#I’m definitely keeping it in mind for and future writing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gigabyte-flare · 8 months ago

Text

The Devil is Real (Part 1)

Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.

I hope you guys like thrill rides :3

The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail

April 22, 2008

Sis,

I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!

With all my love,

Vince

You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.

This letter, however, says otherwise.

“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned.

You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.

“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.

Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”

“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!”

You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.

Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other.

There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?

“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”

“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”

You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone.

“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen.

Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.

“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”

“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.

“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food.

“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.

“And who’s going to watch André?”

André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.

“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.

The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

May 15, 2008

Vince,

First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.

Sis

May 31, 2008

Sis,

I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Vince

You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.

The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.

Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”

Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”

You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”

You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”

“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”

“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”

You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”

You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”

You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on.

“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.

“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”

“If you say so…” you reply softly.

You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.

“Hey Sis, we’re here!”

After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.

“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”

“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.

You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.

“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it.

Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.

“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”

Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”

Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.

“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.

“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.

“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.

“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”

“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”

You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.

“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.

“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”

“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”

“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.

“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.

“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”

While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.

“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”

Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”

“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”

“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”

You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up.

“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”

Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.

“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building.

Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.

“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”

There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.

You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.

Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.

“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”

Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”

The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you.

As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.

Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”

For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief.

Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”

“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.

Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…

Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.

“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”

The man nods, “sí, claro.”

Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”

“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.

You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.

“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”

“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”

“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.

“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”

“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”

“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”

Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”

“Thank you, Father.”

She is perfect.

Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.

Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.

His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.

Part 2

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #plagas!leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove #gigabyte writes

626 notes · View notes

blackknight-kai · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, so i’m a lurker but I kinda decided to stop lurking and personally want to request if you can maybe write a headcanon of the Destined one or Sun Wukong when reader would occassionally glances at them but its only because Reader have a crush on them and is trying to play it off that they dont have a crush

Also love your writing-

Here you go!! One for each :) just because I feel like they’d be a bit different. (Also you’re so kind for saying you like my stuff 🫶🫶🫶)

You’ve got a crush but aren’t trying to be sussed out yet? Oh boy. Poor you. He’s noticed. 100% noticed you looking at him and the little awkward thing you do when you look away quickly.

Destined One:

- [ ] Does NOT know what you’re staring at him for.

- [ ] Absolute idiot when it comes to romance, he’s been too focused on his journey to care about that kind of stuff.

- [ ] Completely lost. Starts to wonder if maybe there’s something stuck in his fur or maybe you think he stinks or something, he doesnt know.

- [ ] It’s giving him a complex because WHY does he catch you eyeing him so much? (And why does it get under his skin?)

- [ ] Do you want to fight him? Is he doing something strange?

- [ ] Starts watching you closer than he already was, probably squints/frowns deeper when he catches your eyes lingering on him before you quickly turn away. His tail will start to twitch with annoyance because WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT AND WHY WONT YOU TELL ME?

- [ ] Does he look weird? Is there food stuck in his chin fur?

- [ ] It bothers him in more ways than one. Again, now he’s aware of it he cant stop wondering about it but also, the more he see’s you do it the more awkward he acts and he gets a bit shy about it.

- [ ] Makes his fur ruffle and makes him twitchy.

- [ ] Starting to like the way you look at him, eventually he will figure out WHY he likes it.

- [ ] Don’t stare at other people though because he wants your eyes on him regardless of if he realizes it or not. It will annoy him because he thought you only glanced / stared at HIM.

- [ ] Over time he will notice if your cheeks tint pink. It’s going to make him VERY intent on you and your flustered state. He’s already pretty intense anyway but now you’re going to have his full attention as he tries to decide if maybe look him makes you sick or something. Which he would HATE.

- [ ] He’d gonna start showing off (fighting or mundane tasks) especially if he notices you staring at certain moments - this will be an unconscious act at first before deliberate.

- [ ] At some point he is going to grab your chin as you look away and silently demand you tell him why you’re staring at him so much.

Wukong:

- [ ] He clocked you glancing at him almost immediately. He’s too vain and aware not to.

- [ ] That said, he doesnt know WHY. At first.

- [ ] He’s used to people staring, he does make a spectacle of himself very often. And in his mind, why shouldn’t people stare at him? He’s amazing and all the synonyms of that word. So at first he doesnt mind it since he figures you’ll get your fill of whatever it is you’re looking at him for.

- [ ] When you dont though and he keeps catching you looking at him, well now hes curious. A curious Wukong is a dangerous thing.

- [ ] Your glances are starting to get under his fur too. Because WHY are you peeking at him?

- [ ] If others were to do it he wouldn’t care, outside of maybe using it to start a fight with them, but you? Regardless of if he realizes it or not he’s falling for you and your eyes on him makes him feel tingly.

- [ ] He’s going to start testing you. Will definitely pretend he doesn’t notice you looking for a while.

- [ ] But he’s going to start doing certain things to note exactly WHEN you stare at him so he can determine WHY. Because apparently you dont want him to know, and he going to store that nugget for future mischievous opportunities.

- [ ] But also, what if you know something he doesnt? That isnt going to slide.

- [ ] So he watches you carefully as he purposely does things to see your different reactions to them.

- [ ] He’s gonna figure you out real fast though especially when your cheeks flush pink while you were staring at his chest, his shirt had gone a little more loose than normal (might have done that on purpose).

- [ ] He is going to have the fattest smirk on his face and his tail is going to swish behind him like the arrogant jerk he is. You like him. Or at least find him pleasing to look at.

- [ ] He’s going to amp up his “do things to make them stare” mission.

- [ ] “Oops I spilled on my shirt, I guess I have to take it off” or “look at me while I do this ridiculous unnecessary show of strength” kind of shit and always right in your view.

- [ ] As much as seeing you try to cover your tracks is funny and amusing to him, eventually he’s going to get impatient with it.

- [ ] He is gonna call you out. - however THAT conversation turns out is up to you.

- [ ] But now that it’s out in the open he’s going to make sure that whenever he does something he is going to look over at you expectantly like ‘Are you watching? Yeah you’re watching. Of course you are.’

#black myth wukong #sun wukong x reader #black myth wukong x reader #destined one x reader #bk kai writes #Good luck anon! They are too aware to NOT notice #LOL Wukong is always a menace #Poor DO he just never has a clue

354 notes · View notes

acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 year ago

Text

Practice On Me — Part Three — Azriel x Reader

Summary: It’s not an Illyrian party without at least one person starting a fight. Azriel is a jealous little shit. Y/N wants to put the smile right back on his face.

(I really don’t want to ruin this chapter for u but I finished writing it and all I could hear was Camilla Cabello in my head singing “I’llll be hooome for chwismois” — you’ll see why)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Some fiiiilthy language. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni 🌶️

It’s not that you and the others are trying to take advantage of Rhysand’s mother’s absence. But having an empty property at your disposal definitely comes in handy.

Particularly on nights like these, two weeks later, when the cottage is packed full with more people than it can reasonably host. There’s drinking and conversation and faces you don’t even recognise, and someone has brought Elpys Vine, a herb grown by someone’s sketchy great uncle on the continent that’s supposed to make you hallucinate.

Judging by the empty chair that a male opposite you keeps winking at, you think it’s probably having the desired effect.

The spot next to you dips down as Azriel takes a seat at your side. He hands you a drink, and so naturally, his arm drapes around your shoulders. It’s comforting — and also a relief, to know that things are still normal after what happened on this very couch two weeks earlier. Not a slither of awkwardness.

But your eyes have most definitely been snagging on every unfamiliar female around you and wondering if one of them could be the target of Azriel’s affections. If Kaeda is here tonight, he hasn’t said so.

Part of you wants to ask, and part of you…doesn’t. For whatever reason.

“This is definitely already way out of hand.” Az comments, cocking an eyebrow as he takes in the volume of people packed into the small space. “I thought it was supposed to be a small gathering.”

“That’s what Cassian told me, too.” You say, and then curiosity gets the better of you. You try to make it seem casual as you study the various females dotted throughout the room. “Is Kaeda here?”

Azriel’s eyes find yours, and he gives a small shake of his head. “No.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I didn’t invite anyone. That was Cassian’s job.”

You heave a very dramatic sigh indeed. Sometimes, Azriel is his own worst enemy.

Not that you’ve minded helping him so far — not at all. But surely there must come a point where he directs all he’s learnt at the intended person.

“I will make my move.” He tells you. “I’m just…not quite there yet. Still working on it.”

Fair enough, you suppose. Before you can say anything else, Cassian is suddenly slumping haphazardly into the space at your other side. One of Azriel’s shadows snakes out and clasps your drink before it can slosh down your front.

“Time for a game.” Cassian calls to the room, and you want to groan. Games with Cassian usually ensure chaos. “Let’s play Knife Point.”

There are enough enthusiastic responses that you know your reluctance will be wildly outnumbered. Knife Point is a game that’s used as a ruse to kiss as many people as you like — something you delighted in at fifteen, when kissing was still new to you, but you don’t feel quite the same excitement five years later. It’s pretty simple: a knife is placed in the centre of the table, and the players gather round. One-by-one, everyone takes their turns spinning the knife, and whoever the point settles on when it stops is who the spinner must kiss.

Basic, really. But Cassian loves kissing people.

You and Azriel share a look — one that says he’s no more excited for this than you are. And then you both crack a grin and settle into your seats, because you’ll always go along with Cassian’s shenanigans, even if you complain about them first.

“It seems only fair that the future high lord starts us off,” Cassian says, and slams a dagger down on the coffee table with unguarded enthusiasm. He grins at Rhys, who’s sat in an adjacent armchair with a curvy redhead on his lap. “Rhysand, darling — would you do the honours?”

Rhys flutters thick, dark lashes and gently removes the female from his thigh. “It would be my pleasure.”

The room watches closely as he spins the knife in a sleek way that has a few gazes heating. It spins fast, and then slows, slows, before landing on a female to his right whose name you don’t know. He angles himself towards her, and the smile he gives her most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in love, and the heated kiss he lands on her mouth most definitely has her falling head-over-heels in lust. She looks genuinely heartbroken when it comes to an end.

But then it’s her turn, and she’s kissing Jonan, an ex-fling of yours, and then Jonan is kissing Cassian, and then Cass is spinning the dagger and it’s pointing at you.

Your friend bellows a comical shriek of delight and jumps up so enthusiastically that this time, Az’s shadows can’t stop your drink from spilling. Cass is utterly oblivious as he turns to you with a wicked grin, holding his arms out.

“Come here, sweetpea.” He uses the nickname he’s called you for as long as you can remember. “Come make all my heated dreams come true.”

You snort, handing Az what remains of your drink and pushing to your feet. You intend to deliver a quick peck to Cassian’s lips, but so typically, he clasps your face with enough force to lift you from the floor, and his mouth lands heavily on yours.

Immediately, a chorus of jeers and laughs ring out around the circle. Cassian’s huge hand cups your jaw, and he kisses you like you’ve seen him kiss countless males and females before. It doesn’t matter that you’re his friend, an old comfort blanket — he gives you the exact same energy he gives them. He doesn’t do things by halves.

And the kiss certainly isn’t bad, if not a little strange. You can think of far worse people to be doing this with right now.

It goes on a little longer than necessary, and when you feel it deepen, feel Cassian’s tongue probing yours, you break away. Make a dramatic show of grimacing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Damn.” Jonan snorts. “You didn’t kiss me like that, Cass.”

Cass smirks. “You’re not half as pretty, nor half as arousing.”

They squabble, and the game continues, and you slump back down by Azriel’s side, already tuning out the noise. You turn to retrieve your drink, only to find Az draining the rest of it.

“Hey.” You knock your arm against his. “I was going to finish that.”

He stares forward, not even looking at you as he quietly replies, “I figured you were too busy.”

Your face creases into a frown as you take in the stiff, rigid set of his body. He’s damn near hunched in that corner of the couch, and it can’t be comfortable with how his wings are a little squished, but it seems almost as if…as if he’s trying to put some space between you.

You try not to think too much about it as you return your attention to the game once more. The knife continues spinning and people continue kissing, and only once does the blade point in Azriel’s direction, to which he tersely announces he was never playing to begin with.

It’s that which makes you realise the reason behind his mood going south. He’s only just started exploring the art of kissing with you, only just started becoming comfortable with it. The last thing he’ll want to do is make a whole song and dance about it and kiss a near stranger in front of a group of people.

Combine that with his natural aversion to huge gatherings, and it makes sense, now, why he’s clutching your empty cup so tightly, and the muscle in his jaw keeps moving.

When everyone else is distracted, you place a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You suggest. “Get some fresh air.”

But he barely looks at you. Just keeps staring forward. He shoots a quick, hard look in Cassian’s direction and rips it away just as fast.

“I’m fine here.” He says. “You knock yourself out.”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You know Azriel well enough to know when his social tolerance is at an all-time-low, and being at a party is the worst possible thing for him.

He goes more and more into himself, his brooding, and he seems to emanate an invisible signal that warns people to stay far, far away. Not even the drunken, giggling females approach him. The Shadowsinger is in a dangerous mood, and it won’t take much to set him off.

He doesn’t seem all that interested in talking to you, either, given that all your attempts have been met with quiet, one-worded responses. And so, figuring he’ll come to you when he feels like it, you wander off to get yourself another drink, and you sink into the throes of the party.

At some point, you feel a warm touch on your forearm, and you turn to find Jonan there. He’s a damn nice male — for an Illyrian. A little cocky, maybe, but kind. Not the sexist brute that so many of them turn out to be. You and he had been two eighteen-year-olds, excited about exploring each other’s bodies and sex in general. Realistically, it was never going to go anywhere, but you ended things in good spirits, and you’ve very casually fallen into each other’s beds on a few occasions since.

Judging by the way his dark eyes drink you in, you’re sure he’s hoping that tonight will end in the same manner.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” You say as you pull back from the hug he gives you.

His eyes seem to glimmer with flirtation. “Perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

You snort. “Or perhaps you don’t train close enough for us to run into each other all that often.”

That’s definitely it. The Illyrian males are sorted into different training groups based on a whole host of different things. Unsurprisingly, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel are in the most skilled group. Jonan is in a different one.

And it’s Jonan’s group, you know, that has just got back from a harsh training exercise that takes them away for weeks at a time. Which is the most likely cause of you having not seen him in passing.

Azriel’s group will be the next to go on one last training exercise before everyone breaks for the winter solstice. They’ll be setting off any day now, as soon as they’re called forth by their general. A few weeks without your three closest friends is a thought you don’t want to linger on.

“How was the training exercise?” You ask, genuinely interested. There will always be a part of you that wishes that was you, out there, putting your skills to use.

But you’re female. And females stay behind.

“Fucking brutal.” Jonan answers. “The weather is bad this year, so we were out there a week longer than we were supposed to be. My sleep pattern is still fucked.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes trail down your body. “Perhaps you can help me with that.”

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you mean to reply. All you know is that you’re not jumping at the offer of easy, mindless sex like you have done in the past.

But before you can respond, Jonan is stumbling forward, into you. Thanks to a huge, muscled body knocking into him.

He whips around to face Azriel, spilled drink forgotten in his hand. You didn’t even see Az‘s approach.

“Watch it, Shadowsinger.” Jonan narrows his eyes at him. “You almost knocked Y/N over.”

Azriel stops and eyes Jonan with clear dismissal. A rare, antagonising expression sits on his flawless features. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see any other shadowy fucks around here?”

One side of Azriel’s lips twitch up in satisfaction. So rarely does he waste his time looking for a fight, but he’s looking for one now — and has found one.

“What I see,” he says, and steps closer to Jonan, towering over him considerably, “is an irritating little cunt who’s in my way. Move.”

But Jonan doesn’t move. Like a typical Illyrian, he salivates at the prospect of a punch-up. He looks a little pathetic as he tries to square up against Az.

“Now, now, Azriel,” he sneers. “That’s no way to talk about Y/N, is it?”

And the mention of your name in Jonan’s mouth is all it takes for Azriel to launch himself at him. There’s not nearly enough room for this, and as he grabs Jonan by the front of his tunic and slams him against the wall, all sorts of surrounding objects go flying.

At once, everyone is turning to watch the confrontation. And so fucking typically, of all the people in the room, neither Rhysand nor Cassian are anywhere to be found.

Which means you’re dealing with this alone. Because nobody else will care to break this up.

You curse quietly and jump in just as Jonan goes to land a hit on Azriel’s jaw. He falters as you throw yourself between them as best as you can at the angle. It’s not great, but you manage to wedge an arm between them.

“Hey. Enough.” You snap, and it feels like all the times you’ve reprimanded the camp younglings. “Cut this out right now.”

Jonan scowls. And actually says, “He started it.”

It makes you never want to have sex with him again. Never have you been drier between your thighs.

“I don’t give a shit. It stops now.” You stare between them seriously, and then you’re firmly grasping Azriel’s arm. “Az, we’re leaving. Now.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation, like Azriel really, really does not want to give up the fight. But then he’s letting go of Jonan’s shirt, more or less dropping him to the floor.

“Fine by me.” Az fucking smirks at the male. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You don’t spare Jonan a single further look as Azriel grabs your hand and pulls you through the thralls of people, all disappointed at a fight not coming to fruition. But their attention is quickly stolen by something else, and you don’t look back as you and Az step out into the cold.

Az begins to walk as though the past minute never even happened. You’re quick to catch up to him and grab hold of his forearm.

“Hey.” Your breath clouds in front of your face in the cold night air. “What was that?”

Azriel shrugs. “It was nothing. He is nothing.”

“You—”

“It’s fucking freezing, Y/N. Can we just go?”

You stare back at him. The urge to pry more, demand an explanation, is a strong one. But it is freezing, and in this frame of mind, you’re not certain he’ll tell you anything, anyway. He’s in a strange mood — probably in anticipation of the upcoming training exercise. Perhaps unwisely, you decide to drop it.

“Go where?” You concede. The biting cold makes the decision to do so much easier.

“Dormitories. You can stay with me tonight.”

Dormitories is a very generous term for the limited accommodation that is offered to each training legion. Most of it sits unused, due to the majority of Illyrians preferring the harsh, toughening dwellings of tents and crumbling old houses in all extreme weathers. But a certain amount of small, draughty rooms are available, and Az tends to make use of his when the cottage begins to feel too crowded, and he needs a break from living on top of Rhys and Cass.

There’s no hammering droves of snow tonight, and you’ve patched up your boots enough to hopefully last you a little longer. A broad expanse of stars glimmers above you, making it a rather pleasant night for a stroll — or it would be, if not for the unavoidable presence of Azriel’s bad mood.

Your attempts at conversation are met with non-committal responses, and by the time you’re kicking through the peeling wooden door to the accommodation, you’re fucking exasperated.

Azriel can be very, very insufferable when he thinks himself into a foul mood.

You could go home, back to your father’s house — you certainly consider it as you follow Az into his cramped dwellings, but…you don’t know. You wouldn’t like to leave him like this. To walk away without seeing him crack a little smile. In nine years of friendship, you’ve never done so before. So you shut and lock the door behind you, and resign yourself to a very silent, very tense night.

You press your back against the door, watching as Azriel perches on the edge of the bed and removes his shoes. Through the walls, you hear the distinct sound of skin slapping against skin, and the building moans of a female close to climax. This miserable building is more often used as a place for a quick fuck than it is to actually sleep in.

But Az doesn’t seem to notice as he shrugs out of his clothing, quickly slipping on a pair of low-slung cotton sleeping trousers, and sprawls out across the mattress, wings fanning around him.

You’re not sure why you don’t move, at first. Or maybe you are.

Your gaze snags on the toned muscles of Azriel’s torso, and the smattering of dark hair that maps a line from beneath his bellybutton to what sits under his trousers. You’ve seen it countless times before, and yet you can’t stop staring.

Particularly when he stretches his arms above his head, and then drags a hand down his stomach. To him, it’s a subconscious act, but to you—

You can’t stop yourself zeroing in on his hand. The very hand that touched you and bathed you in a pleasure so stunning, so splintering, that you hadn’t dared to try and replicate it yourself since. Such inexperienced fingers had coaxed such expert sensations—

“Are you coming to bed?” Azriel’s voice drags you from your thoughts.

“…Right.” You clear your throat. “Yeah.”

“There’s a shirt for you in the armoire.”

You shuck off your clothes, digging out the tunic you often borrow from Az to sleep in. He barely spares you a glance, his eyes glued to the ceiling. You can’t help heaving a sigh as you pad over and slip beneath the blanket. The faelights wink out, and for a while, you both lie there in silence. It’s you who eventually breaks it.

“Are you going to tell me what that fight with Jonan was about?”

Az slings an arm above his head. “You were there. I’d hardly call it a fight.”

“No, I’d call it an overreaction.”

“Jonan’s an arrogant bastard and everyone knows it.”

He brooks no room for argument. And he’s not exactly wrong, either. You know Jonan gets himself into more brawls than the average person. But Az wasn’t exactly justified tonight.

But before you can think of a response, he says, quietly, “Sorry — if I ruined your night.”

You pause. And then roll onto your side, staring at his outline through the darkness. “You didn’t. I didn’t want to go to the party, anyway.”

There’s a tiny, soft snort. “Me neither.” He agrees. “But going along with Cassian’s ideas is the story of our lives.”

“That it is.”

Az says no more, does no more. And you…you hate it. Because it’s not simply that he’s sleepy and dozing off beside you. He’s just as awake as you are. And his mood is still heavy and tense.

You can’t stand it.

It’s perhaps against your better judgement that you inch closer to him, your mind already made up about how you might lift his spirits. It’s dangerous, because your arrangement has simply been about helping him, and he’s always been the instigator, knowing what he needs and when he needs it. Which he most certainly isn’t doing now.

But you would be helping him…in a way. And you can’t lie and say that it hasn’t bothered you, over the past two weeks, that you didn’t get to return the pleasure he gave you.

It would still be a learning experience. That’s what you tell yourself as you press against his side and drape your arm over his stomach.

Az pauses, but this isn’t unusual for the pair of you. You’ve cuddled like this plenty of times over the years — with your other friends, too. And so there’s no hesitation as he slides an arm beneath you and tugs you closer, his wing tucking you in.

You rest your head on his chest, and you murmur, “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

You really, really don’t.

You always miss your friends when they’re sent away, but it seems…heavier, somehow, this time. Like there’s more between you to miss.

That…that is not a good thought to have.

You banish it from your mind rather than dwelling on it.

Az’s hand presses against your back. “I’ll be home in time for Solstice.”

You hear the unspoken promise in that statement; the one Azriel knows you need to hear. Because this isn’t just about simply missing his company.

Solstice is…hard for you, to say the least. Being holed up with your father, him drinking from the crack of dawn until he collapses in a chair by the fire. His unpredictable, volatile moods and tendency to pick at you over every tiny thing. It’s the time of year you rely on your friends the most, and you spend the entire day waiting for your father to pass out so you can sneak away and forget him for a while.

Azriel’s bare skin is so pleasantly warm, lulling you back to the present. You shelve your worries for the time being, press your cheek against his pectoral, and breathe in his frost-and-cedar scent. His wing drapes over you, cocooning the two of you in your own little world.

And there’s no better place than inside that world to ease some of Azriel’s tension. Bring the smile back to his lips.

“…Az?” You whisper, slowly gliding a hand over his stomach.

His body tenses beneath you. There’s a pause before he answers, “Yes?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing…” He clears his throat. “Nothing much. What are you thinking about?”

The question is an opening for you to stop this right here. You could return a similar, half-assed response, remove your hand from his stomach and go to sleep. Like any sensible, reasonable friend would do.

Or you could be honest.

You could tell Azriel that your close proximity has you thinking all about the magic of his fingers, the sensations he wrought from you. You could admit that it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve thought about it since it happened — not at all. You could tell him that you’re still a little stunned, because besides yourself, nobody has ever made you come that hard.

You could tell him how badly you want — need — to return the favour.

And never one to back down from a situation, however daunting, you do exactly that.

“I’m thinking…” you murmur, and your finger begins to just slightly trace lines over his stomach. Your touch is so light, and yet you feel his body react beneath you. “I’m thinking that there’s more I’d like to teach you about touching.”

A little breath escapes him. “Oh?”

“Mhm.” That finger of yours gets a little bolder, making bigger sweeps over his skin and dancing close to his waistband. “But this time, I want to touch you. You made me feel so good, Azriel. I want to make you feel good as well.”

“You…you don’t have to do that.”

Gods, you know you don’t. You know this situation has never been about him expecting anything from you. Just a friend helping a friend out. No big deal.

But who says you can’t both get something out of it?

“I know I don’t have to.” You answer him. Your hand stops its movements, and you stare up at him, your eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out certain features. “And I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Do you want me to?”

A tiny, tiny little pause.

And then Azriel rasps, “Yes.”

It’s a guttural, gasping sound, and it’s so delicious that you want to swallow it.

You don’t hesitate in moving your hand up to his face. You angle it towards you. Slant your lips over his.

And you smile. There’s a mulled wine that Azriel far prefers drinking over the piss-poor ale that most males around here favour, and it’s not the first time you’ve tasted it on him. It’s pleasing to explore — the spices and berries and damp heat of his mouth a combination that coaxes you to slide your tongue between his lips.

Az seems pretty well comfortable with his kissing technique, now. He leans into it, not at all tentative, his tongue meeting the strokes of yours. And then he suddenly breaks away.

“I like—this.” He pants heavily, breath fanning your face. “I like doing this.”

The words make something glow inside you, because that is precisely what you want. This isn’t just about teaching him the technicalities of physical touch. It’s about liberating him from the barriers he’s built in his mind, and showing him how much he can enjoy it.

And your friend deserves that.

You plan to really show him.

You slide your hand over his hip and haul him closer, eliminating the tiny little gap that existed between your bodies. An act that makes him suck in a breath.

“If I do anything at all that you don’t like, you need to tell me, Az.” You stare at him. “Okay?”

He nods.

“I need your words. Swear it.”

“Gods, Y/N, I swear it.”

