#you are SO GOOD at evoking emotions you have no idea

[windvexer]

Hey Chicken! I've got a decent grasp on the situation here but figured I'd put it out as a baby exercise to see what others would do in my place:

I work at a hospital that was built in 1911 and was turned into the trauma 1 in the last 10 years so pretty old and it's seen a lot. I've been a nurse for a little over a year now and I've already seen quite a bit of loss in every sense.

What I'm getting at is this hospital is overwhelmingly packed with energies and spirits. If I open my senses even the tiniest bit it feels like a freight train of emotions, senses, the whole gambit.

I have a decent mental ward up and can close my extra senses off completely so I only experience what everyone else does, which is still pretty paranormal but par for the course. The only time it bothered me was when some charts got thrown out of the cubby and caught me in the face.

So I guess I'm asking what you would suggest I do if I couldn't "shut the blinds" like I do? It can't be anything obvious in public bc I'd get reported by the predominantly Christian patients as trying to curse them or something.

An interesting case, perhaps some people on the dash will have ideas also :)

In a predominantly Christian area, I would advise enchanting a Christian cross to wear as protective jewelry. Although I don't really know the rules re. nurses and jewelry.

It is my experience that the powers of the Christian church are really very excellent at blocking out paranormal input and "closing the blinds" to spirits, especially the powers of the good Jesus Christ himself.

But you don't have to work with Christian powers to enchant a cross where the bottom leg is longer than the other three. You can evoke any protective magical powers you like and bind them to the cross.

All the crosses I am familiar with are very good at blocking things. I have not experienced anything special about Christian icons that stop them from being used effectively in witchcraft. On the contrary, they can be very effective.

However, it's reasonable for any particular person to not want to wear jewelry associated with a certain faith.

If that's the case, you can enchant any jewelry at all you want for the purpose; although in my beliefs, the less the physical form matches the work, the more work it takes to make it work.

[lovelyhan]

op i just wanted you to know how much i craved a proper, plot-driven story based on black eye and you've given me (and everyone else here) the best one we could ever ask for 😩😩

pretty lies - part eight

pairing: vernon x reader

rating/genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, band au

summary: supporting your friend mingyu becomes way more than you ever could have bargained for when you become involved with one of his bandmates

warnings: cussing, vernon has issues in this story but please remember this is a work of fiction, mingyu stans don’t hate me but mingyu and reader are just friends

word count: 3.8k

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You let yourself stay in bed all day Saturday, keeping your phone turned off as you curled yourself deeper into your sheets, taking whatever sleep you could find so you didn’t have to think about last night. By the time Sunday morning rolled around you still felt like shit, mind becoming overwhelmed whenever you thought about what had happened with Mingyu and Vernon. You still didn’t even know the results of the Battle of the Bands competition - you just couldn’t bear to think about any of it. You got up only to eat some leftovers from your fridge and use the bathroom before you retreated straight back into your bed, closing your eyes again and willing yourself back to sleep. This was your last day to hide from the world in self pity before you had to show your face at your job tomorrow. Maybe you would call in sick instead.

Later on Sunday afternoon you were awoken by what sounded like a knock on your door. You ignored it, assuming it was the delivery person or your neighbor or someone who was lost. Whoever it was, you really didn’t care because you weren’t going to answer it. But a few moments later you heard your front door open, and your eyes shot open in alarm. You started thinking about where the closest weapon-like object was, survival instinct kicking in before you heard a voice call out.

“Y/n? Are you here?” It was Mingyu.

You closed your eyes again, hiding under the covers. You forgot you’d given him your spare key in the event that you lost yours. 

Shit. Maybe he’ll assume I’m not here, you thought to yourself, trying to stay quiet.

“Should we check her job? Or that book store you mentioned?” That sounded like Jay.

“Hold on,” Mingyu said to Jay. You heard footsteps begin approaching your bedroom door, followed by a light knock, but you kept quiet.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, and you heard the door creak open shortly after. You willed your body and face to stay still as you felt him walk right over to your side of the bed.

“I know you’re awake right now,” Mingyu deadpanned.

“Go away,” you said, not even trying to pretend. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

“I wouldn’t have had to come here if you’d answered any one of my many texts and calls. You had me worried.”

“Why? According to you we’re not really friends.” You meant to say it with a hard tone, but your voice wavered at the end, much to your annoyance.

