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bucky-fricking-barnes · 1 year ago

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Someplace Like Home

Title: Someplace Like Home

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: Canonical violence, minor injuries, minor blood, non-descriptive mentions of hospitals, mild language

Summary: Y/N owns a hostel in Croatia. When the very handsome Grant comes to work for her, she falls hard and fast for the new handyman.

A/N: This story takes place between Civil War and Infinity War, when Steve is on the run. There are a handful Croatian phrases/words used, which are translated at the end of this fic. Don’t ask me why all my Steve stories suddenly have foreign languages in them. As always, thanks for reading and supporting my writing in all the ways you do. Enjoy!

Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

Your morning starts off slow, like it always does, and after the handful of guests have finished breakfast and left to spend the rest of the day at the beach or in the mountains, you settle yourself behind the front counter and pull out your laptop. The dirty dishes can wait until later—Ana will be here in an hour, and she prefers doing the dishes over going over the books, so you have an unspoken deal that you’ll do the bookkeeping if she cleans up after meals.

You’re just opening up the software on your laptop when the front door opens. The bell above it jingles as a man steps in, bringing with him a warm gust of air. June has been unseasonably cool, but today is the warmest it’s been in weeks. You’ve kept most of the windows open all morning, even though it was still a bit chilly.

“Dobro jutro,” you greet. You carefully shift the laptop off to the side a few inches, being careful not to mess up the carefully arranged papers you’ve sorted out on the counter.

“Kako vam mogu pomoći?”

The man has a gray hiking backpack slung over his shoulder. He’s tall and blond, a dark blond that looks golden in the light from the outside but brown in the shadows. His thick beard and mustache are well-trimmed. You automatically open up the leatherbound reservation book and reach underneath the counter for a key.

“Dobro jutro. Uh, govorite li engleski?” asks the man. He smiles politely, and you smile back, nodding.

“Of course,” you answer. “How can I help you?”

His eyes move to the pen in your hand, already poised over the next open spot in the reservation book. “I’m not here for a room. I’m here about the opening for a handyman.”

Surprised, you close the book again and tuck it back under the counter where it belongs, along with the key you’d grabbed. No one has come about the open position since you’d posted it months ago in the local cafe. Not even a sign outside the hostel has helped.

“In that case, my name’s Y/N. I’m the owner here.”

“Grant,” he replies, his hand already held out for you to shake.

You oblige with another smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Grant. Can I ask how you found out about the position? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around town.”

He nods once. “I just moved here from Italy, and from Switzerland before that.”

“So you’re making your way through Europe, then?” you ask. You’re not entirely surprised—he looks rugged enough that he could handle a long backpacking trip or several months of solo travel, unlike some of the college students you normally have traipsing through your village.

“In a way,” he answers. “Truthfully, I’d like to settle down someplace, but it’s been a rough few years. I haven’t quite found the place that feels like home yet.”

Secretly, as you listen to him explain the various European cities in which he’s lived, you wish that he’ll come to feel at home here. Brdonik isn’t large enough to be on any maps, but it’s been your home for almost a decade now, and you can’t imagine a better place. The whole community bands together, and people look out for each other. There’s enough tourism from backpackers and small cruises that you’re not totally isolated, but you’re still far enough removed that your daily life isn’t saturated with commercialism and the big city nonsense you often hear about through your guests. You’d experienced it enough before coming to Croatia, and you don’t ever plan on going back to the life you’d had before you moved.

“To answer your question,”—Grant’s gentle continuation pulls you from your thoughts—“I saw a flier posted in the cafe down the street. I stopped there for lunch.”

“What did you order?” you ask. You prop an elbow up on the counter and level him with your gaze.

“Is that important?

“If you want this job it is. You can tell a lot about a person based on what they order at a restaurant.”

He smiles a little. “I got the turkey sandwich.”

You consider his choice for a moment before giving him a nod. “Simple, but respectable. A clear tourist choice, but I like it.”

“You can’t go wrong with a turkey sandwich,” he adds.

“It’s a classic!” You smile back at him and then come around the counter into the main part of the lobby. You grab your clipboard from its hook on the wall.

“Let me give you a tour,” you tell him. “I’ll point out some of the things that need fixing, and then you can tell me if you still think you’re a good fit.”

Grant agrees, and he walks beside you as you lead him through the hostel. You show him the currently unoccupied rooms, as well as the common areas, and you give him plenty of time to inspect the stalled projects and major fixes that he’d been in charge of. While he looks around, you watch him carefully. There’s something familiar about him, something you can’t quite put your finger on, but he doesn’t set off any alarm bells in your head like some of the previous candidates had. He’s respectful of the property and the few lingering guests you come across, and Grant is polite enough to open doors for you as you approach them. He speaks softly and clearly, and his sense of humor is well-timed. Somehow, despite his hulking frame and obvious strength, you feel safe around him.

Eventually, you lead him to your office. Grant takes the seat in front of your desk and you close the door behind him, then sit behind your desk and pull a pad of paper from the drawer. He’s almost too big for the chair you normally reserve for college-age backpackers looking for a few days of housekeeping work. He’s relaxed, though, and he rests both arms on the thin wooden armrests as you get out what you need. You sneak a glance at him as you sit upright again. His eyes move slowly and carefully over the framed photos and documents on the wall, taking in each one of them individually before he moves onto the next—your college diploma from NYU, a photo of you with your family the last time they came to visit, a certificate of operation from the local government. His backpack is leaning up against the front leg of the chair and his left leg, and you briefly wonder how he’s afforded to travel so much. The bag looks brand new, and high-tech, too. Is he a tech mogul of some kind? A grown-up trust fund kid? Did he steal it, or is he just really good with money?

“You’ll have to excuse me, I don’t have any questions prepared for you,” you tell him as you reach for a pen.

He nods and looks back at you. “You weren’t expecting me to walk in today, I understand.”

“Either way, I have to say that so far, I’m very impressed with you.” You glance up again and give him a polite smile, then look back down as you write his name and the date at the top of the page. “What did you say your last name was again?”

“Carter,” he says.

Nodding, you add that at the top and make your first bullet point.

“Grant Carter. Are you named after someone? That seems a pretty traditional name for a guy your age.” You immediately cringe at the question. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. You don’t have to answer that.”

Chuckling, Grant shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. My mother was a big fan of Ulysses S. Grant.”

“The 18th president?” you ask, grinning wide.

He nods and lets out another small laugh. “That’s the one.”

“He’s not normally up there on peoples’ lists of favorite presidents.”

“She had her reasons, I guess,” Grant shrugs.

You hum a little with a smile and look back down at your almost empty legal pad. You have a million questions that you want to ask, and more that you know you should, but you allow yourself to think for a moment before you look up again. Whatever you ask has to be the right mix of the two.

“You’ve lived in a lot of really impressive places,” you begin, and Grant nods in confirmation. “Why come here? There are plenty of larger cities with more job openings. Better paying job openings,” you add.

“You sell yourself short,” Grant easily replies. He sits forward a little, his elbows sliding closer to the ends of the armrests. “Your town is beautiful. It’s comfortable, and a bit secluded. I’m looking for something quieter.”

“A lot of people are, but we’re not often what they want in the long run. How long are you planning on staying?”

Grant stares at you for a long moment before he replies, “Until I’m needed elsewhere.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s a bit cryptic, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask for a clearer answer.”

“I plan on staying indefinitely, but if it changes, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

Not quite satisfied with his answer, you still scribble down the response and make a second point on the next line down.

“Do you have handyman experience?”

Grant shakes his head. “But I’m a quick learner and I’m stronger than I look. Whatever I don’t already know how to do, I’ll pick it up quickly if I can get the information from someone or somewhere.”

I highly doubt you’re stronger than you look, you think, forcing yourself to look down at the paper and write, rather than at him. You already look pretty damn strong.

“Do you have a previous employer I can contact? Or references?”

“I can have that information to you by the end of the day.”

You nod and keep writing, and you don’t look up as you say, “We don’t typically provide housing for employees, as we’re a small enough village that commute isn’t an issue, but given that you’re new to town, I’m going to assume that you don’t have a place to stay yet.”

“No ma’am, I don’t.”

“I can get you set up in a room here, if that’s alright with you. I won’t expect you to work outside of normal business hours, except in an emergency, but that’s the same even if you lived off-property,” you tell him, looking up. You don’t lift your pen, and it’s a little satisfying to see that Grant looks mildly surprised. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person who could be surprised by anything.

“You’re hiring me?” he asks.

“Should I not?”

He quickly recovers and shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “I was just surprised that you’re not waiting until after you’ve seen my references.”

“Are you a horrible person?”

“I don’t think so, no.

“Are you a terrible employee?” you ask, putting your pen down on the desk.

“I’m loyal to a fault.”

“Should I be concerned about criminal activity?”

Grant laughs. “I’m a model citizen, though I did steal a piece of cake when I was a kid.”

“I’ll be sure to inform the local authorities,” you tease, grinning. You slide the notepad onto your desk and stand, holding out your hand for him to shake. Grant obliges. “You’re hired, Mr. Carter. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your room so you can get settled in before your first day tomorrow.”

“I’d like that, thank you,” he replies.

“I won’t take the room out of your salary unless it prevents us from taking guests, but I don’t see that becoming an issue, except maybe in mid-July,” you tell him as you move around the desk to the door. “The handyman position pays 800 euros a month. You’ll be paid bi-weekly in check or cash, whichever your preference. We don’t have direct deposit here. If you need an account in town, there’s a bank down the road.”

“Cash is fine,” he says. He picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder before following you back out into the hallway, then out to the lobby. You make a pit stop at the front desk to grab a key before heading up the main staircase.

The private, single person rooms on the third floor are a little older, and you briefly worry as you climb the stairs if the beds will be able to hold Grant’s weight. You don’t use them as often now that you’ve finished transforming the old hotel into a hostel. There’s a thin coating of dust on the handrail and you make a mental note to give this floor a thorough cleaning tomorrow while he’s occupied, that way you won’t be intruding.

You lead Grant to the end of the hall, where the rooms are slightly larger and the windows overlook the ocean. While the view is great, most of your summer guests only fill the dorm-style rooms, so you’re fairly certain you won’t be missing out on any profit by giving him this room.

“Here we are,” you say, and you open the door before stepping aside so he can enter first.

Grant ducks through the doorway and flips the light switch, then looks around in silence. You wait in the hallway, holding your breath as he makes his inspection.