He kisses you this time.

He really does like doing that.

The kiss is hot and hungry, loitering on the precipice of being frenzied. Azriel’s hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers kneading the skin there. A dim faelight blinks back to life, bathing the two of you in enough warm light to see each other. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips.

But you don’t give him the chance to stroke at your mouth. There are a million other places you can think of kissing; a million other places you’re just as desperate to get your mouth on.

Your lips glide along Azriel’s jaw with the lightness of a breeze. He goes still, appearing to wait with bated breath to see what you’ll do next, and how it will feel. He’s never been kissed here before.

Nor at his neck. You kiss the skin gently, at first, and smile to yourself at the little breath that hitches in Az’s throat. Something told you he’d be amenable to neck kisses.

Indeed, he is, as you attach your lips to the column of his throat and suck.

It’s a soft ungh, this time, that escapes him. A noise of both surprise and delight. Perhaps he never before considered the sensitivity of the neck, how enjoyable it might be to be kissed there. It’s one of many things you want to be the one to teach him.

You suck and lave at the area until his stomach is caving beneath your hand, and then you’re moving on, dragging your mouth over his collarbone. Down to his pectoral.

His skin is hot but its taste is cold — cold, like his scent. Frost and snow, icy starlight, the whipping winds and thrill of flying. Gods, it’s all delicious, and you close your mouth over his nipple, desperate to taste more.

Azriel starts, his back arching just a little. Your eyes flit up to his as your tongue teases the peaked flesh.

“This okay?” You check, allowing your teeth to graze just a little.

“Yes.” Az breathes. “I never considered that that might feel good for—for a male, too.”

You smile, repeating the action, fastening your lips totally around the nipple and giving a gentle suck. It earns you another quiet sound in response.

But you don’t want quiet. You want to make your friend feel so good that he can’t keep a lid on those sounds. The muscles of his stomach are quivering under your palm, and you decide it’s unfair to make him wait any longer.

So as your tongue circles his nipple, you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers.

You’re careful, even though you know the sharp intake of breath is a positive one. Nobody’s hands but his own have ever ventured here. You want him to be aware of every touch, every feeling.

Your fingers skate over the dusting of fine, coarse hair. And lower. And then your hand is on his cock.

The mere weight of your touch drags a breathless little noise from Azriel’s throat. And you pause.

Azriel is big, even by Illyrian standards.

From touch alone, you can feel its length, its thickness. You’re not entirely sure you can fit him in your hand, let alone anywhere else.

But gods are you willing to try.

You take your time exploring every detail, starting at the smooth, swollen head — already leaking a droplet of moisture —and circling its rim with your finger. Azriel’s hips jerk, and you smile, removing your mouth from his nipple to kiss further down,

“Still doing okay?” You ask, coasting your lips over his ribs. The pads of your fingers stroke over the head of his cock slowly, casually.

But there is absolutely nothing casual about Az’s voice as he grounds out, “I’m doing great.”

“Want me to keep going—”

“Please.” The word escapes his mouth before you can even finish the sentence. “Please.”

You smile, and you scoot lower down his body, giving yourself the perfect angle to explore the muscles of his abdomen with your mouth, your tongue.

It allows you to feel the exact moment you glide your palm down the length of Azriel’s cock, following the long, jagged vein.

Gods, it feels like it goes on forever.

The skin is velvety, smoothing over every vein, every bump and ridge. You explore it all, as much for your enjoyment as for his. You can’t imagine what it must be like to feel it sliding in and out of you, hitting a spot so deep inside you that you’d have to bite the mattress—

A thought you should not be having. It isn’t going that far.

And there’s a twinge of disappointment at that fact. But now isn’t the time for disappointment.

You trace the length of Azriel’s cock all the way down to his balls, and he’s trembling beneath you. You tug at his trousers, whisper, “Can I pull these down?”

It might be silly to ask, given that your hand is already well beneath the fabric. But you want him to have a choice in everything.

So when he gives a firm nod and lifts his hips for you, you tug the cotton trousers down, peeling them easily from his hips.

Azriel’s cock springs up. And it…it might just be the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen.

You damn near moan at the sight of it.

But before the sound can escape you, you smother it by pressing your lips to Azriel’s stomach. You kiss the skin, lap at it, graze your teeth over it. And your hand returns to his hardened length.

Finally — fucking finally — you wrap your hand around him.

Azriel makes a gasping sound at your touch, his hips canting up into your hand. He’s so responsive to your touch that you have to clench your thighs together to ignore your own arousal. This is about him. Entirely about him.

It’s about him as you slowly begin to pump his shaft, peppering kisses down and down until you’re at his hip. It’s about him as you squeeze gently and hear the hitching of his breath.

“So responsive,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hip.

“Is that—gods—” He hisses between his teeth as you pump a little faster, “—is that a good thing?”

“Very good, Az. I want to know that you’re enjoying it.”

“I am. Fuck, Y/N, I am.”

“Good.” Another kiss lands on his skin. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise drags another noise from the depths of his throat — the loudest he’s made so far. You don’t know whether he’s simply gaining in confidence, or whether he’s losing control. Maybe both. Hopefully both.

And you think you might lose control, too. Watch with rapt fascination as the head of his cock leaks, and it’s swelling, thickening in your hand, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

You really want to taste him before he falls off the edge.

“Holy gods,” Azriel pants, his teeth biting into his lower lip. “Y/N, I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Don’t fight it.” You lick your lips. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

The question makes him fucking groan, and he chokes out an affirmative response, his cock rutting into your hand. You know he’s close, and you want him to finish. Preferably on your tongue.

And when you slide your mouth onto his cock, you know that’s going to happen.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him into your mouth as much as you can.

Azriel shouts, his head falling back, eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You suck on him, tongue tracing the length of the vein that’s beginning to throb. He doesn’t seem to be aware of the way he slides his hands into your hair, his hips rolling.

“Y/N,” he pants, your name languid and slurred on his tongue, “m’sofuckingclose.”

You pull your mouth off of him long enough to say, “Look at me. Watch me while you come.”

And then you’re sucking him again, your hand wrapped around the base of his length. You pump and lick him and bob your head in time to Az’s hips canting against you, and you think the sounds he’s making may just be the most beautiful ones you’ve ever heard.

And he watches you so closely, his brow furrowed, his lips parted, his chest heaving. Your gaze collides with his, and you’re hollowing your cheeks and giving a particularly harsh suck.

“Oh, gods, Y/N, fuck!”

Azriel spills into your mouth, shot after shot coating your tongue. You take it all, swallowing greedily, savouring the saltiness and the hint of something else that is just Azriel. It seems endless, and so do his groans, his constant string of curses, the jerking of his hips and the trembles wracking through his entire body.

You damn well suck him dry. Not a drop is spared.

As you finally pull him out of your mouth, wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glimpse his shaking, sated form, you know you’re committing the sight to memory. For when this is all over.

He’s…he’s a vision. Head still tipped back. Stomach and chest still heavily rising and falling. Pleasure still pinching his face. His hands are fisted tightly in the bedsheets.

You leave him to come down from his high. He’s still panting a little when his head lolls forward, and his eyes meet yours.

“That was—” His voice cracks a little. “God’s, Y/N, I don’t have words.”

“It’s okay.” You press a gentle kiss to his stomach, tucking his sensitive length back into his trousers. “Words aren’t necessary. You did so well.”

His arms are suddenly around you, tugging you up and against him, your body slanted slightly over his. All the earlier tension from the night is gone, and it’s just you and him, your love and friendship, your unbreakable bond.

Az holds you tightly, burying into your hair. And you think that this was maybe more than just…you returning a favour. You think this might have been a soul-shifting moment for him. Something that released him from the invisible bindings that have held him back for so long.

And it saddens you a little to think that that might be the end of it. That you’ve done all you can do.

But still, you’re honoured to have helped him this far. To have guided him through it.

“Thank you.” He whispers, dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. He’s still trembling, and he tucks himself in tight as if he’s worried he might break. “Just…thank you.”

You don’t quite know what to say. It feels a little…final, and you don’t like that.

So you simply nestle into his side, and you repeat your earlier truth, your voice a whisper. “I don’t want you to go on the training exercise.”

Because you know you’ll miss him more than you ever have before. It’s going to be far harder this time.

What, exactly, that means…you can’t bear to think of it right now.

And there’s no need to as Az holds you tightly, kisses your head again.

“I’ll be there with you on Solstice.” He says. “I promise.”

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

1K notes · View notes

sapphicvqmpires · 4 months ago

Text

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ who are we?

vampire series | shuri udaku | part 2

Pairing - vampire!shuri x black fem!reader

Word Count - 19.4k (listen…either grab your popcorn or keep scrolling lol)

Contains - smut (18+), fingering, cunnilingus, clit play, overstimulation, choking/breathplay, biting, edging, strap-on sex, blood drinking, descriptions of blood, homophobia, angst, fluff, Shuri being a hot vampire asshole

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - As the words fell from your lips, a wave of warmth surged through Shuri’s undead heart and she swears she felt it beat for a second. Each word and syllable echoed through her vampire mind, a mind that knew loneliness and despair like no other but in came you, the light at the end of the tunnel and she swears she could die from how much she loved you. "Turn me," you repeated one last time, your voice carrying a soft insistence rather than a question. You caught a fleeting change in the color of Shuri's eyes, though she quickly masked it but you definitely noticed the subtle shift.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @cafehyunji @ventingfanfics @marsology @desswright29 @sweetalittleselfish-honey @kisskourt @dayedreamm @mcqueeferson @dejaonline (comment if you want to be tagged in future fics, 18+ only)

Writers Note: I’m so so sorry, this took so long, but I wanted it to be perfect and I had so many periods of being unmotivated, I didn’t want to force myself to write when I wasn’t feeling it. But thank you so so much to everyone that stuck around and was patient with me, I’m sure all the sneak peeks and shit were frustrating but we’re here! Grab your popcorn and enjoy my loves :) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Part 1 - who are you?

November 23rd, 2411, New York (continued…)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You were at a genuine loss for words, and it appeared she felt the same way. It had been quite a while since the last time you spoke with her, and even for a vampire, it truly felt like a long time ago. You broke the silence with the first thing that came to mind; the simplest way to ease back into the dialogue and it was a question you truly wanted to know the answer to.

“How…how have you been? Where have you been?” Your voice shook with the vibrations of sheer astonishment, still attempting to comprehend the sight of her gracefully seated before you.

"I've been... well. You know, just wandering the world, experiencing new things. Nothing out of the ordinary I suppose," she responded, and you couldn't ignore the subtle reduction in her once thick accent. It wasn't a dramatic change, probably not noticeable to human ears, but your keen senses detected it. How could you ever forget the voice that once made your own heartbeat falter?

“Your voice…”

She raised an eyebrow. “What about my voice?”

“You sound…different. Your accent…it isn’t as thick as it used to be.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I just…it just caught me off guard is all.”

"Hmmm," she hummed curiously. "But your voice hasn't changed. You still got that annoying whiny voice," she teased with a smirk, and it was the most familiar you had felt with her so far. That confident grin paired with the sarcastic comment, your undead heart could almost swell at how it made your body react. It reminded you of just how much you truly missed her. You playfully flicked her on the shoulder, and it sparked laughter from both of you. Oh, how you missed her laugh. You missed the way her adorable face would scrunch up, and her perfectly aligned teeth would come into view. It made your stomach flutter, reminiscent of the days when you were human, and you couldn't help but get lost in that familiar feeling that you had almost forgotten.

“Well I’m glad not all of you has changed. You’re still a dumbass,” you reply half-jokingly, making you both laugh once more. Once the laughter subsides, you find yourself aching to know more about her and what she’s been up to.

“So…you’re back in New York, I see,” you comment.

“I could say the same about you, s’thandwa.”

“Yeah well…you know…what better place for a vampire than the city that never sleeps, right?”

Briefly, Shuri falls into silence but you can see it in her eyes, the way they glisten that she feels a moment of intimacy.

“You remember that?”

“Of course I remember that, Shuri. I remember a lot.”

Shuri graces you with a crooked smile, highlighting the glossy sheen that coats the irises of her dark eyes. For an instant, a comforting warmth embraces you, as if this is precisely where you were meant to be at this exact point in time.

“And what about you, y/n? How have you been?”

You stop, your body tensing as you contemplate the myriad of responses you could provide. In all honesty, the years without her have been a collision of tides, a shifting wavelength of emotions and experiences that have caused you to both love and resent Shuri. There are moments when you despise her, yet miss her with every fiber of your being. As she poses the question, a fleeting hint of anger threatens to surface, but you inhale the breath you don't need before proceeding to answer.

“I’ve been…everything, I guess? I’ve felt everything, learned everything, and now I’m just lonely. I’ve been so full and empty at the same time…I don’t know, Shuri. It’s just been—”

But Shuri interrupts with the gentle stroke of her thumb on your cheek. Her tender caress seems to fill the void that has haunted you for nearly two centuries. You can't help but feel a pathetic sense of vulnerability as her small touch impacts you, but you permit yourself to experience it fully. You embrace the warmth she imparts with that simple gesture because, in this world of loneliness, few things compare to the solitude of a vampire. You needed this.

“I know, angel. I know. Open up to me. I’m here.” Her voice drew you in like a siren's song like it did so many years ago, guiding you to the profound depths of your emotions as you shed the first tear you had in years. She gently wiped it away with the pad of her thumb before enveloping you in the warmth of her hold, and you surrendered to her care.

“I’m here, y/n. I’m here.”

April 20th, 2022, New York

It had been approximately two months since Shuri unveiled her true nature, two months since you both professed your love, and two months since you posed the unanswered question that you still desperately held in your heart. You were reluctant to press her on the matter, yet it gnawed at you that she hadn't responded. Of course there would be good reasons as to why she never answered you, but what could that reason be?

You were together, entwined in your bed sheets as the moon light shone through your window, passionately embracing her as she kissed you. The depth of your love for her and her reciprocal feelings made you wish for this moment to quite literally be everlasting. The sensation of having her in your arms was something you could never tire of, so you reveled in what she was offering at that very moment.

“You’ve been kissing me for a long time now,” you say with a smile, lying beneath her as her smile mirrors yours. She plants another kiss on your nose before resting her head on your chest, nestling her soft curls into your skin.

“I just love you,” she replies, and she chuckles under her breath at how your heart skips a beat.

“That’s not fair, Shuri.”

“What’s not fair?”

“You laughing at the way my heart reacts to you…I know you got your incredible senses or whatever but you need to quit making fun of me.”

With a quick and fluid vampiric motion, Shuri changes positions, now leaning against the headboard while you straddle her. It almost takes your breath away, even though you should be accustomed to her rapid movements by now.

“Shuriiii, fuck,” you say, trying to keep calm the dizziness.

“Shutup,” she comments, bringing your lips back to hers. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.”

And you can’t help but scoff a little. “Yeah maybe for now, until I turn old and wrinkly.”

“You humans and age. Being old does not equate to being ugly. Aging is a blessing.”

You let out a pained sigh at her statement, not satisfied with the way she tries to keep you human. “Well that would be easy for you to say. You’re gonna look young and hot forever.”

Shuri raises her eyebrow, one that shows you she has a smart remark to say.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Fuck you!,” you reply, playfully hitting Shuri’s shoulder. “You’re annoying.”

“I wasn’t so annoying when I let you ride me the other night, now was I?”

You felt your cheeks flame up in embarrassment.

“Shuri, oh Shuri! Right there, yes!,” she mocks before she subtly laughs at you. You pick up the pillow beside you and slam it against her.

“Asshole!”

Shuri could not help but laugh at you and as you attempted to hit her once again, her vampire reflexes caught you off guard, halting you before you got to her.

“Show off.”

“Only sometimes.”

Once more, her lips capture you as she draws you closer. This kiss is unhurried and seductive, syncing with the rhythm of your heart as you encircle your arms around her neck, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations she evokes within you.

“You look beautiful by the way…when you work for it.”

“Shuri—”

“Really though. I should make you ride me more often. You’re so sexy like that.”

Her words nearly elicited a moan from you, but you held back, keeping your lips connected to hers as she spoke. You were determined not to give her the full satisfaction.

“You’re a dick.”

“Watch your mouth.”

Slowly, her mouth trailed down to your throat, kissing tenderly against the scar that she left from the first and last time she drank from you.

“This is healing nicely.”

“Yeah…well,” you comment with an attitude you swore was subtle but Shuri knew you better.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong with what?”

“You, y/n. Are you ok? Did I upset you?”

You said nothing.

“I know you have something to say, princess. Spill it.”

You could feel the nerves kindling within you, unable to escape the realization of how apparent it must be to Shuri that something was tugging at your heart.

“How come you don’t drink my blood anymore when we have sex?” Not exactly what you wanted to ask, but it was a question that was burning at you nonetheless. Shuri sighed, peeling her eyes off of you for a moment before proceeding. “Did I do something wrong? Do I taste weird or something??”

“Don’t do that, y/n. It’s not on you. And trust me…you are the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“Then what is it, Shuri?? I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t get it. How could you?”

“Baby…please.”

Shuri took a momentary pause, a brief silence hanging in the air, as if collecting her thoughts or contemplating her next words.

“I do not want to lose control again. I almost…I almost didn’t stop the first time. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“But you did stop, Shuri. You did. You need to cut yourself some slack. You did so good and it felt so good for me and I know it felt good for you too. I want you to drink from me again when we fuck.” You couldn't avoid appearing somewhat needy, maybe even a tad bit whiny, but you were unbothered by that. The desire to experience that closeness with her again was paramount, and you were confident she shared the same longing.

“But what if I—”

“Ssshh, Shuri. You won’t hurt me. I just want us to be able to experience each other to the fullest. You’re a vampire and I love that about you. I want you to know that I’m ok and that I want you to drink from me, especially when we have sex.”

Your words made Shuri ache, her pussy clenched at the way you craved her the way she craved you. “Ok but…if I hurt you—”

“Ah ah! You won’t, baby. I trust you.”

Once again, her gentle lips found yours as she moaned into you right before she abruptly detached from you.

“Ok, now what is it you really want to say to me?,” she questions, her deep understanding of you almost angers you, especially when you wish to simply just run away from certain situations.

“What?”

“Do not play stupid with me, s’thandwa. You cannot run away from me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Shuri…please.”

“Uh uh. Speak.”

You sat there on her lap, admiring her beautiful features, the stern yet soft look she gave you now made your stomach churn, wanting to run away from your burning desire but the more you choked it down, the more it became harder to breathe.

“I…why did you never answer me when I asked you to turn me?”

The softness in her face diminished to something harsher, her features melting into seriousness and it frightened you a bit.

“It’s not what you want, y/n.”

You sneer at this, annoyed at how easily she makes that claim for you. “If it wasn’t what I wanted, I wouldn’t have asked you. Now would I?”

Shuri shakes her head at you, a smirk appearing on her face before speaking. “This mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day.”

“Please Shuri, can you be serious for one second. I’m not joking.”

“I know you aren’t.”

“Then please just…stop messing with me.”

“I’m not messing with you.”

“Shur—”

Your words were halted by Shuri's finger pressing gently against your lips. Her eyes scanned your entire face before settling back on your plump lips, swollen from your fervent yearning for her.

“Just please…shut up for a second.”

As the all-too-familiar sensation of her lips meeting yours washes over you, you whimper into her, yearning for her and everything she embodies as you welcome her intense kisses.

“Please.” It was all you could say, and you weren’t even sure what it was you were asking for at the moment. What you do know is that your body is aflame, your mouth ablaze as her tongue glides between the curves of your sweet lips.

“I want you forever,” you moaned into her mouth.

"Mhmmm," she responded, surrendering as you trailed your kisses along her angular jawline, deepening them the further you descended down her body. It didn't take much time before she took off her shirt, providing room for your mouth to explore the curves of her abdomen, and your sloppy tongue made Shuri’s pussy clench in anticipation. Slipping your hand beneath her shorts, you ran your fingers through her boxers, chuckling at how damp she already was. All this mess between her thighs as a result of her love for you, her desperate need for you. Your poor baby was absolutely soaking the whole time.

“You’re so wet, Shuri.”

“Fuck,” she moaned, bucking her hips forward for the friction she evidently craved.

“Let me eat your pussy, baby, yeah? I wanna taste that mess between your thighs.”

“Fuck. Yes, y/n. P-please.”

Hearing Shuri trip over her words as you pleasured her was a sound you would never get tired of. It made your body ache with a passion, to hear her voice diminish down to desperate pleas as you pressed your tongue against the swell of her clit, and it didn’t take long for your mouth to find her pussy. Once you ripped off her clothing and admired the shimmer that reflected off her needy cunt, you took your fingers and splayed her folds open and your mouth found her clit like a magnet, wrapping your lips around her sensitive bud before your tongue ran laps around her.

“Oh,” she faintly moaned, a habit she would do as she struggled to contain her moans but you always took it as a challenge, making sure you left her in nothing but trembling shambles as you pleased her. It was easy to see she was trying her best to hold in her moans, the way her throat let out choked whimpers every time you lapped up into her but the minute you spat on her pussy and inserted two fingers inside, you made it a challenge on her to contain the sounds of pleasure that reckoned to rip right through her.

“OH…y-yeah…yes, y/n, just like that. Oh fuck.”

Your lips lifted into a smile, proceeding to suck on her pounding clit as you felt her pussy walls clench around your fingers. She was so needy, so evidently desperate for you and you felt nothing but the same for her.

“You taste so sweet, baby,” you hummed into her. “Cum on my face. I want you to cum on my face.”

“M’kay, okay…fuck, baby.” Her high pitched whimpers made your pussy throb, the sound and smell of her squelching cunt made you fuck into her faster and harder, continuously tapping that spot inside her that you knew would make her lose it.

“Unh!”

You gaze up at her, convinced that the sight alone justifies your yearning for eternal life. The radiance of her sweaty dark skin, the rhythmic contraction of her abs as her pussy closes around you, but her face was the purest of all. Her mouth hung ajar, jaw slack, singing profanities of pleasure, her eyes grappling to connect with yours as she resists the urge to roll them back. In this moment, she is at her most vulnerable, her weakest, and observing her let her guard down is something you desire to witness for the rest of your days. And that was not even the best part; the best part was what was to come next, as you wrapped your lips around her, siphoning her swollen clit and plunging before her body released right onto your face as she came.

“Princess! Oh…UNH!”

And there it was: your favorite part. Observing the transformation in her face as her orgasm resonated through her. The shift in her irises to a deep red hue, her fangs extending to their fullest length, all while she fought to maintain control over her body amid the orgasm wracking through her was truly a sight you alone could cum from.

“UNH!”

“Yes, baby. Keep fucking my face. Give me all of your cum.”

“Oh…fuck.”

Her pussy is hard to let go of, something you latch onto even as she’s whining and shuddering in overstimulation. You lap her up like you're starving, slurping every drop of her warm juice before she grabs your hair and forces you off of her. You whine at this, wanting more but you knew she had reached her limit as you rested your head on her chest, waiting for her body to cease its trembling.

“You c-can’t do shit like that, y-y/n. I could hurt y-you,” she struggles to say and that sight makes you smirk with pride.

“Awww, poor baby. No way you can hurt me when you’re shaking like this. You must’ve cum hard as fuck,” you taunted in faux sympathy.

“Sh-shut up. You forget I could s-snap you,” she tries to snark back, but her struggle to come back down was not helping her tough image. You chuckle before kissing her pouting lips.

“Talk like that all you want, baby, but we both know you love when I put my mouth on you.”

You kiss once more before she decides to take matters into her own hands.

“It’s your turn,” she comments, suddenly pinning you down beneath her and your body is heated, writhing in anticipation before you are inconveniently disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing.

“Fuck,” Shuri spits.

“Shit. My mom is calling me.”

Shuri groans in frustration, rolling over beside you dramatically as you answer the phone.

“I know, babe, but she never calls me. Could be an emergency.”

"Fine," Shuri seethes, with an exaggerated eye roll, and you can't help but chuckle at her flair for drama. Shuri tunes into your conversation, vampire ears catching your mother's voice on the other end of the line, and you're well aware of it.

“You were listening, weren’t you?,” you question once you hang up.

“I was.”

“You’re so fucking nosey.”

Shuri just shrugs her shoulders. “Soooo, are you going to go see your parents like she asked?”

“I really don’t want to. I already know what they’re going to talk about and I don’t wanna hear it. But I guess I should go. I honestly haven’t spoken to them since Jon…”

You chose not to finish your sentence but Shuri had no problem doing it for you. “You mean since I ate your asshole of an ex??”

“Yeah…that.”

“You know, I have yet to meet your parents. I’ve known you for just over a year now, and you almost never speak about them.”

“And what is a year to you? Aren’t you like 500?”

“You think you are so funny.”

“You love my jokes,” you tease. “But really, there’s a good reason as to why you haven’t met them. Trust me, you do not wanna meet them.”

“I think it would be good for me to meet them.”

“Yeaaahhh, no. Not gonna happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, Shuri. I don’t get along with them. And besides they’re…old school. They would never accept you and me.”

Laughter escapes Shuri, finding you incredibly adorable as you worry about what her meeting them might do.

“Do you forget who I am, princess? If there is anyone who understands old school, it would be me. I would love to meet your parents. I understand you might not have the best relationship with them, but I think it would be good for us to go together. Just tell them you’re inviting a friend, there is no need to tell them that we are in a relationship if you do not want to. You do that on your own time. But I would love to meet them,”

You say nothing.

“Please?”

“You know what? Fuck it! Fine! You can meet them but don’t be surprised when things go left. I’m warning you, Shuri. They’re weird.”

“I’m with you, aren’t I? I can handle weird.”

“Fuck you!,” you say, playfully hitting her once more with the pillow and she lets you this time.

“Wait…how am I supposed to tell them that we gotta meet them at night?”

“Just tell them what I told you. Tell them I’m allergic to the sun.”

