simply remain as the loyal (future) knight and Prince Ian as only her liege.

Let’s skip ahead to the mission to catch the thief in the dark woods. Alice’s best means of combat is the stealth kill. She sneaks quietly, sets up magic traps, fires arrows when the enemy is unaware, and in general takes her time to take her enemy at her own advantage. She actually works pretty well as a solo fighter due to being so stealthy. Though she is good at hand to hand combat if need be, she prefers to strike before her enemy realizes she’s there, and she’s amazing at her skills. Why, if she put her mind to it, she could be a skilled assassin. (Or in another world, a sniper.)

The horde of monsters the thief set off to charge after Alice was almost her undoing. By the time she fell into the catacombs, she passed out from exhaustion, having drained her mana dry. She might have been doomed if a monster came upon her then, but fortunately the master of the dark woods found her in time.

Alice was pretty darn shocked to wake up in a surprisingly fluffy bed, with her armor removed. Not all of it fortunately. She had her modesty protected and her softer clothes still on, but the uncomfortable hard outer plates were removed so that she could sleep peacefully. Jack was apologetic about removing any part of her clothes without asking, even blushing about it, but he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable while she recovered.

Needless to say, Alice is wary of Jack at first, but he did save her life. She does piece together that he’s the dragon pretty quickly and is naturally wary, deciding that the best course of action is to rest up, heal, and carefully get information from the legendary master of the dark woods.

The rumors and legends are so varied, it’s hard to know what exactly is the truth. The dragon of the dark woods doesn’t even have a name, and some of the tales are clearly exaggerations. Since Jack is showing himself to be surprisingly friendly, and he saved Alice from certain death, she decided to trust him… at least enough to remain civil and learn more about him, the castle, and the dark woods.

After asking many questions and getting as much information as Jack can give her (though much of it is confusing due to how rusty he is with socializing), Alice agrees to help him find a way to break his curse. She’s taking a risk, but if she leaves the castle on her own, she’ll die. If she stays, she can keep an eye on Jack to see if he’s really as good and gentle as he presents himself to be. If she has to, she’ll find a way to escape without him if she gets the sense that he’s using her to escape the forest in order to conquer the world or something.

Being very good at sneaking, Alice does slip away to search around the castle for answers on her own as much as possible. However, Jack can’t stand the idea of losing track of her, and all it took was one time of losing track of her for him to leave a magic tracker on her discreetly so he can find her wherever she goes - for her own safety of course! He can’t stand to be far from her. He has to give her time to herself, since if he leaves her with no privacy she won’t trust him, but it’s so hard to stay away. He’s so lonely.

At first Jack’s feelings for Alice are platonic, just a lonely man in desperate need of friendship, but over the time they spend together, getting to know one another, he falls in love and falls hard. Alice, naturally, takes much longer to fall after her relationship with Ian fell apart. At first, Jack is someone she can’t quite trust because he’s a stranger, then she is cautious because he’s a powerful dragon with many unflattering legends about the monster that he is, then it’s concern for the power imbalance between them… but eventually she sees that he’s just a lonely, sweet dork who just wants a friend.

Of course, Alice won’t realize he wants much more than friendship until later. Jack doesn’t want to scare her away after all.

I don’t think Shaun, Nick, and Ian are just going to sit back and wait long to try and find her, but I want to give Alice and Jack plenty of alone time, so I’m going to go with the idea that when humans come deep into the heart of the woods, at first Jack is excited. More friends! Then he becomes fearful when he realizes they’re looking for Alice. They want to take his sunshine away. She’ll leave him, forever!

Well, that won’t do. Jack doesn’t want to hurt them, but he can just make it difficult to find the castle. Maybe use the power of the cursed land to rearrange the forest when the search party isn’t looking, mix them up so that they find themselves suddenly outside the woods. Jack might not be able to leave due to the curse, but he’s not known as master of the dark woods for nothing. He can wield the golden cuffs’ power however he likes, just he can never leave.

Jack just needs to divert them long enough that they give up and leave, or he can find a way to escape with his sunshine’s help. Alice knows many interesting spells, being very creative with magic in ways that he never thought of before, and she knows of things that he doesn’t due to coming from outside the woods. With her help, he is able to figure out a way to free himself from his imprisonment… provided that he remains close to his sunshine. It’s more of a change in the curse than an actual cure for it, but it’s a vast improvement! He can leave the dark woods! Finally! At long last! He can converse with more people! He can make friends! He won’t have to be left alone and forgotten in the dark anymore!

Of course, Alice helps Jack prepare to be around people by helping him refine his “human” form. People aren’t going to understand that the deadly dragon of the dark woods is really just a sweet marshmallow, practically a giant cuddly puppy in human-ish form! When Jack can master looking properly human, they can come up with a cover story that he was a wanderer that found her lost in the woods and helped her until she could get back home. It’s not a lie technically. He used to be a wanderer after all, and everything else is true. He’s been nothing but helpful to his sunshine~

So Alice has to hide the secret of her new dragon friend, who has made it his mission to win her heart. Jack is willing to wait for her to be ready to love him the way that he loves her, even if the wait drives him crazy, but he’s very territorial, not liking the way the other guys look at her. However, Alice does notice his more possessive behaviors even as he tries to remain subtle about them, and she makes sure to keep her new “pet” dragon on a tight leash. Jack is fine with that so long as it means he’ll stay close to his sunshine.

I’m going to say that the change to the curse to bind them together does cause an empathy connection because I really love empath magic. Plus, allowing the pair to feel each other’s emotions and even pleasure and pain is very intimate. When Alice realizes they now can sense each other’s pain as a result of what she did, Jack makes it clear that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe so that she won’t have to experience any pain. He’ll promises to protect her for the rest of his life.

Of course, such a declaration leaves Alice feeling rather flustered. ;3

Overall, it is a bit more of a slow burn than Sunshine in Hell, but eventually the two of them fall in love, much to the dismay of the rest of the male leads.

Naturally love will overcome the curse, because I am an absolute sucker for happy endings. Jack and Alice will find a way to break the curse and remain together so they can live happily ever after. And make love like rabbits hopped up on viagra.

No, I won’t apologize for that pun either.

It won’t come too easily, of course. There’s plenty of people who aren’t going to be keen to immediately trust Jack, and not just the male leads. He came from out of nowhere, with no known background. Alice’s family is certainly going to be concerned by the stranger that waltzed into her life after her heart was already broken by Ian, especially since by the time they meet Jack, she’s already shown signs of crushing on him. The family is going to need to make sure that this new guy is worth potential heartbreak.

Then of course there’s the whole political aspect of things. This country used to be the very kingdom that Joseph was chased out of many, many years ago. The lost prince is a story that could be uncovered to potentially explosive results.

Why, if Jack had the mind to, he could take back the throne and rule the kingdom that once chased him away… with his sunshine ruling by his side after all.

Will that happen with Alice? Maybe. Maybe she’ll actually become a queen after all, or maybe she’ll just live a simple life with Jack who doesn’t let on that he’s powerful enough to level the whole kingdom. After all, all he truly wants is to be loved, and Alice is sure to give Jack all the love he could ever ask for.

Perhaps that love will wind up with a lot of adorable half-dragon babies running around. Though they could be fully human if Jack does become a human after the curse breaks. I kind of like the idea that Jack is freed of the curse, but he is still a powerful dragon and can still use the belt to have fun with his shape. Plus baby dragons are the cutest and the idea of Jack and Alice’s kids being little dragons with tiny wings and cute pointy ears heals my soul.

…Holy crap this ramble went on for 26 pages. That’s over 11,000 words according to google doc! This must be my longest ramble yet, and that’s saying something! Well, I suppose that’s what happens when a dragon lover makes a dragon AU, haha. Fantasy has always been my jam, and I love playing with magical elements.

Anyway, I’m going to take that as a cue to wrap things up here for now. Let me know what you think about this AU and if you want to hear more about anything in particular. Also, let me know if this post inspires you to create anything of your own and please share it with me! I love it that we can inspire one another to create in this fandom, just like Mars’ lovely art inspired me. I hope I’ve given you a few new fun ideas to play with. Thanks for reading this far!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Fantasy AU #Dragon AU

216 notes · View notes

tenjiiku · 9 months

Note

not the kaiser thoughts 🫣

claws / au

tw: dubious content, murder

There is a certain awkwardness to you that Michael Kaiser finds indisputably adorable. A few things, actually. The way your eyes lift up to stare at him, even when the two of you are on the same level. The small tremor of excitement that goes through you when you watch him murmur profanities under his mouth as he leaves the guidance counsellor’s office — reprimanded after making some poor, unassuming kid spill blood across the lot after they made a pass at you. The small hands that run through his hair, the withdrawn eyes that stare down at him as he lays his head in your lap — the almost bashful, diffident, meek smile that paints itself on your equally timorous features as you whisper to him your version of sweet nothings;

“Use your left fist, next time. You’d have drawn more blood that way.”

Michael finds many, many things about you utterly, irrefutably darling.

You are not like the rest. Not like anything he has seen before. A marvel only he knows the truth about. And you are a generous giver. You tempt him just right, proving he is just as much of a deity, to you, as you are, to him.

When you do not show up to school at your designated meeting place (behind the bleachers of the old abandoned field no one in the school utilizes after a viral wireworm infestation), Kaiser skips first class and heads to the isolated trailer park your dilapidated house reside. His poor angel, what a benevolent person handed such dirty cards. It was only right he be your saviour — your salvation.

He manages up the wilting wisteria tree with ease, considering he has done it many a time in the past — and he knocks at your window. Michael knows it was not any good news. Your curtains were drawn — and they were never closed for him.

After a few seconds of no response, he coaxes you softly. How he knows you like it.

“Darling, let me in.”

No response. He lays his lips flat, and knocks on the window pane which threatens to break at the slightest touch. He could, if he wanted to. But he cares too much for you to scare you away at this point.

“Baby. It’s me. Let me in, okay?” He murmurs — coos — gently.

A second passes. Then another. Then, a hand pulls the curtains away. The sight of you takes him aback.

“Michael…” you mumble, brows furrowed from confusion. Michael only can stare. At your bruised eye, at the wound on your forehead, the gash at your cheek. Your skin was clean when he touched you. He has seen your scars on your body, before. He has made sure for so long, now, that no other arises.

He’d slipped up, somehow.

“My baby,” He whispers, a rarity considering his voice is never anything but loud. He has you in his arms now, resting himself on your mattress and you, on his legs. “What’d the bastard do to you? Tell me.”

His tone changing from warm to frigid in less than a second, you laugh. And while under any circumstance he would find it to be cute, he finds it anything but that.

“Michael.. what—,” you still, looking down at your trembling hands, bunched together. You look small, like this. Michael could kill you and no one would know. “I—It’s. It’s whatever. You know how he is when he’s drunk.”

You speak in a low tone. This is the first time he has seen you so, truly timid, he thinks. Michael finds his stomach contract. His arms tighten and he feels a fire burn in his loins.

“Give me the go.” He mumbles against your temple. Sensing you tense, he lets you pull slightly away so you can look up into his eyes.

“Give me it. I’ll bring you his head.”

“Are you fucking insane? Michael—.”

“I don’t know,” he cuts you off, pressing your forehead against your bloody one, eyes unblinking, “You tell me.”

“Seeing you like this might make me do anything,” he whispers against your cracked lips, covered in dry blood. When he hoists his shotgun from his holster around his waist and feels you flinch at the audible sound, he can’t help but smile at the way your eyes flit to the side to get a closer look.

“What the fuck… where did you get that?”

Michael places a hand on your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb. He moves it to your bottom lip, adam’s apple bobbing at the gesture.

“My old man’s parting gift. Ma shot him with it. She kept it under her old dresser, too scared to do much with it.” He tilts your chin down, placing a kiss on the wound on your forehead and tightening his hold around you, “I think it’d be fitting if it killed another piece of shit. It’s been feeling lonely.”

Before you can say anything else, the sound of clamour downstairs renders you quiet. You recoil. And the sight makes Michael a bit annoyed. He does not want to see you that way, unless it is him making you so.

“Baby,” he murmurs, forcing your head to his chest, “close your eyes.”

The footsteps begin to grow closer.

“Michael…”

A pounding starts on the creaky floorboards.

“We’ll go on a small trip after this. Just the two of us, okay?” He mumbles, slotting something into his mouth.

The screech of your name. It makes him furrow his brow and lay his lips flat.

“Michael!” You say, louder now. He whips his head down. You wince. Michael does not know why you are making such a petrified expression, but, he realizes he is not repulsed by it like he is with so many others. He has seen many sides of you. This may begin to be his favourite. “I, I—.”

Forcing your chin up, he presses his lips against yours. You thrash against him for a few seconds, probably out of surprise, but settle into him when his tongue slots itself into your open, begging mouth. It is almost too easy to slide the pill into your throat. You were almost too meek for your own good.

Not saying anything else, Michael sighs as you resign yourself into him — your only place, your only comfort.

He gives a small kiss to your forehead as you slump against his body, eyes dozing off into unconsciousness. He lays your insentient frame on the mattress, leaning over you as the light from the open door behind him blinds you.

“That’s my girl.”

Not even a shot is heard.

#writing #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x fem reader

107 notes · View notes

solar-wing · 6 months

Text

⚣ ATLA/LOK: The Four Nations & Homosexuality ☀️

I'm planning to write for my favorite characters from the Avatar universe again. Any OGs from my first account know I started posting content about ATLA and LOK, specifically Bolin and Mako, WAAAY before I started posting DC and Marvel content among others.

