#its the only thing they will go up to the bars of the cage and look at when i put it on. they dont look at anything else on tv.

[marklikely]

watching movies w the Boys during social time and so far they really like the reanimator green goo and nothing else

[mewtwo24]

You know reading vol 5 of mdzs before all the rest (don't ask me why I'm a clown and there were Circumstances) has to be the craziest experience of my life. Because it took all of ten minutes of wwx talking to literally hit me so hard in the gut I had to sit down and listen to really loud music for a while to calm down.

Who needs therapy when mxtx is alive and writing, I guess????? 🤡

Can't wait to get to the actual tragic parts I just know I'm gonna be that "help" frog phone meme

[cordeliawhohung]

Strangers

john price x fem!reader | masterlist | ao3

John Price remembers every life he's ever lived. When death takes him in one universe, he's born into the next with all his memories and past experiences still intact. Throughout the lives he's lived, you're the only thing that ever seems to quell the ache in his chest, and he spends every life searching for your comfort. Except, in this life, he's too late

cw: soulmate!au, murder, suicide, feticide, kidnapping, drugging, possessive john price, non-con elements, one shot, dead dove: do not eat!!!

In every life you’ve ever lived, John Price finds you. 

He’s drawn to you like an animal is drawn to its cage. The glint of the metal bars look like stars if he squints hard enough, and the smell of blood and iron is the fairest perfume in the world. There is no life that he wishes to live without you in it. Tucked close to his chest in bed at night. Curled up underneath his thumb. Where you go, he follows you, hidden in the shadows until he’s ready to reveal himself as the soulmate who’s been tracking you across eons worth of lives. 

It’s a simple curse. One that’s haunted him since he first poofed into existence so long ago he can’t recall how much time has passed. Forever bound to remember every life he’s ever lived while everyone else debates the possibility of a god or heaven, forgetting their reincarnated selves in other universes. It’s a particularly lonely ailment. He had been locked in chains in one life for attempting to convince the world that there was life after death, not through a god, but through sheer human will. Had to sever the artery in his tongue with his teeth and drink down his blood to escape a life of imprisonment, and just like he knew he would, he woke up in his next life a free man. 

These days, he spends his lives on something more worthwhile: you. Just as he does, you look the same in every universe with a smile he knows by touch alone and a laugh that is the only melody that can soothe the immortal ache in his chest. He’s fried his brain with drugs and killed his liver with drink, forever carrying the burden of memory, and yet throughout his travels, you remain the only thing capable of soothing that terrible ache that haunts him. If death has already taken you in one life, he kills himself and moves onto the next, a wild man forever on the hunt for you. 

The only other thing that stays consistent throughout his many lives besides the desire to be yours, is the taste of fresh tea. He prefers Yorkshire tea, but the Earl Grey they substitute at the shop is fine enough. Quiet muttering fills the air around him as he sits in the corner of the shop, alone with his thoughts. He takes a sip of the tea, allowing the hint of lavender to wash over his tongue as if cleansing him. It’s the only thing that tastes and smells like home. Besides you, of course; but he hasn’t found you yet, and it’s getting late. 

Usually, he’s lucky enough to find you by the time both of you are in your twenties. It’s easy to win you over at that age. He holds a maturity well beyond his years, and you hold a wide-eyed innocence that has you in his grasp before you even realize it. But he’s in his thirties, and that has him anxious. Too much time has passed — a decade more than usual — which leaves him with a variety of possibilities. Ones he doesn’t like entertaining. 

No matter. He’s learned to be somewhat patient over the countless lifetimes spent searching for you, because it always pays off in the end. All the marriages, the children you have, the love you make. John Price is the luckiest man in the world, being able to replay his favorite memories with you for all eternity. He could never tire of you, would never dream of such a terror. 

So when the bell attached to the shop door rings with the entrance of another customer, it quickly turns to music to his ears when he sees you. Afternoon sunlight illuminates the world behind you, blinding him with the beauty you carry across universes and worlds. Your familiar eyes scan the area briefly, hardly paying him any mind before you approach the counter with a grace and poise that has his heart thudding in his throat. He can never get used to the first time. The first time his eyes land on you, he hears your voice, or skin touches yours; it’s the only thing that can tear him apart as well as you do. 

He tries not to stare at your ass when you order your drink. It’s always been his favorite physical feature of yours. There’s something different about this version of you, yet still familiar. Nothing is ever entirely unknown to him, not when it concerns you, but you’re glowing more than usual. It’s captivating in a way that makes him feel like a dog, looking at a woman in such a perverse way, but he knows you like it when he stares. You always have in every other life.

When the barista hands you a to-go cup, John knows he doesn’t have long before you slip away. Such a sharp girl, quick on her feet. Always buzzing around, never staying in one place for too long, as if the imprint of your soul enjoyed the chase of him following after you. It’s a game he enjoys very much; one he doesn’t mind entertaining at all. 

John rises from his seat, cup still half full, where he slips to the door just as you turn around to leave. His pace is leisurely, certainly in no rush as his hands reach out for the exit, only for him to pause. How silly of him to have left his drink behind, the only reason he even came to that shop in the first place. When he turns around, it’s quick and violent, and catches you so off guard you run right into him. 

Piping hot tea splashes around in your to-go cup, and if it wasn’t for John’s quick reflexes and a firm grip on your wrist, you would’ve gotten yourself hurt. Your gasp is sweet and melodic on his ears, and he nearly melts under your gaze as your wide eyes stare at him. Your surprise is cute. As if you couldn’t remember meeting him in countless different universes like this. 

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he says as if surprised. His grip loosens on your wrist just as his other hand comes up to rest on your waist. It’s quick, he knows; but in some way, you’re already used to it. “You alright?” 

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and once you do, John feels you slip out of his grasp as you take a step back. Both of your hands come up to hold the cup, afraid of dropping it, and you give him a polite smile and nod. 

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage as you chuckle and gesture to your drink. 

John’s hands mourn the absence of your warmth, yet he allows them to politely fall back against his side. His lips yearn to be on yours. For him, this isn’t a first time greeting, but a long awaited reunion. Still, he calms his nerves and hardens them to steel as he chuckles with you. 

“Would’ve hated for you to have gotten hurt,” he comments as his eyes glance down at your legs. The brief thought of that searing hot liquid broiling the supple skin of your thighs invades his mind before he can push it away. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

Whatever your response is, he can’t hear it. The dazzling bling of your betrayal drowns out the sound of your voice and everything around him. It’s beautiful; your ring. Its gemstone glints in the sunlight streaming through the windows as if attempting to blind him. No, not blind him. Something worse. It screams at him the very thing he had feared for the last few years; he was too late. Bound to another man in matrimony, a silly mistake you had made before ever seeing the light. 

The aftertaste of tea suddenly tastes putrid on his tongue. His sweet mate, too impatient to wait for him in that lifetime. You’d fucked other men in other lives, and though it had always made his stomach turn, John could understand. But marriage? 

His teeth threaten to shatter under the pressure of his clenching jaw. 

When the sound comes back to him, his eyes comprehend the expression on your face. Discomfort — near disdain. In this universe, John Price is not your lover. He is a man, and only that. One who just so happens to be barring you from the exit. 

He remembers himself, and smiles at you kindly as he quickly steps to the side, muttering an apology with a jaw that’s much too stiff. And still, he reaches behind him to hold the door open for you, and despite your apprehension you thank him quietly and say goodbye before you vanish into the streets. Your smell lingers in the air next to him for only a moment before it dissipates and drowns in the aroma of herbs and teas. His face goes cold as he glares at the corner where his now cold tea sits. 

This was the first life he ever lived where you married a man that wasn’t him. Something broke. Shattered in his chest where the shards cut him apart from the inside out. When he breathes in, he can smell the blood pooling inside of him and it wakes him up to the terrible realization that — for once in his many, many lifetimes — he’s late. He’s late, and he doesn’t know what to do. 

As the sweet smell of tea fades and is replaced by the putrid aroma of London, John tells himself to let it go. So what he wasted thirty plus years just for your heart to already be stolen away from him? There’s a millennia behind him, and a millennia ahead of him. When one life doesn’t go right for him, there’s always the next. Yet as pavement turns to brick and The Thames sprawls out in front of him beyond metal bars, he finds himself hesitating. The idea of letting go can’t quite sink its tendrils into his mind, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the barrier in front of him. 

Bitter wind bites at his face as he looks at the water below him. Hesitation. He doesn’t know why it paralyzes him. There’s never been any need or use for second guesses, because he’s always known what’s waiting for him on the other side. All he needs to do is lift his leg, hoist himself up, and then let gravity do the rest. He’s done it before, in some other life. He’s felt his body hit the frigid water with needle-like pain blossoming across his skin just before it swallows him whole. It’s not an easy way to die, but it’s the only thing violent enough that has the capability of smothering the bitterness growing in his heart. 

The answer to his confusion comes as a whisper on the back of his neck, where it tingles until it reaches the base of his spine and flutters throughout every cell of his body. Principle. It’s the principle of it all. In every single life, you’ve been his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, and if you are not, then you are dead. Rotten. Decaying in some grave by the time he finally finds you. You’re not just his desire, the love of his life, his reason for being; you are his right. 

How long can someone love a soul before it becomes theirs? Before it’s ripped out of their lover and tucked safely away into a cage? 

John chuckles as his hand slips from the railing, and he slides them into his pockets as if he had been enjoying the view of grey water and even more grey skies this entire time. Kill himself? No; you’ve been his this entire time. You just don’t know it yet. 

He’s only ever done this a few times before; kidnap someone. In a few of his past lives, he’s been a soldier. A stone-hardened man who’s stolen families as bartering tools to make terrorists talk when their mouths were otherwise sealed shut. Killing is a good way for him to let out the anger that builds in a man’s soul after so long, and though he prefers to keep it to people who deserve it, his fingers can’t help but twitch as he watches your husband drop you off at the yoga studio. 

Doesn’t he — your husband — deserve it? Death? Shouldn’t he pay the ultimate price for stealing you away from your true lover? The man who’s looked after you for eons? John wants to do it. Kill him. Smell the sanguine aroma that mixes with the harsh gunpowder that expels after a bullet is shot. He wants to, and he could do it, but murder muddles things up more than he would like, and though he’s good at covering his trail, he’d rather steal you away without incident. He’s been carefully plotting this ever since he saw you in that tea shop all those days ago; he can’t ruin it. 

A smile pulls at his lips as he thinks about the look on your husband's face, when his pretty little pretend wife doesn’t return home. When he realizes how he’s failed you.

John’s hands tap at the steering wheel as he waits, patient as ever, for your session to end. Silly of you to go to a night class, really. Even sillier of your husband to allow such a terrible thing. If anything, it's greater proof that this new man in this new life isn’t good for you. It could have been anyone sitting in that car park, waiting for you to leave. Waiting to take you home.

Good thing it’s only him. 

John exits the car just before eight. Cool air does its best to calm the electricity sizzling in his veins, but ultimately it’s his own mind that stills his nerves. Everything is planned out in his mind with moves expertly rehearsed in a past now forgotten, yet still ingrained in his memory; he knows he’ll get exactly what he wants. You. It’s all he craves. All he ever does. 

You exit the studio with a laugh and a wave goodbye to the other women in your yoga class. That pathetic husband of yours is late, which only proves to be good fortune for John as he slips by your side. His feet are dangerously silent on the pavement and his arm is just as warm as ever as he wraps it around your waist, blade in hand. Even through the fabric of your shirt its point is noticeably sharp, and your feet stumble as he presses it against you in warning. 

“Not a word, darling,” he whispers, too saccharine to be a stranger. 

You listen, just like he knew you would, and he steers you away from the pavement and into the car park. It’s difficult for him not to chuckle as he recalls you in another life. How you once batted your pretty lashes at him, all but begging him to use a knife in bed with you. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the cold sting of it against your skin. He wonders if some part of you feels that way in this life. 

Once you reach the car, he slips the zip ties over your wrists in a single fluid motion before opening the door for you. Any onlookers would just think he’s being a gentleman helping you into the car like that, but there’s a method to his madness. As soon as you’re seated into the passengers side, your eyes meet his and they widen with terrified recognition. Not quite the look he hoped for from you, but your expression quickly melts away the moment a needle pierces through your pants and into your thigh. All that’s left to do is buckle you in and drive off. 

He likes to pretend he’s carrying you to your honeymoon room as he curls you up into his arms. A sweet bride, passed out against his chest as he carries you to bed, safe in the confines of the cage he’s spent that entire lifetime preparing for you. You don’t stir when he places you in bed, but he lays down next to you as if both of you are resting. He lays in front of you so he can see your face while it’s peaceful; not while it’s twisted with confusion and disgust like it was in the tea shop a few days ago. No, he likes you much better like this. Quiet and pliant. 

The tips of his fingers trace the features of your face, and it’s a dance he’s grown to have well memorized. They brush your lips and the tip of your nose before dipping underneath your jaw where they continue to wander. It doesn’t feel wrong, even though he knows you’d beg to differ. He’s done this before, in a life you don’t remember. Touch you like this. Feeling the dip between your breasts and the skin of your stomach. He pats your hands, still bound together with a zip tie — he tells himself he’ll remove them once you start behaving — before caressing your thighs. He wants to slip upwards, to brush his thumb against your clit just like how he knows you like it, but he refrains. He’ll wait until you wake up to do that. Your gasps are always sweeter when you’re aware. 

The sweet bliss of numb eternity melts away as the drugs begin to wear off, and when your eyes flutter open you’re met with the face of a stranger. Truly, he’s not a stranger at all. Or, at least that’s what John would have you believe with the knowing smile he gives you. Your bound hands move up and press against his chest, desperately attempting to earn some space between the two of you. This only makes him laugh, and his hand rests on top of yours. 

“Easy, darling,” he soothes.

An incoherent response stumbles out from your lips just as fearful tears swell in your eyes. His hand pants yours against his chest before he frowns. The gemstone on your wedding ring stands out like a sore thumb against his palm, and it serves as a stark reminder as to why he had to do all this in the first place. You don’t — or can’t — fight against him as he slips the ring off your finger and places it on the nightstand next to him. He’ll dispose of it properly another time, but for now he just can’t stand to see that proof of ownership on you. 

“Please.” It’s the first word you’re able to slur out, and John hangs onto the syllable like it’s dessert. “W-Whatever you want… please… my husband, h-he’ll give it to you just… let me go, please.” 

Husband. He hates that word on your lips when it’s not in reference to him. 

“I’ve already gotten what I want, love,” he whispers. 

Your eyes wrench shut and tears fall free at the realization that there’s nothing you can do to get away from this crazed man. He shushes you as he holds your face in his hands and presses his lips against your forehead. It’s not enjoyable, the way you recoil from him, but giving you the same love he’s given you in every other life feels right. It feels more wrong to withhold it from you. 

Because this is his right, isn’t it? Of course it is, and in some sort of way, you seem to know this too. Your hands no longer press against his chest in disdain, and it’s all too easy to prop himself up on his elbow and press his lips against yours. The pressure is firm, as if he’s holding himself back from taking more from you. He groans at the taste of salt on your lips, and nearly chuckles at the way you tremble. It’s a one-sided embrace that you refuse to return, but he tells himself you’ll learn otherwise soon enough. 

When John pulls away, your eyes refuse to focus on him as the shame eats you from the inside out. Your entire body is limp, bound hands resting against your stomach as he sits up. Deciding you’ve been behaving well enough, he reaches for the knife on the nightstand and he turns back to you, ready to cut the ties from your wrists. 

The very moment the glint of the knife catches your eye is the moment you begin to squirm. Legs thrash and mess up the sheets as you scramble away from him until your head and back is pressed against the headboard. Your chest heaves violently as your terror overtakes you, and John pauses as you retreat. He’s never seen you look at him like that; not in any life he’s ever lived.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. 

“Please don’t,” you beg, his assurance falling on deaf ears. Your pleas turn into mindless stuttering for a moment before something visibly breaks in you, forcing you to share a secret that feels like sealing your death: “Please, you can’t just- I- I’m pregnant! Please!” 

Everything stops. The world. His heart. It all falls quiet except for the sound of your hyperventilating which is almost as deafening as the ringing in his ears. Pregnant. Anything kind in John’s eyes dies quietly as he clenches the knife in his hand. 

Pregnant. Not with his child. It must be a lie — it has to be a lie. You don’t look pregnant. There is no swelling of your stomach. Yet your hands lie on your lower abdomen as if you’re cradling something. Cradling someone. You have never been good at lying in any of your lives, and the candor sheen in your eyes tells him you’re not good at lying in this one, either. 

John tells himself he only wants to embrace you. To mourn the life the two of you could have had if you only behaved. He doesn’t register why you’re screaming until the blood covers his hands, and then you fall quiet. His knife sinks into your stomach like it’s butter, and it pulls free from you even easier. You stare up at him, confused. As if you can’t comprehend why he would do this to you.

Ichor flows free from you like a river, and all you can do is gasp and paw at your wound. Your legs flail as John pulls you against his chest, chin resting on top of your head as if this is something he can soothe away with a hug. It’s not. He can’t soothe away your betrayal. Can’t come to terms with the fact you carry another man’s child when you should be carrying his. 

“I know,” he shushes with a strained voice. “I know. It’ll be over soon.” 

Your death is not kind, and he mourns every minute you bleed in his arms until you eventually still. It’s only when your blood goes cold that he allows himself to cry. Angry, hot tears that sear his skin as they soak into your hair. Damn this ruined life. Damn the years he wasted trying to find you only for you to be soiled by the time you were in his grasp. He hates the gore that stains your being, but he assures himself it was necessary. 

In every life, you belong to him. In the lives that you don’t, you’re already dead. 

John carefully places your body back on the mattress where he takes in the sight of you. There’s no more glow to your skin, not like there was while you were alive. But you’re dead, and he knows the life inside of you is dead, too. He tries to take comfort in that fact before angling the knife towards himself. 

Killing himself is easier than killing you, as driving the knife into his throat is a well practiced motion. It’s something he’s done before, and he’s so used to it he doesn’t even groan at the sting as the blade slices his artery. Darkness is quick to cloud his vision as the blood loss overwhelms him, and he sputters and stares down at your cold body below. There is little comfort he feels when his blood meets yours on the stained sheets of the bed he wished to love you on. The mixing of blood is the only bond the two of you will ever have in that life. 

He coughs as he falls forward. Soon, he has no use for any sort of comfort at all. 

There is no blood in your next life. No iron taste in your mouth, or rotten flesh haunting your nose. No, there is only ink, paper, and well loved books. 

You love your job. Books are your livelihood; the tool you use to escape reality on rainy days, so it only makes sense that in this life you work as a librarian. The building is dated with poorly insulated windows, and a bell that chimes as another patron enters, but that’s what makes it charming. Millions of words have been consumed in that library, and they linger in a way that never leaves you feeling alone. 

Several books sit tucked safely in your arms as you wander aisles, on the hunt to return them home. Every shelf is well memorized. You could find any book in that building blind folded, and you hum to yourself as you go to return Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to its rightful home on the top shelf of the WXYZ aisle. 

Your feet are nimble as you climb the step stool to reach the shelf. It nearly reaches the ceiling, which is no small feat for a building of that size. Your arm stretches over your head and you breathe in the scent of stale paper and well loved books. Just as your fingers slide the item into place, the stool below you jerks, and your stomach drops as you fall to the side. 

The books in your arms tumble onto the ground, but you’re saved from that same fate as a pair of arms swoop around you. You squeak as your hands grip the shirt of your savior, and you look up with wild eyes at the man. John Price is younger in this life when he finds you. In his twenties this go around. His face is clean shaven, but his eyes still hold the wisdom of forgotten ages and dead worlds. 

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he apologizes. His grip on you loosens, but he doesn’t quite cut you free just yet. “You alright?” 

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage through a breathless chuckle. 

There’s an innocence in your eyes that has John smiling at you. His hands are kinder in this life. The angry claws that ended your previous life don’t exist anymore. They do not wield a knife in anger; they only hold you with unbridled adoration. It’s the way things are supposed to be, with you in his arms and looking up at him with that innocent gaze, just the way he likes you. For a moment, John worries that you somehow recognize him when you tilt your head, yet as you bashfully return his smile, he takes comfort in knowing that you don’t remember anything. 

You don’t remember anything at all. 

[taintedcigs]

— hardest of hearts

“darling heart, I loved you from the start. but you'll never know what a fool I've been.” ‹‹ — florence + the machine, hardest of hearts.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: jealousy has never been your strongest suit. you realize that even better when you see steve and nancy in close proximity. based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.6k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and making out, they kinda go hard at it for no reason, this is just an excuse for me to ramble abt how pretty steve is bye.

author's note: ohh if u want pls listen to hardest of hearts by florence + the machine when u r reading!! luv that song <3 and again. ignore the corny summary and i didnt proof-read and wrote this shitty thing in 30 mins yada yada!!! based on this amazing request i got from my lolo bean angel @lofaewrites i hope u like it MWAHHHHH!!!!

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Jealousy.

That ugly feeling clawed at your insides, consuming you whole, bringing out the worst in you and you knew it, yet you couldn't help it. Finding yourself powerless against its caging grip.

The venomous glare you threw at the two of them surely had to burn off Steve's back, but they remained rooted to their spot, talking about whatever the fuck, while Nancy lingered far too close to him for your liking.

Her curls danced in the dim light, swaying with each infectious giggle that escaped her lips at his jokes. The sight of her head thrown back in mirth only made your blood boil more with it.

You wondered what the fuck was so funny that he felt compelled to whisper to her, the sight of them so close to each other had your entire body feeling hot, an ugly feeling consuming you whole. The fragile porcelain filled with alcohol threatened to break under your harsh grip.

And of course, you couldn't help the way you act entirely unreasonable when he comes back to the booth.

Cold, a total raging bitch, your mouth feeling hot the more you snapped at him. And he knew, he knew the exact reason for your attitude. Yet, he couldn't help but find it adorable. How your lips downturn as you scoff at him, just because you're jealous.

You storm out to catch your breath and get some cold air, his footsteps fall into sync behind you, because he can see right through the facade you desperately clung to, see the way your doe eyes flash hurt, thick lashes hiding your disappointment behind the anger.

You lean against the brick wall of the bar, the chilly Hawkins air seeping through the fabric of your coat, almost enough to calm you down before you can hear Steve's hesitant footsteps as he closes the distance between you.

He's making you so pathetic.

The concern in his eyes mirrors the ache in your chest, gaze searching yours for answers you were reluctant to give.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, tone merely honey-glazed.

He didn't let you answer, instead following up with a, "Or are you just... jealous?" That stupid smirk lingers on his lips, making your insides gooey, while you wore that scowl as your mask.

"What?" You scoffed, playing dumb, as you crossed your arms against your chest, almost to protect your feelings.

"Oh my god, you so are," he teases, that damned smirk stretching his mouth into a full grin, reaching all the way to his eyes, causing them to crinkle, so pretty that you are melting all over.

"Shut up, Harrington," you murmur, heat spreading across your cheeks, gaze unable to avoid him. Pools of warm honey-toned brown eyes drawing you in so effortlessly.

"God, do you still not believe me?" He shakes his head with a slight huff, shoulders slumping in defeat.

You know exactly what he's talking about, with the way his brows quirk up, and he tugs at his silky hair in frustration.

Steve told you he liked you. A couple of days ago. But you just scoffed and huffed, rolling your eyes in his face.

You couldn't—more so—you just didn't want to believe it. You thought it was too good to be true.

Couldn't believe that he would want you when he used to be so hung up on Nancy. Blame it on your insecurities, or your attachment issues. Or blame it on the fact that you were scared. So fucking scared.

And you'd rather avoid all of it than have him break your heart. It's unreasonable, but to your idiotic brain, you're being logical.

"H—how do you expect me to when you end up doing shit like this?" Your tone is barely above a whisper, suddenly insecure like you're exposing yourself bare to him. You just need him to convince you. And he knows. He finally knows.

"Like what? Talking to Nancy?" He scoffs, like it's ridiculous. To him it is. That you even can believe the idea that he still thinks about her, when all that invades his mind is you.

"Like talking to your ex, the same ex you were hung up on," you reply back bitterly, words burning your tongue as they barely roll off your lips.

He leans in closer to you, almost to make a point. "Were, like you said." He spits in frustration, "past fucking tense. I moved on, so long ago. You know that."

"And she just said hi, as a friend. Nothing more," he enunciates it carefully and would explain that to you all goddamn night, if it meant it would wash your worries away, he meant every word he said to you. He didn't care about Nancy. It was you. And from now on, it was only going to be you.

You were desperate, so desperate to not show him your true feelings, but of course he could see right through you. "Maybe, maybe she did, but-"

He groans, not even caring that he's interrupting you. "There's no fucking buts, sweetheart, I told you, told you that I fucking liked you, that I wanted you, why do you insist on trying to push me away?"

You gulp when you notice how he has you caged against the textured walls, your back hitting the bricks with a soft thud, his breath flushing your already heated cheeks. "I don't—"

"What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” His words are harsh, not in a rude way, only to get it through your thick skull. Show you how much you actually mean to him.

Rough hands end at your side, that annoying strand of hair falling to his thick lashes, making him look so pretty that you just want his hot mouth on yours. "There is no one else for me but you, and even you can't fucking change my mind, yeah?"