You take a moment to ponder the situation before agreeing. She nods quietly and then departs, leaving you with your thoughts, the absence of her presence leaving a lingering sense of contemplation in the air.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Sitting at the dining room table, where Shuri had left her food untouched, and your parents bombarded you with questions about your future, felt like your heart could plummet to the depths of your stomach. The atmosphere, filled with nothing but painful memories, was sheer torture. Although you were aware that having Shuri witness the deceitfulness of your parents would be difficult, you were never truly ready for the frustration that would ignite beneath your skin.

“You barely touched your food, Shuri. Is there a problem?,” your mother asked.

“I told you she wasn’t hungry mom, just leave her alone,” you groaned, making no effort to hide your irritation.

“That is no way to talk to your mother, y/n,” your father chimed in with his unwanted comments that always made your blood boil.

“Mhmmm.”

There came an awkward silence, with nothing but the sound of utensils scraping against plates with all eyes unmistakingly fixed on you, including Shuri’s.

“What happened to you?,” your mother asked, pointing to the scar on your neck and you could just sense the subtle smirk on Shuri’s face.

“It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Can ya’ll just say what you wanna say already?,” you slightly burst. “I know why you called me here and I think it would be the best for everyone here if we forget the fucking scar and just get on with it.”

Your parents looked at each other before looking at you, both with a stern look that truly did frighten you a little but you wouldn’t dare let that show.

“Your future, y/n. The passing of Jonathan has left you with no money for your future. He was the plan all along and now he is gone…what do you plan on doing now with yourself??,” your father asked, his demeaning voice and commanding presence reverberating through the room, making the patter of your heart quicken. Your discomfort was evidently apparent to Shuri, and this was made known with the way she discreetly rubbed your thigh beneath the table.

“Dad…please—”

“Listen to your father, y/n. We say this because we care for you.”

“Care for me?? Well that’s a first, isn’t it??,” you snarked beneath your breath, purposely loud enough for their ears to catch.

“You need to find a new partner soon. We think we have someone who is interested…”

The rest of what was said drifted from you, nothing but the sound of static overcame the nonsense that you just knew was pouring out of your parents mouths. You felt nauseous, like the wind had just been knocked out of you and you could pass out at any moment. You just wanted to be free, free from the expectations your parents have put on you since you were a child; free from them using you as a pawn to bring more wealth into their family. You wanted out.

“Y/n,” Shuri chimed in, trying her best to comfort you. “Breathe baby, breathe. I’m right here,” she said not with her mouth but with her mind.

“And who are you, may I ask?,” your father interrupted, his deep voice breaking the calm that was once Shuri’s voice and you were afraid of what his confrontation would escalate into.

“Dad, please don’t start,” you muttered with a feeling of knowing exactly where this was headed. You knew Shuri and you knew your father and neither of them made room for disrespect.

“Hey…it’s ok,” Shuri murmured to you as her gaze softened in reassurance. But the look in her eyes didn’t escape your father’s notice, rather deepening his suspicions. You could see the anger simmering behind his heavy glare, that look that always made you fearful of him as a child. His demeanor shifted, the tension thickening as he repeated his question.

"Who. Are. You??,” he demanded, each word laced with venom. You knew instantly that he’d figured it out. Your father was an observant man who never failed to hide his disdain for the gay community. His hatred ran deep, and it was precisely one reason why you had always feared introducing Shuri to him. When his cold gaze shifted to you, a wave of numbness washed through your entire body.

“You brought a dyke into my home, y/n?”

“Dad…please, not right now.”

“Oh, we are doing this right now.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, hanging thick in the air like a storm about to break. Every sound seemed sharper, every movement slower, as if the very walls held their breath.

“Sir, if I may speak—”

“And why are you here with my daughter? Who are you and what are you doing here??”

A change flickered across Shuri’s face, the look of someone ready to face a challenge and it was an expression you recognized all too well.

“Shuri…please,” you softly begged.

“He’s disrespecting you and I don’t like that.” But her eyes stayed locked on your father’s. The silent exchange between them spoke volumes, a tension mirrored in the cold expressions of both your parents. Panic rose to the brim of your throat as you shot to your feet and grabbed her wrist, desperately trying to pull her toward the door and away from this place. But she stood her ground, unmoving and frozen.

“I am her father. I’m the one who raised her. Who are you to come into my home and talk to me that way??”

“Your daughter does not want to marry whoever it is you think you have in mind. She is a grown woman and her own person. She does not want him. She will never love him. And she sure as hell will never marry him!”

“And why is that?? Because you came into the picture?? A good for nothing dyke? You are a perversion of humanity, a disgust to God’s eyes and you do not deserve to know my daughter! I will never allow this!”

Shuri’s anger flared, and you noticed the faint red glow in her eyes. Just as you moved to intervene, she did exactly what you feared; she lunged at your father, her anger uncontrollably lashing. In an instant, she was on him, sinking her teeth into his throat with a terrifying, blood-fueled rage.

“SHURI!!”

Your mother’s scream pierced the air as your father struggled, desperate and terrified, trying to shove Shuri off him. Panic gripped you as you shouted her name.

“SHURI! SHURI, STOP!”

It was the desperation and fear in your voice that pulled her back to you. Her fangs retracted, and her eyes slowly returned to their usual color as she turned to look at you. Your fathers blood stained her face, dripping down her jaw while your trembling father reached for the gun hidden in the drawer. He did not hesitate to point the barrel right at her and you felt as if your heart was going to burst out of your chest. In a second, a deafening BANG rang through the room before the bullet struck Shuri in the abdomen, but she didn’t even flinch. Blood flowed freely, yet the wound sealed itself almost instantly, faster than you could exhale. The complete and utter terror on your parents face as your father shot once more, only to have the same outcome, was enough to make you almost collapse and pass out.

“Stay away from me de-demon…,” your dad stuttered while your mother held onto him for dear life, and you had never felt so afraid for what was to come next.

“Y/n, I need you to leave the room…now,” Shuri said sternly in such a matter that you knew she meant it but you did not care.

“I’m not leaving, are you crazy??”

“Now! Before I actually hurt them!”

Her words smacked you in the face, and the look in her eyes told you she was leaving no room for disobedience. Reluctantly, you stepped away, but stayed close enough to overhear what was unfolding. What you caught were only snippets of Shuri’s voice and an unsettling silence from your parents. Curiosity gnawed at you, and you held your breath as you peeked around the corner. There was Shuri, speaking to both your parents as if she had them under a trance. Your parents stood frozen, their bodies unmoving, and a chill ran down your spine, goosebumps prickling to the surface of your skin. The sight made you shiver as you struggled to keep from collapsing. Why hadn’t she told you about this when you first questioned her about being a vampire? The realization dawned on you: mind control. And now you couldn’t help but wonder if she had ever used it on you.

“Fuck. You weren’t supposed to see that,” Shuri snarled, grabbing your wrist harshly as she pulled you both out the door, out of your parents' presence, and into a painfully quiet car ride.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What the fuck was that?,” you irritably asked.

“Do not start with me right now, y/n.”

“Don’t sta—? Excuse me?? Have you lost your fucking mind??”

Shuri flopped down onto the sofa assertively, sitting man spread as she leaned back, rubbing her face with an air of agitation and impatience. It seemed as though she was deliberately ignoring your words.

“Hello? Earth to Shuri?? What, am I talking to myself here??”

“Might as well be.”

“You are…so fucking fucked up. My dad? Really, Shuri??”

“He’s lucky that’s all I did.”

You felt a jolt of shock, your eyes widening as you were rendered speechless. The nonchalant tone in her words stirred frustration in your stomach, and you struggled to contain your rising temper when upset.

“So what? Someone doesn’t like you and what, you kill them? You’re fucking unwell!”

She didn’t answer, just scoffed like you weren’t even there.

“And when were you going to tell me about how you can control minds or whatever the fuck that was?? Don’t you think that’s important information about you I should know?!”

“So you did see that…?,” she whispered under her breath with a subtle chuckle, her head bowed in shame as she fought to connect her eyes to yours.

“Yes I fucking saw that. Like you really just fucking looked at my parents and made them forget all that shit right infront of my fucking eyes like it was nothing…like you really just did that and never thought to fucking tell me??”

“So what, y/n?? Did you want me to let them remember that I almost killed your father?? Would that have been the rational thing to do?!”

“I’m only saying it would have been nice to know! That’s information I deserve to know, is it not? I’m your fucking girlfriend, am I right?!”

“If I had told you, you would walk the rest of our relationship questioning if it was real, correct?”

You said nothing.

“Yeah, that is what I thought. I have my reasons as to why I do or do not tell you things. Do not question my decisions to do so…”

“Yeah whatever, Shuri. Let’s be all dismissive and inconsiderate. Let’s all just get angry and eat people like fucking psychopaths!,” you yelled in a sarcastic tone but your anger was anything but sarcasm.

“And you want to be just like me, right? Is that not what you want? To be a vampire for the rest of your days? Let me tell you something…that is what being a vampire is!”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t piss me off, y/n.”

Her words were delivered in an almost quiet and restrained manner, as if they were small and insignificant. But beneath the surface of calmness, you sensed a simmering anger that was on the brink of breaking through her skin; the intensity of her emotions was palpable despite the softness of her voice.

“Do you see what I have to go through everyday in my life?? THAT is what I’ll have to deal with and THAT is what I want to run away from. As long as I’m human, they are all I have! And I’m nothing but a tool for them! A means to bring in wealth to their pockets because they’re nothing but scum and I want out!”

“Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?” Her sudden change in tone sent a chill down your spine, its sharpness and intensity striking a nerve. “How it has been hell on earth for me??”

The hurt in her eyes and the pain in her voice gave you an immediate pang of regret and empathy.

“So what?? You want us to be together until I die? And you move on?” Your voice caught in your throat, choked by the effort of holding back tears. Each word felt like a struggle as emotions welled up inside you, threatening to spill over.

“Yes. Because that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

You were consumed by a mix of hurt and anger, emotions swirling within you like a turbulent storm. The room around you fell into an oppressive silence, a quiet that was deafening, emphasizing the profound impact of the emotional turmoil you fought so hard to keep at bay.

“When your dad said those things to me, called me those names, it stirred up old memories I thought I'd forgotten and I simply lost it. The way society used to treat people like you and me, it was so difficult to live even as a vampire. I used to be called every name in the book, treated like scum because where does a black lesbian woman fit into society in the 1800’s? How about in the 20’s? Or the 50’s? There was none. You guys have no idea what it means to not be who you are meant to be.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“What?”

“You’re a vampire. You could live anywhere in the world and anytime you wanted. Why would you stay in America of all places?”

A soft chuckle escapes her, followed by a small tilt in her smile as she quietly rolls her eyes. “I did the stupidest thing a vampire could ever do.”

Confusion washed over you like a wave, leaving your expression visibly puzzled.

“I fell in love.”

“Oh.”

“I had been alone for so many years and that was the first time in my 100 years of being a vampire, had I felt alive and full…and human.”

“Who was she?”

“She was…perfect.”

A small smile appeared on your face before it quickly washed away. “Was she…the girl in my dream? The one you gave me…”

She nodded.

“She wanted you to turn her.”

“Yes.”

“Did you?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

“Why not? You loved her. You wanted to be with her forever, right? So why not just turn her??”

“I know what you’re doing, y/n. I’m not doing this right now.”

“But…please.”

The air between the two of you grew still and quiet, filled only with the weight of unspoken words. The silence stretched on, punctuated by the sound of distant waves rolling outside her home. It felt like there was a physical barrier between you, leaving an uncomfortable tension in its wake and so you raised your voice a little.

“Why don’t you just answer my question??”

“Do you not understand?? Being a vampire took everything I’ve ever loved away from me. That is what I’m trying to tell you. My mom, my friends, my family…the list is endless.”

You walked over to her and took your place beside her, leaning your head gently on her shoulder as the fabric of her shirt collected your tears before you kissed her shoulder. Despite the sorrow that filled both your hearts, your presence conveyed a quiet reassurance for Shuri as it always does. And that’s why she loves you; you shared an embrace in the face of emotional vulnerability.

“I’m so sorry life was unkind to you, Shuri, and I’m sorry being a vampire has been nothing but hell for you.”

You looked up at her with swollen, beady eyes; the aftermath of your tears evident in your pout.

“But the difference between you and me, Shuri, is that vampirism took from you because you actually had something to lose. You had a home, a family, friends, status…I don’t have anything. Nothing. You’re all I have…and I don’t want to lose you too.”

Shuri gazed down at you with a mixture of hurt and love in her eyes, a complex blend of emotions that spoke volumes. As she leaned forward, her lips brushed gently against your forehead in a tender gesture and you exhaled in relief before she abruptly stood up.

“I’m going to go take a walk.”

“But the sun will be up in a couple hours,” you respond with genuine concern.

“I’ll be back. I just need fresh air.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

A few hours passed by and you grew concerned as you waited anxiously. Finally, you hear sounds of movement emanating from the kitchen, and a wave of relief washes over you as Shuri returns.

“Finally, I was beginning to worry.” You approach the kitchen but she doesn’t respond. “Shuri?”

But it wasn't Shuri. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest with fear as you entered the kitchen to find a total stranger making herself comfortable in Shuri's kitchen. The stranger was strikingly beautiful, with a deep and flawless complexion. Her hair was intricately braided in goddess braids, a wave of intertwined hair and curls that fell down to her hips, and her lips had the rich fullness of a summer rose in full bloom. All her features harmonized to form one of the most beautiful faces you had ever seen. What intrigued you the most, however, was the uncanny familiarity of her face, despite being certain you had never met her before.

“Who…who are you?,” you stammered, your shaky voice hard to contain but the woman did not answer you verbally; instead she returned your answer with a soft smile that should have been comforting but the glassy conceit in her eyes sent shivers through your entire body.

“Who are you??,” you asked once more, raising your voice a bit but still, she said nothing.

“I’m going to call—”

“Who?? Shuri??,” she cuts you off, a villainous smirk graces her face, a twisted expression that holds genuine amusement and you could feel your heart quicken beneath your ribcage.

“How do you know Shuri?”

“Oh me and her go way back,” she says so ‘matter-of-factly’.

“Wait, are you a—”

Once more, she interrupts you, appearing in front of you in a mere millisecond with a gust of air that brushes against your body. You gulp slightly as she stares you down, her eyes tinged with judgment. Fear envelops you like a suffocating cloak, yet you remain still, unwilling to challenge the woman who seemed delighted in the fear she instilled upon you.

You hear the door open behind you, and a slight sense of relief washes over you. The woman behind you breaks into a full, sinister smile.

"At last," she whispers, taking a seat on the island in Shuri's kitchen. When Shuri entered the premises, it was the most frightened and shocked you had ever seen her, her eyes seeped in fear and confusion at the image before her. But it isn’t too long before that fear is stripped away with anger, her fists balled up in frustration as both her and the unknown woman stared each other down.

"Shuri... Who is she?," you ask, breaking the stomach-churning silence.

“Please answer her, she’s already asked me twice and it's getting annoying,” the woman snarked.

“Adanna…you…you’re alive??”

“Oh, I very much died, but you know how the rest goes, I suppose,” she replies with a smirk.

“Who is she, Shuri??” Your voice takes on an edge, the words clipped and pointed. There's a noticeable tension in your words, as if each syllable is strained through gritted teeth.

“Ugh, answer your pest-of-a girl!”

Shuri's demeanor shifts noticeably as a veil of shame descends over her, her shoulders lower with a weight of embarrassment. For a moment, she does what she usually does in times like this, avoiding direct eye contact before she speaks.

“Remember that dream I gave you? The girl I showed you…? Well…that’s her.”

You remember in an instant. Recollections flood back, including Shuri's words about her passing from old age. The anger you feel is overwhelming and beyond words.

“The girl from your dream??”

Shuri nods, not even looking at you, her eyes still on the other woman.

“You…Shuri look at me!”

And she does. Without question.

“You told me she died of old age. You lied to me??”

The woman bursts into a cynical laughter. “Really Shuri? I ‘died’?? Well y/n, tell me more. What else did Shuri say about me? I’d love to hear this,” she chuckles but her admiration was sincere. You glanced at Shuri, almost seeking permission to proceed, but the notion of needing her approval quickly faded as you uncomfortably settled into the situation you were in. You were eager to uncover more about Adanna. Things that Shuri had never disclosed to you.

“That’s all she said about you. But…she showed me you…in a dream. You were human. You wanted Shuri to turn you. She drank your blood.” The details from the vivid dream began to replay and flood back into your memory. Adanna’s expression softened, resembling the poor, desperate girl that Shuri held in your dream.

"What happened to you?" Shuri interjects, genuine concern etched across her face as she observes her from a distance. Adanna's attention swiftly shifts from you to Shuri, her whole body radiating hurt and rage before she speaks.

“How dare you…” The words were spat in such a way that made your muscles tense. “You happened, Shuri! You came into my life and now what?? You are going to do the same thing to her!”

“No…I will not.”

“It’s too late, Shuri. You’ve already thought of it. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen…” She smiles devilishly, casting a quick glance in your direction before striding towards Shuri, the sound of her heels echoing loudly in your ears. “You’re going to fall desperately in love with her, if you haven’t already, you’re going to live a short life with her and then she will grow old and die. And that’s if she’s one of the lucky ones, you know how fragile they are. As long as she’s human, death will always be simple for her.”

She moves swiftly behind you, using her speed and strength to press your body against hers, as she gently wraps her hand around your throat, not to choke you, but to evoke fear in both you and Shuri at what she was capable of.

“Don’t even think about it or I’ll hurt her.”

“Please Adanna, leave her out of this.” Worry clouded Shuri’s eyes and it broke you.

“I can tell you really love her. So why won’t you turn her?? Why keep her this fragile and pathetic human being??” Her grip on your throat slightly tightens and you thickly swallow beneath her.

“You know why.”

“Oh I know full well…but does she??” She lets go of your throat, before taking a finger and caresses the thick artery that runs along the side of your neck, Your heart is pulsing in absolute terror and she chuckles at the way your body reacts to her.

“Don’t you dare hurt her.”

��Shut the hell up!”

You unwillingly tremble at her loud words.

“Oh baby, don’t look so scared,” she taunts. She skims your throat again, caressing the fang work from Shuri’s indulgence of you. “I see she’s had her fair share of you.”

You swallow, your throat bobbing beneath her touch.

“She’s really good in bed, isn’t she?”

Fear grips your eyes as you glance at her, and she giggles at your visible apprehension.

“It’s ok baby, you can admit it. I know all too well. She used to fuck me stupid too. But back in the day, people were not as…accepting of our lifestyle. I mean, really? What could be worse than being a gay, black woman in the 1920’s?? But that only made it so much more fun, right Shuri?? We had a blast didn’t we, babe? On the bar after work hours, cars in the back lane, under my dress at speakeasy tables?? Hotel rooms, back rooms…the fear of being caught… what a thrill.”

“That’s enough!”

She smiles and strides confidently toward Shuri, standing slightly over her in tall heels. With a sudden gesture, she lightly grips Shuri's jaw, catching the both of you off guard.

“Or what? What are you gonna do, baby? Kill me? We both know you never could.” She lets go of her jaw and trails her finger down her chest, admiring Shuri’s beauty and the sight makes your stomach twist; a surge of jealousy and protectiveness washes over you but what could your fragile body possibly do in a situation like this?

“You’ve gotten even sexier over the years, mm mm mm. The way I just wanna…this same chiseled jaw, used to drive me crazy.”

“Adanna…leave.”

“I guess I should, the sun will be rising soon. Or…I could just…stay here.”

“No.”

“Loosen up a bit, I’m joking.” She strides confidently toward you, locking eyes and observing the rise and fall of your chest with each labored breath.

“It was nice meeting you, y/n.”

She departed swiftly, her presence lingering like a chilling echo in the room long after she was gone.

The silence that engulfed the space between you and Shuri after Adanna's departure was suffocatingly dense. It echoed with the weight of unanswered questions and unresolved emotions, leaving a void that seemed to amplify with each and every heartbeat and breath that escaped you.

You allowed the silence to linger before stepping up to slap Shuri—a stinging blow that likely hurt you more than it did her, though you refused to show it. Shuri adjusted her jaw slightly from the impact, further fueling your building anger.

“You got something to say?!”

Shuri scoffs and starts to walk away, leaving you feeling as if your skin is melting.

“Hey…hey! I’m talking to you!”

She paces and smashes her table as if it were made of sand. You flinch, almost afraid of her intensity, but you're determined not to show your fear.

“So you turned that bitch but you won’t turn me??”

Finally her eyes meet yours. “Have you lost your damn mind, y/n?”

“Nah, I could ask you the same thing, Shuri! Because what was that?? All of that, what was it?? You gonna talk to me about how your 100 year old ex-girlfriend that apparently died from old age, was just in front of me? As a vampire…Shuri you LIED to me!”

“I did and I do not regret my decision to do so.”

The feeling of hurt and betrayal began to manifest in your body in physical ways, a sharp pain jabbing into your chest as if your heart was physically pierced. Your throat tightened up as a rush of heat and cold scattered through the thinning veins beneath your skin. Your body physically ached for her truth.

“Shuri, what is this?? What are we?? Do you like being in control? Powerful?? Is that it?? You like that your mind games are easier to play on my human brain? I don’t understand!”

“Don’t even start with me right now, y/n. I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mo—oh…ok. Ok then. I see how it is. Here you go with this bullshit. Explaining to me at your convenience! Leaving me in the dark and for what?! You know what?? I’m not doing this right now. I’m going home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, that’s what the fuck I said.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n.”

“You gonna stop me??”

“You are not going out there! She could be out there doing god knows what!”

“I’m not scared of her.”

“Well you should be!”

“And why is that, Shuri?? Because she’s a vampire?? Because she kills people?? Last time I checked, so do you. And I’m not afraid of you. Fuck you!”

“You are…fuck…you are pissing me off.”

“Boo hoo.” You roll your eyes, a gesture that pushes Shuri dangerously close to the edge. The last thing she wants is to lose her temper like she did in front of your parents.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Put your shit down, you are not leaving here,” she comments as you start packing your things but you ignore her.

“Y/n…y/n!”

“Fuck off!”

As you're about to leave and reach for the door, she rushes behind you and slams it shut with a bang, blocking your escape.

“Shuri…move.”

“You won’t make me.”

You turn around to face her, finding yourself trapped between the door she has forcefully shut and her imposing figure. Despite her menacing presence, her face betrays a hint of worry, making it challenging for you to maintain your anger.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

You arched your eyebrow, letting out a slight chuckle while Shuri stood puzzled. What could possibly be so amusing to you at this moment?

“If you need company, I’m sure Adanna is wandering around somewhere and since you’ve fucked her brains out too, I’m sure she’s all too willing to come back and give you a mind-blowing night,” you snapped, struggling to conceal your jealousy, though by now, Shuri can easily read you like an open book.

“Now you are just being childish.”

“No. I’m leaving because you’re pissing me off.”

Your second attempt to leave was as successful as the first time, with your back against the door and Shuri's hand gently snaking your throat, careful not to cut off your oxygen intake. In that silent moment, your eyes locked, conveying a power dynamic that both thrilled and frustrated you. As long as you were human, this imbalance persisted; a blend of love and resentment. Even now, Shuri's proximity was irresistible, her scent enveloping you and despite the anger you felt, the strength she had over you went beyond mere physical, vampiric strength.

“Why must you be so difficult?”

Both of you were engulfed in anger towards each other, driven by a mutual fear of losing one another. Your actions appeared selfish and impulsive, but deep down, you both dreaded the thought of being alone, knowing that each other was all you had.

“I’m not being difficult, Shuri. My request is simple. I’m only asking you to turn me.”

“And don’t you think I would have a long time ago if it was the right thing for you?” Her voice was gentle and soothing, a juxtaposition of the rage she felt.

“This is the right thing for me. You are the right thing for me.”

Your eyes softened, and hers mirrored yours. Your breathing picked up immensely and Shuri did not even try to hide her gaze plastered on the way your breasts rose with each sharp breath you took in. Her glare evolved from soft and gentle to intense and purposeful, reflecting the shift from a pure emotional connection to a more primal and physical desire. She was lustful and so were you.

The tension in the air thickened quickly, like a weight settling over the both of you. Unspoken emotions and anticipation hung heavily between you, making every moment feel charged and intense. Gazes lingered longer than they meant to, words became unspoken, and the way Shuri’s palm stayed on your throat made you gulp in desire, wanting her to push your limits like she always does.

“Drink from me.” Your words were tinged with an unmistakable craving for her and you could not help but be slightly embarrassed; how pathetic you were to beg after trying so hard to stay mad at her. “It’s been too long, baby, I need it.”

Her palm sits fairly firm against your windpipe and you inhale sharply as you feel the warmth between your legs dampen.

“I can smell you, princess.”

“See, this is what I mean. This power imbalance between us…it drives me nuts. Nothing is fair between us if you keep this from me.”

Shuri hoists you closer to her by your throat, bringing your lips in for the ghost of a kiss, an exchange of warmth before she fully presses her lips against yours and she moans into your mouth, a sound that nestled so deeply between your thick thighs.

You jump into her arms before she carries you to the bedroom, not once detaching her lips from yours. As she steps foot into the bedroom, she places you roughly on her vanity, clearing space for your plush ass to hit the surface. Shuri tears your clothing aggressively, greedy to see your beautiful body as she leaves you in nothing but your undergarments. You gasp as goosebumps rise to the surface of your skin due to the mix of sudden cold air and her warm touch. It didn’t take long before her hands found your bra and ripped that off too, getting caught in the beauty of your breasts and the way they jiggled with your pretty gasps. For a moment, your eyes connected before her gaze trailed down to the wet patch seeping through your panties and Shuri can’t help but release a condescending laughter.

“I thought you said I pissed you off. But look at you, s’thandwa. You’re so wet. Do you hate me or want me?”

"Both," you exclaimed with a desperate intensity, feeling the anger towards her fueling the fire beneath your skin, expressing just how much you craved her touch.