So I wanted to talk about something I found really interesting about homosexuality within the four nations and their attitudes towards it regarding acceptance and whether they embraced or turned away from it. And since we are soon getting a new Earth Avatar series, we might as well start with the Earth Kingdom.

EARTH KINGDOM

First, let's consider the element of the nation itself and what it symbolizes.

Earth is not just the element of strength, but also the element of endurance and rigidity. In simple terms, it's a tough and stubborn element.

Also, Earth is a hybrid element, meaning it can be used in defensive and offensive manners easily.

Concerning its nation, it can be shown how citizens of the Earth Kingdom would more than likely be very conservative and adverse to any change or diverting from societal standards in the norm.

They're stubborn and stuck in their ways, so they may not react the most positively to displays of affection between same-sex couples. But, it can work in both ways.

As mentioned, Earth-benders and citizens, in general, tend to be very stuck in their beliefs, meaning if one were to have a more liberal position on the matter of social and romantic relationships, they would be just as defensive and stubborn in that belief as someone more conservative and traditional.

This goes back to my saying that Earth itself is a hybrid element. A mix of defensive and offensive tactics. Just as much as people way attempt to push their beliefs onto others, they're just as quick to defend their beliefs and ideals.

I'd also argue region/location within the Earth Kingdom is a major factor. If we're talking places like small villages or cities like Omashu in the animated version, you may be met with pushback and intolerance. But, places like Kyoshi Island where its founder was a lesbian so likely had very liberal beliefs concerning such topics. Also Omashu from the live-action since that version portrays Oma & Shu as a lesbian couple, and even Ba Sing Se since big cities are proven to attract a more liberal-leaning population.

But, interestingly enough, in the comics, it's stated that the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, and their default is still heterosexuality. Obviously, this comes from the rigidness and stubbornness of the Earth element itself. So even if Ba Sing Se has a more 'liberal' or rather "diverse" crowd, doesn't mean that crowd is automatically open to homosexuality. Ideally, the only known place in the Earth Kingdom where you could experience the most acceptance and grace from others would be Kyoshi Island

In summary, on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most accepting & embracing of homosexual relationships and 1 being the opposite, I originally was going to give the Earth Kingdom a 5, but remembering how it's stated in the comics that they are the slowest to accept change which checks out, they got bumped down to a 2.

It is a very big nation and thus has the potential to plant different seeds of belief and opinion, however, it's clear in the show how rigid and otherwise, unshakeable denizens of the Earth Kingdom can be. They have their beliefs, and they strongly stick to them.

Even with someone like Avatar Kyoshi who had to go and make a whole separate Island where she and her people could live in peace and prosperity without certain influences affecting them, they still have yet to come around to the idea that other people live with different interests and beliefs, and that there is truly no 'default' for even one person.

Acceptance Rating: 2/10

FIRE NATION

Starting with a focus on the element itself again, fire is the element of power, as described by Iroh. It can burn things in its path, but can also give life. In simple terms, it's an element of strong will and desire to expand and consume, literally and metaphorically.

Fire is also mainly an offensive element, with the capability of modifying certain offensive moves into defensive ones.

Its nation's citizens and benders heavily share these traits with their element. They tend to be willful and proud, and while that doesn't necessarily equal being close-minded, pride can very well lead to stubbornness.

This is evidenced strongly by the political government of the Fire Nation, with its monarchy power having complete and total influence and control over its citizen's lifestyles and choices. If one Fire Lord feels strongly about something and makes it into law, another Fire Lord can come two generations later and reverse and change it.

This is shown in the nation's history, where homosexuality was actually tolerated (I hate using that word) in the Fire Nation for a long time before Fire Daddy, ahem, I mean Fire Lord Sozin's rule. It was during his reign as Fire Lord that Sozin outlawed same-sex relationships and marriages among the Fire Nation and its citizens.

Some speculate it was due to the clear pressure he faced being the sole heir to the throne since his sister was born a non-bender, something that was frowned upon in the royal family. A potential heir to the Fire throne had to be a firebender, with no exceptions. Therefore, Princess Zeisan was allowed more freedom and control in her life than he was, as evidenced by her embracing Air Nomad culture and being confirmed as a lesbian.

It was common knowledge that Sozin and Zeisan had a very antagonistic and tense relationship with each other, despite them being siblings. They were pitted against each other from a young age which caused a rivalry between them. So, it's completely possible to speculate that Sozin implemented the law to spite his sister who fell in love with Sister Rioshon, an Air Nun.

it's also completely possible to theorize that Sozin harbored homosexual tendencies and feelings himself, especially towards his best friend, Roku we all know was the Fire Avatar before Aang. Again, his being a royal prince and next in line for the throne threw a wrench in this since Sozin was expected to marry a woman and produce an heir. So his potential feelings for his best friend could never be explored due to his duties and responsibilities to his nation.

So since Sozin couldn't have what or who he truly wanted, no one could, and thus, same-sex love and marriage were banned. And that didn't change no matter where you went in the nation unlike the Earth Kingdom where you could go from village to village and city to city and the rules would be completely different depending on where you were.

Again, fire is the element of power and will. And if it was the will of the Fire Lord to ban same-sex relationships in the nation entirely, then everyone had to fall in line. Meaning the door was opened for more conservative and traditionalist views to be voiced in opposition to same-sex relationships.

While some may have had differing beliefs and ideals, they more than likely had to keep it to themselves, especially among the nobility. This can lead to harboring feelings of anger and resentment, rather than love and acceptance, causing people to react harshly to any displays of such affection and behavior, just like Sozin.

As I said, fire as an element itself is primarily offensive in nature. Reflecting on its people, and especially its governing body, this is clearly shown by the notion that one person's opinion and belief can be pushed onto everyone around him if he or she so decrees it.

With that, the Fire Nation gets a 3/10 on the scale. Again, in the past, they were at minimum tolerant of it. which is not much if we're being honest. Tolerant actually is kind of insulting. But, after Sozin's rule, that tolerance more than likely dwindled and hasn't improved much following his reign as far as we know.

I'd like to think that Zuko as the Fire Lord, having seen much of the world and all its different dimensions and lifestyles people have lived, he'd at some point in his reign reverse the ruling, but that's a far-fetched hope knowing these writers and creators (no shade...mostly).

Acceptance Rating: 3/10

AIR NOMADS

Air is the element of freedom. It's flexible and lacks restriction, moving in any direction it desires. And because of its lack of constraint, it becomes easily adaptable in any scenario, whether it's evasion, offense, defense, etc.

However, the element of air is primarily and almost purely used as a defensive and evasive practice among its population, due to its nation as a whole choosing to live as pacifists. But, do not be misled. As mentioned, air as an element can be just as powerful offensively as it is defense-wise.

Just as their element, the benders of the Air Temples were very open and flexible people. As monks and nomads, they chose to forego many earthly and physical connections, seeking spiritual enlightenment. Because of this, there were never any non-benders in the Air Nomads.

Any child born from an Airbender was an Airbender themselves. Also, due to their style of life and spirituality, they were very adaptive to any situation they were placed in, making them very open to any and all change around them.

While they lived by the teachings of the monks and masters of the Air Nomads, they lived freely and openly, just like their element. The most restriction they had was as children or masters/monks that lived at the temples, males and females were not allowed to live together in the same space.

I'm not sure if this applies to temples as a whole as I've seen conflicting information. Some say the rule applies to temples as a whole, which would mean the Northern and Southern Temples were only inhabited by male Airbenders, and the respecting Eastern and Western temples were inhabited by female Airbenders.

But, I do remember a specific scene from Avatar, during the 2nd season when Appa was lost, and he had a memory of when he was a baby bison, and he and Aang met for the first time. I remember the monk facilitating this was a female Airbender, so that's why I'm not exactly sure what is concrete.

But, it does make sense as in many of Aang's flashbacks to his time at the Southern Air Temple, we mainly only ever saw male Airbenders. Thus, many have speculated that this specific rule would inadvertently encourage exploration and curiosity for these young Airbenders regarding their sexuality as they matured and eventually left the temples as adults and master Airbenders.

Also, on this, no child from the Air Temples was raised by their parents. They were only raised by the monks, enforcing that common belief and practice they all had. While they of course had their own identities, they were all taught the same thing from an early age, if an Adult Airbender met and had a child with someone from a different nation, that child likely being an Airbender would be sent to the Air temples to be raised by the monks.

All that to say, Airbenders would be the exact opposite of conservative. They technically wouldn't even be liberal since, again, they detach themselves from earthly limitations in favor of a higher spirituality.

So, since they don't subscribe to earthly practices or beliefs, they would be the most accepting nation of homosexuality and same-sex relationships. It's not in their nature or belief to judge others either so they wouldn't show any hostility or intolerance to LGBTQ+ people and relationships.

Just like their element, they practice freedom and adaptability to the world around them. And just as air is primarily used in defensive manners, they still will defend their beliefs and practices, they just avoid direct confrontation, preferring evasive maneuvers.

Just a quick note, the Air Nomads are what I like to think of as the example of how this world should have been. I read another column that detailed how the creators of the show ultimately created institutionalized homophobia because they couldn't imagine a world without it, and that's in large part due to the heavy influence of Western, colonial, Christian, and to be quite frank, European imperialism on the show's writing.

It's a fact that's becoming increasingly more well-known. Before European and Christian colonization/imperialism, many cultures and communities were not just accepting of same-sex relationships and LGBTQ+ identities, they embraced it! While there were definitely pedophilic relationships that were wrong and grotesque no matter what time period it was, same-sex relationships were just as normal as opposite-sex ones. There was no "default."

So in simple terms, the Air Nomads accept and embrace everyone, no matter who they are or how they live. As long as they don’t wrong and harm others, and even then, they see everyone as equal and deserving of respect and love. And that's what our society should be based on. Of course, they were killed off in an entire genocide, which, say what you will and think what you think, but the one culture that accepts and loves everyone as they are being killed off...ironic, don't ya think?

Acceptance Rating: 10/10

WATER TRIBES

Finally, water is the element of change. Like air, it adapts to its circumstances, but more fluidly and gracefully. Yet, unlike air, it relies on the flow of energy, turning its defense into an offense and back. In whatever scenario that sees fit, a Waterbender can change their liquid offense into a solid defense, or turn a solid offense into a gas defense.

This clearly makes the water an element suitable for either an offensive or defensive strategy. Its unique ability to change its form to fit its circumstances gives its user an extreme advantage in combat or any other risky scenario.

Now, even with this in mind, ironically enough, the people of the Water Tribe are not the most in sync with their element as far as when it comes to living standards.

While yes, in combat, they adapt and adjust accordingly to their needs and goals in the fight, in regular practice, they're more conservative and less open to change than you would initially believe.

Also, as confirmed in the LOK comics, while the Water Tribes are not openly homophobic, they are still lacking in accepting and embracing the concept that there is not one rule that applies to all when it comes to who they love. Which, when you think about it, checks out.

The Northern Tribe operated heavily off a patriarchal society as we saw in the first season, and it took Paku nearly getting his ass whooped by a teenage girl who was the grand-daughter of the woman he loved but refused to wed since it was arranged for them to start to change their ways. Even if the Southern Tribe was a bit ahead of their Northern counterpart in this sense, they still suffered from the restricting roles they placed on themselves concerning gender.

Giving props to Fire Nation and Air Nomads, they never had restrictive rules on who could fight in battle, even if the Nomads as mentioned tended to avoid conflict. However, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes both practiced and thus, were limited by their rules that men were only allowed to serve in the army and in the guard.

Of course, we've already discussed the Earth Kingdom is the slowest to accept change, but for the Water Tribes, this is a bit unnatural, and if this is how they act regarding gender, it says a lot about how they would react when it comes to same-sex relationships.

So, it's understandable why Kya advises Korra and Asami to keep their relationship to themselves. But, I personally don't believe they should. Creating change means people are going to be uncomfortable. Oh well, boo-hoo, they'll get over it.

But, this does at least check out with the hybrid offense/defense nature of water bending. People of the Water Tribe will stand their ground and defend what they choose to believe in and love. And while they may not openly go out of their way to push their beliefs onto others like those in the Fire Nation, it doesn't mean they don't still have ways have doing so. Like water, I imagine their approach to such a subject can vary.

With that, Water Tribes get a 2.5/10. They're ahead of the Earth Kingdom in the sense that they've realized excluding women from fighting hurts them more than it helps them. Also, it's highly plausible that if a woman can learn how to fight, a man can learn how to heal, but I digress. However, they're still lower than the Fire Nation since this is less of a government-forced ideology and more of a societal norm they place on themselves.

Acceptance Rating: 2.5/10

I like doing analysis like this. If anyone thinks of other topics to discuss and do a deep dive into, send it in my asks!

102 notes · View notes

babyboiboyega · 1 year

Text

Is This The Love That I Need? (Shuri x Blk!F!Reader)

Shuri x Scientist!Reader

Word Count: 11.8k

Content: fluff, a bit of angst that's made up by some good ole filth so if you aren't 18+, take yo ass ON SOMEWHERE <;3

Summary: the one where your tumultuous relationship with the Queen crosses a line while you’re on an undercover mission.