"I don't give a fuck about any other girl unless they're you." Words fall like silk from his lips, and they are heavenly to your ears, blinking quickly to process all of it.

And he enjoys it, sees the way your gaze glimmers, cheeks adorned with a sudden warmth as you give him those doe-eyes that make him want to crumble into you, fully.

You nod dumbfoundedly, almost to let him know that you finally believe him, and he gives you a soft chuckle, raising his brows "Are you going to let me take you out on that date?"

His caramel hues swirl hypnotizingly as they gaze into you, so alluring paired with the striking moles all over his cheek and neck, making you wanna kiss him all over. "Mhmm," you hardly mumble, too focused on taking all of him in.

He reaches up to touch your cheek, fingers brushing against your skin like feather, soft but making you flustered nonetheless, the faint scent of his woodsy perfume invading your senses. "Come on, use your words, honey," he coaxes, fingers leaving goosebumps in its wake as you can feel him all over.

"Y-yeah," you faintly mumble, not so confident in your voice when he looks at you all hungrily.

His mouth slightly curves into a bigger grin, leaning in as he whispers "Atta girl," almost making you whimper at his low tone.

You lean closer, urging his mouth to yours. He groans when you sweep your thumb over his jaw, knees giving out at the sound. Soft candy lips brush against yours, so agonizingly slow that the heat unfurls all over your body.

He takes your slight shock as a moment to slide his tongue inside, a sigh of relief escaping your velvety lips. He tastes like beer, and something sweet, kissing you with so much heat that you can't help the way you melt into him, his touch burning everywhere it makes contact with.

He brings you closer, as if that's even possible, bodies pressed against each other, your breasts flush against his hard chest, and you can almost feel his heart hammering inside, rhythm matching yours.

His cherry-pout mouth suckles at your bottom lip, slight stubble brushes against your chin, and fuck, you want him, so much so that you let out a low whine.

You want to continue. Desire runs through your body like wildfire, burning him with you, but once you hear the honks of the busy street, the realization of where the fuck the two of you are hits you, and only then you break the kiss.

Standing outside of a bar, kissing like two horny idiots, a pretty giggle escapes your lips when you meet his dreamy gaze again, his hues resembling mostly black now, both sets of pupils blown wide. Passion radiates from both of you.

"Was that enough to prove to you that I really, really, really like you, sweetheart?" He asks with a pretty grin, lips all puffy and smudged with your gloss, earning more hearty giggles and a nod from you.

"Or do you need to kiss me in front of her? Get all territorial?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, brows raised all teasingly, that smirk returning like it ever left, making you huff.

You elbow him playfully before you fist his shirt, bringing him in much more close proximity, again. "Shut up and kiss me again, Harrington."

[buckyalpine]

pleaseee idk if uve done this yet but can u do a fic where bucky is so afraid to be close with u. Then one faithful day an agent starts flirting with u and bucky loses it like he doesn’t understand this feeling, he gets all hot headed and all he knows is he wants u all for himself. AND SHIT GETS ALL HOT N STEAMYYYY. this was inspired by the song close by nick jonas

I. Love. This. 

18+ Jealously, possessiveness, desperate rough sex, sweet sex, horny Bucky got out of his cage. 

First of all, he really doesn't even understand the feeling of liking someone (he doesn't like most people anyway). He's been on dates. Plenty of them actually and they were all fine. Just fine. He never cared about seeing them again, figuring it was a result of how his brain was fried over and over again.

Then you came along. He doesn't understand a damn thing that's happening to him. When you smile, his heart beats a little faster. When you laugh or talk to him, his tongue stops working and all he can do is blush. When you say his name, he swears his body heat shoots up. 

This is the first time he's felt anything like this after decades.

He swore to himself it was nothing, sure you were adorable, sweet, beautiful but that was it. You were so kind to him, your voice was soothing like honey, It didn't matter that you were gorgeous, sexy, such a doll-

What was he doing.

The intensity of what he felt scared him. He didn't want to get close to you and it wasn't like he had feelings for you, something was just going on with him. It'd go away eventually. He told himself that every single day. He continued to keep his distance from you, figuring all these feelings would disappear soon.

However.

Tonight was something else. He wasn't feeling a light pitter patter in his heart. No. It was raging and thumping. His nostrils flared each time he looked over and he didn't even know why. He had 0 reason to feel like this but it was all happening on its own. 

"Fucks wrong with you" Sam snorted, watching Bucky's jaw clench, his eyes trained on the new agent that was caressing your arm while you both sat at the bar. His ears felt hot the second the agent leaned over to whisper in your ear, Bucky saw red. Whatever he was feeling was at another level, it wasn’t a cute little blush on his cheeks, his heart wasn’t lightly racing. Seeing another man try to touch what he already wanted drove him up the wall. 

You were his. 

What-

He shook his head at the rogue thought that kept intruding his mind, but only more followed.

He wanted you. 

All to himself.

He wanted every part of you, you’re pretty sweet face, soft voice, gorgeous body. 

All to himself. 

No other thoughts occupied his brain anymore, all logic out the door, he didn’t give a fuck who was trying to get near you, that was no concern of his. His body felt hot, he couldn’t just sit and watch anymore. He stalked over to the bar, disregarding the agent that was desperately flirting with you, he was going to take you and claim you. 

“James!” You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his hand grasp your wrist, tugging you off the stool, dragging you through the crowd and up to the hall of your rooms. “James, what are you-

Before you could finish speaking, he cut you off, caging you against the wall, his hands on either side of your head. 

"I want you" His chest rumbled against yours, pressing you further against wall. You squeaked, gasping when you felt his hands trail onto your waist, his nose nudging against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. “Now”

"If you don't tell me to stop, I won't control myself" That was the best warning he was able to muster, using all of his will power not to rub his erection on you. You nearly felt light headed, the scent of his cologne evading your senses, his body heat warming your skin. He smelled so fucking good, his beard rubbing against your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. 

“James, I-

“Tell me to stop” He growled, his hands gripping your waist tighter. “s’getting harder for me to keep my hands to myself baby” 

“Don’t stop” You whimpered, moaning when he smashed his lips onto yours, walking you back to his room without breaking your lips apart. He kicked the door closed, nipping and kissing your skin, sucking dark bruises onto your neck until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed. 

He panted, his forehead resting on yours, trying to collect himself, his hips rutting against your core causing your dress to ride up. You couldn't hold back your moans, feeling his length press and rub onto your clit, spreading your legs further and wrapping your thighs around his waist. 

“You gonna let me have you?” He mumbled against your lips, groaning when you tugged at his shirt. His mind was all over the place, usually when it came to you, he thought of softness and sweetness. After seeing you tonight, he needed you to be covered in him, filled with him, fucking smell like him. “Baby, m’telling you, if you don’t tell me to stop, m’gonna fucking ruin you” 

“Don’t hold back James”

That was all he had to hear. 

He stripped his clothes off, throwing them aside, giving his cock a few tugs before pulling you up to take your dress off. 

“I need you naked baby, wanna see all of you” He didn’t waste any time pulling the straps down, along with your tiny panties, throwing it aside before crawling on top of you. He trailed kisses down your body, licking and nipping your skin, smirking each time you whimpered, his arms spreading your legs apart. You felt your body heat up, wanting to cover yourself up but he wasn’t having any of that. He spread them further apart, loving the way you squirmed, biting your lip while he nearly drooled at the sight of your dripping cunt. 

“S’pretty baby” He looked mesmerized, licking his lips, “So wet” 

“Jamess” You whined, your thighs flinching under his hold, wanting to close your legs so badly but he held them apart firmly, tossing them over his shoulders. 

“All shy for me pretty baby?” He groaned at your perfect scent, his cock leaking onto the sheets. His fingers spread your pussy apart, getting the perfect view of your needy clit and fluttering entrance. He licked a thick stripe through your folds, lapping your wetness before getting to his absolutely favorite part. He started off with soft kisses onto your clit, his cock growing harder with your whiny moans needing more. His lips sealed around your sensitive nub, suckling you making you cry out, grabbing his hair, back arching off the bed. He moaned around your clit, softly sucking while grinding his cock against the mattress, his hands digging into your thigs.

“You taste-” He sucked your clit again, his eyes rolling back “So sweet baby” He let his tongue move in circles, flicking and teasing it repeatedly, loving the way you gushed and soaked his beard. “Go a head, cum on my face doll” He pushed two fingers in you, pumping and curling them to stroke that spongy spot making you cry out. “Cum baby, fucking cum, soak my face doll”

“JAMESJAMESFUCK-” Your thighs closed on his head, tugging his hair making him groan, his balls throbbing as he felt your juices soak his face further. He kissed your sensitive clit before crawling on top of you, stroking his cock, rubbing it through your wetness.  

“Can’t wait any longer, need to be inside you” You brought your legs to wrap around you, your arms gripping onto his tight biceps, waiting for him to stretch you. You moaned, feeling his cock nudge against your entrance, his thick swollen tip making your stomach flutter. 

“Fuck James” You cried out as he started to fill you inch by inch, his hands fisting the sheets already, your pussy clenching around him. “Fuck me baby” Your nails dug into his shoulders making him groan. He didn’t bother with warming you up first, bringing his knees up slightly, and fucking you hard and fast without holding back, his balls slapping your ass with each stroke. 

“I want you” He grunted, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go with each thrust, desperate to be all the way inside you. “Fuck, I want you” He let his body fall onto you, legs nearly slipping against the sheets, his hips rocking and grinding against you while he gripped onto your wrist with one hand, the other grabbing onto the head board. 

“You have me baby” You cupped his cheeks, stroking his face while he groaned, fucking you harder. 

“Not enough, fuck, I want you all to myself, wanna be the only one to have you like this, only one to touch you, fuck you, make love to you” He wrapped his arms around your body, panting against your neck, his cock starting to twitch. 

“You already do Bucky” You kissed his lips, rubbing yours hands all over his body, his skin hot, “M’all yours baby, just yours” 

“Yeah?” He grunted, bringing his knee up to fuck you even deeper making you scream, his cock swelling, balls growing heavy. “You’re mine?”

“FUCK JAMES I-” You couldn’t formulate words, your legs shaking as he slammed into you, “YOUR COCK-S’DEEP” You claws onto his back, your juices squirting and dripping onto the sheets, your pussy clenching around him. 

“C’mon baby, I want your cum” He moaned, fucking you harder, desperate for you to make a mess all over his bed, “Give me your cum angel, cream on my dick, it’s your cock baby, go on, make a mess on it baby, make a mess on this cock” 

“OH GOD FUCKKK” You sobbed, feeling your orgasm rip through you, “pleasepleaseplease- “ You let out a silent scream and he continued to fuck you through your high. 

“That’s it sweetheart, look baby” Bucky cupping the back of your head, making you look at where you were both connected, his cock nearly white covered in your slick. “My cock’s all covered in your cum baby, would stroke myself with your cum if I could” 

You gave him a dazed look, a smirk flashing across his face, pulling out of you for a moment, moving up so his cock was hovering above your face. 

“See what a mess you made on me baby?” He wrapped around his soaked cock, giving himself long slow strokes, moaning at how wet and silky his length felt covered in your slick. “Feel’s so fuckin’ good baby, I’d be touching myself way more if it always felt this good” He threw his head back, letting his metal hand come down to cup his balls, moaning. You sat up slightly, pulling his cock into your mouth, catching him off guard.

“OH Shittt- He nearly came on the spot, feeling your plush lips wrap around the head of his cock, your tongue working in circles. “My hungry greedy baby” He smirked, letting you lick the tip of his cock clean before pulling you off” I wanna cum inside you baby, s’too sensitive right now” 

He pushed his cock back inside you, moaning at the way you wrapped your body around him, kissing his skin, cupping his face, your eyes glassy and hazy. 

“Can feel your cock throbbing baby” You cooed, kissing his nose, licking up his neck, “Feel’s so good Bucky, cum in me baby, let me feel you” His pace grew sloppy, clinging onto you, he’s starved his orgasm for as long as he could. 

“Oh fuck, you’re all mine, you belong to me baby, not gonna ever let you go” He grew more desperate, his cock throbbing, your tight heat fluttering and clenching around him. “I’m gonna cum” 

“Cum for me Bucky”

“M’gonna cum so fucking hard for you angel-I-SHIT-I-M FUCK M’ cumminggg” He moaned into your neck, giving you three hard thrusts, spilling his load into you. “This is all for you baby, all just for you” He couldn't help himself, nearly rolling around the bed with you, rutting his softening cock into your soaked cunt, making sure he gave you every single drop. “S’all for you sweet girl” 

You both laid down, wrapped in the sheets, sweating and panting, bodies still convulsing with post orgasmic shocks. You gasped, feeling his arm wrap around your waist pulling you over to cuddle, his fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. 

“Y/n?” You blinked, looking up to meet his soft blue eyes looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek. “I meant what I said baby, I want you all to myself”

“You-you like me?” You whispered, your heart soaring. You’d liked Bucky for ages but you were certain he wouldn’t be interested. You were prepared for him to kick you out at the end of the night, indulging in a one night fantasy if that was all you could get. But now..

“You’re such a darling baby, how can you expect me not to fall for you” He brought you closer to kiss your lips, biting his lip nervously, wondering if you wanted that with him, “If you don’t feel the same, it’s okay I-

You cut him off, kissing his deeply, only pulling away for air. 

“You promise?”

“I promise baby doll” He nodded, cradling your body to his, the soft pitter patter returning, and cheeks blushing. “M’all yours doll” 

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[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2, day 1

Danny had no idea what he was doing. There. He admitted it. He had found a book of spells that reminded him of Sam and stole it on instinct. He didn't have much money after running away. He didn't even have the chance to grab one of his Go Bags as his parents fired on him.

Good news was that ghost powers made it very easy to steal stuff. Now with a book that has actual magic spells in it? He'd never go hungry again! It was kinda weird though. New dimension or not he didn't think a grocery store would sell multiple copies of spellbooks just out in the open like this. They were clearly new and a product or modern manufacturing so it wasn't like it was some ancient relic or anything.

Hmm. A mystery for later then. In the meantime he was going to go around Gotham turning rogues and random jerks into frogs! It went pretty well. There was a mass Arkham breakout not too long ago and Danny was having an absolute blast sneaking up and froggifying people while wearing a cheap glittery devil masquerade mask. Once suitable frogged he trapped them in a magic bubble and left them on the rooftops for the bats to find.

This went awry however when one of the local vigilantes, Robin, tried to attack him from above. On reflex he turned Robin into a frog and freaked out, "Okay. Crud. Okay. I can fix this!" He said while picking up the tiny vigilante, "Just promise not to hurt me and i'll turn you back!"

The angry ribbiting told him that the vigilante would agree to no such thing, "In that case," Danny used his ghost powers to make a human sized ice cage and placed the frog inside. The cages bars were thin but sturdy. It would take Robin only a few good hits to break out of it but by that time the mysterious magic user would have had a head start.

Unfortunately, Danny had just started the spell that would turn Damian back when one of his siblings, Tim, got the jump on him...and got similarly froggy for it. Now there were two frogged bats and a startled magic user.

Danny looked up at the rooftops to see more and more bats staring at him. And the just froggified Red Robin. And the frog version of regular Robin. In a cage. This looked bad. After dodging a batarang Danny apologized to the frogs and quickly yelled, "Not today satan!" At batman before dropping a smoke bomb and teleporting away.

Later at the batcave Damian and Tim were placed in different enclosures to keep their new forms healthy and to prevent any frog on frog violence as they sort this out. At first they thought this was a meta who could turn people into frogs but that was quickly ruled out due to Damian and Tim both typing on devices and telling them about the ice powers.

Thus begins Danny's attempts to find the frogged siblings and turn them back before he gets stabbed by an angry bird and Robin and Red Robins attempts to escape to find this magic user cause it was clear that he had cursed them by accident and had wanted to turn them back right away.

They're family keeps trying to stop them though saying its too dangerous to go out as a frog and they don't know what that magic users intentions were. They didn't really have much choice however seeing at Constantine couldn't help them.

The trench coated brit and said this magic was like nothing he had ever felt before and he would have to do some research. Which lead to the boys swinging across rooftops as amphibians and probably making more than a few people question what was in thier coffee.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Alpha in the King's Dungeon

A/N: This was someone's request, but I lost the request, so I'm sorry but here it is!

(Alpha) Riordan x GN Omega Reader

General Summary: You've been summoned to a magical world to soothe beast they call Alpha.

Word count: 6.5K

TW: cozy alpha/omega dynamic, kidnapping to another world, gentle alpha, mention of war and a small bit of violence, alpha/omega smut, nesting, knotting, and biting

You woke, your back cold. This wasn't you bed. You smelled something burning, maybe sage or thyme. It smelled herbal. 

“Open your eyes, pretty, I know you're awake,” a nasally voice said. 

Your eyes blinked open, and you squinted at the light. Sitting up, you found yourself in a well-lit room. It looked like a sort of lab with glass vessels filled with brightly colored liquids. Sunlight poured in the large windows. The glass was thick and uneven, making the world outside blurry. It had to be old and crudely cast to look like that. 

“Welcome to my world, little omega,” the voice said. 

You turned to see an old man in a purple robe, looking at you expectantly. He was rather short but had oddly long fingers. His face was gnarled with wrinkles, and his teeth were jagged and yellow as if they'd been broken. 

“Omega?” you murmured, trying to make sense of the place. 

You'd gone to bed as you did every night, yet you woke up here. Where was here? 

“Where am I?” You asked. 

“I'm sure you have many questions,” he chuckled, “but I don't care to answer them. You may not live long enough for it to matter, and I'm short on time.”

“What?” You gasped, instinctively hopping up, but your body was not yours. 

The old man waved a gnarled claw, and you rose off the stone slab where he’d laid you and drifted behind him through a heavy wooden door. 

“Hey, where the fuck am I? Who are you?” You snapped at him, wriggling, desperate to escape. 

It was no use; whatever…magic he'd used on you kept you bobbing aloft just behind him. As he descended steep stone steps, he mumbled to himself. 

“I'm sure I've gotten the signature right this time,’ he muttered. “The last specimen’s pheromones were muddled. Theirs is much more pure. It has to work.” 

He stopped at a heavy iron door with a guard beside it holding a pike. 

“Help me! This guy is kidnapping me!” you shouted to him.

The guard's eyes slid to you for a moment, and you detected the slightest bit of pity. 

“Open the damn door!” The old man snarled. “The king will have all our heads if this doesn't work!” 

The guard gave you another somber glance before finding a ring of keys on his waist and unlocking the door. 

You did not want to go into the dark, smelly place he was taking you, but you floated like a feather on the wind right after him. 

Around you, large shadows loomed behind thick bars. Red eyes peered at you from the gloom. It was quiet at first but then…whatever they were started beating at their cages, howling like beasts. You could only see flashes of sharp teeth and claws. Fear silenced you and you only let out a miserable whimper. 

“Ah, here we are,” he said, stopping at one cell. 

The creature inside roared his outrage at the sound of the old man’s voice. 

There was the sickening snap of wood, and what must have been a bunk came flying at the bars. 

“Now, now, Riordan,” he clucked. “I have a new toy for you to play with. Don't rip this one to bits this time, hmm? If this works, you'll see sunlight soon.” 

The old man, swifter than he looked, opened the gate and tossed you inside. You landed in a pile on the floor and heard the ominous click of the metal lock behind you. 

You crab-walked back towards the gate, terrified of what creature he’d trapped you with. Were you to be food? He'd stolen you from your bed just to feed this…thing?

In the dark, you could only see red eyes, glaring at you, set in a massive form. It must have been eight feet tall and two times the width of a linebacker. 

“Please, please,” you whimpered. “Don't eat me.” 

The creature parted its lips and you could make out massive, sharp teeth. Instead of pouncing on you, it lifted its nose, sniffing the air. 

Staring at it, petrified with fear and confusion, you watched its red eyes dim to a soft glowing green…like sunlight filtering through leaves in spring. They were…pretty. 

The creature took a heavy step forward, his wide feet emitting a deep thud. He seemed interested in you. 

“H-hey,” you stammered. “That's a good…whatever you are…I'm a friend, not food.” 

His eyes narrowed on you, and a large hand emerged from the shadows. You held your breath, ready to be torn apart, but he only patted your head, as if you were a kitten. 

“Fascinating!” The old man said. 

At his voice, the creature growled, then let out a loud roar that sounded more desperate than angry. You shrieked and jumped out of his way as he rushed the door, throwing his shoulder against the bars. A blue light flashed in front of you, and the creature flew back into the far wall, collapsing into a pile with a heavy thunk. 

“I think it's worked!” The old man muttered. “He hasn't torn the arms off of the specimen. Further observations are necessary, but I must report this to the King!” 

“Hey!” You shouted as he scurried away, careful not to touch the bars. “You can't leave me here!”

The old man ignored you, and with a slam, the heavy metal door swung shut behind him. 

Around you, other creatures growled in the darkness, pacing the length of their enclosures. Unsure what to do, you tiptoed towards the shadowy figure slumped against the far wall. 

“You okay, big guy?” You asked. “He didn't kill you, did he?” 

Even though the creature was terrifying, you felt for him. No wonder he was in a bad mood being locked up in a dark, smelly cage.  

He let out a low groan, and you extended a hand, brushing his hair. As your eyes adjusted to the dark, you could see he looked more human than monster. His teeth were far too large to be truly human, and the features of his face were too rugged, with harsh lines and a pronounced brow. Still, he wasn't ugly. He had an attractive cut to his jaw, and his hair, though it needed a brushing, was soft and maybe blond. It was hard to tell in the dark. 

A heavy hand grabbed your wrist, and you screamed, trying to yank your arm back. It was no use; he was too strong. Was this when he ripped your arm off? You braced for pain, but he only lifted his head and sniffed the inside of your wrist. 

“You…smell…amazing,” he said. 

His voice was low and rough, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. His eyes opened, and he looked up at you. They still glowed, but the red hadn't returned. 

“Y-you can talk?” You gasped. 

He let out a chuff devoid of humor. 

“I was human…once,” he said. “I can remember now. I used to talk a lot.” 

“If you're not human, what are you?” You asked. 

“An experiment,” he growled, squeezing your wrist. 

You whimpered, and he looked up at your hand, suddenly letting it go. He looked slightly ashamed. 

“I'm sorry, I,” he muttered. “I'm nothing but a monster now.” 

“Did that old man do this to you?” You asked. “Who is he?” 

He tipped his head back against the stone wall behind him. 

“The King's chief sorcerer,” he said. “He took us all from the army, injected us with Goddess know what, and we became like this.” 

He clutched his head. 

“I don't know how long it's been,” he moaned. “For so long, I could only see red, and then you came along.” 

His eyes focused on you. 

“I'm just a normal person,” you said. “I’m not sure what I could have done.” 

He leaned forward, burying his face in your chest. 

“Oh!” You squeaked. 

“Your scent,” he murmured. “the world becomes clear when I’m near you. You chase the red away.” 

His big arms circled you, and he pulled you into his lap, tucking his nose behind your ear. You felt the heat of his breath grazing your skin and shivered in his arms.  

“I like you here,” he murmured. “Well, not here…but with me.” 

“O-Oh,” you stammered. “Well, just your luck then, huh? Seems I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

He let out another dry chuff. It was as if he'd forgotten how to laugh, but he was trying to remember. 

“Where are we?” You asked. “I went to bed somewhere else.” 

He hummed, thinking as he ran a heavy mitt over your head. 

“We must be in the South, near the Capital,” he said. 

“But where?” You asked. “I'm from Earth…(Y/C)? Heard of it?” 

He shook his head. 

“No, this is Swarin,” he said. “I've never heard of Earth or…(Y/C). Is it across the sea? Only pirates go that far.” 

“I don't think so,” you said. “The old asshole called me Omega. Do you know what that means?” 

At that, he nodded. 

“I don't really understand all the alchemy behind it,” he said in a low grumble. “But I'm an Alpha. A monster. And you…are soft and delicate, an Omega. We…are compatible…I think.” 

“Compatible?” you hummed. 

“The sorcerer has been looking for Omegas. There aren't any in Swarin. He's brought down samples…but they never did…what you do.” 

“What happened to them all? The samples?” You whispered. 

He let out a low groan. 

“I don't know, but I can guess,” he said. “I only remember screams…and blood.” 

His deep voice cracked. 

“What I did…” he sniffled. “What have I become? Why won't they destroy me?” 

He pressed you to him like a teddy bear, and you felt moisture on your neck where he'd tucked his head. 

Your heart raced, but you reached up and rubbed his cheek. 

“It's….it's okay,” you said. “That wasn't you. The old man, the sorcerer, did this…you have no control. When I first saw you, you were out of your mind.” 

“I would have killed you,” he sobbed. 

You patted his head. 

“But you didn't,” you said. “I think …I hope it's okay now.” 

You both looked up as you heard the rusty squeak of the metal door open. 

“This way, your Radiance,” you heard the sorcerer say. 

“This better be good, Elias,” another voice grumbled. “God, this place smells like rotting meat.” 

“Don't mind that it's the beasts. They tear apart rats for fun. Come, come. This way,” he replied. 

A man with a crown appeared next to the sorcerer in front of the cell. He wasn't quite so old but had a white beard and a regal countenance. 

“Look, your Radiance,” he said. “See how the beast is soothed? He clutches the specimen like a pet.” 