"Mhmm," she murmured as her hand trailed down to the damp spot between your thighs that grew by the second, creating slow circles with the pad of her thumb and you cried with ache. Shuri adored your soft pleas of desire above all else. While she relished your moaning turning into screams of overwhelming pleasure, it was your gentle whining and whimpering that stirred her vampiric instincts to the brink, challenging her ability to suppress her true nature. You were aware of this, and you reveled in it. You enjoyed pushing her to her limits, knowing she would never physically hurt you.

With care, she slid the thin panties to the side, watching the way your sticky arousal clung to the fabric. She carefully slid a finger down your slit, just enough to be overwhelming yet not quite satisfying enough.

“Oh,” you breathed out as she caressed your beating bud, her lips attacking your throat once again as your fingers cling to the coils on her head.

“I don’t care about a power imbalance…until it comes to this,” she whispered to you, bringing her hands down to your thighs, kneading the flesh before she spread them open a bit more. Her mouth on your throat went from kissing the skin to sucking it, a gesture that was sure to leave bruised marks and your heart quickened at the anticipation of feeling her sink into you.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Your heart is pounding…why?”

“Please…Shuri…”

“Tell me.”

“Drink my blood. Please, baby, please.”

A crooked smile appeared before she looked for any hint of hesitation in your eyes but there was none to be found. You wanted this, needed it, just as much as she did and that made her turn insatiable, almost afraid that her crave for you would overcome rational thought.

She grabbed your jaw, forcing your gaze up on hers. “You want me to drink from you, y/n?”

You nodded with such urgency that it felt embarrassing. She smirked, lowering her mouth for a fleeting kiss just above the side of your throat. Your heart raced, nearly bursting out of your chest. Yet when she offered only a light kiss without delving deeper, you felt annoyed and disappointed, still craving the satisfaction that had consumed you.

“Please, Sh—,” but you were cut off with a slender finger to your lips, giving you one last peck on your pouted mouth before she gets down on her knees in front of you, placing wet, devoted kisses from your stomach down to the area just above your pussy. Shuri loved dragging you to your release, watching your body flare in desperation made her wet each and every time.

“You know what I love about your human skin?”

"Hmm?" Your thoughts were clouded, making it difficult to speak, and Shuri chuckled softly underneath you.

“I love that I can mark you up. Claim you as mine. As a vampire, you would just heal. Is that what you want?”

You didn’t reply, but simply gazed down at her beautiful curls settled between your thick thighs but Shuri was not pleased, and the way she lightly slapped your pussy over the fabric of your panties proved that.

“Oh,” you stuttered softly to her delicious touch.

“I asked you princess, is that what you want?”

“N-no.”

“Hmmm…that’s what I thought.”

Shuri planted several affectionate kisses on your clit, the final tender gesture before you received what you had been yearning for; the exquisite and familiar sting of Shuri’s fangs piercing your skin only this time, her head was buried between your left thigh, marking her territory with her fangs as she drank the crimson lifesource. The sensation was exhilarating, a familiar mixture of pleasure and pain, the boundaries between the sensations melding into a blurred ecstasy.

“Shuri,” you moaned out, overwhelming her sanity. She quickly detached from you, sending her love in equal measure to your opposite inner thigh, pushing your panties to the side to make room for her fingers to settle beautifully inside you.

“Hold this here,” she demanded, wanting your own fingers to hook the fabric to the side so she could focus on tending to your mind and body. And you complied, holding your panties in place before you felt her sink two fingers into you.

“Unh,” you softly whimpered, spreading your legs to the best of your ability to give your girlfriend more room to continue her work, the duality of her drawing blood from your inner thigh as she pumped into your thumping pussy walls had your heels digging into her back, your own back drawn into a soft arch as you worked her face.

“There’s my girl.”

Her persistent fingers continued their relentless nudging against your sensitive spot. She was cautious not to draw too much blood from you. As you neared climax, she withdrew, returning to meet your face now adorned with a pout, eyes brimming with an eternal longing for her to bring you to completion.

"I was almost there," you complained, your eyebrows softening along with Shuri's, before she swiftly positioned your body to press against hers, your back against her front as your reflections stared back through the vanity mirror. Her lips were stained in a deep red hue and the irises of her eyes matched the tone. It was an image that should have frightened you but it was your favorite look on her, Shuri in her true nature; predator and prey in its most sensual form.

“I know you were, but you know the rules. You cum when I let you cum, understood?”

You nod quickly.

“Good girl.”

Shuri grabs your breasts, kneading them as she kisses the crevice between your shoulder and your throat.

“Shuri…baby…m-more. I need more.”

And with your words, one of her hands travels upwards towards your throat as the other roams south, pushing her fingers beneath your now soaked panties as she skimmed your delicate clit, circling the bud before she dips her fingers into you with the goal to finish what she started.

“You know what else I love about your human body?”

“Hm? Wh-what’s that?”

“Your human breath and how easy it is to just…cut it off.” Her hand clasped your throat firmly, not hard enough to hurt you, but hard enough to make you feel lightheaded. “Can’t do this if you don’t breathe. And I know how much me choking you gets you wet, nkosazana, do you really want that gone?”

You squirmed briefly while she maintained her grip. You looked so beautiful in your helpless state and not once did her fingers relent their persistent and calculated strokes inside you, paying close attention to the way your pussy walls responded to her presence. She had one hand beneath your panties, the other around your neck, pulling constricted whimpers from you as you struggled for air. Your little sounds got to her, and she let you go.

“Aww, you’re ok. You’re gonna let me do it again, right?”

“Yes please, choke me again, Shuri. Please. I’m so close.”

And she does, because why would she deny her love? She clasps your throat once more, your hips canting along with her thrusts, running towards your sweet, sweet release.

“That’s it, baby. Let all your frustrations out. Good girl, let it all out.”

“Sh-Shuri…,” you choked out, pouting at the way you felt your walls tighten in pleasure around your girlfriend’s determined fingers. Shuri releases you, listening to your intake of air before she gently caresses the side of your throat. Her eyes locked with your reflection in the mirror, bracing you for what's to come. She took hold of your throat again, tilting your jaw to the side to expose the same spot she had fed from the first time. The familiar mix of slight pain and intoxicating pleasure surged through you, heightening the sensation of your impending orgasm and hearing Shuri’s soft moans of satisfaction as she drank from you only deepened your bliss. Not once did her fingers halt, her palm grazing your sensitive clit drew you nearer to the end until you let out a high pitched moan that made Shuri’s pussy clench in ache.

“Unh…Shuri, Shuri…yes! Fuck!”

She took one final taste before reluctantly pulling away, but not without struggle. Your blood was like fuel to her, and once she got a taste, it was a challenge to let go and although it should frighten you, it didn’t. Turning to face her, you met her gaze with your drowsy eyes, falling into the depths of her bloodshot irises. She looked unsettlingly beautiful, and in that moment, you realized how much you missed this, how deeply you needed it. The smirk on her blood-stained lips spoke volumes of how much she felt the same.

“You always do so good for me, princess,” she spoke with softness, slipping her cum-coated fingers between your lips as you sucked the remnants of your release off of her. You let go with a wet pop, batting your eyelashes at her before you spoke.

“I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you more.”

As soon as you both finish cleaning and tending to one another, you slip back into a deep sleep, resuming the dream where you left off a few months ago, with the woman in your arms, the one you now know to be named Adanna.

➳ the dream:

The dream setting is the same as before, with Shuri allowing you to experience everything from her perspective, as if you were living it yourself. Once again, Adanna is in your arms, pleading for you to turn her.

“I want you to do it, Shuri. Turn me. Please. I want this.” Her dark brown eyes shimmered with a perfect blend of desperation and love. You were terrified, afraid of crossing your boundaries once more, but the thought of not being with her forever frightened 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 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. As you continue to drink from her, your struggle to detach your lips from her throat grows more and more and Adanna becomes frightened, soon coming to realize that she had underestimated your thirst.

“Shuri,” she softly pleads, her mind growing fuzzy as she feels life slowly drift from her. “Shuri, please…you’re hurting me.”

You tried to fight it, but you were lost, intoxicated by the blood as you sank your teeth deeper into the one you loved. Drinking from her was unlike anything else; hunger, love, and lust blurred together and you could not decipher which was which. Her blood brought you the closest you'd ever felt to heaven, your senses heightened and explosive. Yet, in that overwhelming euphoria, you couldn't feel or hear her struggling beneath you, death latching closer and closer to her.

“Shuri…Shuri…it’s too much!”

You thought you could do it, bring her to the brink of death and then feed her your blood to restore her but you could not stop.

“I love you…need you so bad,” you mumbled against her, feeling her lifesource flow through your dead body made you feel more alive than you ever felt.

"SHURI!" she screamed one final time before you felt an enormous impact that sent you flying, landing on your feet as if you were a superhero. He came out of nowhere, a tall man who stood before both you and a dying Adanna. In that moment, you realized the gravity of your actions. You had crossed a line you never intended to, and now the consequences were clear: Adanna, helpless and nearly lifeless, was pleading for the man to save her and take her away from you. It broke your heart to see her so terrified of you.

“A-Adanna??”

"St-stay aw-ay from... me," she said with weakness, gasping as death knocked at her front door. You wanted to help her, to save her, but as you moved towards her, the mysterious man dashed in front of you with a speed that startled even you, revealing his vampire nature. It was evident he had been around for a long time, the first vampire you'd encountered since your maker left you many years ago.

“Let me help her!” You yelled in terror, attempting to fight the much stronger man.

“No,” the man gently stated, as if you were not weeping in fear as the love of your life lay dying as a result of your inability to control yourself. “You will kill her.”

“No…I can do this! Let me go! Let me help her!”

“You have yet to master the art of control. You cannot do this or you will kill her.”

“And she will most certainly die if you do not get your hands off me and let me help her!” You were in a state of panic, more frightened than you ever thought possible, and your heightened vampire senses only intensified your fear and anger.

“Stay a-way…don’t touch m-me…”

“Do you hear that? She does not want you to help her…perhaps it would be better if you let me handle this. Let me take care of her. Let me rid you of the burden of having to turn her yourself and you can be free.”

At that moment, his words made sense. You felt like a burden, and the scent of Adanna’s blood still lingered within you, making you afraid of what you were capable of.

"Let me handle this," he assured once more. It took you a moment, but Adanna was dying, losing blood by the second. With every drop that hit the ground, it became harder for you to resist the urge to go and drink it, to savor her last moments as she slipped away.

"Leave." It was a command, not a suggestion. You took in the sight of her one last time before you ran, seizing this final chance before you lost all control, leaving Adanna and the man behind. That was the last moment you saw her, the last time you held her weak body as you struggled with your instincts. In that moment, you lost all hope. You were doomed, cursed to a life of loneliness. Everything you touched, you destroyed. Everyone you loved died by your hands and you wanted no part of it. You ran and never looked back, fleeing into endless darkness until you finally woke up.

You woke up to darkness, realizing how much you had adapted to Shuri's lifestyle as you drifted off at sunrise. You sensed her presence beside you on the bed, your back turned to her. Taking a moment to process the dream she had shared with you, a window into her past, you turned around. There she was, sitting with her elbows resting on her propped-up knees, her head bowed in shame, struggling to meet your gaze, afraid you would never look at her the same way again. For a moment, you both sat in silence, the sound of your soft breath and the absence of hers filling the room as you pondered what had just witnessed.

“I thought I put that day behind me, but revealing it to you stirred up old memories I wish I had forgotten,” her trembling voice broke the silence. “It’s an indescribable feeling, the all encompassing, wretched, mind-shattering feeling of drinking from someone you love, especially if you are doing it in hopes of turning them.”

The silence settled like a weight in the room, each passing second stretching longer than the last.

“Feeling love as a vampire is much much much harder than any human love, I can assure you. Once you are turned, everything becomes magnified, including human feelings. Love as a human is already too much in itself, as a vampire it’s the most burdening feeling when you constantly crave their blood as well, not wanting to hurt them but wanting a taste…it’s overpowering.”

You sit up in front of her, taking her hands in yours for a gentle kiss.

“The guilt I felt was mind blowing, doing to her the exact same thing my maker did to me. I left her, and left her to him. I had no idea who he was or what his intentions were. I was not thinking clearly at that moment and to be fair, with all her blood rushing through me, there was no way I could think properly. I was out of my mind, high on her blood and thirsty for more.

“At first, I was not sure if she was turned or if she died, and I did not want to find out as both answers frightened me. But once I heard of all the killings that were happening in the city, I figured they were coming from her and I wanted so badly to intervene and help her, be a mentor but what kind of mentor would I be?? I could barely control myself, never mind a new vampire who was abandoned by who she thought was the love of her life. I did not intervene out of fear, and because of that, she is the monster she is now.”

“No…Shuri, you can’t put that on yourself.” And you meant it. How could she place such a burden on herself? “I understand that you feel a sense of obligation to fix her, or be there for her…whatever it is, but Shuri…baby look at me…who she is, is not because of you.”

A small grin graced her face, appreciative of your efforts but did not believe it.

“At the end of the day, Adanna is her own being. Everything she did was a choice she made on her own. And she can blame you or the world or whoever she wants but we are all responsible for our own actions. Life isn’t fair to anybody, but we have to deal with the cards we are dealt with, Shuri. You were abandoned too, baby…remember that.”

She smiled gently, resting her cheek against your cupped hand.

“I remember once she had this crazy idea on turning all the black people in the city of New York into vampires so we could collectively take over colonial powers. It was tempting.”

She chuckled and so did you.

“So…why New York?”

You take the pad of your thumb and gently caress the final tears that escape her.

“You could go anywhere in the world…why some random house just outside New York? You could’ve literally gone anywhere and you chose to be here…”

“I suppose when you hear of a city that never sleeps, that is alive during the night…well which vampire wouldn’t want to go there??”

“Fair point.” You feel a fierce urge to ask her the question, fearful that it might ignite jealousy inside you or resurrect old emotions within her.

“How did you meet her?”

Shuri rose her brow, unsure if this is really what you wanted to hear right now. “Are you sure you wanna hear about my past love life?”

“No, but I can’t help but be a little curious,” you respond with a gentle smile, pecking her plush lips with a kiss before she speaks.

“I went to a speakeasy one night, and she was there singing on the stage. She was so beautiful, singing with one of the most beautiful voices I have ever heard and I just could not let her go. That was my mistake, of course. She could have lived a long and fruitful life without me if I just stayed away.”

“Shuri…”

“I’m not a good person, y/n.”

“I don’t believe that. I believe your life was taken from you and you were learning to survive on your own. Everything was a first for you. Loving as a vampire was a first for you. Drinking your lover's blood was a first for you. Turning her, that was your first time. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. You made mistakes. Big mistakes? Yeah. You fucked up, Shuri. But name me one person who hasn’t.”

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Painting me like this pure person, I’m anything but. I’ve done some terrible things, y/n.”

“And we can talk about that later, but I see what you’re trying to do here. You’re trying to scare me away, make me change my mind and it’s not working. I know what I want. I wanna be with you. Forever”

“Uh uh. Not good enough. No way I’m turning you because you love me. What happens if it doesn’t work out for us down the road? And now you’re stuck as a vampire forever. What then?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“We don’t know that, y/n. And I’m not saying this because I doubt your love for me or vice versa, I’m saying this because I’ve been around long enough to see how the world works. How people change. How life and circumstances change people.”

“So then what do you want me to say, Shuri?”

“Give me a reason. A real reason as to why you want this and then I can make a decision from there.”

You pause, weighing your many reasons before you speak.

“Ok. How about this…I have nothing to live for. I have no money except my parents' money, and they cut me off. No siblings. No friends. No future.”

“And you want this to be your future?? To live with an everlasting urge to hunt and kill…”

“I’ll choose not to kill.”

“It is not that simple, y/n.”

“Maybe not. But the difference between me and you is you had nobody to teach you. No guidance. No mentor. But I’ll have you. You’ll teach me to be good, I know you will. I trust you, Shuri.”

“Bast…you’re driving me insane.”

“Come on, my love…what are you waiting for?? Don’t you want to be with me…forever?”

“Fuck. Of course I want that. More than anything in the world.”

“Then what’s stopping you??”

“It did not end well for me the last time.”

“It won’t be like that. You can stop.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Maybe not, but I trust you. If you can stop while you’re fucking me then you can stop while turning me.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Shuri, pleaassee. Bring me to my final breath, and then give it back to me. I’ll be strong and free…just like you. I won’t be this fragile, weak thing that you have to worry about all the time. I’ll be able to fend for myself and I won’t be a burden to you anymore.”

“You’re not a burden to me.”

“But I am. Even if you don’t see it. I slow you down, babe.”

Her gaze narrowed, brows furrowing slightly as they peered into the distance, lost in contemplation.

“Plus, I don’t want to grow old while you stay young. It’ll look weird on my part.”

You both laugh and she shakes her head in sympathetic disbelief.

“Soooo is that a yes?”

“Most definitely not a yes.”

“Is it a ‘maybe’?”

“Hmmm…maybe.”

“Well that’s not a ‘no’.”

“I guess it’s not.”

“So we’re getting somewhere??”

She refused to acknowledge it, to admit how you were pulling at the strings of her undead heart. She had never felt so desired, so wanted in her life, not even by Adanna, and it was driving her to madness. She longed for you in every way imaginable, wishing it didn't have to be this way, replacing your breath with one that hungered for blood above all else. Yet, Shuri was always selfish, never one to deny herself what she desired. So, for a fleeting moment, her heart and mind softened, indulging in the realm of possibilities.

“Yes princess…we are getting somewhere.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Several days had passed since the incident, spent in peaceful solitude with Shuri. One evening, you chose to rise a little earlier to catch the sunset. Despite having largely adapted to Shuri’s lifestyle, you remained human, with an innate need for sunlight and its comforting warmth.

You sat on the shore, watching the sunset painting the sky as the day gently faded away. Pastel hues glistened before your eyes, sparking a feeling of wonder and awe. It was a moment for contemplation, a brief respite from life's chaos where time appeared to stand still. As a vampire, you understood you would never have this experience again, and a part of you found solace in that. You were willing to relinquish these small, inherently human moments if it meant freedom from the limitations that came with being one.

Even after the sun fully set, you sat outside for another hour or so, enjoying your own company. You looked back at Shuri's house, finding her silhouette beaming through the window and knowing she was there drew comfort.

“I love you, y/n,” she said to you through her mind, and you smiled, impatient for the day you could telepathically say it back to her.

“I love you, Shuri,” speaking as if she was right next to you but you knew her vampire ears picked it up with ease.

“I love you.” Another voice entered your mind, a mocking one, and it left you utterly confused. It didn’t sound like Shuri’s voice, but who else could it be?

“Did you say something?,” you asked, hoping Shuri would hear you again.

“I did not,” she replied to your mind. “Why do you ask, s’thandwa?”

“Oh nothing…I just thought I heard something.”

“No baby, I said nothing,” she assured once again.

You continue to savor your moment with yourself when an unfamiliar rustling in the trees catches your attention. Startled, you glance around but see nothing. You looked at the window and Shuri wasn’t there anymore. The rustling sounds again.

"Shuri? Shuri, this isn't funny." You knew your girlfriend loved to play games and tease you whenever she had the chance, but now she was nowhere to be found. "Shuri??"

A gust of wind struck your back, accompanied by a dark presence looming over you, forcing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“You’re still as beautiful as ever.”

Your heart thudded erratically in your chest, a frantic drumroll that seemed to echo through your entire body. It pounded with such intensity that you could feel it in your throat. That all-too-familiar voice that swept through your mind, bringing back memories of darkness and unhappiness, left you in sheer terror. It was impossible. How could this be? But as soon as you doubted, the feeling vanished, replaced by the unmistakable sensation of rough, clammy hands skimming your shoulders, making your body shudder in fear.

“Turn around my love. Let me see your pretty face,” he whispered into your ear and you complied, coming face to face with him; the man you hated beyond the hatred you’ve ever felt for anyone.

Jonathan.

Only now his face seemed harsher and more sinister; his eyes glowed a vivid, unsettling red, like twin embers burning with insatiable hunger. Your first instinct was to run, but you knew better. There was no way a human could outrun a vampire. So, you stood frozen in your spot as he extended his fangs.

“You’re probably wondering where Shuri is, right? Why hasn’t she come to your rescue…?? She’s rather…occupied at the moment with her first love. Who gave me permission to kill you if Shuri even dares to come save you.”

You say nothing.

“But that’s the problem, y/n. I don’t want to kill you…I just want you.”

He reaches out to graze your face, and you dodge his touch; something you never would have dared to do when you were with him, fearing his reaction. But now, you are filled with anger with no outlet. How dare Shuri lie to you again? You felt manipulated and used, as if she had deceived you to win you over, treating you like a pawn in her own little vampire game.

Jonathan cocks his head at the action, shocked at how you so easily avoided his touch.

“I see your time with your little dyke has made you forget your manners.”

“Go to hell.”

He smirked so deviously, like the human Jonathan you used to pretend to love but even now, you could feel how becoming a vampire has heightened the terrible person he already was even before his transformation.

“I’m going to find Shuri,” but as you walked away, his vampire speed blocked you once again in a millisecond and your heartbeat quickened.

“Get out of my way,” you whisper in malice, your eyes buried into his scarlet ones as you pretend to not be afraid. But as soon as he gripped your arm with sheer vampire force, one that could have snapped your bone if he had gripped any harder, you yelled.

“Let go of me!”

“I swear to god, if he hurts you, I’ll rip him to fucking pieces!,” she spoke to your mind, and even though you could not directly hear her words, her fear for you was still utterly discernible. But that moment of ease washed away as soon as you and Jonathan both heard intense crashing and banging coming from inside the house; sounds that made you fear for Shuri’s immortal life.

“Shuri!!”

“Hold on baby, I’m coming for you.”

Shuri burst through the door with Adanna right behind her, the two of them locked in a vicious physical fight as they sped toward you with such velocity, it seemed as though they were floating rather than running. Both bore scars on their faces and bodies, healing rapidly, but you hardly noticed in the midst of their chaos. Before you could comprehend what was happening, Shuri lunged toward Jonathan with nothing but the intention to destroy him. With her years of experience, she could easily overpower him—but Adanna intercepted her, stepping between the two of them. Shuri tried to push past, but Adanna had grown stronger over the years. The entire scene was terrifying, three sets of eyes glowing and fangs bared.

Shuri is consumed by rage, too blinded by her fury to notice little ol’ you trembling in the corner. Her only focus is tearing Jonathan apart. The three vampires clash violently, with Shuri's power overwhelming Jonathan, who looks bewildered as he struggles to defend himself. Adanna, nearly as strong as Shuri, fights fiercely to protect him, their movements a blur of speed and raw strength.

You stood frozen in terror, your fear for Shuri's safety overwhelming you more than anything. Desperate, you screamed her name, and in an instant, the chaos ceased. All three pairs of eyes turned toward you, but only Shuri truly felt the depth of your fear. Her anger immediately drained from her, and her blood-red eyes faded back to their dark brown, her fangs retracting as she softened. She ran toward you, but as she drew closer, you instinctively backed away. Jonathan made a move to follow, but Adanna held him back, her curiosity piqued by what was about to unfold.

Shuri's heart broke at the subtle gesture of you backing away from her. You were just as terrified of her now as you had been when she first revealed her true nature, and she could sense it. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable, and in that moment, she realized how deeply the fear had taken root.

“Y/n? B-baby what’s wrong?”

“You lied to me,” you whispered to yourself, but of course her ears heard you perfectly. You looked so small and helpless, curling into yourself.

“What?? Baby, no. I didn’t lie to you. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

"Stop lying!" you screamed, your voice trembling as you felt yourself losing control. Shuri's face was etched with shock, while Adanna looked on with a knowing smirk. “All you have done since the moment we met was a lie!”

“No! No nkoszana, I’m telling the truth!”

Shuri reached out to touch you, but Jonathan moved to hold her back. In an instant, Shuri had him in a chokehold, a position where she could decapitate him easily if she wished. Adanna mirrored her actions with you, gripping you firmly. She clicked her tongue and waved her finger in a silent gesture of warning.

“Let her go, or I’ll kill him!”

“You first.” Adanna tightened her grip on you, applying more pressure to intimidate Shuri, causing you pain. You whimpered in her hold, pleading for her to let go.

“Adanna…”

“Let. Him. Go.”

“What do you want, huh? Why have you come back? After all these years, why are you here tormenting me?”

Adanna smirked, then roughly tossed you to the ground, the impact nearly knocking the wind out of you. As you struggled to catch your breath, Shuri kept a firm grip on Jonathan, who looked terrified for his life. Slowly, Adanna approached him, her eyes cold as she scanned the fear etched across his face.

“I turned him.”

Shuri stood silent in confusion.

“I saw you that day, you took him out here in the middle of nowhere thinking you were safe. I saw you drain the life out of him, but you didn’t actually kill him…and there was your mistake. You left him for dead, had you drank anymore from him, he would have died. But you didn’t. You just…left him there. To wither away with his thoughts, ran away from the crime scene you invented and I came in…and saved him.”

“A quick death would have been too easy for him. He deserved to suffer.”

“Why? Because of how he treated her??,” she says in disgust. “What makes her more deserving than me??”

“So this is what it is about?? Revenge?? I know I hurt you Adanna and that is something I have to live with for the end of time but your anger will not change the situation!”

“Maybe not…but it will make me feel better.”

Adanna moved with terrifying precision, driving a thick stick into your side with a swift, calculated thrust. The pain was searing, a torment that seemed to stretch on endlessly, enough to potentially kill you slowly, but not immediately. The world around you twisted into a blur as the pain took hold of you.

You remembered Shuri’s anguished reaction, even through the haze of your suffering. She let go of Jonathan immediately, racing to your side with a desperate urgency. Jonathan, unable to resist the overwhelming scent of your blood, stumbled after you but Shuri anticipated his move, intercepted him by driving a thick stick into him with equal force. Although it didn't pierce his heart, it was enough to weaken him drastically, sending him sprawling to the ground; his new vampire strength unable to withstand the attack.

