#commandant riri

[riris-dock]

MR. BRIGHTSIDE, WAKE ME UP, & HOT N COLD ~ rebeccaselfships

Picking random s/is for all of them bshwgd thank you for the ask!!

Mr. Brightside: If your S/I had to describe themselves, what would that description be? Would they be honest with how they describe themselves?

Biggest liar s/i I have is Commandant so. Commandant tells people that she's just a regular girl from Earth that was lucky enough to end up on Babylonia. Very much not so that bitch sniped Babylonia ships for supplies until they let her in.

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Wake me up: If someone had to befriend your S/I, what's the one thing they could do and/or say to immediately get on their good side?

Captain just needs to see a sopping wet cat of a person and will take them in!! Just be pathetic enough and you get to go space travelling

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Hot N Cold: Are there any hobbies or interests that your S/I has that you don't also have?

Champ does gardening. Remember Isle a Beans in Gen 7? I could never do that shit vsjwgsjsbg looks fun but its not something I do myself. Also competitive stuff because I am not a very competitive person sgsubs

[talkingparrotkee]

One thing I like about MCU Shuri and also think several people sorely get wrong is that she's the more cool-headed character. She is slower to shout, panic, and anger, being relatively more laidback. Shuri would rather wall up and bury herself in her lab (M'Baku confirms this at Ramonda's funeral, and we see her doing just that in the beginning) before lashing out.

Even Ryan described how T'Challa was more hotheaded to T'Chaka's diplomat, while Shuri was the more cool and laid back one to fiery Ramonda.

We see it in her clothing styles.

We see this in the way she initially approaches things. Two key instances:

The way she first responds and confronts Namor. Shuri is still on defense at the river, but she is less combative or reactive compared to Ramonda. Shuri more quietly assesses and responds to him. Compare this to Ramonda, who immediately fires back and disregards what he says without even checking if it could possibly be true, to which Shuri has to point out some truths by empirical evidence (i.e., Ramonda dismissed him saying only they had vibranium, Shuri gently nudges her, saying he's covered in it, so that cannot be the case). A similar thing happens when she is down in Talokan with Namor. Throughout it all, Shuri kept a leveled head and bit back her tongue to think of solutions, even when things started turning south. She knew how to shut up as well rather than argue him down more (something not many people know how to do).

The way Shuri tried to extract Riri compared to Okoye. For starters, Shuri did not break into bathrooms or bring spears in Riri's dorm - she blended in and used the door. She did not make threats and give an ultimatum either. Shuri just tried to explain the urgency to Riri and draw her out without the use of physical force.

We also see it in her reactions with other characters.

In the first movie, she tells T'Challa to "calm down" when he shouts at her to drive. We also see her not care to fight T'Challa for the mantle, even if it is her birthright (she just wanted to go home and get out of a particularly uncomfortable corset). Instead, she prefers to fight alongside and as support.

Black Panther: "The Black Panther lives. And when he fights for the fate of Wakanda, I will be right there beside him."

Black Panther 2: "I was not trying to save the mantle mother, I was trying to save my brother."

For another example regarding her interactions with characters from Wakanda Forever, Riri is consistently depicted to be the more anxious and is more inclined to lose composure. Shuri, even when she's stressed or overwhelmed too, is often the one to remain composed. Shuri attempts to calm Riri down so she doesn't have a panic attack. Shuri also didn't reply when Riri started snapping at her about the FBI, only calmly working about and mapping out an escape plan.

One last particular example is with Okoye. Shuri is less quick to be defensive or shout compared to Okoye. We see it in the way Okoye commanded her to get in the car, and rather than shout back, she simply uttered quietly, "Why are you shouting at me..." Shuri didn't reply to Riri snapping, but Okoye did not let anything slide, pointing the finger back to her. During this entire exchange, Shuri was quietly observing before cutting in, saying how they needed to work together to get out of their situation.

Black Panther Wakanda Forever was her later in-character out-of-character. In other words, that unrivaled anger and snapping you saw was never her baseline. She's not an angry or vengeful person. That was the point of Ramonda, "Show him who you are," when she was hesitating killing Namor.

It was the result of her character at a breaking point. Shuri was not coping properly and dealing with frustrations she couldn't see her way out of. Shuri was struggling with spirituality. She was trying to know if her family was truly still there. She was trying to find the reason behind her failure and loss. Shuri already began cracking since T'Chaka died (see: Wakanda Files). T'Challa's death just broke her, with her narrowly holding her pieces together.

[the-kr8tor]

Dead Man's Hand

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.5k

Tags: Use of Y/N, sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Cowboy AU, wild west AU, CW food mention, CW vomit mention, CW blood and gore, CW guns, TW violence, TW abuse, TW suicidal thoughts, TW death.

A/N: if there are any warnings that I've missed please tell me so I could add it in.

This chapter tackles dark themes, read at your own discretion.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

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CHAPTER 10 >>>

The pungent, acrid and hot air of metal and gunpowder brings Hobie back in time as he slams open the steel doors to the factory with a harsh kick. Machinery whirs, and twists, sharp steel dancing to the beat of the flames as it turns molten iron into instruments of death.

Hobie roams his fury-filled eyes around the factory, green flames flicker in those eyes, finding grime coated faces of strangers staring back at him and his posse. One glances their dark eyes towards the upper level of the factory where a balcony is placed. Where Hicks would look down with contempt, and would scream at the overworked employees to hurry production. Hobie knows it all too well, the factory mirrors the one back home. In the middle of the balcony sits an office with frosted windows that bear Hicks’ name. But the man is nowhere to be found within the crowd.

“If you're not Hicks, get the fuck out.” He doesn't need to yell the command, for everyone turns to run outside towards the back exit where half of Miguel's gang lies in wait; and Hicks' lackeys lay dead on the soft muddy ground.

One running and hiding away amidst the crowd catches his eye with the same face as one of the men who buried him all those years ago. “‘cept you.” With one swift raise of his six shooter, smoke billowing out, a hole now sits on the man's torso where his heart should be. “Hicks, better get down ‘ere or my people will blow this place to the ground.” Hobie steps over the bloody body, crimson coating the sole of his boots. “Rainin’ bullets don't mix well with a room full of explosives.”

There's no movement nor a whisper in the entire factory save for the fading sounds of the machines slowly shutting off. He catches a glimpse of a shadow behind a closed frosty door in the upper level of the factory. It was quick and sudden, if not for Riri's gentle nudge towards the movement, he'd think he was seeing you again for a brief cruel moment.

“Ri, Karl, come with me.” Hobie emerges behind the blackened air from the large machines. Three sets of boots thumping silently as they bound upstairs.

He reaches the door, back on the solid wall and away from the glass. Riri stays on his right, shotgun cocked and ready while Karl checks his bag of TNT on Hobie's left. As he moves to open the door, a bullet pierces the glass, shattering it into sharp tiny pieces. A shard nicks Hobie's cheek, but he ignores the throbbing pain as blood trickles out.

“You're still alive, you little shit?!” Hicks yells, shooting blindly at the door.

The trio stays still and waits for the opening. A click echoes in the quiet, and clouds of gunpowder float through the air. Hobie and the others take their opportunity. Karl lights a stick of dynamite, chucking it inside the room and then ducking down to cover his ears. Hobie doesn't waste time, leaving the safety of the cover, he twists to face the door, shooting at the flying TNT— effectively blowing it near Hicks while Hobie holds onto his hat so that it doesn't get blown away.

The explosion causes Hobie to stagger backwards, if not for Riri pulling him back to the side, he would've fallen off the railings. Sulfur fills the air as they cough, puffs of grey smoke clouds the entire office space.

His ears ring, a sharp high pitched sound that he's awfully familiar with. He gives Riri a thankful nod, which she replies with a smug smile and a raise of her eyebrow. Hobie takes the lead, flicking his eyes towards Karl, who gives him a thumbs up, and with his hair all messed up from the explosion. Satisfied that his group is alright, he enters the fray. Smoke giving way to him and his raised gun. Shards of glass crunch at his feet, singed papers lay burned on the floorboards as embers flicker out in the air.

As the smoke clears out and the hot air of the south enters through the broken windows— Hobie finds no one inside the room.

“Fuck!” As he yells into the emptiness, a horse neighs outside, hooves running frantically away while bullets fly and ricochet. He immediately looks down, finding Hicks half burnt and riding away. “Like a fuckin’ roach.” Without thinking ahead, Hobie vaults from the window, softening his fall with a roll. Landing, knees aching but intact, he whistles for Bucky.

“Hobie, what the fuck?!” Riri and Karl simultaneously scream out, but Hobie's already running while Bucky follows right behind him.

Once Buckeye trots next to him, Hobie grabs hold of the saddle's horn to swiftly lift himself up on the saddle with a quick pull. No one's going to stop him, Miguel already considers Hicks dead just from the look of determination behind those green eyes.

Hobie leaves everyone in the dust. Bucky neighs wildly, huffing and puffing as he tries to catch up. “Hicks!” Said man turns on his saddle a few ways ahead, arm raising to aim and to shoot his gun. Bullets whizz past, hot air passing by as Hicks misses every single bullet.

Hicks’ scalding flesh makes him keel over in pain as his blood drenches his horse. “Shit!” He kicks roughly, his horse whines before speeding off.

Bucky gains speed, catching up to Hicks whilst he reloads. But of course, his hired guns finally catch wind. A handful of them appear from the side, trudging from the muddy swamp with alligators lurking underneath, and riding towards the bumpy road where the main chase is happening.

The rival posse hollars and hoots, sneering smiles and guns aimed at Hobie. Riri and the others are still catching up to him, so he's left alone to defend himself and Bucky. With fury fuelling him, he has everything to lose so he'll shoot through all of them like a hot knife through butter.

While the mercenaries leave the line of trees, Hobie enters the thicket, swerving to the side, using the large and sturdy trees for cover. The ground may be soft and muddy, but Hobie and his loyal horse have been in dozens of situations like this. The swamp might've slowed them down but it doesn't stop them as splintered wood flicks and flies while his enemies continue to shoot at his swift horse.

A bullet comes too close to his head, piercing a hole in the brim of his hat. He clicks his tongue, annoyed at the damage. Patting Bucky, he takes his foot off one of the stirrups to bring it to the safer side where no bullets could come at him. With two legs on one side, hand holding on to the saddle horn and reins, Hobie rides sideways, hiding his body while peeking over and shooting with calculated aim as Bucky runs back towards the path. One by one, the mercenaries fall off their horses with his bullets pierced through their bodies. The road is coated with their blood, leaving trails of rubies for his posse to follow.

Miguel trots closer, shooting at what remains of Hicks' men. The gang hoots at the sight, adrenaline rushing through their veins, and blood heating up from the violence.

While Riri and Karl have their eyes on Hobie, who now sits upright on Bucky, they kick on their horses and off they go, riding side by side with Him. Hicks panics from the sheer volume of horses running after him, with his last bullets, he aims at Bucky's leg.

Hobie beats him to the punch, quickly thrashing his whip made out of jagged metal wires, tearing the skin off of Hicks' arm apart when Hobie pulls hard at it. Hicks screams in sheer agony, tumbling and falling off his horse into the moist ground, soil entering his burns and mouth. When the dust settles, he looks up to only see the end of Hobie's gun.

It's silent in the marsh as the sun shines on his gun; frogs hum in the distance, gators trill when they smell meat while Hicks' labored breathing quickens. Hobie has his gun digging into Hicks’ skull, skin red and angry from his burns. Half of his face has melted into a mess of meat and bones, left eye barely opening from his melted eyelid. A pungent smell permeates from his oozing wounds, clothes torn and burned to ash, and ankle twisted at an angle. Hicks’ hands are buried halfway into the ground as he sinks down to the muddy plains.

Everyone thinks he should be dead by now, even Hicks himself, but death won't grant him the sweet release just yet— not until Hobie takes what he is owed.

“My, don't you look pretty, Hicks.” Hobie doesn't smile nor smirk at the sight of the man who buried him alive five years ago. A man who now kneels before him, disfigured beyond recognition, feeding the soil under him with his own suffering.

“F-fuck y-y-you.” Hicks' lips tremble from the unimaginable pain. “I w-will not b-beg.” He manages to curl half of his melted lips into one final sneer. “Not l-like how you did.”

“I don't want you to beg, Hicks.” Hobie digs the metal harshly, skin ripping and tearing like paper from under the gun. “I need to know where she is. You're dyin' anyway, your last words might as well be somethin' useful.”

Hobie's cold words makes the man scoff that quickly turns into a painful cough. “No. Didn't your old man tell you that revenge is a f-fool's game?”

“This isn't revenge, this is retribution.” Hobie tilts his head, looking behind Hicks where a pack of gators trill and show themselves under the green swamp. “If you tell me, I won't let the gators eat you alive.”

“Wha–?” Hicks' slowly turns his trembling head, skin painfully tugging with every movement. One of the gators snaps its maw, warning with its sharp teeth. The entire gang hears this grown man whimper from fear.

“They look mighty hungry, Hicks. Better hurry up.”

“You'd t-take me away from them?”

“No, I'd put you out of your misery before they get to you. Something you didn't give me back then.”

Hobie can practically see the rusty cogs in Hicks' head turning. “...alright, just don't let them eat m-me.” His burns flares up as he doubles in pain.

Hobie makes the man raise his head with the barrel pushing his chin up. “Sure.”

“She's at the big white house near Blackwater, just west of the r-road. You can't miss it.”

“You lyin’” Hobie doubts the information when he gave it to him too fast. Jaw tightening at the thought of you being so close yet so far from his reach.

“No, I'm not.” Hicks hears the unmistakable sound of the reptile crawling closer. “It's the truth.”

Riri flicks her eyes towards Hobie, leaning close, whispering lowly at his ear. “I know the place.” Hobie doesn't miss the hard look in her eyes. “He's not local, that place is well hidden, he wouldn't know that only the locals know about it.” She glares at the sniveling man, “It's ways away from the road he's talking about. Fucking far from it. Easily missed if you're not familiar with the place.”

Hicks figures out what she's whispering when Hobie's anger flares, hand tightening around his gun. “I'm telling the truth, Hobie. It's there and she's waiting for you! I promise! She's the one lying!” He points a crooked finger at Riri.

“Thought you wouldn't beg.” His fate is sealed with the gators. “Technically you did lie.” Hobie drops his arm, gun aimed away from Hicks. “Off you go with the gators, boss.”

“No, no, Hobie! Please, I'm sorry!” Hicks tries to grab at Hobie's leg, but Hobie kicks him down on the ground and on his back. He tilts his head back, meeting face to face with a ten foot alligator that seems to smile at him.

His screams echo around the marsh while Hobie and the others get on their horses. He watches the gator death roll the flailing Hicks on the muddied ground until the wailing stops completely.

Hobie leads the pack away while he leaves behind the sound of tearing skin and bones cracking under sharp teeth. And all he could think about is you, and how he could've had a good life with you.

—

Draped in chiffon and stab silk, iridescent blues and purples dance along the fabric as light hits it. Expensive fabric that hides all the aching blemishes on your flesh by the same men who claim that they are doing it for your sake, that it's the only way you would obey.

Your hands are tied behind your back with Cross' hand wrapped around your wrists in a sickening grip; preventing you from moving. You shine under the southern sun, all gold and frills but none of the happiness behind your sullen and dull eyes.

For a fleeting moment in those months you were with Hobie, you had peace. You'd stay there forever if you could, if only the world had granted it to you, instead of the pain that it brought down upon you.

You could've had a good life together.