A/N: heads up: this oneshot goes from past tense narrative to present only because tumblr deleted the parts that I changed to present tense. Tumblr get on my nerves, chile

But I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Babyboiboyega's Marvel Masterlist

You'd had no intentions of rising to become one of the best scientists in Wakanda, but once you had gained the status of lead scientist, you had no intentions of letting it go. Being one of the top scientists came with its perks, such as being one of the first to know of any new projects that could benefit Wakanda and of any that posed a potential threat. Another perk that came with the title was your constant work alongside the only scientist who ranked higher than you…who also happened to be the Queen of Wakanda.

There were many who would call it a perk- having the chance to work alongside a woman who was the greatest scientist Wakanda, and the world, had ever seen. She was a good ruler and an ever-better scientist; one who was known for her compassion towards her people whether they worked in the palace or not, and for her dedication to further improving Wakanda.

However, despite these true claims…there was another side to Shuri Udaku that you only saw, and that was mainly because you gave her a run for her money in the lab. Nothing disrespectful, as she was still your Queen and you still held a great deal of respect for her, as she did for you; but there was something in your DNA and hers that just automatically made you go at each other when the two of you were in close proximity.

Hell, even when the two of you were in the same room.

Whether it was debating over the best way to go about a project, or you asking her why she was constantly looking over your shoulder when you were in charge of one, there never ceased to be an end to your…less than harmonious partnership. It wasn't something that you could exactly hide, either. The rest of the scientists saw, and usually kept their distance when the two of you got started; and those closer to Shuri definitely saw it, usually rolling their eyes knowingly in the same instance. There was absolutely no chance that you two could hide the little competitive natures of yourselves and how they sometimes clashed.

But you could hide the abundance of feelings that had seemed to slowly accumulate the longer you worked with/for her. You hid the little spark in your chest at her relentless teasing as an agitated breath; you hid the brightening of your eyes as she challenged you with a project as a subtle eye roll; you hid the desire to reach out to her and pull her close even for just a second as fists that clenched in irritation.

You had thought that you were doing so well hiding all of those urges, but all it took was one raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk on Okoye's face for you to realize that maybe you weren't hiding them that well. After that, you had made it your mission to shove those feelings aside, as indulging in them would only result in something that hit a little too close to a fantasy that you knew would be false.

You were *just* a scientist. She was the Queen of Wakanda. The only thing connecting you two was your love for science. That and the urge to prove the other wrong whenever you could. That's all it would be between the two of you, and she seemed to never let you forget.

"Wait…is that the equation you're using? Are you still working on your project with the-?

"Underground sensors for unstable vibranium? Yes."

You didn't have to look away from your workstation to know that a raised eyebrow and a scrutinizing gaze would be awaiting you on Shuri's face. It could be heard in her voice as she continued to question you.

"And this is the project where you're using the methods of-"

"Uncertainty quantification, yes, Your Highness, that's exactly what I am working on, why?"

Sure enough, her expression matched the one you had predicted to be on her face as you finally looked up, removing your goggles and placing them on top of your pulled-back locs. Her lips were slightly upturned, a knowing smile that resembled more of a smirk than anything, and her eyes were slightly narrowed as she contemplated your question. They flickered between the projection of your equations and you before finally settling once more on the former.

"Well, don't you think it would be better to use an adjoint equation? You know, build another formula off of-"

"Off of the integrated parts of this original equation, yes, I'm aware. And I was just about to do that." The last few words were spoken through a tight smile as you set your hands on the table, turning your body more to look at her.

She had a knack for bringing out your most competitive side, and you shared that knack. But unlike you, she also had a specialty of seeking you out no matter which part of the lab you were in, so it only made sense for you to always argue with her, right? She had taken a few minutes out of her precious time to find you and grate your nerves in just the slightest; you couldn't let that time spent together go to waste.

"Oh, okay. Because…well, it kind of looked as if you were about to use that equation to solve the UQ."

You took a moment to let out a breath in her direction before turning back to your project, your hands swiping the appropriate variables of said equation until it formed a new, and more correct, one. Once it was formed, you turned back to her, a smile on your face that expressed exactly what you thought of her looking over your shoulder.

Instead of replying, she simply stepped closer to your work area, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she looked over the equation…as if she were critiquing it. She pulled her arms behind her back, walking around it until she could stand right next to you. You had to try your hardest to not draw in a deep breath of the subtle but almost always dizzying smell of her scent as she drew closer; amber and something else that beckoned for you to step closer and take another deep breath.

Even when she was looking over your shoulder and firing off slick comments toward you, your attraction to her didn't wane one bit.

"Your Highness, I think the General wishes to speak to you."

If you had been looking, you would have seen the way she subtly rolled her eyes as the title fell from your mouth to address her. *'Your Highness'.* She expected to be called that by the other scientists, the elders, and anyone else who didn't really know her. And one could argue that you didn't really know her…and Shuri would probably agree…to a certain extent. Despite that, the fact remained that you were no regular scientist *to her*.

She just didn't know exactly how to explain that to you, which is why she always picked you as the scientist who she would constantly tease and rile up. There was a line that she'd never cross, and whenever she saw that she was crossing it and riling you up *too* much, she'd make sure to dial it back.

But until that line appeared, she'd continue to poke every single one of your buttons; and she continued to do so as she urged you to 'look over that equation' before leaving your workstation and walking to Okoye.

The General watched as Shuri approached, her calculating eyes flickering back and forth between you and her. An eyebrow raised once the young queen stopped in front of her, and the sight of it only made Shuri pause in question.

"You needed me?"

"When are you going to say something?"

Shuri's actions paused, her hands gripping the edge of her own workstation at Okoye's words. Her head swiveled, quickly finding you before she let out a breath at seeing you oblivious to the conversation that was veering towards the topic of you. When she turned back to Okoye, her eyes held a warning, albeit, one that wasn't malicious at all.

"Okoye, now is not the time. Maybe we can talk about this when we aren't in my lab? Or at another time…or never."

A dismissive sound left Okoye's mouth, her hand waving slightly. While her eyes continued to glance over at you, her words were directed toward the young woman in front of her.

"Leave it to you, and you'll never say anything. Now I don't want to intervene, but-"

"But nothing, you will do no such thing."

The finger Shuri pointed at Okoye was not intimidating in the slightest, even if it held a good bit of power more than Okoye possessed. The General showed exactly what she thought of it as she rolled her eyes slightly, stepping closer to the workstation that separated them.

"Anyway…I'm here to discuss the mission plans you drafted. Specifically, the part where you planned on doing this *alone*."

Shuri's expression turned more stoic at the change in topic, her head nodding as Okoye spoke. Yet, at hearing the skepticism and disapproval in her voice, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course, I planned on doing this alone. It's an easy mission- easy enough for me to complete myself. Get into the gala, find the room with the correct computer system, get the needed information, and leave."

The first warning Shuri received came in the form of Okoye leaning her spear against her workstation with a dull thud, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her muscled arms crossed in front of her, and then she was taking a step forward.

"You're the sovereign ruler of an entire nation, Shuri; you can't just disappear from the gala without raising suspicions. The mission will be compromised before it even begins."

The second warning Shuri got was the sight of Okoye's head tilting and her lips parting in disbelief. One would think that she'd use all of the knowledge she retained about Okoye from the years of knowing her and put it to good use, but sometimes, the young royal just had to push her luck.

"I'll say I was in the bathroom or something. Shouldn't be too hard."

The statement had been more joking than not, as Shuri knew the excuse wouldn't fly in the slightest, but the small, shit-eating grin on her face quickly disappeared as soon as the words left her mouth.

The darkening of Okoye's disapproval on her face was the third, and last, warning Shuri received before the General launched into one of her lectures about tactics, skills, and working smarter, not harder.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but eavesdrop slightly on the conversation between the two women. Your proximity to them coupled with their hushed voices meant you could only make out a few words, but it was enough for you to realize that they were speaking of the computer system from the states that had managed to sneak past Wakanda's protective technological wall. It had been for just a second before you were able to shut it out, but that second could turn into more if you all failed to understand how they were able to do so in the first place. The last you had heard, they were busy coming up with a mission that would help them obtain the information necessary for the problem.

It'd be a field mission, and the computer system would be in the same building as a gala that would be hosted by the person you all suspected developed the program. It'd be much easier to get the program itself and find out about it than talk to a human who could, and probably would, lie through their teeth.

As far as you knew, your part would come into play after the programming was obtained. You'd take it apart link by link, firewall by firewall until you could find out every single thing about it. You'd be able to do it from the comfort of your workstation in the lab, which was normal. You were a scientist…you didn't do fieldwork.

So when your name is suddenly mentioned alongside the words 'undercover' and 'operation', of course, your head snaps up and in the direction of the two women only to see them already looking at you. Your eyes narrow as they met Shuri's gaze, your lips pursing in suspicion.

"Miss Y/L/N?" Okoye's strong voice carries across the lab, and when accompanied by the wave of her hand, you know what she's asking you to do. You have to press a few buttons in order to safely store away the chemicals you're working with, and you do so with an inaudible sigh before turning and making your way to them.

"Your Highness…General…you called?" There's a certain level of nonchalance in your tone as you address them, but they're used to it. Working alongside Shuri meant sometimes working alongside Okoye, and you had passed 'just a scientist' status in her eyes as well.

"What are you doing this coming Friday?"

You hear her question, but you're a little preoccupied trying to discern Shuri's thoughts just from her facial expression. Her eyebrows pinch together slightly, a prominent frown on her face, yet her eyes refuse to meet yours. It's a stark difference from the teasing look she had worn not even 10 minutes ago when had spoken to you…what could have happened between then and now?

"I don't think I'm doing anything, as of yet. Why?"

"Well, now you are."

Okoye doesn't give you a chance to respond in any way before she's explaining the plans that she's thrown you into. Her voice is the only one you hear the entire time, as Shuri busies herself with fiddling with the various tools on her desk. Your eyes continuously glance at her, trying to gauge any kind of reaction but to no avail. Even when Okoye stops, asking you if you have any questions, she still remains silent. But now, it isn't lost on you why she remained silent.

"So, let me clarify. You want me to attend a gala…in America…with The Queen. And then at this gala, I have to find the computer that broke through our defenses, hack into it while American miscreants are walking around with primitive guns, get the information we are looking for, and then go back to the gala as if nothing has happened?"

You thought it was outlandish coming from Okoye's mouth, but as you relay the plan back to her, you come to the conclusion that it's more than outlandish. It's preposterous; ludicrous; atypical; as a few Americans say, 'backasswards'. Your thoughts are clear on your face as you look quickly between the two of them, looking for any sign that they're both playing some kind of twisted joke.

The apprehensive look in Shuri's eyes coupled with the firm set of Okoye's mouth tells you enough, and it only makes it more real for you. The prospect of what you're doing makes your heart skip a beat in nervousness as you shake your head quickly.

"Wait, I don't have a morsel of experience in the field. I can't do this, I'm just a scientist. I'm supposed to stay here, in this lab."

You try your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice despite having the feeling tighten your chest. While you aren't too keen on the plan and having been introduced to it without prior knowledge, you also aren't too keen on seeming as afraid as you actually feel.

There's a deep-seated knowledge that even if you do let your fear show, you know that neither of the women will make you feel bad about it. They'd both been in their fair share of situations that had resulted in the same heart-pounding, hand-sweat-inducing symptoms you were going through...but they hadn't complained. At least not in front of you...or anyone, for that matter.

"I agree, this mission is too risky for it to be her first. There has to be something else we can do. Okoye...I can do this."

A desperation of her own laces Shuri's words as she attempts to sway Okoye once again, her eyebrows set in a determined frown. You don't know if it's a desperation for her to simply go alone...or a desperation to leave you there in the lab, and contemplating the latter option only opens up the door for more questions pertaining to Shuri's thoughts when it comes to your role in this plan.

"You agree that I'm just a scientist, that I can't do this, or both?"

The words are falling from your lips faster than you can stop them, though as soon as they're out in the open, you find that you don't want to take them back. A sliver of annoyance quickly accompanies the fear you feel, spurred on by Shuri's determination to have you stay there.

You had been included in the plan for a reason, and that was because your skills could be utilized. And while you're still incredibly hesitant to actually agree to it, the thought of Shuri already being under the impression that you wouldn't do it because you couldn't was enough for you to let the question fly.

It clearly catches her by surprise if her raised eyebrows and frozen movements are anything to go by. She looks at you for a second, presumably trying to pinpoint the change in your disposition regarding the plan, before slowly shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Frustration had already been radiating off of her when you had initially joined the conversation, but now, as you seem to challenge her in the slightest in regards to what she truly thought, that frustration seems to grow.

The dynamic, unique to only you two, is being slightly stretched and warped. You were confused as to why.

The easy answer would be something along the lines of this mission being an important one, as it would lead the search to find whoever had dared to try and gain access to Wakanda. It only makes sense that she wants to make sure nothing will go wrong, but does she think that it can go wrong if you were there?

"I may be just a scientist, but I am more than capable of doing what is asked of me. Especially when it comes to Wakanda's security."

Shuri knows that better than anyone; that's something she has no problem admitting to herself. She's seen your skills put to the test multiple times, and each time, you'd come out on top. It doesn't matter if its a genuine problem that needs fixing or if it's just something she had given you to be a pest; this problem is the former.