Your memories were fragmented and disjointed; fleeting images of Shuri crying out for help as she held your limp body in her arms, the echo of chaotic footsteps in the hallways, and blinding flashes of light as everything around you dissolved into a painful blur.

“What was the incident??”

“I-I don’t know, she just…” Shuri's panicked cries fade into the background as you struggle to cling to life.

“Send her to the E.R.!”

"Stay alive, my love. Please don’t make me turn you this way," her voice echoed in your mind, compelling you to fight to stay alive. You struggled until everything around you went silent, enveloping you in a deep, profound slumber that brought you into a dreamlike state. You found yourself free, transcending the limits of your mortal existence. You were powerful and flawless, feeling an exhilarating strength that made you believe you could conquer anything. The world outside was cloaked in darkness, but you felt no fear. Instead, you felt invincible, where every shadow and obstacle seemed insignificant against your newfound strength. Your senses were heightened; the night air was crisp and alive with possibilities, and you reveled in the freedom and dominance that being reborn gifted you.

You drifted. And drifted. And drifted. Into an inevitable nothingness; claiming you for what seemed like an eternity.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You had been confined to bed for a while, the painkillers draping you in a shroud of sleep. Gradually, consciousness nudged at you, and you fought to pry your eyes open against the blinding whiteness of hospital lights. As your surroundings started to come into focus, a sharp gasp escaped you, accompanied by a stabbing pain in your side; lingering reminders of your wounds. A gentle breeze brushed past, and you turned to see Shuri swiftly by your side of the hospital bed. Her presence was peace to your weary soul, her eyes filled with relief and affection, warming you even as your mind struggled to fully awaken.

“A-am I a vampire now?,” were your first words as you fought the effects of the heavy medications.

Shuri chuckles, tears rolling down her eyes as she plants the firmest kiss to your forehead. “Nurse! She’s awake!”

“Shuri…what happened??”

“It’s okay baby…you’re ok now, you are going to be ok. I love you so much, do you know that? Please say you know that…”

In a fleeting instant, the memories surged back, crashing over you like a tidal wave. The faces of Jonathan and Adanna flickered in your mind, their actions replaying with a vividness that made your breath catch. You could almost feel the crushing weight of terror that overcame you, the harrowing brush with death that had nearly consumed you. It was as if you were reliving the torment all over again as you struggled to grasp the reality around you. The emotional sting is almost as painful as the physical one, as though it might pull you under once more.

“Why didn’t you turn me?”

Shuri stayed quiet, her brows knitting together in a wordless expression.

“Let’s talk later princess…the nurse should be here shortly.”

After a series of tests and a checkup, you were finally cleared to leave. As you settled into the wheelchair and were brought to the car, you noticed a stain of dried blood on the passenger's seat, a haunting reminder of that day’s events. The car ride home was quiet, tension thick in the air but the moment you arrived, Shuri used her vampire speed to grab the wheelchair and bring it to you before you could even open the door.

“I don’t need that,” you scoffed.

“S’thandwa, do not be stupid. Sit in the chair.”

“No, I’m not a cripple. I can do this myself.”

“Y/n…”

“I said no.”

There’s a brief pause before she smirks, then suddenly scoops you up, cradling you in her arms as if you weighed nothing. You let out a startled yelp as she lifts you effortlessly.

“You want to be stubborn? Fine, be that way.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, one you tried to suppress, hoping she wouldn’t notice. But, of course, she did. Nothing ever slipped past her.

As you entered the room, she carefully laid you down on the bed, her touch gentle and reassuring. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before settling beside you. Silence shook the room once more, but your mind was anything but quiet. Thoughts swirled in an endless stream, each one begging for attention, leaving you unsure of where to even begin unraveling them.

“I’m so so so sorry, y/n,” Shuri mutters. “I should have never brought you into this. This was my fault. And now they are both out there, bast knows where, most likely scheming against me which most likely involves hurting you because she hates how much you mean to me.”

You remain silent, letting it all sink in. A lone tear slips down your cheek, soaking into the fabric of the pillow beneath you.

“So why didn’t you turn me then?” Your voice was broken and bruised, beaten by what seemed like Shuri’s innate fear to make her like you. She turns around to face you, but your gaze remains on the empty ceiling. “It was the perfect opportunity. You could have just let me bleed out a little longer, pull me to the brink of death and then turn me.”

“Because that is what she wanted, princess. She wanted me to turn you in hopes that I would have the same fate with you as I did with her.”

“So what? Does she want you back or something? What does she want from me?”

“She wants revenge. She hates to see me happy after what I had done to her. She cannot fathom me being with the person I love while she rots in anger.”

You scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Well she’s dumb and needs to get a hobby.”

Shuri softly chuckles before speaking. “I also did not turn you because that’s not how I wanted it to happen.”

“What?”

“If I would have turned you right then and there, it would not have been because that was your choice. It would have been because of unfortunate circumstances and that is not fair to you. When I turn you, I atleast owe you that luxury I was never given.”

You struggled to process the words spilling from her mouth, disbelief tightening in your chest. Slowly, you turned to face her, your movements deliberate as you drew in a few deep breaths, trying to steady the ache building within you.

“Shuri…?” You had to make sure you were hearing correctly.

“This was never my intention, to let it get to this point. You were beautiful, and I was simply tired of being alone, and I selfishly took it upon myself to weave myself into your life and now we are here. I guess it was bound to happen.”

“Shuri, what are you saying??”

For a moment, she lay there, caught in the disbelief of the words she was about to speak, as if hesitating to give them life. She reaches out to caress your cheek, eyes locking in an instant and her gaze softened before she said the words you craved since the moment you truly knew her.

“You leave me no choice, my beautiful princess, but to turn you.”

A wave of beautiful relief washed over you, lifting the weight that had burdened your heart for so long. You felt as light as a cloud, as if, for the first time, everything might actually be okay. Shuri pulled you close, your face nestled against her chest as silent sobs shook your body. She understood immediately that these weren’t tears of sadness, nor were they tears of joy. They were tears of overwhelming relief.

Life had not been kind to you. People had walked all over you, leaving you feeling small, helpless, incapable of standing on your own. But Shuri was different. She made you feel like you were worth something, like you were worth fighting for. All you had ever wanted was to be free; nothing more, nothing less. And Shuri knew this. She felt it in the way your tears soaked into her shirt, as if the warmth of your need could breathe life into her dead beat heart. You needed this. You needed her. And she needed you too.

“I know baby…I know. I’m so sorry.”

You sobbed into her, inhaling her comforting scent into you, the scent you wished to breathe in for the rest of eternity.

“I’m so sorry I made it so hard for you to convince me. It’s not that I did not want to be with you forever…I was just so afraid.”

You lifted your face up to hers, her beautiful tear stained face locked in yours.

“I know, Shuri. It’s ok. I understand you.”

This was all you needed: a moment of comfort so profound that it felt as though it could last forever. And you yearned for it to be timeless, untethered by the fleeting time of your human days, existing beyond the limits of mortal time.

Weeks went by, and with each passing day, you grew stronger, your body healing and regaining its strength. Through it all, Shuri stayed by your side, every step of the way. She encouraged you to savor the human experience for as long as you could, and you agreed, finding joy in the small, everyday moments before they slipped away. Life felt more peaceful than it had in a long time, and Shuri was every bit a part of it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m ok now, love,” you giggled, as Shuri scooped you up in her arms.

“I know, I just get so worried about you.”

About 2 months have passed since the incident, and you were feeling much better. Here you were, in Shuri’s arms as she carried you to the bedroom like a princess. Your human lungs still drew in breath, and your heart continued to beat as you waited patiently for Shuri to fully bring you into her world.

When you both lied on the bed, you got the urge to try something. You straddled her, startling her as you took her mouth into yours. It had been so long since you had her, and you knew she resisted out of fear in hurting you but you missed her. Missed her touch and missed the way she made your body feel. But Shuri quickly detached from your lips and you whimpered at the hurtful act.

“No. Not yet. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please…please just let me,” you pleaded in desperation.

“I said no”

“Why?? Stop acting like I’m easily shattered. We used to fuck so good and everyday I go without touching you…tasting you…I literally lose my mind. I know you’re afraid and seeing me like how I was when I was hurt probably scarred you but I am not a child. I can take care of myself and right now…I want you. All of you. I miss you. I miss your gorgeous, sexy body and I miss feeling you inside me.”

She raised a brow.

“Don’t you miss me?”

She gazed intently into your soft eyes and your pouting lips, shaking her head with a playful sigh. She leaned her forehead into yours before she spoke.

“More than anything, my love.”

“Then what are you waiting for??”

Shuri hesitated, but her feelings of love and desire burned even stronger, overwhelming her uncertainty.

“Just this one time.”

“Just this one time,” you repeated. Your lips met slowly at first, the hesitation giving way to a rush of heat. She gripped the back of your neck to pull her closer, deepening the kiss until it felt like you two were breathing the same air. The world around you fell away, as you rekindled that fire that had not been burned in so long.

It did not take long for clothing to start coming off, shirts being removed first from the both of you as you lay on top of her. You pull her pants off so she’s in her undergarments only, slotting your knee between her pretty thighs until it comes in contact with her pussy that was pounding with a rush of pleasure. In no time, she begins to whimper, rubbing herself against you as your parted mouth swallows her moans. She looked so beautiful like this, caught in a desperate longing for more of you and no matter how hard she tried, she could never resist you.

“S-s’thandwa,” she stuttered, clearly nearing her peak as her movements grew more frantic. But you pulled yourself away from her, a sly smirk spreading across your face as you pushed her closer to the edge of madness.

“Want you to finish inside me,” you coaxed, whimpers caught in the back of your throat as you felt the warmth between your thighs flutter in ache. And that was all the confirmation she needed. She flipped you around with her vampire speed, testing the waters to see if you were ok and you were. She smiles and kisses your nose before she goes down to your mouth which quickly becomes the valley between your breasts before she wraps her mouth equally around each sensitive nipple.

“Please.” You struggled to hold back the subtle urge to beg, but being deprived of her touch for so long made your body impatient, eager to know what she had planned to do with it.

“Are we begging already, nkosazana?,” she teased with that amused expression that always had your heart pounding and it made you so embarrassed because you just knew she could hear it. You shook your head in challenge, trying to calm your whines but as soon as you felt her remove your bottoms, all the thin patience withered away. She kissed your inner thighs, plush lips meeting the scars she left from that day she marked you there and your chest was heaving.

“You should see how fucking wet you are right now…all because you need my touch that bad?”

“B-baby…please.”

“Use that mouth you love to run so much, princess. Tell me what you want.”

She inhaled your scent before planting soft kisses to the swell of your clit and your body trembled at the touch. But you knew she was not going any further until you spoke.

“Need you, baby…I want you inside me…please.”

“That’s a good girl. My needy little princess.” You nodded, because that is exactly who you were.

Your girlfriend smiles at you, her eyes dancing as they meet your desperate gaze. Shuri rose to her feet, abs all on display before removing her boxers and reaching for the vibranium toy she adored using on you. Shuri wasted no time, her eagerness clear as she longed to stretch your tight pussy walls. She grabs hold of your jaw, pressing her lips firmly against yours with sincere passion before she holds her shaft and pushes it into your leaking hole, your pulsing walls welcoming her in with ease while you both let out the filthiest moans into each other's mouths.

“I missed you, I missed you and your pussy so fucking much,” she whispered, her pace quickening as your cries grew louder. Your body shuddered violently against hers, overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, which made you squirm beneath her. Shuri's love for you was overbearing, and you felt the same for her. You longed for this moment to last forever. She dreamed of the days where she no longer had to be a vampire's gentle touch when having her sexual way with you, imagining how wonderful sex would be when she could fully express her body’s need for yours without the fear of breaking you.

“Just wait until I turn you, nkosazana. I will fuck you so good without destroying you.”

“You could do it now,” you playfully replied through your heavy panting. “F-fuck me like a true vampire right now…I d-don’t care if you b-break me.”

“You are fucking crazy, s’thandwa sam.”

“You love it though.”

“Yeah…yes I do, baby.”

You could only whimper in response, your eyes glistening with want and desire as she continued to push into you. It didn’t take long for you to reach your first orgasm. Or your second. Or even your third. You missed her deeply, and your pussy ached for her even more. Yet Shuri didn't pause, her thrusting never haltered because she knew that her favorite part was a few strokes away. She relished in overstimulating you, watching as your body quivered, breasts bouncing as you struggled to be good for her. And your girlfriend could always tell when you were; the way your eyes would go glossy, your lips pouting as you breathing picked up, grappling to put coherent words together. And you did it all for her. That was what she cherished most…the way you fought against the overwhelming pleasuree because of your love for her.

A tear escaped your eye and Shuri brushed it away with the pad of her thumb.

“Awww, my poor baby. Look at you…you're so helpless.”

“Sh-Shuri…”

“Yes?”

“W-want your c-cum inside me. P-please. Unh.”

“I’m right behind you s’thandwa, do not w-worry.”

She kept going, not too fast because she knew you were overstimulated, but enough to allow you to maintain it and bring you both to the finish line. Your orgasm washed over you like tidal waves do, an intense surge of pleasure that left you both breathless and disoriented. Every nerve in your body seemed to ignite, it was an explosion from within that had nowhere to land and your mind could only think of one thing: how you desired this, desired her more than you ever wanted anything else in your entire being. You could not wait any longer. Not another week, or day, or even another hour. You needed this, now and infinitely.

“I want you,” you whispered with big, doe eyes. Your voice trembled as tears clung to your dark, damp lashes streaked with the evidence of your longing. She put her fingers in her mouth, salivating those dangerous fingers of hers before bringing them down your body to circle your puffy clit and your body jerked up. Oh, how she loved to see you like this.

“Mhmm, keep going.”

“I want you forever, Sh-Shuri. Right here. Right now.”

She wore a look of confusion, her brows furrowing as she continued to rub you. She was right here with you and had no intention of leaving, but you proceeded with your unfinished statement.

“Turn me, baby. Please. Today. Now.”

She said nothing, only looked down at your plump lips and your round breasts. You were so beautiful in her eyes, and she wanted all of you.

“Princess—“

“No…I mean it. I want you. F-fuck…I w-want to be a v-vampire…with you. Oh.”

“You don’t know me.”

“But I do.”

“Who am I to you?” She slowed her movements on your clit, her strap still lingering inside you as she awaited your words. You whimpered one last time before you inhaled to speak.

“You are the most fucking selfish being I’ve ever met. You want what you want and you go after it. You get angry quickly and I know you live everyday fighting the urge to suck every ounce of blood inside of me and it scares me sometimes when I really think about it but I also know you’ll never hurt me. I know you’re hurt and I know you carry a lot of pain and anger inside of you, Shuri. And I know you try to hide it from me to protect me but your transparency only makes me want you more, no matter how dark your past is. I know you love me and I truly do believe that because I’ve never felt this before. I never felt so wanted and desired beyond what I look like on the outside. And maybe I’m just as selfish as you, because no matter how many people you’ve hurt or how many lives you’ve taken, you love me. And that’s all I care about. And now I just want to be with you for eternity.”

As the words fell from your lips, a wave of warmth surged through Shuri’s undead heart and she swears she felt it beat for a second. Each word and syllable echoed through her vampire mind, a mind that knew loneliness and despair like no other but in came you, the light at the end of the tunnel and she swears she could die from how much she loved you.

"Turn me," you repeated one last time, your voice carrying a soft insistence rather than a question. You caught a fleeting change in the color of Shuri's eyes, though she quickly masked it but you definitely noticed the subtle shift.

She returns her love to your clit, pulling you into your final human orgasm before she pulls out of you and you leak everywhere.

“I love you so so so much, y/n. More than anything in the world. More than I ever loved anyone before and I did not think I was capable of loving harder than I already have, but you, my most perfect girl, have proved me wrong.”

“I know Shuri…I know.” And you believed it.

“And you’re sure you want this? You want it right now? There is no turning back. This is permanent. This is for as long as eternity lasts for us. I don’t think you think you quite understand the meaning of immortality. ”

“And I never will if you don’t give it to me.” You reached up to cup her face, taking her in as you actively appreciated the pain of your beating heart. You could sense that these would be the last moments you could feel the patter against your ribcage, feel the breath entering your lungs, and the last moment you would feel at a human level before your emotions exploded like any immortal would.

Shuri removes her strap, so there’s nothing between your two beautiful dark naked bodies, holding you in her arms as a tear caresses her cheek.

“What’s wrong, my love?,” you questioned.

“Nothing is wrong…I’m just scared.”

“You have nothing to be afraid of. I believe in you. You can do this. You love me enough to stop.”

“But what if I don’t stop? I would not be able to live with myself…what if I hurt you??”

You gazed up at her with a look of sympathy, fully aware of how difficult this moment was for her but your belief in her remained unwavering. Gently, you drew her closer and pressed your lips to hers in a tender kiss before speaking.

“Then I’ll die happily in the arms of the one I love.”

Shuri's grin widened as she drew you in for one last, fervent kiss; a final, passionate exchange between human and vampire. This was the last moment you shared as a mere mortal before her fangs emerged, her irises shifting to the deepest red you had ever seen and you smiled at what was to come.

She leaned her head into the curve of your throat, pressing a soft kiss there before positioning her fangs above your artery, which seemed destined for her bite. Then, you felt it; her fangs piercing your skin with a depth that was unfamiliar and excruciating. Her bite wasn’t the bite of sexual pleasure or even to satiate her thirst; this was a transformative pain, a profound shift as she began to mold you into something like her.

You clung to her curls, tilting your head back to embrace the searing pain and the sensation of your life ebbing away with every second. Shuri reveled in the intimacy of the moment, her moans vibrating against your throat as your blood flowed into her. As you approached the brink of nothingness, stars danced in your fading vision, and death almost seemed to beckon with open arms. Almost. For a moment, there was nothing. No sensation, no sight, just darkness as you drifted into unconsciousness.

But then, you tasted it: Shuri’s blood. It was rich with power and possibility, a final, potent essence that completed your transition. As your life slipped away, all that remained was the true void, the absolute nothingness as your life faded away from you.

A few moments had passed and Shuri began to worry.

“Y/n…? Y/n…can you hear me??”

But you remained silent. Your mind ceased to think, your lungs no longer drew in air, and your heart fell still. You were dead.

“Oh…oh fuck…no, no, no, no, no…Y/N!! Baby, can you hear me?? Do not joke with me right now…please wake up!”

You were still. Nothing. Lifeless.

Shuri broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, her hand pressed to her mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle the convulsive cries tearing through her throat. How could this be? She had done everything right this time. She was certain she hadn’t killed you; she had felt your heart faintly beating when she gave you her blood. What could have possibly gone wrong?

“I am so sorry, baby…I’m so sorry, I should have never come into your life! I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU ALONE!! I’m so sorry, so sorry, so so sorry!”

Her sobs turned into a furious outburst as she began to tear apart her house, shattering everything in her way while she wrestled with her own existence. Overwhelmed by guilt and despair, she felt she could never forgive herself for what had happened. Consumed by the conviction that life without you was meaningless, she was determined to end it all.

But…

Gradually, life began to draw you out of the void. Memories of your entire existence, from infancy to the present, surged before you in a torrent of vivid images, both the good and the bad. The light at the end of the tunnel grew nearer and nearer until, suddenly, it stopped. You were there. You were here. Your eyes flew open in panic, and the first thing that hit you like an excruciating ton of bricks was the one thing that made you understand what Shuri fought so hard to keep you away from, an overpowering wave of something you never knew but your body understood: the smell of blood. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Twilight who????? If you actually read that whole thing, I love you so much omg! I hope you enjoyed and don’t forget to comment and share (why do I sound like a YouTuber), I absolutely love reading your comments! Thank you so so much again, for your patience, I know it was a long as wait and I hope it was worth it :)

#shuri black panther #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #shuri x reader #smut #shuri smut #angst #fluff #lesbian #vampireshuri #sapphicvqmpires

234 notes · View notes

tkwrites · 2 months ago

Text

A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Title: A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Summary: Due to circumstances outside of his control, Quinn finds himself late to a FaceTime date with Sarah. When she starts some fun by herself, Quinn can’t help but join in, even if he can’t see her.

Warnings: Smut (18+ only!) - masturbation, vibrator use, phone sex (sort of), long distance relationships, a bit voyeuristic?

Word Count: 973

Comments: In an effort to provide my fellow Americans some distraction on this very stressful election day, I present to you Quinn getting Sarah off with the vibrator she gifted him for his birthday - with a twist.

The idea of this came into my mind, and I just had to write it down. It also happened to be the piece that was closest to being finished.

I hope you enjoy! If you did, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

Also, let me know if you’d like to see a part two!

Anonymous asked: Can we expect to see Quinn putting that new vibrator to use with Sarah in the near future? 😍

Anonymous asked: Any change we could also get a little something of Quinn and Sarah for the election stress 👀

A Surprisingly Fortuitous Bus Ride

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Even though they were coming off a matinee win over the Penguins, this wasn’t the way Quinn would have chosen to end his day.

Their plane broke down in Pittsburgh, so what should have been a two hour flight turned into a three and a half hour bus ride. He knew things had to be done, and they had to get to Ohio to get in some solid sleep before the game tomorrow, but bus travel was his least favorite. It was crammed and smelly, and the bus rocked in a disconcerting way the plane never did.

He couldn’t fall asleep and on top of everything else, now he was late for a FaceTime date with Sarah.

She’d messaged they day before, wondering if he had a room to himself in Columbus.

When he confirmed that he was indeed roommateless the next evening, she responded, Oh, thank God. I’m so horny, I’m going insane.

Can’t you get yourself off?

Yeah, but it’s better when I can hear you.

That message had made him blush, but also filled his chest with so much pride, he felt like he could have single handedly taken down Crosby.

And now, he was stuck on this fucking bus. It definitely wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his evening. Especially not when Sarah was relying on him.

Trying to distract himself with the book he was reading, he almost didn’t look at his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him, and he pulled it out, wondering if he’d find another message like the ones from yesterday. Instead, the notification read: Lush: engaged

This bus ride was about to get a lot more interesting.

Anytime this notification came through, Quinn always felt a heady rush of euphoria. Sometimes, he didn’t even join in on the fun. Just knowing Sarah was pleasuring herself never failed to make his mouth water and his pants a little tighter.

She’d confessed a while ago that the toy she’d given him for his birthday was her favorite, even if she was controlling it herself.

The first few times they’d used it, he watched her get herself off with it before taking over so he could learn her limits.

Now, he opened the app and watched the slider for the internal motor tick up. The external motor stayed low and steady. He hardly ever saw it move. Occasionally, she turned it off altogether.

Watching the levels increase and decrease a few times, he knew she was working herself up — easing in, so the intensity the toy could bring on didn’t become too much.

He never thought he could get so breathlessly turned on from watching a slider move on his phone. After a few more minutes, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His fingers were itching to take control.

Finally giving himself permission, he switched the vibration pattern of the internal motor from the steady buzz to the thump-thump-thump. He liked to watch her fall apart around this particular pattern as it often caused her to breathe, moan, and clench down in rhythm. Watching her body sync up with it never failed to make him breathless.

Quinn Hughes! Her text popped up at the top of his screen. What the fuck! You can’t even see me.

In response, he turned the vibration up a tick. In case she decided to call, he put his AirPods in, though he hoped she wouldn’t. He was sure he’d start moaning if he had to listen to her orgasm, knowing he was controlling the pace. He was practically panting just imagining it.

I know what you look like, he shot back. I’m getting through this damned bus ride imagining how you sound.

The fact that Quinn was still making her feel this way when they weren’t even on the phone — that he was just watching the levels on his screen, relying on his memories to guide him — was incredibly hot. The fact that he knew her well enough to get her off without any visual or verbal cues made her feel cared for and loved on top of outrageously turned on.

It wasn’t as fun when he couldn’t hear or see her, but he still knew what she liked. After a few more minutes, he changed the pattern again to one that slid from low to high and back again.

Although she was alone in the house, Sarah still cried out, clutching at the sheets as pleasure rocked through her.

He let that one tease her for a while before switching back to the thumping and turning it up two ticks.

Before her first high had a chance to edge off, he switched the vibration pattern back to the thump-thump-thump he liked so much, and it sent her careening into another orgasm.

She wished he could hear her. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck! Quinn!”

The vibration stayed true and strong as the pleasure eased off. Before he could switch it again and send her into another overstimulating orgasm, she groped for her phone and turned the toy low enough that she could pull it out. Slick with lube and her release, it jumped out of her hand as it buzzed back to life. She had to wrestle it still until she could turn it off.

While she liked the orgasms as much as the next girl, she knew it would be even better when he was listening or watching, and if they kept going now, she wouldn’t have the energy to play once he was on his own.

She hadn’t expected Quinn to join in at all. He was on the bus, for god’s sake. She just needed something to tide her over until that evening.

She sent Quinn a melted emoji along with the message, You better be getting there soon so you can finish what you just started.

A smile beamed over his face.

Just an hour longer.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #tkanswers 📮#quinn hughes #qh43 #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn smut #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl smut #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #hockey smut

180 notes · View notes

naomijoestar · 2 months ago

Text

⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:･

Masterlist here <3

genre: fluff

warnings: none

characters: passione members (again..😅)

notes: Inspired by that one trend on tiktok, also guys i have noticed that i write for passione way too much!🥲 So please give me ideas for the other parts main groups

How each passione member would react to their girlfriend calling them “husband”

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno would be the definition of calm, but the moment he hears you say “husband,” a soft smile would tug at the corner of his lips. He’d pause whatever he’s doing and look at you with those kind, thoughtful eyes of his. “Husband, hmm?” he’d repeat, letting the word settle in the air for a moment. Then, he’d step closer to you, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “It suits us, doesn’t it?” He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but you’d feel his warmth, the unspoken promise in his gaze that, when he says something like this, he means it with every fiber of his being.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno would be composed on the surface, as always, but when you call him “husband,” you’d see his golden eyes widen slightly, just enough for you to know you caught him off guard. He’d smile that soft, knowing smile of his and say, “Is that how you see me?” His voice would be gentle, but there’d be something in his tone that made the moment feel important. Giorno might not be the type to indulge in romantic gestures, but you’d know he’s thinking about it seriously. After a pause, he’d add, “I wouldn’t mind that title someday.” With him, you’d feel that deep sense of commitment—like he’s already planning for that future without even having to say much.