“This is nice,” he finally says, looking back at you. He drops his bag at the foot of the bed. “You’re sure it’s alright if I stay here?”

You wave one hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

Your phone chimes in your back pocket and you pull it out, quickly reading the notification. It’s only mildly urgent, but you can feel Grant trying to look occupied as he waits for you to leave, so you look up and gesture back towards the stairs with your phone.

“I’ve gotta take care of something, but you’re in luck. Every Thursday night we host a group dinner for the guests. The food is all cooked by a chef from a local restaurant in an attempt to promote the local cuisine, so you’re welcome to join us, or I can recommend some other restaurants in the area, if you want to explore a little bit more. We eat at seven.”

Nodding, Grant smiles and crosses the room to pull the key from where you’d left it in the lock. “I’ll see you at seven. It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Grant. Welcome aboard!” You smile once more, then turn and head back down the hall. His door closes as you reach the top of the stairs, and suddenly, you can’t wait for dinnertime.

You occupy yourself for the majority of the day by compiling a list of projects for Grant, as well as contacting the references he sends you using the email address on the hostel’s website. He gets glowing reviews from each and every person on the list, though they all seem a little confused when you first ask about him.

Grant comes down to the first floor at five minutes to seven, and you’re just greeting the first small group of guests to arrive back from their excursions when he steps down from the bottom step. You glance over and give him a quick, acknowledging smile before turning back to the guests.

“Dobor dan! How was your time at the beach?” you ask. They reply politely in a mix of English and their own native language. You vaguely recognize it as French. You’re about to tell them in English about the dinner schedule, hoping that they’ll understand at least partially, but Grant begins talking in rapid-fire French before you even open your mouth.

It takes everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping straight through the floor. None of Grant’s references had mentioned he was bilingual, and neither did he. It feels like it should’ve been obvious, however, given that every single person he��d talked to had mentioned his incredible intelligence and ability to pick up skills quicker than anybody they knew.

Still, you watch in stunned silence from behind the front desk and Grant chatters with the guests. He leads them from the lobby and into the adjoining sitting area, where you hear them sit down and continue to talk. Someone laughs, and then Grant does, too. It’s a deep, mellow baritone, and you catch yourself grinning before you manage to stifle it.

When the next group of guests walk in, you guide them into the sitting room with the others. Grant catches your eye as you turn the corner, and when he smiles, you swear that your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s your employee, you chide yourself, and you turn your back on the group on the premise of prepping a plate of cookies for the coffee table.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” you say as you set the plate in the center of the group. Grant translates for you, first in French, and then in a language that sounds almost Spanish, but you know enough of that to know that it’s something different. All the guests nod in agreement.

You settle against one of the heavy wood bookshelves and watch quietly as Grant chats with the guests, switching fluidly between languages whenever he turns to a new person. It’s amazing, so you simply stay silent as you listen to the flurry of foreign words in the sitting room. You’ve never heard the pre-dinner conversation so lively. It brings a new warmth to the hostel, and you can’t help but smile as you watch the guests come alive, even though they’re exhausted.

“Dinner is ready!” Ana calls. She pokes her head in the door, and she smiles wide when she sees the guests talking excitedly. Every seat is taken. When she turns to look at you, you only grin.

“What’s going on?” she asks, stepping closer so she can lower her voice. “Who is that?”

You lean in, whispering, “His name is Grant. He’s the new handyman, and apparently, he speaks multiple languages.”

“Apparently?”

“I didn’t know when I hired him! This,” you gesture with one hand towards the circle of guests, who have started to rise now that Grant has passed along the message about dinner, “was a surprise to me, too. He just started talking to them on his own. I didn’t ask him to do anything.”

Ana raises her eyebrows, giving you a meaningful look. Before you can scold her for trying to meddle in your love life, she slips away and Grant appears at your side.

“Who is that?” he asks.

Goosebumps erupt on your arms at the sound of his deep voice so close to your ear. He’s leaned down so you can hear him clearly, and though he’s not quite in your space, he’s still close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. It should feel stifling in the early summer heat, but it’s comforting, and you turn towards him with a bright smile.

“Ana. She’s the manager when I’m not here. I’ll introduce you later. How come you never told me you spoke all those languages?” you ask.

Grant just smiles back at you. “You never asked.”

“I’ll make sure to add that to my list of questions for the next time I have to hire someone.” You gesture at the line of guests filtering through the doorway to the hostel’s dining room. “We should eat. Most of the guests have spent all day hiking or at the beach, and they’ll be hungry. Our local chefs are all amazing, so the food always goes quickly.”

“What’s on the menu?” Grant asks. He starts to walk and you fall into step beside him, noting how he angles himself sideways and stoops through the doorway so that you’re not squashed into the doorframe. It’s a miracle he doesn’t hit his head on any of the lowered ceilings or hanging decor in the building.

I’ll have to warn him about the lights in the rooms on the second floor, you note.

“Punjene paprike. Stuffed peppers,” you translate. You pause and watch as the guests choose their seats, silently making sure there are enough chairs. When it’s clear you’ve done the math correctly, you look over at Grant. “How many languages do you speak?”

He shrugs and surveys the long table filled with food. People are already piling their plates high and chattering with their friends and family, and the room is filled with amicable noise. The sun coming in from the windows is golden. The windows face south, which is one of the many reasons why you’d first purchased the building. It needs a lot of work, and it always has, but the view of the ocean from the dining room windows, along with the way the sun illuminates the whole room, helps make all the work worth it.

“This place is beautiful,” says Grant, quietly. “You’ve done well.”

You look over at him, surprised at the praise. It warms you from the inside out, and you smile when he meets your eyes. “Thank you. I’ve worked hard.”

He nods, and after a moment, he gestures towards the table. There are two empty seats beside each other, near the far end of the room. Ana has taken the seat across from them and she’s already begun to eat.

You follow Grant across the dining room, and you try not to act surprised when he pulls out the chair and helps you sit before taking the spot beside yours. Ana catches your eye as you reach for a dish, but you look away. You can’t risk having her embarrass you in front of the guests.

Or Grant, the cheeky little voice in your brain adds, but you quickly push the thought to the far reaches of your brain. Showing your hand—and your burgeoning feelings for Grant—right now is something you need even less.

“So, you’re from New York?” he asks.

You look up from where you’re pulling a napkin into your lap. “What?”

“Your degree. It’s from NYU, so I’m assuming that you’re from the States.”

Nodding, you allow him to serve one of the peppers onto your plate, and you heap an extra serving of rice onto the side of your plate before handing him the bowl. You don’t want to assume he likes anything, especially since he ordered one of the most American things on the menu at the cafe.

“I am. I grew up in Manhattan, and I decided to stay there for college. Once I got my degree in hospitality, I decided it was time I see more of the world,” you tell him.

“Why Croatia?” Grant asks.

You shrug and pick up your fork. “Honestly? I don’t know why. I didn’t even mean to come here. I ended up on the wrong train and decided to stick it out. I figured it would be a fun experience either way, but I fell in love with it here. On my second day here, I saw that this building was up for sale and I had just enough money in my savings to buy it. It was a big risk, but I think that it was worth it.”

He looks around the room, listening to the conversations for a few moments before he smiles. “I think so, too.”

“Where are you from?” you ask. “You’re clearly American.”

Grant laughs at that, nodding. “I grew up in Brooklyn. When I was old enough, I served in the army for a few years, and since then I’ve just been… traveling.”

The army thing makes sense, and you file that information away for later. The two of you start to eat, exchanging a few more words throughout the meal. Grant offers to help Ana with the dishes. She’s giddy at the proposal, so you let them head into the kitchen as you help guests arrange their plans for the next day. You find yourself straining to listen for the sound of his voice during the quiet moments, however, but by the time the dishes are finished, Grant tells you that he’s exhausted and he wants to get a good night’s rest before his first day on the job. You wish him goodnight from the front desk, then wait for Ana to appear and barrage you with a million questions about the new handyman.

You learn quickly that there’s even more to Grant than meets the eye. He’d been telling the truth in his interview—he’s deceptively strong, and he really does learn quicker than anyone you’ve ever met. His Croatian improves leaps and bounds in the first few months at the hostel. By the end of the summer, he’s practically fluent, even if he does bumble through some of the more complicated phrases with a faint blush on his cheeks.

The longstanding projects for the hostel are all completed by the end of August, leaving you scrambling to keep Grant busy. When you can’t find anything to do, however, he busies himself by exploring the far reaches of the island, speaking with the guests in a myriad of languages, and keeping you company in the lobby or in your office. His presence, which had once seemed much too large for the old brick building, has settled. He seems at home in the armchair you buy for the corner of your office, and he’s become a fixture in the doorway of the lobby, where he likes to stand and watch traffic pass by.

It’s on one of the hottest days of the year that you first get a glimpse behind Grant’s ever-friendly facade. You’re behind the desk, going through the reservations for the upcoming week, when there’s a shout from outside. The front door to the hostel is propped open in an attempt to let in a breeze, and Grant has taken up residence in his normal spot. You’ve only just processed the shout when there’s an explosion. The floor beneath you shakes and shudders, and you grip the edge of the desk in an attempt to keep upright.

Grant whirls around and fixes his eyes on you. He’s scanning you, up and down, searching for any sign of injury.

“Are you okay?” he asks. You nod, swallowing thickly, and peer over his shoulder. There’s no sign of what’s happened outside, but you can hear screaming and shouting. There’s a gunshot and you flinch.

“Stay here, and stay hidden,” says Grant, and you know in an instant that it’s an order. “Stay quiet and don’t let anyone in. Okay?”

Nodding again, you drop to a crouch, then curl up on the floor with your back against the desk. You clutch your phone in one hand and listen as Grant closes, then locks the door. When he doesn’t appear behind the desk, you crawl over to the side and look out into the small lobby. He’s gone.

Your arms shake beneath you and you have to fall back against the desk for support before you fall flat on your face. Squeezing your eyes shut, you listen to the commotion outside. There are no more explosions, but you hear more screams and shouts, followed by a crash and gunshots. Your heart pounds in your chest as the noise gets closer and closer. You know that Grant was in the army, so he must have military training, but the thought of him outside—the thought of him in danger—makes you want to puke.

There’s a thud against the front door and you flinch. Your body tenses and you curl up in the fetal position, trying to maintain your breathing. It doesn’t work, however, and when there’s another bang, you scream.

“Molim! Molim, let me in!”

You look around the edge of the desk again. It’s a woman on the other side, and the desperation in her voice propels you to your feet and into the lobby without a second thought. You twist the lock and yank open the door.