As soon as it had happened, you had alerted Shuri…after already fixing the problem, of course. It had been one of the few times where her words were only laced with gratitude and not an *almost* endearing amount of sass. Unbeknownst to you, it had been the moment her feelings had solidified for you; seeing you explain something so complex but in a clear and concise way in order to solve the problem quicker had been…well, to put it simply, attractive. She had admired you while you had explained the problem to her, and she had only torn her gaze away when you had questioned if she was alright, much to her embarrassment.

It had been one of the only moments where she had feared that her real feelings had leaked through her words and actions, and it had only led to the fear that it would threaten the peculiar relationship between you two. It wasn't exactly fragile, but she wasn't willing to risk it.

Especially when she had no clue as to whether you viewed her as none other than a royal member who barked orders in the lab or as something else.

"I agree, you are more than capable. It's just-"

"If you agree, then why don't you want me to join you on this mission?"

Shuri's eyes widen slightly in exasperation as you interrupt her. Instead of answering, she merely walks around her station until she's standing in front of you, her eyes meeting yours in an intense look that seems almost as if she's trying to convey something.

"I never said that I *didn't* want you to join me-"

"If that's the case, then you wouldn't mind me coming along." Purely to spite you, you added on silently.

"I didn't say that either-"

A metallic thud echoing through the lab is enough to stop the conversation before it turns into one of your infamous debates that almost everyone has had a front-row seat to. The sound makes the both of you turn to Okoye, your mouth snapping shut in the face of the General's stern look of warning. She points between the two of you as if to admonish two children, which, in her eyes, you two are.

"I will not allow you two to argue the entire time and potentially compromise the mission. Get this...bickering out of your system while you're here, because first thing tomorrow morning, you two will be on your way to the States."

She says the words quickly as if to chastise you, all in an attempt to make you two stop. She's seen exactly how long the two of you can go back and forth, and if she were honest with herself, she'd say that she was growing a little tired of the obvious avoidance and dancing around the two of you were engaging in. But it seems that even the mention of an important mission isn't enough to stop the inevitable debate and bout of bickering, as all it takes is another comment from Shuri for it to start back up again.

The General can only shake her head and turn on her heel, leaving the lab with the sound of you two relentlessly throwing verbal jabs at each other floating after her.

There's more than a good chance that the mission won't cut down the amount of arguing between you, but maybe it'll be good for something else.

*******************************************

The hotel's ballroom is filled with a crowd that shares the same demographic, status, and wealth, amongst other things. However, despite the homogeneity of the ball's crowd, you find that the universe may be on your side as you immediately notice a number of other attendees who have ranging shades of melanin dotting the crowd. It's a relief for two reasons: it fills that part of your chest that's used to hoping for more faces that look like your own whenever you leave Wakanda, and it also means that the majority of eyes in the room won't solely be on you.

That's not to say that there aren't any eyes on you, as you've already met more gazes than you can count that have already been focused on you, skepticizing and for the sole purpose of sizing you up. Though the weight of their gazes is bearable as you make your way through the ballroom, letting your lips curl into a smile that requires minimal effort. There’s not an ounce of sincerity behind the smile, but neither is there sincerity behind the smiles of every person in attendance. This is simply a get-together for those with deep pockets who like to pretend as if they’re satisfied in life; in truth, you can clock the competitive gazes most of them share with each other, always wondering how deep the other’s pockets are and wondering how’d they get that deep. They’re too busy comparing themselves to each other that they barely notice the unfamiliar and lone black woman with the black, floor-length ball gown and elaborately styled locs at the nape of her neck as you make your way to the open bar settled along one of the walls.

Not to mention that the kinds of people who are in attendance are usually the ones who forget the faces of those who they don't deem 'worthy enough' of their time.

But there’s one pair of eyes that you can feel burning into your skin, even as she stands at the other end of the elegant bar, the people around her trying in vain to hear her opinion on whatever tone-deaf topic they’re talking about. You have the urge to turn and look at her, possibly find a way to communicate with her that maybe she should stop looking so damn hard lest the white people around see two black women looking at each other and automatically assume that they’re together…which would make sense because you are together, but it certainly wouldn’t make it easier to be inconspicuous.

But instead of doing so, you simply smile and order the first cocktail you can think of.

“Hi, I’ll have a Rose Sangria, please.” Your words are lost amidst the other patrons giving their orders to the other bartenders, but one seems to hear you, as evident by the way she nods and sends you a stressed, and rather rehearsed, smile. She says nothing about your order, nor the way your American ‘accent’ also seems a little too rehearsed.

You hadn’t been given an entire cover story, mainly because the point was to complete the mission before you would need to explain yourself to someone, but it had been recommended that you take on some kind of alternate identity. You weren’t going to alter your appearance in any way, so the next best thing was adopting an accent for the night. Okoye had critiqued the accent you had chosen- a woman from the southern states who shortened words to fewer syllables and who also held a rather charming drawl- and had told you that while it was always better to be prepared, you may not even have to use it. And while you were perfectly content using it just this once to order a drink, solely to keep up appearances, you admittedly found yourself wanting to look over at Shuri to see her reaction to the unfamiliar accent that left your mouth.

Though it turns out that you wouldn’t have to look at her, as a confused sound echoed through your comms right after you spoke.

“Since when were you a Southern bell?”

“Uh, about a minute ago, it seems,” You mumbled, knowing that she’d be able to hear you regardless. Between one glance around the room and the next, a glass was being pushed toward you on a small napkin. You only had time to send an appreciative smile before the bartender was off to the next drink.

“And since when do we drink on missions?”

The urge to roll your eyes at Shuri’s teasing, yet curious, voice goes through you as you turn on your stool to face the room. With your back leaning against the edge of the bar, you give off the perfect appearance that you’re simply people-watching and not at all like you’re waiting on your cue to slip out of the large room and into a secured one.

“Y’all may not drink on missions, but this is my first one, so I think I have an excuse.”

“...Did you just call us ‘y’all’? Okoye, did you hear her-”

“You two are doing a lot of talking for two people who are in public.”

You make it a point to stop talking immediately, your smile growing as you offer it as a greeting to whoever’s eyes you catch. You also know that Okoye has a point and that no matter how hard you tried to seem subtle, there was always someone watching, and the last thing you needed was to be seen seemingly talking to empty air.

But in the absence of you and Shuri’s talking, you opt to let your eyes slowly roam over to where you had last seen her, which was a mistake. One that you couldn’t take back. One that you didn’t know if you wanted to take back.

Almost as if to make the mission even more difficult, the universe decides to put you and Shuri in the perfect spots on opposite sides of the room that allow you a full and unobscured view of her. The last you had seen of her had been before the gala, where she had worn a white, almost skin-tight crop top, with a black, unbuttoned collared shirt over it, and black joggers.

That outfit contrasted greatly with the suit she wore now in the best way imaginable.

The suit itself was a deep black, the collar a smooth silk material that brought out every tone of melanin that had the pleasure of being on her body. A number of jewels, undoubtedly vibranium, wrapped over and under her shoulders before forming a harness-like piece on her back…which also allowed one’s eyes a glimpse at the smooth, toned skin of her back.

Even from where you sat, you could see the sparkle of each jewel she wore- including the ones she wore as earrings. Despite the sparkles that screamed luxury and that caught the attention of nearby attendees, you were focused on her. It was hard not to; especially when she looked as good as she did.

The gloss layered on her lips reflected the slightly dimmed lights of the ballroom, and each time she nodded or moved even slightly, that same light reflected off of her smooth skin, acting as an immediate beacon for your eyes.

How in Bast’s name were you expected to go about this mission regularly when you now couldn’t tear your eyes away from her? How would you be able to convince yourself that these feelings of yours were nothing but a phase that you *needed* to get out of?

“-/N? Y/N, are you in position?”

Okoye’s voice and her words quickly broke you out of your…reverie? Daydream? Fantasy? Whatever it was, and only thrust you into another reverie. One that involved your own worries about being able to complete your part of the mission.

“I am.”

“Good, because you’ve got about a minute and 30 seconds to get to the target area. The camera feed is replaced.”

It's almost as if she literally lit a fire under your ass with the way you downed the small glass of liquor, trying your hardest to not make a face at the burn of it, before standing from your stool. Your eyes glanced once more in Shuri’s direction, only to realize with a small jolt that she was already looking at you with an undecipherable expression.

Her eyes were unabashed as they regarded you across the room, and if you were close enough, you would’ve seen the reassurance in them. It was no secret that you were more than a little nervous about this…but there was no time to dwell on those nerves. Not anymore.

“Alright. Heading up now.”

With every step you took toward the hallway, you sent a quick prayer to Bast, praying that you wouldn’t be stopped. You had seen multiple attendees pass through the doors leading to the hallways, and it was just your luck that there was also a stairwell that lead right to the floor you needed to go to. And it was an even bigger stroke of luck that the hallway was empty for the time being, allowing you to slip into the stairwell and ascend the stairs to the right floor.

You didn’t realize that you were holding your breath until you finally let go of it with a heavy sigh once the door shut behind you. The room was just the way you all expected it to be; filled with a variety of technology that looked too expensive and too advanced to be legal in the hands of its owner. The reason behind your presence just further proved that it was in the wrong hands, as a piece of technology in this room had been behind the momentary breach.

“I’ve reached the target area. Scanning for the breach’s origin.” The scan consisted of a quick tap to one of your kimoyo beads and watching as it sent out a beam of light that roamed over the entire room. Once the origin was located, the beam stopped, pointing you right in the direction and allowing you to start the next part of the mission. “I’ll alert you when I’ve downloaded the program…hello?”

The confusion in your voice quickly gave way to caution as you waited, and failed, to hear a response from either Shuri or Okoye. Their silence didn’t stop your fingers from flying over the keys of the nearest computer, effortlessly breaking through each security wall that needed to be broken and patching each one that would keep your presence a secret. While the thought of you suddenly being alone without a clue as to what Shuri or Okoye were doing made you nervous, that didn’t take away from the fact that you had a job to do. It certainly made it easier to focus on the task at hand as you rifled through the various programs on the computer, each one more advanced and more invasive than the last. Wakanda hadn’t been the only nation the program had breached, but it had certainly been the hardest.

Your eyes expertly scanned over every bit of information you could retain as your kimoyo bracelet downloaded the needed information, and it all made your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and concern. Whoever, or whatever, had created this program had done so with the sole intention of using it as a weapon, and you were willing to bet that their efforts to breach Wakanda’s security stemmed from a desire to get their hands on technology that would help.

“Can anybody hear me?” You spoke softly, quickly collecting your kimoyo beads once more before locking the computer and turning toward the door. Your steps were quick but nearly quiet as you approached the door, your mind now turning to the task of joining the gala once more undetected.

“If you can hear me, I’m on my way back to the gala. Those aren’t just regular programs, they’re some of the most secured ones I’ve seen for an American-”

Your words break off with a hitch as your steps quickly halt, and it's all because of the sudden appearance of a shadow that looms under the door to the room that you’re in. You hadn’t heard any footsteps and the appearance of it has you looking around in a panic, your eyes widening as if that could make a hiding space more apparent. Upon not seeing a space that could serve as one, you reach for the door handle with the intention of locking it…though the knob is turning and the door is opening before you can even grab it, and all you can think is ’I just completely ruined my first ever mission’.

“Oh, thank Bast you’re still here-”

“Shuri?!”

Both of your voices are whispered yells as you come face to face with the monarch, her expression undoubtedly mirroring yours in its exasperation and shock…and relief.

“I was just coming down- why haven’t you been responding?”

Shuri glances back out of the door she just closed before her eyes are landing on you. There’s a certain look of confusion and frustration in her eyes, and you’re honestly too wired to contemplate whether its because of you or not.

“Okoye did a scan of the building and it showed a series of advanced EMP’s on each floor. The kimoyo beads made it past the EMPs, but we think a virus or program originating from this room scrambles any airwave that isn’t configured to the program’s specific signature. As soon as you came in here, your comms went dead. We thought your cover was blown.”

So that explains the wide-eyed, almost worried look in her eyes as she gazes at you. Even in the face of something as concerning as a series of technological programs that could be used as weapons, you still find your heart increasing and your chest tightening at the thought of Shuri being worried.

Bast…you really need to get your priorities and emotions in check.

Your mouth opens, ready to relay to Shuri what you’ve found, only to watch as she tenses. Her shoulders raise slightly as she turns towards the door, her eyebrows raising as she seems to be listening to something you can’t quite hear yet.

“Shuri…what is it?”

She responds by grabbing your wrist, her fingers lowering to deftly wrap around your hand as she pulls you towards the door. It doesn’t take long for you to hear the same thing she hears: two sets of footsteps walking towards the door you two are behind, the wide beams of the guards’ flashlights shining underneath the door.

“Ah, sihogo,” Shuri hisses, her hand tightening slightly around yours as the footsteps grow closer. Her head turns back to the room, presumably looking for the same thing you had been looking for at her arrival: a hiding spot of some kind, or maybe an alternate route. Its apparent the second she realizes that there’s neither a hiding spot or an alternate route, as she lets out a deep sigh before clicking the lock of the door.

“Listen to me,” she starts, her hand tugging you to stand in front of her. Her eyes are slightly wide with the intention of using them to emphasize her next words; but unbeknownst to her, you have no problem concentrating on the words that leave her mouth.

“When they unlock the door, I’ll distract them long enough for you to get past them. Don’t let them see your face or even touch you- just go back to the gala, and I’ll be right behind you-”

“Shuri, we can’t fight our way out of this- that’ll draw more attention than anything!”

“There is no we- you’re going back to the gala- I’ll make sure you get by them.”