The king looked at the two of you with interest. 

“And you have a source for these…Omegas?” He asked. 

“Yes, your Radiance!” He said, clicking his long nails together with delight. “I've found a world through the ether filled with Omegas. This is only the first. I can bring many here. Once we pair the Alphas, they will become useful.” 

“They’d better be,” the King snarled, obviously annoyed. “This whole project has been a mess from the start. You promised me super soldiers, and what I’ve gotten is uncontrollable monsters. Can the thing speak?” 

You frowned at his description of Riordan as a “thing." He was monstrous, yes, but he had been human once- he still had a soul. 

“Riordan,” the sorcerer snapped. “Greet your king!” 

Riordan let out a low growl that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. 

The King looked unimpressed. 

“If you don’t cooperate, I will take your new pet from you,” Elias hissed. “You want to keep them, don’t you? If you are good, you will not be separated. You’ll have good food and sunlight. You’ll leave this dungeon, but you must speak like a man, not a beast.” 

Riordan bared his teeth, but you patted his hand. 

“Speak to him, Riordan,” you whispered. “It’s a step forward. You’re not alone now. We’ll figure this out together.” 

His jade eyes flicked to you and then back up to the King. 

“Your- Your Highness…apologies,” he ground out. 

The King smiled and patted Elias on the back. 

“Excellent work,” he said. “Secure the beast and bring him to our war camp for a demonstration in the morning.” 

He looked a little sickly. 

“I can’t spend another moment in this filth,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and marching out of the door.

The sorcerer looked at the two of you hungrily. 

“You heard the King,” he said. “Time to return to the surface. Guards! Bring the collars!” 

A handful of guards appeared holding two metal collars. One big and one small. 

“Go in there and apply them!” He told them, and they all looked horrified at one another. No one moved. 

“Go in now,” he snapped, clapping. “you're going to comply, aren't you, Riordan? Because you want to keep the Omega?” 

Riordan narrowed his eyes, but you squeezed his hand. 

“It’ll be okay,” you said. “Maybe they'll give us some real food.” 

You tried to sound positive. Riordan looked at you, then lowered his head. 

“I will comply,” he said. 

The guards slowly entered the cell, the one holding the collars first. 

“Don't mind the collars,” the sorcerer told you. “They are a good thing. They keep you tied together with an invisible tether so your enemies can't separate you on the battle field.” 

“What else do they do?” You asked, not believing the sorcerer for a moment. 

“They also have the same energy as the bars,” he said. “If either of you misbehave, you can be punished.” 

You looked warily at the soldier holding your collar, but you reasoned that the collar may be easier to escape than the dungeon, so you remained still as he snapped it around your neck. The cold metal was uncomfortable but could be tolerated. 

The soldiers were eager to get out of Riordan's way as he rose, stepping heavily towards the gate with you in his arms. 

The sorcerer looked pleased. 

“Now to the baths,” he said. “You can't perform for the King stinking like you do.” 

Riordan gave you an uncertain look, and you nodded just slightly. 

“It's okay,” you whispered. “Won't a bath be nice?” 

You watched his jaw twitch, but he followed silently behind Elias as he led you past the thick iron door. The baths were across the building you were in. Outside of the dungeon, it was quite nice, with potted plants and paintings of flowering meadows decorating the stone walls. Sun filtered in through leaded glass windows, giving you a glimpse at the land you’d been summoned to. From what you could see, there were more stone buildings with people going about their days. 

“You have thirty minutes,” a guard barked sharply, drawing your attention back to the task at hand. 

He opened a door, and steam scented like lavender drifted out. The room was tiled with a blue and white motif, with a large blue pool in the center. Riordan set you down, attempting to lift your shirt from your back.

“Hey! I can do that!” you snapped. 

His eyes flashed, but not red, a rich gold, and he looked contrite.

“I can’t help it, Omega. My instincts tell me to tend to you.” 

You huffed. You weren’t sure what to make of this dynamic, but Riordan seemed bent on caring for you. If it kept the red away, you figured you ought to allow it. 

“Fine! Go on, but ask next time.” 

You eyed him carefully. 

“I’m not used to your size.” 

A smirk grew on his lips, and a deep noise rumbled in his chest. It sounded like…a happy cat, but deeper. More of a rumble, like thunder from far away. 

“Are you purring?” you ventured. 

“I think it is natural to calm my Omega…the wizard told me many things I didn’t understand until now.”

He tugged your shirt from you, then your pants, and paused, his fingers skimming the underwear you wore. Though you weren’t used to being naked in front of a stranger, you couldn’t bathe in your underwear. You leveled him with a stern stare.  

“Continue, but don’t get any bright ideas.” 

He nodded, slipping the small garments off of you. When you were ready, he dipped you in the hot water, following close behind when he’d removed his own clothes. The second he got settled in the water, he scooped you into his lap and started to scrub you. 

“What are you doing now?” you rasped. 

Underneath you, you could feel all of his power; the massive muscles, hard planes against your soft skin, and something…large poking you in the back. 

“You smell…like strange things. I will wash you, then I will scent you.”

You figured that if he had a better-than-average sense of smell, he would probably be able to smell the cheap soap you used, which was filled with chemicals. 

“What does ‘scent you’ mean?” you asked as he lifted your arm. 

As the smell of rot from the dungeon washed away, you were suddenly aware of a sweet cinnamony smell coming from Riordan. 

“I need to mark my Omega, so others know you’re mine,” he said, seeming proud that he could recall such facts. “It will not hurt.” 

“Oh…Okay…” 

He was very methodical, making sure every inch of skin was cleaned. When he was satisfied you were spotless, his nose dipped to the crook of your neck, and he purred. 

“You smell so good, Omega,” he breathed into your skin. 

The thick shaft pressed against your body thickened and hardened, drawing breath from your lungs. 

“We need to clean you,” you stammered, swirling around to straddle him. 

His cock patted your most sensitive spot, and it took some effort on your part not to look down. He watched you with wide eyes as you carefully scrubbed his hair with the lavender-smelling soap sitting on the rim of the tub. When you rinsed it away, you found he had pretty wheat-colored hair. Scraping it back with your fingers, he looked a bit more tidy, though he needed a trim. He didn’t wait even a minute after you were done helping him scrub the years of dungeon nastiness away, snuggling into your neck, running the spot just under his ear down your arms. 

You yelped, surprised at his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Riordan!” you squealed, and he looked up, his cheeks ruddy. 

“I have to rub my scent glands on you,” he informed you matter-of-factly before diving back in.

You tried to ignore the heat that pooled in your stomach as his cinnamon scent filled your lungs. Your breath drew short, and every sensitive spot on your body perked up under his touch. You weren’t sure if you were compatible with the giant, but your body certainly believed you were. As he rubbed himself against you, his cock gingerly brushed your stomach. Closing your eyes, you desperately tried to think about anything but sex. 

Riordan’s head rose suddenly, cocked to the side. 

“The guard is back,” he muttered. 

A moment later said guard appeared in the door, grimacing. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going at it in the bath, fucking beasts.” 

“W-we weren’t-” you started to say, but your words were cut off by a growl. 

“Don’t shout at my mate,” Riordan grumbled as he scooped you out of the water. Standing at his full height, looking down on the guard you saw the annoying intruder’s eyes widen, and he took an instinctive step back. Clearing his throat, he waved the pile of clothes he held at him. 

“Come on,” he tried to assert, his voice cracking. “The King is waiting.” 

You quickly dressed in the light cotton pants and loose shirt he’d provided, having to pause for a moment so Riordan could refresh his scent on the new items. 

Though you could walk, you found your legs swinging in the air as your Alpha tucked you in the crook of his arm. 

“Where are we going?” you whispered to him as the guard led you out of the building. 

“We are at war…or we were. To a war camp, I assume.” 

Around you, a pleasant, medieval village buzzed with activity. As you passed, people gaped at Riordan’s size. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the tallest among them. Your eyes danced around the archaic scene with wonder. Where had this wizard spirited you off to? 

Ahead of you, a shrill grinding noise drew your attention. With five guards on each size manning lever handles the massive gate of the city opened to a sprawling wilderness. An overgrown cobblestone road cut through the forested hills, flowers blooming through the cracks in the stones. Dappled sunlight spotted the forest floor, lighting falling leaves like sparkling emeralds. In Riordan’s arms you felt him suck in a heavy breath. 

“Nice to breathe fresh air, huh?” you asked and he smiled. 

Despite the collars, this was far preferable to the stinking dungeon. Your body shook with the pleased purr emanate from his chest. Hours passed, marching along the winding trail. You could only assume it was early spring by the crisp, cool air and the early blooming daffodils growing from every spot of sun. 

As you turned a corner Riordan grunted and you glanced up to see him frowning. 

“What is it?” you whispered. 

“I can smell the camp from here. It’s much closer than it used to be…not a good sign.” 

You blinked at him. 

“Do you think the war has been going on for all the years you’ve been captive?” 

He nodded, jaw ticking, as he held you close.  

“I smell blood and rotting flesh.” 

You swallowed hard, sniffing the air. Your scene of smell was not any better than it had been and all that you caught was Riordan’s cinnomin and cardamom musk. The Omega emerging inside of you had you cuddling your head into his chest. It was hard to believe you were some magical creature, designed to compliment this massive beast, but your body and instincts were already caught up. 

His purr soothed your anxiety and you wanted to roll around in his scent. You wouldn’t have liked them under any circumstances, but the longer you bonded with Riordan the more bloodthirsty thoughts about his captors filled your mind. 

Freedom, your Omega crooned, Freedom to mate, to nest, to rear his pups. 

Before you could catch yourself, you were fisting his shirt, the urge to rearrange it to your liking driving your fingers. 

“Soon, Omega,” he purred. “Soon you can make your nest.” 

The impatient, emerging Omega huffed at him. He chuckled, allowing himself a moment of amusement before his attention returned to the road ahead. The sounds of metal clanging and shouting soldiers signalled your arrival. 

The camp was an ugly, dirty place. Smokey bonfires smothered your breaths and soldiers, some clearly injured, covered in blood scuttled around. Your guard guided the two of you through the hastily erected tents. Some were merely a bit of leather stretched between some odd poles. The one you stopped at was the finest of them all, made with lengths of canvas and gold and silver threads. 

“Gold threads at a war camp? A waste,” Riordan scoffed quietly, following your eyes. “Money would be better spent on bandages and rations. The enemy doesn’t care for such indulgences.” 

You blinked up at him. 

“You know a lot about war?” 

His eyes narrowed as he thought. 

“I believe I ranked captain when I was taken.” 

“Wait here,” the guard ordered before he entered the tent. A moment later the king emerged surrounded by his entourage. 

He smiled up at the both of you, not a friendly smile. It was calculating and cool. 

“Enjoy the walk, creature?” he asked, his lips carrying a smirk. “Nice to be out in the sun again, isn’t it?” 

You felt the growl building in your Alpha’s chest and patted him to calm him. He glanced down at you and you flicked your head just slightly to tell him not to fight this. Instead, he gave the King a half bow, careful not to jostle you. 

Pleased, the King smacked his hands together. 

“Now is the time to work for your supper,” he announced. “You’ll be accompanying a regiment to flank the enemy in the hills. If you make it back and do as your told, there will be food for your return.” 

“We will not be fed now?” you asked. “He will need energy to fight your enemy.” 

The King scowled at you and one of his guards slammed his spear into the dirt.

“Learn to show your king proper respect,” he snarled. 

You felt Riordan’s arm tighten around you, but he gritted out an apology. 

“Please excuse my Omega. They are not used to our ways.” 

He set you down, patting your head. 

“Stay here where it’s safe. I’ll be back soon.” 

The King laughed outloud. 

“Oh no, your little Omega will be going with you. I’ll have no mishaps if you go rogue.” 

At that Riordan growled. 

“It’s too dangerous. They are not a soldier!” 

This time the guard rubbed a strange crystal he had around his neck and Riordan spasmed as his collar shocked him. 

“Silence creature, you’ll do as your King wills!” 

You tugged on his shirt, asking to be picked back up. King’s edict or no, you didn’t want to leave Riordan’s side. He gave you a wary glance before he scooped you back up, panting from the shock. 

“Aye, your majesty,” he finally said on a heavy breath. 

The King gave Riordan a haughty look, high on the idea that this creature served him, only. 

“Escort them to the battlefield!” he announced before returning to the comfort of his tent. 

The soldiers around you looked wary, be it from Riordan’s great size or what lay ahead, you couldn’t tell. However, this time you smelled your destination long before you arrived. The scent of death was on the wind. 

As you drew closer, the scent wound around the sound of screaming and metal clanging. In either realm, you’d never seen a battle before and it was nothing like the movies. All of the parts were there, dead bodies, swords, shields, sweating soldiers, but it was all so much more. At the back, some captain shouted orders, but nothing about this seemed orderly. The soldiers had long broken whatever formation they had been in and it was clear the enemy had them pressed. 

“This is no good. The King will be overtaken by nightfall,” Riordan whispered to you. 

The captain seemed acutely aware of this fact, a bit of hope in his expression when Riordan appeared. 

“Into the fray beast!” he shouted. “Drive them back or we’ll all be skewered!” 

Needing his hands, Riordan reluctantly put you down. 

“Stay close, Omega,” he murmured, his large jaw setting. 

Your heart pattered in your chest, holding on the the back of his shirt as he waded into the bloody mess. Enemies flew at him swords raised, but he threw them back with little more than a wave of his arm. You tried to stifle your screams, lest he be distracted, shuffling behind him. The enemy was thick, bearing down on the two of you from seeming every direction. 

You jerked a dagger loose from one of the bodies you past, swinging it at a soldier who’d gotten too close. 

The enemy’s face was hidden by silver armor carrying a massive sword. A desperate scream emerged from your chest as he bore down on you with the sharp end of the blade. Riordan turned to come to your rescue, but it was too late. The sword made contact with the collar around your neck, knocking you sideways. Riordan roared, grabbing the soldier and ripping his sword arm off. You gasped in the bloody mud of the battlefield, prepared to meet you maker. Only, you didn’t die…in fact, you weren’t hurt at all. The collar around your neck slipped off you, sliced clean in half. 

Free, you sat up, eyes wide with confusion. Riordan, however, was quick and sharp, prying the sword from the disembodied arm’s grasp. 

“Elven metal,” he gasped, green eyes glowing. 

Before you could question him, you’d been tossed over his shoulder and he made a B-line to the forest’s edge. In the chaos, your guards hadn’t even noticed, busy fighting back the enemy the best they good. As soon as you were safely past the treeline, he turned the sword, which looked like little more than a cooking knife in his hand, to his own neck. The collar popped off with little trouble and Riordan massaged the sore skin where he’d been burned. 

“What now?” you gasped, still eyeing the battle behind you with concern. 

“Now we run,” he announced. 

Before you could respond, he picked you back up and sprinted into the forest. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as trees flew by. 

“The mountains, it ought to be safe there.” 

There was little you could do but hold on tight and peek over his shoulder to be sure you weren’t followed. You must have dozed off, because you woke in a strange place…on a bed. The sheets were itchy wool, but warm enough. In fact, you were quite warm. Blinking you looked around. A cheery fire roared in a stone fireplace and the scent of the stew boiling in a pot filled your lungs. You found yourself in a little cabin. There was only one room, but it came furnished with the bed you were on, a rocking chair, and a small table with a log bench. 

“Riordan?” you called, though you were the only person in the room. 

A few moments later the door opened. You could see it was snowing outside and a puff of icy air hit your face. 

Your alpha brushed snow off his shoulders before he smiled at you. 

“You slept a long time Omega,” he chuckled, handing you a pile of what looked like linens. 

“What’s this?” you asked. “Where are we?” 

“In the mountains.” 

You looked down at the pile he’d set on your lap. 

“What are these?’ 

“Some blankets for your nest. They’re not very nice, but I’ll get you better ones soon.” 

“Where did they come from?” 

“The orc village next door. After I dropped you off here, I went looking for food and stumbled on some very surprised orcs.

They have no great love of humans, so when I explained our situation, they asked if I would join their patrol in exchange for some supplies to get us started. With my size, they see me as one of their own, I suspect.” 

“They don’t mind we’re staying in this cabin?” 

He shook his head. 

“It’s a patrol cabin, we’d be staying in it anyway. We can stay as long as we like, or move into the village if we want.” 

He grinned, pleased he could provide for you. Your Omega side purred in your head and without thinking you started organizing the furs and blankets to form a proper nest. It came instinctively to you, where everything ought to go for maximum comfort. While you were busy with that, Riordan shuffled about the cabin, straightening things and finally spooning two bowls of stew for you. 

“C’mon Omega,” he said, setting your soup on the table. “You can fuss more with your nest after dinner.” 

"Your eyes are still green? I thought you'd go red without me."

His eyebrows jumped as he considered that thought.

"I think with your scent all over me, it held it off. Perhaps it will work even better when I've given you my bite."

Your cheeks warmed at the prospect of his teeth on your neck.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the warm food filled your stomach. After all you’d been through, you felt safe. The cabin was already filled with Riordan’s comforting scent. Belly full and your nest on it’s way to a proper state, your Omega mind turned it’s attention to other matters. Your eyes drifted over Riordan’s strong shoulders, down to his thick hands. You’d always liked hands and his long strong fingers, lined with stiff veins sent heat pooling in your core. 

He looked up from his soup suddenly, sniffing the air and giving you a wicked smile. 

“Are you ready for me, Omega?” he asked and you didn’t have to wonder what he meant. 

Your body already knew. Purring, he abandoned his meal and gently set you in your nest, examining your features closely. Your cheeks burned under his careful inspection and some feral part of you wanted to tear off his clothes. 

His green eyes flashed gold and a smug smirk spread across his lips. 

“Present yourself to me, Omega,” he purred. “Invite me into your nest.” 

Those words in his grumbly bass, flicked a switch inside you. Your logical self slipped into a fog of lust, your instincts telling you to undress. With trembling hands you tugged your shirt over your head, then slipped off your pants, finally your damp underwear went. As nature told you, you scooted to the back of your nest to make room for his big body, then tipped your head to expose your neck to him. 

He thundered his approval with a deep growl. 

“Sweet little Omega,” he hummed, crawling across the sheets to you like a hungry panther. Your first kiss was soft and sweet, but was soon followed by his greedy mouth, eating you up. Your tongues and teeth clashed. He seemed desperate to taste you, pushing you onto your back to pin you to the bed. 

“Let me out,” he growled, his husky demands making your spine arch. 

Your most secret place wept for him, smearing your desire across the blankets you’d arranged. You carefully unfastened his pants, his cock bobbing to greet you. Precum dribbled down the length of it and you gave it a curious stroke. It was so big, hot, and ready for you. Under your touch, he hissed in pleasure, egging you on. It seemed impossible that that would fit inside of you, but you wanted to try. You wanted to please him, seduce him, so he’d give you his bite. 

The concept echoed in the haze enveloping your mind. 

His bite? He’s going to bite me. 

You weren’t afraid. You knew in some primordial corner of your consciousness that his bite was good. It was exclusive. With his bite you were his and he was yours. 

When your gentle teasing became too much, he flipped you on your stomach, big hand fisting your hair. 

“You were made for me, omega, but I won’t force you,” he informed you. “Tell me now. Do you want my bite?” 

“Uh-huh,” you murmured, eyelashes fluttering at the pressure on your scalp. 

“Be a good Omega and say the words,” he chided. 

“Yes, Alpha…I want your bite,” you whispered. 

“When we are like this, you will always call me Alpha.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you moaned, body lighting up as you did what was natural to you and submitted. 

He let out a possessive chuff and you felt him nudge your legs further apart to accommodate his width. You were already plenty wet, but Riordan needed his scent in your most secret place, spreading his precum on your clenched channel.

His sticky fingers drifted over your body, covering you in his essence. You were his and he needed you to know it. 

“All of this is mine,” he hummed in somewhat of a trance, stuffing his fingers into your mouth so you could taste him. 

Unable to speak, you whimpered and sucked, the flavor of his spice on your tongue. While the fingers of one hand pushed into your mouth, the other tested your slick tunnel. Your muscles clenched at his intrusion, pleasure and need forcing you to push your hips back to seek your pleasure. 

“Good omega,” he purred, pushing another finger inside, “You’re going to take me just fine.” 

After thrusting and scissoring until your arms collapsed under you, your face pressed into the pillow and you ass sticking up, you felt the round head of his cock pushing against your core. 

“Relax. You can take it.” 

Tears slid down your cheeks as he entered you. He was large, extremely large, but your body performed some kind of Omega magic, stretching to accommodate him. He let out a gutteral grunt as he bottomed out inside. 

“So tight and hot.” 

He gave you one small thrust, to test you. 

“Do you like that?” 

“Yes, alpha!” you wailed into the pillow. 

You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like the sense of sheer domination you felt with his massive cock moving in you. Your pleasure was his, your body was his, your mind was his. 

“Show me your neck.” 

You tipped your head to bare your skin to him. He settled a hand on the spot where your throat and shoulder came together, holding you open for him as he slowly revved up his thrusts. With every ragged drive your mind unwraveled. 

Your alpha was fucking you. Your body gave him pleasure. Your cheeks burned with a sense of Omega accomplishment. You’d lived your whole life not knowing that this was what you were made for. Your heady mewls filled the little cabin as he rutted you. He curled his hands around your body, playing with your sex with his fingers. His touch drove you deeper and deeper into madness and you whimpered for more, pleading and begging into the pillow. 

He pushed you higher and higher until you were ready to implode. Seeing the time was right, Riordan bared his teeth, sinking them into your neck. It was impossible to tell if he timed it just right to bite as you came or if the bite caused you to cum, but it really didn’t matter. Suddenly you were in the stars, a sensation beyond an orgasm rolling through you along with the heat of your Alpha’s cum spilling into you. 

It felt good, and right, and explosive. You let out a yelp as colors sparkled in your vision and pressure built in your channel. 

“Wh-what?” you could only stammer. 

“Shhh, shhh, Omega, all is well. You’ve taken my knot.” 

He rocked the engorged rock into you as he stroked the most pleasurable spot with your fingers. The pressure turned into bliss and you melted into him as he licked the bite on your neck. 

“You did so good, taking my bite and my knot,” he purred, calming you. “You are a perfect Omega…so perfect.” 

He rolled on his side, smoothly taking you with him so as not to disturb the shaft linking the two of you. 

“I’m yours now?” you squeaked, thoughts still scattered. 

It was the only thing you could put together. 

“Yes, sweet one. You’re mine.” 

You let your body relax, his scent perfuming your nest. You were safe, marked, and all was as it should be. 

Bluesky -- Carrd -- Commissions -- Instagram -- Threads -- Subscribestar -- Art

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

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[bowieandqueen11]

Strawberry and Black Tea / Sanji Imagine

Request: for the fluffy sanji request-- maybe sanji and the reader end up sleeping in each other's rooms one night because its hard for them to sleep apart. reader gives sanji a good night kiss and he just falls into a lovesick puddle on the floor.

Something short and sweet because this idea is so so lovely, thank you anon!! :)

Warning: mentions of child abuse!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes @suuho.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

It was the Iron Mask that had left Sanji with such a distaste for the dark.

Even now, lying tossing and turning in his bunk on the Going Merry, the dark starlight that creeped through the lone porthole seemed to do nothing but shroud his eyes in a long-suppressed misery. It reminded him far too much of home. Of his father. Of nights spent trembling in dank corners: nothing but the touch of flimsy cobwebs against his outreached hands, and the ratchet of his own voice cawing off the empty stone chamber to ease the frightened child.

Until his paranoid eyes couldn’t tell of the receding monstrous shadow shrivelling up the tower was the receding form of his father, or the unyielding loosening of shrill’s death fingers rasping uneasily across the stone wall by his cage, finally come to fulfil her promise to take him away.

She grew closer and closer, until her liripipe seemed to crow through the bars as she leant down through the shadows to kiss his forehead.

He started scrambling back desperately along the dirty dust, still too young and inexperienced with the true hardships of his life to try and face them head on. Instead he buried his head into his crossed arms, tried his hardest to calm his panting breath, closed his eyes and squeezed. It was the only way, he thought in that tumultuous moment, it was the only at he would be able to hold onto his sanity. To pretend it was you. To pretend it was you. To believe it was you.

A rat scurried out of a hole between cracked shackles, sniffing the air as it noticed Sanji cowering in the corner: the same boy who had showed the rodent such kindness only e weeks before, feeding it leftover scraps of his mother’s favourite crumble, trying his best to clear the dish before his father realised it was missing. The poor thing ran over to Sanji’s shoe, it’s tiny claws pinching into the forgotten prince’s skin as it raised its little body up closer to him. But to that child - oh, that poor child - it was like bony fingernails biting into his bone and extruding coarse chills straight to the bone.

She had come. The wrong person had come. So he did what any young child would do. He started screaming.

He screamed your name. He screamed for his ma, until the screams died, choked by the wails sticking in his throat. Then he whimpered, clawing at the metal screwed against his cheeks until his fingernails were left stunted, jagged, bloodied.

He thought about how alone he was, but realised quickly that wasn’t what made him so sad. He thought about you: how you would react, how heartbroken you would be when his father announced to the world that the young Prince has perished in a terrible accident. He imagined your tear streaked face as you would watch the faux funeral procession parade in a cheerful solemnity down past the main market and into the sea, stealing away into the alleyway and seeing how alone you were.