A slim woman dressed entirely in black grins at you. Her eyes are a shocking shade of electric blue and her teeth are bright white—a stark contrast against the mask that hides the rest of her features.

“Sorry, dragi,” she says, and you gasp when she reveals the gun in her left hand. With the other, she reaches out and grabs you. “You’re coming with me.”

“No!” You fight against the woman’s grip, and when you lift your eyes to search for help from someone else, you can’t believe what you’re seeing.

Grant is lifting a car off someone. He lifts the car and tosses it aside with a heave and a grunt, and then he’s fighting someone hand-to-hand. The man in black is clearly trained because he gets in a few hits, but Grant never stays down for long. He’s slowly forcing the man back down the street, towards the beach, instead of towards the line of shops that’s on the other side of the hostel.

There’s a blast as another explosive goes off, this time in a restaurant diagonal from your front door. Stone and rubble flies in every direction. The street is empty of people, thankfully, except for the people Grant is fighting. Somewhere down the street, a car alarm is going off, and the light from the harsh midday sun is almost blinding. Your ears are ringing from the blast and the alarm. You think you scream at some point, but you’re not sure.

The man that Grant has been fighting has been thrown back by the blast, but Grant is still standing, as if he’s anchored onto the pavement. There’s a metal car door in his hand. He’s gripping onto a piece of the leather interior, and the red painted finish on the outside has been battered by the flying debris. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath.

The woman drags you out of the hostel and onto the street. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and places the gun against the side of your head. You stop struggling then, and your breath catches in your throat as your heart begins to pound even harder. Your vision is going blurry along the edges, but not enough to miss the way Grant’s jaw clenches when he catches sight of you.

“Captain Rogers!” the woman shouts.

He throws a second man off of him and turns fully towards you and the woman. “Let her go!”

In your ear, the woman chuckles. It’s low and dark, and full of malice, and you shiver. You close your eyes and pray that it’s all just a bad dream.

“Not until you come with us,” the woman replies.

“Leave her and the others out of this.”

When you open your eyes, Grant is looking past you at the woman. The light reflects in his deep blue eyes, and it’s then that you realize what he’s been hiding from you.

How did I miss it before?

“Steve Rogers,” you choke.

He looks at you again. “Y/N…”

“You’re Steve Rogers.”

There’s a pause as he watches you with clear regret, and then the woman laughs, shocking you out of your revelation.

“How precious!” she exclaims. “Your little boss had no clue who you were?”

“Let. Her. Go.” Steve takes a step forward and the woman’s grip on you tightens. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes you when she pushes the gun harder against your head, making you crane your neck to one side.

Two new men in black come up behind Steve. He turns his head slightly, listening to their approach, but he doesn’t move. You can tell that he’s calculating what to do next.

There’s a moment of clarity as you watch them launch themselves at him. Steve fights like he was born for it—and maybe he was, you rationalize—and as he easily overcomes them both, you have a revelation that’s nothing short of a rock at the pit of your stomach.

Steve has to get out of this alive. So many people count on him, and they always have. Though you know that there are a lot of people all over the world who consider him a criminal, you also know that there are a lot of people just like you that think Steve deserves a place of honor for all that he’s done and all the sacrifices he’s made.

The safety on the woman’s gun clicks off and Steve freezes. The two men take advantage of that, and they grab his arms, pulling them tightly behind his back and pushing him to his knees. He falls with a grunt. One of the men grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back until he’s looking at you and the woman from his place on the ground. He doesn’t fight back.

“Steve,” you plead. “You have to fight. You can’t let them take you.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he replies. He shifts his gaze to the woman without moving his head. “If I go with you, you’ll let her go?”

“You have my word.”

Heat swells in your eyes and you know that you’re about to cry. “No! Don’t trust her, Steve! You can’t believe her!”

The woman jostles you and you close your eyes on instinct. A tear slips down your cheek.

“Shut up,” she growls.

You swallow thickly. At your sides, your hands and fingers have gone numb, and your legs are barely holding you upright.

“Alright,” Steve agrees. “I’ll go with you.”

A sob bursts through and the woman releases you. She practically throws you to the ground, and you have just enough time to get your arms out in front of you before you hit the road. Pain shoots up both limbs and the pavement digs into your forearms. From where you lay, you watch the men pull Steve to his feet. He moves with them and doesn’t fight back as they drag him to a black cargo van on the perimeter of the blast zone.

“Steve!” you scream. Your voice breaks and your throat feels raw as you push yourself up and stumble in their direction. The movement sends pins and needles into your hands and feet, but you do it anyway. Your limbs feel completely out of your control as you attempt to go after them.

Steve looks back at you. He’s too far now for you to make out his expression, but you can see that he’s trying to tell you something. The man on his right shoves his shoulder and he’s forced into the van.

“Let him go! Steve!” You start to sprint, running after the van as the back door slides shut and the woman, who climbed into the driver’s seat while you were getting to your feet, begins to navigate it through the rubble from the explosions. The tinted windows keep you from seeing Steve inside and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

“Someone help me! Stop that van!”

You run until you physically can’t. The van is long gone, and when you collapse onto the street, a crowd gathers around you. People are murmuring and asking you questions. There are too many hands, too many faces, even if many of them are familiar. Your vision swims as you’re rolled onto your back. The summer sun beats down on you harder, and you try to focus, but all you can manage is a mumble of Steve’s name before you lose consciousness on the pavement.

When you wake, the soft beeping noise is enough to tell you that you’re in a hospital. You open your eyes, expecting to be greeted by white walls and bedding, and maybe a wall of cabinets with a sink. Instead, there’s a slanted wall of glass windows, each separated by a pillar of concrete. Thin, almost invisible computer screens with golden text are scattered around your room, each displaying charts, figures, and data in a language you can’t read. Some are embedded into the walls on either side of the bed, while others float above white counters that look more like control panels for a spaceship. There are scans of someone’s body and brain—your brain, you realize after a long moment—that spin in circles on the floating screens.

A hiss makes you flinch, and you quickly look away from the brain scan to where a young, dark-skinned girl is walking in through a set of sliding glass doors you hadn’t seen before. Her white, high-necked sheath dress looks nothing like hospital attire, especially since it’s sleeveless and only has mesh to cover her shoulders and a few inches below her knees, but she’s holding a tablet and looks so serious that you wonder if maybe she’s not a regular doctor. After all, this doesn’t seem like a normal hospital. Where are you? Did the men in black come back to get you, too?

“Y/N, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” she asks.

Her accent is jarring, and you blink. When you go to speak, you have to lick your lips a few times. They’re dry, and your mouth feels so much like sandpaper that for a moment you don’t think you’ll actually be able to say anything at all.

“Where am I?” you finally ask in return. “Who are you?”

She smiles briefly and checks something on her tablet, then glances over at one of the floating screens off to the side. Seemingly satisfied, she locks the device and sets it aside.

“My name is Shuri. You’re in Wakanda. You will be safe here.”

You frown. “Wakanda?” None of the hospitals even remotely close to the hostel hold that name, not even in passing, but it sounds familiar.

“Yes. We’re friends of Captain Rogers. When we heard about his capture, and how you were involved, we brought you here.”

Tears burn hot in your eyes as the memories from the street outside the hostel come flooding back all at once. How long have you been in the hospital? Who’s looking for Steve?

“We have located him already,” she continues, and you inhale sharply, shifting in the bed as you reach up to wipe your face. “And the Dora Milaje has been sent to retrieve him.”

“The what?” you ask. Your voice shakes and you swallow hard in an attempt to steady yourself.

Shuri smiles again. “The Dora Milaje. They are our special forces here in Wakanda. Let me ask again, how are you feeling?”

You move in the bed a little bit more, testing your limbs for stiffness or pain. Surprisingly, there’s very little. “I’m… I’m okay, I think. Confused, mostly. Thirsty.” Your stomach growls, so you quickly add, “Hungry.”

She laughs and nods, then picks up her tablet. Shuri taps a few times before glancing down at something through the slanted windows.

“Someone will bring you food shortly. I’ll also have someone come change the bandages on your hands and wrists. Your injuries are healing nicely. You should still rest a while longer, but I will make sure you’re notified when Captain Rogers has been safely returned.”

Nodding, you sit back against the pillows, but you quickly sit up again with a gasp. “The hostel! Ana!”

“We’ve sent someone to assist Miss Mitrovich in your absence,” Shuri soothes. She steps closer to the bed and you lie back as she approaches. “There were very few repairs that needed to be done to your building, but they are taken care of, and all your guests are safe. I have already dispatched a team of Wakandan specialists to help with the rebuild of Brdonik. We are also installing a security system in your building.”

You sigh in relief and close your eyes, swallowing against the dryness again. You lay in silence, listening to Shuri as she moves around the room and mutters to herself. When you finally open your eyes again, it’s because she’s greeting someone as the sliding glass doors hiss open for a second time.

“Grant,” you murmur, and he gives you a weak smile from just inside the doorway. You correct yourself, shaking your head. “Steve.”

“Grant is my middle name,” he quietly explains. “And Carter…”

“Agent Carter,” you finish. “I see the connection now.”

While waiting for your food, you’ve slowly been piecing together the different parts of Steve’s life that you knew, trying to get the full picture. You’ve known him personally as Grant, the quiet man from Brooklyn that is good with his hands, always knows exactly what to say when you’re in a bad mood, and is a hit with every guest that crosses your threshold. On the other hand, you also know him as Steve, the All-American super-soldier that’s plastered across every history textbook you’ve ever been given. He’s also the super-soldier that you’ve watched on the news, listening to reporter after reporter praise him like he’s a god, then publicly curse and shame him on their next breath.

Shuri quietly excuses herself. You stare at Steve as she leaves through the sliding doors behind him. There’s a cut above his right eyebrow, and blood caked in his beard, right below a nasty split in his lower lip. He’s standing lopsided, like he’s keeping the weight off his right foot, and he looks like he could use a shower and a long nap.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He nods again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For dragging you into this,” Steve answers. He sighs. “For getting you hurt. For putting you in danger.”

You shake your head and sit up a little more in the bed, allowing the pillows to prop you upright. “None of this is your fault.”

“It is, and—”

“And nothing,” you interrupt. You give him a stern look and he presses his lips together with a wince. “You didn’t know that there was any danger. If you had, wouldn’t you have left?”

After a second, Steve nods, and you continue,

“And if you’d been able to stop it from happening, you would’ve, right?”