It's been a whole month since the last time you saw Hobie alive. A whole month without hearing his voice, without his loving touch; and a whole month with the same family who has hurt you in every possible way they could. The image of Hobie buried under the rubble of your shared home spirals you over the edge once again. You've cried, wept and sobbed some more, but nothing has helped. You feel like you've died right next to him. You wish you had.

Meanwhile you have a wound that was never meant to be healed inside you. A wound that was momentarily healed, until you were brought back to the reality of your dreaded life.

You instinctively run your finger around the gold band around your finger, finding the unfamiliar diamond instead of the simple gold band that turns your face even more sour at the scalding heat that turns your heavy dress into an oven. You had the foresight to hide Hobie's ring the second you had a chance. It now lays underneath your floorboards waiting for you.

There's a heavy feeling in your chest, grief running along your heart, plunging your very being into darkness. It was like that day five years ago, you have no knowledge of him alive, no way of knowing if Hicks ended him. It's an awful case of déjà vu.

Both men stand beside you, as if they're meant to guard you. The estate stands behind you, its large shadow looming over you. All Its white marble and columns stand tall, doors that don't creak, windows pristine and gleaming— but you'd rather have the pile of ashes you once called home.

This place lacks a heartbeat.

You flick your tired eyes over to the well beside the estate, your body shivers from how cold it was inside, when you sank into it like stone the first time Hicks threw you inside. It's a miracle you didn't break your neck, in that moment, you wished it had.

A carriage arrives from a distance, horses galloping along the road towards the estate. Wispy cypress trees sit around the path, parting way for the dirt road leading to the house. Its soft leaves dance in the wind, leaves fluttering by as you watch the carriage get closer and closer.

“Remember to smile, we can't lose their money.” Hicks grabs the back of your dress, yanking your neck down for emphasis. “Don't be a bitch like last time or you'll get the well tonight. And I heard it'll be cold tonight.”

“I'll be in my best behavior, uncle.” Your glare towards the rich couple exiting the carriage says otherwise.

Hicks only gives you a stern look before letting you go. Cross loosens his grip for a moment and you immediately take your hands in front of you so he couldn't hold you again. You haven't spoken a word to the man you call husband since you arrived at the estate. Your defiance got your bedroom door locked from the outside for now but was taken apart for the first week of your stay. Showing you bare to the entire world, revealing to the world that you're his.

The woman clad in gold and gemstones huffs, flinging away a fly from her painted face. “God, I hate this humidity.”

“This better be good this time, Hicks.” Her husband takes his tophat off, wrinkling his nose at the scent of heat and damp marsh.

“You won't regret traveling for this, Mr. Burnell.” Hicks sucks up to the man. “My, don't you look lovely, Mrs. Burnell.”

She giggles, hiding the blush dusting her cheeks with a fan. “Oh don't be such a gentleman, Hicks.”

“Stop sucking up to my wife, Hicks.” Even though his smile tells you that it's a joke, his tone says that he's completely irked by your uncle. Perhaps this has happened before.

You roll your eyes subtly, Cross’ jaw tightens as he shakes hands with both guests. “It's a pleasure to have you both today.” He says flatly.

“An honour.” Your tone is tight, lips turned into a strained smile.

“I remember you,” the male Burnell smiles faintly at you. “And you too,” he points at Cross. “I was at your wedding, what a wonderful ceremony.” You clench your fists tightly around your lace gloves, almost tearing the fabric.

“Oh I also remember!” His wife claps, “your gown was lovely, and the deviled eggs were to die for!”

You laugh, a sound more akin to a scoff. “I should've had some back then.”

Mr. Burnell reaches for both of your hands, holding you gently as you make a face at him that doesn't quite reach the man's full understanding. “I'm sorry about your aunt, we sent flowers to the funeral. I hope it was to your liking.”

“I wouldn't know, I wasn't there.” You swallow thickly.

“Oh poor dear,” The woman touches your cheek, and you flinch away. She coos as if you're a child. “You couldn't even bear saying goodbye.”

“Sure,” you slide your hands away from the man's hold, and then you take her hand away from your skin. “That's why.”

Hicks inhales deeply, “why don't we go to the gazebo? Tea is being served there.” He takes their attention away from you.

“We came all this way and you don't even have lunch for us?” Mr. Burnell raises a thick brow, his wife agrees with a nod.

“We did.” Cross finally speaks through gritted teeth. “It got cold.” The couple flares their nostrils in annoyance.

“This place was hard to find.”

“You had us waiting for two hours. Hardly an excuse, Mr. Burnell.” Cross doesn't back down from the older man's stare.

“W-what my associate was trying to say was that— we didn't want to serve you all cold beef! No one likes cold beef, correct?” Hicks tries to save the day, but they don't respond. “There's deviled eggs in the gazebo.” That seemed to work as they followed Hicks towards the blue gazebo behind the house.

Cross yanks you back to his side before you could get far. Your chest tightens, threatening to stop your breathing as he whispers towards one of the estate workers to prepare a batch of deviled eggs immediately. The second they leave, you glare at Cross, refusing to touch him even though his fingers dig into your arm.

“Don’t run, Y/N.” He says for the umpteenth time. You would run, and you had a few times while you're with him. But you were only met with your cheeks burning into the shape of his palm, and his hired guns dragging you back inside the mansion with their lassos tied around your ankles.

“I can't even breathe in this dress, moreso run in it.” You try to take your arm back but he stops you with his nails dragging along your sleeves.

“Be good, be fucking obedient. Don't be impossible like you always were.” His green eyes remind you so much of Hobie that it taints his image in your mind. You refuse to let it fog his image.

“I am not a dog, Cross.” You fight back, why shouldn't you? You have nothing to lose now.

He comes close to your face, jade eyes reflecting the fear in your expression, breath wafting over your face. “Then don't act like one.” His eyes pass over your face, finding fear laced in between the creases of your expression. His tone softens, one that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don't you call me by my real name? Cross is our last name, Y/N. Can you call me—”

“No.” You yank yourself away even if it means that his fingers drag along your arm in a manner that makes your skin run cold.

The next thing you know you're sitting next to Mrs. Burnell, who swallows down deviled eggs like its water. The entire table is set all prettily, blue laces sitting under white porcelain, utensils draped in silver, and chairs soft whilst the gazebo with lilacs growing on the roof acts as your shade. A graveyard full of Cross’ ancestors lies just a few ways away from the gazebo. Withering gravestones left unattended, and overgrown grass drowning each of the carved names. It leaves a heavy presence in the back of your mind.

The fork in your hand shakes, silver shining in the sunlight bearing down behind you just as when a pair of red cardinals fly next to the gazebo. The murmurs of the marsh echoes around the estate, gators trilling a few ways away, birds chirping and cawing right next to croaking bullfrogs. You're surrounded by green with a dash of greed as Hicks continues to suck up to the rich prospective partners.

A hand cups your own, and for a flicker, you thought it was Hobie's calloused hand gently holding onto you until his nails jab into your palm. Cross gives you a hard look, gesturing for you to eat instead of staring blankly at the cakes in front of you. With a mocking smile, you take a glass of cold orange juice on your right, condensation drenching your ungloved hand. You don't break eye contact as you gulp down the entire glass, making the Burnells look at you with pinched brows. For the final touch, you exhale loudly as if you were thirsty beyond belief.

Hicks chuckles nervously, eyes darting from you to the rich couple. Cross is fuming silently, letting your hand go limp on the table. An employee comes to your side, refilling your glass as everyone at the table stays in awkward silence. You can't help but puff out your chest with pride. Hobie would've loved to see that. Their faces would be worth it for the wrath you're about to face.

Mr. Burnell clears his throat, “as I was saying, we can't give twenty thousand for only ten percent shares. It's daylight robbery, Hicks.”

“Oh come on, Quentin, you've known me for a long time!” Hicks plays the ‘old friend’ card, a trick you've seen one too many times. “You know I can be trusted, and that ten percent will go higher once we've had our foothold here in America.”

“I do know you, that's why you can't be trusted. Even her aunt knew better when she gave the company to her.” Burnell pauses, bespectacled eyes staring at you briefly. Your lips curl up into a smirk. You probably don't have to work too hard in sabotaging this one. “Besides, that was back when you were the leading manufacturer in the UK. There was a guarantee, now you're here in a country that is practically shitting bullets by the buckets.” He leans back in his seat, “face it, you old dog, there's no profit here for you.”

“He's right,” His wife enters the conversation, dabbing her mouth daintily with a handkerchief. “Why did you even move here in the first place? I heard the company was doing badly back home but not that bad, right?”

Hicks coughs, drinking from his glass, stalling from answering. Cross has had enough, he leans on the table, elbows right next to his untouched plate, white suit unblemished.

“Because I'm here.” He takes your hand, making a show of it for the Burnells. He's using the ‘I love my wife’ card. Surprisingly, it's only the second time he has used it on the rich and stupid. “And my wife deserves to be with her husband, yes?” The couple looks at each other, then returns their attention to you as you try incredibly hard not to vomit all over the table. “I've…ignored her for far too long while I'm always here tending to my own business.” He clasps the back of your hand with his free hand. “We were deeply saddened by her aunt's passing, but I saw a silver lining. Taking the tragedy and turning it into something better by bringing her and her family business here to my home so we could finally start having our own family here without the dark cloud looming over us.” He was right about one thing, your aunt was a dark cloud looming over everyone. Cross leaned close, pecking your hand chastely. “Right, love?”

You close your eyes to prevent yourself from heaving out what little you've eaten. “Right.” Tone small and disgusted, you have the sudden urge to stab his eyes out with a fork. For a second, your mind gives you that exact image. Seeing his blood spurt out from his sockets and spraying on the deviled eggs.

For some reason, even with the disgusted look on your face, the Burnells' hard exterior softens. The missus clutches the pearls on her chest as if she just heard the most romantic story, and the male Burnell nods along with a fond smile. “You two remind me of my first marriage.” His wife chuckles, you frown, eyebrows knitted together as Cross plays along to his concocted story.

They continue their negotiation with more enthusiasm. Hicks pats Cross gladly on the shoulder, already drafting up a contract on a piece of parchment. Thankfully, Cross has let you go. Free to wipe your hand on your dress. You replay the last minute in your mind, like you're stuck in the moment he touched you with his dry lips upon the same hand you used to cradle Hobie's face with.

The conversation fades into the background, a thought passes you by, one that you're too grief stricken to see until now. Why is Cross even helping Hicks? He has the money to fund whatever the factory needs, he doesn't even need to be in the conversation. He has nothing to gain from this. He already has you, so why does he seem so desperate to get this partnership?

Then it hits you, he's as bankrupt as Hicks. Hicks, who drove the company to the ground with his moronic decisions the second your great aunt was in the ground. And Cross, there was never a day in your short marriage with him that he wasn't out gambling his family fortune away, or going to exotic places you've only read in books. When he doesn't have his hands on you, he's at the nearest pub or the derby races, betting everything in his pockets. You always just thought he had that much money to lose. But you were wrong. And the only reason you're here is because of the money your parents have set aside for you, money that is tied up with the company or what is left of it— the company that you own and have the last say in. Until your name isn't written in that contract that Hicks shoves in your face every morning, they have nothing.

“You have nothing.” You blurt out, you don't regret it immediately.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Burnell says, offended.

“Not you, I know you have money.” You place your elbows on the table, chin propped up on your scarred palm. “I was talking about my dear uncle and beloved husband.” Your words drip with venom and sarcasm.

“What are you saying?” Mrs. Burnell asks, concerned, either for your well being with the two men or for the money she almost lost.

“Shut it, Y/N.” Hicks says through gritted teeth, eyes warning you.

“Don't tell a woman to shut up, Hicks.” Surprisingly, Mr. Burnell defends you. “Speak, girl.” And there goes your respect.

“They don't have anything.” Cross tries to yank your hand back but you quickly tug yourself away. “Hicks is lying, the company is losing money, not gaining it. Production has been down since they moved here, probably because Hicks doesn't know how to run a company.”

You continue your tirade without missing a beat. “He was a manager before marrying my aunt, but he was a shit manager. If not for Peter—” you inhale and clear your mind. “All I'm saying is, he's asking for a scapegoat for the debt collectors, not a business partner.” You flick your eyes mockingly towards the seething Hicks. Meanwhile, Cross sits quietly, you're afraid but you have to continue. “I retract my previous words.” Hicks inhales with relief. “It's not probably, it's definitely.” He stutters, trying to save face but you continue. “He's overworking the workers and because of that there's more mistakes. More mistakes means more bullets that come out a little crooked. That's good, if your targets swerve to the left.”

“She's lying!” Hicks laughs shakily, fists slamming down on the table. “You know how women are? She's hysterical because of her aunt's passing.”

You scoff. “You said it yourself, Mr. Burnell, you don't trust Hicks.” All eyes are on you. Your words fill you with pride, Hobie would be proud. “As for Cross, I wouldn't even trust him with my coin pouch.”

The Burnells seemingly believe you, heads turned slowly towards Cross and Hicks, eyes boring holes in their foreheads. “Looks like we wasted our time. You're right, honey, we should've gone for the Winchester instead of this clown show.”

“You believe me?” You ask, bewildered. “That quick?”

“We passed by the factory on our way here, that's why we were late.” Burnell answers back. Already taking his belongings to leave. “We saw the horrid conditions. We were naive to believe that it was like that because you're still getting used to the transition.” He helps his wife up as Hicks follows behind the couple. Cross stays behind silently while you stay with the Burnells in hopes that they'd take you with them. “Thank you, girl.”

“You're welcome, c-can I—” The couple gets in their carriage, eyes blinking at you. “Can I come with you?” You sound like a child, voice trembling in hope that they'll say yes. “Please.”

Hicks chuckles incredulously right next to them, but his eyes grow dark at your request, a warning. Cross appears behind you, green eyes hidden by the shadow of his hat, lips clamped into a fine line.

“What for, girl?” Mr. Burnell asks, “We don't need any more bootlicking. We're not giving you the money for the factory.”

You flex your fists on your sides, eyes darting in between Hicks and Cross. Heart thumping, you have to try. “I don't— it's not that. I don't need the money. I—”

“So you do have the money for the company then? Why bother asking us?” The older man cuts you off, scoffing while his wife rolls her eyes. “Kids these days, so greedy.” He gets in the carriage, following his wife.

“Wait! Please!” It's too late as they run off in the distance. In your desperation, you start to run after them. But before you could go far, Cross stops you with his arms embracing you from behind. “No! Please come back! They're hurting me here—!” Your flailing stops when Hicks steps in front of you with his gun raised.

“Do you have any idea what you've done?” He clicks the hammer down, finger right on the trigger. “You've doomed us.”

With tears in your eyes, Cross holds you against him tighter. Chest aching, breath stolen from you. “No, just you!” Yet, you continue to fight. You might've lost hope a long time ago if not for Hobie. Hope that you'll get out like last time, hope that Hobie will be there waiting for you. But there's a part of you that just wants to let go. Looking over your shoulder, you're met with familiar green eyes that used to fill you with calm. “And you.”

“I should shoot you right here.”

“Do it then. But you can't because without my signature you're fucking broke!” With a cackle, Hicks yanks the back of your head, taking you from Cross' arms, dragging you towards the well. Body scraping against soil, you try to scratch at his hands but it doesn't deter him as his anger fuels him.

“Fucking bitch, you keep ruining shit!” He yanks you to your feet, and then pressing your front to the mouth of the well while pushing you down harshly, making you look down at the depths.

You yelp, sharp rocks digging into your stomach, eyes forced to look down at the deep dark well. It's cold down there, you wonder if this is what it felt like for Hobie back at the farm. Staying quiet, your hands grip the sides to keep your balance, a bead of sweat falling down and leaving ripples as it hits the stagnant water.