Most of all, he felt guilty. Guilty that this was all his fault. That he had proved his brothers right. He was weak. He had destroyed his mother. He had ruined you. He was weak. And so he crumpled into a ball, falling onto his side and allowing the sweet embrace of the shadows to lap over him.

His cries had quickly fallen into pitiful whimpers. Then quiet sobs, jolting his body forward in convulsions that had left him gasping for breath every few minutes or so, only broken by the almost angelic sound of the iron wrought door being shoved unsteadily open, and the pained whisper from the top of the stairs. ’Sanji? Sanji! Where the- ow- are you?!’

'Y/-Y/n?' He clambered to his knees, and shoved his arms desperately through the bars, as if he could levitate you down towards him. 'I'm here! I'm here - please! Y/n!' His little fists began to bang on the bars as he scraped up to lean on his knees. 'Help me - get me out, please! She's going to kill me!'

It took you less than thirty seconds to scale down the remaining steps, nearly flying chin first down into the dirt. You didn't care though: not when Sanji's fingernails sliced desperately into your skin and burrowed into the meat of your arm, tugging your forehead against the cool metal of his own. You did your best to cup his face between the clunky mask, pressing your fingers down to his neck and pulling him even closer to you. 'It's alright - it's alright. I'm here. I'm going to get you out of here, Sanj. We're going to run, we're going to get away.'

He refused to let you go, even as you bit your lower lip in concentration and wiggled into your pocket to pull out a stash of bobby pins you had pilfered from Vinsmoke Reiju when you had slipped into the castle. Poor Sanji nearly flies backwards onto his behind when you finally manage to click the locked gate open, yet the realisation hardly seems to dawn on him; he's leapt on you in a second flat, knees knocking the wind out of your stomach as he tumbles his torso against your awaiting hug.

'You came', he heaved out between sobs, shoving his grimacing face into the throbbing pulse point on your neck, 'you came back for me... why would you come back for me.'

The absolute dejection in the final warble of his desperate plea made you bite down on your tongue so harshly, you had to shove it against the roof of your mouth for a moment to stop yourself from spluttering on blood. 'Because, Sanj... because you're my best friend. And I love you. And we made a promise, didn't we? We're going to go find the All Blue, but we're only going to do it together. Not one without the other, right?'

He head bobs quickly, desperately. Shaking fingers latch tighter into your back, and although he wants nothing more than to grab onto your fingers and fly to freedom up that winding staircase, he slides his legs to the side and comes to sit awkwardly on your lap like a frail bird. The soft tip of his nose tickles the shell of your ear as he whispers: 'like black tea and strawberry?'

You snort, but nod your head against the side of his curls, tightening your grip around the shaking expanse of his spine. 'Yes chef, like black tea and strawberry. Even though that sounds absolutely disgusting.' His laugh- god, his laugh was so warming, even if the sound cracks, hoarse and low as his face balls up. What was less welcome, though, were the few pearly tears that slipped past the cracks slats covering his eyes and began to trace down an old bruised hollow that lay sharp and gaunt on his neck.

'I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry-', he starts to panic again, one eye blinking open as he stares into the inky depths of the umbral shade gathering over your heads. 'This is my fault. It's my fault we have to leave.'

'No.' You grab onto his shirt, nearly making him wince, but both of you refuse to unlatch from the other. 'No. This is not your fault. This will never be your fault, and I don't want you to think that for a second.'

The authoritativeness behind your shaking words was almost enough to make him believe you.

He nods slowly, but you can tell he's doing it just to placate you. 'I love you too, by the way', he sniffles, finally leaning back enough so he could wipe what he deemed as an unsightly amount of snot away from his nose. More than you know. More than he could even put into words. More than his young, frightful heart could even yet understand. He's too bashful to look you in the eye, instead skimming his eyes quickly over the torn threads of his kneecap, but finally allowing himself a respite of calm in the knowledge that the love he had been so desperately begging for hadn't abandoned him.

Before the adrenaline could rush out of his body, he leant forward with his head still bowed, and kissed your cheek as best he could in the darkness.

You hadn't left him. You hadn't: you never would. The revelation seems to shift the world around him, coaxing him into believing the sweet twilight sleeting across his eyes was sunlight instead; even though he still felt like his life was spent as a coin flipping through the air, so unsure of where it will land - of where it belongs - of the choices it will wrought, it felt a little easier afterwards, knowing he would eventually land. That it was your hand that would catch him.

He still hated the dark. And he still loved you more than life itself. Which is why you weren't surprised to find yourself running around your room at nearly one in the morning, trying your best to discreetly gather your bed sheets and sneak off towards the boy's cabin.

Before you could even finish gathering your pillow into your arms, the melodic rapt of Sanji's knuckles had rung out through the door. It took you less than thirty seconds to slide across the planks and fling it open, but it took the poor chef a lot longer to catch his breath and try to look more put together; he was doing his best to look suave by the way he was leaning his elbow against the doorframe, but the wind swept hair gave away the fact that he had come running over the side of the ship to get to you. The soft pant of his breath, the ruddy cheeks, the slight spasm of his abdominal muscles through his half-unbuttoned dress shirt, the scratch of his teeth against his inner lip line: you knew his tell-tale sings, his idiosyncrasies far too well. The man was flustered beyond belief, even if he did his best to cock his head and beam down at you.

What really gave it away - what really, really gave it away, though, was the fact that he literally had to clasp his hands together in front of his chest and wring them to stop them launching forward and grabbing onto you with the cloying, overwhelming power of eight octopus tentacles.

You almost have to shove your hand against your mouth to stifle your laugh at the way he flicked his head back to move the hair away from his eye: to anyone else, it would have seemed like an innocent tick. But he knew, and more importantly you knew too, that it was just so his glistening eyes could wander across your face, as if the lines and marks of your face mapped out the most beautiful treasure in all the seas.

'Well, my strawberry, I hope I didn't wake you from your beauty sleep. Not that you need it! But I, I was hoping, if you were to grace me with such luck, that I may come in-'

Before he can even finish, you've grabbed the knot of his tie and have hauled him across the door line like a fisherman reeling in his hook. Sanji goes flying, landing safely in your open arms, and flopping his back down pleasantly into your hammock. Sanji's eyes widen as he comes sliding down the material towards you, headfirst, stopped only when his chest does the job for him. His arms thump clumsily around your back, using his fall as an excuse to pull you as physically close to him as he can. He huddles up against you, his hand spreading across your shoulder blade and guiding your ear down to rest comfortably just above his right pec. You flush, pretending you don't feel the firm ripple of his tense muscle: don't hear the pounding shudder of his tell-tale heart.

'I'll take that as a yes, ma chérie.'

Distracted by the way your arm falls around his stomach, idly reaching up to curl back the stray edges of his fringe behind the corner of his eye again, his legs inch closer... and closer... and closer... until his left one has plunked down above your own. You have to bury your head into his neck to stop yourself from laughing at how incarnadine his face spreads, warm pink waves radiating off his cheeks as you lift up your knees and slide your free leg in between the heavy weight of his thighs. Bless his heart, it must have taken some exertion to hold it the way he did, making sure not to place his full weight on you, but just enough that the contact was physically there.

'You know', Sanji starts, once he has calmed his heart from beating so rapidly he feared it may have flopped out through his throat, 'Zeff used to give me a kiss goodnight.'

You lift your head to stare at him incredulously. 'No he didn't. I was there for only... uh...', you lift the arm hanging over the soft skin of his bellybutton to ostentatiously count on your fingers, waving them in front of his face. 'Hm, look at that - fifteen years!?'

He leans his head down until his chin is tucked into his neck, and does his best to try and hide the way his lips are warbling into a grin; he tries to play it off as him finding your antics amusing, as he strokes his fingers tenderly over the warm cotton on your shoulder, but inside he's just so beyond giddy to know that you remembered. To know that you had been together so long. To know that after all this time, after all the two of you had been through, he would gladly dredge through the unspeakable caliginosity again, if it meant he could always arrive at this moment. If it meant, no matter what his life threw at him, he could spend every moment of it by your side.

Even if the shadows are juddering up the walls of the girl's cabin too: even if your stroking fingers can't mask the memories of death's sharp knuckles stretching out across the walls. Even if he were to land, right now, in the waves: if he were to capsize and drown, he would be happy. He would be happy, because it was your hand instead. Your hand.

Too timid still, too apprehensive to admit that which had been a heavy weight holding down the flight of his sweet heart, he hides his love behind canorous tease.

'Yeah, well, Zeff did it when he could be arsed. Which I’m pretty sure was never.'

You snort, and he delights at the sound that he had drawn out. His vice like grip on your side tightens, but you decide better than to tease him for the way he begins squirming himself against you. He finally settles properly on his side, the bridge of his nose so dangerously close to yours that you can feel the shallow warmth of his breath brush over your bottom lip.

'Well-', he starts, trying to distract himself from your proximity. He was failing horribly, of course, because his eyes kept falling down to stare blankly at the seam of your lips. 'This does sure beat sleeping on the dungeon floor, even if we do have to put up with Luffy's snoring.'

'Hm, the dungeon wasn't too bad. Cosy', you say teasingly, letting your finger dance down the shell of his ear, pointing the tip against the jut of his chin and lifting his gaze with a smirk.

'How'd you figure that, sweetheart?' The feel of your finger against his skin, no matter how miniscule the touch, was enough to make the fibres of his body burn with such a want that it almost scared him.

'Because... it was the first place you ever kissed me.'

Sanji starts, eyes widening as he feels his limbs turn to stone.

He can't hide in the shadows anymore. Now, he has to come into the light. Has to let himself be free.

'Yeah, well strawberry', he wets his bottom lip with a dart of his tongue, and folds himself further down the hammock so his knees are drawn warmly up against your own. The shaking of his torso is only overshadowed by the widening of his eyes, so full of deep wonder the dams might have burst and drowned you if he hadn't spent so years cautiously restraining himself. You draw a finger down the pulse point of his neck, and he feels that resolve weaken.

He feels like that frightened boy again, but he knows it has to be now. He knows he's been lucky to have had the luxury of borrowed time, but the bell has tolled: the bill has come due, and now he must admit the truth of his life - of his soul - of his heart, for he doesn't know when it will become too late.

He wanted to kiss you. God, he had wanted to kiss you so badly for fifteen years it hurt. Now, now he was going to create his own light: he was going to thrive, in spite of it all. He was going to allow that child to live. The cage was open. He was free. His choices were decided by nobody now but by his own ruling, his own compassion, and he had wasted far too many years training himself to be sceptical, precise, composed.

'... If you may be so kind as to permit it... I think this beautiful ship might end up being the second.' He leans his torso forward, and after a bashful burn flickers over his cheeks, he squeezes his eyes shut and plants a wet kiss against your cheek, just like he had done all those years before.

He suddenly becomes hyperaware of it all: of the closeness of your thigh against his own: slick, naked, vulnerable below your pyjama shorts. Your warm breath, inching closer and closer to his trembling mouth as he juts his head back to look warily at you, so afraid he's messed everything up.

But then you surprise him; you rush forward, overwhelming and crushing in the way your lips pliantly slide over his own, licking against the inside of his bottom lip as it drops open, breathlessly.

He had been waiting for this - over and over since the two of you were children. This thought - the idea that he would finally get here was the only thing that had kept him grounded. Kept him sane. And so he kissed you back: heartily, heavily, with a slipping mouth awaiting your tongue, and clawing fingers coming up to rapt into your cheeks as if you were something fleeting: as if he were still spinning in mid-air, waiting for the shadows to snuff the light out again.

When you finally find the strength, the resilience to pull away, neither of you seem to be able to muster the courage to just finally admit the truth you had both always known. Sanji, instead, looks youthfully shy as he tries to hide his wanting - god, so longing gaze behind his fringe once more, although his tongue can't help but prod against his bottom lip as if in disbelief.

'Like strawberry and black tea, right?', he finally asks against the side of your mouth, nudging his nose against your own and smiling fondly.

'Like strawberry and black tea.'

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After your adventure at the bar, you only have the remainder of the weekend with Bradley before he's taking off once again. You both make the most of that time, but an unpleasant surprise lingers as he leaves with his duffle bag and a new notebook. You just hope he can return with a successful mission under his belt.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, pregnancy discussion, fluff, smut, spanking

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

It was late Friday night. Bradley was leaving on Monday for the top secret special mission, and he might end up missing his birthday with you. Your parents were planning to come visit in July. You'd just had your husband pick you up at the bar during a sexy role playing experiment. And now you were on all fours on your bed with him balls deep inside you.

Honestly, the evening just kept getting better; he was giving you everything you wanted tonight. You got to witness first hand the way he picked you up at the bar by combining his old school tactics with the new things that he knew would really appeal to you specifically. 

And now he had seamlessly switched from being your sweet, loving Daddy to being the Daddy who called you his bratty little slut. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes looked deep and possessive. His cheeks were flushed, and his expression looked a little mean. God, you were already starting to clench for him as he said, "I love my slutty little wife."

"Oh god," you moaned as he placed one rough hand on the back of your head and pushed your face down to the pillows. 

He leaned over your body, caging you in with his mouth next to your ear while he absolutely nailed you. "Knew you'd come home with me. Knew you'd be begging for my cock. You didn't even wear underwear tonight, that's how fucking bad you wanted it."

"Bradley," you gasped, ready to come as he smacked your ass and grabbed your hips with both hands and unloaded inside you for the second time tonight. 

"Jesus," he growled, his movements becoming jerky as you rocked back against him through your own orgasm. You slowly let your legs slide out from underneath your body, and he eased himself down so he was laying on top of you, panting for breath. "Am I hurting you?" he whispered, kissing your cheek as you turned your head to the side.

"No," you mumbled in a daze underneath his warm body with his cock still shoved up inside you. "Kind of comfy, actually."

"Okay," he replied as his cheek came to rest on yours. "And don't even think about asking for round three tonight. I'm fucking beat."

You knew better than to joke about his age. It was less than three weeks until his thirty-seventh birthday, and his confidence was still a little shaky after his last deployment. "I'm tired, too," you whispered. 

"Can't believe you wanted me to pick you up from the bar like that, Sweetheart," he murmured. "How long were you there before Ethan tried to make you his little snack?"

You laughed, but Bradley's weight on top of you stifled the movement. "About two minutes."

He shook his head. "An investment banker with a Ferrari? It's incredible you ever went for me at all."

You wiggled underneath him until he lifted himself into a push up position, sliding out of your pussy and holding himself still so you could roll over onto your back. "I'm always going to go for my Daddy," you whispered as he eased his body back down on top of yours. "He promised to take exceptional care of me." 

You ran your fingernails through his hair and along his scalp, and his eyes closed in pleasure immediately. "I always will." His lips were parted, his cheeks were flushed, and he looked so handsome as you kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry there were times I didn't. I'll keep doing better and better."

He would. And you were so thankful that you made it back to this point with him. You felt like you could tell him what was on your mind again, and you knew he was really listening. He wasn't hiding his feelings and concerns from you. The trust you felt was almost palpable, which was making every other part of your marriage right now exceptionally good. 

"I love you, Bradley." You whispered the words softly, like they were so precious they might break. Then you whispered them again, a little louder, like they were too important to hide.

Both of his hands were on your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks as his fingers pushed back along your hair. He brought his lips down to meet yours, and a few minutes later you whispered, "I thought you were too tired for round three."

------------------------

Bradley was in love with you and in love with everything about this weekend. He'd been more nervous than he anticipated when he got to One Trick Pony last night, but you'd been delighted by the role playing. It was easy to slip into a fantasy with you when he knew that his normal life and yours were waiting on the other side. And you knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

Now you were perched on his lap at the dining room table in just his rather threadbare UVA tee shirt, dousing the plate of breakfast in maple syrup. You fed him a bite of the stuffed French toast you made for him while you kissed his cheek. Bradley was physically exhausted today, and you and he hadn't even made it out of the bedroom until noon. Even then, he only came to the kitchen to feed Tramp who was whining non stop, and you offered to make him anything he wanted for breakfast. 

"Is it good?" you whispered before you tried a bite.

"Fucking delicious," replied before nibbling gently at the side of your neck. 

Your laughter rang out, and the sound was so pure and beautiful, he hated to bring up the conversation that needed to happen today. But after the French toast was eaten and the plate was left in the sink for him to take care of later, he led you and your second mug of coffee over to the couch. Bradley pulled you legs up onto his lap and kissed your knee. 

"Can we talk about my deployment?"

You eyed him up and down and said, "You mean your top secret special mission? When you say deployment, it sounds like it will go on for months, and I really hope you'll be back in time to celebrate your birthday with me."

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "Then can we talk about my top secret special mission, Sweetheart?"

"Yep," you replied with a smirk, and he really did have to appreciate how calm you seemed right now. It was making him feel calm, too.

"I'm leaving my wedding ring here with you. Just like last time. I'm taking the silicone one, even though I don't like it as much, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks for telling me." Your lips were hidden behind your mug, but Bradley could tell you were smiling. He'd fumbled things so badly last time in part by not reminding you he bought the placeholder ring. He was unwilling to go away in a similar fashion this time; his goal was to leave no doubt in your mind about him or anything else while he was gone.

"And I really might not be back before my birthday. That's barely two weeks from now, and I don't have any firm dates. I just hope they fly me back commercial again so I'm not sitting around waiting for a comanche to bring me home."

You set the mug on the coffee table and climbed onto his lap. "I know you might be gone longer, but I'm holding out hope anyway." The way you fit perfectly in his arms when your cheek was resting on his shoulder would never not amaze him. You snuggled in a little closer and said, "But just come back home to me, Roo."

He swallowed hard. The two of you had had so many conversations just like this one over the many months you'd been together and the many times he'd left for his work. He was just happy he'd be leaving on better terms this time. 

"You know I'll always fight for that, Baby Girl." He kissed your forehead. "Let's take Tramp for a walk down to the beach. It's kind of overcast today, so maybe it won't be as crowded." You nodded and started to stand up as Bradley said, "Oh, one more thing. When your parents let you know when they're coming out to visit, book them a hotel room. I don't care how much it costs, put it on the credit card."

You stood in front of him with your hands on your hips. "They can just stay here-"

"No."

"Oh come on, Bradley. We can have quiet sex!"

He shook his head. "Book the hotel room for them. And when I get home, we can talk about renovating the upstairs space into a usable bedroom or two. Because they will need to be a whole floor away with how loud you get. Or I'll never be able to look them in the eye again."

---------------------------

On Sunday, you were starting to feel a little melancholy. You had less than a day before you had to drop Bradley off in Miramar at five in the morning, and your anxious energy was creeping in. At least he seemed to want to be around you as much as you wanted to be around him. 

"Will you help me finish packing?" he asked, rubbing a big hand along your tattoo through your shirt while you stood at the open refrigerator. You pulled out the pack of chicken that you needed to have thawed so you could make dinner soon, and then spun around to face him. 

"What do you need help with?"

He shrugged. "Nothing really. Just thought it would be nice to have you in the bedroom with me while I organize everything."

"How are you this sweet?" you asked as you took him by the hand and led him down the hallway. Tramp was having a puppy dream in his little bed, so you quietly joined Bradley at his open duffle bag. You saw his neatly packed underwear, socks, shirts and uniform components. His travel sized toothbrush and razor were there, too, along with some photos of you and him together. 

"Am I missing anything I need?" he asked seriously, as he counted how many undershirts were in a stack. You carefully climbed onto the bed and pretended to pack yourself in the bag, and Bradley laughed quietly. "I fucking wish."

"It would be like the first time, when we were both sent out to the carrier together."

Bradley groaned as you sprawled out across the middle of the bed. "I only get Cyclone and Warlock this time. No sweet Baby Girl diligently waiting for my return."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as he climbed on the bed with you. "Don't you dare get shot down this time. And don't jump off the carrier deck either. And definitely don't get flustered by the young dipshits from Lemoore. Cyclone said you're one of the best, and you are."

Bradley let you collect him in your arms and he just inhaled your scent and absorbed your warmth. Then with a sigh, he removed his wedding band and handed it to you. "You can keep it safe for me," he whispered. 

"I'll have it with me when I pick you up. Wherever and whenever I pick you up."

Bradley eventually finished packing before he went to take a long shower and shave around his mustache while you made dinner. You kept telling him he needed a good night's sleep tonight. You weren't wrong, but he wanted to stay up and spend as much time with you as he could. He was about to tell you that he could sleep on the comanche, no problem, and that you should let him stay up all night with you. But when he walked into the kitchen in his clean boxer briefs, he was greeted by the most wonderful sight. 

Your back was to him, as you strained pasta at the sink, and the smell of Marry Me Rooster cooking was making him weak. You were wearing just your white Mrs. Bradshaw panties from the wedding night along with your I Love Meat apron. He couldn't see the embroidery on the front of your underwear, but he knew the way the pretty satin fabric bunched around your thighs by heart. And that dumb apron he bought was the only other thing on you, tied around your neck and across your lower back. 

He was already throbbing for you, and he knew it would just get worse. "Hey, Roo," you said casually when you saw him. "Dinner is almost ready. Wanna grab some beers and I'll bring a plate in."

"Yeah," he rasped, pecking you on the cheek and running his fingers along your bare back when he walked past. He couldn't even tell if it was intentional or not. Maybe you didn't realize you were turning him on right now. He got two beers from the refrigerator and went to sit at the table, and you joined him a minute later with one plate piled high with dinner. 

You set it down softly in front of him, but his eyes were on you as you untied the apron and let it fall to the floor. And yeah, it was intentional. Yes, you knew you were turning him on right now as you stood there topless with Mrs. Bradshaw written across your pussy. 

"You need a good dinner and a good night's sleep," you told him, but he made no move to eat the Marry Me Rooster yet. He patted his thigh for you to take a seat, but you just shook your head once and squeezed down between his body and the edge of the table until you were on your knees. You looked up at him with questioning eyes as you pulled his cock and balls free of his underwear and licked his tip.

"Do I need that, too?" he asked, voice deep and rough. You just nodded as you wrapped your lips around him. "I think you're right." 

You bobbed slowly up and down his length before you popped him free and whispered, "You can eat your dinner," before licking his balls. 

"One thing at a time," he grunted, fixated on how pretty you looked as you smiled and parted your lips again. You weren't in any hurry, and neither was he as you ran your tongue all over his length in broad stripes before sucking. Bradley ran his fingers and knuckles over the curve of your cheek while he kept one hand at the back of your head. He wasn't forceful as he guided himself deep, but when you gagged on him, his head tipped back as he panted. You felt so good, and the soft sounds you made as you tried to take him impossibly deeper just made him harder for you.

"Fuck," he growled, looking at your eyes watering as your lips skimmed his balls and his trimmed hairs. Your nipples were hard and you were moaning. "Come up here. Ride me."

You whimpered as he helped you up onto his lap. His length was dripping with your saliva as he pulled your wedding underwear to the side and let you sink down around him. Bradley was a little afraid he didn't have much left in the tank for you, so he stroked your rooster tattoo before tucking his thumb inside the front of the satin fabric. He let you set the tempo, rubbing yourself against his hand how you wanted him. Your forearms were resting on his shoulders as you played with his hair and kissed him lazily, languidly. Your tits brushed his chest with every movement.

"You feel good," you murmured with a soft smile before returning your lips to his. Bradley just grunted, already feeling himself getting close from the sure and steady roll of your hips and your tight pussy. Then your fingers wound a little deeper in his hair as you moaned, "Oh. You feel good."

He moved his lips to your neck and found that sweet spot to suck on while you begged him to rub your clit harder. Your begging turned to near screaming as you came, and he allowed himself to as well. There was a wet, sticky mess where you and he remained connected, and after you licked his lips and kissed his mustache, Bradley leaned down and kissed your breasts. 

"Thanks for making my favorite dinner," he whispered, kissing his way back up to your lips before reaching behind you for the plate. Then without moving, he held the Marry Me Rooster between your soft body and his, and you fed it to him as you ate some yourself. 

-------------------------

Bradley plugged in his phone and yours and took your glasses off before kissing your forehead. It was barely eight o'clock, but after dinner and a quick phone call to your parents, you insisted he start getting ready for bed. You looked tired, and he felt tired, so he did as he was told. And now as you curled up on his chest in bed, Bradley took your hand in his. 

"Did you want me to read from my notebook?" he asked. You already knew he packed a fresh one to write in at night while he was away. It would be a nice break if he had an annoying bunkmate to deal with. 

"Not tonight," you whispered. "But I'm sure I'll read it while you're away."

He turned off his light and kissed the top of your head. "I'll be thinking about you the whole time. I have no idea if I'll be allowed to call you, but if I have the chance, I will, okay?"

"Okay, Roo."

"I love you," were the last words on his lips as he dozed off. Then the alarm was blaring on his phone way too soon, and he was handing your glasses back to you again. 

"Do you want anything to eat?" you asked blearily. "Or just coffee?"

"Just coffee," he replied as you slipped out of bed in the pitch black bedroom. "I'll take some protein bars, too." 

Bradley watched you pull on some yoga pants and a tee shirt so you could take him up to Miramar before you got yourself ready for work. He heard you messing with the French press in the kitchen while he zipped up his uniform pants, and then you were shuffling past him and into the bathroom. 