Guido Mista

Mista would absolutely light up. The moment you call him “husband,” you’d see his face break into the widest grin, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. “Husband? You think I’m that cool, huh?” he’d tease, clearly enjoying the moment. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close, probably exaggerating a little for effect. “Well, I guess I better start acting like one then!” He’d play it off with jokes, calling you “wifey” for the rest of the day and pretending like he’s doing husbandly duties, like holding doors open or helping with small things, but deep down, you’d know he’s loving the idea of being your forever person. He’d likely even mention it to the Sex Pistols later, letting them hype him up over it too.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio would try so hard to play it cool. The moment you casually call him “husband,” he’d stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes narrowing as if he’s annoyed. “What did you just call me?” he’d ask, sounding gruff. But you’d catch the faintest blush creeping up his neck. He’d turn away for a moment, clearly trying to compose himself. “Don’t start throwing words like that around,” he’d mumble, but you’d notice that he didn’t actually sound mad. After a few moments of silence, though, he’d soften just a little. He’d glance at you from the corner of his eye and, in a quieter, almost hesitant voice, add, “Maybe… someday. If you’re serious.” It’s the closest you’d get to a romantic confession from him, but it would mean the world.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia would be all over the place with his reaction, full of energy and emotion as always. The second you call him “husband,” he’d freeze, his eyes going wide as he points to himself in disbelief. “Me?! Your husband?!” His voice would be filled with pure excitement and surprise, like he can’t quite believe you’re serious. Then, as if realizing how much he likes the sound of it, his whole face would break into the happiest grin. “Hell yeah, I’d be your husband!” He’d laugh and probably throw his arms around you, lifting you up in a hug and spinning you around. For the rest of the day, he’d keep randomly calling himself your husband, testing out how it feels. “Husband Narancia, coming through!” He’d be over the moon, already imagining your future together.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo would immediately tense up when you call him “husband,” his face flushing as if you just dropped a bomb on him. “What did you just say?” He’d ask in disbelief, his logical mind racing. His initial reaction would be a mix of panic and embarrassment, his hands twitching slightly as he overthinks the whole situation. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually!” he’d mutter, his brows furrowed as he tries to figure out how to respond. But then, after a long moment of silence, he’d let out a soft sigh, the tension easing from his shoulders. “But… if you mean it,” he’d say, his voice quieter now, “I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” His face would still be red, but there’d be a vulnerability in his expression, a hint that deep down, the thought of being your husband means more to him than he lets on.

Okay so I know I say this under most of my posts but I love this one soso much!!! It’s just so cute to me ugh🥹💞

If you guys enjoyed this make sure to check out my other work! And if you’d like me to write anything specific for any character/group from the parts 1-7 my requests are open! <3

192 notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 11 months ago

Text

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

Word Count: 627

Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago

Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.

“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”

“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.

“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”

“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.

Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.

“It’s over, (y/n).”

It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.

But it definitely is over.

“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”

His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.

You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?

“What is it?”

“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.

Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.

“What is all of this about?”

You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.

“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.

“Dumped.”

“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”

“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.

No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.

“You know what makes me so damn strong?”

What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?

“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“

“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”

“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.

What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.

“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”

You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.

“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”

Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?

“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.

Yeah, you got it.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazini @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

615 notes · View notes

wafflefries13 · 4 months ago

Text

Rose With(out) Thorns (Riddle x Reader)

Summary: Riddle needs help putting off his mother's plans to set him up for an engagement, so what better way than to fake date NRC's favorite magicless prefect? Things can only go well. (No, they can't.)

AN: Fake dating, yay! Had the idea for this a long while back, finally got around to writing it. And, like most of my fics I'm finding out, it kind of got away from me. I hope at some point, probably some time in book 7 here, we finally get a confrontation with Riddle's mom. I hate Riddle's mom, all the cool bitches I know hate Riddle's mom.

Warnings: Depictions of a toxic family environment, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

When Riddle had pulled (Y/N) aside after classes, she didn’t expect to be sitting in one of Heartstabuyl’s tea rooms, a cooling cup of herbal tea placed in front of her. (Y/N) sipped the tea, observing Riddle. His mouth was pulled into a small frown, eyebrows furrowed in determined concentration. His hands were clasped behind him and he was pacing so much (Y/N) was worried about him wearing a hole in the rug. It had almost seemed like he had forgotten she was there.

“Riddle?” She prompted gently.

Riddle jumped, startled. (Y/N) really did think he had forgotten about her. His face turned pink, blushing up to his ears. He cleared his throat, promptly sitting down in the chair across from her.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” He said, swirling a spoonful of honey into his tea. She tried to not take it personally that he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Something going on with Ace and Deuce?” She asked, jumping to the most logical conclusion. “I don’t mind meditating.”

“No, thankfully, both of them have actually been rather pleasant as of late. This is of a more… personal nature.”

“Oh? Are you doing okay?” She set her cup down, leaning forward.

His blush went from gentle pink to strawberry red. “I - ahem, yes, no, I’m fine, it’s not that I don’t - what I mean to say is, ah, well…” Deciding there was no elegant way to put it, Riddle’s shoulders slumped as he stared dejectedly into his tea. “It’s my mother.”

(Y/N) immediately tensed. “Oh.”

The last time (Y/N) had thought about Riddle’s mother was when he was about to leave for winter break. She remembered how quiet he had been, not even bothering to reprimand the excited first years running around the mirror chamber like excited kids. (Y/N) had taken advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch his phone from his dazed hands and entered her number.

“In case you need anything,” She had said. “Or, you know, you just miss me too much and want to say hi.”

He really did blush way too easily.

Of course, any plans for talking on the phone were quickly eliminated by the events at Scarabia. When (Y/N) finally did get her phone back, she found a couple of missed calls and overly formal texts from Riddle’s number, buried in between the frantic messages from Ace and Deuce responding to her SOS.

Back in the tea room, (Y/N) set her cup down, leaning forward to meet Riddle’s eyes. “Hey,” She said gently. “You know if I can do anything for you I will.”

“It’s not that easy,” He said. “My mother asked me to come home for the long weekend coming up. And I highly suspect she wants me there to… try and arrange a match.”

“A match? Wait, like getting engaged? Aren’t you kind of young for that?”

Riddle shrugged. “It would definitely be a long engagement, but it’s not uncommon to have a match set up years in advance, especially between prominent families like mine.”

“How very Jane Austen.”

“Sorry?”

“An author from my world, she wrote romances. Anyway, sorry, keep going.”

“Well, I agree that it seems soon. To be fair, Mother was trying to set something up before I came to Night Raven College as well. Being accepted to such a prestigious magic school only elevated my prospects, as she put it. She wants to establish a solid match with another high ranking family, setting my future in stone. Especially after everything that happened at the beginning of the year.” They were both quiet for a moment, fighting off memories of Riddle’s Overblot. “I…” Riddle continued. “I don’t think anyone back home knows.”

“Oh. Well, it’s like personal medical information, right? Even if it’s magical or whatever it’s still your mental health. You don’t owe anyone that.”

“I don’t think that’s why she hasn’t told anyone. I know it might be hard for you to believe after everything that’s happened this year, but Overblots are still considered rare. Not many survive the process. And those that do, well, they aren’t looked upon as kindly as you’ve looked upon us.”

(Y/N) set her cup down hard. “That’s not fair! It’s not some moral failing. You and everyone else were - are - dealing with really tough emotions! It’s not right to just ignore trauma and your feelings, that’s what led to everything happening in the first place!”

“I’m glad you see it that way. And, if I’m being honest, public perception of the emotional stress that can lead to an Overblot and those who make it through the process are gradually being seen with more sympathy. Like you said, it’s a mental health issue at the core. But older communities like the one I grew up in are slower to accept new social views.”

(Y/N) sat back. “I’m sorry, Riddle. That sounds really hard.”

“Thank you,” Riddle breathed. He cleared his throat. “Well, that sort of awkwardly leads to what I was wanting to ask you in the first place.” He cleared his throat again, nervously looking around the room. Finally, steadying himself, he forced himself to meet (Y/N) eyes. “I would like you to come with me and act as my partner.”

(Y/N) felt her head go light and heart jump. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

Riddle’s confidence cracked as he looked away again. “In so many words, yes.”

“Wow. Forget Jane Austen, this is more Meg Ryan territory.” Riddle blinked. “Never mind, forget it. I mean, not what you’re talking about, just, it’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

“It’s not the most conventional request, to be fair. But I’ve turned this over in my head for days and I can’t see any way out of it. My plan is to show I’m taken, dissuade the marriage market. It will be one less thing for Mother to hold over my head. I’ll probably have to deal with it eventually when I graduate but I don’t even want to consider getting engaged right now, for economic, political, or whatever other reason. I’ve never been overly fond of the prospects my mother has introduced anyway. Not that I want to pressure you or anything! I completely understand if you wouldn’t feel comfortable for any reason and I completely respect your decision-”

“Well, hey, don’t answer for me, now.” (Y/N) reached forward and touched the back of Riddle’s hand, jolting him out of the spiral he was throwing himself in. He jumped at the contact. “It’s unorthodox, but since when has anything here been orthodox? Of course I’ll help, Riddle. I can’t guarantee I’ll be very good at it, but I’ll do my best.”

Riddle blinked at her for a moment, registering her words, then the tension practically floated off his shoulders. “That’s - that’s great, thank you.”

“Hey, what are friends for? Besides, this will make a great story to tell the guys later.”

Riddle scowled, blushing again. “Don’t.”

~~~

A few days later, (Y/N) and Riddle stood in the mirror chamber. They had come up with a cover to tell everyone while they were gone. Since (Y/N) technically didn’t exist in Twisted Wonderland, not having any government papers or even a birth certificate, Riddle suggested they visit Dinah, the capital city of the Queendom of Roses and his home city, to petition at an official government building for temporary citizenship. It was really only a half truth. If they had time between the deception, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try.

Grim was staying at Heartstabuyl with Ace and Deuce, although it would be more accurate to say with Trey, since he was clearly the one in charge while the House Warden was away.

“And make sure to do that reading for History of Magic,” (Y/N) was saying, fiddling with Grim’s bow and magestone. “I marked the pages and put highlight tabs on the parts you need to take notes on. And don’t eat too many sweets, you’ll give yourself a stomach ache again. And don’t stay up too late or else you won’t have the energy to do anything during the day and you’ll throw off your whole sleep schedule. And-”

“Mrow!” Grim cried, batting her hands away. “I get it, I get it! I’m not a little kid, you know!”

(Y/N) smiled softly, scratching behind his ears. “Of course I know. You’re a big full grown dire beast who doesn't need anyone to take care of you. Why, I bet when I come back you won’t need me to cook for you anymore or make sure you wake up on time. You probably don’t even want a souvenir!”

“No, no! I like your cooking! And you better bring me something back, henchhuman!”

“Of course, Grim.”

Like a parent sending their child to school for the first time, (Y/N) and Grim detangled themselves from each other. Grim floated back with Ace and Deuce, who also required promises of souvenirs, and gave a final wave. (Y/N) waved back before stepping through the mirror portal after Riddle, luggage in hand.

There was always a strange feeling when going through the mirror, far spaces being squished together in a more convenient and transversable state. If (Y/N) hadn’t already been dragged underwater to swim through the depths unbothered, she would have compared it to being surrounded by water. Instead, she would more closely compare it the moments after a fall or jump, when totally suspended in the air with no tether. A slight jolt of the stomach at first, a feeling of weightlessness, a rush of cold along the spine, and then they were there.

(Y/N) still wasn’t completely sure how the mirror portal worked, or how it chose where to deposit someone, considering there wasn’t always a mirror on the other end. She knew it had something to do with the magestones NRC students wore on their armband, and that it helped to leave and come back from the same place, but other than that it was just another magic mystery she didn’t want to think too hard about.

(Y/N) shook her head as she stepped from the portal back on solid ground. Bright sunlight warmed her skin as she blinked and looked around. (Y/N)’s first impression of Dinah was a memory of a picturesque depiction of Victorian London. The street in front of them was wide, paved in even brick. There were store fronts painted in bright warm colors with big display windows, buildings stacked high with higher chimneys on top. Men and women strolled along the street, seemingly dressed to the nines for a perfectly ordinary outing, with top hats and long coats, bustled dresses in fanciful colors and feather hats.

A pair of horses pulled a dark blue omnibus carriage down the street, hooves making a pleasant ‘clip-clop’ sound as they meandered. It made (Y/N) wonder about the technological advancements of Twisted Wonderland, not for the first time. She had remembered how surprised she had been to see that cars existed in Sunrise City, when previously the only methods of transportation she had seen had been brooms, ghostly carriages, boats, and mirror portals. She frowned at the memory of Leona teasing her about her surprise.

“We have our own carriage,” Riddle told her, mistaking her expression as she watched the omnibus. “Mother sent it to collect us. It should be here - ah, there.” Riddle lifted his hand in greeting to the approaching carriage.

A white horse pulled a ruby carriage with a stenciled rose against a six-pointed starburst emblazoned on the doors. There were two men in stately red velvet livery on the carriage, one at the front, flicking the reins and lazily holding a horse whip, and the other holding on the back above the wheels. As they pulled along the sidewalk, the driver nodded and the footman jumped down to formally bow. He lugged their luggage atop the carriage, a barely noticeable judgmental sneer pulling at his mouth as he handled (Y/N)’s. While Riddle’s bag was neat and new, as beautiful as it was practical, (Y/N) had foraged hers from somewhere deep in the depths of Ramshackle dorm, among the abandoned rooms and chests and closets with all manner of ragged treasures. The carriage rocked as they climbed in, sitting on soft overstuffed bench seats facing each other. Riddle knocked against the roof when they were settled and the carriage rumbled forward.

(Y/N) stared out the window, marveling at everything they passed. “Hey, how far is Trey’s family bakery from here?” She asked.

“Hmm? Oh, not far, but I’m not sure we’ll have time to go by. I’m not sure Mother would approve of it.”

(Y/N) turned back to Riddle, noticing how he gazed out the window without really seeing anything. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, knee jittering with nerves.

She reached a hand forward and touched his jumping knee, causing him to startle. “Hey,” She said softly. “It’s going to be okay. You got me here with you, right? And-” She rummaged through the pocket on her NRC uniform, the most formal attire she had for making a good impression. She pulled out a small Moleskine notebook, proudly displaying it. “I’ve been taking notes! I have a bunch of the Queen of Heart’s rules here. I don’t have nearly as many memorized as you do but I figured a cheat sheet wouldn’t hurt.”

Riddle looked at the notebook for a second before smiling in relief. “Thank you, (Y/N). I’m sorry, I haven’t been a very good host so far, have I? Especially considering what you’re doing for me.”

(Y/N) switched sides, landing heavily next to Riddle as the carriage went over a bump. She lightly knocked his arm with the back of her fist. “I told you it’s fine. I’m happy to help out. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so uptight before, and that’s saying something.”

Riddle frowned. “I’m not uptight.”

“Sure you’re not, teapot tyrant.” Riddle huffed and turned away. “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Seriously, though, are you doing okay?”

Riddle fiddled with his fingers, choosing his words carefully. “The last time I came home, over winter break, my mother and I… well, it wasn’t a fight, exactly. An argument. That just so happened to lead to raised voices. And some harsh words. And maybe some things that are hard to take back.”

(Y/N) wasn’t really sure what to say to that. She sat back, focusing on the rumbling of the carriage beneath her. She noticed Riddle fiddling with his fingers again, picking at the skin around his nails. She slid her hand into his, holding it tight between them. She stared straight ahead, ignoring Riddle’s look of shock, no matter how cute his rising blush made him look. She squeezed his hand once, looking out her window. Riddle watched her face in profile, feeling the warmth of her hand in his, their shoulders occasionally bumping each other with the rocking of the carriage. He turned back to his own window, squeezing back.

A short while later, the carriage pulled in front of an elaborate townhouse. It had a beautiful red brick facade with white trimming around the windows and door. Ivy climbed elegantly up one side of the building There was a waist high black wrought iron fence around the perimeter, and the small yard in front was studded with blooming red rose bushes with butterflies elegantly flitting from flower to flower. And, while it was undoubtedly beautiful and picture perfect, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a little put off by the whole image. It seemed too perfect, not a blade of grass out of place or a bruised petal. Even the butterflies felt like they were on a preapproved flight path. Despite the fresh air outside, it was stifling.

As the footman on the carriage unloaded their bags, (Y/N) made a move to pick hers up, only for a valet to swoop in and effortlessly scoop up both bags. He turned and marched back through a door that seemed to shimmer out of nowhere, disappearing behind the ivy when he went through it.

“A servant’s entrance,” Riddle told her. “There are several through the house. It helps keep everyone separated.”

“I could have gotten my stuff,” She said. “It’s heavy.”

“You’re a guest. It would be impolite to expect you to carry your own things.”

A man in a crisp black suit with a gold pocket watch dangling from the front breast pocket opened the door, bowing low with a hand on his chest. “Welcome back, Master Riddle.” He said. The man looked up, sweeping a quick but appraising look over (Y/N). “And this is Miss (Y/N)?”

“Yes, hello!” (Y/N) greeted, smiling brightly. She walked forward, taking hold of the man’s hand and with both of hers and shaking it. She missed the choking gasp Riddle let out behind her. “Just (Y/N) is fine. It’s so nice to meet you! This is a lovely home. I’ve never been to Dinah before, everything is so beautiful! I’ve only been to the Queendom of Roses once before, in this place called Clocktown for a festival, but it’s so much different here.”

The butler nearly reared back at her greeting, going stiff as a board, but too polite to all together flinch and snatch his hand back. He merely retracted his hand, looked once at Riddle, then gazed straight ahead impassively. “Yes, well, welcome to the Rosehearts townhome. I hope you… enjoy your stay, Miss (Y/N).”

(Y/N), determined to push through the awkwardness she could sense building, replied chipperly, “Thanks!” And strode inside without looking back.

“Thank you, Edgar,” Riddle said as the butter closed the door behind them. “Do you know when Mother and Father will be home?”

“Dr. Rosehearts was called in for a last minute surgery and I believe Mr. Rosehearts is at his club. They both planned to be home for dinner to meet you and your… guest.”

The only way (Y/N) could think to describe the townhouse was grand. A grand sweeping staircase to the second floor, marble flooring of black and white checkered tile, two rooms on either side of the entrance hall stuffed with comfortable furniture with lace, one room farther to the back half-hidden behind the staircase, and decorative oil paintings.

“Wow,” She said. “This is where you grew up?”

“Partially, yes,” Riddle said. “We have a country estate as well, but the hospital is in town and Mother always wanted to be present for the social season.”

“Ooh, a country estate and the social season. Look at you, sounding all fancy.”

“Well, excuse me for being raised in polite society, unlike some people.”

“Hey!” (Y/N) laughed, playfully shoving him as he grinned back.

Riddle’s eyes cut back to Edgar the butler, watching the two of them with a critical eye and raised eyebrow. Riddle cleared his throat and schooled his face back to a serious expression. “I’ll show you your room, (Y/N). It’s upstairs.”

“Was it too much?” (Y/N) asked as they ascended the staircase, out of ear shot from Edgar. “I was trying to make a good impression.”

“People don’t tend to be as friendly with strangers here,” He said. “When you meet my parents it would be better to wait for them to act first.”

“So no big hug?” She laughed at Riddle’s glare. “Don’t worry, I’ll be picture perfect polite tonight. I know it’s important to you.”

“Thank you. To be honest I still feel awkward about all of this.” “I could say ‘what are friends for’ but I think we’re a little past that. It’s not like I’m getting nothing out of this. This place is like a fancy hotel!” She pushed open the door to her room, bright with the sunlight streaming in across a bed with a large fluffy white duvet across it. (Y/N) spun around, falling against the bed with a ‘poof’ of the down feather pillows. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so soft,” She sighed. Suddenly she sat straight up. “Oh, oh! Show me your room!”

“What?”

She jumped up, taking his hand and pulling him back down the hall. “Come on, let me see your room! I want to see what you’re like when you're not at school.”

“Much the same, I promise.”

His eyes cut to a door down the hall and (Y/N) grinned wickedly. Ignoring Riddle’s sound of protest, she threw open his door.

She faltered a bit as she looked inside, stomach squeezing with that same unease she felt from outside. Spartan wouldn’t be the right way to describe Riddle’s childhood bedroom. Sure, there was plenty of stuff in it, a neatly made bed, an expensive looking desk with a glass hooded reading lamp, plenty of books filling shelves, and a polished wardrobe. But it felt so bare. It felt more like a catalog picture than someone’s own bedroom they had grown up in. (Y/N) looked back to Riddle, who was looking down as if ashamed, like his room was full of trash rather than uninspiringly neat.

(Y/N) forced a smile to her face, closing the door. “Well, show me around. Back in my world, houses like these would have a bunch of secret passages, maybe a couple of ghosts. But I guess ghosts aren’t all that unusual here.”

“I think your home has more ghosts than mine,” Riddle said. “As for secret passages…”

(Y/N) clapped her hands together. “Yeah?”

Riddle smiled slyly. “Sorry, none of those either. Unless you’re thinking of servant’s doors, but I don’t think they would appreciate us meddling.”

“Aw, boo.”

“No pun intended, I’m sure.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“How about the garden? It’s out back. I’ll have someone bring us tea. It’ll give us a chance to strategize.”

The garden was nestled in the backyard of the townhome, bordered by high fences separating it from the other townhomes. There were, unsurprisingly, rose bushes in raised wooden boxes. White gravel pathways cut through each of the boxes, strolling under a trellis wound with flowers. To the back of the garden was a small glass greenhouse, filled with different medical herbs and plants along with scientific equipment for study. There was a small table on the back porch underneath a pergola wrapped with ivy. After Riddle gave (Y/N) a tour of the gardens they sat down and a maid brought out a white China teapot, pouring tea into delicate blue and white tea cups. (Y/N) inhaled the steam, letting the warmth and sweet notes of the tea fill her lungs before taking a sip.

“Thanks!” (Y/N) said to the maid who blinked before bobbing a nod and rushing off. (Y/N) made a note to herself that the servants here had a habit of avoiding eye contact. “Okay,” She said, taking a blueberry scone from a plate the maid brought with the tea. “What’s our game plan?”

“Well, my mother is obviously the one to impress. I don’t believe Father will have much to say, he usually defers to her. That’s usually a good plan with anything, deferring to her, I mean. Safe topics of conversation include the weather, recent medical innovations, and the health and travel of neighbors. It’s best to avoid personal topics like parliament, gossip, or personal questions. It’s also best to avoid discussing novels, Mother says they fill one’s head with fanciful ideas and nonsense.”

“Okay, so when would be the best time to brag about you?”

Riddle’s teacup clattered against the saucer. “What?”

“Well, you’re my fake boyfriend and I’m trying to look good in front of your mom, so it makes sense if I talk you up, right? Like how you’re a great dorm leader, that dressage stuff you’ve been doing in the equestrian club, how you’ve been helping other students study. Cater told me about how you set up a Magicam account just to help him study, that was super cute.”

“I’m, ah, not actually supposed to have a Magicam account, educational or otherwise, so it’s probably best not to bring that up. Mother says social media rots your brain.”

“I mean, sometimes, yeah, but it can be fun too. And I know you still post sometimes. I follow you.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do! Those study tips didn’t just help Cater. Plus I like to see what’s going on with you. Not that you post stuff very often or anything, but I did like that picture from the last Unbirthday Party with those cupcakes you made.”

Riddle waved her praise off. “They weren’t anything special. Most of the frosting was smudged all together anyway.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. You don’t have to be perfect at everything, especially the first time around. And I thought they were cute.” She fished her phone out of her pocket, quickly swiping to the picture they were talking about on Magicam. It was a close up of Riddle, smiling, face smeared with red frosting. Trey was caught mid-laugh, handing him a napkin. Ace’s hand was blurred with movement in the lower right edge, having snagged a cupcake from the tray Riddle was holding, covered with cartoon rose dotting liners. It was obvious that the red and white frosting on top was meant to replicate delicate rose petals, and while some of them looked presentable, most had been piped with a shaky hand, leaving too much or too little frosting for the petals. “See? Cute.”

Riddle’s hand darted forward to push the phone down. “Yes, sure, fine, you made your point! I knew I should have taken that down.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Riddle sighed, accepting defeat. “Fine, yes, just don’t bring it up at dinner.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, it doesn't seem like there’s a lot of wiggle room for conversation here. What do you usually talk about when you come home?”

Riddle took another sip of tea. “My studies, mostly. Class rankings, the local social season, applying for medical colleges, that sort of thing.”

“What about your friends at NRC? Or all the weird and exciting stuff that happens? Like when we all went to the ghost realm at Halloween, or Fluer City at Halloween? Wow, a lot of crazy stuff happens around Halloween, huh?”

“That’s all superfluous. My grades and plans for the internship fourth year are more important.”

“Riddle.” (Y/N) reached across the table, taking Riddle’s hand. “That stuff is still important, you know. We’ve gone through a lot of crazy stuff, a lot of it dangerous and scary. It’s okay to talk about that. There’s life outside of classrooms.”

Riddle looked away but squeezed her hand. “I know. And I’m getting there, with priorities and understanding others. But this sort of thing is important to her. And I still want to impress her, to have her be proud of me. Despite everything.”

(Y/N) pressed her lips together. She wanted to say something supportive, something wise, something to make everything better. But nothing seemed right, nothing to encapsulate the pity and support (Y/N) felt all at once. In the movies or on TV, there was always some sort of all encompassing resolution, a final speech to make everything better. But she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t seem to express exactly how she felt. That Riddle didn’t need to constantly try so hard, to always make himself a perfect image for others to view. That he was allowed to like the things he liked, no matter how trivial or silly they seemed. Make bad frosted cupcakes, learn dressage, play games, be a teenager like everyone else for once. That she had such strong feelings for him, faults included. But nothing seems right. So she just squeezed his hand back.

“Master Riddle,” A voice said, startling them both. Edgar stood at the door, casting a permanently judging look at the two of them. “Doctor and Mr. Rosehearts have returned. They have requested your presence in the dining room.”

Riddle jumped up, smoothing his outfit even though it was spotless. “Right, well, (Y/N), I suppose it’s time you meet my parents.”

Now that the time was actually here, (Y/N) didn’t expect to feel so nervous. Well, maybe nervous wasn’t the right word. Sure, she was anxious, hoping to make a good impression and help Riddle with their plot, but there was something else mixed with it. A kind of dread at coming face to face with a woman she had only ever heard bad things about. This woman, whether intentional or not, set the ground for Riddle’s Overblot. She was not an insignificant part of his emotional distress, his stress, the walls he put up around himself. How were you supposed to feel about a person like that? Especially when the object of that stress still so strongly wanted her approval?

Edgar escorted them to the dining room where the table was already set and a maid and footman were starting to set out the first course. (Y/N) felt her heart jump unpleasantly in her chest as she came face to face with Dr. Rosehearts. The older woman’s steely gray eyes locked on to (Y/N)’s directly as she stepped in the room. She felt like her skin had been peeled back and every dark and unpleasant thought she had ever had had been thrown on the table for everyone to inspect. Dr. Rosehearts’ otherwise perfect cupid’s bow mouth was pulled into a tight frown. Her red hair, matching perfectly to her son’s, was pulled back in a tight bun clasped at her neck, a deadly looking sharp hairpin keeping it together. She looked elegant and flawless, more like an expensive bone China doll than an actual living breathing person in front of her. (Y/N) almost jumped in surprise when she finally noticed Riddle’s father. He was reading a newspaper, sharp cheekbones and tired, watery eyes under wavy mousy brown hair. Other than a brief flit of his eyes as the two of them entered, it was almost like he didn’t notice them at all.

“Riddle,” His mother said, standing and turning to her son. (Y/N) felt like a stone had been removed from her chest as Dr. Rosehearts’ eyes finally left hers. “Welcome home. Take a seat.”

Riddle marched over to his seat opposite his father, sitting with a ramrod straight back, looking straight ahead. (Y/N) faltered for a moment, wondering if she should sit next to Riddle or Mr. Rosehearts. The second of hesitation was noticed by Dr. Rosehearts, whose mouth ticked in annoyance. Riddle subtly nodded his head to the chair across from him, next to his father. (Y/N) scuttled over, pulling the chair out with an undignified squeak against the floor. Mr. Rosehearts looked up at her as she sat down, blinking like she had materialized out of thin air.

“Mother, Father,” Riddle said, voice stiff. “Allow me to introduce my partner, (Y/N) (L/N), Ramshackle Dorm Prefect at Night Raven College. (Y/N), this is my mother, Dr. Victoria Rosehearts, and my father, Mr. Albert Rosehearts.”

“Please to meet you,” (Y/N) said, giving what she hoped was a bright and welcoming smile. “Thank you for having me.”

“Yes, well,” Dr. Rosehearts said. “I must admit it was a surprise when Riddle told me he was bringing a guest home for the holiday.”

“Well, Riddle always talks so fondly about Dinah and I haven’t traveled too much, so I couldn’t help but impose. You have a lovely home, by the way.”

“I do wonder,” Dr. Rosehearts said, ignoring (Y/N)’s attempted start at conversation. “How a young girl such as yourself comes to attend an all boys school?”

“To be totally honest I’m not really sure myself,” (Y/N) said, laughing through the awkwardness of Dr. Rosehearts intense direct gaze. “We’ve been trying to figure that out since I first got here. It’s been kind of a struggle getting a hang of everything, considering I can’t even use magic, but I-”

(Y/N) was interrupted by the clatter of Dr. Rosehearts’ spoon clattering against her soup bowl. Even Mr. Rosehearts looked up, suddenly intrigued. “Did you say you can’t use magic?” Mr. Rosehearts said.

(Y/N) gulped, looking quickly at Riddle who was going pale. “Well, no, I can’t. I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I’m not even from this world. Dimension? Anyway, magic doesn't exist in my world. Somehow one of the black carriages swept me up and brought me here. No one can figure out how or why yet, not even our Magic Mirror. Our headmage has been trying to research it but I guess there’s not a lot of studies on interdimensional travel.” She tried to laugh off the heavy atmosphere. “But no, no magic. Can’t even ride a broom, which is a shame because that’s the one thing I would really love to do.”

Dr. Rosehearts cleared her throat, dabbing her mouth delicately with a napkin. A maid hastily rushed in to clear her soup. “Well, I suppose Night Raven College’s admission requirements have become quite lacks as of late, having common folk mingling with upper crust society and nobles, not to mention allowing fae folk. I suppose anything is possible at this rate.”

(Y/N) scowled, finding herself blurting out her next statement despite Riddle’s miniscule shake of the head. “Hey, everyone works really hard at NRC. Where they’re from or their family doesn't matter, they’re all great mages. Besies, it’s the Magic Mirror that chooses people. It’s able to see everyone’s potential. And with everything that’s been going on this year everyone’s only gotten better. It’s amazing some of the stuff I’ve seen them do.”

“Oh?” Mr. Rosehearts said, folding his paper closed and leaning forward. “Has it been an interesting year?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I don’t know what a typical year at a magic school is like, but to me it’s been insane! There was one time where one of our dorm heads got kidnapped by a ghost bride to marry him, and everyone got together to try to woo her away. She ended up slapping half of them and freezing them in place. Oh, Riddle was here, he had this amazing red velvet suit. Or one of our magestones got stolen by a fairy queen and we had to stage a whole heist to get it back. Our coach, Coach Vargas, had these camps to test people’s abilities and survival instinct when they couldn’t use magic. But then he dressed up as a monster and ‘kidnapped’ a bunch of students so everyone else had to come rescue them. The next camping trip he got one of our other professors in on it too. And every once and a while we’ll have this Culinary Crucible that they had to change the judging for because everyone kept cheating, but-”

“My!” Dr. Rosehearts suddenly exclaimed. “I don’t believe I remember the last time we had so much chatter at a mealtime.”

(Y/N) felt her face heat up, but she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or anger.

Mr. Rosehearts, who had been nodding along to (Y/N) recollection of events with rapt attention, cleared his throat with a cough, leaning back in his chair and taking up his newspaper again. “Yes, well, youth these days,” He said, noncommittal.

Despite the fact that a maid had just brought out the next course, Dr. Rosehearts stood. “I find I’ve lost my appetite,” She announced. “I will be retiring early tonight. Riddle, we have an appointment at the Lorina Hotel tomorrow for high tea. Make sure you and your guest wear something presentable.” With that, she swept from the room without another word. The silence that followed was brittle, like ice on a lake right before someone plummets through it.

“Well,” (Y/N) said, breaking the quiet. She stood, walking over to Dr. Rosehearts abandoned plate and picking it up, dumping the roasted chicken and vegetable onto her own plate. “More for me then.”