“What, no begging or screaming and crying this time?” Hicks latches on your hair tightly, scalp burning from his hold.

“I've gotten used to the dark. You won't hear me begging ever again.” Your voice echoes down to the bottom. “You can't hurt me anymore, not in the way that matters.” Releasing your hold on the sides, you lean closer to the edge. Expecting the cold embrace and the familiar weightlessness, it doesn't come.

There's a scoff above before you're let go. “I have to correct your fuck up.” He seethes, giving your leg a swift kick as you lay your head on the stone. “Deal with her.”

“I'm not one of your employees, Hicks.” Cross challenges him.

“She's your fucking wife. You discipline her while I go to the factory. As for you,” he flicks the shell of your ear. “Your name better be on that contract when I get back.” You hear their continued bickering whilst you even out your breathing. Just like what Hobie would tell you.

After a rustle of clothing and dress shoes thumping on the ground, you fall on your knees, still clutching the well. Face hidden from Cross, he sighs, hand reaching towards you. Feeling the sickening familiarity of his hand wrapped around your arm, you instinctively flinch away.

“Why couldn't you just obey, just this once?”

You heave, furrows knitted in anger. Looking over your arm, your glare sends goosebumps up his arms. “I'm not one of your hounds.”

“Then why do you kneel like one?” The sun behind him engulfs his entire form, turning him into a breathing shadow.

“Go fuck yourself, Cross.” You shakily stand up while avoiding his gaze. Walking towards the house, you clench your fists until you feel your blunt nails leave pin pricks of crimson

“I'm trying here, Y/N. You're making it impossible.” He yanks you back, neck craned to the side to look at you. “I'm holding back but you're not making this easy.”

“You sound like this is all my fault.” You still avoid his eyes, forgoing to look at the tree behind him. “I'm not the one who gambled all your money away. And I didn't force you to marry me.” His fingers pull you closer.

“Look at me.”

“Fuck you—” you try to escape but he's stronger.

“Look at me just like how you look at him.” He forcefully turns your head with his hand burrowing into your chin.

With apprehension, you chuckle, a cracked dry laughter. Your eyes slowly move to the green eyes in front of you. “I'll never look at you like that. Nothing you do will make me look at you with the same love I give to him.”

Cross swallows thickly, jaw tightening. “Why him?”

“It felt right. We share the same heart.” It's the first truth you've said in a month, and for once you smile genuinely. “I'll always love him, remember that.”

He inhales, and you wait for the impact.

“Sir?” The housekeeper asks from the side, hands wringing in front of her. “Is everything alright?” Her brown hair shimmers in the sun like copper, lips turned into a fine line.

She reminds you of the former housekeeper that tried to help you by taking your letter addressed to Hobie. Cross found out about it, you haven't seen her since then.

“We're alright, Belinda.” Cross lets you go, leaving a mark on your arm. “Fetch me my hunting rifle.”

You leave with haste, hands shaking as you hitch your skirt up. You can feel his sickly green eyes on you, like a shadow that envelops you whole.

You've crossed the line, and you fear that this is the end for you.

—

Pacing around your room, you walk around and hold your breath. It's like waiting for the gallows, waiting for the bullet to hit you. Hobie's ring is back on your finger instead of what Cross gave you on your wedding day, which is the exact same one you left on the bedside table when you escaped. You twist it around your finger as the room shifts and twirls in your vision.

The room is finely decorated with daffodils painted on the walls, gold fixtures on the ceiling with painted deers trotting overhead on fields of green on the ceiling. The room looks like it used to be a child's room. A pale blue bed sits in the middle of the room, draped in a satin canopy. It's a stark contrast to the room back at the farm, all wood and none of the gilded walls. But you'd choose that a hundred times over if given the chance. Especially if Hobie's there waiting for you.

You feel like you're slowly disappearing into the walls.

Your eyes have been glued to the door as you chew your nails. You'd lock the doors from the inside if the locks weren't instead bolted from the outside. Tears brim at your eyes, but you refuse to let it go as you sniff. You miss your home, you miss the smell of dew in the morning. You miss Clover and how she cuddles on your side. You miss Cherry and Bucky and your afternoon rides with them. You miss him, you miss Hobie and how he holds you gently, how he talks to you about things. It's him talking so you'd listen and speak with him until the sun decides to sleep. You miss his voice telling you that everything will be alright.

You wonder if everything will still be alright when you hear heavy footsteps outside your door.

Cross doesn't knock, and you wait at the foot of your bed, standing straight, eyes forward and daunting despite your fear. If he shoots you through the door now, would Hobie be there to greet you on the other side as darkness engulfs you one last time?

This house will be a tomb. Your tomb.

The door doesn't creek as Cross opens it. “Hunt with me, just like old times.” He has a rifle strapped to his back, suit traded in for his haunting gear, still clad in white leather. Your eyes flick over to the two guns on his belt. If only you could take it from him. Or at least one.

“Giving me a gun? Do you think that's wise?” You cross your arms over your chest, clearing your throat so he doesn't notice the shaking of your voice.

“Why? You'd shoot me in the back?” He asks chidingly.

“In a heartbeat.” You say without even a hint of a joke. “What's even out there, Cross? What are we hunting down?”

“A deer.”

“I don't think there are any deer out here.” A dangerous silence hangs in the air, choking you as he stares deeply at you. You inhale, swallowing down your fear as best as you can. “If you give me a knife instead, I will stab your eye out. Killing other things won't keep us from killing each other.”

He clicks his tongue, hand on the gun like he's mocking you. “Take the dog instead.” Taking the leash off his belt he holds it out for you. “A dog for a hound. At least this one is loyal.”

“Which end of the leash is the hound?”

“What do you want, Y/N, hm?” Tossing the leash harshly, he stalks closer, and you flinch back. A doe caught in the coyote's eye. “I broke your heart, I get it. Do you want me to apologize to you?”

“My heart? That's the only thing you haven't broken yet.” He stops a few feet away from you, yet still too close to you. “You broke my body until I could barely recognize myself anymore. My arms bear the shape of your nails, my scalp remembers the sharp tugs of your hands.” You exhale as a tear falls down your cheek. “Hobie broke my heart, but he pieced it together, piece by tiny piece.” You point at him repeatedly. “You, you broke everything else.”

“If this is about your aunt—”

“Fuck you! This isn't about her.” If this is really your end, you don't want to leave without saying the words you've been meaning to say out loud. You tremble for a second before grinning with tears in your eyes. "I'm glad she's gone. Her hold on me is gone.” You chuckle breathlessly, sighing loudly. “There I said it. It's like a boulder has been lifted off my shoulders.”

“Y/N,” there it is, the patronizing tone he uses on you. He's about to guilt you into something you haven't had a hand in, or chastise you like a child.

“Stop being so fucking delusional, take the blinders off for one fucking minute.” The fire in you latches on you. “This is about you and how you hurt me the second you brought me home after the wedding. You knew that I never wanted to marry anyone else, and that my aunt and Hicks hurt me back home. And instead of helping me, taking me away from them, you joined them.”

“I got you out of there. I married you.”

You laugh without an ounce of humour, clapping wildly. “Well thank you very much, Cross!”

“I tried for a little while, Y/N. But I'm your husband, and you continued to disobey so I had to go to them, ask them for advice.” He walks closer, you stop him with a hand in front of you, as if it will shield you from him. You've tried that once, it didn't work.

“Nothing you do will make me forgive you. I hope you drown in your guilt if you even have an ounce of it. I hope you lay awake at night thinking of how much you hurt me. I'd rather die than forgive you.” Cross steps forward with an unreadable expression, and the back of your knees hits the bed as you try to get away. You eye the gun, you fear that you won't keep your promise to Hobie.

The world already ended for you when Hicks killed him.

Cross tries again. You think it'll be the last time he will the second he walks closer to you, so close that you can see yourself in his eyes. “Sign the papers, Y/N, and everything will be over.”

“You know the second I sign it, Hicks will kill me.” Your eyes wander towards his unlatched gun.

“I won't let that happen.”

You laugh in his face, “Sure, but you'll let him hurt me. Might as well sign my death warrant instead.” Standing back up, you inch towards him bravely despite your instincts telling you to shield yourself. You have to get that gun. “I–I tried to love you at first, and remained optimistic in this marriage.” His eyes are on your face, irises darting over your lips while you sneak your hand towards his gun belt slowly. “Even indulging my idiotic childish whims of what a marriage could be like. But I couldn't, not when you hurt me just like they did. Only because I didn't love you like how you thought I would.” Your hand finds the cold metal, fingers wrapping around the handle. “For a second there I thought you'd be my saviour, when in fact it was the opposite. You joined them instead. You were just as bad as them.”

You stand toe to toe with him. You hear a glass breaking downstairs, and then the smell of something familiar. Snatching the gun quickly, you aim it at his stomach, steel meeting flesh. You feel the same sensation against your chest.

“I love you.” Cross utters, finger right on the trigger.

“I've seen love, this isn't it.” With your cold words, you shoot.

Both guns go off.

Both hitting their targets.

—

The sun is just beginning to set, orange peeking from the horizon, hues of pink and orange blanketing the three men. Each inhale from the cigarette perched in each of their lips has grey smoke filtering through their lungs. They should be guarding the front door like they were hired to do, instead they chainsmoke their way out into an early grave while hiding behind the estate, facing the vast green marsh that hides their debauchery from the rest of the world.

“You hear any cryin’ last night?” The one with an auburn beard asks, his rifle leaning against the wall right next to him instead of in his hand like it was supposed to be in.

A dark haired man answers, belching out smoke while crouched on the ground, eyes narrowed at the whispering willows. “Yeah, i think the stable boy wasn't lying, there's a fuckin' ghost here.”

“You two think it's a fucking ghoul or some shit?” The third one replies with a scoff, blonde hair peeking out from his hat as he takes a swig of moonshine.

“Yeah,” The first two responds, spine tingling when a cold breeze passes through them.

“It's the boss’ wife, not a ghost, you morons.” As the yellowed haired man responds, a bright flicker of light appears in between the willow trees. “What the fuck?” The two men next to him follows his terrified gaze, cigarettes falling off their lips.

The light moves, as if it dances in the wind. It flickers, brightening up into an orange glow before turning yellow once again. The three outlaws move from the wall, eyes glued on the mesmerizing ball of light.

“Fuck, it's a swamp ghost—” the one with the red beard gasps, choking on his own blood, frantically trying to stop his neck from gushing out ichor with a knife stuck to his throat.

The other two only had a split second to react before a sharp knife slashes at their exposed necks. They mirror each other, shirts stained with red, palms coated in warmth and crimson while they frantically try to stop the bleeding. They croak and creak out, eyes managing to fall upon hazel eyes, and one with his face covered in soot. They both hold a glinting knife, blood still trickling down from the steel.

Miguel leaves from his hiding place in the thicket, eyes flicking briefly towards their twitching forms before returning his gaze at the ball of light. He nods to Riri and Karl, who stand above the corpses. And then he gestures with his gloved hand, giving the warm light a small nod.

The light comes closer, footsteps echoing as boots sink in moist soil— appearing behind the darkness of the trees and into the fading light of the sun. Hobie's face is revealed behind the light with a lit cigarette in between his lips, shadows dancing around the fury behind his green eyes hidden by the brim of his hat. He inhales before flicking the cigarette away, falling into a puddle. More appear behind him, trees and bushes parting before the dozen men and women following in his steps.

“Karl, light the oleander for me will you?” Hobie tosses the bag of pink flowers in Karl's waiting hands. And then he takes his knife back from the auburn haired corpse, wiping it on the grass before sheathing it back on his belt.

“D’you think that'll work? What if she gets caught in it?” Riri whispers, gesturing for the gang to crouch down and hide beside the wall where the trio were last seen smoking.

Hobie drags one of the bodies, hiding it behind the bushes while the rest of the gang help with the other two. He follows Riri, blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins at how close you are from him. It's only a matter of time before you're back safe and sound.

“She knows the smell, she'll cover her nose.” His voice doesn't waver, but his insides are turning and twisting inside him. He can't fail. “As for everyone, cover your damn noses, and protect your eyes as much as you can.”

“This won't kill us right?” Karl weighs the bag in his hands.

Miguel checks his bullets beside him, giving Hobie and Riri a once over if their weapons are lacking. “At most it'll make us sick and itch. Right, Hobie?”

“Just don't inhale it directly.” Hobie yanks his bandana up to his nose, fitting it snugly. He notices his hands shaking, closing his fists tightly, he cannot fail. A month of tracking you down can't end with him failing to save you, he can't lose you. “You know what to do, Karl. Ri go with him.”

“Hobie,” she clasps the back of his fist. “Be careful, alright? If you get hurt, call Roberto, he'll treat you.” Inhaling sharply, she pats his cheek. “Get her back but don't die on us, alright?”

Hobie couldn't look directly at Riri, “She goes first, Ri.”

“I know, that's why we brought Roberto with us, remember? He's the doctor, he knows what to do and…what to expect, if need be.”

Hobie nods, staring at his family. “Thank you for backing me up, I owe you. All of you.”

“Don't die and we're even, Hobie.” Miguel pats Hobie's bicep before heading to his designated position.

“What he said,” Karl smiles brightly, fist connecting to Hobie's clenched one gently. “Also if I don't return from this, Robbie's gonna fucking kill you, man.”

Hobie cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know. Try to stay alive for the both of us then.” Karl makes his way towards the front while Riri staggers behind, still holding onto Hobie's hand. “Just like Valentine, right?” Riri smiles, hiding her trepidation behind her bandana. He fixes the cloth over her face carefully, tugging it over her nose and ears. “Keep that snug.” She could only nod, eyes brimming with tears. “Don't die on us too, Ri.” With a quick embrace, she leaves, following behind Karl who was waiting for her.

Hobie takes a second to breathe. He has done things like this a hundred times before, but never with you on the line. He can't leave without you like last time. He won't cower behind wooden walls like last time, he's not gonna stand here and tremble and rot and bleed. He's going to get you back. He knows he will.

There's a gunshot echoing inside the estate just as when a glass window breaks, signaling the beginning of the end.

—

The house falls and chaos reigns. They tried to stick to their plan of using stealth, but of course someone saw them and alerted everyone in their presence. Karl got the oleander thrown inside the halls, puffs of pinkish fumes swell out from the bag. Hobie sees the result of it as black smoke turns the estate into the pits of hell. Hobie's eyes waters but he continues to strike anyone who wasn't on his side. He throws his spiked whip towards someone who tried to shoot at Karl, the barbed whip rakes and breaks skin as he tugs and pulls until the man falls down next to his shredded flesh.

Screams echo around the estate, his posse lets go of the innocent unarmed employees while the others aren't so lucky the second they aim back.

They try to fight their way inside, finally thinning the outlaws outside as flames trickle from the burning bag towards the velvet curtains. Embers climb up until they hit the ceiling, fire licking at the once white walls, leaving burn marks in its wake.

A few of the hired guns surrender after recognising Miguel's gang, some were fools who tried to shoot them down but his allies were in greater numbers. More experienced, more bloodthirsty than the hired guns.

All the winning cards are in his hand, all he needs to do is play them right.

“Miguel!” Hobie yells while he and three others try to push through the main doors that refuse to budge open.

Miguel, who was currently brawling with a man taller than him, grunts when a fists harshly connects at his jaw. Hobie curses under his breath, without wasting a second, he aims and shoots. Gunpowder fills his lungs once more as the burly man falls on top of Miguel in a thud.