Mingyu sighed then, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I’m sorry y/n. That was a really stupid thing for me to say,” Mingyu began. “I was overwhelmed by everything that happened that night so when you told me you were dating Vernon…instead of being a supportive friend or checking to make sure you were ok I used the news as a replacement for my frustration about the competition…It wasn’t fair and I said a lot of things I didn’t mean - to you and Jay,” Mingyu looked back over at the other man, who gave him an appreciative nod in the doorway. “Things that were incredibly hurtful. It was wrong. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

You stayed silent, taking in his words.

“Are you still upset with me?” he asked like a scolded child, poking at the blankets wrapped around you. You only curled yourself into your covers more in response, not ready to give him the satisfaction of your forgiveness just yet.

“I brought chicken,” Mingyu said as a last resort.

Your face peeked out of the covers at his words, eyes narrowing.

“Stop lying.”

“When have I ever lied to you about food?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but…are we gonna eat soon? I’m hungry and this chicken smells goooooood man,” Jay’s voice butted in. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing out loud as Mingyu’s face became annoyed.

“Can’’t you see I’m trying to apologize like a good friend right now???”

“Sorry Jay,” you said, face settling into a tiny smile. “Just give me 20 minutes.”

—————

After you’d made yourself look relatively presentable, the three of you let yourselves eat in silence for awhile before you asked about the one thing that had been bothering you ever since they got there.

“So. What happened with Battle of the Bands?” you asked hesitantly. “Did they decide on a winner?” Jay and Mingyu looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu broke the silence.

“We lost.”

You looked at the two of them, sorrow flooding your face. You still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Mingyu, Jay - I’m so sorry. I swear I -”

“Stop. It’s not your fault so don’t even go there,” Mingyu said. “That crowd was out of control. And while I wish Vernon had handled it better, I’m glad that you’re ok first and foremost.”

“Even if it means you lost the competition? Your chance at pursuing music?” you asked regrettably. Mingyu sighed in response, nodding his head softly.

“Opportunities will come and go,” he said as he looked back at you calmly, “but nothing is worth risking your life or ruining our friendship over.”

You looked down silently, trying to take in Mingyu’s words. It was still hard to think about it, but you were growing to accept the fact that there was nothing you could have done in hindsight. While you wished you could have known all that being with Vernon would entail, that simply wasn’t possible. Nor could you hold yourself accountable for his actions. At this point you were just glad to have your friend back.

“Thanks Mingyu,” you said, sniffling a little as you gave him a tiny smile.

“Plus, not all is lost - check the BoB hashtag on your socials,” Jay offered.

You finally turned your phone back on, swiping through dozens of unread messages and notifications before you opened up the internet, typing in the hashtag and beginning to read. First you saw videos of the crowd surge and subsequent fight, watching Vernon jump down from the stage and push towards you before the punching began, which made you grimace. You paused the video before that part came on, reading some of the attached comments instead:

letsrave143: been complaining about this for years with #BoB. crowds getting crazier every year. do better please!!!

d0ntwannacry: was there and saw it happen just feet away. hey here’s an idea #BoB - can we turn this into a seated event please? and how about stop offering the 5 free drink tickets per person? people who can’t control themselves shouldn’t ruin the event for everyone else

bubbly_woozi: thank god artist saw and stopped performance. i don’t condone the punching tho.

You continued to scroll, finding comments attached to other videos of the guys performing:

iStantal3nt: the real winners. #RRD

livin4Drama: ok imma just say the quiet part out loud - no shade to @Kenzy but @RRD definitely should’ve won. too bad they were punished for that crzy incident. :(

RRDstanaccount: how many times is #BoB gonna invite @RRD for views but deny them their hard-earned win?

iDreaminCoolors: why tf is no one on the timeline talking about Visions by @RRD??? 1st time hearing and i sobbed

There were even videos going viral of judge reactions. One clip of Woozi in particular was gaining serious traction:

bubbly_woozi: get u someone who looks at u the way @_woozi does at @RRD

musicIslyfe: i need someone to get @RRD a meeting with @_woozi STAT. #BoB make it happen. the least you can do after robbing them -_-

junnyProd: @_woozi who’s got you smiling like that? give me a call and let’s chat. we still have to do a collab

“Holy shit - you guys are trending,” you said with wide eyes.

“That’s what I said!” Jay exclaimed, “But Mingyu keeps saying we shouldn’t put too much meaning in social media comments.”