You were still using the toilet while he brushed his teeth, and he barely heard you whisper his name. "Yeah?" he asked as he spit and went to rinse. 

"My period started. A day or two early. I knew I was feeling a little crampy."

Bradley turned to see the sadness in your eyes, but you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders. He hadn't been thinking about it. You and he hadn't been talking about it. He wasn't overly concerned at the moment with your cycle. And even though he knew you hadn't been as absorbed with trying to get pregnant for the past month and a half, the idea must have still been in the back of your mind. Because he found that it was that way for him. 

"Okay," he replied softly. "That's okay. I just wish I could stay and get your heating pad ready for you and rub your feet after work."

You nodded and he bent down to kiss the top of your head. "Me too," you whispered. "But Tramp will take care of me." 

Bradley went to the bathroom cabinet and held up the different packages of pads and tampons and brought you the ones you wanted. Then he kissed you again. "You'll be okay. Right?"

"Yeah," you replied as you flushed the toilet. "I can talk to Dr. Genevieve if I need to, but I think I'll be okay."

He wanted to tell you a million times that it didn't matter if you never got pregnant, but he settled for, "It's me and you right now, and I love that."

You nodded against his chest as he held you for a few minutes. "Let's get you to Miramar."

Bradley picked up his duffle bag but kept his fingers linked with yours as he spied you wearing his wedding band on the chain with your charms. He kissed your lips and then kissed his ring, and you were smiling again as you and he headed out to the driveway. When you tried to pull him toward your car, he said, "Absolutely not," and your laughter in the darkness had him smiling, too. "Let's take the Bronco."

He dropped his bag to the driveway to open the door and buckle you in. Then he was tossing the duffle into the back and starting the engine, and he backed out of the driveway as the beams from his headlights illuminated the front porch. He paused for a beat before shifting into drive and heading off for another assignment, another aircraft carrier, another block of time away from home. 

As he drove down the street he turned on the radio and said, "Damn, you really made everything so much better and so much harder for me at the same time."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, turning to look at him. 

"I just never thought I'd hate leaving home this much."

You leaned on his bicep and played with his hand for the rest of the drive up to the airstrip where a whole fleet of aircrafts were waiting. The sky was lightening, and there were officers and personnel everywhere along with some family members who came to say goodbye. When Bradley parked and helped you out of the Bronco. He saw Cyclone immediately, and he knew he should head over and meet his team and board the comanche, but he just held you instead. 

Other people started their cars and left. Officers were boarding aircrafts, but Bradley just wanted another couple minutes here. "I love you. Be good."

You kissed his chest through his uniform and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. "I love you, too. I'll pick you up anytime. Just come back home to me." 

He nodded before kissing your lips. "I will." He took your face in both hands and kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before settling his lips back on yours. "I will."

"I love you, Bradley!" you called after him as he carried his bag toward the barbed wire fence with his ID in his hand. He turned and looked back at you so many times, it felt like he wasn't even making any progress toward the airstrip. But he had to go, and part of him wanted to go. 

He showed his badge at the gate opening, and once he was through to the other side, he cupped his free hand around his mouth and shouted, "I love you, Baby Girl!" You waved and wiped your tears as he headed toward Cyclone, Warlock and the aircraft that would take the whole group of them out over the Pacific Ocean.

-------------------------------

And he's off once again. Going to peek in at Jake and Cat and sweet little Jeremiah. And I hope Bradley doesn't miss his birthday at home. So many things coming soon! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[sprout-gt]

here are some angsty g/t prompts to feed the brainworms

(come get y'alls juice.)

recently shrunken/borrower friend who has had to lower all defenses around someone so utterly terrifying to be around simply because of how much them there is. learning how to develop a relationship with someone capable of any amount of destruction with minimal effort. the truth that, for some things, they are completely dependant on the giant. over the course of days/weeks/months fragile trust is slowly cultivated as they both learn how to adjust to each other's presence, only for it to be shattered in a moment due to a giant's carelessness. a voice raised too loud, a hand slammed a little too close, a grab just too tight. and ultimately, no amount of guilt or remorse will fix the damage done.

the utter helplessness of size shifting. like, i know size shifting is a popular concept for g/t scenarios, but if you think about it- it's legitimately body horror. consider it, a signifigant aspect of your physical body robbed from you over the course of a few moments. the rushing feeling of anxiety crashed with the abject panic knowing that the world around you is going to transform, that you are going to change. overwhelming vertigo as the ceiling begins to stretch above you, as your surroundings change from a neutral space to an immense and overwhelming enclosure. even the most banal and mundane items are now obtacles, if not actively dangerous. shifting somewhere you can't leave, shifting somewhere you shouldn't leave. shifting somewhere where you can't reach someone you trust.

tinies discovered by someone curious and stolen away from their trusted giants in a moment. the tiny has to endure this new giant that is over ten times their size and unconcerned with their wellbeing like their friend/partner, while the giant spirals into panic searching for their vulnerable friend/partner who trusted them- blaming themselves all the way.

tinies stuck in thunderstorms. the sky roars with claps of deafening thunder as they scramble to find cover against the frigid, heavy raindrops that pound against them. their vision is nonexistant as they stumble through the soft earth, unsure of where they are running towards but just hoping its somewhere away.

the prompts below are a little more intense/whumpy fyi!!

borrowers caught in traps intended for pests. maybe they were being careless or overconfident - maybe they just weren't paying attention... until the metal bar of a mousetrap snaps over their ankle or they find themselves stuck in a glue trap, pinned in place and in the open. they can't cry out in pain in fear of being discovered, while also knowing it's inevitable. injured and growing more panicked by the minute, they hear the resounding sounds of a giant approaching them.

tinies locked in things. bird cages, jars, drawers, lockboxes- take your pick. bonus points if it's claustrophobic. bonus bonus points if its pitch black. bonus bonus bonus points if the tiny has no idea how long till they get out and can breathe again.

g/t fearplay lightning round: giants that love to see how little they need to do in order to panic a tiny, tinies being tossed around like keys, rubber bands used as restraints, shock collars, tinies held out over tall heights, the works

it's ok though because in all of these scenarios they end up being taken care of by a gentle and caring giant because i'll be damned if this hurt isn't eventually going to have comfort.

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ who are you?

vampire series | shuri udaku | part 1

Pairing - vampire!shuri x black fem!reader

Word count - 17k (yup)

Contains - smut (18+), fingering, cunnilingus, clit play, overstimulation, choking/breathplay, biting, edging, strap-on sex, blood drinking, descriptions of blood, gaslighting (it’s a vampire story, so it’s a whole bunch of shady shit going on), and probably more I forgot

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “Shuri…baby…” Your breathless whimpers forced Shuri to release you, her face drawing closer to yours, yet she looked so different. Her dark brown eyes transformed into a blood-red hue, her fangs fully extended, and her mouth stained with your blood. The image frightened you at first and Shuri looked away in shame, attempting to conceal the face she despised so deeply.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @marsology @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @ooglyboooglybitxh @sweetalittleselfish-honey @kisskourt @shaiwritesss @sapphicbarbz @darkangelchronicles (comment if you want to be tagged in future fics, 18+ only)

Writers Note: whew fuck, this was definitely the most challenging thing I’ve ever written for tumblr. I could’ve went on and on, but I realize that’s not ideal. This is part 1 of a three part story, this part is mostly just an introduction to Shuri and her character, delving into her past and her life as vampire while introducing the vampire lore. Reader is nosey af but who wouldn’t be if they got to question a vampire? I hope you guys enjoy this read! I always love reading your comments!

“If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain, If you cut me with a knife it's still the same

And I know her heart is beating, and I know that I am dead

Yet the pain here that I feel, try and tell me it's not real

It seems that I still have a tear to shed” - tears to shed, the corpse bride

November 23rd, 2411, New York

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You found yourself sitting in a bar, one that sat high up in the air as most buildings did in the now 25th century. The night sky enveloped you, its vastness serving both as the reason you are able to walk the earth and the reason you want to leave it, yearning, if only for a brief moment, to bask in the sun's warmth seeping through your dark skin once more. Those days were dearly missed. You missed early morning brisk winter breezes. You missed chocolate sundaes on balmy afternoons. It was the little things that made life meaningful, and you missed it all but most importantly, you missed her and this couldn't possibly be her. It would be too much of a coincidence to cross paths in this exact space at precisely the same time, especially when space and time had lost their significance to you ever since your transformation…that was until this very moment. Moving closer cautiously, you walked in silence, struggling to stifle your gasp.

It was her.

She retained the same appearance as the day you first encountered her; ageless, timeless, and effortlessly divine. That finely chiseled jaw remained a masterpiece, her dark skin still the epitome of flawlessness, and her hair wore the same exact short curls that framed her face in a manner that rendered her the most attractive person you have ever encountered. Even after nearly four centuries, you have yet to meet someone like Shuri Udaku. If a heartbeat resided within you, it would undoubtedly be pounding against your rib cage. If breath were still at your disposal, it would stagger beyond your control. However, for the past 400 years, you possessed none of the two. No breath. No heartbeat. You were frozen.

Closer and closer, you moved forward, until finally you took the empty bar stool next to her in the very empty bar.

“Shuri?”

She paused. Her body stayed deathly still right before she turned to see the face she missed so much.

“Y/n…?”

“Yeah…”

And while your heightened senses surpassed any human perceptions, the world seemed to suddenly go quiet, embracing a rare moment of absolute silence. It was a profound silence, the kind you craved after a prolonged period of listening to the world and all its presence for so long and it seemed Shuri felt the same. Both of you embraced this quietude, finding solace in its embrace, until she eventually broke the stillness with the very mouth you had once intimately known.

“It’s been…it’s been almost 200 years, s’thandwa.”

That name. Oh, how you missed that too.

“Yeah…I guess it has been.”

February 16th, 2022, New York

The day was warm, the sun reaching its peak in the sky while your dark attire absorbed its radiance. You reveled in the comforting sensation it provided, a soothing contrast to the ache settled within you, a certain feeling of content that masked the emptiness you felt. Yes, the sky was bright, the day was warm, but your heart was not. Not with the scene that surrounded you.

“We gather here today to commemorate our brother Jonathan. He was a friend to us all, a person that will truly be missed and cannot be replaced….”

You found it impossible not to internally sneer at the kind and flattering words used to depict your former partner, Jonathan, during his funeral. To everyone present, he was a gentle and caring man, someone adored by everyone who had crossed paths with him. However, you were all too aware of the person he was behind closed doors; a coward, a despicable individual who was good for nothing but the depths of pockets. He had used you as a mere pawn in his life, exploiting your exceptional beauty. You were nothing more than an object, a prized possession desired by many men, but he had claimed you. Your parents had practically arranged your marriage to Jonathan, a companion chosen for you due to his wealth. The plan was for you to marry him and become his perfect wife. That was until a week ago when he passed away.

“My son was everything a mom could want…,” Jonathan’s mother began, breaking into sobs as she mourned for her son you hated so deeply.

“He was…the most perfect boy. My baby boy. And y/n…” Her gaze connected with yours, her eyes filled with a pitiful sorrow that you could not reciprocate or even pretend to, and so you did nothing but offer her a weak smile as she proceeded. “My boy loved you, baby. He loved you with his entire being and I hope you know that.”

A pitiful smile graced your face, the only response you could possibly give her amidst your numbness. The pain and hollowness residing in your heart were not born from sorrow or profound grief over Jonathan's death, but rather from the absence of love and affection he gave you. The lack of love in a relationship that had consumed three and a half years of your life weighed heavily on you. All you had received was a shattered heart, and there was no one there to assist you in gathering the fragments except for yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The moment you closed your apartment door, a long exhale escaped you; a mix of relief and stress as you stepped into your now quiet space. It was vastly different from the usual banter Jonathan would welcome you home with, his tendency to pinpoint faults in you as an outlet for his anger that had nothing to do with you in the first place. Yet now, you stood alone. The sentiment was uncertain and you were not sure how to feel about it, but there was an odd form of comfort in the deafening silence. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a tangled maze of broken strands. Amidst the chaos, your mind always retorted back to one single thing: your friend, Shuri.

You had arranged to meet with her in a couple days and finally address your suspicions head-on. You were well aware that you were most likely overthinking, perhaps being overly dramatic or even irrational, and that your theories might be far from the truth. But after a year of friendship, the burden of skepticism had become overwhelming. The feeling of being kept in the dark, the feeling that she harbored secrets and consistently hid things from you, had pushed you to a breaking point. You couldn't bear this constant uncertainty any longer. You were fully prepared to demand answers and possibly present an ultimatum because you were simply exhausted and as much as it would break you to have to remove Shuri from your life, it was what you needed to do if she refused to provide you with the solace and closure you needed, especially in times like these.

You proceeded with your night routine, changing into your pajamas and getting comfy in your now very empty bed. Was the bed always this large? Or did Jonathan just always make you feel small? Finally, after a long day, you allowed yourself to weep, sensing the tears tracing their path down your cheeks and absorbing into the softness of your pillow. You cried yourself into the most serene sleep you had in years.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You sat at the diner where you and Shuri would always meet at late hours, waiting for her to appear so you could finally voice the subtle anger that had been building within you over the course of a year-long friendship. It wasn't just a matter of her being a weird individual disinterested in sharing about herself—it was everything about her. The way she spoke, the way she was ridiculously smart, the way she has done absolutely everything and been absolutely everywhere in her short 26 years of being on this earth. It seemed she spoke an almost inhuman number of languages, and you couldn't recall ever seeing her eat, despite her assurances that she did. Her handling of alcohol was reckless, yet you'd only witnessed her drunk once, maybe twice.

There were countless aspects that unnerved you, but the most unsettling was her adamant refusal to meet during daylight. She claimed it to be solar urticaria, a supposed sun allergy, and you believed her initially. However, her increasing avoidance of daytime interactions left you puzzled and frustrated. She wouldn't respond to your texts or answer your calls during daylight hours, making it impossible for you to visit her, even when she didn't have to leave her home. Strangely enough, you had never even seen her house.

The mounting suspicions were overwhelming, and you wondered if you were being silly. It couldn't be true, right? There was no scientific proof or evidence to support such a claim. But what else would your suspicions add up to? What other explanation was there, except that she might be a va--

"Hey, y/n," her velvety voice broke through your thoughts. She settled into her seat across from you, and you couldn't deny how fine she looked. She had always held a certain kind of beauty, and not in a friendship type of way; it was a beauty impossible to overlook, one that left a lasting impression on everyone, yourself included. It was an ethereal allure, almost divine in nature. She gave off an attractiveness that surpassed ordinary bounds, and you were no exception to its impact. It was a challenge to put into words, but she seemed otherworldly, perhaps even godlike in her allure. She was undeniably attractive, captivating beyond what your body could handle, yet you continually suppressed any attraction you felt towards her. After all, you were in a relationship, a terrible one, but a relationship nonetheless. The last thing you needed was to lose the only person you believed truly understood you because of a silly attraction you may have felt for her.

"Hello, Shuri," you responded, your voice carrying a hint of tremor from the nerves that had crept in. Shuri caught on, and her self-assured chuckle let you know she sensed the anxiousness that had taken hold of you, further quickening your heartbeat.

"You look beautiful," she remarked, attempting to ease your nerves, though both of you knew that did nothing but make it worse. Her words carried a magnetic charm, one that surpasses the human experience, causing the hairs on your arms to stand up. You managed a soft smile in response, genuine but subdued, as that was all you could offer right now and Shuri immediately picked up on the fact that something was off about you. There was a subtle shift in your demeanor and posture, a slight dimming of the twinkle in your eyes but it didn't escape her notice.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” You’re caught off guard because you didn’t think yourself to be that obvious. You knew for a fact you were never that transparent. But to Shuri, you almost always were.

“What do you mean?”

“Well there’s obviously something wrong.”

“Obviously? I’m just sitting here, I’ve said all but five words to you, how is it obvious??” Your tone turned a touch harsh, frustration evident as you were tired of Shuri's ability to see through you. Raising an eyebrow, she chuckled, revealing her perfect set of pearly whites.

“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” she said once she stopped her laughter. You huffed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms.

“No need to be sorry…I’m almost relieved he’s good and gone.”

Shuri softly smiled, a smile you knew she tried to contain but it was no use.

“What?”

“Nothing…I just think…I think you’ll be much better without him. You never needed him, y/n.”

For a moment, you almost got caught up in her, lost in her words and the enchantment that peered behind her beautiful dark brown eyes but you remembered what you were here for, and you weren’t about to succumb into her hypnotic gaze as you often do.

“Shuri…I-I need answers…like…like, right now.” Even though your voice trembled, your request was resolute. You yearned for something from her, anything at all. And just when you thought you had the advantage, that same self-assured smirk reappeared on her face, as if she had been waiting for you to bring up the conversation.

“What?,” you questioned her facial expressions.

“What?,” she challenged back.

“No, you’re the one giving me that look so you tell me what's up.”

“The floor is yours, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, inhaling deeply as you debated whether to continue with this conversation. If your suspicions were wrong, you'd feel like a damn fool. Shuri would undoubtedly tease you relentlessly, something she already enjoyed doing. But you pushed aside all doubts and plowed forward despite the hesitations that surfaced in her presence. Clearing your throat, you released a hefty exhale before proceeding.

“Shuri…I know you’re gonna think I sound insane but I’m getting to a breaking point, and I just have to ask…”

“Then ask.”

You paused, glaring at her as you proceeded. “We’ve been friends for about a year now, and there’s no better way to put this but there’s just something incredibly off about you…like, it’s fucking with my head.”

Shuri bit the inside of her cheek, trying to contain her laughter.

“You are insanely talented at like…everything, you’ve been everywhere, you speak multiple languages, I’ve never met your family, or seen your house and I’m starting to question whether you even have a family…or a house…”

“Are you done?”

“Not even close. You never eat…or drink, but you drink an insane amount of alcohol almost everytime we go out yet I’ve seen you get drunk maybe once…?? Shuri, that's not humanly possible.”

“You’re listing things about myself like I don’t already know, pretty girl.”

She always knew her way with words.

“I’m not done.”

She gestured for you to proceed, resting her back against her chair.

“The sun…what is your deal with the day time??”

“I already told you, y/n.”

“No, don’t give me that shit. I don’t buy it…so you’re allergic to the sun or whatever…you can’t pick up your phone?? Answer your texts?? But as soon as the sun goes down…”

Shuri just sits there, interested but also unbothered and you weren’t sure how that made you feel. There was silence for a moment.

“You gonna say something or just sit there and look good all evening??”

Shuri said nothing but another chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Shuri? You’ve been saying nothing but laughing at me the whole time.”

“I was waiting for you to finish what you were saying.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

Shuri leaned in, placing her forearms on the table, her smug grin never wavering. Her eyes shifted between the two of your own, delving into the depths of your eyes. You swallowed, nerves building up in anticipation.

“Come on, y/n. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“I—“

“I don’t need to repeat everything you just listed. Why must I answer what you already know?”

“What are you saying, Shuri??”

“Don’t be stupid now. You know.”

“What do I know??”

Shuri arched an eyebrow, and you took in a sharp breath. It couldn't be. There was just absolutely no way.

“Uh uh. Don’t fuck with me, Shuri, this isn’t fucking funny!”

“I’m not playing with you, princess. I have no reason to anymore. You know.”

“Anymore?? What does that mean?? Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“I’m not messing with you.”

A lengthy silence ensued as you both locked eyes, glaring eachother down. Shuri appeared unbothered, almost captivated by your frustration and that only fueled the fire that was coursing through your veins.

“Uh uh, there’s just no way. No fucking way,” you uttered in disbelief as you made your way out of the diner, coming face to face with the dark night that surrounded you every single time you were with her. Shuri rolled her eyes before she got up to follow you. You hurried behind the restaurant, hoping to get a moment of privacy to collect your thoughts, but that hope dissipated as you felt Shuri's firm grip on your wrist, causing you to flinch at her harshness. Shuri let go abruptly, offering no verbal apology, but her eyes held a silent regret at the action.

“Shuri, what the fuck is going on??,” you asked, attempting to keep your voice down but your mind was too boggled to remember you were still out in public.

“I’m gonna need you to keep your voice down, y/n.”

“Keep my….excuse me?? No! Don’t fucking tell what to do, Shuri! Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Y/n…,” a voice of warning, one that was accompanied by her firm stature.

“No, don’t fucki—,” but before you could complete your sentence, your body was wedged against the building wall, Shuri's palm firmly covering your mouth as her body trapped you in. She held you like that for a moment, admiring how you so easily yielded to her control even after your mouth refused to shut up for her.

“You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” Your face softened just a bit, almost relaxing into her touch.

“Are you going to listen to me, y/n?”

You nodded, a smirk appearing on her face at the gesture.

“Good girl.” She let your mouth go. “No wonder Jonathan could not handle you.”

You scowled at her, eyebrows furrowing together as Shuri pinched your chin and tilted your head up just a bit. “Let me take you home and I will tell you everything you need to know. I’ll answer any important questions you have, baby, but you have got to listen to me. Do you understand?”

You were trembling, and though your pride nearly kept you from acknowledging it, fear gripped you. Fear of Shuri and whatever her motives might be. Your heart felt like it could burst through your rib cage at any given moment.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just let me take you home. Please.” Her plea seemed to carry a hint of desperation and it provided an odd sense of comfort. You knew that you would be okay and so you agreed.

The car ride remained silent, only the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the car window and Shuri's old tunes playing softly. Your heartbeat felt so loud, you swore you could almost hear that too…or maybe she could.

Once you get there, Shuri swiftly makes it to your side, helping you get out as she softly massages the skin on your wrist.

“I don’t need your help getting to my door, Shuri.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

She lets you go, trailing behind you as you make your way to your apartment.

You made yourself a cup of tea in an effort to soothe your nerves but the absence of conversation between you two left an eerie atmosphere in the space, one that surpasses the fact that you now live alone in a space that was once for two. The rain seemed distant, tapping lightly against your balcony window. Suddenly, the sound of her presence broke through your state of mind.

“So…are you gonna tell me what’s going on, y/n?”

You swallow, trying to contain your composure. “Nah, I’m waiting for you to tell me, Shuri.”

“I think you’ve gotten it all figured out now. Am I right?”

“But I want to hear it come from your mouth, Shuri. I wanna know it’s true because you told me.”

Shuri reclined, stretching her arms casually against the sofa, adopting an almost cocky posture as she grinned at you.

“You gonna fucking say something or what?,” you snapped in impatience.

Shuri raises an eyebrow as she releases a breathy chuckle. “You have such a mouth on you.”

Your eyebrows lightly furrowed together, before you rolled your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Fine. Let’s have it your way then. Let me reintroduce myself to you…Hello, y/n. My name is Shuri Udaku and I am a vampire,” she said with a nod of her head, as if the fact meant nothing. Your heart stops for a second before it begins beating uncontrollably, consumed with pure shock. Even though you already knew, you were never prepared for how it felt once it was made real.

“I can hear your heartbeat, princess. Tell me what you’re feeling. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I…I need some time to p-process…”

Shuri remained silent, her eyebrows knitting together as she observed you, appreciating the way you stumbled over your own words. She was captivated by you, by the way your body responded to her and to this newfound piece of information that you were trying to keep your composure over.

“I want you to go, Shuri.”

But she did not budge. Perched there, she observed you, and an increasing fear of her began to gnaw at you and Shuri seemed to sense this. She rose from her seat, advancing toward you, firmly placing her hands on the armrests of your chair as she hovered over you. Her lips were mere whispers away from yours, and the desire to both flee from and lean into her lips was a thin line in difference. You were torn between pushing her away and surrendering to the magnetic pull. Even though she had always held a certain dominance in your relationship, it was different now. It was hunter and hunted. Predator and prey. You felt so small, utterly defenseless, and you swallowed in anticipation, awaiting her next move.

“Shuri…please,” you choked out.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I—please don’t hurt me. Please.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and though it wasn't inherently menacing, it sent shivers down your spine. Shuri leaned down, her lips almost brushing against the side of your throat, and your entire body quivered the closer she got.

“Please,” you said softly, unsure of what it was you were pleading for at this point. Did you want her to stop? Did you want her to keep going? There was a thin line between the two and the beat in your heart found its way between your legs and you could only hope she couldn’t sense that too. Shuri pressed her lips into your throat, kissing the sensitive skin as you sigh in relief. You tried so hard to contain the moan that was threatening to escape you but you swallowed it, clenching your thighs together instead. The feel of her soft lips against your throat was threatening to undo you and the sound of her voice nearly made you bring her face into yours.

“I would never hurt you,” she hums as her lips continue to softly assault your throat. A soft whimper escapes your lips, an unwilling beg for her to give you more and Shuri took note of it but did not give into it. She removes herself from your body, coming back to face you and your eyes that drown in both fear and want. She takes your cheek into the palm of her hand, pressing firm into your warm skin.

“If I leave now, are you going to be ok here on your own?”

You nod and she smirks at you, admiring how you and that smart mouth of your was at loss for words and how she was the one that got you that way.

“I’ll see you whenever you want to see me. Let me know and I’ll give you all the answers that you need. Just reach out to me, yeah?”