Hobie stalks towards Miguel, he shoots someone who was aiming at him on his left, his bullet doesn't miss even without him looking at the target. He grabs the body by its vest, yanking it off Miguel.

“Get up,” he reaches for the breathless gang leader, hazel eyes smiling at his old friend.

“I had that, Hobie!” Despite his broken nose, Miguel is back on his feet the moment he takes Hobie's helping hand. “Retirement, huh?”

Hobie shakes his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Fuckin' retirement.” Reloading his gun, he goes back to the locked doors with Miguel now in tow. “On three!” His shoulders meet with the oak, “one!” Miguel nods next to him, bracing himself on the door. “Two!” A few more join in, ready to push the moment he says, “three!”

The doors burst open, splintering wood scattering, smoke coming out into the fray. Hobie meets with Sheriff Lee's eyes before a bullet hits him directly on his shoulder.

“Fuck!” He falls on his knees, clutching his wound as blood seeps through his fingers.

“Should've left when you had the chance, Mr. Brown!” Lee taunts, reloading his hunting rifle, giving Miguel enough time to drag Hobie back outside and placed behind the wall. “Come back here, murderer!”

A few shots ring out, both parties exchanging bullets. Your face appears in front of him before it’s replaced by the doctor's face. He needs to get you out quickly before the oleander takes hold. Hands tie a bandana around his wound, Hobie stands up the second that the cloth is tightened.

“Keep that on!” Roberto yells above the booming gunfire. “I’ll fix you properly right after this!”

Hobie nods, blinking the haze away. Miguel shakes him awake while avoiding his injury. “Lee's down! We'll handle the rest down here, we heard that she's upstairs.”

“Okay,” Hobie inhales and exhales, I'm almost there, love.

When the bullets stop flying inside the now bullet ridden manor, he steps foot inside. Glass crunches at his feet, eyes darting and alert from any surprises. He sees bodies littered on the marble floors, both from his side and Lee's. The sheriff lays under a pile of broken vase, eyes wide open, fingers still enclosed around his gun. The smoke thickens, and he hears blasts reverberating around the house.

Miguel's posse storms the place, pocketing whatever shines inside the house. A few more bullets are shot from deep inside the walls, but it's clear who's the winner. Hobie just wants you back.

Just as when he's about to climb the winding stairs with his throbbing shoulder, he sees a man stagger out from a room. “Is that—?” The bloodied man in the hunting gear trips and falls off the railing, plunging down right next to where Hobie's standing.

Cross lays on his own puddle of rubies, a gaping hole in his stomach instead of his insides. “H-help me,” Begging, he looks at Hobie with his bloodshot eyes, reaching towards Hobie's leg with his broken hand. “She's upstairs. Y-you can have her.”

“Is that him?” Miguel asks, and Riri appears from the side. Eyes watching the wounded man. Hobie nods, eyes never leaving Cross.

Hobie aims at Cross' head, seething. “She is not a thing to be had.” His aim stays true, but he shakes his head, lowering his gun down. “Nah, I'll let her bullet kill you.”

Miguel smirks, while Riri and him have a silent communication. “Don't worry, Hobie, we got rich boy.” He takes out his lasso from his waist, crossing the distance towards the dying Cross.

Riri gestures for Hobie to continue up the stairs. “Go! We'll be waiting.”

With a grateful nod, Hobie runs up the stairs towards his fire and his light. His heavy footsteps echo, breathing staggered as he thinks of you. What if he finds you in the same condition as Cross? What would he do if he sees you bleeding out? So he runs despite his own injuries, to see you again, to hold you again.

He follows the blood trail once he gets close enough, instead of your smiling face greeting him back, he stares at your body covered in crimson. Soft blue bed sheets stained with dark rubies. Arms spread on the bed as you lay on the soft mattress with your eyes unblinking towards the ceiling.

Hobie calls for you, air sucked from his lungs with every step he takes. He reaches for you, tears turning you into a watercolor painting in his vision. Red and blues blending into a watery picture.

You feel like you're in the bottom of a well, staring up at your aunt's sneering face. Your breathing is labored while the bullet is stuck in your chest, right below your ribcage. There's no pain, no feeling in your fingers as you see Hobie's face appear from above. Head perfectly lined up with the deer antlers painted on the ceiling.

“Found the deer, Cross.” You murmur, eyes hazy, lips barely opening.

“Stay awake, love.” Hobie's hand trembles as he rips his bandana off to stave off the bleeding by plugging the wound. You cry from the sudden pain, hands flying towards his wrists. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry.” His tears flow down your cheek. “This'll be over, I need to carry you.”

“Hobie?” Your eyes focus on his face, meeting with his viridescent eyes. “Are you real?” Nails dig into his flesh, you sob, fingers shaking whilst you reach for his face. The pads of your fingers brush along his jaw, stubble returning you back to reality. “I'm so s-sorry, I should've told you.”

“None of that.” He holds onto the back of your hand, letting your palm rest on his cheek, lips brushing along your wrist. The matching rings reflect the growing fire ebbing towards the room.

“It h-hurts, Hobie.”

Sniffing, burning wood enters his lungs, sobs threatening to pull him down to you. “I know, I know.” He wipes the tears and the sweat off your forehead. “But we need to move, love, there's a fire and I need to carry you down.”

You gaze at his green eyes, sorrow and grief twisting and turning behind them. They remind you of home, of Clover, of Cherry and Bucky. And you remember your promise to him, an impossible promise that you will try to keep. But if it means that it's his end too, you have to break it. For his sake.

You grip his shoulders, Hobie notices how weak your hold on him is. “Okay, okay, carry m-me down.” There's a taste of copper in your mouth, lips coated in the bitter taste.

He nods, wiping his tears with his sleeves before sliding his hand behind your back, finding your warm blood sticking to the bedsheets. “I got you.” Whispering against your crown, he lifts you up mere inches away from the bed before you scream in agony. “‘m sorry!” He cries into your hair, your grip weakening even more.

“W-we can try again.” You slide your palm to his nape, “try again, Hobie.”

Hobie flicks his eyes towards you, the light behind your eyes is starting to dim. “Help!” He yells in desperation at the door, in hopes that someone comes bounding up the stairs. “Riri! Miguel! Anyone!”

Your heart breaks, “Hobie, Hobs.” Patting his chest, it's getting harder to breathe. “L-leave. Leave me here.” Hobie's already shaking his head. You smile softly at him, the best you could do despite your body dying. “You have to, you can't die here.”

“And you do?” He cups your face, “we still have forever to go, remember?”

He doesn't want you to come back as a dream anymore, or a shadow embracing him from behind; or a pain in his chest when he hears your name in his mind. He doesn't want your ghostly kiss to taste like ashes on his lips.

He doesn't want you to go.

“I'm sorry, I can't keep my promise. B-but you still can.” You weakly push down at his nape to feel his forehead against yours one last time. Your eyes are starting to close. “Live for me, would you?”

“No, please.” His palm slides right above your heart, feeling your heartbeat slow down. One last time, he yells for help. His throat burns as the ceiling above is engulfed in flames. No one comes to help. “I have to break my promise too, love.”

“Don't, please.”

“A life lived without you isn't a life well lived, remember?”

You accept death in his warm embrace. “I'll see you in a bit then.”

Flames engulf the room in its fiery destruction. Paint melting off the walls, wood and glass cracking under the pressure. And yet, he still holds on to you, lips pressed on your cold lips in a fleeting goodbye.

“Hobie!”

—

In the middle of nowhere sits the remnants of a farm with clovers growing all around it. Vines snaking along what remains of the farm house, and in those vines, pink hydrangeas grow and thrive amidst the cinders. And behind those darkened wood sits two graves with clovers growing on top of the soil. Two names are etched on simple limestone graves, they bear the same last name and same date of death.

Many travelers pass through the place without ever knowing the story behind the two graves. Seasons come and go, flowers bloom and wither. But only a few ever knew what used to stand on the emerald farm. What used to grow, what colour the house was, and who used to live in it. Stories were whispered and told but only a few truly knew the story behind it, few who came and visited and placed flowers on each of the graves.

And in those few, only three of them know that the once abundant farm where two graves were dug right under an oak tree, are empty.

The stories and the graves were enough to fool anyone left that wants to hurt either one of you to turn back and lament.

The true story lies behind the northern border, where pine trees grow up to the skies. Where snow and ice envelops the whole place. Where the two names etched on the gravestones in the empty farm now live.

“Stop bullyin’ your brother.” The dappled foal yelps, trotting away from his much bigger older brother. The dark horse with white splotches turns his bright blue eyes towards Hobie, huffing and puffing like an annoyed teenager. “Don't huff at me,” great, now he's the one talking to horses. “Go tell your dad not to have any more kids. Not my problem, junior.” The young horse rears, running towards the barn where Buckeye and Cherry sleeps.

Hobie leans on the fence, watching the sunrise on his expansive land. Horses and foals run around freely, feeling the cold gust of wind in their manes. A few sheep roam the grounds, while a pair of cows chew their way towards the fences. Snow-capped mountains rise up high in the background, white snow dusted along the rocks like sugar. While the trees dotted along the mountainside makes for the perfect scenic view. He pulls at his jacket closer to himself, fur tickling his nose as he breathes out puffs of smoke from the cold temperature. Winter’s coming, he can feel it in his joints as another breeze rolls in. He smiles in contentment when the air carries the sound of ducks quacking from their coop, and the smell of morning dew passing by. No more does the smell of fiery gunpowder graze his senses, and no sounds of bullets firing ringing in his ears.

He keeps his hat snug on his head, Clover runs by with her litter of puppies tugging along. And he feels you before you arrive by his side. A smile tugs on his lips, hand already reaching for your waist.

“What are you thinking about, cowboy?” You flutter your eyelashes, chin placed in his shoulder.

“That I have it good, too good.”

You give him a tender smile, leaning to kiss his jaw. “None of that. This isn't too good for you, you deserve all of this.”

“Too early to wallow, huh?” Hobie wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer, and then he twists around to face you fully, back leaning on the fence, admiring you in the bitter blue of dawn.

You find penchants on his sternum, nose nuzzling his scar. “So fucking early.” He laughs, music to your ears.

“Hard to get used to, huh?”

“Kind of, it's a good feeling though, waking up.”

“You feel okay, right?” His palm pats your chest gently where a scar lies. “No breathlessness? Nothin'?”

You sniff at the cool wind, “nothing, I'm fine, Hobie.” You cup his cheek, jaw rounded at the edges, scruff tickling you, he looks as if time hasn't passed. “Nothing to worry about.” He leans towards your touch, fingers bracelet around your wrist gently, lips meeting your skin. “You okay?”

“Never better, love.” His green eyes twinkle, free arm pulling you impossibly closer. “Especially today.”

You tilt your head playfully. “What's today exactly?”

“Cheeky,” he pokes your side. “You know what day it is.”

You feign realization. “Ah! I remember now, Riri and the gang are coming over.”

“Yes, and?” He grins, biting his lower lip, jade eyes crinkling at the corners. Seeing the matching rings on your finger and his own makes him smile wider.

You suck in your teeth, acting like you're thinking. “It's Bucky's birthday?” Hobie rolls his eyes with a chuckle, and you finally relent. “I know what day it is.” You lean away, taking out a letter addressed to Hobie from your pocket. It's filled with affectionate words, loving thoughts and everything in between. It's a love letter just for him. “Happy anniversary, Hobs.”

Hobie's chest fills with a sense of belonging, heart full with his love for you. He keeps the letter in his coat pocket, right above his heart. “Happy anniversary, lovie.” He pulls you back, you giggle as your palm hits his chest, fingers snaking up to his nape to guide him towards your waiting lips.

“Forgot something, cowboy?” You say against his lips, and he nudges your nose with his own.

You feel something grazing against your chin, and when you flick your eyes down, you see a letter written in his hand, addressed to you. You tamp down your excitement, snatching the envelope, giving it a peck and tucking it inside your jean pocket.

“Never, read it together like always?” He pecks your warm lips once, then twice before indulging himself in your warmth.

“Yes,” you utter, breathlessly. “But inside, your tea, and the girls are waiting.”

Hobie chortles, kissing you again before reluctantly pulling away. “They're awake?”

“They smelt breakfast.” You inhale, letting his sandalwood and mint scent waft over you with ease. “If you hurry, there might still be some left for you.” You begin to walk away, hand grasping his palm.

“Alright, just one more then we'll go.” He pulls you back to his chest gently as you giggle atop his lips. He kisses you like he did all those years ago.

In the middle of nowhere, his story begins. And in the middle of nowhere, his story ends with you.

A/N: Thank you so much for sticking around this long! Our beloved cowboy is finally happy and at peace 🥺 If you loved reading OPIN please consider reblogging ❤️

[amplifiedmoan]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x Black!fem reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), mentions of drinking, long distance relationship, phone sex, masturbation, vibrator usage, switch!Reader, switch!Shuri, just overall slutty behavior.

Word Count: 1.7k+

Synopsis: Just read it mf! 😒

Author’s Note: This is my first completed fanfic in a long time! I am a little rusty so please bare with me… I do love criticism when it comes to my writing, so feel free to share your thoughts!

There you were, standing in front of Shuri at the Airport. Another successful visit that will most definitely end in tears. You quickly looked away from her, as said tears began parting through your bottom lashes uncontrollably, coating your brown cheeks. You were severely emotionally attached to her and it was showing. “Ndicela ungaqalisi, Y/N.” (Please don’t start) Shuri said softly, whilst pulling you into her chest. The smell of the Wakandan cologne on her hoodie, casted a spell on you. These were the moments you dreaded the most. She relaxed her chin onto your head gently, as a deep breath broke free.

“One more day?” You whispered. Her jaw clenched at the thought of leaving you. You knew what she was going to say but it would hurt you even more not to ask. The young woman slowly let go of you, so you released your grasp on her. “I’m afraid I can not stay any longer. I have to be back in a few hours.” She voiced. Under her tight curls, were red and watery eyes just like yours. Shuri didn’t dare let those tears escape though. She knew exactly what that would do to you. The image of her crying would have you balled up in a corner for days.

“I love you, Sithandwa sam.” (My darling) Shuri pouted, before kissing you on your head and then on your soft, plump lips. “I love you always, Shuri.” You handed her a neck pillow and she chuckled before placing it onto her shoulders. “Always?” She asked, already knowing the answer of course. She loved getting reassurance from you. “Always.” You responded.

You walked away from her. As you made your way around the car, you fought the urge to jump into her suitcase. Knowing Shuri, she wouldn’t even take you out of it. She’s been wanting you to come back to Wakanda with her even before you two started dating. Shuri is completely aware of the way she makes you feel. One time she set up a surprise visit, unbeknownst to you of course... And thanks to Riri, she caught you in the middle of the club trying not cry to a love song.

“You’ll text me when you arrive back on campus, yeah?” She shouted, walking towards the automatic doors. It was more of a command and you knew that. “Of course, baby. Be safe.” Was all you had left to say, before the horrible, empty feeling creeped up into your chest. “I will. And you too, usana!” (baby) Shuri smiled and gave you a small wave, before disappearing behind those doors.

“So why didn’t you just go with her?” Riri asked while untying her shoelaces, leaning against her bed for support. “I’ve got my Mama here and school… I can’t just leave everything behind.” You scuffed at her impractical words. You sat up against your headboard with a tragic romance book in your hand. If it were easy for you to dip out and just go live in Wakanda, you obviously would.

Riri placed her hand on her hip and pointed in your direction. “Alright, but this continuous crying every time she leaves gotta stop. I got Deferential Equations class in the morning and I can’t be listening to yo ass sobbing into your pillows all night.” She laughed as she watched you reach for a pillow to throw at her. The pillow flung swiftly and hit her right in the head. You began laughing as well.