The sound of the door handle rattling followed by the confused voices of the guards adds onto the air of chaos surrounding you two. The sound makes your eyes widen while also making an almost absurd idea pop into your mind. Though as Shuri moves to push you behind her, you find the idea a little hard to verbalize.

“Let’s think about this- there has to be a better way than fighting guards in a sparkly suit, Shuri-”

“There’s nowhere to go!” She whispers back quickly, her hand raising and reaching for the necklace that encircles her neck; the same one that holds the nanotech technology of her suit. “We’re cornered in a restricted area. This is the only entrance and exit point-no windows. What do you want me to do, Y/N?”

“Kiss me.”

Her look of confusion is immediate as her head whips to look at you, her body following as she turns completely. Her proximity allows you to see the way her eyes quickly flicker to your lips before meeting yours once again, widening slightly more as she comprehends your request.

“You want me…to kiss you?”

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable-”

The sound of the door being unlocked goes through the room right as her lips part to offer another ruse, or maybe ask another question. You wouldn’t blame her; the ‘distraction’ seems like you’re trying to cop a feel on her under stressful circumstances, and the realization that it could be interpreted as that has you quickly shaking your head, your lips parting to take it back immediately.

The last thing you’re expecting her to do is to pull you abruptly into her chest with the hand already wrapped around yours. You certainly didn’t expect her hand to tilt your chin up while her other hand let go of yours to wound around your waist, pulling your waist flush against hers.

You sure as hell didn’t expect your next breath to be interrupted by the feeling of her lips moving against yours.

There are a number of sounds distantly registering in your brain: the door opening, the guards’ surprised exclamations, their stuttering as they grow uncomfortable with the embrace they’ve just walked in on; but none of them matter because Shuri is kissing you. Shuri is kissing you.

Shuri is kissing you, and you’re kissing her back with everything you’ve got, sacrificing each breath in exchange for another second of feeling her lips against yours.

Her hand is sliding along the length of your jaw until her long, slender fingers can wrap around the back of your neck. Her thumb stays right on the edge of your jaw, and she uses it to tilt your head further back. It only prompts your lips to part, almost on instinct, and there’s a small part of your foggy brain that’s urging you to stop before it can go any further. To spare yourself the trouble of accepting the fact that a kiss that could potentially go so far ends up being just that: a kiss done in the heat of both of you’s adrenaline and desperation for some form of diversion.

“Uh, e-excuse me. Hey!”

You pull back with a gasp, your eyes wide as you meet Shuri’s, who are just as wide as yours. Her lips have the slightest shine to them, a mixture of both of your lip balms covering them, and you can only watch breathlessly as she licks her lips with a hitched breath.

“Did you hear me? I’m gonna have to ask you two to go back downstairs-”

“We heard you,” Shuri’s voice is too steady to match the undecipherable expression on her face or the slight shakiness in her hands as she takes yours in hers. You’re being tugged towards the door before you can gain your bearings, and only Shuri’s tight grip around your hand keeps you from stumbling slightly.

“We’re leaving.”

Her steps lead the both of you to the elevator at the end of the hall, in the opposite direction of the stairwell you’d used to get there. The sound of the guards’ confused voices float down the hallway as they close and lock the door behind you two, their gazes staying on you until the elevator opens and you two step in.

Your gaze stays on the elevator doors as they close, your breath still heavier than usual. The sensation of Shuri’s lips on yours linger even when you two aren’t embracing anymore, making your lips tingle. Its borderline disorienting, as it makes your mind replay every moment leading up to and during the kiss in great detail. It nearly causes you to miss the sound of your comm’s device coming back on, Okoye’s voice sounding in you and Shuri’s ears.

”Hello? If one of you don’t respond in the next 5 seconds-”

“We’re okay, Okoye.” Shuri is quick to respond to the General, her voice still low and steady, though if the way she clears her throat means anything, you’re willing to bet that she’s just as shaken at the moment that just passed. Albeit, for different reasons; reasons that you feel like you have to apologize for.

“We’re in the elevator now. We’re on our way back to the rooms.”

The thought of finally being able to leave the gala and this role of yours behind makes a small, relieved breath leave you. But your heart only speeds up as Okoye confirms that she’ll be there as soon as you two alert her that you’re ready to leave; it gives you time to go to your own hotel room, of course, booked under a different name, and think even more about what happened. You can’t say for sure whether it's a good thing or bad thing to do, but you know it’ll happen regardless.

All of your thoughts quickly halt as you feel Shuri’s eyes land on you, and in the small space of the elevator, her heavy gaze feels as if it allows her entire presence to wrap around you.

“We’re going to have to talk about it at some point.”

Her words are patient, though there’s something in her voice that not only makes you freeze but also alludes to the fact that there are more words coming; words that you know for a fact you aren’t ready to hear.

“...You’re right. I want to apologize,” You begin, turning to face her, after schooling your features into one of impassiveness. Nonchalance. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position, Your Highness. But to be fair, I didn’t exactly want to end the night with running in heels while you knocked out two security guards-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Y/N.”

She turned slightly in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze unwavering as she did so. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and it only took a quick glance at them to see that they were clenched slightly, the veins in her arms and hands becoming slightly more prominent. Those hands that had just been pulling you closer, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss-

Your breath shakes slightly as you draw it in, and your eyes flicker away from hers. They’re too intense in the moment; you know that they can see each unspoken word and every hidden emotion you’ve tried stuffing down during the mission. You know that they’re analyzing every breath you take and every time you shift, putting all of her findings together to come to the conclusion that the kiss now took over every thought you had.

Your words are a sorry attempt at convincing yourself and Shuri as you reply, the edges of your voice shaking slightly.

"The kiss was just a diversion, I don't know what else to tell you, Your Highness-"

A flurry of movement happens in your peripheral, and as much as you want to turn to look at her, her heated gaze on the side of your face stops you. It takes everything in you to not turn and let go of the words that seem to be trapped in your throat. Instead, you focus on the climbing numbers of the elevator, willing the elevator to stop on the floor that holds both of your rooms. Willing for the doors to open so you can o to your room and maybe drown your troubles and spiraling thoughts in the cheap mini bottles that had been provided.

"You know very well that it wasn't just a distraction, and for Bast's sake, stop calling me that- I hate when you call me that-"

"What, you hate when I call you by your title? That's what you are, Shuri, you're the Queen!" Your heart beats so quickly that you can physically feel it threatening to break your rib cage. It makes your breathing slightly heavier.

"You're my Queen and I'm nothing but a scientist that you like to annoy for some Bast-forsaken reason! That's all I am- that's all we are!"

You planned for your words to be fueled by the irritation brought on by the night's events, but instead, they're only by raw emotion. The relief at finally knowing how her lips would feel on yours bleeds into your words, as well as the desperation of wanting to feel them again; the desperation for her to tell you that you’re wrong and that that isn’t all that you are.

You find your voice cracking in the slightest, and it only prompts a soft curse to fall from your mouth as you turn further away from her. The muscles of your jaw tense as you clench your teeth as if that will hold back the words that remain just at the tip of your tongue.

The silence following your words is deafening, interrupted only by the soft, incessant beeping of the elevator climbing the floors. You have to strain your ears to pick up on the sound of Shuri's breathing over your own, though you don't know why you listen for it. The one thing you need right now is space from the Queen- enough so that you can wrangle your thoughts that you had mistakenly allowed to cross the line drawn between the two of you.

But space isn't what you want, and that realization alone makes you clench your fists hard enough to leave indentations in your palms. It's all in an effort to push back the desire crawling up the length of your arms and the rest of your body, urging you to pull yourself closer to her and continue where you two had left off in that damned room.

But in order to do that, you'd have to know how Shuri felt…and she was still silent, her gaze concentrated on the profile of your being.

The subtle lurch of the elevator accompanied by its ding is your saving grace, and as soon as the doors open, you're hurriedly stepping out and in the direction of your room. Your steps are quick and nearly silent on the carpeted floors, effortlessly leaving Shuri behind to look after you with furrowed eyebrows and a downturned mouth.

"Is it? Is that all you think we are?"

You just barely have your room key out when Shuri's voice floats down the hallway to you, her voice both questioning and frustrated. It grows closer, louder, as she follows you.

"Because I don't. And I know you don't."

With a shaky hand and frustrated breath, you finally swipe it across the door's sensor before pushing it open quickly and s stepping past the threshold. The door doesn't have a chance to shut before Shuri is slinking in behind you, letting the door shut harshly behind her as you throw your bag down onto the couch. There's a line of heat on your back as you do so, courtesy of Shuri's close proximity and the effect only she has on you, and it only makes your actions choppy.

"I know you, Y/N- as much as you may think that I don't." The tense air follows the two of you further into your hotel room, moving and increasing with each breath and each word you two exchange.

It's a tension that had been building ever since you two laid eyes on each other at the beginning of the night, your gazes drawn to the other like a moth drawn to a flame in a darkened room. It's a tension that continues to grow as she continues speaking, stepping so close to you that you can feel her chest brush your back with every breath.

"Like right now. I know what you feel…because I feel the same."

Even with half your mind telling you to step away, to make space for yourself for your own sake, you find that you're unable to move; especially so when she raises her hands. The one that lands gently on your waist is used to keep you in place while the other raises and settles lightly over your heart from behind; it only makes the organ work double time, something Shuri is more than likely aware of.

"I can hear and feel how fast your heart is beating right now. The beating of my own matches yours, and it's all because of you."

Your hands clench into tight fists in an effort to keep them to yourself, disregarding the feeling of unabashed longing that travels through your body.

The way she speaks and touches you is a far cry from how the two of you interacted only earlier that morning. Then, in the comfort of the Royal Talon fighter, your regular teasing and banter filled the cabin with Okoye occasionally telling you two to take a break from said banter.

Now, the dynamic that usually existed between you two was gone. It had been smashed to pieces as soon as you two had embraced in that room and placed your lips against hers, and attempting to pick up the pieces would leave your fingers a bloody mess.

Though as she continues speaking, you find yourself wondering if picking up the pieces was something that you really wanted to do.

"I can feel each breath you take. I know how they quicken whenever I touch you… because your touch does the same to me." Her words are emphasized by her placing her flat palm against the middle of your chest, which proves her exact point as it rises and falls quickly with each, shuddering breath you take.

It feels like a beam of heat traveling through your body, all originating from where her palm presses against your skin. Her breath ghosts over the exposed skin of your shoulders as she continues, leaving a trail of goosebumps that only her touch can soothe.

"And I know…that that kiss wasn't 'just a kiss'. What I don't know is why you won't admit it to yourself or me."

The frustration in her voice quickly fades until it sounds like acute desperation mixed in with apparent longing. Her hands are gentle where they still rest against your body, and even more gentle as she uses them to turn you around to face her.

You're afraid that if you move too much, you'll wake up from whatever dream you've found yourself in, so you turn stiffly and hesitantly. Eyes raising to meet hers, you brace yourself to wake up to the sight of your room back home in Wakanda; but as they meet hers and you see the vulnerability and genuineness that seem so natural in her eyes, your heart skips.

And then when her hands raise to gently cup your face, her thumbs rubbing soothingly and almost reassuringly into the skin of your cheeks, your heart nearly stops. It's enough to make a quick breath leave your mouth, your eyes closing and your head leaning further into her palms.

"You are more to me than a mere scientist."

She tilts your head back, prompting your eyes to open and meet hers once again.

"Yes, I am a monarch. And you are a scientist…one of the best ones I've ever had the pleasure of working with. But that isn't all.

"These labels only dictate how others see us; they don't dictate how we see each other, and I want nothing more than to tell you, show you, how I see you, and how much you mean to me."

The edges of your lips are traced by her thumb as she speaks, sending a very apparent shudder down your spine; one steeped in pleasure and longing that was becoming harder to tamper down.

But then she steps more into your space, every aspect of her being invading your senses. Your breaths mingle in the small amount of space between your faces, echoing each other in terms of heaviness and pace as her hand splays against the small of your back, almost dangerously close to the zipper that holds your dress together. She lowers her head, her lips brushing just slightly over yours with a question; one that sends a shiver so intense down your spine that it pushes you closer to the Queen.

"Let me show you, sithandwa sam."

The roughness of her voice contrasts greatly with how slow and careful her hands are as they explore as much of your body as they can with you still fully clothed. They ghost over the curve of your ass, pulling you closer until your waist is flush against hers. Her eyes are half-lidded as she waits for your answer, though they’re patient. And understanding. The look in them acknowledges that this mission started off as just that, but had now quickly delved into something else.

You’re just barely able to nod when she’s leaning forward once more, her hands slow but firm where they grip you, and her lips soft but unyielding as she places them against yours. The small groan of anticipation and desire that leaves your mouth is quickly and effortlessly swallowed by Shuri’s mouth on yours.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become an echo of the one you two shared under the guise of it being a diversion, except this one is so much more. This one is brought on by nothing but desire and longing that’s been pushed down too much by the both of you.

***

Her hands that land on the curve of your ass trail lower until both of them have a full grip, and she doesn’t hesitate in squeezing and kneading the skin that she appreciates. She takes your gasp and uses it to let her tongue explore your mouth as she walks you backwards, her hands firm while they make sure you don’t trip over anything. Your body already trembles with the anticipation of seeing how far this goes; how far Shuri is willing to go to show her sentiments physically.