You nod again. She grabs your hand and helps you off the chair, pulling you in by your hips until your pelvis bumps into hers and suddenly all fear is replaced with pure lust and this was nothing new. You always had an attraction for Shuri, even when you were with Jonathan, you could never ignore how beautiful she was and how her beauty lit a spark in you and though there were never any official titles placed between the two of you, you always knew a part of her wanted you too.

“Shuri,” you groaned, completely overtaken by her and her presence.

“What is it?,” she asked, her voice winning you over with the bass it held. You swallow harshly, embarrassed with yourself and how much you were leaking onto your panties.

“I want…I n-need…”

“Tell me.”

You remained silent, hoping that the desperation in your expression would convey what words could not but that was not enough for Shuri. She let you go and your body immediately ached at the emptiness you felt. Then, she gently gripped your chin, tilting it slightly to ensure your gaze was locked onto hers.

“Call me when you’re ready.” Shuri heads towards the balcony door and opens it, and the coolness from outside immediately strikes your skin and you shiver.

“Shuri, what the fuck are you doing?? It’s raining and it’s damn cold, close the door!”

Shuri only smirked at you, scanning her surroundings before she effortlessly jumped off the balcony as if it was nothing. You immediately gasped, rushing to the edge to search for her, but she had vanished. All that remained was the sound of the pouring rain and the rustle of the wind in the air, clogging your senses and sending a sharp shiver up your spine. You had received the answer you sought, the one you needed, but now you were left with nothing but an insatiable craving to know more.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A week had passed since that night with Shuri, a week of solitude spent grappling with troubled thoughts that ignited an overwhelming sense of desire. Finally, you summoned the courage to reach out and arrange another meeting with her. Shuri agreed, relieved that you were willing to take it up a notch.

“So what about mirrors?”

“What about mirrors?”

“You know…that dracula shit, how he can’t see his reflection and all…is that real?”

Shuri chuckles. “False. I can see my reflection perfectly fine.”

“Ok…uhhh, what about the whole thing with crosses, crucifixes, holy water and all that…?”

“False. Although I do not like being in the presence of those things, only because I find religion to be messy and I never really believed in it.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, ummmm…what about garlic?”

Shuri burst into laughter. “You watch way too many movies, y/n.”

“Well shit, I don’t know. Pop culture got you guys all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know, it’s ok. I just…keep going,” she assures, coming back down from her laughter.

“Okay um…the sun.”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I know but I want to hear it come from your mouth, Shuri.”

“You must have heard enough lore to understand that we cannot go into the sun, princess. It is one of our greatest weaknesses. If I go in the sun, I’ll die. It’s simple really.”

A part of you went numb as the fragments and clues started to unravel and fit together before your eyes. Yet, you knew there was a crucial aspect of her you needed to confront, the elephant in the room that you were eager to discuss as soon as she disclosed her true nature as a vampire.

“W-what about your…your diet?,” you ask, already knowing the answer but afraid to hear it anyway. Shuri goes silent, as if she wants to keep the obvious all to herself.

“Shuri, baby…you said you would talk to me.”

“I know what I said.”

“So then talk to me. You’re the one that came into my life. You knew you would eventually have to have these conversations. So tell me.”

“They never last this long,” she replies, her eyes no longer on yours.

“What? Who never lasts this long?”

“What I am trying to say is, y/n…I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of having this same conversation over and over and over again just for that person to run. No one has lasted this long.”

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when you remember that vampires are immortal beings. “Wait…how…how old are you?”

“I’m 26.”

“You know what the fuck I mean.”

A subtle tilt graced her lips as she smiled, exuding the same self-assured manner she always seemed to have.

“I was born in 1794, turned in the year 1820. And I’ve been this ever since,” she says so matter of factly. It startled you at first, leaving you trying to do the math in your head and Shuri notices right away.

“228.”

“What?”

“That’s the answer you are looking for.”

“Wait, how’d you…?? Wait…can you read minds??,” you ask startled, worried she may have heard all the dirty thoughts you’ve had about her. Shuri laughs.

“No, not necessarily. I don’t need to read your mind directly in order to know that is what you were thinking. Your body language says it all.”

You glare at her in confusion.

“I have been around long enough to understand what someone is trying to say or what they are thinking through their body language, princess. A skill humans think they have but I promise, you truly do not.”

“Uh huh…so you can’t read minds? Then what can you do? What kinds of powers or whatever do you have??”

“Powers??”

“Yeah or whatever the fuck its called!”

Shuri chuckles. “We don’t have ‘powers’. We have abilities. Take for example…the cheetah. The fastest land species…well not necessarily but you wouldn’t call its ability to run fast a power would you? Or the owls' capability to see at night? Is that a ‘power’ to you? How about the elephant's strength? A power? No. They are abilities that help them run from predators and catch their prey. It’s no different for a vampire. We have…capabilities that make it easy to catch our prey.”

You swallow hard, unsure of how to respond to the snarky yet intelligent way she put it.

“Throw that knife at me,” she commands, pointing to the knife you used to cut your steak.

“What??”

“Do it.”

“Shuri, I’m not gonna throw a knife at you, are you mad??”

“You cannot hurt me, y/n.”

You glanced around, surveying your surroundings and noting the nearly empty restaurant as the night advanced. Gradually, you picked up the knife, taking a deep breath before hurling it towards her. She effortlessly caught it in the palm of her hand, as if she had performed the act a million times before, the blade no more than an inch from her eyes. She then opened her hand, revealing the deep wound the knife had left from her grip and the blood that started to pool. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you observed her flesh healing at an inhumane speed. It was no different than the healing process for a human but sped up by 100 times.

“Whoaaaa,” you say, like a child seeing something extraordinary for the first time.

“I can also communicate to you telepathically,” she says, but her mouth did not move. It was as if she had placed her voice inside your mind and spoke to you that way.

“Wait…how’d you?? Do it again! That was cool!”

“I’ll leave it for another time,” she laughs. “I also have senses beyond the human capacity to even dream of. When I…turned…it was as if I was blind my whole life, like I was a deaf and could finally hear. My senses overwhelmed me, I swore I was going to die with everything that was raging through my body. I’m fast, strong, never get tired…I can talk about my ‘powers’ for a long time. But really…it loses its touch overtime. I often forget those abilities are there.”

At this moment, your jaw dropped in astonishment, completely enthralled with what truly existed and that it had been right in front of you all along.

“So you’re like…a superhero…with super cool powers and shit.”

Shuri's presence briefly darkened as a glint of emotion shimmered in her eye, a momentary pause that was so brief but felt long.

“Superhero,” she repeats. “No…nothing like that. Not anymore.” She mumbled that last part and it caught your attention but you chose to ignore it for the time being, steering back to the original point of conversation.

“Shuri…your diet.”

She looks away in shame, closing her eyes before she proceeds to answer. “I drink blood.”

“Ok…and what else?”

“That’s it. That’s all I eat. Human food tastes like nothing to me, it’s disgusting really. It does not give me any nutritional value either. The longer I go without drinking blood, the more I’ll start to feel it.”

You take a sharp gulp. “So how often do you feed on people?”

“Often…as much as I can.”

“D-do you…kill people?”

A brief pause ensues but Shuri's intense gaze stays fixed on you all the while, her jaw tensing before she continues.

“I have.”

Heat rushes through you. “Do you kill people often?”

“Not anymore.”

“...anymore?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

You looked away, almost disgusted with the person you were sitting in front of.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“No I…I want--I need to hear this. When…when was the last time you killed someone?”

Shuri refrained from speaking immediately, choosing to study and began to grow queasy.

“Not that long ago.”

“How long ago?? Did I know you??”

“Yeah.”

Another deafening silence engulfed the space between you two. There was no need to voice your next question; she already anticipated what you were going to ask.

“It was February 10…2022.”

Instantly, a sinking feeling gripped your stomach, and your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest as tears welled up, ready to surface.

“J-Jonathan?,” you whispered as you choked on your tears. She nodded her head, almost unbothered by the tears you were shedding for him.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you??!”

“Y/n…”

“No! No, don’t fucking touch me!”

Despite the near emptiness of the diner, the few present all had eyes only looking at you before you stormed out with both confusion and hurt coursing through you. You climb into your car with determination before driving home, the desire to distance yourself from her was overpowering but when you got home, you were heavily startled to find her seated on your couch, indulging from your stash of whiskey.

“What are you doing here?? How’d you even get in here?!”

“Through the balcony.”

Your fractured sobs were on the verge of breaking free, and your tear-streaked cheeks were evidence of the intense breakdown you had in the car ride back home.

“You can’t just break into my house whenever you want to,” you managed to spit out.

“Can’t I?,” she challenged.

“Shuri…get the fuck outta my house. Get the fuck outta my house, I swear to god, Shuri…”

“I did you a favor, y/n.” The audacity she displayed left you stunned, as you pressed your temples in an attempt to ease the throb in your head from all the tears you cried.

“I never liked him. He never treated you the way you deserved and you just let him treat you that way. I was so sick of seeing you cry, y/n. Is that the life you really wanted for yourself? I mean, let’s be honest. You’re more than happy he’s gone. Now there’s nothing in the way of going after what you really want, seeking for the life you deserve, princess. I did it for you.”

“I--wow. You are mentally insane. What is that, some kinda romantic vampire notion??”

“It can be,” she responded, and you struggled to discern if she was being sarcastic. Nothing could be certain when she wore that enigmatic grin on her face.

“None of that was for you to decide, Shuri! You can’t just go around killing people and for what?? Cuz you don’t like them? That’s a life…a human life you just took away…”

“I’ve decided a long time ago to not care too much for human life anymore. There is no point and it does nothing for me.”

“I…what? Ok…yeah…Imma need you to get the fuck outta my house…like…now.”

Shuri rises from her seat, advancing towards you, and soon you're caught between the wall and her imposing presence once more. Your breath hastens, and the hairs on your arm stand on end as she takes you in. Shuri takes pleasure in the way your body reacts to her, attempting to decipher just how frightened you truly are. You swallow nervously.

“What are you scared of, princess?,” she asks with low lids, her eyes glazed with desire.

“Y-you.”

She lets out a soft chuckle as she fakes a frown, almost mocking your fear.

“Why?” Gently, she runs her fingers across your cheek as she speaks softly, a sly smile appearing on her face while she observes your pleading eyes locked onto hers. “Tell me why I scare you, baby.”

“You kill people, Shuri.”

Shuri nods, humming in agreement.

“You could kill me.”

“I could…but I won’t. You know why? Cuz I care for you…I care for you and it scares the absolute shit outta me.” She utters these words with a hint of sorrow in her eyes, as if a fracture lies beneath the confident facade she typically displays when you're around. Strangely, this vulnerability lessens your fear. You reach out and touch her face, gently placing your palm against her cheek, and she leans into your touch.

“Do you care about me?,” she asks, her voice coming to soothe you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you care about me, y/n? Tell me, please. I need to know.”

In an instant, any remnants of warmth and comfort vanish, swiftly replaced by a surge of anger within you.

“Shuri, how the fuck are you even asking me this right now? Do I care about you?? You killed Jonathan!”

“Yeah, and he tasted fucking delicious,” she snarked back. At that moment, you no longer cared about holding back the tears you had struggled so hard to keep in check in front of her. It felt futile.

“Are you…? Shuri, I beg, fuck outta my house…like right now!”

“Do you really want me to go though?”

You did, you wanted her out of your face but there was a part of you that wanted her to stay and learn more, though you decided to push it to the farthest corner of your mind for now.

“If I remember correctly, you told me you were relieved that he was gone.”

“That doesn’t make it ok,” you spat. Shuri sits back down, manspreading on the couch and she looks ridiculously delicious. How pathetic of you to find the attractiveness in her even in the midst of the anger she fueled through you. She tells you to come sit beside her but you opt for the couch in front of her instead and she chuckles at you.

“I just…you can’t be mad at me for reacting the way I am.”

“Who said I was mad?”

You took a brief pause, granting yourself a moment of composure as you regulate your breathing and wiped away your tears. Shuri sensed the warmth emanating from your body and tuned into the steadier rhythm of your heartbeat before she proceeds.

“I just have one question for you, is that ok?”

You nod.

“Are you relieved because of who he was? Or are you relieved you no longer have an obstacle that is getting in the way of going after what you really want?”

“W-what?”

“Don’t play stupid.”

“I-I don’t--”

But you were cut off by the swiftness of her body approaching you and it startled you. She was in front of you in less than a second, her figure was nothing but a blur as she ran to you, traveling at the speed of light.

“How did you--” and once again Shuri hushed you with the raise of her finger.

“You ask me about honesty, telling me to come clean to you and all I’m asking is the same from you. I need your honesty as well. And maybe you won’t give it to me today and that’s ok because if there is one thing I have in this life of mine, it’s time. But I need you to relax, just breathe. I know there’s a lot more swimming in that mind of yours and I am willing to clear it for you if you let me.”

You finally allow yourself a moment of calm, inhaling deeply numerous times as your mind relaxed into her even just for a brief moment. She made it so hard to stay mad at her, even for something as viscous as the things she did, she always, always knew her way around you. The two of you sat back down, eagerly waiting to see who would break the silence. You had a multitude of questions to pose, but for now, you chose this one.

“So are you like…dead?”

A soft smile appears on her face. “I prefer the term undead but yes, I died so technically that makes me dead.”

“You died,” you repeat her words to yourself and Shuri nods and there is most definitely a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“How?”

Her manner transforms, her brows knitting together as she adopts a more rigid seating posture. “It just happened, I guess.”

Confusion sets in. Why would she permit you to ask all the questions you need, only to respond on her own terms?

“Shuri, your hostility is really starting to piss me off.”

She pauses, her face tainted with frustration.

“You said I could ask anything and you would tell me.”

“No, I said I’d tell you anything you need to know.”

“And I don’t need to know this??”

“No, you really don’t.”

“So one minute you're telling me I can ask all the questions I want but when I overstep your boundaries, you back away. Uh uh, that’s not how we’re doing this. I ask. You answer. Or I’m not doing this, Shuri.”

“This? And what exactly would this be, y/n?”

“That’s not my point.”

“Then what is your point?? Don’t I deserve answers too?? Don’t try to play stupid with me, y/n. It may have worked for him but that shit does not work for me.”

A brief interlude of silence engulfed the space, one that almost broke you but Shuri continued to speak.

“I’ll just leave you be for now because you clearly have a lot of thinking to do as well.”

Once more, she leaves you, leaves you with just enough to drive you mad.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

2 weeks pass by and you have not seen or spoken to her since that day but your thoughts have been consumed by her non-stop. You took the time to do your own research, trying to find things out for yourself but you were met with even more questions by the end of it. You continuously pull your phone out, wanting to meet with her again, but everytime you gather up the courage to type the message, fear would make you delete it.

You prepare for bed, doing your usual night time routine and when you turn around to go to your bedroom, she is standing right behind and it scares you out of your mind.

“Shuri, what the actual fuck??? You scared the living shit outta me!!”

Shuri laughs lightly, finding amusement in your pissed off state.

“That shit ain’t funny, you almost gave me a heart attack. Quit doing that.”

“I don’t know, your reaction is kind of funny.”

“Shuri!!”

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. It’s just…you never called, I was beginning to worry.”

“There’s no need to worry, I’m perfectly fine. Plus these things go two ways. Haven’t heard from you either.” Your torn is harsh and short tempered.

“Are you still angry with me?”

“Yes.”

“What did I do now?”

“Are you here to tell me what I want to know?”

“Yes and no.”

“I don’t know what that means”

“You will.”

You maintain silence, growing weary of her ongoing games. You walk right past her, rolling your eyes in frustration as you head toward your bedroom, and she trails behind, following you inside.

“If you’re not gonna tell me anything, you can go,” you say as you plop into your bed.

“Actually, I was thinking I could stay the night,” she remarks, casually taking a seat on the bed beside you and getting comfortable. The idea triggered a mix of unease and excitement. Having Shuri in the same bed as you opened the door to countless fantasies your mind could explore, but it also carried the potential for things to become…ugly.

“What? I’m not going to eat you,” she quips, reading your unease and responding in a playful manner. You clench your teeth, attempting to conceal the subtle fear creeping in because even though you know she was simply toying with you, it raises another question: did she have an appetite for your blood?

“I’m serious, y/n. You know that right? I won’t hurt you.”

You pondered it in silence a bit longer before responding to her.

“Fine…but stay on your side of the bed and don’t even think of trying anything,” you remark with attitude and Shuri, per usual, only laughs at you.

“Whatever you say,” she replies with her hands in the air. You roll your eyes in aggression before shifting in your bed, making yourself comfortable as you endeavor to drift off to sleep, lulled by the sound of your own breath and the absence of hers. Your heart races for a while until it finally settles into a deep slumber, a sleep in which you experience the most vivid dream in your entire life.

➳ the dream:

You wake up to the sound of unsettling echoes of a distant battleground, the anguished cries of people you loved and cared for pierced your ears. You had never felt so much fear in your life, disoriented and overwhelmed by your grim surroundings. You never felt so willing to help and use your Bast-given powers that had been passed on to you ever since your brother entered the ancestral plane but it was when you attempted to get up that you realized you were deeply wounded and you could barely move, the healing effects of the heart-shaped herb becoming slow. You were overcome by an excruciating physical agony, you struggle and weep, the most horrific pain you've ever known taking over you. Amidst this suffering, a distant cry reaches your ears, nearly snuffing out your last breath.

“YINTOMBI YAM!!” (“SHE’S MY DAUGHTER!!”)

“Akayi kuphumelela, kumkanikazi wam! Ukuba uyahamba, siya kufa sonke! Uya kufa!” (“She won’t make it, my queen! If you go, we will all die! You will die!”)

“Hayi, hayi intombi yam! Hayi Shuri yam!! Bast ndicela ungamthathi uShuri wam! Sele uno T'challa, hayi uShuri wam, nceda !! NDIYACELA!!" (“No, not my daughter! Not my Shuri!! Bast please don’t take my Shuri! You already have T’challa, not my Shuri, please!! PLEASE!!”)

The cries were violent, compelling you to move toward them, yet your feeble body refused. Your heart raced, the blood pulsing through your veins as if in a rush, leaving you breathless, and the world seemed to constrict around you under the scorching rays of the sun. The warmth enveloped you, vibrant and teeming with life, a stark contrast to the disturbing sounds that surrounded you.

“Uya kuba kunye nezinyanya, uKumkanikazi uRamonda. Uzakuba noT’Challa.” (“She will be with the ancestors, Queen Ramonda. She will be with T’Challa.”)

"Hayi hayi!!” (“No…NO!!”)

The echoes of agonizing cries gradually diminished until they were nothing, your vision faltering as breathing became a struggle, your body shutting down faster than the healing effects of the heart-shaped herb could manage. Your life was slipping away, breath fleeing your lungs, and you made the decision to embrace it as you faded into a state of nothingness and you saw the ancestral plane for a small moment, its beautiful sky right within your grasp until you suddenly awoke with a sharp inhale and a vicious cough.

You were greeted by the serene night sky, accompanied only by the chirping of crickets and you were startled once you noticed a woman seated before you, her face unfamiliar and her accent foreign to your ears.

“Who—who are you??,” you asked, but she did not answer. “How did you get into Wakanda?”

You adjusted your body to stand, surprised that you were completely healed with no sign of injury or pain. “Did you do this?? Heal me??”

Again, you were met with silence until finally she spoke with a grin. “Something like that,” she quipped, teasing you as she sat man spread on the log below her. The treescape surrounded you, the darkness overwhelmed you and you should be cold but you weren’t.

“How did you do it?? What kind of science is this??!!”

But the woman merely chuckled, finding amusement in your perplexed state and the endless questions you directed at her. "Science," she reiterated, almost tauntingly.

“Who are you??,” you asked once more, this time with more demand but still, she gave you nothing. “I-I have to go back to the palace. I have to see my mom, she thinks I’m dead! I heard her cries!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You won’t even tell me who you are! Why should I listen to you??”

She shifted her posture, and under the moon's gentle glow, you noticed an unusual quality about her. Her face, though seemingly perfect, bore eyes that were anything but human; glassy, with a hue of blood-red. This sight filled you with fear, urging you to flee, racing into the forest in a desperate bid to reach the safety of the palace and escape the woman who instilled such terror in you.

As you ran, you began to realize how you moved much faster than ever before. Your senses heightened, capturing details and sounds that were previously beyond your perception. The overwhelming influx of sensations left you both stunned and astonished. The world appeared silent, yet it roared with sound. Every rustle, every detail in the darkness of the forest was vividly clear to you.

You pinpointed this experience to the heart-shaped herb, pondering the potential existence of Bast. Could this be a miraculous gift from the ancient power? But when you got to the palace, that was when you would learn, learn it had nothing to do with the herb or Bast. You climbed the towering walls, reaching your mother's bedroom window, opening it cautiously to avoid startling her but your unexpected appearance had the opposite effect. Fear flashed in her eyes and she wanted to scream but she didn’t.

“Unyanisile ntombam?? Usisiporho??" (“Are you real, my daughter?? Are you a ghost??”)

“Hayi mama, ndim! Ndiyaphila! Ndilungile! Andifanga…” (“No mother, it’s me! I’m alive! I’m ok! I didn’t die…”)

“Kodwa…sikubonile. Ubumkile...njani-” (“But…we saw you. You were practically gone...how-”)

“Kulungile mama, Bast undigcinile! Wandomeleza, wandomeleza, ukuze ndoyise iintshaba zethu. Ndiphilile, mama." (“It’s ok mother, Bast saved me! And he made me powerful and strong so I can overcome our enemies! I’m ok, mother.”)

Your mom was taken aback, startled by the way you so openly claimed that Bast saved you when you never believed in such spiritual things before but she did not question you. Her overwhelming emotion was simply relief that you were alive. Your mom was sobbing, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably as she embraced you, holding you as if it were her last moment and you welcomed her in, finding solace in her warmth and familiar scent as you nestled your nose against her neck..and that is when you heard it.

A distinctive rhythm that captured your attention, the steady thump of her heartbeat, so pronounced that it drowned out any other ambient sound. The pulsating rush of blood through her veins accompanied it and it brought you a feeling that was so unclear yet simple at the same exact time. You struggled to comprehend what you were feeling, but the more you resisted, the harder it became to contain. A fiery sensation engulfed your body, saliva pooling in your mouth beyond your control, an overpowering urge rising within you, craving her life source more than you craved anything else before.

“U…uyayiphunga?,” (“Do…do you smell that?,”) you asked, your face still buried into your mothers neck.

“Unuka ntoni?” (“Smell what?”)

"Ndiya yidinga." (“I need it.”)

“Ufuna ntoni, ntombi yam?” (“Need what, my daughter?”)

“Momma…”

"Yintoni, Shuri??" (“What is it, Shuri??”)

You held her so tight, you felt like you could break her and your mother screamed in pain as she felt a crack in her ribs. You were breaking her.

"Umama?? Mama ndiyaxolisa...ndiyaxolisa kakhulu," (“Mother?? Mother I’m so…I’m so sorry,”) you choked out in a state of terror, the sound of her ribs cracking haunted your ears as you held her. Tears brimmed to your eyes as you struggled to let her go, your eyes burned with a wicked venom as your thirst gnawed at your whole body and took away any sense of rational thinking. And suddenly she was gone, no longer in your arms as you looked at the mirror in front of you and saw Shuri’s reflection staring back at you, her mouth covered in blood.

Abruptly, the scene changed and it was no longer your mother in your arms but another woman. She was beautiful. She had deep, dark eyes and skin to match. Her hair was as thick as a lush forest, full of vitality and texture. Her lips are as full as ripened fruit, tempting and inviting.

“What are you waiting for, Shuri?,” she said to you, her voice breaking through your psyche in such a calm, inviting way and you wanted her. Wanted her to be yours forever.

“I want to be with you. Forever. Turn me.”

A surge of guilt briefly tugged at your emotions but that was quickly overridden by an intense longing to be with her until the end of time, an overwhelming love that you had never thought was humanly possible and probably because it was not humanly possible to feel as deeply as a vampire feels.

“I want you to do it, Shuri. Turn me. Please. I want this.” Her dark brown eyes shimmered with a blend of desperation and love and you were so scared. So scared to cross your boundaries once again but the thought of not being with her forever scared you even more.

"Please," she pleaded one final time before you pressed your lips to hers, savoring the warmth of her human essence before trailing down to her throat, delicately grazing your mouth across her tender skin and her pulse whispered against your lips. Opening your mouth, you descended, piercing her veins with your teeth and you moaned as her life source flowed into your mouth, embracing the flavor you desperately needed. And you did this until everything dissolved into an abyss, an engulfing darkness that consumed you until finally, you woke up. And you were you.

You woke up with a commotion of feelings; you were confused, hurt, and scared. Glancing to the side, you found an empty bed, leaving you to wonder if Shuri had even visited your place last night or if it was all part of a dream.

The day unfolded, besieged by thoughts you struggled to push away. No matter how hard you fought, your dream clung to your mind, refusing to dissipate. As night descended, Shuri arrived along with it, standing on your balcony and for the first time, she knocked.

“Shuri?”

“Nkosazana.” The sudden language change throws you off as you step aside to let her in. She has food in her hand, no doubt for you of course.

“Shuri…what language is that?,” you ask with the most curiosity you have ever had so far.

“Xhosa,” she replies without so much as looking at you, emptying the bag of food as she assembles it on your dining table.

“Is that your native language?”

“You never noticed the accent?,” she responds, still not looking at you.