“My girls will be here in 20.” Riri glanced at you and then her attention was planted back into the mirror. Partying was sort of Riri’s thing… She would drink and drink until the bartender would start to question her. It was a little concerning, but she was grown. She was never late to any of her classes in the morning and she took good care of herself.

“You coming?” She asked, while applying a little bit of mascara onto her lashes. You had been in your dorm bed for hours at a time, ever since you dropped Shuri off at the Airport. You understand the fact that she is now the Queen of Wakanda and the Black Panther. However, it was nights like this where you wanted to be selfish, and keep her all to yourself.

“Nah… I’m waiting for Shuri to call, so we can go to sleep.” You muttered softly, while plugging your phone up to charge. “Aw, y’all so damn cute.” Riri chuckled, before grabbing her purse. You knew she’d be out for a few hours and that meant you’d have all the precious time alone… with your girlfriend.

“Mmmm… fuck!” You wined, as you held your vibrator onto your puffy, abused clit. You laid on your bed completely naked with a towel underneath you, catching anything wandering down your pussy. Shuri’s voice hitched through the phone, as she also toyed with herself.

The phone sat on your chest while both of your moans circled throughout the room. “Ah shit!” You screamed, trying to hold out for Shuri. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep this up, before you came again. “Oh, fuck!” You cried. Your 2nd orgasm of the night, taking over your entire being. You continued to circle your vibrator around your sensitive bud, gasping for air.

“Keep it there.” Shuri said with a whisper that was loud enough to be heard by you. Your eyes widened at the thought of the overstimulation.

“I… can’t!” You wined as it all became too much very quickly.

“Yes… Yes you can.” Shuri said as she continued to run circles around her own clit. You could hear the desperation in her voice. The need for you to just deal with it. “Pretend that it’s me, usana.” (baby) She said lowly, her body began trembling as she chased her release. So that’s exactly what you did. You pictured Shuri’s slim fingers parting your lips delicately. You imagined her sucking and playing with your little ball of nerves, just like your toy was. “Feel it?” She asked and you pressed the toy down much harsher than before. Your body jolted at the vigorous touch.

Shuri rubbed her weak spot a bit faster, once she realized you were close. She always knew when you were about to cum. Shuri knew your body entirely too well. The certain sounds you’d make, gave her all of the ammunition she needed to drive you completely insane.

“Yes…yes!” Your cries were like music to her ears. Just hearing the deep breaths you were taking, pushed her closer over the edge. “Fuck, YN!” She hollered as she began riding out her own orgasm. “Nceda nceda!” (please please) she whispered into the phone.

Whenever Shuri spoke Xhosa, you instantly became wet. Although in this case, you were already drenched. It was something about her speaking her mother tongue, when English couldn’t exactly describe the way you made her feel. It made your walls clasp around air.

“Yeah… let me hear.” You chuckled. Your body still trembling while you put your toy down. “Ah…ahh.” Soft moans departed from Shuri’s lips. You sat up, placing your phone on your shoulder. “I did this to you, baby.” You declared.

You guys were far away from each other, yet so close. You both controlled each other impressively without struggle, despite being hundreds of miles away. “Ndiyakudinga, usana” (I need you, baby) she admitted, while slowly pulling her fingers out of her pussy.

Hearing her so needy for you caused a familiar heartbeat in between your legs. “Put them in your mouth.” You instructed her. She obliged, ignoring her extremely jaded limbs. “I want you to taste it for me.” You added.

Shuri’s mouth extended. Her tongue attacked her fingers faintly. “Mmmm.” She hummed softly. Her satisfaction of tasting her very own substance made you snicker. “That’s right.” You murmured. You flipped over onto your stomach, ending the call to FaceTime her.

“Tell me how good you tasted, beautiful.”

You smiled at her in the frame. Shuri’s lips glistened, moistened with her cum. “It tastes great… but it lacks something.” Your eyes narrowed at her response, wondering what could possibly be stopping it from being perfect. You always thought it tasted fresh… organic.

“What?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. Shuri caught that and couldn’t take her eyes away. She sat up in the camera to get a better view of your face. “Your touch.” She uttered gracefully.

“Oh, we had a ball… You should’ve came, girl!” Riri twirled in the mirror, kicking her heels off. She wasn’t completely drunk this time, she remembered to take her shoes off and she’s not slurring her words. “So, what’d you do this whole time?” She asked while removing all of her jewelry. You pretended as if you didn’t hear her for the fun of it. You continued to flip through the pages of your book. “Yo? What did you do?” She asked you again. You shut the book softy and crossed your arms. “Nothing really.” You cooed. She seemed really interested in your night for some odd reason. “I thought you’d be sleep by the time I got back.” She spoke as she walked into the bathroom. “Shuri never called?” She questioned, her voiced echoing throughout the room.

“Yeah, she just had to take care of a mishap in her lab… She texted me saying she’ll call back in the morning.” You vocalized, while putting your AirPods in. “Oh! Okay.” Was the last thing you heard before Riri jumped into the shower. “Finally!” You thought to yourself. Shuri sent you a voice note about 5 minutes after Riri got home and you’ve been dying to listen to it ever since.

“Sleep tight, usana.” (baby) You read the message she sent to you after the voice note. You smiled tenderly before pressing play. “Ah! Oh shhh…” You heard blaring moans from your lover. It made you grin, thinking about the way she recorded this just for you to hear. Your pussy began pulsating under your blanket.

“Ndiyakufuna.” (I want you) Shuri let out gentle wines in your ears. Your fingers slithered down into your panties, coming into contact with your clit once again. You figured this would help you sleep and so did Shuri. The headphones caught every solitary noise she made and that made your orgasm ram through your insides like a no other. “Oh god… fuck!”

I hope you enjoyed! Please do not repost my work outside of tumblr. ©

[wonryllis]

idols you see your moots as?

、ㅤ🧳 ⋆ ࣪ 午 MOOTS AS KPOP IDOLS ᵎᵎ

already did it HERE before so i'll only include the new ones whom i have talked to at least a few times! sorry if i missed you it's probably because we haven't talked much! ( MUTUALS )

@koishua wendy, red velvet. i have this image of her from all the clips i have seen of her greeting fans and reporters(?) outside sm where she rushes cutely and waves and gives autographs all so sweet .. that's exactly vie

@lheebra chungha, soloist. queen behaviour, mature, iconic, really talented, always comes out with bops. an adult actually adulting vibes. will do what i want to do and will do it successfully vibe.

@isoobie giselle, aespa. just now reason, riri is giselle without any explanation to the last of her core. really pretty and gorgeous and rap omg riri is so rap coded it's confirmed.

@fakeuwus miyeon, g-idle. uwu nic got that fairy princess vibes. delicate, elegant, classy and beautiful. smiles like a rich nepo babygirl but genuinely is so nice and sweet.

@lilyuwon yena, soloist. playful, cute, everyone's lildol friend, smile smile and smile. hyper active and always there to support and always spreading positivity and madness!

@theyluvvaubery eunbi, soloist. got that mature and leader vibes, like she got a presence in the room that's known and that she knows it very well. also has a sort of leader sweetness??

@sainns hanni, new jeans. cute, crazy, cool, deranged. round but got a hot english accent and a funky behavior. always says the most unhinged shit with a smile on her face vibes.

@stwrjvke yoon, stayc. everyone's bright friend who is always there on all trips to make it fun. and she's there during hard moments to remind everyone to smile? that's what i feel like

@jaylaxies irene, red velvet. veteran vibes, leader vibes, queen vibes. just she knows what she's doing and she knows she's relevant. and she knows guys are shit and she's everything. omg i hope that wasn't rude ㅠㅠ

@alvojake chaewon, le sserafim. leader material, smarter baby smarter material. her hips don't lie and i feel like she's a real good dancer and would rock a bob like chae.

@sserasin yujin, ive. bold and cool and hot in a girl's girl way. gives me real "she wears the pants" vibes. command the room vibes fr and that she's some sort of a succubus omg.

@pockettwinzz ryujin, itzy. tomboy types but majorly like a girl's girlfriend and everyone's crush and "treat you better than your boyfriend" vibes. basically ur gf.

@hooniehon sana, twice. hmm quiet? and cute? very reserved but as a friend really outgoing and fun vibes. that video of sana holding a rabbit and going crazy over it, that feels like claire.

@pprodsuga rosé, blackpink. iconic? also aussie vibes and also blonde vibes. josie feels like she came right out of the on the ground mv and that it's embodied in her for some reason.

@intromortal karina, aespa. how do i say this, just intimidating, resting bitch face and mean girl leader image from afar. but once you get to know her she's the sweetest little bean on earth.

@kareyuns mina, twice. sweet and shy and really friendly once you get to know her. has that vibe where you see her in public somewhere and think oh she's so pretty?

@glitterjay taeyeon, girls generation. just got that veteran vibes. like she got experience but also has that really funny side i don't know how to explain >< just like humble downtoearth?

@rk1stars yooa, oh my girl. from what i have seen, you just gimme that youthful vibes from bon voyage solo. like a fairy of the wilderness straight out of a storybook.

[shurisbathwater]

𝖥𝖤𝖤𝖫 𝖬𝖤 𝖨𝖨 . ☆

❝ 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂. ❞

Toxic!shuri x black fem! Reader

W a r n i n g s

smut

X t r a s

Filler again as I work on sum

T a g s :

@letitias-fav

-𝐘𝐎𝐔 called Shuri for the millionth time, just for no answer back. You knew she was seeing it all as she declined most of them. After you guys made up last time, she would only come home when once every two weeks or so. It was draining for you, but you also knew that she was getting her pleasure somewhere else though she claimed she ended it. You just missed your lover.

You knew that Shuri can be a compulsive liar even when she was in the wrong. You looked at the lunch you got for her sitting on the kitchen island. You pick it up and grab your car keys. You unlock your door and head to the parking garage.

"Griot, text shuri please." You commanded the ai. "Of course y/n." The robot replied.

You

I picked up some lunch, im otw

Shuri

No need

I'm not hungry

You

I'm already on the way

Shuri

Then turn around tf?

I dont need any distractions rn.

Yeah, she was definitely hiding something. What's going on? Instead of turning around, you continue to drive to the laboratory.

You turned up there in less than ten minutes. You open the car and ask Griot to lock it. It does what its told and you enter the big area.

You took the escalator up to her lab and walked up to the big glass doors. You open the door and look around for Shuri.

There she was, Shuri was at her desk probably writing a formula and something. "Hey." You take a seat at the other side of the desk.

She looks up from her paper and gives you a dirty look. "What did I tell you about coming at unwanted times?" She rolls her eyes as she said it. "I know but..I just missed you." You pouted. She sighs and her opens her mouth to reply- but before she could say anything her phone started ringing.

The contact name was 'Lab partner' . Shuri doesn't have a lab partner, she always likes to work independently. "You never told me about a lab partner?" You furrow your brows. "Dont worry about it." She says as she flips the phone over to its backside. "Pick up the phone? If its your lab partner." You look her dead in the eye.

"Pick up the phone shuri."

She looked away, irritated. "I said don't worry about it." She replies. "I'll be home early." She says , trying to change the subject .

"Mmh." You mumble as you get up from her seat. You leave the lunch on the table and make your way out of here.

Somethings up.

And you need to figure out what it is.

ᘛ ᘚ

-𝐘𝐎𝐔 watched your phone that was charging on the night stand, contemplating if you should just call or maybe she was being truthful. It was about to go to midnight, and yet you were up waiting for her. You put your hands in your lap for a second, until you realised you couldn't have self control this one time.

You called again.

And again.

You sigh out of frustration as you call one more time. Third times a charm, right? True- because she answered this time. "I thought you were coming home early." You speak into the phone.

"I am. Gimme like an hour." She grunts. "I cant take it baby." Someone moaned in the background. Your eyes widen as you decline the call out of shock and blink back tears. Here she was, lying to you again and again. But the funny thing is that she knows you'll come back every single time. You called Your friend Riri and she answered in less than a second.

"Do you mind if I come over, Riri?" Your voice cracks.

"Are you okay love? Of course you can come."

You get up from your bed and rushed out of your bedroom. You grabbed your car keys and headed out again.

Once you reached Riri's apartment, you knocked on the door softly. She answers the door quickly. You bite your lip as she looks at you with sad eyes. "Cmere." She puts her arm around you and walks you to the living room.

"And then she..she told me it was over and I actually believed her. I cant believe id let myself be so gullible, Riri." Your voice trembled. You put your head on her shoulder and she wraps her arm around you.

To be honest, you and Riri had a friends with benefits situation. You both wanted eachother but she respected you and Shuris relationship.

She looks at you with sad eyes.

"I'm going to do something i regret, but I dont care." Her brown eyes darken.

ᘛ ᘚ

"Shit, Riri." You breathed out as she gave you sloppy kisses on your jaw, all the way down to your collarbone. She opened your legs and started to rub the spot between your legs. You gasped out of pleasure."Please, Riri." You moaned. Suddenly your phone started to vibrate, and to your surprise it was Shuri.

"Answer." She commands as you grab your phone and answer.

"Where are you?" She asked. "I'm.." you bite your tongue to stiffle your moans. "What?" Riri starts to slip off your sweat pants slowly.

"I'll be home soon." You managed to get the sentence out.

A/n: ntm on the smut ik its ....Chile anyway hope u enjoyed!

[s0ulspen]

riri williams hcs

she loves reading, she’s always ready some psychology book and she always lets you lay in her arms while she’s reading. [she lights candles in her room while she reads too]

her garage is your second home, she lets you have your own little area and you always watch her work from there.

Scenario 1:

you sit next to her as you watch her work, holding a wrench in hand and waiting for her to command you to hand it over. She can’t see you since she’s beneath a car but you can definitely see her. Her toned arms and her abs peeking because her shirt is lifting up.

You glance at your little corner of the garage, there’s a little mini fridge, a small carpet with a bean bag on top.

“Gimme me the wrench, ma,” She orders and you do. But she pauses briefly as it disappears under the car along with her hand.

“Wrong size, baby,” She chuckles as she slides out and stands up.

Her arm secured around your waist and she kisses your shoulder.

“If you really wanna help me out, go sit there and look pretty f’me, I’ll see you on my break.” She says while watching you roll your eyes.

she’s always laying in a bean bag in the garage.

she loves herself an oversized suit but doesn’t really mind wearing a dress. [she owns so many sets of grills it’s insane]

she loves putting her thumbs in the dimple of your backs, and rubbing up on your thighs.

she loves watching criminal minds.

You always find her taking a bath when you walk into her dorm. Always. And she’s always scrolling through her phone.

when the two of you go to Chicago, she’s always in a white shirt and some overalls because she’s fixing cars for extra cash.

Walks around your or her dorm in baggy sweats with the band of her boxers showing and a sports bra at all times.

She’s a gym rat….I need to be put down

doesn’t matter of small or big you are, she can pick you up and doesn’t mind it either.

Her style is immaculate and consists of cargo pants, shorts paired with either tight shirts/ crop Tops or loose tops, whichever fits the weather. She always has the best shoes and buys you any pair you want.

She’s rather sleep than go out and when her friends ask her to hang out, she begs you to say y’all got plans.

She loves to lay her head on your thighs and lap. Or your chest, whichever you’re in the mood for.

She always massages you, whether it’s a simple rubbing of your thighs or her straddling your back while you watch your favorite show.

Scenario 2:

Riri’s hands work into your back as you continue to watch T.V. You can feel her eyes on the screen and you look back only to find her wide eyes glued to the screen. Her hands pause as she continues to watch and you ache for her to continue.