Another nod and you smooth the surprisingly soft hospital blanket over your legs.

“Then it’s not really your fault, Grant. Steve,” you correct again, more firmly this time. You’re still coming to terms with the fact that he’s not 100% who he said he was.

“But you still got hurt. I still put you in danger just by being there. I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. I got too comfortable, and too close, and I was careless.”

You purse your lips and watch him for several moments. Steve stays still under your inspection, waiting for you to say something.

Finally, you tell him, “I don’t regret what happened, and if I had the chance to go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t. I’m not in mortal danger, and you’re safe again. The hostel is being taken care of. None of the guests got hurt. Tourism might be down for a couple months but…” You shrug. “It’s the end of the busiest season anyway, and I have enough savings that I’m not going to worry.”

Steve shakes his head at you, then turns to look at the screens. He doesn’t seem to be actually reading them, but he puts his hands on his hips as he stares at a spinning scan of your hand and wrist.

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

He turns back. He’s silent for a few seconds as he watches you fidget with the hem of the blanket in your lap. “No,” Steve finally replies. “I don’t.”

“Me neither.”

When he doesn’t move, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You’re not dressed in a normal hospital gown—someone has put you in leggings and a tunic of some kind—but you still shiver when your bare feet touch the floor.

“Y/N—” Steve limps towards you, holding both hands out to steady you if you lose your balance. You don’t, and he stops a few feet away.

“I don’t regret any of it, Steve,” you say. You start to close the distance between the two of you even more. “Not a single minute.”

“Volim te,” Steve murmurs.

You freeze, now within arm’s reach. “What?”

“Volim te.”

Your brain is working a mile a minute to catch up with what he’s said. Steve shifts in place, wincing as he transfers the weight to his injured leg.

“You should get that checked out,” you quietly tell him, glancing down at his leg.

He stares at you, as if he was expecting a different response. You know he was, but you’re suddenly so overwhelmed by everything that it’s the first thing out of your mouth.

“I—” You close your eyes and shake your head, letting out a small self-conscious chuckle. “I’m sorry. I love you too, Steve. I do. I love you. I don’t— I don’t know why I said that. I guess I’m just worried—”

He cuts you off by stepping into your space and cupping your face with one hand. His fingers thread up into your hair and he tilts your head back so he can press his lips to yours. Your arms fall limp at your sides for a second, but then your brain catches up. You close your eyes and reach up to put one hand on the back of his neck. The other slides around his waist, pulling him closer as he kisses you.

Steve’s body is warm and though he winces with pain, then pulls away slightly to touch his fingers to his busted lip, neither one of you actually moves away from the other. You stay close enough to feel the heat from his breath on your skin.

“You need to eat,” he murmurs.

“And you need a doctor,” you reply.

He smiles a little, more just pressing his lips together than anything, and kisses your forehead. You close your eyes again when he lingers.

“Don’t go,” he says as you step away.

You frown and crowd close again, and you place both hands on his chest. “Steve?”

“No. I mean, you should go now, but…” He struggles for a second, trying to find the words he wants to say, and you wait patiently. “What I meant was: Don’t go back to Croatia. Stay with me.”

“What about the hostel? What about Ana and the guests?”

“I’ve heard you say a thousand times that she could probably run the place on her own. Plus, it’s the end of the busiest season, and after everything that’s happened, tourism will probably be low. You said it yourself.”

Steve reaches up to pull your hands off of him, but he holds them and rubs little circles over your knuckles with his thumbs. He watches you carefully, giving you his full attention. His eyes are deep and blue, and the crinkle between his eyebrows has disappeared completely now that he’s sure you’re okay.

“So, what? I’d stay here in Wakanda? What would I do?” you ask, frowning. “They don’t really have tourists here, do they? It’s not like they need a hostel.”

“No, but I need a partner.”

“Don’t you already have partners, Steve? What about the Falcon? Or Black Widow? Or even your friend that you told me about—James? Isn’t he a superhero, too?”

Shaking his head, he answers, “That’s not the kind of partner I need, Y/N. I don’t need a partner to fight with. I need a partner that I can live with. Someone to make a home with.”

You stare at him for a second, allowing your brain to process what he’s just said, and then you give him a slow, sly smile. Inside, you’re giddy and jumping up and down, but all you do is pull your hands in a little more so he has to step closer to you.

“Steven Grant Rogers, are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I guess I am.” His ears are starting to turn a bright shade of pink, and it’s beginning to creep along his cheekbones as well, just above his beard.

Steve’s still holding your hands captive, so you simply raise an eyebrow. “Do you have a place to live here in Wakanda? Or are we going to be staying here in my hospital room until you find one?”

He shrugs and grins back at you. “King T’Challa gave me an apartment.”

“The king gave you an apartment?” You pull your hands away and step back. You can’t hide your disbelief, though deep down, you figure it’s very likely that the king tried to give Steve more. He’s a hero, even if most of the world doesn’t believe it.

“The princess was just in here going over your medical information, and you’re shocked that he gave me an apartment?” Steve asks, a smirk on his face.

You gape at him even more. “You’re kidding. Steve, that was not—”

“Princess Shuri. She’s made most of the technology around here, and she oversees the recovery of important patients. Like you,” he adds.

“If I’d known—”

He leans in and kisses your forehead again. “You don’t need to bow or anything. They don’t do that here, though I’m sure she’d appreciate a thank you the next time you see her. Maybe compliment one of her inventions. T’Challa says she likes that.”

“The next time?” you hiss. “Steve—”

This time, he laughs at you. It’s a full-bodied laugh, unlike the sparse chuckles you’ve gotten out of him since his return, and you relax. You smile, too, a real smile that makes your cheeks ache as you press your burning face against his chest. Steve wraps his arms around you. His body shakes as he laughs, but he quickly settles down and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you tell him, not letting go. In fact, you hug him tighter around the waist with both arms.

“Me too. Come on, ljubavi. Let’s go home.”

Dobro jutro = Good morning

Kako vam mogu pomoći? = How can I help you?

Govorite li engleski? = Do you speak English?

Dobor dan = Good afternoon

Molim = Please

Dragi = Darling

Volim te = I love you

Ljubavi = Love/my love

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

If you want to support me further, consider buying me a ko-fi! My ko-fi is also under my SPN fanfiction blog, but I promise it’s me.

If you would like to be added to my tags, please send me a message or an ask! I tag for Everything, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker.

Forever: @aya-fay

Steve Rogers: @lipstickandvibranium @delicatecapnerd

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amphibiahawks321 · 11 months ago

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AMPHIBIAHAWKES321 MAKE MORE SHURI X MALE READER FICS AND MY LIFE,IS YOURS.

[Shuri and Ramonda walking to her lab while talking to each other]

Ramonda : You will go to the initiation ceremony young lady....

Shuri : Young–Young lady!? I am a full blown teenager now!

Ramonda : you're not acting like a responsible one...

Shuri : I am plenty responsible! I heard the king himself is gonna show up to that initation why is my presence so needed?

Ramonda : Because you are part of the royal family and it's going to be a special event...

[Ramonda and shuri stop at the entry of the lab]

Shuri : trust me I would really really love to go it's just that I'm... Uh...–I'm Very very busy right now! Yes! And it is a project that's very important!

Ramonda : ......

[Ramonda opens up the door and sees Y/N using a half build high tech candy vending machine that shots out the candy and flies itself to his mouth]

M!Reader : Oh this is delicious!–.....

[Y/N stares to the side and stares at Ramonda and Shuri awkwardly]

M!Reader : .....

Ramonda : building a vending machine with your boyfriend is what you called important....

Shuri : .....

Shuri : Okay but have you tried the candies–

#male reader #shuri x reader #reader x shuri #shuri #marvel x reader #reader x marvel #marvel #reader x mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu

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baewritez · 8 months ago

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Hello.

Before anything I am a BLACK women. Now that is clear let set some healthy boundaries.

No bullying of any kind will be allowed.

No racist comments or racial slurs.

Please be patient with me updating any bodies of work. ( I am only human and a college student.)

Yes request are open however DO NOT SPAM my dm box.

Be respectful of my writing choices.

Not following this will result in automatic blocking. Now that is clear I would like to introduce myself. Hello , my name is Bae. I am 24 years old , I hail from sunny Miami ,Florida , and I am a Leo and Cancer clasp. I write black women romance and adult fanfiction with a focus on plus size and curvy women. The request box is open and i will be updating and posting new work every Wednesday. Love you all and welcome to Baewritez.

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist

SERIES (3+ parts)

Broken - finished

TWO-PART SHOTS

I love you and I hate it

Part 1 | Part 2

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy

Part 1 | Part 2

Sargeant Grumpy

Part 1 | Part 2

ONE-SHOTS

On Thin Ice - Figure Skating AU - requested

Mornings Like This - requested

Love Is A Battlefield

New Year's Eve

Back To You - alternative ending

Happy Birthday

Birthday Kiss - 40s Bucky

Can I Be Him?

Not So Bad

Sputnik - requested

Obsessed

Stargazing

You Were My Sunshine

Until My Last Breath

Doppelgänger

DRABBLES

You're Still My Sunshine

Bucky Eating

Chill Bucky

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haechvn · 7 months ago

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Too Intense

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x F!Reader

Warning: Y'all gone hate me cause Shuri rude asf. You have been warned. I'm actually tryna hurt yall feelins. Angst.

Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary/Request: Toxic!Shuri. That's it.

Author’s Note: I wrote this a while ago but I wasn't too sure about it. I tweaked it a bit and now i'm in love. Lmk if yall wanna be on my taglist. Love yall

Taglist: @blkgworlamplified @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @theblacksuccubus

The cold, sterile smell of the hospital was almost too familiar by now, a stark reminder of the pain and confusion that had become a constant in your life. Shuri had been rough with you during a training session. Her strength, normally a reassuring presence, had become uncomfortably overbearing, and you found yourself sidelined in the hospital for a few nights on many different occasions. The bruises and aches were secondary to the emotional turmoil of being so close to her yet so far away.

When you were finally released, the confrontation you dreaded sought you out. Shuri had locked herself in her room, unable—or rather unwilling—to face you. Her absence was a silent scream of regret and discomfort, and you could feel the coldness of her avoidance cutting through the air. Her usual self-assured demeanor had cracked, revealing a vulnerability she refused to acknowledge.