~~~

Later that night, (Y/N) had apologized to Riddle no less than twelve times. She tried to defend herself, that she was taken by surprise that his parents didn’t know about her unique circumstances, that she was annoyed how dismissive Dr. Rosehearts had been, that she just started talking and couldn’t figure out how to stop. Not that any of it really excused her behavior, she knew. She felt like she had let Riddle down, ruining whatever chance, no matter how slim, of this being a peaceful visit home. And, while Riddle had repeated every time that it was fine, that she was okay, that he should have prepared her better, she still felt bad.

(Y/N) had never been to a high tea before. She wasn’t 100% sure what to wear, especially with Dr. Rosehearts’ comment from the night before. And it wasn’t like she had an extensive wardrobe to choose from in the first place. Thankfully, their alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion design had somehow grown fond of her during the school year, providing her with a few outfits to help her fit in better outside of school. The next morning, she pulled a dusty blue sundress with little white buttons out of her luggage. She had a pair of sandals more suited to the beach than a hotel, but they fit the theme better than her school loafers. She slipped them on and hoped no one would look down.

Tea was scheduled for 11 so (Y/N) decided to find Riddle and try to get a better lay of the land before they headed out. He didn’t answer her knock, which she thought was strange as Riddle wasn’t the type to sleep in, even if he was home on break. She felt strange wandering through the house. Every once and a while she would see a maid or footman dart out of one of the hidden servant’s doors, but before she could start a conversation or ask where her hosts were they would duck their heads and disappear.

She eventually found Mr. Rosehearts in the breakfast room, which was the same as the dinning room but with a changed name for some reason. The thick curtains had been thrown open letting light pour in across the spread on the table. Despite the fact that there was enough food to feed at least ten people, Mr. Rosehearts was the only one present, absentmindedly nibbling on some jam slathered toast.

(Y/N) forced a smile to her face. She might have ruined her first impression with Dr. Rosehearts last night, but Mr. Rosehearts had at least seemed intrigued by what she had to say. “Good morning!”

Mr. Rosehearts jumped, dropping his toast jam side down on the spotless table cloth. “Oh! Good morning.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The last thing she needed right now was to turn both of Riddle’s parents against her.

Mr. Rosehearts waved her off, gingerly picking up the toast and plopping it on his plate. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just not used to company in the morning, is all. Not that I mind it. Please, sit.”

“Is everyone else still asleep?” (Y/N) asked, scooping up some chive studded scrambled eggs on her plate.

“Oh, no, Victoria doesn't believe in sleeping in. It disrupts the normal circadian rhythms, you know, especially for teenagers like you and Riddle. No, she and Riddle were speaking in her office.”

“Oh.” (Y/N) suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “I think I need to apologize.” Mr. Rosehearts looked up, blinking owlishly. “I was rambling last night, at dinner. I shouldn’t have been so argumentative, especially since I’m a guest in your home. I’ll be putting a better foot forward from now on, promise.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh, no, please, think nothing of it. Actually,” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was hoping you could expand on some of those stories you started last night. Just between you and me, I happen to have a penchant for gossip.” He patted the newspaper beside him. Now that (Y/N) got a closer look, she realized it was a society gossip column. She smiled, getting Bridgerton flashbacks.

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of stories. Do you want to start with Fleur City almost burning down or Magicam Monsters taking over NRC?”

Meanwhile, Riddle sat in an uncomfortable straight backed chair in his mother’s office. Various papers floated around the room, magically organizing themselves in various case files. A free-standing pen signed Dr. Rosehearts’ signature across multiple forms. Despite the warm morning light filling the room, Riddle felt chilled.

“I wonder,” Dr. Rosehearts said, sitting behind her large mahogany desk, hands clasped in front of her. “About the company you have chosen to keep while away at school.”

“(Y/N) is a respectable person,” Riddle said. “She was just thrown off last night. She’s still not used to many of our customs. She’s a fast learner, however, she’s acclimated remarkably quickly to life here. Given that she has no base of knowledge for many of the classes at Night Raven College she has good grades and-”

Dr. Rosehearts held up a hand, stopping Riddle with the words of praise in his throat. “The way the ones you associate with act reflects on you, Riddle. It also reflects upon me and the whole Rosehearts household. You should know better by now.”

Riddle felt his face flush, looking down. “Yes, Mother.”

“Really, Riddle, I didn’t think you’d be the type to fall for any pretty face. And how much do you actually know about her background, anyway? You said yourself she’s not from here. Who knows what kind of manipulation she might be playing at, using our good name against us?” Riddle bit his tongue, your defense springing into his mouth. “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Yes, Mother, I know.”

“Wonderful.” Dr. Rosehearts stood, Riddle following. “We’ll continue to house Miss (Y/N) here during the break, it would be bad form to throw her out at this point, but as soon as you return to school I expect you to end this frivolous excursion.”

Riddle felt his heart drop into his stomach. “But, Mother, I-”

“No buts, Riddle,” She said sternly. Riddle immediately looked down, avoiding her cold iron gaze. “I know best for you. You’ll do as I say. We have a plan for you, remember? There’s no use upending your future over some fleeting fancy. And besides, there are many wonderful eligible ladies here in town. We’ll be meeting a few of my top choices for you at the hotel. And we’ll be attending a ball tomorrow night. Your friend is not invited, by the way.”

Riddle drew in a sharp breath, a million things he wanted to say racing through his mind. His mother had arranged a meeting with bachelorettes when he had told her he already had a girlfriend? He realized with a sinking sensation that no plan he and (Y/N) would have come up with would have been good enough for his mother. She had her plan and nothing would be able to change it. He suddenly had the sensation of floating, no, falling, with no anchor or safety net. His stomach flipped and a rush of cold descended over his body.

“Yes, Mother,” He only said.

Dr. Rosehearts nodded definitively. She swept from the office, Riddle following close behind with downcast eyes. They both paused on the stairway, startled by the sound of laughter floating out from the breakfast room. Riddle pushed past his mother into the room. (Y/N) and his father sat at the table across from each other. His father’s head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in a raucous laugh. Riddle couldn’t remember the last time he heard his father laugh like that, or even laugh at all. (Y/N) was in the middle of a story, hands animated.

“So of course the referee asked who he is, because their team didn’t have anyone signed up for an alternate, and Leona goes and uses my name! Like no one would recognize the second prince of the Sunset Savannah. And you know what, no one did!”

Mr. Rosehearts put his hand against his chest, trying to regain his composure. “And then? Did you at least win?”

“Oh, of course, yeah! And then we all had to run away in this jeep Leona was driving right when it started to rain. I’ve heard Checka still calls him ‘Unca (Y/N)’ sometimes.”

Mr. Rosehearts looked up, noticing Riddle and Dr. Rosehearts standing in the doorway. “Oh, Victoria! (Y/N) was just telling me the most wonderful story. Did you know she’s friends with Prince Leona of the Sunset Savannah? And the Asim heir, they donated at the last charity gala you attended, didn’t they? It’s amazing the adventures children can get up to now a days-”

“You’re very chatty this morning, Albert,” Dr. Rosehearts cut him off. “This much noise in the morning is quite unusual, don’t you agree?”

Mr. Rosehearts’ face dropped and he squirmed in his chair. He picked up his newspaper, flipping it so a person couldn’t see what he was reading.

(Y/N) frowned at the sudden change of mood, but gave Riddle a warm smile when she saw him. It was amazing how he almost immediately felt lighter. He really hoped he wasn’t blushing again. “Hi!” She chirped, standing. Riddle felt a rush of mixed emotions. Part fluff at (Y/N) smiling at him, beautiful in her sundress, part embarrassment knowing it was exactly the wrong thing to wear, and no doubt his mother had clocked that immediately.

Riddle reached for a cheese danish. His mother’s hand snapped out, swatting his hand away. “You’ll have sweets at the hotel,” She said, sniffing. “You don’t need the extra sugar, especially this early in the morning.”

‘Then why have it on the table?’ (Y/N) thought uncharitably. She went over to Riddle, linking her arm through his, pulling him away from Dr. Rosehearts. “You’re sweet enough already, Riddle. When do we head out?”

Later, as they were waiting for the carriages to head to the hotel, Riddle pulled out and quickly ate the danish (Y/N) had slipped in his pocket.

~~~

The Lorina Hotel stretched high above their heads. (Y/N) leaned back to take in the full scope of it. The facade was clean white bricks with dozens of windows glinting in the sunlight. Each story was capped by marble carvings of lions with wings, jumping fish, and flowers.

“No time for gawking,” Dr. Rosehearts said, straightening her gloves. “We have people waiting for us.”

“We do?” (Y/N) asked, purposefully ignoring Dr. Rosehearts thorny glare. “Are they your friends, Riddle?”

“Not in so many words,” He replied.

A finely dressed doorman opened the door to a lavish lobby. Before (Y/N) had a chance to ‘gawk’ again, Dr. Rosehearts swept them off to a side room. She gave their name to a waiter at a podium. The man skimmed the list of reservations in front of him, looking down his nose at (Y/N) and her uncovered shoulders. While (Y/N) was too enamored observing her surroundings, Riddle noticed. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and brought it around her shoulders. The man sniffed. He led them through the tea room to two tables situated against a large window. They sat by a large window opening onto a courtyard in the middle of the hotel. Guests strolled across the green lawn, admiring flowers. Dr. and Mr. Rosehearts sat at their own small table while Riddle and (Y/N) were directed to one that had three other residents already.

“Riddle!” One of them called, smiling up at him. “How lovely to see you again.”

(Y/N) felt Riddle stiffen beside her. “Hello, Lily, Rose, Violet. It’s nice to see you all as well.”

(Y/N) slipped her hand into Riddle’s, who jumped in surprise, before inserting herself in the girls’ line of sight. “Hi! I’m (Y/N), Riddle’s girlfriend. It’s nice to meet some of his friends from home!”

All three girls, in Victorian inspired puffed up dresses with more lace and tulle than (Y/N) had ever seen before and large elaborate sun hats to match, startled, blinking at her as if she had appeared out of thin air.

Almost in sync, the three of them whipped out decorated fans. “Oh, hello,” Violet said. “We weren’t aware Riddle was bringing a guest.”

“You’ll just have to put up with me then, I guess.” Riddle pulled out her chair and, with a surge of confidence and a sideways glance at the three girls, (Y/N) quickly kissed his cheek. (Y/N) smiled at the shocked gasp they let out as Riddle’s face turned red. She couldn’t help but reveal in Dr. Rosehearts’ glower as Mr. Rosehearts discreetly smiled into his tea. “So, how close is this to the unbirthday parties at school?”

“An unbirthday party?” Lily said with a chuckle. “Isn’t that a bit juvenile?”

“If by juvenile you mean really fun and a great excuse to dress up then yes, I suppose it is.” Under the table, Riddle squeezed (Y/N)’s hand, in warning or thankfulness she wasn’t sure. The three girls looked at eachother, flicking and fluttering their fans with precise motions.

A waiter brought a pot of tea to the table which he dutifully poured in everyone’s delicate tea cups. Another waiter brought a high stacked tower with tiny cakes and sandwiches. (Y/N) tried to cut down on her abrasiveness for the rest of the tea, not wanting to make Riddle uncomfortable. Although, to her it seemed the three other girls were doing a great job of that on their own. When they weren’t speaking to each other about him without his input, they chatted about things that had been happening in Dinah during the social season, then acted surprised when neither (Y/N) or Riddle could contribute to the conversation.

After a while, and two pots of tea, Riddle excused himself. A tense silence dropped over the table like a heavy curtain. The three girls continued casting knowing glances at each other, snapping and waving their fans.

(Y/N) spread her hands on the table. “Look, I know just enough about fan language to know you’re talking about me, but not enough to know what you’re saying. So if you have something you want to say you might as well come out and say it.”

“You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?” Rose said with a sniff.

“Among many other things.”

“We were just wondering,” Violet said smoothly. “About your pedigree. It’s unusual enough to have a girl attending an all boys school, so we surmised you must have a particular magical talent.”

“We all attend Lady Dormouse’s Finishing School, you see,” Lily said with a saccharine smile. “It’s a far more… elegant education.”

“Well, I don’t know about elegant,” (Y/N) said, pointedly ignoring Rose’s smirk when she said under her breath, “Clearly.” “But Night Raven College is a great place. Sure, it’s a minefield half the time and considering I can’t do any magic so half of the assignments are almost impossible, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve made amazing friends there, and, of course, I got to meet Riddle. That’s the best part.” (Y/N) smiled wistfully.

The girls across from her all dropped their jaws at once. “You can’t use magic?” Violet gasped.

“Surely you know a simple zephyr spell? Or can light a candle?” Lily asked.

“Nope, not a thing. Don’t have one drop of magic in my whole body.” At this point it almost felt like a mark of pride. And she was beginning to relish the shocked expressions people made.

Violet reached forward and gently touched the back of (Y/N)’s hand. “You poor thing,” She said, voice breaking. Rose had pushed herself as far back in her chair as she could, as if magiclessness was contagious. (Y/N) could practically see the gears turning in Lily’s head as she considered such a thing being possible.

(Y/N) looked out the window to the courtyard, trying to avoid Violet’s overly sympathetic gaze. She perked up when she saw a few uniformed staff members setting up small white arches in the grass. A flock of pink flamingos waddled on tall, thin legs around the fountain. One of the staff members gently cradled a small wooden box where a hedgehog poked its nose out.

“Hey, Riddle!” She called as Riddle walked back to their table. “Check it out, they’re setting up croquet! We should see if we can play.”

Riddle’s face lit up. “Really?” He asked, craning his neck to look out the window as the first round of players took their marks. He quickly looked back at his mother and schooled his face to a more serious expression. “That is, I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, I’d love a good game of croquet!” Rose said, clapping her hands. She stood, going over to Riddle and touching his shoulder in a way that made (Y/N) grit her teeth in annoyance. “I was the undisputed champion at Dormouse. You will play with us, won’t you, Riddle?”

The group exited to the courtyard, Mr. Rosehearts quickly arranging for a game with the attendants. The girls had huddled around the green, watching the previous game. Riddle was looking down at his feet, fiddling with his fingers, pulling at the skin around his nails.

“Hey!” (Y/N) said, slinging her arm around Riddle’s shoulders. “I am here to make sure you have fun, fake relationship or not. So come on, let’s have fun! Plus, I have no idea how to play this game.”

“Well,” Riddle said. “The first thing is to choose your flamingo mallet.” He effortlessly snatched a flamingo by the neck, turning it so he held the legs. The flamingo immediately went ramrod straight.

“That doesn't bother them or anything, right?” (Y/N) asked, looking dubiously at the remaining flamingos.

“Not at all. They’re specifically trained for this. Go on, try one.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) tried to replicate the quick movements Riddle had made when grabbing his flamingo. The bird she was aiming for dodged her hand. She grabbed again. Another miss. She heard the girls tittering with laughter. (Y/N) huffed, trying to snatch at the flamingo with both hands this time. The large bird squealed, flapping its large wings as (Y/N) wrestled it. The flamingo squawked and (Y/N) squawked back in defiance. Riddle quickly came to her rescue, grabbing the flamingo and performing the same practiced motion. The flamingo immediately went rigged, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the defiant glint in its eye.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) mumbled, plucking stray feathers out of her hair.

Riddle stifled a laugh behind his fist. “Not a problem. The rest of the game is pretty simple. You want to hit the hedgehog through the white pickets to the end of the lawn, then again on the way back. The fewest hits win.”

“Right, sure. Sounds easy enough.” When Riddle went to take his first hit, (Y/N) whispered harshly to her flamingo mallet, “Don’t mess this up for me.”

After the others had taken their turn, (Y/N) stepped up to the first hoop, her hedgehog rolled into a ball in front of her. She carefully angled her flamingo down, tapping the head against the small animal. ‘Just like mini-golf,’ She thought to herself and swung gently. She heard giggling from the spectators. She looked down, seeing her hedgehog in the exact same place. Only, no, it was about an inch to the left, away from where she had hit. She tapped her foot, swinging again, this time keeping her eye on the spiky ball. Yup, there, again, it rolled ever so slightly the other way.

“My ball is cheating,” (Y/N) said, pointing at the innocent-looking hedgehog.

“It’s a poor craftsman who blames their tools,” Dr. Rosehearts replied from the sidelines.

“I don’t think that applies here, but sure,” (Y/N) mumbled.

She squared her feet, tightening her grip on the flamingo’s legs. She tried a harder swing this time. It connected, sending the tiny hedgehog tumbling. Before (Y/N) could celebrate her victory, the animal swung out in a large arc away from the pickets, slowing to a stop right by Dr. Rosehearts’ feet. (Y/N) scowled, going over to stand by Riddle’s parents while the rest of the group took their turns for the second round.

“You know,” Dr. Rosehearts said softly to (Y/N) when Mr. Rosehearts walked off to get some tea. “Lily’s father is a minister in parliament. She’s an especially accomplished pianist and frequently has requests from the royal theater company to play.”

“MmHmm,” (Y/N) hummed.

“Violet recently won first place in a national equestrian show jumping competition. Her father is a colleague of mine, an orthopedic surgeon, and her mother is a most accomplished florist.”

“Neat.”

“Rose is an absolute gem, of course. Extremely high marks with practical magic, and her embroidery has been displayed as far as the Sunshine Lands. She’s also wonderfully organized and an exemplary hostess. I can see her managing a fine house one day.”

“Maybe, but Rose Rosehearts is kind of clunky, don’t you think? Or redundant? One of those.”

Dr. Roshearts sniffed. “She also has a firm grasp on language and elegance.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something she knew she would probably regret when the referee called for her turn. Dr. Rosehearts inclined her head and took a step back, giving (Y/N) room to swing.

“Alright,” (Y/N) said softly to the ball and mallet. “The arch this time.”

She aimed, taking in a deep breath as she swung. She looked around the green, not seeing her hedgehog rolling towards or away. It also wasn’t stuck in its place at her feet. Suddenly, the flamingo began to writhe in her hands, flapping its large wings to bat fiercely at her face. She coughed on feathers, trying to hold the distressed animal as far away as possible. Peaking out from one eye, she saw the hedgehog clinging to the flamingo’s neck, climbing up and down while the bird desperately tried to escape its tiny claws. (Y/N) shook the bird, reaching out to try and dislodge the hedgehog. That only seemed to make it worse as both animals began to panic. The flamingo kicked out causing (Y/N) to drop it. With an unholy squawk, it leapt out of her hands, flapping and dancing, colliding right into the gawking Dr. Rosehearts. The red-haired woman shrieked, several hotel attendants coming to her rescue, trying to grab the flamingo. (Y/N) couldn't help but notice Mr. Rosehearts watching the whole spectacle with fascination from the tea cart.

As the attendants apologized profusely to a fuming Dr. Rosehearts, (Y/N) made her way over to Riddle and the three gasping girls. “Well,” She said. “I don’t think I’m very good at this game.”