“Sorry, baby,” She grins.

She’s always driving you around, whether it’s five minutes away or five hours away.

When she plays her video games, she puts it down when you come in and pisses all her friends off because they’re mid-game.

“Yo, ri, man, c’mon, get the girl later! We’re close!” One of Riri’s friends groans over her headphones.

You had walked past her in shorts and she had grabbed you before you had a chance to get any further.

Now you’re straddling her and her hands are on your ass like there’s no tomorrow.

“Nah, the game can wait, I’ll come back tomorrow.” She says, cutting them off as she slides her headphones and tosses them God knows where while lifting you up.

She doesn’t like showers together, she’d much rather have a bath with you. But she won’t bathe till she showers.

She’s not a FaceTime girl because of how packed her schedule can be, she’s rather text than anything else. So when you miss her, you’ll have to settle for texting.

She’s made you your own gauntlet before and it shoots out bubbles because she don’t trust yo ass to actual firearms.

50 % of y’all’s hangouts are in her dorm room that’s basically yours because of how often you come by.

On your birthday, She rewrites your cards over and over because she’s not the best with putting how she feels on paper.

She’s all about grand gestures since she ain’t good with her words. She’ll take you to a field of flowers, a high-end restaurant, she’s done ridiculous shit like pull up yo your house with a boombox as an apology.

Her favorite show is insecure, idk I feel like she’d love that show.

She’s always telling you she loves you.

A/n: Ive been too drained to write a full length story for x reader and shuriri, please enjoy this in the mean time!

[pvnks0ul]

Mean!riri would definitely be the type to tease you till you're a crying mess(literally)

🚥: (18+) spanking, reader crying alot, really mean!riri obvi, wo-manhandling, (cunt),first time smut writing, and some that I probably missed sawry

Mean!riri hovering over you after positioning you to lay face down propped up on your knees. rubbing over the smooth skin that was showing under your lace panties before grieving you with a loud smack on your bottom.

Pushing your head flush into the pillow if you yelped because she didn't tell you that you could make sounds and then landing another one that stung much worst than the first, on the other cheek as discipline.

all you could do was bite your lip, quickly inhaling your squeal before it'd reach her ears and try not to move so much.

She'd knead the sore skin some more before pulling the panties down just to where the round of your ass ends, her eyes instantly catching onto the sight of slick sticking to each of your inner thighs.

Riri wanted so badly to lick some of that up, she could feel her clit jump as soon as the thought had popped into her head but she resisted solely because she knows how much you'd enjoy that and she doesn't want that right now, so instead she dips a single finger between your lips just long enough to bring up some of your slick until you breathed a little too hard, coming out as a raspy whimper

She tsks and roughly pushes you so that you're completely down with your stomach to the bed before flipping you over, her pointer finger still shiny from your juices. You no longer held back your tears as you stared back up at her through your now curly lashes.

She gripped your face, puffin your cheeks out before shoving her finger in, you welcome it with a small squeak, slowly circling your tongue around the long digit, riri shifts in her boxers letting a grunt fall from her, "you're so fucking nasty, baby."

You moan and let go of her fingers with a disgustingly loud pop, a pathetic little pout settling on your lips at her slight degrading, "I'm sorry."

She could only scoff at your response because the both of you knew you were not and would definitely do it again on command.

mean!riri who leans down to finally connect her plump lips with your softer ones and moaning into the kiss when she gets a taste of you even better when it's on your own lips. Your hands make quick work of grabbing the sides of her face and the back of her head, trying to bring her in closer because you just can't get enough, she'd give you a warning to calm down and if you don't she slaps your thigh telling you to shut up when you let out a screech from the pain, before releasing your lips with a single peck and moving her calloused hands up some more.

Riri teasingly circled the outside of your lips blindsiding you when she hikes your knees up till they hit your bare chest, moving your beyond damp panties to the side, so sh could peak at your leaking cunt

rubbing her palm over your clothed mound so it would hit your clit indirectly and you couldn't get off on it, laughing tauntingly whenever you tried to grab her long fingers and slip them under the band of your underwear, not giving in at all and removing them right away.

And if you whine she'd definitely mock you, something about how if you really wanted her to take care of you then you would be begging instead of crying because, "good girls dont cry 'til they get their way, they work for it." she spat at you with venom, your very last warning to straighten up

Mean!riri who really doesn't even give a fuck if you beg cause she'll taunt you even worse for those too, "you keep saying you want me to touch you, baby but, you not saying where.." she sighs and moves your coils out of your sweaty face, finally peering down with a deeply sad facade, "I won't know if you're really committed to this if you can't do that f'me, mama." she said while shaking her head and looking away like she was willing to stop if you didn't start singing her favorite song.

mean!riri who mutters out a quiet, "fuck it" to herself when she's finally ready to give in and fulfill your wishes, her ego hiking multiple altitudes when you spread your legs without her saying so much as a word to you now, all she had to do was slide your panties all the way off, giving your ankle a little kiss before laying down on her belly and rubbing your thighs, kissing down to your open split, blowing cool air onto your puffy clit which caused you to let out a loud mewl of disapproval "fu-uck please riri" You managed to slur out.

Riri smirked up at you, "mmm...how bad do you want me, baby?" she licked her lips trappin the bottom one inside.

"I want you so so bad, ri baby please-" you sounded surprisingly more desperate than you looked- and you looked like an absolute mess, edges flying up like they were a space x project, lip liner smudged, face stained with ruined mascara from the countless tears cascading down your cheeks due to her relentless teasing, you were such a mess, but to riri you were a pretty mess.

She had you right where she wanted you.

Riri cooed at you before bringing your wet cunt closer to her by pulling the front of your legs, "Of course, mama." She practically growls.

"You know, I'mma take care of you, baby."

Running away now- biiiiiiii

[riris-dock]

1, 3, 5, and 7 for your Punishing Gray Raven s/i :3

Floyd hello!!! Thank you for the ask Im gonna kiskis you now

Give us a quick run down of your s/i!!

Ik I'm not very updated on current PGR lore but who give a dam I do what I want!! Originally born in the arctic, first lived with the Arctic Union but left because she wanted to join Babylonia. Spent her teenage years shooting down Babylonia ships until they let her up and into their Commandant training program, one year behind Chrome. They don't become friends until after Chrome is turned into a construct tho but yk </3 Graduates, becomes commandant for Gray Raven squad, meets Kamui and Chrome through their cooperation, eventually meets Camu when he joins the squad, the yoinkies r in love now

3. where does your s/i live? Do they aspire to move or are they content with where they are?

Currently lives in the Babylonia space station's commandant quarters, along with her squad. She's fighting for earth and really wants to go back to living in the arctic, alongside the people she cares for. I'd imagine she wants a quaint little hut by the ocean where they can fish :)

5. what is your s/i's profession? Commandant of Gray Raven reporting for duty! Backup sniper when needed, though when she was a kid she dreamt of being a farmer

7. if your s/i was an animal, what would they be?

I want to say literally any of my favorite animals... a kity, a peacock... Most fitting poetically would be a raven though, I think. Any bird, since she wants herself and other people to be free

[desswright29]

A/N: I know y’all really wanted this one but my urge to write has died down. And I had this written out for so long but decided to start it over because someone released a story that sounded similar to what I had and I didn’t want nobody saying I was biting they shit. So it’s not a lot but this was the direction this was going.

Stalker Shuri / Plus sized reader

Oh. Hello. What brings you onto my yacht today, Sthandwa? Wine in hand. Sauvignon Blanc, I heard you order it at the bar. You’re an alpha woman, I’m sure. Look at the way you command the room. Sexy. Cultivated. Refined. Well coifed. How do you get your bun so perfectly slick? I almost didn’t like it. Almost made me peg you as uptight. But the few loose tendrils gave you away. I see you, Entle. Bold choice of clothing for this particular party. Once again almost appropriate. Floor length, button up. But I’ll be damned if there’s not only four of the center buttons fastened. Mmm. You are a Teeaaase. Daring. Breast, So large, moisturized. I can almost taste them. I bet they taste like caramel. Pretty toes, thick  calves looking scrumptious wrapped in side of those strappy stilettos.

  My God! Look at how thick that thigh is, poking it out of the slit of that dress. Is all that for me sthandwa? Myyyy myyy my, look at that robust backside! Sitting out, even underneath all of that fabric! Look at that shit jiggle and sway. Mm mm mm.

“Bro! Did you just moan!” Riri’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Wha-“ 

“You just moaned aloud while you were drooling over baby girl over there.” Riri laughed nodding her head towards the woman I’d been ogoling. Shit, was I that obvious. This one’s got me slipping. I ignore Riri rolling my eyes waving off her comment with my hand laced in the finest of jewels. I wonder if she knows who I am. Haha. Of course she does. I’m.. me.

“Bro you got it bad.” Riri shook her obnoxious little head. 

“I’m not concerned with anyone here in that way.” 

“Oh yea? Well the drool on your chin says other wise. You got a lil something…” Riri wiped at the corner of her own mouth, showing me where to wipe. I follow her lead rushing to wipe at both corners of my mouth. Of course nothing was there, sending Riri into another fit of laughter. She’s so beautiful. So much potential wasted on being annoying as fuck. 

“They don’t make ‘em like that in Wakanda huh?” Bringing her Moët to her lips. Well she was right about that.

No. No they didn’t. They didn’t make them like you much of anywhere. 

[neptoons1998]

Study Date

A/N: I made some smut cause I want to feed y'all.

MINORS DNI

Tag Gang: @s0lam33y @mal-urameshi @xchoxix

Summary: Shuri came to visit Riri to help her "study" for her chem test this friday.

“Fuck~!” Riri cried out as she felt the strap going inside her. How did Riri let Shuri fuck her? Riri had no idea. Shuri was supposed to help her with studying with her chem test she was going to have friday. All Riri knew Shuri was using one the straps that made her full. At this rate, Shuri is trying to get her pregnant. 

“You’re so cute when you’re beneath me, my love,” she whispers as she leans over to plant kisses along Riri’s collarbone. She whines almost pathetically as she does so poorly trying to start moving. Shuri couldn’t help herself but smirk at her love. Little does she know she is everything to me, Shuri thought as the woman giggled. 

Riri’s face shined with sweat, her pupils swallowed her iris- only leaving a thin ring of brown. Riri gritted her teeth as she tried her best position to entice Shuri into giving. 

Oh, She thought she was telling what Shuri to do? How adorable.  

“No moving,” Shuri commands. “I never said you could, did I?”

Riri whimpers in response as she grabs her wrists and pins them above her head. 

“Don’t make change my mind on not tying you up,” Shuri said causing Riri to whimper out again. “No that would be too mean of me, wouldn’t it be my love? But you looking desperate is so-” Shuri licked her lips, “Beautiful. No one besides me gets to see you like this.” Shuri moves to where her lips are right beside Riri’s ear, “I want you to be desperate until you know nothing but my name.”

 “ P-please~!” Riri begs.

Shuri smirked as she looked at her love. Riri pleads like a worshipper to their goddess. All because she wanted to be fucked. She’s never leaving my side Shuri thought. 

“Okay, my love. I'll go harder,” Shuri complies, her hips withdrawing and then snapping so quickly and forcefully that her partner lets out a loud moan.

 “You’re being too loud my love,” Shuri ordered, “ You don’t want your classmates to know how much of a slut you are.” 

“N-no,” Riri commented as she tried to clamp down her voice. Shuri was about to tease her girlfriend until she remembered something. 

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot,” she says as she slows her thrusting, careful to not let Riri have the taste of her orgasm just yet. 

Not now. 

“Mm?” Riri responds, her mind half was gone at this point.

“You have your final exams on Friday, don’t you?” She questions rhetorically. Shuri already knew the answer. Shuri remeber Riri complaining about it last week, not wanting to take the test.  

Shuri lightly twists and pulls Riri’s clit. The strap is still inside her love, “Aww, you don’t have to answer, my love,” she coos. “Of course, you do. And I know you’ll get an A+, my scholar.”

Riri’s eyes blurred no thoughts between her eyes. Drooling slightly but not strong enough to give Shuri a response.  

“Please- S-shuri,” Riri begged as she wrapped her legs around Shuri’s waist. Shuri couldn’t say no after all a good queen is only good for her people. 

“You’re going to cum untouched,” Shuri directed Riri as she continued to snap her hips back. Riri wasn’t able to keep up as she continued to moan and pant against Shuri’s pace.

“Ah,” Riri cries into the sheets as lightning shocks through her. Shuri slipped out of her as Riri stilling the aftershock of her intense orgasm. Shuri took off the strap and went into the bathroom to help clean up her love.  Riri laid on her side as Shuri took care of her. She could feel herself slowly drifting off to sleep. Riri was trying to stay awake.

Shuri slipped a bonnet on Riri’s head, “Go to sleep my love.”

“But I wanna to be with you,” Riri mumbled out. Shuri softly shushed her girlfriend. Shuri knew the distance was hard for the both of them, but they would be together again soon this summer. 

“I’ll be here,” Shuri said as she kiss her forehead. 

[saintwrld]

All the stars ✩

shuri x black fem! reader

summary: in which you discover your true identity with the help of Bast herself

words: 2.7k+

translations: ewe, sthandwa - yes,love.

warnings: lil angsty, fluff, supernatural stuff, t’challa is mentioned

taglist: @pinkwright @locoforshuri @axailslink @cuddl3s4shur1 @ventingfanfics @verachii @inmyheadimobsessed @generallysapphic @shuriszn @shuris-whore @thevenusianleo @zayswriting @haechvn @yvxmpire @fentibeauty

lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!! <3

a/n: it took me two hours and multiple repeats of ‘lift me up’ to write this 🥹

༺♡༻

Another terrible pain struck through your chest, much worse than the one hours prior. Holding your chest and slowly moving towards the side of the bed to sit down, you breathe slowly to ease the discomfort.

After giving yourself time to relax your chest, you grabbed your phone to search what was actually going on with you. You knew that the search engine would highly say death or another illness to be the cause of your pain but your body feels the same after each pain.

A knock on your door interrupted your train of thought and you tapped your kimoyo beads, far too much in pain to stand and opened the door yourself. Riri stepped in with a concerned look on her face, treading lightly towards you.

"Hey girl. Nakia's been looking for you, it's almost time for the meeting." She softly smiled. Riri had met you on the tour she took of the palace with Nakia when she first arrived. She thought you and Shuri were even married but you explained how you were just close friends and looked out for her after her brother made you promise.

"Are the tribe leaders here already?" You asked and Riri nodded, you also nodded and stood up slowly. Your vision turned white for a quick moment before going back to normal, blinking your eyes as if something went into them. Riri would see you double over in pain almost everywhere in the palace but not knowing how to approach the situation, especially when the war with Namor is close.

You lifted your head to weakly smile at her and fixed your stance to pretend as if nothing was wrong with you. "Let's go. We don't want to keep anyone waiting, especially if it's about us." You said, reaching your door and opening it, allowing Riri to walk out first.

༺♡༻

The ringing in your ear had become louder as you tried to listen to what the Queen was saying and what the tribal leaders were suggesting. The River Tribe leader, Zawe, had kept her eyes on you since you had stepped foot in the throne room. She noticed your body swaying and you constantly trying to keep yourself still. Shuri had her eye on you too, seeing you clench your fist repeatedly but thought nothing of it, just you being anxious.

As the Mining Tribe leader finished their statement, the unknown pain struck you again, going from your chest to your head. Your vision going completely white and the room went silent. It was as if your soul completely left your body and you were floating in space with purple and blue hues. On the outside, you let out an ear piercing scream, dropping down to the floor and immediately alarming everyone in the throne room.