Her newfound lack of empathy was one of the hardest things to endure. Shuri often acted as if her own hardships were so monumental that nothing could compare. It became a habit for her to dismiss your struggles with an almost casual cruelty. “Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom every day. Where’s mine? Oh, right. I’m done listening,” she would say, brushing off your pain with a shrug. It was as if your problems were trivial compared to the grand scale of her own trials.

This lack of empathy extended to how she handled your relationship, particularly when it came to her interactions with RiRi. Shuri was constantly talking about how beautiful RiRi was, her voice dripping with deliberate poison, meant to provoke jealousy and rage. Despite her attempts to downplay it, her actions spoke volumes. The tension built until it reached a breaking point. One night, the emotional strain pushed you too far and you lashed out at her with every fiber of your being. It was a desperate act of frustration and pain, the culmination of feeling constantly belittled and manipulated.

Shuri looked you dead in the eyes after that you spoke out against her behavior, her gaze cold and unwavering. “You aren’t more important than my work or anyone else in my life,” she said with an icy calm tone. “If you can’t handle that, then you should just leave me alone. Spend the money I give you and keep quiet.” The words cut deep, and the gesture that followed—a transfer of two million dollars to your account—was a bitter reminder of her ability to detach from you emotionally while trying to compensate with financial means. The way she used money as a substitute for emotional connection only deepened the rift between the two of you. Her financial generosity was supposed to be a balm for the wounds she inflicted, but it only served as a stark reminder of how transactional your relationship had become. The many millions of dollars she has transferred to you over the years were a testament to her belief that money could mend what her words and actions had shattered.

Her refusal to even be intimate with you became a weapon she wielded with precision. One morning, you had simply greeted the Dora Milaje with a soft “hi,” and Shuri’s reaction was swift and harsh. “I didn’t like the way you spoke to them,” she declared, her tone final. “No sex tonight. Matter fact, don't touch me for a week.” The punishment felt petty and unjust, a way for her to reassert her control and punish you for perceived slights.

The physical and emotional barriers she built were sometimes more painful than the wounds from training sessions. Her constant criticism, whether it was about your strength or my interactions with others, was a manifestation of her own insecurities. She projected her frustrations onto you, making every exchange feel like a test of endurance rather than a moment of genuine connection.

The dynamic between you often felt like a constant struggle for validation. Shuri’s embarrassment over your perceived lack of strength was another cruel twist in the relationship. “Tighten up, what is the hell is the matter with you,” she’d scold, her impatience palpable. It was as if your struggles were a reflection of her own inadequacies and oh did she despised seeing you falter.

Shuri’s refusal to acknowledge her role in your issues, combined with her tendency to gaslight and dismiss every feeling you expressed, left you reeling. Her actions, from the callous remarks about any family issues to the cruel mind games she played with RiRi, spoke of someone who was deeply conflicted but unwilling to confront her own shortcomings.

Each time you thought you'd find a moment of understanding or solace in one another, Shuri would retreat back into her fortress of self-righteousness and emotional detachment. It was as if she viewed the relationship as a battleground, where the stakes were high and the only victory was maintaining control. Any attempts to address these issues were met with her trademark dismissal or cold logic.

In moments of clarity, you could see the cracks in her armor—the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability and the rare admissions of her own struggles. Yet, these moments were always fleeting, quickly buried under layers of her self-imposed duty and mental barricades. It was a dance between pain and disillusion, where love was twisted into a weapon rather than a source of comfort.

As you navigated the choppy waters of your relationship, it became clear that Shuri was trapped in her own cycle of paranoia and denial. Her inability to balance her personal and professional lives, combined with her tendency to prioritize her work over the connection you two once nurtured, created a volatile environment where genuine affection was often overshadowed by power struggles and emotional manipulation.

The realization of how deeply she was embedded in her own worldview left you grappling with your own emotions. You had to come to terms with the fact that your attempts to reach her or change the situation was no longer necessary. The love you once shared had become a thorn in your side. The high stakes were not just your feelings but your very sense of self-worth and emotional stability.

In the end, you were left to decipher the complexity of your union, trying to find a way to either bridge the gap or finally accept that this cycle of emotional manipulation and control was unsustainable. The journey was marked by moments of intense passion and deep pain, a testament to the intricate and often destructive nature of your once sacred connection. The combination of emotional distance, scheming, and outright cruelty created a relationship that was as painful as it was complex.

#omg #shuri angst #shuri is a eater #shuri x reader #black panther x reader #black panther imagine #shuri smut #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku #black!reader #black!y/n #marvel imagine #black panther #black panther smut #black panther angst #shuri black panther

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amplifiedmoan · 2 years ago

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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 (𝑷𝒕. 𝟐)

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x Black!fem reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), long distance relationship, strap on sex, cunnilingus, scissoring, overstimulation, kimoyo bead toy, switch!Reader, switch!Shuri, etc.

Word Count: 2.4k

Synopsis: Shuri came to visit you on campus again while Riri is away. Refer to Part 1.

Song Inspiration:

Author’s Note: Whew! Y’all, I’m slut, you’re a slut, Shuri’s a slut. I can’t make this up… Please leave your thoughts and criticism in the comments. I love y’all! Byeeee

Long distance was hard.

You weren’t sure how long you and Shuri were going to be able to keep this up, but for the time being, you just enjoyed each other’s company.

Riri went home last night to see her mother. She’d often get homesick and her mother is usually all alone whenever she was on campus. A family reunion was in the works and she wanted to help her mother cook and prepare for it.

The night air blew in from the dorm room window. The oxygen around was thick, a sexual aroma marinating in it. It coerced you. The headboard creaked against the wall, scraping against the new paint job.

“Oh, fuck!” You screamed. Your walls were sealed around the strap that Shuri was pouncing inside of you. “Agh… yes yes yes!” Moans flew out with small breaths. Your calves sat fittingly on her shoulders as she took out any and all frustration on you and your body. Your eyes closed shut tightly as she picked up her pace, fighting for not only your release but her own. Your boobs danced beneath her, unable to stay in place. Her eyes flicked up from your enticing brown nipples to your beautiful brown eyes.

“How’s that, nkosanza?” (princess) Shuri uttered, leaning down to kiss you on your soft lips as she continued fucking you. Damn, she made you flexible over time. She’d never let you limit yourself or say what you thought you couldn’t do. “I’m… I’m gonna cum, baby.” You replied softly against her mouth. Your brain was completely incompetent but you drowned in ecstasy.

“Mmhm.” She smirked. Whenever you were about to cum, Shuri would prepare to fuck the shit out of you through your orgasm. It made her feel powerful. “You’re so pretty, Y/N.” She spoke, reaching for your neck. She began pushing in and out of you slowly. Shuri watched your pussy swallow the vibranium and then release it afterwards. You moaned at the feeling of her veiny, tatted hands violating your windpipe.

“So are you.” You smiled softly, eyes still closed with bliss. “I’m going to be rough, usana.” (baby) She voiced, looking up your body, rubbing gently against your throat with her thumb. “I know.” You whispered, opening your eyes, allowing her to view the consent resting in your pupils. Before you knew it, your girlfriend was drilling you into the mattress beneath you two. She moaned softly, as the strap rubbed up against her pussy, leaving her nice and wet.

Your body burned with pain and pleasure all at once. “Please, fuck! Oh my g-” Full sentences were a little too advanced for you at the moment. Shuri pushed deeper into you, rolling upwards to create some more friction. “Ah… ah.” Your voice shattered and tears pricked through your eyelids. Shuri truly knew how to make you lose your mind.

“Mmhmm. Take it just like I know you can.” She nodded, tightening her grasp around your neck. That alone sent you into a frenzy. Her deep and purposeful thrusts lead you both closer to your orgasms. “Shit… Always so tight.” She declared. You clasped sharply around the vibranium, sending Shuri over the edge.

“Oh… fuckkkkkkk!” You shouted as Shuri began ramming into you deeper, faster and more profound. The overstimulation had her breathing heavily, her jaw flexing as she began to cum again with you. “Damn, girl.” She whispered like she’s never came like this before. You chuckled at the satisfaction on her face.

“Bast, your pussy is so good.” (God) Her eyes flew open as she pulled out of you slowly, watching your slick detach from her sinful creation. You smiled softly at her words. You knew that already though, Shuri just had to remind you every chance she got. She began removing her strap and you rolled over to check the time on your phone. “Damn, babe… It’s 11.” You scuffed, realizing she has to leave around 6 am tomorrow.

“It’s alright. You know I’ll sleep perfectly fine on the flight.” You shut your phone off and sat up on your elbows to watch her as she shoved her boxers down her legs. “You’re insane.” You said, sulking in the sight of her bare body. She wasn’t anywhere done for the night and you knew it.

Shuri bent down on the bed, crawling towards you. “Let me eat it.” She said, voice all raspy from her constant moans. Without hesitation, your legs spread wide open for her once again tonight.

“Baby… agh.” Was all that escaped your pretty lips as Shuri sucked and nipped at your clit. “Mmm.” She moaned in between your legs, sending micro vibrations through your body. “It’s so good.” She whispered against your sensitive bud. Your head fell into the pillows and you used them to bite away your moans.

“Aht… No! Let me hear how good I make you feel.” Shuri smacked the inner flesh of your thigh and your pussy pulsated vigorously between her lips. You fought the urge to touch her hair while she was spitting so comfortably on your flesh. It all felt so riveting.

You reached for her curls and she smiled alarmingly at your touch. “Talk to me, usana.” (baby) She encouraged the obscenities that cooked up in your throat to come out, whenever she ate you like you were her last supper. Your eyes watered again, unable to hold the tear drops that insisted on traveling down your cheeks.

“Fuck!” You exploded. She continued to lick upwards so that she can witness you fall apart right above her tongue. “Mm, yeah!” You shouted, trying to push away from Shuri’s grasp. “Please!” You begged her to release you. She saw that you couldn’t tolerate it much longer.

Shuri pulled her tongue away for a moment and allowed you to catch your breath. Something about the smug look on her face made your stomach feel queasy. She looked at you, tilting her head as if she was thinking about what she could do to you next.

You shut your eyes for a split second and there she was, stretching her leg across yours. That damn herb had not only enhanced her strength, but it enhanced her endurance and energy as well. She could honestly fuck you all night. It was a blessing in some cases but a curse in others.

“Y/N!” Shuri screamed to the top of her lungs. You rubbed your pussy against hers abruptly. Her mouth hung open and her moans were consistent. You were now in control.