“And I still stand by those words,” Mingyu said stubbornly. “But forget about all that, there’s another reason we came over,” he started, voice becoming a bit gentler. “Have you seen or heard from Vernon at all?” 

Your body tensed slightly at hearing his name. 

“You know I don’t mind that you two are dating right? You don’t need my permission or anything,” Mingyu followed up quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea as you nodded in understanding. “It’s just that we haven’t been able to get in contact with him since he left the competition. I don’t even think he’s sleeping at the apartment right now.”

Your brows creased with concern at hearing that. He wasn’t even coming home at night?

“I don’t know where he is,” you replied honestly. “He came by my place Friday night after the competition to make sure I was ok…but I was upset so I said some stuff and…things didn’t end so well. That was the last time I saw him,” you left it at that, a regretful look on your face.

“Shit. Y/n, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said, noticing the tinge of emotion in your voice.

“We’re just worried,” Jay said as Mingyu nodded along.

“I think we all know by now Vernon’s not the easiest guy to deal with,” Mingyu added. “And I know he’s been through some shit but he’s got some real talent so I’m trying to look out for him. I still wanna give him a chance, but if he keeps running away my hands are kind of tied,” he said regrettably.

“I get it,” you said. “And I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do. I hope he turns up soon.” You left the conversation at that, wanting to move on from the topic as quickly as possible. Mingyu took note, deciding not to push the subject.

The three of you finished up your food before beginning to clean up when Mingyu’s phone buzzed on your kitchen counter. You watched as he picked it up, face going from nonchalant to shocked in a matter of seconds as you watched his eyes flit back and forth, clearly reading something.

“Jay, come here for a second,” he motioned over to him. “Please tell me this isn’t a scam.”

Jay came over and looked at Mingyu’s phone, a grin spreading across his face after a few moments at what he saw.

“Nah man, that is indeed the real deal. I follow their account.”

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

Mingyu and Jay looked at each other, a mischievous glint in both their eyes before they just broke out into laughter.

“Ok, someone please tell me what’s going on right now,” you whined a little as you placed your hands on your hips, feeling left out.

“We just got a message from Woozi’s team,” Mingyu started. Your eyes widened. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Shut up - you’re fucking kidding right?” you asked incredulously.

Mingyu shook his head no, another laugh escaping his lips. 

“Well? What does it say?” You walked over quickly and looked down at his phone, not even waiting for a response.

“Dear members of Red Rock Day,” you began reading out loud. “We are representatives of Woozi’s team, reaching out on behalf of the artist to inquire about a potential collaboration. As you may know, Woozi was a guest judge during your performance at Battle of the Bands and has expressed an interest in working together on a new project as well as helping to make an official recording of your song Visions. Please let us know as soon as possible if you are interested. We look forward to your response.”

You practically jumped up and down after finishing the message. “Oh my god, this is amazing! I’m so happy for you guys,” you said ecstatically, pulling Mingyu and Jay into a big group hug.

“I told you things would work out,” Jay said serenely.

“We still have a problem though,” Mingyu said worriedly. You took a deep breath, having a feeling you knew where this was going. You released your hold on the guys, backing away slowly.

“Visions is Vernon’s song,” he continued. “We can’t do this without him - hell, we wouldn’t even be here without him. He has to hear about this.”

“I know…so what are you guys gonna do?” you asked.

Mingyu and Jay glanced at each other again before looking right back at you, a tentative question in their eyes.

“No way,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m not talking to Vernon.”

“But you know him better than any of us,” Mingyu tried.

“What makes you think that?” you pushed back. Mingyu only gave you a look of disbelief, and you couldn’t blame him. You didn’t even believe the words yourself as they came out of your mouth.

“He would never want to see me again after last night,” you tried to make a different case against the idea. “Not after I pushed him away.”

“I know I don’t really deserve to ask this of you after everything but…would you at least be willing to try?” Mingyu asked gently. “He won’t answer my or Jay’s calls or texts. We don’t have any other options and we can’t just wait around for him to show up now.”

You stood in silent frustration with your arms crossed, feeling like you were being trapped in a corner with nowhere to run.

“Y/n,” Jay started gently, “I think what we’re trying to say is that, you and Vernon clearly connected over the last few months. He felt safe enough with you to share the meaning of a song that he refused to talk about with Mingyu and I, even after we rehearsed it dozens of times together. I truly believe you would be the best person to convince him to come back - to record this. We owe it to him to let him know about this opportunity - to let him have a choice.”