Your eyes had turned white and the veins on your body showed and they were a bright purple, almost giving out light. You were shaking and your skin was getting a little pale. Shuri, as horrified as she was, immediately ran to you and helped Riri pick you up and give you to the Dora Milaje, waiting for their command from Queen Ramonda.

Before the queen could say anything, Zawe spoke up. "We need to get her the heart shaped herb. The myth of Bast is coming true." The last few words had brought chills to the other leaders in attendance, including M'baku himself.

The myth of Bast was, like its namesake, a myth that had been around for centuries but was never told to the younger generations by the order of King T'Chaka before his reign, to not have the youth believe in it. Your mother had briefly told you about it and how Wakandans had hope for Bast's return to the great nation.

The myth implied that the spirit of Bast would enter one's body and reveal themselves to be the Panther Goddess, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. The person would experience pain that scientists wouldn't dare research during transformation and gain powers that could make them rule the world if wanted. However, he who told this myth centuries ago had disappeared shortly after.

Until now, not a single soul in Wakanda has spoken about it nor heard anything about it. Until now.

“How? We have no herbs left!” Someone exclaimed from behind Shuri. As if gears had begun spinning in her head, she remembered your private garden that held the desired herb for whenever Shuri could possibly need it. She had given you prototypes to plant as a way to test on whether they’re effective or not.

“Someone needs to go to her room.” Shuri muttered to herself, gaining the attention of Riri who was watching you be placed on the floating gurney, twitching and crying out and it truly pained the pair to see you like that.

“Her room? The hell would she need there?” Riri questioned, a confused expression held on her features. “She’s got a few prototypes of the heart shaped herb planted in her private garden. I’m going to need you to get it and immediately bring it to the lab-”

Shuri was cut off by you screaming once again then moving your mouth with no sound coming out. “Take me to the garden of the herb. Now.” You demanded in a strained voice. Shuri wasn’t usually someone who could easily be scared however she knew that the voice you spoke in wasn’t yours but a completely different one. It seemed to have scared everyone around you.

Riri looked at you stunned and trudged her way to your room quickly, not wanting to witness anything else. Shuri looked back at her mom who nodded and walked to stand next to you. “Let’s go. I can’t bare to see her in pain.” Queen Ramonda instructed. Okoye, Ayo and Nakia were walking next to your gurney as they made their way out the palace. The remaining royals were escorted to the Royal Talon and Riri would be accompanied by Aneka, who was waiting for her by your bedroom door.

༺♡༻

The cave of the garden held an eerie atmosphere as you entered and everyone who escorted you felt a specific feeling that they couldn’t quite pinpoint but fear was laced into it.

You had calmed down however your glowing veins were still visible and seemed to glow brighter the deeper you were in the cave. You stopped before the stone gazebo which also had the sand pit. Okoye, Nakia and Ayo placed your body on the sand, looking at Riri as she rushed to kneel next to your body. Shuri and Queen Ramonda followed Riri and placed themselves next to you.

Ramonda held the liquid above you, chanting to Bast to communicate with you in the ancestral plane and to remove your pain. As you drank the liquid, the deeper your soul traveled to meet the Panther Goddess. All the ladies beside you quickly buried you in the sand, silently hoping that you come back well.

the ancestral plane

You opened your eyes gently to see pink and blue versions of the northern lights and multiple stars literring the sky. You slowly sat up, looking around noticing the trees where panthers rested. You noticed you was in one of the private gardens of the Great Mound, where Shuri’s main lab was, your place of comfort.

One panther in particular, climbed down the tree and stood in front of you. The realisation of you actually being in the ancestral plane hit hard as you started to breathe faster. The panther transformed in front of you, revealing itself to be T’Challa, smiling at you ever so softly.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you looked at him. He had on the royal colours, purple and gold, in a suit with tribal designs. He looked happier than when you had last been in his presence, no longer suffering from the unknown illness. Before he could even speak, you walked up to him and tightly hugged him. It had been way too long since you had last hugged him.

He had said your name and you looked up at him, detaching from the hug. “I want to thank you. You have lifted Shuri up, keeping your end of the bargain.” He grimaced, making the tears on your face fall gracefully.

“Did you keep yours?” You asked, smiling and sniffling. He looked to the side and smiled. “I do look better, don’t I?” T’Challa joked, make you slightly chuckle.

“T’Challa. Why am I here? If anyone should be seeing you, it’s your sister. She needs to be in your presence.” You muttered. “I’m always with her, she just doesn’t want to believe it. You are doing an excellent job at caring for her just as I would. I’m incredibly proud of you.” Hearing those words come from him caused your tears to fall at a fast pace.

“You see now? I barely cry in front of others.” You smiled as you wiped your tears with your wrist. T’Challa smacked his lips and chuckled. “Crying is for the strongest of people. Always remember that.”

He hugged you again, you smelling his signature scent of mango and coconut with a hint of his everyday cologne. “Now, onto your journey here. It was not me who had requested your presence in the ancestral plane, as good it is to see my family here. She will be here soon.” He stated.

“She? Who is she?” You questioned, looking behind him after his sentence.

“You’ll see, she likes to have special entrances whenever she comes around. I do have to go now. Please tell my family that I love them with everything in me.” He requested and you nodded, going for one last hug, this one lasting a little longer.

“Two things before she arrives. Tell Nakia I love seeing her happy and also tell Shuri everything you want her to hear. She’ll listen. Goodbye, y/n.” Before you could even respond to his requests, he transformed back into his panther state and returned to the tree he came from.

Rumbling came from behind you and your instincts told you to look behind you, revealing a much larger panther than the rest with fur that had streaks of purple adorning it. The eyes of the panther were trained on yours, slowly but surely giving you the creeps.

Just as T’Challa, this panther transformed to a woman. A beautiful woman who fit the description of a goddess. The atmosphere around her had shifted to that of regalia. Her skin was a beautiful shade of dark brown with a body that one would kill for. Her facial features were quite young looking as she displayed her dimples and pearly whites. As she walked closer to you, her dark purple eyes remained the same shade as her pantheress form. Her outfit had thrown you off completely, it resembling a Mugler bodysuit that you had recently bought from Paris. Her hair was in a large afro with a purple halo around her head. Her height was that of Shuri’s, both women taller than you.

It clicked to you that you were in the presence of an actual goddess.

The woman stood in front of you was Bast herself.

“Holy shit.” Your mouth had spoken before you could register a sentence in your brain. You had no idea what to do. This was a deity you and your entire country had loved and worshipped for centuries. This was who you placed your manifestations and dreams to. This was who you put your entire trust in. Your whole heart. This beautiful woman who stood before you was arguably the most powerful being in the universe.

“Dearest y/n. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you. I’ve admired your walk of life and how you have carried yourself. You are truly a gem to Wakanda.” She began slowly and her comments sent heat through your entire body.

“Bast..” you whispered. She gently smiled at you. “Ewe, sthandwa.” She replied.

“I know you have your many questions and I’m here to answer however you do have to get back. They’re all waiting for you.” She added.

“Why me? Do I have any significance here?” You asked. “Ah yes! You, my dearest angel, are a true descendant of me. When you were born, you were considered special. You had an aura around you that couldn’t be pinpointed. I chose you for a reason.” The goddess expressed.

“Descendant?” You said stunned, essentially brushing of everything else she said.

“Yes!” She cheered. “Just as my dear Wakandans have theorised, there’s a descendant of mine walking amongst them. Y/n, you have inherited my powers to help others and to protect Wakanda alongside the Black Panther.” She explained.

Before you could even ask about the powers, she continued. “I do apologise for the painful process of gaining your powers but it was the only way. For now, it is your duty to protect Wakanda alongside Shuri. I will guide you through it all through your dreams.”

“Does that mean that..I’m a goddess?” You hesitated and Bast nodded. “In the ancestral plane and the eternal realm, you will be known as Bahati, to give you individuality amongst the others. You are now the most powerful being in the universe alongside the most powerful person in the world.”

As you’re processing everything, certain words had caught you off guard. “Your… majesty, you had mentioned the Black Panther. We don’t have that in the real world.” You mentioned making her smile.

“Oh, just you wait, y/n. The Queen has made lovely progress already as we can already see the future.” She added with a smile, making you more confused than you already are.

“Wait-”

“And do tell the girl your true feelings, we need entertainment around here.” She winked at you and you felt yourself being pulled backwards.

You gasped loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in the cave who was watching you float in mid air. You closed your eyes and saw Bast again.

“Show them who you are.”

You opened them again and you were gently let down on the floor. Looking at everyone around you with shocked faces. The first one to break their facade was Shuri, immediately lunging forward to hug you as if you left forever.

“How long was I gone for?” You whispered in a hoarse voice due to the excessive screaming from before.

“20 minutes, plus minus. You scared me, y/n. I was starting to think that you weren’t coming back. I wouldn’t have anyone to call my best friend-”

“Shuri, I saw him.” You looked at her softly, causing her to pause and look into your eyes.

“Y/n.” Queen Ramonda started.

“He loves you all very much, with everything in him. Shuri, he’s incredibly proud of you.” You smiled, watching Shuri release small tears along with Ramonda and Nakia who appeared in front of you.

“Are you okay though? Seeing you floating and shit was scary.” Riri asked, making you to turn to her and she gasped loudly. “What?” You looked at her confused as she gazed into your eyes as if she was studying them.

“Your eyes…they’re purple.” Nakia pointed out. You couldn’t react, knowing you couldn’t see yourself. Shuri realised your new eye colour and gasped when it went back to your normal eye colour.

“Is it bad timing to ask Griot anything?” Shuri asked and you shook your head, non-verbally giving your permission.

“Griot. please check Y/n’s vitals and database.” She called out to the AI on her kimoyo bracelet, a large screen projecting itself with your hologram on it.

“Of course, Princess. Y/n l/n is a 19 year old black Wakanda female originating from the River Tribe. Her most recent database update includes an influx of supernatural abilities in her blood, it reading that it is the powers of the Panther Goddess, Bast herself. As of 20 minutes, Y/n’s database now includes Goddess status. In the eternal realm of all powerful beings, she is known as Bahati, Bast’s descendant.” Griot finishes, causing the cave to go silent.

Everyone looked at you with faces of shock and confusion.

“Holy shit.” Shuri quietly cussed, her mom gently hitting her arm.

“Shuri!” Ramonda whisper-yelled.

༺♡༻

I absolutely lovedddd writing this! There will be a part two where she explores her powers and finally express her feelings to Shuri ikdr 🤭

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Namor Imagine Series Part 4

Your first day in Talokan could've went better. Namor revealed that you would be staying in the underwater cave. Where he initially kept Shuri and Riri prisoner, but the cave had been changed around to make it more homey. He wanted to ease into this new lifestyle and knew asking you to be in the underwater city capital would be too much. So for now you would call the cave system home which wasn't too bad.

It was when he was giving you a tour of the cave system showing you. Where his main space was located things took a turn for the worst. One of the generals walked into the room with a spear in hand. It was the woman you recognized as Namora. She took one look at you and spoke in their mother tongue to Namor.

He gestured for you to wait by the wall with the painting of his history on it. While he went off to the side to talk to his general. Without access to your kimoyo beads or Groi. There was no way for you to understand what their were saying. But the tones of their voices gave the topic of the conservation away. Namora sounded frustrated and would shoot you a menacing look every now and then. Namor sounded like he was doing his best to keep his cool, but you could see the muscles in his back tensing up. He was starting to lose his patience with her. The intense discussion went on for about five minutes before Namor finally snapped.

"She is your queen now you will give her the same respect. You give me" he roared angrily.

You flinched at the not only the volume of his voice, but the emotional intensity of his words as well. The only time you ever heard him sound so angry was when he invaded Wakanda, and while Namora was able to keep a straight face. You could see the hurt in her eyes. She felt betrayed.

Her beloved king who she has served for God knows how long just brought an outsider into her home. A man she trusted with her life just choose you. A woman of another nation that was just their enemy a few days ago over her. You made your way over to them placing a hand on Namor's shoulder.

"Namor can we talk for a quick second?" You asked him.

Namor didn't even bother to acknowledge you his eyes boring into his general's. As he waited for her to look away and back down. You could see Namora know had balled her hands into fists, and was doing her best not to tremble. This wasn't going to end well.

So you tried another tactic hoping it would work. You moved your body between them, and took his face in your hands with a firm grip. "My love I need to speak to you alone." It wasn't a request this time. Maybe it was the fact you used the same name of endearment that he used for you, or maybe it was the sharpness of your voice. Either way this time you got his attention as his eyes glanced down to meet yours. "Send her away please."

Namor gave her a quick command without hesitation. Namora turned and stalked out of the cave. The second she was gone you pulled away from him. "What was that?"

"I will not allow her or anyone else to disrespect you" Namor said. In his eyes did nothing wrong, but in yours he had done everything wrong.

"Namor you might be able to prance around Talokan with me on your hip, and declare that I'm the queen of your people. Without the civilians or the children putting up a fight or questioning things. But your army is a whole other story. There very job is to cautious of outsiders like me especially considering. They helped you lead an attack on my people just a few days ago. It's going to take time for me to win them over." You explained to him.

Namor took in every single one of your words, and gave you a nod. "Then what shall I do?

"Just let it happen naturally like this marriage remember. How you said we can learn to love each other."

"Yes."

"Well Namora and the others will learn to trust me you just have to give it time. I want this to work Namor and be as real as possible."

"I want the same thing" He said.

"Good so you're okay with holding off on the actual marriage part for now?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Namor frowned as the gears in his head started turning. "Are you trying to back out?" His voice got dangerously low.

You held eye contact with him not missing a beat when you answered. "No I wouldn't be here if I was going to do that. I will stay here and get to know you, your people, your way of life, and one day I will love Talokan as much as I love Wakanda. One day I will be willing to lay down my life for this place, and that will be the day we marry. I know you just wanted an alliance between our two nations, but you said it could be more. I want that Namor don't you."

Namor regarded you for a few seconds not giving away anything, and honestly he had you worried for a second. That he was going to laugh in your face and set the date of marriage for tomorrow. But then he let out a soft sigh. "It might take power to earn a throne, but the trust of your people is required to rule a nation."

"Is that your way of saying yes" You replied.

"Yes my queen I will give this time" He confirmed.

"Good thing I'm going to need you to do something for me then. While I'm down here earning the trust and love of your people."

His eyebrows furrowed in question as to what else you could want, but nevertheless Namor gestured for you to continue.

You knew he wasn't going to like what you were about to say, but you had to try at least. Your peace of mind depended on it.

"I need you to make peace with my mother."

[asksythe]

Commed. Artist: Duckie Beam

I want to write a post-FGO dark romance Oberon/Ritsuka story featuring Single-Dad!Oberon and Dead-Mom!Ritsuka.

It's my third attempt at writing a dark romance story, with different interpretations of dark and the characters themselves. Out of the three attempts so far, this one seems to have excited @erimies the most. I get why. It's my most poetic so far.

I have given it a name...

Apple, Apple in the Skies

The story is styled around gothic fairy tales and dark nursery rhymes, in which Oberon effectively becomes a single dad to a flock of terrorist children, all of whom remind him of the woman he loves, who hurt him beyond anything he has ever known in his thousands of years of existence. The children are feral little gremlins born of Riri's flesh and Oberon's heart.

The plot goes something like this:

Ritsuka Fujimaru's journey ends. The world is saved and humanity is secured, but she herself dies. She dies not in battles but at the hands of the very mages she saved, who go after her to make her a subject to study and harvest.