“You like this, baby?” You moved in a circular motion against her, reaching for one of her breasts. You massaged and pinched her nipples, attempting to send a rush through her body. That you did. “Ah, shit!” She spoke, looking so helpless on top of you. She came already, so this orgasm would definitely hit a little harder, you thought.

“That’s right.” You moaned. Your breath hitched and you watched as Shuri’s body began to jerk above yours. “Fuck…” was all you heard before a stream of liquid poured from her pussy and onto your body. She quivered above you and you began cumming at the sight. “Shit!” You whimpered. After a moment, she slid off of you slowly. Both of your bodies laid frail right next to each other.

After a few much needed minutes of rest, Shuri got up and headed to the bathroom. You raised your head from the bed, to relax it on your hand while you watched her turn on the bath tub. You both were extremely fatigued, but that didn’t stop you from telling Alexa to play a little bit of 90s Sade.

The hot, soapy water felt amazing lathered up against your back. Shuri continued to scrub you slowly to the beat of the music. “Feel good?” She asked, while leaving a few kisses on the top of your ear. “Yes, baby.” You responded, smiling wider with every kiss.

“There’s nothing like you and I, baby.” You sang to her softly, pressing your back against her chest. Your vocals separated in the room, echoing perfectly around you both. The ambiance was so beautiful. “This is no ordinary love.” You continued, finishing it off with a little humming.

“Nkosanza?” (Princess) She whispered against your neck. The sudden contact made you go stiff. “Yes?” You answered, eyes closed and relaxed. Shuri pushed a curl behind your ear and spoke. “I have something for you.” Your heart felt like it was slipping down your chest. Shuri gifted you things often, but something about her current demeanor frightened you a little. It sent a thrilling chill to your stomach, but you liked it.

“What is it, Shuri?” You chuckled nervously. The silence in the bathroom was nothing less than suspenseful. Shuri lifted her arm from out of the water to show you her Kimoyo beads. They lit up and she looked at you and then back at them. You looked back at her a little unsure of her reason for showing them to you.

She lifted her chin, gesturing for you to turn back around. “I’m going to give you one.” She muttered. You were still a bit confused but she clearly wasn’t done explaining, so you just continued to listen. “I am going to give you a singular bead, that I will be able to control while I am away.” She added. The atmosphere went balmy and you groaned a little at her words.

“Control it how?” You asked, genuinely wondering. She clicked on a bead and it fell off of her wrist immediately. It almost hit the bath water but her reflexes allowed her to she catch it in time. “Here you go.” She awaited your opened palm to take a hold of the bead. You grabbed it and brought it closer to your face. “So what do I…” before you could finish your sentence, she was commanding you. “Put it in your mouth.” She instructed.

“Ugh!” You whined, gripping the tub for support. The bead was vibrating harshly against your clit and there was honestly nothing you could do accept deal with it. “What did you do?” You fought to get those words out. “No, it’s what you did.” She smirked against your neck, licking it to test your endurance.

“Okay! Just-” You pleaded. Shuri looked down at how the vibration created bubbles in the water, making her snicker. With a click of her bracelet, the vibration slowed down and then came to a complete stop. She reached down in between your legs, to remove the bead from your fragile pussy. “I think you understand.” She whispered and that alone nearly sent you over the edge all over again.

“When you put it in your mouth, it gathered details about your tolerance and your patience. I just added a little bit of my touch.” She opened your palm and put the bead back inside your hand. “Your touch?” You asked. “Now I can do things to you without laying a finger on you.” She chuckled mischievously and your clit throbbed slightly. “But let us get some rest, Y/N.” She stood up behind you in the tub, the water droplets off her skin began hitting your back. You yawned softly and gave her your hand to grab.

“I’m going to miss you, Shuri.” You two stood outside on campus, waiting for her transportation. You hugged her tightly, taking in the fresh layer of cologne on her sweatshirt. She breathed in your cocoa butter shampoo that she loved so much, before releasing her grasp.

“I’ll call you soon, usana.” (baby) She assured you. Her voice a little low but she was smiling at you. You really did love this girl and there was no doubt that she loved you just as much, maybe a little more. At least that’s what she’d always say. “I love you.” You shouted as she walked backwards, not leaving your eyes. “I love you more, beautiful.”

The Talon Flyer appeared out of thin air and the force blew some of the leaves off of nearby trees. Shuri walked over to it quickly, before people started to pay too much attention to the advanced spacecraft.

The stairs became visible and she traveled up them, looking back at your face again. You were teary eyed like always. You couldn’t help it and she knew that. Shuri then blew you a little kiss, in attempts to make you smile. She succeeded. You started walking towards the double doors and The Talon Flyer’s doors shut swiftly.

You sat on your dorm room bed, scrolling on your laptop. You were catching up with all of your mutual’s recent instagram posts. You have been offline since Shuri arrived and now that she’s gone, it’s all you really could do.

“Mmm.” You bit into the juicy piece of pineapple that Riri cut before she left. Damn it was nice and fresh. You reached under the covers for the remote to turn some music on. When it got too quiet, you’d start to feel a little lonely. Sade always helped in times like this. “Play No Ordinary Love.” You shouted. “Now playing No Ordinary Love by Sade.” Was all you heard before you walked passed your dresser to look in the mirror. You wanted to do a quick twist out for class tomorrow.

A sudden buzz on your dresser left you confused. You looked under your Tv to see if you were losing it, but you actually weren’t. “What the fu…” You saw the kimoyo bead, calling for your attention. You picked it up and stared at it a little, trying to understand the cause of the buzzing.

It stopped vibrating once you picked it up so, you softly placed it back down. You headed back over to the mirror to start on your hair. Shuri didn’t necessarily explain to you all of the details about the bead. You were going to call her and ask her about the random buzzing later, until you heard a familiar voice. “Nkosanza.” (Princess) She called you. The sudden sound made you jump.

“Yes?” You walked back in front of your dresser. “How did you…” before you could ask, she was ordering you. “Get undressed and lay down.” She said. Shuri was sitting back in the Talon Flyer, in a room alone, watching you. She “forgot” to mention to you that she could see your hologram, whenever she turned the bead on. “Why, babe?” You asked curiously.

“I want to see you cum.” She responded shamelessly and you were a little confused but you didn’t question anything. You pulled your sweatpants down and reached for the clasp to take your bra off. Meanwhile, the music played gently in the background.

“This is no ordinary love. No ordinary love.”

#shuri udaku #black panther #shuri fanfiction #shuri imagine #shuri x reader #shuri smut #shuri x black!fem reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #lesbian #nywrites #wlw #black lesbian #Spotify

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killmongerskeepermain · 2 years ago

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What's Your Favorite Scary Movie // Shuriri // 18+

Pairing: Ghostface!Shuriri x Fem!Reader

Warning: Mentioned Death // Violence // Blood // Fluff // Angst // Attempted Robbery // Guns // Murder // Smut // Threesome //

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I started over SO MANY TIMES. Felt like it wasn’t right or something was off but I am happy with how this one turned out. Sorry for making yall wait but here is the Ghostface crossover fic as promised. Not proofread so forgive the errors.

When you first saw them, they were in the middle of one of their nightly outings. You shouldn’t have been there. You were supposed to meet some friends for a movie. But you just had to be stupid as fuck and try to help a woman who had ran into you. She was bleeding, scared, and disoriented. You would think she ran from a car accident or something. She held onto you while sobbing as you tried to calm her down. "Hey let's go ahead and get you to a hospital okay. You look like you've been hit by a car." You rubbed her shoulders making sure you didn't brush over any wounds. "What's your name? Where did you come from?" She cried into your shoulder before wiping blood off her cheek. "Anita. I was coming from a party and they started chasing me. Stabbed me." She was starting to become hysterical and you brushed her hair down. "Who chased you?' You said as a figure stepped out of the shadows. "We have to run!" She screamed out pulling you behind her as you navigated through the park. The figure was ducking through the trees and you went ahead of her as she started to slow down. You took the lead and ran ahead with her hand in yours. You could see the street ahead and smiled. "Come on, we're almost there." You couldn't wait to get to safety. Just as you passed through the gate the woman was snatched away from you with such force you nearly tripped up. The woman locked eyes with you and you can see the fear swimming in her brown eyes before she was stabbed in her stomach. You wanted to scream but couldn't. The scene in front of you had you frozen in place. The knife was yanked out before they stabbed her again, this time you can see the life fade from her eyes. You should run. Dropping her body they turned the mask in your direction and you felt glued to your spot. Your eyes flickered from the figure to the now dead Anita on the ground. The masked figure gave a small nod and you frowned in confusion. Get up and run. You jumped to your feet and booked it into the street. Running down the sidewalk you kept your eyes forward trying to get to your house. It's right there. Dashing up the steps you grabbed your key and went for the doorknob but the silence behind you had your hair on your neck standing straight. Your thoughts cut short when your head was tilted back as a rag was put over your mouth and nose. You reached back while your legs kicked in the air, trying your best to get out of their iron grip. "Relax, pretty girl." And just like that you were out like a light.

When you came to you were in a bedroom with your hands and feet tied together. Pulling at the restraints you silently cursed as it didn't budge. This is not happening. The door slowly opened and you saw the mask. You leaned further into the headboard and watched them as they set the knife down on the small table. "You good. I won't hurt you."

"What do you want with me? Why didn't you kill me at the park?" You couldn't help the questions that rolled off your tongue as they made their way closer to you. "Hate to break it to you ma, but you was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What was a pretty thing like you doing alone at night. You ever watch the news? Ever watch scary movies?" They said with a distorted voice and you felt a shiver run down your spine. The mask was lifted high enough for you to see their dark lips and you held your breath. "Use your words ma. It’s rude to not answer a genuine question." They stated in a light tone and you sighed. You waited anxiously as they took the mask completely off their head and your shoulders fell. She was gorgeous. And also dangerous, but you can’t knock her looks. You were sure your eyes were like saucers as she approached you. "Don't worry. I'm not gonna hurt you. As long as you don't try anything." You shrunk back into the headboard not knowing what else to do. You wanted to try and escape but with your feet tied together it wouldn't do you much good. She was so ruthless and dangerous when she killed people. She has blood on her hands but yet she spoke so softly to you. Inviting. As if she was afraid you'd despise her. "You're the one going around killing people?" Your fear must've been written all over your face because she was trying her hardest to stay calm. “Nothing gets past you huh pretty?” If you were in any other situation your heart would flutter but she just killed someone AND kidnapped you. You held your hard stare before you gave a small tug on your restraints with a sigh. "This necessary?"