Your hands raise, twisting into the fabric of her suit’s coat, using it to pull her impossibly closer. Every sense of yours feels as if its dialled to 11: you can feel every caress and squeeze of her fingers on your skin; you can hear every gasp she takes in order to continue kissing you longer; the smell of her fragrance surrounds you until you’re almost dizzy with the arousal it evokes from you; and the taste of the drinks you both had mingle to make the kiss even more intoxicating.

Her movements are quick with lust but not rushed; she makes sure to take her time unzipping your dress until the fabric is loosely sliding down your frame, leaving you in your black bra and underwear set, though it leaves little to Shuri’s imagination due to the practically see through lace. She certainly isn’t complaining as she disconnects her lips from yours, her eyes roaming hungrily over your body and the skin that's exposed. They linger on each curve, each mark, each dimple- every aspect that has a role in making you, and with every pass of her eyes, her hands follow.

If your breath shuddered before, it all but stops as her hands ghost over the shape of your breasts, her thumbs seeming to pay special attention to your nipples that push against the fabric. Each pass of her fingers over them makes a jolt of what feels like electricity streak through your body, and you don’t realize that you’re pushing yourself more into her hands until her head is dipping.

A throaty hum leaves her mouth as she presses hot, open mouthed kisses against the swell of your breasts peeking over your bra. Her hands cup both of them, almost pushing them together as she continues her ministrations on your skin. Your eyes flutter slightly, though they’re quickly drawn to the mirror across the room and how it gives you a perfect view of what she’s doing.

The sight of you standing before Shuri in nothing but a pair of underwear and a bra while she still wears her entire suit makes another wave of arousal wash over you, and it makes itself known with the warmth and slickness between your legs. Your soft breath of anticipation is only joined by Shuri’s deep inhale that only turns into a groan of her own. Your eyes remain on the mirror even as she pulls back just enough to step around you, her chest pressing to your back. Her eyes meet yours in the mirror before dipping down to take in your body once more, and its nearly impossible to keep your thighs from clenching together, the slightest bit of your stimulation making your breath hitch. But it isn’t enough. It won’t be enough until you’re shaking under Shuri’s touch; until you forget which way is up or down.

She steps forward, using her body to guide you towards the bed behind you, and as you fall onto the mattress, she doesn’t waste a second in climbing over you. Her lips are hungry as they kiss, lick, nip every inch of skin she can reach. Her path takes her down the valley between your breasts, her lips pressing against one nipplie while her hand gently kneads the other.

Her hands are gentle as she uses them to push your thighs apart, prompting a heavy breath to leave you. You can feel your own arousal dampening your underwear…and the feeling of Shuri’s tongue pressing flat against your clit through them makes them even damper.

Your hands immediately twist into the covers beneath you, your hips involuntarily bucking off of the bed. The quick breathing leaving your lips grows closer to pants of desperation as you watch her press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, her eyes closing as if she’s drawing her own pleasure from the taste of you, which she is. As much is evident in the way her eyes open, even darker than ever, and hold yours while her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear. The pace with which she pulls them down makes shiver after shiver wrack down your spine.

“Shuri, please…”

There’s no hiding the pleading in your voice as your voice breaks the heavy silence, and there’s no stopping the way it quickly morphs into a small whine as you see her eyes focus on your pussy before flickering to yours and back.

“Give me a second…” Her voice is a mumble, though you can still hear the slight shakiness of it. Her eyes, half lidded with pleasure, remain on your pussy, as if she has no problem kneeling between your legs for the rest of the night and just taking in the sight of you.

“Do you know…how hard it was, watching you from across the room? Knowing that I couldn’t take you somewhere just big enough for me to have you the way I’ve been longing to? Hm?”

There’s nothing in the world- in the universe that can prepare you for the feeling of Shuri’s tongue licking a stripe through your folds, and the sound that it brings from your mouth is loud and sinful.

She doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath after that. Her fingers tighten where they’re gripping your thighs, and with a small growl in the base of her throat, she’s lifting your knees towards your ears. A gasp leaves your mouth at the action, your eyes fluttering shut as her breath puffs lightly against the slickness gathering between your legs.

“Bast, I’ve never wanted to a rip a dress so badly.”

One of her hands leaves your thigh only to replace it with yours, her fingers guiding yours to hold your thigh in the same place while hers lowers. The sensation of her fingers dipping beneath your folds, gathering every bit of your essence before spreading them. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth doesn’t stop your wanton months from spilling out, just as taking a deep breath does nothing to prepare you as you see Shuri’s head descends more.

The only warning you receive is the soft hum that leaves her mouth, and then her lips are closing over your pussy. Her tongue is dipping, caressing, and licking relentlessly, each lap bringing you to another height of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before…and that you know you’ll never experience from anyone ever again.

Your hips buck as she presses deeper, her eyes closing as she gladly looses a few seconds of breath in turn for a few more seconds of her senses being filled with you. Your taste, the feeling of your hips moving in the perfect way that allows your pussy to ride the expanse of her tongue that she gladly offers.

Time continues to distort the longer she’s buried between your legs. It speeds up and slows down as she uses her tongue and her fingers to the best of her ability to bring you to another level of pleasure, one that has your entire body trembling. It certainly helps that she continues her actions in complete silence, allowing you to hear every hum, grunt, and moan of hers as she eagerly laps up everything you have to offer. It allows you to hear every sinful sound resulting from her tongue or her fingers dipping into you before pulling out.

Two of her slender fingers press past your folds, her wrist rolling and changing the angle of them until her thumb could swipe firmly across your clit, making a ragged gasp leave your mouth. Your walls tighten around her fingers, and it brings a drawn out moan from her mouth.

Its unbelievable how well Shuri is able to read your body despite this being the first time, hopefully out of many, that she’s found pleasure and a strong desire within it. Her fingers separate with each thrust, reaching a depth within you that seems almost impossible and making a band of white appear behind your eyelids.

Your lips part on a number of moans, pants, and soft cries as you try your hardest to hold onto your sanity, though with every stroke, a piece of it crumbles away.

Her mouth is soon added into the experience, covering the entirety of your pussy as her hand speeds up. It isn’t long until your breathing speeds up, matching each thrust of her fingers as she lets her tongue run over your clit in a pattern that's…that's as disorienting as it is intoxicating. It changes from time to time, each lap gaining more meaning the closer you grow to cumming. It takes a while for your muddled and disoriented thoughts to t to put together each rotation, each sharp curl, each languid lick of her tongue; and when you finally do, your breath becomes trapped in your chest, and your orgasm is crashing over you and muddling your senses.

Your mind completely blanks as your lips part on a silent moan, your back arching away from the bed and more into Shuri’s mouth. Up becomes down and left becomes right because…as if to further prove that you’re hers, the letters her tongue spells against your clit join behind your eyelids until they form her name. Her name.

Shuri was spelling her name.

It crests over you in waves, each one more intense than the last as a ragged gasp tears from your mouth. Her fingers continue their motions, rubbing at that spongy spot inside of you that, for the time being, controls every part of your body. You can only hear static, and you don’t know if your eyes roll back completely or if you close them from the pure pleasure wracking through your body, alighting every nerve of yours on fire.

Shuri's hand that that’s holding your thigh moves until it snakes up your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps before settling on the curve of your breast, her thumb tweaking your now oversensitive nipple. It makes a jolt go through your body while also prolonging the waves of pleasure that threaten to drown you.

Your back arches off of the bed beneath you while your hand moves on its own accord, one fisting in Shuri's curls while the other clutches tightly at her hand. Her nose rubs against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, prompting you to pull her closer by her curls.

Your legs threaten to close around her head, but by sheer willpower, you manage to keep them open. But that's before your hearing returns, enabling you to hear Shuri's voice from where she’s still buried between your thighs. Her hand clutches at yours, threading your fingers together, acting almost like a lifeline for when the waves of pleasure finally take you…ironically, the waves of pleasure she’s causing.

"Breathe, usana. Breathe through it, love. Bast…you're so pretty…and you're all mine, aren't you?"

You want to answer, to confirm that you’re in fact hers in every sense of the word, but her actions suck all of the air out of the room. You think that she’s pushed you over the edge before, but then those words of praise leave her mouth…and then she angles her hand in just the right way and curls her fingers…and that's what makes the world fall away from beneath you.

Her words coupled with the vibrations they send through your core makes a choked moan fall from your lips as you attempt to follow her words. Her thumb rubs soothingly against the back of your hand, reassuring and comforting as you sag against the bed, your body shaking slightly at what it’s just gone through.

Your eyes flutter open, looking around aimlessly until they settle on Shuri. Her eyes are already on your face, her lips curled into a small, self-satisfied smile as she kisses your hipbone, then your torso. Her lips skim over each breast before she’s closing her lips over yours with a small sigh. Her body presses firmly into yours, the warmth of her body mixing with yours and only heightening your senses. When she pulls away, her eyes are still dark with desire and longing…infatuation, even, but they’re also soft. Caring. Loving. It makes your heart skip a beat or two.

“You okay?”

“‘M okay,” you reply breathlessly, your head nodding slightly. You want to say that the word ‘okay’ is such an understatement for the abundance of feelings flowing through your body at this moment in time, but you’re too busy finding and identifying the number of emotions in Shuri’s gaze. Each one you find makes your gaze soften more until your lips are curling into a small smile.

“Good…because you don’t think I’m done with you, do you?”

You find it unbelievable how her words are said with a heat that contrasts so much with the soft look she gazes at you with, and your acute surprise is apparent judging from the amused look on her face. It stays there as she raises onto her knees, her hands going to the buttons of her suit jacket.

Despite the heat in her words and the way that heat slowly returns to her gaze, you find yourself letting out a soft laugh, lifting onto your elbows to grow closer to her. You only let out another one as she raises an eyebrow at you, her hands still slowly removing her own clothing.

You can see the question in her eyes, though you only place your hands on her waist, running them up her sides before you can gently caress them over her breasts. The shiver that wracks down her spine makes your smile grow, and your voice is soft but with slightest hint of teasing as you speak.

“I bet you’re glad you brought me on this mission, aren’t you?”

Shuri’s answer isn’t verbal. It’s very much physical. Though she makes sure to whisper a number of affections throughout your night together, the most important one being ‘I love you’.

************

I hope you all enjoyed this! It's been a while since I've written any smut and I know I could've done better, but I really wanted to get this out. I started this one shot monthssss ago y'all, but I just remembered it and wanted to finish it before classes started!

You know the drill! Like, reblog, and please comment! I love y'all's comments! I love the interactions!

TAG LIST FORM

@luvvspice , @motherlanddrip , @vivisspam , @oceean , @sleepystarzz1 , @amaberry20 , @randomhoex , @euph0ricx0 , @motheroffae , @shinsousliya , @mrswrightt , @niyahwrites , @thadelightfulone , @shuriislut , @playhousedistee , @sapppy-cocktail , @honey-teaaaaaaaa , @tchhairbandhere , @zane2408 , @barkbarkbo , @butterflyybabe , @angelsmist , @ventingfanfics , @pocketsizedpanther ,

#shuri udaku #queen shuri #shuri black panther #black panther shuri #princess shuri #shuri x reader #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x reader smut #shuri x y/n #shuri oneshot #shuri udaku drabble #shuri udaku imagine #shuri udaku fanfic #shuri udaku smut #shuri udaku x reader #black panther #black panther fic #black panther imagine

326 notes · View notes

melkyt · 5 months

Text

ZoLawLu Omegaverse

So the idea that Alpha's make a nest to attract mates.

Alpha!Luffy, who is not interested in any of that, he's gonna be king of the pirates! But he still gets the instinct to build one, more than one. When he gets his own room on the Sunny, he has no intention of using it. Then his rut hits him.

The strawhat crew usually either stop on an island to start a fight for Luffy to work out all that energy by punching some bastards, usually with Zoro, who tends to have his rut at the same time as Luffy. It works and they always have a great time of it, maybe get a little handsy to work off the energy in other ways.

This time, though, this is just at the end of punk hazard when Law travels with them. He is an omega who tends to suppress his heats but with the stress, the fighting, and bigger things to worry about, it hits him full force when they are traveling towards dressrosa. Hits him strong enough that he can't use his power to 'fix it'.

Luffy has been around omegas in heat and was always there to help if they needed a cuddlee but never had even a passing interest for more. Those on his crew always made their own nest and had him sleep around in it just to have the idea of an alpha before kicking him out.

He assumes Law would do the same and asks either him or Zoro to be there to make it go faster.

Law does no such thing, he does not even nest. He resists every instinct and chooses to suffer until the heat and fever pass. He's cranky and avoids them by sitting in the cool air off the deck and cleaning his equipment.

Luffy doesn't like that, he makes them stop on an island, and the crew thinks for a fight. Instead, she goes around the entire ship, steals all the blankets around the ship and for the first time goes into the empty room. Zoro sees him do this and follows. Together they get everything they think would make Law comfortable, heart-shaped things, and feathers that they bought in the nearby town. It's a lot of bickering and laughter as their instincts as Alpha's work together instead of clashing. They have always been on the same page.

Then Zoro is the one who approaches Law first. Luffy is a bundle of nerves and energy. He waits long enough for Zoro to warn Law what's happening, before going in and lifting the omega over his shoulder. Law's smell fills his senses with how delicious it is.

Law sighs, slumping as he has no energy to even argue with them. His heats make him tired more than anything. Part of him is worried about what they plan to do, they are Alpha's even if he sometimes forgets the fact. Growing up in Doflamingo's mansion and seeing what sometimes happens with omega's he has his doubts.