Oberon watches it all go down, watches Ritsuka being butchered by the people she fought for. And there's not a thing he can do about it.

Centuries pass. Humanity is now stagnating, trying to break into the Age of Wills and failing. Some secret components are missing.

The mages of the future believe the key to their ascension lies with the Last Master of Humanity. Examining the impossible miracles she performed and her extraordinary link with the heroic spirits, they believe she accidentally and unknowingly created a doorway between flesh and blood humans and ether-liner existences (ala Age of Wills humans).

If only they had the still-living specimen to experiment with! But alas! The foolish, wasteful, and shortsighted mages of the past already wasted such prime research materials! They cut her up into pieces and used her body as reagents for frivolous projects. And when those projects failed, they paraded her body around as trophies. A lock of hair here. An eyeball there, pickled in primordial juice. The hand with the command codes still in tact. Pieces of skin and teeth and some pulled nails with the crusted blood still stuck to them.

The petty king of some nation boasts of having her entire preserved spleen as house decor. What wasteful, gross misconduct as magi researchers!! Now their descendants have no more of the prime original materials to work with.

But needs must. So several wars break out in order for different groups to claim the remains of Riri's preserved body.

They start experimenting with these parts. One group has a success, using the hand with the command codes, they create a genetic clone of Riri, and then use this clone as catalyst in a summoning ritual, hoping to call forth a rare extra class servant.

Oberon answers the call, and, of course, promptly massacres all the mages and steals the cloned child away. In no time at all, Oberon susses out the existence of other research cells carrying out their own attempts at cloning the original Last Master. He goes after them, hitting them guerilla style and stealing any successful clones they manage to create.

The story is propelled forward by Oberon's desperate drive to free all the little morsels of Riri and the human's efforts to corner him. The mages are fascinated with Oberon's devotion to Ritsuka even after her death and the cessation of their contract.

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I want to examine the layers of Oberon in this scenario. He's such a fascinating and complex character. I just can't help but want to play with such a well-written and designed character. I want to see how far he will stretch and bend, see if I can break and remold him and make it convincing somehow! Ergo... why this story idea goes to such dark places.

I want to explore the trauma of having to see the one existence he loves be butchered and he himself is completely helpless, incapable of doing a single thing. Then I want to explore the whorls of his warped feelings upon hearing that impossible, familiar call all the way in the Throne of Heroes, and then rushing to answer that call only to see the flesh of the woman he loves be used to make a walking, talking facsimile of her.

How does he feel when he looks upon the cloned child bearing her eyes and her face and her hand upon which the command codes are emblazoned? What does he think when he decides to steal the child away with him into the night?

It's Ritsuka but it's not Ritsuka. It's some child who is the physical manifestation of Ritsuka's violation at the hands of the mages. But this child will grow up to look exactly like Ritsuka, and maybe one day she will look at Oberon exactly like Ritsuka did centuries ago when he first fell into this horrifying, inescapable abyss called love.

His feelings for Ritsuka would be warped too, because how can it not in the face of Oberon's suffering over the centuries after her passing? He loves her but he doesn't trust her. Because she has shown before that she can't be trusted with her own safety.

He loves her. He wants her to be happy. He doesn't trust her. He can't let her leave. He clips her wings and tells her to stay forever. Oberon as a character should be aware of his own misplaced, warped feelings. He's too internally conscious not to. But being conscious doesn't mean he can do anything about it. Like how he was in LB6, laughing at himself in the end.

Once more, Oberon chases after an ephemeral dream forever out of his reach. She is gone, and they will never meet. He doesn't even get to hold her and take her into the abyss with him in her final moment like he said he would. All of that repressed yearning and how did it end up? He's once more stuck in hell of a different kind.

My plan is that eventually, Oberon resolves to treat the clones as Ritsuka's children. He tries to teach the cloned children what he believes the original Riri should have known. He teaches them to fight, to survive, to run away, to scheme and deceive, to be ruthless. He believes this is what Riri should have done to avoid her grisly fate, but even when he talks of her in his barbed way to the children who never know her, slivers of the woman he loves come through.

The Riri clones all possess the ability to see right through Oberon, just like the original Riri.

The story becomes Sad single-dad Oberon rearing a flock of feral children as they go about terrorizing the mages and detonating all of their research facilities, stealing away more clones and any morsels of the original Riri's body.

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The ending is fairly straightforward. Oberon is cornered by the mages. At the end of the day, a masterless servant against the totality of the mage's resources is not a fair fight. Oberon makes a production out of his own death, a fitting exit for a Fairy King / Terminal Device. But in doing so, he makes sure his flock is grown and strong and escapes the mage's eyes after the final battle.

The children take his lesson to heart. They lie. They scheme. They deceive. They are ruthless just as he wants them to. And they survive just like he wants them to. They disguise themselves and slip into the great mass of humanity. They infiltrate human governance and magi high society. They avenge their fallen father and mother.

Yep, the clones are children of Ritsuka's flesh and Oberon's heart. Imagine a flock of feral gremlins with Ritsuka's determination and insight into human hearts but with Oberon's social savvy, ruthlessness, and sheer brain power. Now imagine them all on a roaring rampage of revenge for their father and mother. Not only will they slaughter all the mages and anyone having to do with their parent's death, they will suborn the mage's great project itself.

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The finale of the story is the scene where all the now grown-up children come together to witness the pinnacle of their achievement. Having suborned the mage's dream to propel humans toward the age of wills, they carry it out in a way they think their mother would have liked.

More than that, using their combined knowledge and the magi tech after centuries of mesing around with servant summoning and splicing human genes, they find the heroic spirit Ritsuka Fujimaru and create an interlock binding between her and the terminal device Oberon Vortigern.

No good children want to see their parents separated in such a tragedy, don't they? So of course, after avenging them, the children would make it a goal to reunite mother and father.

The children are clones of Riri, but they are not Riri. They each hold a piece of her, so they instinctively know what she would have liked and the guilt she bears, knowing what happens to Oberon once she passes away. It is a regret so strong it persists even after she dies.

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I have 2 endings in mind:

Ending 1: the sad ending. Oberon gets his wish of 'dying together' with Ritsuka as their saint graphs are merged into one.

Ending 2: the earn your happy ending. the children incarnate Oberon and Ritsuka into 'new age-of-will human' bodies. They have a second chance at life, growing up together. Final scene of this ending would b tiny Oberon and tiny Ritsuka playing in an orchard in space and falling asleep underneath the shade of an apple tree. This is Erimies' preferred ending!

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Some lines from reborn Oberon's perspective in the second ending.

"I want to pull your pigtails and push you on the swing, laugh at you for being clumsy, and skinning your knees while patching you up. What a crybaby you are, never leave me again."

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I also wrote nursery rhymes for this story!

Apple, apple on the tree,

Whisper secrets, dark and free.

Shadows dance in moonlit night.

Lonely branches weep for thee.

Beneath the branches, children play.

In the orchard, lost their way.

Apple, apple on the tree.

Hold our childhood's reverie.

Leaves have fallen, seasons passed,

Memories of joy don't last.

Apple, apple in the skies,

Silent witness to goodbyes.

Ah, still pretty rough. They need polishing for sure. But I like some verses and how they sound.

If I ever get around to writing this, I would like to commission an HTML skin for AO3 so that readers will read the story like they are reading the pages of an old fairy tale book.

Something like this, probably.

[shurisbathwater]

𝖥𝖤𝖤𝖫 𝖬𝖤 𝖨𝖨𝖨. ✫

*last part*

Toxic!shuri x black fem! reader

❝ 𝖨 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾.❞

w a r n i n g s

None really, js alot of arguing and shuri being crazy lmao.

X t r a s

I decided to make it a good ending 😛 this is the last part so don't ask for more 🙄

T a g s

@ziayamikaelson @letitias-fav @honey-teaaaaaaaa @mxyx-rx444

-𝐘𝐎𝐔 tiptoed into the house slowly. It was pitch black so you had assumed Shuri went to bed and just gave up. It was about 4am in the morning anyway. Surprisingly, that experience with Riri was..the best you've ever felt in a while.

Even after, she took care of you instead of just putting her pants on and leaving like some people did. You switched the lights on to see Shuri sitting on the couch, manspread with a drink in her hand. You jumped at her. Maybe giving her the key to your apartment wasn't the best idea.

"You scared me! Damn."

"Where were you?" Her grills shone as she spoke. "Iut." You grumbled as you kicked your shoes off. "You think you funny? Is that what it is?" She chuckled lightly as she glanced at your neck, full of hickeys.You ignore her and try to walk past, but she gets up and stands in your way.

She towers over you and looks you in the eye. "I said..where were you?" she says, the smell of her whiskey hitting your nose. You look away and glance at something behind her.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you mama." She licked her lips as she said it. She grabs your chin to make you look up at her. You stare up at her, not saying a word.

"Answer the question."

You bat your lashes, no response present.She lets go of your chin and clenches her jaw. "I guess we're equal now." You shrug your shoulders casually.

"You know it didn't mean anything."

"Yet you saw her...a couple hours ago?"

"Stop dragging it." She scoffs.

"Oh please, fyck you."

"Somebody else clearly did." She mutters. You roll your eyes as you push past her, heading to your bedroom. You put your phone on the bed in the bedroom and head into your en suite bathroom.

ᘛ ᘚ

After showering, you expected Shuri to be gone home, but yet you heard her walking around your house. What is going on? You put on your silk pajamas and a satin scarf to protect your hair.

The first thing you looked for was your phone. You left it on the bed, right? Well it wasn't there. You checked under the bed, under the covers, it still wasn't there.

You sighed and went out to the living to see Shuri, still sitting there- with your phone on the counter.

"Riri Williams huh?"

"Why were you-"

"You'd really stoop that low?"

"Lets get this straight, she treats me better than you ever could." You snap back. She rolls her eyes. "If you say so." She says sarcastically.

"You know what? I dont ever want to see you again. Get out." You raise your voice slightly. Shuri's eyes widen, you never, ever shout.

"What?" She replies. "Get. Out before I loose it on you." You say to her. "Ma...can't we just..." her voice trails off. She gets up from her seat and grabs your waist, rubbing it in circular motions.

"I said GET out- and leave my apartment keys here." You commanded as you push her off of you.

She got up with no problems and left through the door.

"You gone regret this one."

"Shut up and get out of my house."

"She'll be running right back to me." She thought.

But yet you never came back.

2 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋

It was now almost two months since you had seen Shuri or talked to Shuri. She still tries to reach you but shes blocked on everything. You lay your head on Riri's lap as you both had talked. You and Riri had been together and happy since that night.

Riri secretly took her phone out to get pictures of you. You grinned at her, then realised what she was doing. "Baby, stop!" You giggled as you put your hand at the camera to block the capture.

She laughed along with you as she bent down to give you a kiss on your lips. "I hate you sometimes." You groan.

"Fasho." She said, smirking. "Riri- No-" before you can finish your sentence she picks you up and throws you on her shoulder.

"Let me down!" You whine as you hit her muscular toned back.

She throws you on your bed. "You know you love me. Cmon now."

"-especially when I do this" she kisses your neck softly.

You roll your eyes and grin at her.

"I knew it." She grins back as she showers you with kisses.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

[ventingfanfics]

Academic Sensations

A/N: Just a little free-form that I wanted to post since the idea came to me. It's not meant to be a masterpiece, just hope someone enjoys it.

“Did I walk into an Axe store, because what in the cologne hell?” Mary Jane aka MJ grimaced as she entered Riri’s dorm room.

Riri chuckled lightly. “That’s all Shuri.”

Suddenly the young woman in question appeared, visibly displeased. 

“For your information, I’m not wearing cologne today, I’m wearing perfume—and, yes, there’s a difference,” Shuri countered. 

MJ and Riri exchanged entertained looks. 

“My bad, Shuri, I didn’t mean to offend,” MJ replied with a small laugh.

Shuri didn’t acknowledge the apology, though something else concerned her. “Is it too much? Is it overpowering?” Her eyes adorably darted between the two other young women. 

“Nah, you good,” Riri answered, breaking the silence while using her phone. 

Shuri smiled easily. “Good. Y/N likes this smell on me.”

“That’s why you went ham,” MJ realized. She laughed with Riri.

Shuri looked disgusted. “You two are haters, mad that you don’t have a study date with a cute girl.”

Riri and MJ both chuckled like Shuri was a baby trying to talk. 

“I get bitches on the daily, but okay,” Riri said, grinning. 

“Say that!” MJ agreed, dapping her up. 

Shuri shook her head. There was only so much she could take. She felt like she was losing brain cells which was ironic considering they were all gifted, especially the likes of Riri. She grumbled something about “nonsense” under her breath along with some added Xhosa.

“If you have to keep getting more…girls, then it means you’re obviously not as good as you think you are,” Shuri retorted. 

MJ gasped and Riri furrowed her brows, putting her phone down on the coffee table. She and Shuri stared at each other. 

“Damn, you can’t take a joke?” Riri asked. 

“Just, what did I tell you about calling women bitches?” 

“Some of them are,” MJ pursed her lips.

Shuri sighed and checked her reflection in the small mirror hung up in the living room on the wall. She fiddled around with her perfectly fresh curls and cut. “I don’t have time for this. I will be late to see my Y/N.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a lot for a study date…innocent my ass,” Riri replied, going into the kitchen.

“Clap those cheeks,” MJ nodded at Shuri with a closed-mouth smile.

Shuri couldn’t leave her friends fast enough and not just because she was embarrassed. 

The thought of seeing you brought her peace and serenity. She smiled from ear to ear amid her racing heart. 

The pair of you had been studying for a few months now. Little did Shuri know, things were about to escalate. 

When you answered the door, your eyes were glued to Shuri in a way that made her blush and become self-conscious. Her vibrant smile faded as you just stood there, taking her in.

“Y/N?” She nearly stuttered, a frown of confusion on her stunning face.

Noticing you were worrying the poor girl, you cracked your dazzling smile. “Hi, Shuri. Come on in.” 

“You scared me, had me worried,” She said, now able to poke fun at the situation as she obeyed your command. 

“I’m sorry, you just look so good.”

Shuri froze. Then, she smiled from ear to ear. “Yeah? You think so?” She turned to fully face you.

You nodded earnestly. 

“You always look good,” she told you, blushing lightly through her rich skin.

You just smiled. “Thank you, baby.” You took note of how she seemed to slightly tense. It always appeased you when Shuri got shy. Sometimes you did things to purposely evoke that response. “Can I get you a snack before we begin?”

“A snack? Um, sure, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Water is fine, thank you.”

Shortly after, the two of you moved to your room. Shuri smiled as she took in the familiar surroundings. “I always like being in your room,” she said softly.

“Yeah? Maybe you should become my roommate then.” 

~~

“Bast,” Shuri whispered, closing her eyes.

“Pardon?” You replied.

“You’re driving me wild,” she admitted as your hand held her toned thigh.

“I am? I haven’t done anything, baby.” You smiled widely and cupped her cheeks. Her eyes landed on you. They looked soft and dark at once.

“Your touch,” she murmured.

That flooded your core. “You want more?” 

Shuri nodded hazily.

“Use your words,” you lowly ordered. 

“Y-Yes. Please.”

“Ooh, respectful, too.” You brought her into a luscious kiss. Shuri leaned into you and kissed you back eagerly. She whimpered as your hand caressed in between her thighs. She desperately lay her touch on your hips. 

“Y/N…please,” she begged when your lips reluctantly separated.

You placed her hand on your breast and she moaned. You chuckled to yourself and sucked her neck as you encouraged her to fondle you. 

A trembling Shuri accused you of “killing” her. 

The reality was, you brought her more life than she’d ever known.