“No, of course I noticed the accent but…Shuri…where are you from?”

Shuri pauses, her entire body freezing momentarily before she resumes.

“Are you Wakandan?”

“So you know about Wakanda?”

“Of course I know about Wakanda. I couldn’t escape it not too long ago, it was all over the news and everything. The world’s most powerful and technologically advanced. A secret hidden in Africa. Home to the…Black…Panther,” your voice trailed off towards the end as you suddenly remembered the reflection staring back at you in your dream. The reflection of Shuri with blood on her lips wearing what you now recognize to be a Black Panther suit.

“Shuri, I need you to tell me something.”

She looks at you for a split second but says nothing.

“Were you…were you the Black Panther?”

Once more, she remains silent, almost entirely disregarding you as she finishes preparing the food. You stand there, observing with genuine admiration. On any other day, her tendency to ignore you would drive you up the wall, your lips ready to hurl curses and demand answers, but this time, you allow her the moments she needs to compose herself. You saw her in a whole new light and you sympathize with her.

Shuri pulls out a chair, signaling for you to sit, and you comply without zero fight on your end as she takes a seat across from you. You bite your inner cheek, plagued with even more questions than you had before.

“You can talk now,” she said, breaking the silence. You took a bite of your food, before proceeding with your abundance of questions.

“What happened last night? What was that??”

“I little trick I like to call ‘dream manipulation.’”

“So you were in my head?”

She nods.

“You made me see…your past?”

Another nod.

“But it’s not like I was watching you. It was as if I was you. I could see, hear, and feel everything you felt as if it was my own. I felt everything.”

Shuri sits there and remains in an unbothered state, only waiting to hear what else you had to say.

“So you were the Black Panther then? A long time ago…or whatever.”

“Mhmmm.”

“What happened?”

“You saw what happened.”

“I know but…I want to hear it from your mouth! A lot happened and I need answers, Shuri! Enough with this unbothered facade you got going on here and fuck you! Answer me!”

Shuri’s nostrils flare as you push her temper, but she quickly swallows it down as she comes to realize that you have every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized for your outburst.

“Don’t be. You have a right to know. It’s just…my brother, T’Challa was the Black Panther up until his life was taken from him and the mantle was passed down to me and then I became the Black Panther. We had enemies, enemies that wanted our resources and our vibranium…stories that are still happening today. I was seriously injured one day in combat, so injured that my loved ones left me for dead. And then I met her. I still don’t know who she is but I know what she was. A monster who turned me into this. Thinking she gave me a second chance at life when she should’ve just let me die so I could be reunited with my brother.” Her voice sounded shattered, burdened with hurt and remorse, and your instinct was to comfort her, to alleviate her pain. But as a feeble human, what could you possibly offer to ease her suffering?

“I never saw her again, the woman that turned me. My maker.” She said that last part with nothing but disgust. “And I hated her…for a long fucking time. I still do. I had to learn to fend for myself, had to teach myself to control my thirst and survive in this human world on my own. It’s been such a long and lonely journey. And everybody leaves. Everybody.”

You sat there, your ears and heart open to her as she fought the tears that loomed on the brink of falling. You so badly wanted to jump into her arms and cradle her, promise her everything was going to be ok but those were not your promises to make. There was nothing you could give her and you felt so small and helpless.

“Shuri…I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. I just…it has been years since I have said that out loud.”

A faint smile touched your lips as you extended your hand towards her. Despite harboring more questions and unresolved moments, you decided to set them aside, at least for the moment. Shuri reciprocated, reaching out and delicately taking hold of your hand, pressing it to her lips in a desperate gesture as she kissed your skin.

“I want to take you somewhere,” she says.

“And where would that be?”

“It’s a surprise.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You are in your car, but Shuri is at the wheel, navigating deeper into the dense forest. It's dark and somewhat intimidating, and you begin to wonder how Shuri is driving without headlights down the quiet road, until you recall her mention of her incredible eyesight. Finally, after what feels like an hour, Shuri steers into an extremely secluded area. The quietness is disrupted as you hear something other than the chorus of crickets; a gentle sound of water and soft waves. It's a vast lake, so expansive that it could easily be mistaken for an ocean from your perspective.

Shuri opens the car door and extends her hand, and this time, you accept her gesture. Leading you to the lake's edge, the moon was so big and bright, casting a luminous glow upon the night sky and the surrounding stars. The scene is breathtakingly beautiful and grand, the most picture perfect setting for a perfect moment with the person you wanted to be around the most.

“It’s beautiful as fuck out here,” you commented.

“This is where I live. You see that house hiding behind us? That’s my place. It’s where I come every morning and hide away. It’s where I come to just be…free. Free from this world and be who I was made to be.”

“So you do actually have a home? No coffin??,” you joked and she lightly laughed with you.

“So what else can you do? Show me. There’s no one around us, I want to see you being you.”

Shuri raised an eyebrow. “What is it you want me to do?”

“When I was…you…in my dream, you gave me a taste of what it felt like to have your body. When you ran through the forest that night to go back to your mom, I felt your strength, your speed, all that stuff. I want to see it. Show me the cool side of vampirism.”

Shuri tilted her head in contemplation, a pensive smile appeared on her face as she pondered the idea. Typically, she engaged in these activities alone, leaping through the trees, melding with the forest, maneuvering in ways the human body couldn't fathom.

"Fine then," she says, rising swiftly before running towards the trees at an astonishing speed. As she reaches the trees, the reality is beyond your imagination. Her body effortlessly launches onto a branch, beginning a mesmerizing journey from tree to tree, flipping and diving in ways that leaves you smiling in complete and absolute awe. It appears as if she's floating, moving with such speed that gravity seems to chase her, almost a blur in motion. You had never seen someone look so…free. And as she comes back down to meet you, moving faster than your eyes can track, there's no sign of fatigue or weariness. It's the most alive you had ever seen her.

“That was…wow,” you say in complete shock and Shuri laughs at you.

“It’s pretty neat, I guess,” she replies with a smug grin and it makes your stomach tingle. Shuri sits in the sand near the lake and you follow her.

“Do you like being one?”

“Hmmm?”

“A vampire…do you like being one?”

“Sometimes.”

“What’s your favorite thing about it??”

Shuri chuckles, dipping her head between the arms she has perched on her hiked up knees. “I like being able to manipulate people’s dreams,” she replies, shocking you with her answer. “I don’t sleep so it’s the only way I can dream, I guess.”

“No sleep??”

She shakes her head.

“What about your least favorite thing?”

Shuri goes quiet before answering, pondering the many ways she could answer this question.

“The blood lust. Being frozen. Watching the world change but staying the same.” She says this while looking out at the lake, taking her bottom lip into her mouth.

“Do you think you’re a bad person, Shuri?”

Shuri looked at you, eyes scanning your genuinely curious face before she proceeds. “I’m not sure. It’s not so black and white. It’s this weird thing, like…vampires emotionally feel so deeply but we were cursed with the primal instinct to hunt, feed, and kill. It’s like…with humans…when you guys get hungry, you simply go make yourself a sandwich or something, right? Fix yourself a quick meal. With vampires, it does not matter what we feel…that feeling always becomes hunger. If I’m angry, I want to eat someone. If I’m sad, I want to go eat someone. Horny? Eat someone,” she chuckles. “And then you’re left with nothing but an overwhelming guilt. It’s exhausting. Humbling, in a way, to say the least.”

You swallow, utterly captivated by her and every word she has to give you. This version of Shuri is vastly different from the person you've known over the past year. Seeing her in all her openness and vulnerability makes you realize that you never really knew her and it's only been in these recent days that you've felt so deeply connected to someone in a way you've never experienced before. You could sit here and ask her question after question after question, but there were a few that burned at your heart and it hurt you to ask, but she placed the questions there with the dream she fed you last night.

“Shuri…may I ask you something else?”

“It’s all you’ve been doing, princess. What’s to stop you now?”

“Well…I was wondering if you could tell me what happened to your mom.”

Shuri hung her head low, trying to get lost in the grains of sand and the mere sight of her made you regret your question but once she let out a hefty sigh, you knew it would be ok.

“I went back to the palace that night…the night my life was taken from me and to this day, it was the biggest mistake I had ever made. I thought my senses were some kind of spiritual doing from the heart-shaped herb, that Bast had given me a second chance, how foolish of me!” She buries her head into her hands and you lean forward, not sure what to do but let her have this moment of mourning.

“She thought I was a ghost at first, that I was reaching her from the ancestral plane, claiming that she had watched me die and she most definitely did but I did not know that…yet. She held me in her arms and I did the same and it was at that moment I knew something was off. Her heartbeat was so loud…like a drum pounding in my ears and it overtook me. My throat burned and I could smell her blood and I had never wanted anything more in my life. I wanted it so bad and it scared me. And I made sure that…that I would have it…” She choked on her tears, sobbing into her forearm and you kneeled forward to bring her head into your chest.

“I was brand new, y/n. It was damn near impossible for me to control it. And with no maker to rely on, no counseling or guidance, I was ruthless. An infant vampire and the taste of her blood was the most…feeling that for the first time, it surpasses any human experience. And it disgusts me to say it but I am being honest.”

She sobs in your arms, accepting your embrace as she feels comfort for the first time in years. The feeling was so foreign to her, to feel loved and accepted for who she was, despite acknowledging that she was the monster she believed she was.

“You didn’t know any better, Shuri. You can’t blame yourself for being thrown into this against your will and not knowing how to cope with it. It’s not your fault, baby,” you cooed, lulling her into your warmth as you comforted her.

“That’s what I thought at first, what I told myself for years. But that was my mother, y/n. My flesh and blood. You would think a daughter's love would surpass anything but that just goes to show how strong the thirst for blood is, especially in the beginning. No human equivalent. And it haunts me to this day.”

“Shuri—“

“I left Wakanda, for good, after that. Left them without a protector, without a ruler…I don’t know how they managed to pick themselves up after that but clearly they did. And I’ve never been back. I would love to…go back, one day. But I can’t. Not with the reminders it would bring.”

She lets out a few more soft sobs before she proceeds. “But hey, I managed to make it on my own. No maker, no guidance. I was ruthless in the beginning. Most vampires are.”

You feigned a smile, one that was just for her. “And what about the girl in my dream? Who was she?”

“That was…she was a dear friend of mine. Someone I loved. Someone I cared for.” A tear falls down her and washes into the fabric of your shirt. “But it does not matter anymore. She’s gone now.”

“What happened to her?”

“What happens to all humans, I suppose. She died. Never got close to a human after that. I tried…many times but they would all run eventually and understandably so. You are my first--the first person who has stayed with me. It scares me, really.”

Shuri gets up, coming face to face with your own tear-stained cheeks as she gently wipes them away with her thumb and you let out a soft smile.

“Soooo…no fangs? No cool eyes? Aren’t vampires supposed to look cool?,” you joke half-heartedly in attempts to lighten up the mood and put Shuri’s aching heart at ease and it seems to work because Shuri lets out a beautiful laugh, that laugh that you have loved for a long time.

“Would you prefer I walked around with red eyes and fangs??”

“I don’t know, you’d look kinda hot,” you half joke and she glares at you in both confusion and admiration.

“Walking around like a twilight vampire,” you tease and she makes a face of disgust. “Heyyy, don’t do Twilight like that. They’re good movies.”

“Fuck that,” she laughs and you laugh along with her.

“You’re really beautiful, Shuri,” you say, leaving Shuri in a subtle shock.

“Where did that come from?”

“I’m not blind. I may have been with someone our entire friendship but I always saw you and you were always beautiful to me.”

“Oh, so now you’re being honest with me? After you had me begging like a fool,” she teased.

“I’ve always loved you Shuri, you know that. You just wanted to hear me say it.”

Shuri chuckles. “Love…what a strong word, thrown around like it weighs nothing.”

“No but I do love you, I’m not playing. I love this version of you. The version of you where I actually know you. Where you let your guard down and just be…you. I love you.”

Shuri sighs, basking it all in. It’s been so long since she’s heard those words and it scares her.

”I wanna try something, if you’ll let me.”

“Anything,” your words rushed out with a tinge of desperation, revealing more than intended, driven by an urgent longing. You craved her, yearned for her presence. Her gaze locked onto yours, her eyes mirroring the same desire, as she tenderly traced your cheek. Finally, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours, and in that moment, you both embraced each other as if it were the last breath you'd take. The kiss ignited swiftly, your breaths turning erratic as you struggled to match her fervent passion. Gradually, she lifted you, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around her, never wanting to break away. She carries you across the small beach, bringing you into her house and not once did you two disconnect your reckless lips. The kiss itself spoke volumes, telling a story of how much you two yearned for one another, conveying unspoken feelings that had resided within long before you ever knew of Shuri’s true vampire nature. The heat between your legs began to rise, becoming warmer and wetter as you felt your clit brush against Shuri’s lower abdomen and that minimal friction alone felt like it was going to be the death of you. Shuri feels what you are trying to do and she grabs your ass in response, helping you feel more as she pushes you into her and it causes you to moan into the kiss.

“Mmm,” you moan, a sound that drove Shuri mad.

“That was fucking sexy,” she remarks and you cannot help but feel a tang of embarrassment for the lust you had for her. Jonathan was never one to tell you how sexy you were to make you feel desired, but instead to feed into his own ego of having you underneath him.

Shuri sits on the couch as you situate yourself on top of her, your crotch above hers, still kissing in pure intensity as the spark between you both transforms into an uncontrollable flame. Your lips were so swollen and sore, but it's inconsequential in the face of everything else. In that moment, nothing exists except Shuri, and your determination to be with her is unwavering. Shuri's kisses leave your lips, shifting towards your jaw and down to your throat as you struggle to hold in the moans that threaten to spill over, your heart beat intensifying. Shuri grasps your ass once more as you begin to grind, your actions portraying sheer desperation as you chase the friction that Shuri’s body gives yours. Shuri's hands reach for hips, guiding your movements and you squirm under the weight of her direct kisses upon your throat. Your heart thumps erratically, syncing with the pounding in your pussy and you are drenched.

“Shuri…please,” you whined, as she bruised and marked your tender throat. “I need you, please.”

Your desperate plea drives Shuri insane, hearing your voice in its deepest sensual urgency was enough to make her take you right there and then.

“You have made me wait way too long to have you like this, s’thandwa. I hope to fuck you at least half as long.”

Shuri lifts the hem of your skirt before her hand finally finds her way to that spot she needed for so long and she groans at how much you are soaking through the material of your thin panties.

“Bast, baby. You’re soaking wet,” she murmurs softly, and you nestle your face into the arc of her neck, concealing both the embarrassment and the warmth that rushes to your cheeks. But she assures her baby girl that there's nothing to be ashamed of, affirming that she had always sensed when your pussy longed for her.

“It’s ok, baby. I love seeing you like this. Let me see you.” Her voice was so smooth and sensual, a velvety depth mixed with a husky rasp that made your head spin as she stroked you though those thin panties, pressing the fabric between your folds as she taunted your throbbing clit. Your whimpers were small and short-breathed as you came back up to face her, your hopeless expression coming to meet a face that was ready to tear you apart.

“I could always tell when you were turned on, nkoszana. I could always smell when this little pussy needed me, so there’s no need to shy away now, do you understand me?”

And you’re nodding your head fervently, almost absentmindedly as you struggle to truly grasp your surroundings with Shuri’s long fingers playing between your dewy folds.

“Want to watch you cum in these little panties of yours.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Look at you. You’re so fucking pretty like this.”

“Shuri…unh…pl-please.”

“Did he make you cum?”

“Mmmm…huh?”

Shuri chuckled in a cocky manner, a self-satisfied sound that rolled off her tongue as she felt a sense of superiority over you and your body.

“Jonathan? Was that his name? Did he ever make you cum?”

You can hardly even think with the way she was touching you, her firm fingers deliberately swiping at your clothed clit.

“S-sometimes,” you managed to say and that much was true. Sometimes he would make you cum, not because he was taking the time to learn and understand your body but usually it happened as a result of him chasing his own high. A lot of the time you would not even finish and he did not even care to make sure you did.

“Only sometimes?,” she teases, a deliberate tactic to understand how to handle you while also reveling in the sight of your mouth faltering and stumbling.

“F-fuck h-him. Unh…fuck.”

“Hmm?”

“Fuck J-Jonathan. I’m glad he’s g-gone. Oh.”

Shuri smiles at you, an arrogant grin as she basked in the mess you were as she toyed with you. Shuri’s fingers pick up the pace, pressing firmer into your clit and the waves of your orgasm begin to crest through, approaching in silence as your firmly gripped Shuri’s shoulders. Your hips are bucking into her as your pussy drools through the fabric, leaking directly onto Shuri’s fingers and the sounds coming out of you are too far gone for your control.

“Shuri, Shuri…yeah! Unh!”

“Cum, y/n. I want to see you fall apart from my fingers.”

“Mhm.”

Your orgasm quietly emerges, a slow, measured sequence that pulsates through your pussy walls as you surrender entirely, collapsing into Shuri’s arms as you ride the waves of your high. And Shuri talks you through it, whispering assurances of love and telling her girl how pretty she looks as her greedy pussy soaks all over her fingers and slutty panties, caressing your clit through the lingering aftershocks as you grapple with the descent from your gradual climax. Overwhelmed, you clutch her wrist, the struggle evident in your lungs as they battle to regulate your breathing, your mind lost in a haze.

“Shuri...I…fuck, baby.”

“You’re so messy,” she remarked with a smirk, hooking those dangerous fingers underneath the fabric of those panties that hugged your waist, tugging until the thin material pressed into your clit and you moaned at the sensitivity. She brings her fingers down and pulls them to the side, your slick sticking to the fabric and Shuri’s eyes flood with lust and desire, burning with a deep hunger that surpasses the blood that lives in your veins. She craves you in every single way. She brings her lips to yours, her eyebrows scrunched together as she ripped the panties off of you and you gasp, finally free of the thin line that was keeping you from Shuri’s skin and she lifts you up once again, taking you into her kitchen as she roughly knocks away anything in her way and places you down on the cold marble countertop. Shuri lets go of the kiss, crossing her arms as she removes her top, coming face to face with her defined abdomen and lean arms.

“Open your legs, y/n. Let me see her.”

You oblige, opening your thick, brown thighs and your pussy glistened before her. There were strings of cum that stuck to your inner thighs as your slick refused to detach from your pussy, creating a web of your arousal and the look on Shuri’s face sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, I have to taste her.”

“Then do it. Let me use your mouth.” You were still so delicate and sore from Shuri’s overwhelming touch but you desired more. “Let me fuck your face.”

Shuri got on her knees, bending before the melanated goddess before her as she wrapped her arms around your thighs, resting the back of your knees on her shoulders as she spread you open, coming face to face with the mess she created. You look down at her, admiring the way her arm muscles flex as she wrapped them around your thighs, watching the way your cream stuck to the side curls on her head as she dove into your ocean, wrapping her lips around your swollen clit and you arched your back at the sensation.

“Oh fuck…yes, Shuri, YES! Just like that, baby.”

Her mouth and tongue played with your clit, fucking in and around you in an overwhelming harmony that had you grinding into her face and she allowed it, allowed you to use her face as a means to please yourself. She moaned into your clenching cunt, finding the taste of you being better than she had ever imagined and her fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, sure to leave an imprint the following day.

“Unh, unh, unh, oohhh. Yeah.”

She could tell you were getting close, the way your thrusts into her face became more aggressive, the way your pussy continuously got wetter by the moment, and the louder your moans were getting, it was all telling of your impending climax. But she tells you to hold it in, keep it in longer so she can play with you more, feel your pussy clench around her tongue for a few more moments as she watches your clit grow larger with each slurp.

“I c-can’t, baby. Please. I'm gonna cum.”

“Not yet.”

“B-but—”

And your pussy is met with a sharp slap of Shuri’s hand that makes you yelp.

“I said not yet. Understand?”

And you nod your head frantically, your knuckles losing its color as you clutch to the ends of the marble countertop.

“Good girl.”

And Shuri dives back into you, consuming your essence as if she was ignoring your whimpers of overstimulation above her but she heard you, and she enjoyed the sound of you. Your cries were soft and fragile, a mere whisper of distress as you struggled for the woman below you, wanting to make her happy, give her the pleasure she received by pleasuring and having her way with you. You grasped onto Shuri’s curls, feeling her coiled hair through your fingers as you tussled with your orgasm that was on the brink of breaking through.

“Sh-Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm??”

“Please, baby, please. I have to.”

“I know, my impatient girl. You can cum now.”

“Oh…OH. FUCK.”

You fucked yourself against her face, her tongue moving in and out as her nose bumped your clit and you watched your cum trickle along the angular contours of her jaw, glistening against the richness of her beautiful complexion.

“Oooo fuck. Shuri.”

Shuri took one last lick through your folds, attempting to clean you dry but your continual leaking for her made it impossible. She stands on her two feet, resting between your opened legs as she’s greeted with the most vulnerable version of yourself, visibly struggling to recover from the intensity of your orgasms and it was that sight of you that nearly caused her to lose complete control.

“You’re shaking, y/n,” she cooed with a tease. “I’m just getting started with you. I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“Mmmm.”

“Is that what you want from me? Does getting fucked by a vampire make you wet?,” she asks in a condescending tone. You cannot answer with words, no matter how hard you try and so you nod your head in sheer desperation.

“You will be broken by the time I am down with you. Ruined for anyone who tries to come after me.”

You could hear her voice, yet you were deeply disconnected, unable to fully grasp the profound meaning behind her words and it was so apparent to Shuri that she felt she had to resort to communicating to you telepathically in an attempt to reunite your mind with your body.

“You’re ok, s’thandwa. Follow my voice.” The voice in your head pulled you back to reality, your pussy was still aching but your mind was at ease.

“Now listen to me, y/n. Being with a vampire is nothing like being with a human, especially that little boy you almost called a husband. I’m going to fuck you, and I’m going to fuck you good. If at any point I’m going too hard or I’m hurting you, I need you to let me know.”

“Mhmm,” you manage to say. She cups your face in her hands, brushing the tears that sat on your waterline with the tips of her thumbs, and god, she was in love with you.

“You’re so pretty, y/n.”

“Please, Shuri.”

“Please, what?”

“I want—need you…”

“Mmmm,” she hums knowingly, her eyes dark and seeping in lust as she teasingly drags a finger through your sopping folds, and you wince at her touch, simultaneously wanting more and running away from the stimulation her touch gave you.

“Please? Please, Shuri? I n-need you. Unh.”

“Ssshhh, I know baby, I know. I want to take my time with you.”

Your soft whines of overwhelming pleasure climbed up your throat as she brushed her fingers between your puffy folds, purposefully avoiding your clit and it is enough to make you lose your mind but this is how she wants you; desperate, needy, craving more. But once she presses your clit, you let out a wail as you softly cry at her touch, tears falling down your cheeks.

“My little cry baby.” Her voice is condescending, belittling as she plays between the swollen flesh.

“That’s right, y/n. Cry for me. Show me how much it is.”

“Fuck me?,” you whimper.

“Bast, you’re needy, huh?” she says with a smirk, your desperate plea shooting an ache into Shuri’s pussy because she needed you just as bad, her vampire lust surpassing that of a human experience.

“I know I am…it’s just Jonathan…he n-never—”

“I know, princess. It’s ok. I got you now, I’ll take care of you.”

“Unh.”

“Oh sthandwa, I’m going to fucking ruin you.” She said this like it was a promise, like she was sure no one would come after her and if they did, they wouldn’t make it too far. You moan as Shuri plunges her fingers into your cunt, falling in love with the way you immediately clench around her, your greedy cunt letting more slick pour out for her.

“My pretty slut to ruin.”

“I don’t care, just ruin me.” You buck your hips into her fingers in desperation, craving more and more from her and you were so embarrassed with how loud your pussy was, how much your clenching walls needed her but you didn’t care enough to stop yourself.

“Please, baby, pleeaseee,” you beg. “Fuck me, Shuriiiii.”

Shuri chuckles, licking her lips as she salivates at the sight of you, finding it increasingly more and more challenging to restrain her hunger. She could sense your heartbeat growing louder, sense the blood flowing through your veins and your pussy walls, and she wanted it, wanted you. She wanted to witness your struggle as she claimed from you what sustained her life as she fucked you into another realm of sex.

“Oh fuck,” you whine as Shuri's touch finds the bundle of nerves inside you, intensifying the throb within your walls as your pussy squeezed her fingers. She swiftly took her fingers out, leaving you to whimper at the emptiness you felt yet that sensation quickly dissipates as Shuri starts swishing your clit from side to side. Your eyes roll back, and uncontrollable groans take over.

“Unh…Shuri…fuck, I’m gonna—you’re gonna make me—“ but Shuri immediately detached from you, your slick sticking to her fingers and creating a trail on the floor.