Luffy plops him down in the blankets, absolutely glowing over pride at the nest he made. Something he hasn't done since it was first discovered he was an Alpha. It's messy and haphazard but extremely comfortable. It smells like both Zoro and Luffy and is so comfortable.

Law sits up, regarding the two men standing over him, as if asking what now, sitting in a way that might as well be a proposition. He is in a heat, inhibitions are out the window.

Luffy with his whole body just announces "cuddles!" His instincts stop at the making of a nest. He falls down next to Law and pulls him into a hug, nuzzling to spread his scent.

Law is not that surprised, he has seen how the entire crew just thinks different. Zoro gets on the other side, wrapping his arms around the omega, doing the same nuzzle, taking hold of Luffy's hand where it rests over Law.

For the first time in a long time, Law feels like he can let go of his guard during a heat. He is out soon after, followed by Luffy who snores with a gentle rumble. Zoro stays awake for a while longer, content to watch the two of them and marveling that Law can look soft and peaceful past the constant guard he puts up for the world.

#zolawlu #lawlu #zolu #omegaverse

50 notes · View notes

nycbabyjoey · 1 year

Text

The Mysterious Stranger

NSFW 18+ Only

Contains ABDL/MDLG/MDLB Content

This short story is inspired by one of my favorite ABDL captions of all time, The Mysterious Woman by BabyTB. So, all credit for the concept goes to them! Click the link and read their caption if you haven't already!

Edit: The Tumblr overlords decided my story tagged as sexually explicit was TOO sexually explicit. I've removed an image.

The whirr of the buzzing vacuum cleaner was so loud that Daniella almost didn't hear a knock on the door that would change her life forever.

She had been lost in thought as she did her chores, maintaining the home she shared with her husband Jack. It was the same routine as Jack went to his job as a powerful stock broker; she would spend the days scrubbing on her hands and knees and slaving away in the kitchen all for her husband to return home as they silently ate dinner together. Their marriage had lost its spark and life for Daniela just wasn't exciting anymore.

That's what Daniela was thinking anyway when the sudden knock came to the door. No one typically visited during the day. She wondered who it could be.

She turned the vacuum off, setting it against the armrest of the couch.

"Coming!" she shouted, as she briskly made her way through the living room and to the front door.

Daniela's face turned red, both out of embarrassment and anger, once she saw who was behind the door. A woman she didn't know at all was stood on her front lawn wearing a pair of jeans, a pair of glasses, and nothing in between, leaving her firm breasts to visibly wobble with every little movement.

"What's the big idea?!" Daniela shouted at the stranger.

"Is Jack home?" the stranger asked innocently. "I've heard he's been a really naughty boy."

That two-timing jackass, Daniela thought to herself. I should've known he was cheating on me this whole time, but I can't believe this little tramp has the audacity to show up when she knows he's at work!

"Jack happens to be my husband," Daniela responded firmly. "And he's not home right now, so why don't you take your skanky ass off of my front doorstep and never come back!"

Daniela went to slam the door, but the stranger's hand caught it and pushed back. Daniela marveled at how strong this woman was, despite not appearing so.

"Seems like Jack's not the only one being naughty," the stranger said, less smiley this time.

"Look, you have three seconds to get off my property or I'm calling the police," Daniela said, pushing the front door with all her might to no avail.

"Now, now," the stranger responded. "Is that any way to talk to your babysitter?"

Babysitter? That wasn't the response Daniela expected. What the hell was this lady on about?

"Fine, you asked for it," Daniela threatened, letting go of the door. She marched into the house to grab her phone.

"Daniela Gabriela Villafani," the stranger shouted with a harsh tone that stopped Daniela right in her tracks, "You come back here this instant!"

The sound of her full maiden name stopped Daniela right in her tracks. She tried to tell her body to keep moving, but she couldn't stop herself from turning back around and opening the door for the stranger. The woman's words had struck fear into her and, as if by some sort of magic, she was under her control.

The stranger grinned as she entered the home. "That's a good girl," the woman praised, petting Daniela as she walked past as if she were now her pet.

"Wh- what's going on?" Daniela managed, quivering in the open doorway.

"You and Jack have a new babysitter," the woman stated. "And she's going to make a few changes around here."

Daniela blinked and, by the time she opened her eyes, all the changes had been made. The house was the same, but with a few very noticeable additions. Across the foyer in the dining room, two chairs that normally sat at the large dining table had been suddenly replaced by two large highchairs. The living room where they stood had toys splayed across the ground - dolls, fairy princess wands, and a glittery unicorn hairbrush. A baby gate separated Daniela from her staircase. None of these things were here before, Daniela thought. We don't have any kids!

Daniela looked down at herself for the first time. She gasped at the sight, causing something to fall out of her mouth that hadn't been there before. She watched as her pacifier hit the ground, falling past a bunny-covered onesie and a short pink skirt before it the floor next to her fluffy, pink-striped, thigh-high socks! That's when Daniela realized - she was the kid!

As if to confirm, Daniela lifted her new pink skirt to see what was underneath, completely unconcerned that the intruding stranger would see her undergarments (she would be seeing them a lot anyway). Sure enough, her underwear had been replaced with a pink pair of briefs decorated with the Powerpuff Girls.

"Aw, don't like it as much as your sexy wittle thong?" the stranger teased. "And you thought I was the slut."

The woman cackled as tears formed in Daniela's eyes. She couldn't help but feel scared and intimidated like she really was the age she was dressed as.

"Come on, dear," the stranger instructed, extending out her hand. "Let's wait for your brother to get home." Daniela couldn't resist taking the woman's hand and following her past the baby gate to the upstairs bedroom.

"Honey, I'm home!" Jack shouted, placing his keyring on the hook next to the front door. "What's for dinner?"

No response.

Jack was puzzled. His wife usually had dinner ready to go for when he got home at 6:30 p.m. Not only was his wife nowhere in sight, neither was his food!

He looked around at all the toys thrown across the living room, leaning down to pick up a baby doll. "Change me!" its recording cried as he gripped it. This is odd, Jack thought. Had Daniela been watching one of the neighbor's kids?

At that moment, Jack heard a muffled thwap followed by wailing coming from upstairs.

"Babe, is that you?"

Again, no response.

Jack dropped the doll and began to make his way upstairs, eyeing the baby gate suspiciously as he stepped over it. As he made his way closer, the sounds became clearer. Whack! Whack! Whack! Over and over again like the sound of a whip being cracked, followed by a woman's sobbing. And it was coming from the master bedroom.

Jack opened the door to discover that their bedroom had completely transformed. Their beautiful king-sized bed was now a twin, with pink pillows and a Disney Princess comforter surrounded by a pink sparkly canopy fit for a fairy princess. Sat on the bed was a shirtless woman that Jack had never met and across the woman's lap was Daniela with her Powerpuff Girls underwear around her ankles and her pink skirt lifted up, exposing her bare bright red butt to her husband.

The whipping sound continued, which was simply the woman's hand lightly hitting Daniela's backside. Despite the light amount of force, Daniela kicked her legs and bawled uncontrollably, begging for the punishment to end.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Jack shouted. "That's my fucking wife! Get your sick kinky crap and get the hell out of my house!"

The spanks stopped, but Daniela looked at Jack in desperation as if to say "save yourself." The stranger just turned to Jack and said, "Well, well, well. You have an even worse potty mouth than Little Dani. No respect for authority, you two."

"Get the fuck out," Jack demanded, pointing at the bedroom door. "Last chance."

Maintaining unwavering eye contact with Jack, the woman tapped Daniela on the right butt cheek causing her to sit straight up. The woman stood up off the bed and paced slowly over to Jack. She was about the same height as Jack, but somehow with each step she took towards him, Jack felt smaller and smaller despite how confident he had been a second ago. He tried to stand his ground, but his legs shook in fear and by the time she had walked over to him, tears were streaming down his face.

"This is your last chance, mister," the woman shot back at the trembling boy. "Say sorry to me this instant for your rude tone."

Jack knew he didn't want to apologize - it was him who was wronged! And this woman shouldn't have been intimidating to him anyway, but yet... she was! Jack couldn't explain it, but he would've said anything in that moment to avoid being on her bad side. "I- I- I'm s-sorry!" he stammered.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm s-sorry f-for my rude tone!" he shouted, bursting uncontrollably into tears on the last syllable. He had tried to be tough - he was a power player, goddammit! But this strange woman had made him into a blubbering mess. And not only that...

"And look," the woman said, gesturing at Jack. "You went and had a little accident."

Jack wiped the tears from his eyes as he looked down to confirm. It was true! His work khakis were soaked and not from his tears. He had pissed himself.

"Don't worry," the stranger continued. "I'll take care of everything."

She snapped her fingers and Jack was on the floor. His business suit was completely gone, replaced by just a shirt and a large diaper to hold any further accidents. A bright blue pacifier muffled his sobs.

"Even your older sister kept her pants dry," the babysitter said condescendingly. "Guess you'll be the baby of the family."

Jack continued to cry as his babysitter picked him up for the first of many diaper changes.

"Jack, stop crying!" Daniela pleaded. "You know I'm not allowed to change your diaper on my own."

Daniela rolled her eyes as her husband rolled around on the nursery floor in his dirty diaper, banging his fists on the soft play floor.

It had been six months since the mysterious woman claiming to be the married couple's babysitter had entered their home and made it her own. And it had been six months that the two adults had found themselves unable to resist her control. She simply told the two that they could never leave the house, sometimes confined specifically to their nursery, and that was enough to render the pair unable to walk out the door and escape their new lives.

The husband and wife had now become baby brother and older sister. Jack stayed in diapers, was spoonfed baby food, played with blocks and stackable rings, and was tucked into his crib at night, belly full of the woman's breast milk. Daniela got the privilege of cartoon briefs, mac and cheese and apple juice, and her princess bed, but it wasn't any walk in the park. For one, she had to stay in the nursery with baby Jack, who couldn't keep his diaper clean for more than a couple of hours.

As she played with her Barbies on the nursery floor, she thought about her marriage six months ago. It hadn't been perfect and she had certainly complained about the lack of passion. But in retrospect, it had been nice. Sure, they didn't have sex SO often, but when they did, wow! She dreamt about sitting on Jack's big fat cock, up and down, until she just couldn't take it anymore and she just...

She sighed at the reality that that hunk was currently the man who was weeping next to her over his soiled diaper. Both her and Jack had been told they couldn't touch Jack's diapers and, like all their babysitter's demands, they were forced to obey. That juicy cock was imprisoned forever behind a pair of Pampers.

Daniela was lost in thought so long, she hadn't even realized that she had been absent-mindedly bashing her Barbie's genitalless crotches together, giving her butterflies like it had before she had discovered sex. Her unicorn panties started to dampen. She wasn't allowed to touch Jack's pants, she realized. But she could touch her own.

She used one hand to continue scissoring her Barbie dolls and she used the other to pull down her childish panties and touch herself for the first time in a year. The sensation was electric and thrilling. She had never become aroused this quickly in the past, but now she was like a starved animal. She continued to rub her clit as her husband's cries faded in the background.

The babysitter sat downstairs watching TV as she heard the mixed chorus of Jack's whines and Daniela's moans.

She shook her head. "Those two are always misbehaving," she muttered to herself.

For six months, she had been wrangling the two rugrats. Whether she'd catch them trying to climb over the baby gate (which was several feet shorter than either of them, but hilariously they were unable to step over) or throwing food in protest and begging for a piece of ribeye steak, she had had to deliver spank after spank after spank to get the couple to behave. But, they just would not accept that they weren't adults anymore. They were her playthings.

She had broken them in rather well despite all that, she thought to herself. Sure, she had obviously used her magic to make Jack have a little accident. But, most self-respecting men would have at least tried not to use their diaper after that. She had given him the option; she didn't use any magic! Regardless, little Jack was a big diaper-filler.

And now, here was Daniela trying to do big girl things. It was such a shame - she had been the good one! Oh well... this inappropriate behavior couldn't go unpunished.

The babysitter snapped her fingers again and smirked from ear to ear as she heard "No. No! No! No! NOOOOO!!!!!" echo from upstairs.

Just as every nerve in Daniela's body was shooting off and she was about to finish, the exhilarating rubbing excitement had stopped entirely. She looked down to realize that she wasn't rubbing her princess parts anymore; she was rubbing the front of a big, thick diaper. All her clothes were gone except for it.

"Don't you know I have eyes in the back of my head?" a voice said. Daniela turned to see the stranger stood in the doorway of the nursery. She simmered in anger, tears streaming down her face. How could she do this to her? Why was she doing this to them? What had they done to deserve this? Their life had been boring, sure. But, they weren't bad people and this was NOT the kind of excitement they had been looking for. And now, one brief moment of ecstasy stolen away. Daniela hated her.

Nonetheless, the babysitter rubbed salt in the wound, "Maybe if you stop being naughty, you can get your potty privileges back. But for now, I'll keep you both as baby twins. And you know what that means? Both of you can breastfeed for dinner. That's why I have two boobs, after all. Now, you two grind on each other before then. I want to watch you get all frustrated, unable to feel anything through your thick, puffy diapies!"

If you like my content, please consider supporting my Patreon where you can read exclusive stories just like this for only $5! Thanks!