"For now yeah. It was the only way she was gonna let you stay here." You frowned up and looked at the girl. "She?" Riri nodded her head as she walked to the side of the bed. You felt uneasy but did your best to look as calm as possible. "Never been kidnapped before." You mumbled trying to make subtle conversation. You caught her stare and saw a slight glint of worry in her dark eyes. "It ain’t personal. You saw us. Got to make sure you won't say anything to anybody. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt."

"So she's awake? She better be with how much trouble we just went through for her." A voice called out and you looked behind Riri to see a taller woman leaning on the doorframe wiping her hands with a paper towel. Your stare glued to the red stains. She was a bit thinner but she looks like she could snap you in half if she wanted to. You were sure she was the one that grabbed you. Her curls fell over her eyes but you were sure she was looking right through you. Her accent made it known that she wasn’t from around here. You wanted to seem tough but you stuck in a room with two bitches that kill people. “This is my partner. Wish I coulda introduced yall on a lighter note.” You didn’t miss how she sized you up before a scoff left her lips. “This is her? The one who almost got away. Bast are we getting sloppy?” She slowly approached you before grabbing your chin. “Just because we left you alive doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods. So for your sake you better be on your best behavior.”

A couple hours have passed since you’ve woken up and you've still been kept in the dark on what they were planning to do with you. If they were gonna kill you, you’d like to know. There was a small knock at the door and you sat up quietly. Riri popped her head in the door and your palms started to sweat. "You still looking at me like imma stab you or some shit."

"Like you did ole girl at the park? I'm scared aight. Pretty sure I can be, you’ve killed people." You stated as the other woman walked in shortly after. "She has a right to be afraid. After what we did to those people. I would be too if I was in her position." You winced at the playfulness laced in her words as you watched the two carefully. "Please. I don’t have time for you acting like that.” You were sure she was toying with you at this point. Making you feel uncomfortable on purpose. “Shuri-” A name slipped off her tongue and the three of you sat in silence. The girl noticed her mistake and looked at her partner. “Look, we can only go forward from here. She’s here. Right now. It’s either you get over it or we send her back. Where she could potentially call the cops. The choice was made and now here we are.” You watched the two go back and forth not really knowing if it's your place to say anything. "Why do you think Riri left you alive hm?" She tilted her head and for the first time in this conversation you locked eyes with her.

"I honestly don’t know. I’m just trying to stay alive here. If I upset you, I’m not doing it on purpose." You tried to level with her but she shook her head. You rubbed your hands down your dirty jeans and she scoffed.

"You don't have anything to be afraid of. She made sure I knew you were off limits. So I can't kill you. But that doesn't mean I can't harm you." She pulled your chin up so you were looking her in the face. "Shuri-" The taller woman ignored her partner and continued to intimidate you. "You have become a thorn in my side the second we brought you back here."

"Likewise." You mumbled and she raised an eyebrow.

"So you do have a little bark in you." She smirked and you balled your fists. "You look like you want to say something. So say it."

"You seem to already know. So why should I?" You scowled and she grabbed the back of your. "Do not forget who you are talking to. I can rip your life away from you in less than a second." For a split second you saw the darkness in her eyes and you felt anger crawl up your spin. "Yo Shuri what the fuck! Let her go." Riri shouted, running to free you from the woman's grip. "Shuri, please calm down. We aint kids no more use your damn words."

"She shouldn't be here." Shuri spat as she ignored Riri's attempts to calm her down. You had enough at this point. You didn’t care if they stabbed you to death or slit your throat. You did NOTHING wrong. "You can talk to me any kind of shit way but when I bite back it’s a problem. What’s the matter, can’t handle what you dish out princess?” You spat before she grabbed her hunting knife off the table. You staggered a bit but refused to back down. You are too deep in the argument to back away now. She swung once but you back away so her next bet was to tackle you to the floor. You brought a hand to the back of her head, grabbing a fist full of curls. She brought the knife up and you used your free arm to cover your chest and neck. “Shuri! Ease up!” Riri ran up to grab her arm before the taller woman swung back. Riri dodged just in time before the blade made contact with her neck. Her eyes grew wide in shock before you felt Shuri’s anger disappear. “Shit. I’m sorry usana. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She got off you, dropping the blade to cup Riri’s cheeks. You watched the exchange in silence before getting to your feet and walking out of the room, leaving the two alone. Riri came to you to apologize on Shuri's behalf sometime after but everything she was saying went in one ear and out the other. You had completely disassociated yourself. She saw you made no effort to speak and let out a sigh. The look on your face. She’d seen it before. When Shuri found out her mother had passed it's like everything else didn't matter. She wouldn't eat or sleep. Riri was the first to notice how you shut everything out. You just sat there and slept. And Shuri has been gone for the past 3 hours. The younger girl waited for Shrui to return and jumped to her feet when the door was pushed open.

"Hey." Shuri locked eyes with her before setting her gear on the table. "Hey. How's um.."

"She still hasn't said anything. You really freaked her out earlier. You can’t be snapping on people like that.” Shuri leaned on the counter with her head down as Riri reamined in her spot. “I know. I know.”

“Look Shuri, I think we're good to take her back home."

"Out of the question."

"Shuri.."

"She was on the security footage from that night. The last person to see that woman. Alive. The police have swarmed her home. Checking everything inside and out. With her not being that for so long they're ready to pin it on her." Now she cares? You listened in on their conversation since Riri mentioned you going home but Shuri had a point. You'd be sent to jail on sight. The police force for this town was more of a 'act now ask questions later' kinda setup. "She has to stay here. You said it yourself, just till things calm down." Shuri left a lingering kiss to Riri's lips before she walked down the hall without another word and Riri looked back at the closed door separating you. On the other side you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Shuri was right. You’d have to stay for awhile, a few more days at least. Taking a seat on the bed, you fiddled with your nails when the door opened. Riri walked around to face you with a blank stare. "Hey ma. Listen, I’m sorry about her, but unfortunately you can't go home just yet. Not if you don't want to get arrested." You didn't even flinch in response to her words and she sighed. She tightly grabbed your chin, she made sure you looked at her. Your eyes focused and went wide as she looked at you. "There's no point in sulking now. It's either you stay here with us or go back to get arrested. Which one you prefer?" You remained silent as a smirk appeared on her lips. "You need to loosen up a bit. I can help with that but you gotta tell me yes." You stared up at her with wide eyes before you took your lip between your teeth. “Promise she won’t kill me?” You couldn’t help your shaky voice as she brought her hands to your cheeks. Another voice cut in as she opened her lips to speak. “Cross my heart.” Shuri opened the door with a small smirk. You stared up at her but Riri grabbed your chin, pulling you into a feverish kiss.

"You okay with this?" You nodded, pulling her flush against you with a soft kiss. Her hands immediately went to your waist as you fell back against the mattress. Any hesitation she held washed away as her kisses became sloppy and hot. "Then tell us what you want, let me hear how you want to get fucked?" Pulling at your pants she slipped her hand over your panties causing you to throw your head back. Riri left a trail of kisses, tongue and spit down your neck as Shuri leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene in front of her unfold.

"Riri, fuck don't stop." You moaned out while the woman worked diligently on rubbing circles around your covered clit. Your legs spread to give her room to move when the sensation became more than a small jolt of pleasure. You urged her to go faster as she felt the wet spot she created, gently rubbing you down. "You can be louder than that. I know that for a fact." You groaned at her words before she pushed two fingers past the waistband and stroked your folds. "So fucking wet for me." She slipped her fingers inside you as her tongue dragged along your skin. You took the lead and started fucking yourself on her digits while she pulled at your shirt to reveal your gray bra. Not long after the piece was on the floor, giving Riri a chance to clasp her lips around your nipple. She curled her fingers as she sped up the pace, fucking you a bit harder. Shuri watched on as you clenched around her lover's fingers, feeling her own wetness start to pool between her legs. You took her so well. Brushing against your g spot, Riri groaned as you quickly come undone by her hand. "Fuck Ri I'm gonna come. I'm coming." You moaned as your juices spilled into her hand. She pulled away to admire the shine on her fingers before slipping on in her mouth. "You taste so fucking good." You move in for a desperate kiss with half lidded eyes, still warm and sensitive in bliss. You could taste yourself on her tongue before feeling another body beside you. You locked eyes with Shuri, tensing up before Riri tapped your shoulder.

"It's alright. She gone take care of you too." You felt at ease by her words as Shuri leaned in to kiss your forehead. You sighed into her touch as her hand gently wrapped around your throat. Riri latched onto your pulse to keep herself busy as you fell into the passion of the kiss. "I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you." Riri groaned against your skin before repositioning against the headboard. She brought her hands up to cup your breasts while Shuri pulled your panties down your legs painfully slow. "Will you forgive me Y/N?.”

"Trust us ma. We both know how to treat a lady." Riri added as she spread your legs. Gently tilting your head back to plant a hungry kiss to your lips. When you pulled away Shuri nestled her own hips between your thighs. "This is why you didn't answer my question earlier?" You said as she rubbed the tip of her strap along your dripping slit. She took her time slipping into you causing you to wince from the slight burn of her stretching you out. This one will take some getting used to. She was halfway inside before she grabbed your chin. "Look at me. Usana." The xhosa slipped off her tongue as you stared into her dark eyes. She then took the chance to fully bury herself into your warmth. Riri on the other hand took the chance to wrap her arm around your body to find the throbbing bundle of nerves aching to be touched. "Oh my god." You moaned out leaning against Riri's now bare chest. When she shed her shirt you'll never know. "Wait. Ri let me taste you baby. Please." You whined and she gave a small nod. "When you ask so nicely. Shuri pulled out to let you maneuver until you were hovering over Riri's clothed pussy. You helped her shimmy out of her shorts before a moan left your lips as you laid eyes on the wetness dripping down her thighs. Your tongue peeked from between your lips as you gave a single lick along her slit. The moan that left her was utterly disgusting and you wanted to pull more from her. She usually never let's you go down on her. You started to lap at her pussy as Shuri ran the tip of her strap over your drooling folds. With a sudden thrust you moaned into Riri's heat, the vibrations sending her into a frenzy. The woman behind you started her own pace while you flatten your tongue and lapped up Riri's arousal. You moaned out as she grabbed your hair to use your face to chase her orgasm. You slid a finger past her walls while your mouth worked its magic.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck that's it." Shuri wasted no time pounding into you while you helped Riri with her own. You licked, spit and sucked on her pussy until you felt her clench around your finger. "She's still so pretty when she comes." Shuri joked as Riri's body went limp on the bed. You could tell Shuri was close. The toy brushed against her clit with the same intensity she was giving to fuck you. The knot was so close to coming loose. The toy pushed against your abused g spot and you felt a second orgasm creep up on you. You clenched down on her strap feeling your juices gush out over her thighs. Soon after her grip tightened over the skin of your ass and her orgasm wrecked through her. "Look at that. You're so pretty like this." Riri held your cheeks as Shuri pulled out of you. Your body went slack against Riri's chest as you took a minute to come down from cloud nine. Shuri peppered a trail of kisses down your back. "You did so good for us Y/N. You groaned in response, not being able to form words as Riri ran her fingers over your scalp. “We’re not through with you yet, beautiful.”