“You’re a messy girl, huh? Fuck…open your mouth for me.” And you do, moaning at the taste of your own flavor and the sight makes Shuri so horny, so wet, she cannot stand to not be inside you any longer. She wanted to feel how deep you were as she buried herself inbetween your dark thighs, get lost in the way your pussy swelled up with each hard thrust she fucked into you. Shuri removes your top and her bottoms, leaving you both in nothing but your bras just before Shuri fiddles with the device on her wrist, her strap snugly fitting to her waist. Your eyes subtly widen at the size of her, she was much bigger than that fucking man you hated so much. Shuri grabbed her shaft, slowly pumping it as she brought it to the swells of your folds, rubbing her tip against your overwhelmed clit and you whimpered at the touch. She puts the tip in, and you immediately clench around the sheer girth of her tip, letting out a soft scream as your body grapples with her size.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be fun to play with,” she comments with a sly smile. She lifts you up and you wrap your legs around her once more, your clit is pressed into her dick making your kisses turn into cluttered moans as you pant into her mouth. She grabs your ass and presses you into her, guiding your hips to grind into her until finally you meet her bedroom and your back hits her mattress, her lean but muscular body hovering over you as she purposefully made sure her shaft caressed your clit. She continued to press fervent kisses into your mouth, in awe of the way your mouth struggles to reciprocate those kisses as you feel her dick moving between your folds, caressing your bulging, beating clit.

“Look at you, how helpless you are,” she taunts as your breathing picks up.

“Shuri pleeasseee,” you whine, so overwhelmed and loving the way she took her time with you. This was all a new feeling to you, your mind and body being loved and explored and it was almost all too much, but your need for her overtook that feeling. Shuri removes herself from on top of you, resting her back against the headboard and she gestured for you to come sit on top of her.

“Take this off,” you complain, gesturing to her bra. She grins before crossing her arms and removing her bra. Her perky breasts were so beautiful and you could not help but take one of her erect nipples into your mouth and it causes her to moan, a sound you could never get tired of.

“Turn around for me.”

“But I won’t be able to see you.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’ll feel me.”

“But—” and she cuts you off by snaking her hand around your throat, causing an immediate gasp to escape your lips. She applies a gentle pressure to your windpipe, deliberately restraining her vampire strength to avoid hurting you. You revel in the way she makes you feel, sensing her containment of crossing the boundaries of her strength and it makes you feel dizzy. Using your throat as a grip, she turns your body towards the mirror.

“I love how you look when you shut up,” she whispers into you, her palm still firmly placed around your neck and you stifle a choked whimper, grasping onto her forearm as you feel her veins protruding through her human-like skin. She takes her tip once again, placing it between your sopping wet folds and your eyebrows clench together in anticipation.

“You ready, princess?”

You nod, and finally, finally you feel full, filled to the brim as her dick moves inside you, stretching you out in ways you have never before and she feels devine. You knew in that instant, she had left an eternal mark on you and you wanted to keep her inside you forever. Shuri whispered praises into you, making sure you knew just how much your needy pussy was squeezing her dick, how deep and wet you were as she thrusted slow, harsh movements that reverberated into your pussy walls and it fucked your mind up. Your moans were staggered, uncontrolled sounds as Shuri’s hand remained around your throat, pressing kisses into your shoulder.

“Shuri,” you cried and she removed her hand from your throat, and when you thought it was over, she unclipped your bra, grazing the material over your nipples as she brought the skimpy fabric to your throat, brushing it over your trachea and you swallowed in anticipation, understanding what she was going to do next and you allowed it. She pulled it, pressing the fabric hard into your windpipe, not enough to choke you completely, but just enough to have you gasping as you left your breathing to her. The act was so sensual and heightened the pleasure that coursed through you as she continued to thrust into you, trailing her other hand down your torso until she reached your clit, circling your bud excessively.

“Oh fuck, Shuri…yes, YES. UNH.”

She admired the view in the mirror in front of you two, got lost in the way your breasts bounced with each hard thrust she pounded into you, the sweat and drool that trickled down the valley between them and you were both a wreck, both so close to your release.

“That’s it…that’s…fuck. That’s a good girl. My good girl.”

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again, Shuri. Can I? Please?”

“Mhmmm,” is all Shuri can manage to say as she approaches her own orgasm, tugging the fabric into your windpipe and you let out a strangled moan.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m cumming. Shit, don’t stop fucking me. Keep ch-choking me j-just like that. Oh…unh.”

Your orgasm surged within you like a forceful, tumultuous wave, roughly rushing through every aspect of your existence. It started in your pussy, pounding through your throbbing walls before spreading through your veins and dominating your entire body. It was seraphic, a celestial pulse that made you squirm against her, moaning through it as you noticed Shuri approaching her own high but she quickly dug her face into the nape of your neck, an attempt to contain her own moans that threatened to escape her throat.

“Fuck…y/n…,” she sobbed into your skin.

“No, d-don’t do that. Fall part for me, Shuri. I w-want to see it. Let me see what I do to y-you, baby.”

“N-nkoszana…”

“Cum inside me Shuri. Please.”

With her vampire speed, she switches the position so you’re lying on your back and you’re met with the hunger that surged through her eyes right before she pressed her lips into the side of your throat as her moans sink into your skin.

“I-I can’t,” she whimpers. “I need it. I need you.”

And immediately you understand what she’s talking about. She wants you. All of you.

“Unh.”

“Ssshhh, baby, it’s ok. Drink from me, Shuri. I know, just…please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she struggles to say in your neck and your heart races. Everything is pounding. Your head. Your heart, Your pussy. And you were so overwhelmed but she was buried so deep into you, her thrusts were so surreal and you were no longer fearful of the woman above you. She was unraveling before you, revealing her true self and desires, baring it all before you.

“I-I—“

“I know Sh-Shuri…it’s ok. I promise, it’s ok.” You’re grasping her curls, moaning into the curve of her neck and she lets out one last beaten whimper before she sinks her teeth into your throat. It hurts at first, a sharp pain that scared you but the more you basked in it, the better it felt. Her plunges into you were getting sloppy and uncoordinated and it did not take long before you could feel her dick twitch inside you, grazing your walls as her cum spilled into your used pussy. It was an exchange of want, giving you her cum as she took your blood and it only took a few more messy pumps until you were cumming as well, one last blissful orgasm as your mind danced with stars. You are both moaning in each other's necks, the pulse in your pussy slowing down, a hard yet slow beat that had you twitching and your heartbeat felt the same. As Shuri continues to drink from you, you begin to feel dizzy, lightheaded, your physical body needing her to stop but your mind and your pussy ached for more.

“Sh-Shuri…I-I think—unh.”

“Mmmm,” Shuri moaned, struggling to detach from you, in a world she craved for for so long as your blood brought her to a state of ecstasy. You were addicting, making it a struggle to stop as her body rushed with pleasure.

“Shuri…baby…”

Your breathless whimpers forced Shuri to release you, her face drawing closer to yours, yet she looked so different. Her dark brown eyes transformed into a blood-red hue, her fangs fully extended, and her mouth stained with your blood. The image frightened you at first and Shuri looked away in shame, attempting to conceal the face she despised so deeply.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, ashamed of herself.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Don’t hide from me, Shuri. I-I want to see you. The real you.” Raising your hand to her face, you guide her gaze back to yours and slowly, she complies, exposing herself openly, displaying her true self and she was hauntingly beautiful. You tenderly caress her face, appreciating the intense red in her eyes, the sharpness of her fangs, and your blood trickling beneath them, her mouth colored crimson from the intimate exchange.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats and you gently hush her.

“Ssshhh, it’s ok, baby, it’s ok. I’m not hurt, ok? You didn’t hurt me. You did amazing, my love. You did so well.”

She nods and as you lean in to kiss her, the flavor of your blood meets your taste buds and though it isn’t pleasant, the significance of the act outweighs the taste. Shuri cleansed your lips of your blood by licking them, then did the same for herself before withdrawing her strap that was still buried inside you.

She runs her tongue over the blood that stains your neck before planting a kiss on your forehead. Cradling your head in her hand, she gently leans your forehead against hers and whispers:

“That was better than I ever imagined.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Both of you lay sprawled against her bed sheets, cuddling against her chest as you bask her scent while the sound of waves crashing not too far away filled the air.

“I have one more question, and then I think I’m done.”

Shuri chuckles at you. “And what would that be, s’thandwa?”

“So vampires are like…dead, right?”

“Undead.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever…I just wanna know…how exactly does one become a vampire?”

Shuri raises her eyebrow. “Why do you need to know that?”

You roll your eyes. “No reason, I’m just curious. Like there obviously has to be some kind of process.”

“Well of course there is.”

“So then tell me.”

Shuri gets up, presses her back against the headboard and you straddle her. She eyes the bite mark on your neck, tracing the unhealed scar and you wince.

“So fragile,” she whispers, almost mockingly and your heartbeat escalates and Shuri hears it, causing her to softly chuckle.

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re always laughing at me, so what’s funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just…I love the way your body responds to me.”

You gaze at her in confusion and she only stares at you in admiration, a profound sense of affection and tenderness reflected in sharp gaze. Her expressions held an unspoken language, a silent conversation that speaks volumes of how much she loved you.

“To become a vampire, you need to be dying, at the threshold of death. Then a vampire will give you their blood to drink, once that blood enters your system, it will kill you completely.”

You softly gulp.

“And then the blood will ‘fix you.’ Rid you of any scars and imperfections, rid you of wounds and disease until your body is brand new and strong and gives you back your life, making you the strongest you’ve ever felt. But not without consequence…of course.”

“That sounds…terrible,” you softly laugh.

“Trust me…it is,” she chuckles along with you, drawing you closer for a kiss that you wish could linger forever.

“The sun will be coming up soon. You’ll have to stay here until it goes back down, I won’t be able to drive you home until then.”

“That’s fine,” you reassure. “I’m tired as fuck anyway, I’ll probably just sleep here.”

She nods in agreement.

“Shuri…?”

“Yes, y/n?”

“I lied earlier…I actually have one more question.

Shuri sighs. “Last one?”

“For now.”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “I’m all ears.”

You place a quick peck on her lips before you proceed. “You know I love you, right?”

“For a while now,” she teases and you flick her shoulder. “Is that your question?”

“No.”

“Well I’m waiting…”

A deafening silence enveloped your surroundings, overpowering Shuri's heightened senses, allowing only the distant waves' sound, the rhythm of your heartbeat, and your faint breath to echo through her ears. Your palms began to sweat, and you nervously bit on your bottom lip as you contemplated whether to proceed with your question. Shuri gazed at you, filled with anticipation, almost wishing she had the ability to read minds so she could put her own at ease.

“Y/n, you’re scaring me…what is it?”

Your eyes glistened, and she sensed the hairs on your arms standing on end, yet your voice shattered the silence with your burning question; one she had hoped never to hear again.

“Turn me?” ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Whew fuck, I need her baadddddd. Also, thank you so much for 800+ followers on here, that’s insane! Love you all and congrats if you made it through that long ass fic

[yandere-daydreams]

When he doesn't know when he's going to be back, Gojo makes sure to leave his door unlocked.

It's less freeing than it sounds. The first time, you thought he'd actually made a mistake, that he'd slipped up and given you a chance to bypass the blood-red talismen posted on every door and window and finally get away from him. In a frenzy, you'd stolen one of the many silver-plated cards he left lying around the house and thrown yourself out of that awful, stifling penthouse as quickly as you could. You'd spent the two weeks he was gone burying yourself in Kawasaki; emptying any ATM you came across, skipping from hotel to motel to hostel, too anxious to settle but too scared to do anything but hide. You'd considered leaving the city, then attempting to flee Japan altogether, but he'd come back before you could pull yourself together - picked you up in some cheap bar and taken you back home. There hadn't been a punishment, but you'd never gotten an explanation, either. You only realized he'd let you escape the next time he left for one of his 'work trips', the next time the door was left unlocked.

It was just practicality. You knew that. He could disappear for weeks at a time, and considering the constantly-sparse state of his kitchen, you'd starve to death twice over by the time he got back. You knew that he wouldn't let you out if he didn't know he could get you back, but still, you wasted months trying to get away from him - buying plane tickets that'd go unused, agonizing over destinations you'd never reach, packing bags just to be forced to unpack a few days later as Gojo watched over your shoulder, his grin condescending and patronizing and awful.

Even from a distance, he had ways to keep you where you were. If you made it to the edge of the city, one of his grinning, grimy friends would be there to forcibly escort you back to its heart. If you tried to go to someone else, someone with more authority for help, you'd be turned away with no comment beyond a pressed frown and warning not to make up something so outlandish again. If you tried to contact someone you knew before Gojo stepped into your life...

Well, you never got that desperate. He might be willing to let you stray, but his possessiveness ensured you strayed alone.

It didn't take long before you devolved, before you started looking for ways to get back at Gojo, since you couldn't get away from him. You don't know how many tens of millions of yen you spent on luxury resorts, upscale restaurants, anything you could buy or do or waste money for in a way you hoped, delusionally, would leave a dent in Gojo's bottomless funds. It wasn't long before you got sick of that, too. It was one thing to try to spite Gojo. It was another to try to get back at him while you knew you were still in his cage.

Really, why would you even try? It gets harder to run every time he leaves, harder to justify leaving home when you know you're only going to dragged back in a few days. It's all you can do to stomach the dread that knots in your chest as you realize - lying in your captor's bed, half-conscious as you feel a familiar chest press against your back after for the first time after many, many days of precious freedom - just how long its been since the last time you tried to leave at all.

[christinesficrecs]

Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷

I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.

Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.

Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K

The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.

Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K

The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.

Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K

“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”

It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.

“Then we have reached an accord.”

Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K

“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”

His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“

“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“

Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.

I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K

“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”

Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.

Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.

I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K

The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.

And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.

Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.

How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K

“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”

[iliketangerines]

I saw the tai lung thing and it got me thinking- what about a reader princess who’s like the peacock from the second kung fu panda movie- who got obsessed with creating weapons and used her high rank to do genocidal raids and when the knowledge comes to liu kang and his fighters they’re sent to stop her- which they do and liu kang ends up keeping her locked away in a chamber deep in the fire temple alone- but he soon figures out she’s just been blinded by rage and trauma- ((sorta fluff plus soft sex maybe if you want tot make it smut- or you could just do fluff and comfort))

you can be better

a/n: boom, you have leucism like lord shen in the movie.

pairing: liu kang x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy eating, creampies, mating press, slightest bit of overstimulation

Liu Kang watches as you hiss and spit out insults at his champions as they bring you in cuffs in front of Liu Kang

you look disheveled, angry, and you lunge at Liu Kang, only stopped by the heavy chains and his champions pulling back on them to keep you away from him

his champions look disheveled, and Johnny Cage looks heavily injured, suit soaking with his blood

Liu Kang dismisses his champions and takes your chains for himself and drags you to the dungeons of the Fire Temple all while you spit and hiss insults at him

he attaches the chains to the bolts in the cell and locks the door behind him, staring down at you as you start to struggle, chest heaving as if you realize the consequences of your actions

he tells you to think on your actions, to think on how many you have killed, before he walks away, listening to you scream and yell about how you regret nothing

he visits you weekly to check on your progress, and at first you only scream insults at him, demanding to be let out, and threatening to kill him

and then you ignore him and his questions, sitting silently in the corner of the cell and glaring at him as you eat your rice and vegetables

but he keeps visiting you and soon enough you sit by the bars of the cell and give him one word answers to his questions as you eat

finally, after a few months of persisting, you give him more than one word and instead small sentences about what you’ve been thinking about

he visits you more frequently after that, the only company in the lonely Fire Temple other than the monks and Geras

and as much as he appreciated them, you were something new, something fresh, no matter how silent or violent you got

one day, he reaches a hand through the bars of the cell to tuck your hair behind your ear, and you flinch back so hard that the rice bowl in front of you clatters onto its side

your chest heaves and a cold sweat breaks on your face as you scramble away from his touch

you go silent for a week after that, refusing to answer his questions, until you finally come back to the bars of the cell and talk to him quietly

he doesn’t press for any answers, just makes sure to tell you if he’s going to touch you and you let him, body stiffening at the touch but no other reaction

and finally, as he heats a teapot in his hands, you whisper in a quiet voice that you regret your actions, that you had acted out of rage and revenge and that it wasn’t right

he quirks an eyebrow but stays silent as he lets you speak

you explain that the city you had leveled, had destroyed in your warpath, was where you grew up, that you were born and raised there

but you were treated unkindly, that they touched you and grabbed any part of your body because you looked different

because you were pale, with white hair and red eyes, and they would make you sit in the sun and let you burn and cry and then beat you for looking different

it was painful, and you grew up resenting the city and had left the second you were old enough and made a name for yourself as a general

you hadn’t thought of your childhood home until a group showed up to the capital to look for help and had found you and immediately started to push you around again

and that, in your rage, you had decided to destroy the city, to get rid of your past for good

you cast your gaze down and pick at the empty bowl, and Liu Kang hums and tells you that he’s going to let you out of the cell and chains, that he wants to walks with you

you sit still as he enters the cell and unlocks your chains, hands warm and gentle as he unlocks the cuffs with a click

but you don’t run, you follow Liu Kang around the compound until he reaches his bedroom and leads you inside

he tells you to take your time in cleaning yourself up and to find him in his study when you’re done, and he leaves the bedroom and attends to his duties, making sure to ask one of the monks to find you clothes

he sits in his office, sipping on his tea, when you enter, hair freshly combed and dressed in a much softer attire than what you were wearing before

you sit down and drink tea with him in silence, and he can’t help but admire how you act, how you still reek of elegance and perfection after being in a cell for months

the two of you have idle chatter, and he tells you that you can study at the Fire Temple, to be alongside him and his champions for Earthrealm

you agree to his proposition, and so you integrate into the life of the Fire Temple

but still, you cling to Liu Kang closely, and the two of you grow closer

you’re never seen without him, and Liu Kang enjoys your company, your battle mind as he considers how to defeat the invading realms and Shang Tsung usurping the peace

one day, as you stand in front of the map, the light through the window framing your head like a halo, Liu Kang slowly, very slowly, reaches his hand to tuck your hair behind your ear

you glance at him, cheeks reddening, as he cups your cheek, and he asks if he can kiss you

for a moment, you hesitate, and Liu Kang thinks he has thought wrong in thinking that you liked him as well

but then you agree, and Liu Kang smiles and leans in close, placing a soft kiss on your lips and cupping the back of your neck gently

you melt into the kiss, bringing both of your hands up to hold into the shirt, and Liu Kang deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue into your mouth

Liu Kang groans into your mouth at the taste of you, and you whine in tandem before pulling away and resting your head in his shoulder

he asks you if he can take you to the bedroom, and you mumble out a quiet yes

Liu Kang smiles and hooks your arm through his as he walks to his bedroom, and the second the door closes behind him, he’s back on your lips

he walks you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, and you fall back onto the bed

he leans down and kisses you again, not getting enough of your taste, and you tangle your hands in his hair as your whine into his mouth

Liu Kang grinds his hips into yours, moaning at the friction on his cock, and you whimper into his mouth and clutch onto his shoulders

he trails a kiss down your jawline, reaching your neck and sucking deep dark hickeys into your skin, and his fingers dip between your legs and rubs at your clit through your pants

you pant at the feeling and grind your hips into the feeling, needing to feel more, and he smiles against your skin as you whine into the air

Liu Kang pulls away and strips off his clothing, and you get the idea and strip off your clothing as well until you’re both bare

he settles himself between your legs and moves back up to kiss your chest, covering it in hickeys

he trails open-mouthed kisses down your body, squeezing at the pudge of your stomach and listening to you whine, before lifting your legs onto his shoulders

he drools at the sight of your cunt, wet and needy for him, and he brings one of his hands up to spread your folds for him

you clench around nothing, and he groans at the sight before diving in, nose grinding firmly into your clit as he laps at your cunt

your hands fly down to grip onto his hair, and your back arches off the bed as your legs clamp around him

nothing could beat this feeling, how your plush and muscled legs wrap squeeze around his head while your wetness spills into his mouth, he’s truly in heaven

Liu Kang laps into your pussy desperately, needing to taste you more and more, and his nose just grinds so perfectly into your puffy clit

you whine and barely have time to warn him as your pussy clenches down on his tongue, and you cum into his mouth

Liu Kang whines at the taste, eagerly fucking his tongue into you to get every bit of your taste, and you whimper at the feeling

you beg, asking him for his cock, please, and he obliges, eager to please you

he crawls his way back, your legs still on his shoulders, and he pushes you into a mating press, your legs burning slightly at the feeling

he kisses you, and you whine at the taste of you on his tongue

Liu Kang grinds his cock into your soaked folds, the tip catching on your clit and making you needy and squirm in Liu Kang’s hold

he chuckles at you and lines up with you before sinking in slowly

he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as your cunt squeezes around, and you’re just so warm and tight around him, so perfect just for him

he thrusts his hips in and out of you slowly, and his thick cock bumps deliciously into your sweet spot

you squeeze your eyes shut and whine in pleasure at the feeling, and Liu Kang finds that he misses the sight of your eyes

he tells you to look at him, to watch him, and you open your glossy eyes to stare into his own

his hips snap into your with every long thrust, but you keep your eyes on him, face flushing dark and red as you whimper at the eye contact

but you’re so beautiful, so gorgeous, and he tells you so, that he will worship you on his knees, that you’re so pretty on his cock like this, that you’re taking him so well

the praise makes your eyes well up in tears, and you pant out that you’re close, you’re so close

Liu Kang hums, that he knows, and he sets a faster pace as he continues to shower you in place

his pelvis bumps into your clit with every thrust, and it makes sparks fly in your vision as your pussy clenches down on him and you cum

a loud keen leaves your throat as you do so, and liu Kang groans at the sound and buries himself deep as he spills his seed inside of you

he gives you slow shallow thrusts as you both ride out your high, and he leans his head down, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you

even as his cock softens inside of you and his cum leaks out of your puffy cunt, you two continue to kiss, blind and deaf to the world around you

but finally, you pull away to catch your breath, and you’ve never looked so beautiful, so gorgeous all flushed and fucked-out

Liu Kang needs more time to recover to love and fuck you properly, and so he makes his way down to your pussy, thick arms wrapping around your thighs and licking a fat strip up your cunt

you whine and tell him that it’s too much, but he tells you to let him worship you as he dives back in

neither of you leave the bedroom for the rest of the day

[qdbs-writes]

RE bois with Zombie!Reader that just wants to live in their tiny house in peace? Please?

RE Lads Reacting to Chill-Zombie!Reader

Leon Kennedy

You could have all the warning signs and barbed wire in the world around your little zombie house and Leon would still manage to bumble his way through your front door, yelling at you like you're the reason he's there.

He'll see that you're a zombie and instinctively round-house kick you into your tiny makeshift kitchen. He's about to rip the basil you were growing out of its pot when he notices how nice your little zombie house is. It was definitely better than his ratty apartment. Leon will have a small crisis of faith as he finally considers getting a bed frame.

Chris Redfield

Sees the words 'DON'T OPEN, DEAD INSIDE' on your little house and takes that as some kind of challenge. Surely whoever wrote that warning didn't mean him, what's the worse that could happen if he kicked in the door?

Off the door comes from its hinges, while Chris sweeps your one-room home with the barrel of his gun. He can't help but think to himself that this is a suspiciously nice zombie house. As his gaze reaches the last corner of your house, he spots you perched on your neatly made zombie bed, crocheting a little zombie blanket (even dead people need hobbies). When you continue to crochet awkwardly, albeit a bit slower than before, Chris decides he's made a terrible mistake, and backs out nervously, attempting to put the broken door back in its place as he leaves.

Carlos Olivera

He'd read the warning on your house as 'DON'T DEAD, OPEN INSIDE' and would still be like "This sign can't stop me; because I can't read!".

Deciding that the door would be too obvious of an entryway, Carlos instead sails through your window, knocking something over in the process. When he gets up, he sees you, a little zombie, sitting at a small breakfast table, watching the news on a grainy, antique TV. Carlos follows your gaze to his feet, where he sees the now-destroyed pie you had left to cool on the windowsill. Carlos is heartbroken as he remembers the pies his Abuela used to bake. Saddened at seeing your hard work go to waste, Carlos jumps into action. "Don't worry," he says "I can fix this!". He gets to work in your little kitchen and in no time at all, a new pie is in the oven. Afraid of breaking anything else, Carlos apologises one last time before he leaves, and you smile delightedly back at him.

Albert Wesker

For whatever bullshit reason he has to hide somewhere and decides the little, highly-defended cottage you live in would be perfect.

He slams your front door shut behind him, huffy and sweaty before he notices a surprisingly well-kept zombie nestled in an armchair, reading a book. Enjoy a healthy dose of silent, prolonged eye contact, until Wesker takes a look around the quaint, bombed-out hovel that you've made for yourself. Assuming you can speak, he's gonna have a lot of questions. They mostly center around if you would like to kindly enter this luxurious iron-barred box he keeps at all times... No, it's not a cage, it just looks like a cage! And no, the armed men with tranquilizer darts aren't here to hurt you, he promises!

Ethan Winters

Considering this man's luck, he'd probably come crashing in through your ceiling, groaning and cussing as he lands in a heap on your threadbare carpet.

Ethan sees that he's just fallen into your zombie house and wonders for a moment why bad things only seem to happen to him. But he struggles to get up after landing on his ankle. Steadily, you pull up a chair for him and make him a coffee, which was probably the most appetizing thing Ethan has had shoved in his face lately, so he drinks it. And it's not bad coffee either, maybe you used to work in a Starbucks. You and Ethan sit in amicable silence while he finishes his drink, thanking you quietly before hobbling out the door. He turns back as he leaves your garden and you send him off with a little wave. You were definitely a nice zombie.