#ab/dl #ab/dl caption #diaper caption #diaper humiliation #mommy kink #mommysbaby #diaperboy #ab/dl girl #ab/dl boy #ab/dl mommy

292 notes · View notes

legrandepapillon · 3 months

Note

Hi! I saw you are taking prompts for Wyllsrarion fluff!

Such a shame there is a lack of content compared to other Astarion pairings (i.e. with Gale or Durge).

Prompt fluff ideas, first kiss where Astarion realizes the depth of his feelings for Wyll. Or Astarion confessions to Wyll. His realization.

Wyll playing with Astarion's hair.

Wyll letting Astarion see himself through Wyll's eyes via tadpole and feeling how much Wyll loves him.

Astarion being fiercely protective of Wyll which may or may not surprise him (depends how early it is in relationship)

Since your say you are fine with NSFW then by all means go for it, I won't say know to Wyllsrarion spice. But it's also not entirely necessary because their fluff is just *chef kiss*

Asking anonymously because I am bashful...

Rating: T

hi anon, thanks for all the prompts you gave me!! i chose to use this one to respond to your ask, but i still put the others in my requests so keep your eyes peeled for those. one of them might be the spice you were looking for 👀

i think there’s something super intimate in hair care/trusting someone else with your hair care and i wanted to explore that here. i’m thinking maybe a part 2 to this where astarion tries to figure out wyll’s hair care & it goes disastrously bc i can't reconcile a universe where astarion is good at doing wyll's hair lol

Wyll had noticed that vulnerability did not come easy to the pale vampire in their party. He could hardly blame him for the matter either; after two-hundred years spent being ground into nothing by another man’s heel, he might begin to recoil at the idea of showing any weakness himself. Hells, it’d only taken seven with Mizora’s claws in his soul for him to begin to tremble at the thought of anyone seeing him at his most vulnerable in the same humiliating ways she had.

It was probably easier for their pale companion to lean into the more bloodthirsty, power hungry nature expected of a vampire spawn. To cast aside fickle things like sensitivity or emotion or fragility. He kept every single of his defenses up, the tripwires and traps in conversations with him deterring most of the others from prying down to the white meat of who he is. If it could be even remotely related to the feeling of helplessness, he would never want it associated with himself. Better to put on the armor of his more vicious traits, leave some of the softer stuff tucked in a well-armed chest at the back of his mind.

And yet.

Yet he obviously had never bargained to meet anyone just as dexterous and twice as charming. In all his efforts of keeping others out with his sharp tongue and sharp blades and well-placed traps, he’d never accounted for the possibility that there might be someone out there able to parry each strike and disarm every obstruction. Wyll could tell he had Astarion on the back foot more often than not. And at first the man had scratched and kicked and hissed at the idea of being seen and surreptitiously cared for. Of someone seeing all of his breaks and tears and taking the time to mend them rather than grinding salt into the wounds. It was truly a sight, watching as he braced himself for impact and then immediately melted against tender touch. He marvels at it.

A quarter way through their journey, surrounded by the glowing unfamiliar flora of the Underdark, and Wyll has already weaseled his way past so many of those traps and alarms. He hasn’t quite gotten Astarion to trust him, but it’s a very near thing now.

It shows in the way he slips into his tent every night, back from his hunts for more duergar and drow blood. He would half-stumble past the flaps of Wyll’s tent, illuminated in the shadows only by the odd glow of the vegetation surrounding their camp. Prop himself up awkwardly across the tent until the warlock arranged himself in a way that’s satisfactory to him. Wyll would always be ready for him—taking Astarion’s head on his lap, and placing one of the trashy adventuring novels they shared in his hands. The elf would read aloud from their novel, sniping at the dialogue and rolling his eyes at the prose wherever he desired whilst Wyll tended to the night routine for those rakish silvery curls of his.

All of it done with hardly a word these days, a tradition started after Astarion had gotten too drunk on a bear and kept for the sake of companionship. For the sake of having someone that understands intrinsically the fears of being vulnerable, the breath of a monster on your neck at each waking move, the exhaustion of being strong and the desire to be weak for a while.

It wasn’t trust, but it was as close to it as he could get.

Wyll begins rummaging through the small pouch of items Astarion keeps for his personal hygiene whilst the vampire flips through to the page they’d left off on. He daren’t bother with the intricate routine of the man’s morning care, the scrunching and twisting and styling a bit beyond his own proficiency. But he knows this act well enough, separating rows of hair gently with a comb and moisturizing both scalp and curls in a pattern. He does it himself, every two ten days—sometimes four, if he was too caught up with adventuring to tend to it sooner. His own hair is wild at the roots now, the fresh new growth peeking out from formerly tidy canerows. Since Mizora had given him his horns and claws, he’d been too afraid of attempting to navigate re-braiding with the foreign appendages. The thought of undoing the style, only to be stuck fighting with his hair in his face because he couldn’t redo it kept him off the task. Perhaps he’d be vulnerable enough to ask Karlach, when they got her touch fixed. Or maybe teach Astarion, so that their nightly routine could be reciprocated every now and then.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone treat him as tenderly as he does them?

Surfacing with Astarion’s cream and comb, Wyll readjusts the older man’s head in his lap before starting on his work. Parting the row of hair closest to his ear, before dabbing some of the moisturizer onto his scalp and then combing it through his curls. He’d once offered up his oils, the first time Astarion had run out of conditioner and the next merchant was another four-days trek back. But he remembers the way the vampire had recoiled—first at the genuine gesture of kindness, and then at the reality of it. He’d batted off the offer by insisting Wyll’s oils would only make his hair greasy and unattractive, but had managed to thank him anyways.

That had been before their little routine. Had he known then what he knows now, he might not have been so put out by the clear dismissal of help.

Another row, more of the conditioner. When he combs through the curls, he marvels at how they immediately shrink back into their perfect shape. It was the first thing he’d noticed about him, back at the grove. The sunlight that filtered through the halo of his silvery locks, the way they seemed to fall into place no matter which way the elf shook his head. Well-coifed and obviously tenderly cared for, he’d been utterly transfixed. Perhaps obviously so, with the way Shadowheart had snorted at his mention of it and Gale had given him one of those ‘I’m-going-to-find-out-what-you’re-up-to’ stares. There’d been no ulterior motive, of course.

Except for maybe this.

“Wyll, I can’t believe you read this drivel, darling,” Astarion complains, gently tugging him from his thoughts. Wyll doesn’t take his eyes off of his task, but he does make a noise to inform the other man he’s listening. “The young maiden hurried to cover her perfectly hairless body, squeezing her arms across her ample bosom. It did naught to help maintain her chastity though, as her full breasts spilled over her clutched arms. I mean, really. Talk about an author’s thinly veiled fetishes.”

“Ah, The Lusty Luskan Lordess,” he responds, comb delicately parting one section of Astarion’s hair so that his finger can swipe a bit more conditioner along his scalp. “I didn’t pick that one, remember? You stole it from that Zhents pack back at their hideout.”

“I did?” Astarion flips the cover to reveal the front art. It’s a rather lewd painting of a young woman, half-dressed in finery and throwing herself at a tall, broad and beastly mercenary come to steal from her tower. The vampire makes a snort of acknowledgement after a moment. “So I did. I thought the mercenary looked disturbingly like Halsin, you know.”

Wyll’s hand stills briefly in Astarion’s head, confusion written expressly over his youthful features. He scrunches his nose. “You wanted to read smut about Halsin?”

“No. I wanted us to read smut about Halsin. I thought it would be terribly funny,” Astarion lowers the book to get a good look at the other man—though upside down—and furrows his brow. “Don’t stop. That felt nice.”

“Your wish is my command, Lordess,” Wyll chuckles, before returning back to the small puddle of curls splayed in his lap. “Skip the smut if it bothers you so much, I want to know what her father will do now that he knows someone’s found her tower.”

“Skip the smut? And disgrace the artistic integrity of whatever pervert wrote this garbage? Absolutely not! We’ll read every bit of the smut, and I’ll add footnotes to correct it into something more realistic.”

“As if you’re the expert on sex,” snorts Wyll, walking face first into one of those many aforementioned conversational traps that Astarion had laid. The vampire stiffens in his hold a bit, and out of courtesy he withdraws his hands from his hair. It’s times like this, moments of levity followed by the crushing reminders about reality, that Wyll wishes they could’ve met in one of their fairytale books. With no Vampire Lord or Cambion Mistress to answer to, he wonders how their story might’ve gone. Would he have been able to sweep Astarion delicately off of his feet and off into the sunset? Would Astarion have allowed him to?

He laments how he’ll never know, and then puts those thoughts aside himself. Astarion is not the only one with a tightly guarded chest of fears and dreams and desires that he kept away from the rest of the world, hidden to where nobody—not even the devil that lives in his eye—could ever see it.

“After two hundred years, dear, I quite think I am,” Astarion hisses. Fair enough; Wyll had perhaps earned that one. The punishment for his misstep is not so bad, though. There’s a marked tension in the words of the man as he reads through the next line, and he lays stock still in Wyll’s lap. Curls half-moisturized by now, the damp bits chilling a spot on Wyll’s camp clothes. But he doesn’t get up and storm out, like he might’ve done in the early weeks of their odd arrangement. Nor does he curse the man to the planes of Avernus and back. Small mercies and little victories, the younger man takes what he can get and returns to his task.

Astarion does wind up skipping the smut scenes, grumbling that even he couldn’t wade through all that hogshit on a full stomach. Wyll isn’t perturbed either way, parting and moisturizing in methodical turns. They manage to finish two more chapters before his fingers half-abandon their task to merely run through the soft, silvery curls. Whether to placate Astarion or soothe himself is unknown, but it certainly does make him feel a bit calmer. He leans back against his tent, careful not to put too much weight on the precarious fabric. But with the gentle droning of Astarion’s voice and the steady, repeated motions of carding through his hair, Wyll feels like he could just doze off right there. His misstep in conversation goes all but forgotten as his eyelids get heavy, his ministrations against the vampire’s scalp slowed to a syrupy pace.

It isn’t until he feels Astarion move that he jerks back to alertness, adding a hurried, “I wasn’t asleep!” to make sure Astarion didn’t think his presence was at all boring or exhausting. The last thing he’d want is for these nightly rendezvous to come to an abrupt conclusion because he was rude enough to doze off in the middle of them.

“Ah-hm, that’s very convincing, sweetling,” Astarion mocks, before sitting up to run his fingers through his own hair. They come back slightly shiny with the conditioner, but even if Wyll fell asleep with a quarter left to do, the vampire seems satisfied enough with his work. “Come now. Before you wind up with a crick on your neck.”

He tries to protest, even as Astarion is already helping to arrange him into his bedroll. “I wasn’t done with your—”

“It’s fine, Wyll. More than fine. You did wonderfully; cut my morning routine in half, practically,” Astarion placates, though they both know he’s lying through his teeth. No matter whether he and Wyll finished their little night tradition, Astarion always took the same amount of time in his tent every morning. Gale had a running bet with the others on whether he was actually that self-conscious about his appearance or if he did it just because he knew Lae’zel preferred to get moving as quickly as possible.

Whether he’s being fed platitudes or not, Wyll gives him a warm half-smile. Astarion arranges the thin blanket of his bedroll around him in turn in order to give him a more comfortable rest. Their routine wraps up here the same every night. With Astarion’s hair seen to, and Wyll’s adventure romance novels read, company kept so that the others vulnerabilities would remain safe from the rest another day… the end of the evening would creep upon them.

Wyll never fully remembers the moments between consciousness—Astarion’s head in his lap and lily lilt of his tone reading the novel droning on—and unconscious—waking up drenched a cold sweat to an empty tent, the leftover laughter of Mizora chilling him down to the bone. How he gets from one point to the other. Sometimes he’ll doze off still in his padded armor and awake in his camp clothes. Once even fell asleep across the tent, and woke up tucked sweetly into his bedroll. Only faint memories of silver curls illuminated into a glowing halo by moonlight, and crimson eyes that track forlornly over his form.

And every night, Wyll would sleepily shoot out one hand to clutch at his companions’. Delicately wrap his warm digits around that frail death-cold wrist and give one half-hearted tug. His voice, laden with both exhaustion and deep yearning, he asks, “Astarion? Stay with me?”

And every night, Astarion would purse his lips into a line. As if he’s almost considering it for a moment. As if perhaps rummaging for a key to one of his chests that he’d long tossed aside, some sort of magic word that could make Wyll understand why he dances so hesitantly in and out of their… this… whatever it was.

“Perhaps when we finish the book,” he says, like he does always, patting Wyll’s hand gently. “Go to sleep—you need more of it than I do.”

“Goodnight, Astarion,” Wyll responds, already half there, letting his head loll to the side and eyes flutter closed.

The next evening, when he approaches his tent at camp, a fresh book awaits him… and a new tin of the conditioning cream. They hadn’t quite finished the Lusty Lordess, with a handful more chapters before she and her mercenary were able to achieve their happy ending. But there’s a new book for them to start all the same, the last one probably long-discarded between the days’ events.

It isn’t a ‘no’. Just a ‘not yet’. Wyll sighs and settles down on his bedroll to wait for Astarion to come to him. It’ll hardly be while there are still others awake, able to see him slip in and out of the other man’s temporary lodgings. But he knows that’ll it come, and neither of them will mention the fresh start to a book when one still went unfinished between them.

It seems there’s a few more traps he’d have to disarm before he could reach the man behind them. No matter to it; Wyll is a patient, tenacious sort of fellow.