~~~

When they got back to the townhouse, (Y/N) had another round of apologizing to Riddle.

“I really didn’t mean for that to happen,” She said. She didn’t say she felt somewhat satisfied to see Dr. Rosehearts in distress, plucking stray feathers out of her hair and clothes the whole ride home. “I don’t know what I was doing wrong. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much.”

“I know it’s not your fault,” Riddle said, pulling off his tie. (Y/N) was sitting on the bed in his room as he watched her in the mirror on his bureau. “The hotel should have vetted their animals better.”

(Y/N) bit her lip. She gave a mirthless laugh. “Our plan isn't going very well, is it?” Riddle faltered, dropping his tie. He turned around to look at (Y/N). Her mouth was screwed up in a tight frown, her eyes misty, and she clutched the duvet tightly. “Sorry. I really wanted to make you look good. I wanted to try and seem like the perfect girlfriend, but I just kind of made everything worse. I wanted to show you that I-” She suddenly cut herself off, looking up and meeting Riddle’s eyes. Her face grew hot and she looked away. “Sorry, don’t listen to me, I’m rambling.”

More than anything, Riddle wanted to ask her what she was going to say. More than anything, he wanted to say something back, something that had been stuck in his mind well before he asked for her help in their plot. Something that made his heart speed up with her every kind word and action, that made him feel pleasantly light-headed whenever they were close, that caused his chest to fill with pride as she worked tirelessly to defend him during the trip. But his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He could still feel the iron-hot glare from his mother on the carriage ride back from the hotel. And, beneath it all, a simmering fear that their ploy was really just a ploy, that (Y/N) was just an exceptionally good actor, that there was no way she could feel the same way about him that he was realizing he felt about her.

He tapped his foot, coming over to sit next to (Y/N) on his bed. “There’s a ball tomorrow night,” He said, not looking at her. “Mother, Father, and I are invited. Mother… asked if you would be alright remaining at home.”

“Oh,” She said, and Riddle tried not to flinch back at her tone of voice. “No, yeah, I get it. Hey, I don’t even have anything to wear. So, yeah, it’s fine.”

“It’s not,” Riddle said, his harshness even startling himself. He cleared his throat, starting again. “It’s unfair to you. I shouldn’t have dragged you all the way out here. This whole thing was a bad idea to begin with.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) said again, another fractured syllable. She stood. “Well, yeah, fine. I guess the idea of us being together is a bad idea.”

Riddle felt a jolt in his chest. “No, wait, (Y/N), that’s not what I-”

“No, I get it. Why would someone like you want to be with someone like me in the first place? You’ve got a plan all figured out, right? NRC then internships then becoming a world famous doctor. And what do I have to offer you? I can’t do magic, I don’t have any family, I definitely don’t have any money, I have no idea what I’m even going to do over the summer break. And it’s not like I fit in with your world, anyway. Not just Twisted Wonderland, but the whole life you want for yourself. It’s fine, I get it.” She stood, pacing, hot and angry tears pricking her eyes. She took a deep, rattling breath to steady herself before turning to Riddle face to face. “I won’t get in your way anymore. But I do want to say that you deserve better than how you’ve been treated. You’re not your mother. You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are by yourself, not some mold other people try to put you in. You’ve worked so hard these past few months to be a better person and I- I just hope you find someone who recognizes that.” Without another word, (Y/N) rushed out of the room. She nearly collided with Dr. Rosehearts in the hall before muttering an “excuse me” before throwing herself in her room, locking the door.

Dr. Rosehearts lifted her chin, walking the few steps forward to Riddle’s room. She didn’t bother knocking and just stepped inside. Riddle was sitting on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands.

“I’m glad you’ve come to see reason, Riddle,” She vaguely praised. Riddle looked up at her with red rimmed eyes, checks flushed. “We’ll leave for your suit fitting in the morning. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, Mother,” Riddle mumbled. The sound of his door clicking shut ricocheted around his ears.

~~~

“I messed up,” (Y/N) said. “I really messed this whole thing up.”

It was the next day. She’d barely slept the night before, not bothering to go down to dinner last night or breakfast this morning. Eventually, she heard the front door open and close, watching Riddle and Dr. Rosehearts board a carriage to go out. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and called Cater.

“I mean,” He said. “It’s not the best, that’s for sure.”

(Y/N) had called Cater after a moment of desperation, eager for someone to talk to and express her frustrations. She trusted Cater enough to know he wouldn’t immediately run off and tell everyone about the plan and would be patient enough to listen to her vent. He had also lent a sympathetic ear in the past when she had gotten overwhelmed by the strangeness of her new world and missing her old one. She could practically see him twist a lock of hair around his finger as he talked to her. “But it’s not all your fault. Riddle could have stepped in to help, you know.”

“He’s just… under a lot of pressure here,” She said. “I guess I had this idea in my head of what it would be like. But, man, do I hate his mom.”

“We all do, sweetheart.”

“I feel like I kind of abandoned him, though. But he basically disinvited me from my last night here so how am I supposed to feel?”

“Hmm. Do you know where the party is supposed to be tonight?”

“At Rose’s place, bleh.”

“Well, you could always crash it.”

(Y/N) sat up. “Crash? I can’t do that, I’ve embarrassed him enough already.”

Cater huffed in frustration. “Honestly, you’re both so blind I don’t know how you stand it.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you said the reason you went there in the first place was to help Riddle.”

“I did - I am - but-”

“And what? You’re just going to let one bad game of croquet take that from you?”

“It wasn’t just that game, I-”

“And we both know Riddle’s blind spots. Sure, he’s been better about all that rule stuff and chilling out here at school, but being back in the middle of all his trauma is different, you know?”

“I - You know what? You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right, I usually am.”

“Riddle acts like he’s in charge all the time, I forget that we’re practically the same age. And everyone needs help, even when they’re too stubborn to admit it.”

“Yes, exactly! Stubborn is practically Riddle’s middle name!”

“Which means,” (Y/N) stood. “I’ve got to be stubborn back! If Riddle can’t ask for help then I need to be a good girlfriend and recognize he needs it and do my part!”

(Y/N) could feel Cater’s smirk in his next words. “Ooh, his girlfriend, huh? I thought you were just pretending?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Thanks, Cater. I’ve got to go get ready. I have a party to crash!”

“I’m going to need every detail when you get back!”

(Y/N) quickly hung up, dialing another number. “Hi, Vil? It’s (Y/N). I have a really big favor to ask.”

~~~

Riddle stared into his flute of sparkling wine, watching the few remaining bubbles rise and pop. It was flat by now and he hadn’t taken a single sip. The last rays of sunlight glowed gently against the surrounding townhouses that Riddle could see out the large bay windows of the ballroom. Couples twirled together along the floor to the elegant music from a string band. A long table was precisely set with way too much food, even given the substantial size of the party. His father mingled across the room with several other gentlemen from his club, doing his best to blend into the curtains. Riddle stood dutifully next to his mother who was speaking to Rose’s mother. Rose herself hovered next to him. He floated in and out of their conversation, only picking up about every fourth word. He wore a dark red velvet coat with a tight white starched collar that he kept tugging at to keep from strangling him.

“And then,” Rose was saying. “Betty walks in with a yellow checkered parasol! Can you imagine? For an autumn leaf viewing picnic? Honestly, I’m surprised she had the nerve to stay around for as long as she did with that sort of faux pa.”

“MmHm,” Riddle replied, swirling his glass causing a few errant bubbles to meander to the surface.

“Really, the only thing that might have been more embarrassing is if she brought a chestnut tart! Oh, are you alright, Riddle?”

Riddle coughed, clearing his throat as his face turned red. “Yes, fine, just remembering something unpleasant.”

“Well, I’m not sure how you could think of anything unpleasant with me around,” She said, clutching his arm to pull him closer to her, batting her eyes. Her eyelashes were so long Riddle had a single terrifying impression of spider legs.

Riddle cleared his throat again, more uncomfortable this time. “Yes, I can’t imagine.”

Rose pouted and opened her mouth to say something else only to be interrupted by the round of gasps and murmurs that swelled from around the room. At the top of the grand staircase leading down to the ballroom, a footman was taking a dark traveling cloak from a newcomer. The cloak fell away to reveal the elaborate dress underneath it. The bodice was a rich crimson red with puffed sleeves at the shoulders, leading down to illusion sheer sleeves with tiny intricate beading twinkling down to the tight clasps at the wrists. The skirt bloomed out from the waist, layers upon layers of fabric resembling a large upside down rose. The red from the top continued down the skirt in an almost dripping effect, the rose petals turning white at the bottom as if they were being painted. The rose parted just at the knees to allow the wearer more freedom of movement, revealing sheer stockings with the same bead work.

Riddle shoved his glass into Rose’s hands, ignoring her shocked look. He strode forward, cutting through the crowd. As the new figure descended the stairs, he met her, extending his hand to take hers.

“Hi,” (Y/N) said, smiling gently at him. “I’m not too late, am I?”

“No,” Riddle breathed. “You’re here just in time.”

“Excuse me!” They both turned to see Rose and her mother coming over, frustration on Rose’s face and confusion on her mother’s.

“I’m sorry,” Rose’s mother said, eyes darting to (Y/N)’s and Riddle’s held hand. “This is a closed party.”

“She’s with me,” Riddle quickly said. He saw his mother furrow her brow and press her lips together. He continued, meeting her gaze. “This is (Y/N), my girlfriend. She’s my guest.”

There was another small round of exclamations around the room. Rose crossed her arms while her mother blinked in confusion. “Oh, well, then please, by all means, welcome.”

(Y/N) bobbed a curtsy, “Thank you.”

“Would you like to dance?” Riddle asked.

(Y/N) smiled and Riddle felt like his heart would explode. “I’d love to.” He led her to the dance floor. The band, which had paused at her entrance, started up again with a waltz.“I should warn you,” (Y/N) whispered to him as they took their place. “I have no idea how to do any of this.”

“That’s alright. Just follow my lead.”

“Riddle, I’d follow you through the Land of Ghosts and back if you asked me to.” Riddle tripped over his own feet, (Y/N) catching him in a spin and laughing.

“I like your dress,” Riddle said, trying to regain his composure. “I didn’t see it before.”

“Thanks, it’s a loner. I have friends in high places. Vil, I mean Vil.”

Spectators watched the couple in a not at all elegant dance across the floor. “Oh, Victoria,” Another socialite's mother said, coming up to her. “You must be so proud. She seems like such a lovely girl. And Riddle looks so happy!”

“Indeed,” Dr. Rosehearts replied with a steely stare at the couple. She noticed the flush on Riddle’s cheeks, his eyes closed as he laughed at something (Y/N) had said. (Y/N) took a wrong step back, bumping into another couple dancing behind them. She watched them apologize, (Y/N) saying something to the other couple that made them laugh and wave a pleasant goodbye. Dr. Rosehearts ground her teeth, nose screwing up in frustration.

The song ended and Riddle and (Y/N) exited the dance floor. They’re faces were both flushed, glowing underneath the chandelier lights. (Y/N) felt her heart flutter pleasantly as she watched Riddle, a rare genuine smile across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. She could always tell when it was a sincere smile whenever a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows leaning to his left eye. She wondered what it meant that she had studied his face so intently to notice that.

Dr. Rosehearts interrupted the conversations happening around her by walking away, striding with her head held high to Riddle and (Y/N). (Y/N) noticed her first, taking a side step closer to Riddle and meeting the older woman’s stare with unabashed defiance. Dr. Rosehearts ground her teeth again.

“Riddle,” Dr. Rosehearts said. Riddle jumped, just now noticing his mother’s presence. His body immediately stiffened, shoulders going back to make a conscious effort to stand straighter. “Lewis and Carol were looking for you.” She waved her hand over to the other side of the ballroom. “I thought I might have a chat with (Y/N).”

Riddle started to stutter a response before (Y/N) laid a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” She said. “Go on, I’ll catch up with you later.” Riddle looked between the two women, eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, before nodding hesitantly and going over to see his old middle school classmates.

(Y/N) plucked a glass of cider from a passing waiter. She wondered briefly what the drinking laws were here.

“Well,” Dr. Rosehearts said, clasping her hands in front of her. “You certainly know how to make an entrance to an event you weren’t invited to.”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” (Y/N) said, swirling her glass. “I’m Riddle’s plus one. He wanted me here.”

“Yes, I suppose it is very kind of him to humor you.”

“Well, someone in your family needs to have a sense of humor, right?”

“Hmph. Riddle has a plan, you know. He can’t be distracted by frivolities.”

“You have a plan, you mean. Riddle can do whatever he wants. He’s exceedingly capable, smart, and an amazing mage.”

“Thanks to my careful tutelage.”

“Despite your ‘careful tutelage’ I’d say.”

Dr. Rosehearts eyes flared. “You know nothing about my relationship with my son. My son.”

“Oh, I know plenty.”

“And I know my son. Believe me, your relationship, or whatever you want to call this, is just some passing fancy. He’ll get over it soon and come back to me with his senses intact.”

“At least my relationship with him didn’t lead to his Overblot.”

There was a snapping sound, a shatter of glass, and a gasp from across the ballroom. Riddle whirled around. His mother stood over (Y/N), her hand raised. (Y/N) clutched her cheek, already turning red from Dr. Rosehearts’ slap.

“How dare you?” She shouted, now drawing every eye around the room. “My Riddle was perfectly fine until the moment you showed up at that school. He was obedient until you started influencing him!”

“And that’s all that matters, right? That he is obedient to you. That he does whatever you say. He’s not your doll for you to play with, he’s a living breathing amazing person you just refuse to recognize has his own thoughts and life outside of you!”

“I won’t take criticism from some magicless interloper who cavorts with fae and meddles with every aspect of a world she doesn't understand!”

“Well, that’s just the beginning of your issues, isn’t it? You’re so stuck in your own head you refuse to recognize when you’re in the wrong and actively hurting the people around you!”

Dr. Rosehearts took in a sharp inhale, raising her hand again.

“Mother!” Both women turned to see Riddle rushing over to them.

(Y/N) immediately blanched. “Riddle, I’m sorry, I-”

“Riddle!” Dr. Rosehearts cut her off, jabbing a finger at (Y/N). “Control this wretched girl!”

“I will do no such thing,” Riddle said defiantly, putting himself between his mother and (Y/N). He turned to her, lowering his voice. “Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

He gave a decisive nod and turned back to Dr. Rosehearts. “Mother, you need to apologize.”

Dr. Rosehearts gaped at him. “Me? Apologize to her?”

“You’ve been nothing but hateful since (Y/N)’s arrived. She’s our guest and someone extremely important to me. You could at least have the common courtesy to be polite.”

Dr. Rosehearts’ face was cherry red. “How dare you speak to me like this! I’m your mother!”

“And nothing she said was untrue!” Dr. Rosehearts flinched back. “All my life, all I’ve wanted was to please you, to make you proud of me. I worked so, so hard. It crushed me, it destroyed me, that I couldn’t meet your impossible expectations! And I just thought that was how the world was, set in rigid rules, and anyone who couldn’t follow every last one was a bad person. I ruined friendships, I ruined myself, I almost ruined everything when I Overblot!” Another round of gasps rang from around the room. (Y/N) slipped her hand into his, squeezing in reassurance. He squeezed back, soldiering on. “I’m not a son to you, I’m a project! I’m some doll you parade around and pose however you want without any actual care for the damage you might do! (Y/N) has shown me I can be a better person, that I can be who I actually want to be! Except I have no idea who that person is because you’ve broken me into your specific mold for so long. She’s stayed by me, my friends have stayed by me, no matter what. For the first time in my life I feel content with myself, like I can actually breathe. And you act like that’s a bad thing.” Riddle was breathing hard, hot tears starting to spill from eyes. “Well, I’m done. I’m done trying to please you. I’ll never be good enough for you. And that’s fine. I don’t want to be. Now I just want to be good enough for myself. Let’s go, (Y/N).” Still holding hands, the two swept from the ballroom, the party goers parting for them like the Red Sea.

Dr. Rosehearts’ face was red with rage, eyes darting around the room from each pitying, concerned, and judging face of the attendants to her son’s retreating back. She was breathing hard, head fuzzy, vision going blurry around the edges. Stepping forward, she slid her hairpin from her perfectly maintained bun, a magestone embedded at one end. She took a solid step forward, pointing it at Riddle. “Riddle-!”

“Victoria!” She froze at the sudden exclamation. She turned, seeing Mr. Rosehearts staring steadfastly at her. “That’s enough.”

She stopped, looking down at her hand, at her wand, at what she was about to do. She gasped, dropping the wand so it clattered against the marble flooring. The sound echoed in her ears.

~~~

It was starting to rain outside. Riddle shrugged off his jacket, holding it above the two of them to huddle beneath it.

“I don’t think we would be able to take the carriage back,” He said. “To be honest, I’m not sure if I want to go back to the townhouse anyway.”

“No problem,” (Y/N) said, pulling her phone out of an invisible pocket. “Give me a second. Hi, Hornton? It’s (Y/N).” Minutes later, a private carriage from the Lorina Hotel was pulled alongside the cafe’s outside seating where Riddle and (Y/N) had taken up temporary shelter. “Friends in high places,” She said as they climbed inside.

The two were quiet as the carriage rumbled on. They sat next to each other on the bench seats. Riddle leaned his head on (Y/N)’s shoulder as she rubbed circles in the back of his hand. They exited soon after at the hotel, a doorman holding an umbrella over their heads as they rushed inside.

At the front desk, the concierge and manager were talking in animated whispers, jolting up to paste on bright smiles as the two approached the desk. “Hello!” The manager said, a little too enthusiastically. “Checking in under Draconia?”

“Yup, that’s us,” (Y/N) said, holding Riddle close. “Two rooms, please.”

“Ah, well, of course, you see,” The manager stuttered. (Y/N) suspected they didn’t often get calls from foreign royalty as it was throwing the poor man off this game. “Unfortunately, as I mentioned to his majesty on the phone, we only have one room left available.”

“Oh. Well, if it’s a double that will work fine, too.”

The manager cringed. “It’s a single bed, Miss.”

“Ah.” (Y/N) said, head starting to spin. She tried to quickly problem solve in her head. Could she call Horton back and ask him to make reservations somewhere else? Or would that be rude? Just the thought of going back to the Rosehearts townhome made her skin crawl.

“It’s fine,” Riddle said. “We’ll take it.” The manager looked relieved as he handed over the keys. “I’ll need to make a phone call as well, to have our things brought here in the morning. Do you have anything we could use for the night?”

“Of course, sir! Please, take it with our compliments.”

They handed over two sets of monogrammed gray pajamas. A bellhop led them to the elevator, pushing the button to their floor.

“I guess you’re right,” Riddle said. “It does pay to have friends in high places.”

For some reason, that comment, along with the building stress of the night, broke the tight bundle of nerves (Y/N) had lodged in her chest. She started giggling, not being able to stop or catch her breath. Riddle soon followed, both of them almost doubled over with impractical laughter. They continued to their room, a patron from next door sticking his head out at the noise. Their laughter died down when they came into the room, both setting eyes on the single bed at the center.

“I’m going to take a shower,” (Y/N) said, pointing to the adjoining bathroom. Riddle just nodded, tearing is eyes from the bed and trying very hard to look anywhere else.

In the bathroom, (Y/N) peeled off her dress, feeling kind of bad about haphazardly throwing it over the towel rack to hang. She turned the water on to almost scalding, letting it rush over her in an attempt to beat the chill that had settled in her bones, only partially from the rain. After her shower, she changed into the provided pajamas. They were warm and soft against her skin. She hesitated before exiting the bathroom.

Riddle jumped when she came out, and she wondered if she should have knocked first. She saw he had pulled the duvet and one of the massive pillows off the bed, laying them out on the floor. “You can take the bed tonight,” He said. “I’ll sleep here.” Without waiting for her protest, Riddle went into the bathroom locking it behind him. She soon heard the sound of rushing water from the shower.

‘Well, that’s not very fair,’ She thought. She drug off the remaining blanket from the bed and the other pillow, creating her own spot on the opposite side on the floor. Riddle was the one who just had his whole world tossed around. It was only fair if he got the bed for the night. A few minutes later, Riddle left the bathroom in a cloud of steam. He was rubbing his hair with a towel. He looked confused at (Y/N) on the floor on her side of the bed.

“I’d say you can take the bed,” (Y/N) said. “But I know you’re too stubborn and chivalrous for that. So I’ll stay down here too. That way we’re even.”

“You don’t need to do that for me,” Riddle said.

“I want to.”

Riddle stared at her. (Y/N) could almost see the thoughts turning in his head. He nodded once, going over to his side of the bed and laying down on the improv sleeping mat. (Y/N) reached up and switched off the light. A soft glow from the street lamps came in through the window, the rain softly padding against the glass. (Y/N) could see Riddle through the space under the bed. He was staring straight up, hands clasped tightly against his stomach.

“Riddle-,” She started.

“I’m glad I said it. I think I’ve been wanting to say all of that for a long time now. And I don’t think I would have been able to if you weren’t there, if I didn’t know I had your support. So thank you.”

(Y/N) thought hard, turning his words over in her head. ‘Screw it,’ She thought. She got up, dragging her blanket and pillow with her. She went over to Riddle’s side of the floor/bed, dropping her stuff next to him and laying back down. She turned on her side to look at him, meeting his wide confused eyes.

“Riddle, I think I’m in love with you.” Riddle sputtered, choking on air, but now that she had started, (Y/N) knew she had to power through. “I mean, I’ve never really been in love with someone before, but I’m pretty sure that’s what this is. My feelings for you, I mean. It started off with just really admiring you. I know the beginning of the year was really tough and I can’t imagine what it was like to go through all of that. But ever since you’ve been working so hard, and I can see that, everyone can see that. You’re smart and brave and stubborn as hell, which I got to admit I kind of like. I love how I can tell when you get genuinely excited about something or that smug grin you get when you’re right about something. You’re a great house warden and a good friend. Not to mention you’re really cute. So, yeah. I just needed to say that. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I understand. Or you don’t want to give me an answer right now. I don’t mind waiting, if it’s for you.” She laid on her back, staring at the ceiling, heart thundering in her chest. The silence of the room was only broken by the soft pitter patter of the rain.

“(Y/N)?” Riddle said softly. (Y/N) turned on her side so the two of them were facing each other again. “You know I’m not good with talking about my feelings. I still have a hard time deciphering them myself, to be honest. But one thing I’m absolutely certain about is how I feel about you. I love you. I have to admit, I had ulterior motives when I asked you to come with me for this. I thought maybe it would be some sort of test run for an actual relationship, which now, saying it out loud, I realize how awful that sounds, and I’m sorry. I love how I feel around you, like I can be the greatest person in the world. I love how kind you are, how ready to jump into action, how ready you are to help no matter what. I love how steadfast and brave you are in what must be a terrifying situation, not knowing anything about your surroundings or having the same tools as all of us to combat it. And you’ve basically taken on raising Grim by yourself which I know can’t be easy with having that extra responsibility all of a sudden on top of everything else. I know I might not be the easiest person to be around. I’m stubborn, like you said, and I can get angry easily. Obviously my family is a complete mess. But, I hope, despite everything, you can still accept me for who I am and for who I want to be.”

“Riddle, I already said I love you. Of course I accept you. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Despite how flustered it made him, Riddle wouldn’t want to be pried out of each other’s arms as they fell asleep for anything in the world.

~~~

It was sunny the next morning, the rain from the night before lending a pleasant coolness to the air. Staff from the Rosehearts’ townhouse had dropped off Riddle and (Y/N)’s packed bags that morning and the newly formed couple was getting ready to head back to their starting point for the Magic Mirror to bring them back to school. (Y/N) tried to buy some fancy chocolates from the hotel for the boys back at NRC, but the manager and staff had shoved the boxes into her hands at no charge.

“Compliments to friends of the Draconia family!” He had said.

As they got ready to head out, they heard someone call from behind them, “Riddle!”

They turned around, seeing the Rosehearts’ carriage come down the street, Mr. Rosehearts leaning out of the window, waving. He jumped out as the carriage rolled to a stop, jogging over.

(Y/N) took a step in front of Riddle. “Do you want me to deal with it?” She asked.

“No, it’s fine,” He said. “I’ll only be a minute.” Riddle left his bags with (Y/N), who watched Mr. Rosehearts’ approach with a critical eye, and walked over to meet his father. “Father. I’ll be heading back to school soon. I don’t want to be late.”

“Right, of course, I won’t take up too much of your time.” He seemed nervous, not meeting his son’s eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize, Riddle.”

Riddle blinked. “Apologize?”

“Yes, and it’s a long time coming. I’m afraid I haven’t been a good father to you. I saw the kind of stress your mother put you under, how controlling it could be. And I ignored it. I should have been better for you, stood up for you more. You’re my son, Riddle, and I love you. But I haven’t acted like it for a long time. I hope, one day, we can start again and you can forgive me.”

“I-” Riddle was at a loss for words. “I can’t say it will be soon, but I appreciate you saying that. I hope you can understand.”

Mr. Rosehearts smiled wide and nodded. “Yes, of course. We’ll go on your time.”

Riddle looked back at the carriage. “Is Mother here?”

Mr. Rosehearts’ face dropped, looking away and rubbing the back of his head. “No, she’s still at home. We’re actually going to… spend some time apart for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s for the best. I’ll be out at the country estate if you need anything.” He winked and whispered conspiratorially. “To be honest, I’ve always wanted to get into ornithology. I hear there’s a rare variant of the jubjub bird in the area I’ve been dying to get a look at.”

The two separated, Mr. Rosehearts to his carriage and Riddle to (Y/N). “You okay?” She asked.

“Fine. I think things might be looking up, actually.”

She bumped him with her hip. “Well, you’ve got a super cool new girlfriend now, so I sure hope so.”

Riddle chuckled, linking their arms together. They stepped back through the portal to school, confident that no matter what trials and tribulations would come next, they would face them together.

#wafflefriesfics #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #fanfic #fake dating

217 notes · View notes