You pulled yourself out of your trance from last night's activities when the lightning lit up the night sky. Leaning on the counter you opened the cabinet to get a bowl down. After filling the dish with Cinnamon Toast crunch you heard your phone buzz. Your eyes lit up when you saw a certain group chat icon on your screen.

Shuri: Didn't take you for a squirter.

You felt your face grow hot before hiding behind a pillow.

Y/N: Neither did I but I guess you're just good with your hands.

Riri: If you do that everytime, It'll get even better. You trying to slide through tonight?

Y/N: I can't. Got a tutoring session.

Shuri: With who?

Y/N: That girl Tiana. Said she needed some help so she could pass her herbology lecture. But she was supposed to be here an hour ago. Idek if she's still coming.

Neither of them responded for a couple minutes and you began to wonder if something happened.

Y/N: Yall okay?

Shuri: Yeah, I had to make a call.

Riri: But she asking for help then don't show. Bitch crazy. Couldn't have been me.

Y/N: Yeah I know you'd charge her an extra $300.

Riri: Nah $400 just because I don't like ha ass.

Y/N: Ri! You stupid as hell

Riri: I'm just saying. But look yall start the movie without me, imma swing by later. I need to handle something.

Y/N: Everything alright?

Riri: Yeah. The brainless jock ass thought I was playing about paying me.

Y/N: Don't go to hard on him

Riri: I won't ma.

You sat down your phone and put on some sweatpants before heading to the kitchen with your phone now in hand. You turned on the news and stopped in your tracks as the bright red letters urgent news caught your attention.

"It's been 6 days since Anita Ubie was found stabbed to death just outside of Chicago's outskirts. This marks the fourth killing in the span of 2 weeks. We have suggested that everyone be cautious and the authorities have begun to set a curfew in place.

Your mind began racing over the past couple of days. It could’ve been you. But it wasn’t. There’s nothing you could do now. They brought you home so you could talk to the police and clear your own name. Thanks to Shuri it was said that a man Anita was seeing snapped and killed her when he found out she was cheating on him. You just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You shook your head of the thought and went into your kitchen. You proceeded to put your dishes in the sink before the doorbell rang. You stood still in the middle of the kitchen, dumbfounded. You weren't expecting company at this time of night. You creeped up to the peephole and let out a sigh of relief when you saw a familiar face. You opened the door to see Tiana fixing her makeup with a man next to her. You recognized him as her sneaky link Tay.

"Bitch you were supposed to be here 2 hours ago. Alone." You sneered not to keen on people wasting your time.

"Girl relax, I had to stop by Tay's place. I swear he can make any stress I have disappear with a good dick down. But decided at the last minute to bring him, he won't be in the way. I promise." She sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she walked in with Tay on her heels.

"You reach out to me, saying you want a girls night. Then you wasted my time because of a dick appointment? THEN you show up here with said dick appointment. Where ya man? Cause last I heard, its sure as hell not Tay. You chuckled, closing your door. Not aware of the eyes watching the scene unfold.

"Look, he's not giving it to me the way I need it and Tay can. But that's a secret that stays between us." She frowned as you rolled your eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Let's just get this over with. I got shit to do. Just make sure you pay me my money when we done. Its extra for me to keep your little secret." You told her as you led the way to your living room. You took notice of how Tiana scanned the room before sitting on the couch.

"I gotchu. Maybe Tay can help you out sometime." You laughed at her offer before setting your books down on the table. "Nah. Don’t root for that team."

"Really! I never would've thought." She said and you nodded before starting your late night study session. "Girl, what the fuck made you move all the way out here? All this land surely can be scary at night huh."

"It's alright. I tend to like being alone so it's not that big of a deal." You told her as she leaned down to grab the remote.

"Have you seen the news lately? People turning up dead left and right. Makes me not want to leave the house anymore." She stated with a shiver.

"Yeah shits wild. That's why you gotta have something to protect yourself. I always keep my pistol somewhere nearby." Your eyes moved from Tiana to Tay who seemed a little skittish. "You aight? You've been a bit jittery since you got here. I'm not going to shoot you. Not unless you give me a reason to."

"Nah, just tired is all. Been up all day doing some yard work for a couple down the street from my house. Haven't really wound down yet." He told you but kept diverting his eyes away from you.

"Yeah. In this heat I'm sure working all day will do it to ya. Hey I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." You told the couple as you grabbed your phone and went down the hall. You hadn't noticed how Tiana burned holes in your back and entire walk until you closed the door. After doing your business you unlocked your phone to see a slew of messages from your best friend, Shuri, and Riri?

Nia: Bitch call me when you read this!

Shuri: Y/N Call me!

Nia: Bitch I know you're tutoring Tiana today. Watch yo back. Especially if she bring that bum ass nigga Tay. Streets whispering that they gone try to pull some shit on you. Saying they just robbed Jerome and his sister after she invited them over to her place. From what I'm hearing, the bitch don't like you. Please be careful.

Riri: You said you was tutoring Tiana? Did that bitch bring somebody to yo house.

You frowned as you read the messages and cursed. You should have kicked them both out when she showed up 2 hours late with this nigga. You ran the water to pretend you're washing your hands before going under the sink for the gun you have hidden there. Sticking the gun in the back of your pants you walked out with a slight scowl. "I got to cut tonight short. We're done here."

"What but we haven't gotten to the last chapter yet."

"Yeah I'm pretty tired. Picked up an early shift tomorrow and can't afford to be late." You lied with a smile and Tiana's eye twitched.

"Okay. We'll just have to finish another time then." She said grabbing her books. "Yeah. I'll get to you when I have an opening." She failed to conceal her annoyance as she let a sigh leave her lips. "Don't you want me to pay you?"

"On the house."

"In that case girl, I need you to hand over everything you got." Her friendly persona quickly dropped as Tay aimed a gun at you. You reached for your own and aimed back as you put distance between you and them.

"Don't fuck with me Tiana. Get the fuck out my house." You sneered as you noticed a shadow walk past the window. "Now."

"Look. I know you tight with Riri Williams. That bitch got people dropping bands to help them pass classes. Now all of a sudden yall fucking? I hear the gossip." She shouted as you began to back up. "There's a lot of students paying her Y/N. Meaning it's a shit ton of money. I just know she giving you a cut, so give it up and we'll leave."

"Bitch fuck you and your pansy ass side piece." You spat and her smile faded into a scowl. "I could always make Tay shoot yo ass hoe!"

"How many people you brought to my house?" Her expression switched to confusion for a split second and she scoffed, not even noticing your attention was on the door. "What? Why would I bring groupies to rob yo stupid ass?"

"So who the fuck is at my door?" You questioned and the two of them turned to look. You could see a figure standing there but you refused to run to check.

"How the fuck should I know? Tay tell them to come back later. We're in the middle of something." She said as Tay walked up to the door. He swung open the door to reveal someone dressed in a black cloak with a white mask.

"The fuck. Nigga it's a little early to be dressing up for Halloween. Look at this nigga bruh." Tay laughed and Tiana giggled behind her hand. "Look bruh you gotta go. We busy right now. But when we're done, you're more than welcome to take some more of her shit. We just want the money."

"Shut yo ass up Tay. You talk too damn much." Tiana sneered as you aimed your gun at her.

"Get. Out." She let her mask fall as fear crossed her features. Tay had the gun and he was preoccupied.

"Tay. Shoot this bitch. We'll just take what we want and leave her bleeding out on the floor." She spat before Tay gasped. We both turned to look at the door in time to see Tay drop the gun. He sounded as if he was trying to speak but weird gurgling sounds came out instead. "Tay quit playing!" Tay turned at the sound of her voice and your eyes widened. His throat had been slit and his hand held the cut to try and stop the bleeding but to no avail. The person at the door tilted their head and you bolted up the stairs, Tiana not far behind screaming her head off. You could hear the steps of the intruder as you ran to your room. Tiana locked herself in your hallway bathroom. You slipped under your bed with your pocket knife close. The house sat silent. Not a word was said. But you could hear the slow footsteps echoing throughout the hall. Black boots stopped in front of the bathroom door and they rattled the handle. Tiana screamed for them to stop but they continued to torment the girl. That was until a voice called out from downstairs. "Tiana! Oh shit, is that Tay? Fuck- Tiana!" The intruder dashed down the hall as Devon came up the stairs. "Devon. They're still out there! They killed Tay." Tiana’s voice cracked as she cried in the bathroom.

"What, who?" He asked, leaning into the door. "Unlock the door. There's no one out here." As the lock clicked she opened the door but the intruder chose to strike and bury their knife in his back. This one was different. Taller. Slimmer. Stronger. Devon shouted in pain as he was pushed into the bathroom. Between his shouts of pain and Tiana's screams of fear you put a hand over your mouth to silence your own sobs. Tiana slipped out the bathroom unscathed just to trip over her own feet. She crawled into your room before she was grabbed by the hair to lift her up off the floor. You locked eyes with her as the same knife that killed Tay, slid across her neck leaving a thick red line. She began choking on her own blood until she lay still on the floor. The intruders silently backed out of the room leaving you alone under the bed. Your carpet began to stain red the longer Tiana's body laid there. Moving from under the bed you quietly tried to reach the door and run yo ass up outta there. Fuck me.

You tiptoed down the steps trying to avoid tripping over Devon while searching for the masked intruder. When you reached the doorway a gloved hand reached out and wrapped around your neck and you stopped in your tracks. Staring into the dark voids of the mask you just stopped fighting and relaxed. You felt another presence behind you and looked up to see another mask. Tilting their head as they stared down at you, running a gloved finger down your neck.

"What's the matter ma, cat got your tongue?" The voice was distorted and you gave a small sigh. "Took you two long enough."

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