In your heart you knew that they were right. Despite your falling out you still cared about Vernon. You knew he had dreams of songwriting, of making music just like Mingyu and Jay did, and you knew how much meaning the song Visions held. You would hate it if such an amazing opportunity was to slip through his fingers - through any of their fingers. Of course it would be up to Vernon at the end of the day, but he had to know in order to make a decision.

“Fine,” you said hesitantly. “I’ll do it.”

—————

Cellphone buzzing in your hand, you looked down to see a text from Mingyu:

Mingyu: i know this isn’t easy, and i appreciate what you’re doing right now. call me anytime if you need me.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to keep yourself calm as you continued to wait.

It was the following Monday after work, and you were sitting on a bench outside, just a few blocks from your office. You’d made yourself go in today rather than calling in sick, hoping that it would help to distract you a little, but you hadn’t been able to focus on even the simplest of tasks, too busy thinking about what you’d say when you saw Vernon - if you saw him. You had tried calling him several times after Mingyu and Jay left, but each time your phone would ring and ring until it reached his voicemail. For a moment you worried that maybe something had happened to him, but when you left a text explaining the opportunity and asking if the two of you could talk, you saw that the message was immediately marked as read, though he didn’t send anything back. You sent one more message, asking if he could meet you today after work where you were now. 

The spot was one you two would frequently pass by when you would go on your walks together. You still remembered how you and Vernon would stop at this same bench sometimes and sit, your head leaning against his shoulder, hands linked as you would look across at the adjacent river and watch as others passed by. Now spring was almost here, and with the extra hours of sunlight you watched as the sun slowly began it’s descent a tad later than usual, light hitting the ripples of water serenely as birds chirped and newly grown petals wafted by, carried by the light breeze. You weren’t sure if Vernon would come, but you’d found yourself hoping he would. The more you’d had time to think the more you realized you didn’t like the way you’d left things the last time you spoke. 

You felt him before you saw him - that smoky smell and the sound of heavy footsteps that seemed to walk a path and a pace that was in defiance of the rest of the crowd. He sat unceremoniously next to you on the bench, the two of you focusing on the river rather than looking at each other.

“How are you?” you started after a couple beats of silence, realizing he wasn’t going to speak first.

“Fine.”

You looked down before finally glancing over at him. He was clad in a worn denim jacket and jeans, hands shoved deep in his pockets. You could still see bruising all around his eye as he continued staring out at the water, his nose scrunching a little as the breeze drifted through the hair on his forehead.

“Mingyu told me you didn’t come home the last few nights. I was worried.”

“I just needed to get away for a bit. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Ok,” you said softly. “Well, did you see my text about the collaboration opportunity?”

Vernon stayed silent for a moment, looking down as if he was upset.

“Why’d you really ask me to come here?” he asked another question instead of answering, turning to look directly at you. You nervously looked away. It was a fair point - you already knew he’d read your texts. That could have been the end of it, though it hadn’t felt right to leave it at that - not when you thought about the last time you’d talked. If you were being honest, you regretted some of the things you’d said - or at least, the way you’d said them.

“I just - I thought it would be a good idea to meet in person again so we could…could -”

“Could what?” he prodded you on, and you could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice.

You let out another deep breath.

“Vernon…I’m sorry for how things went the last time we spoke. The guilt I had about hiding our relationship, the argument I had with Mingyu…I took it out on you and a lot of it wasn’t fair. If I could go back and say things differently I would, but still…” you started softly, thinking back to your fight and everything else that had happened, finally turning to face him again, voice becoming dry as you swallowed nervously. As amazing as some moments with Vernon had been, it all became tainted when you thought about the anger he still held inside of his heart - the parts of him that he hadn’t let heal, refused to even.

“I don’t think this is working.” Your heart fell as you watched him register your words in full, eyes going from hope to despair in a matter of seconds.

“You don’t mean that,” he insisted, shaking his head in denial at those last few words. But as he saw the pity in your eyes, your lips formed into a tight line, he began to panic, his entire body turning towards yours to face you fully.

“Look, I’m sorry for leaving last night - for getting upset, ok?” Vernon said apologetically, a hand rubbing the back of his head. “And I know I haven’t done shit perfectly but I promise I can be better. I’ll be on my best behavior when I’m with you - I promise. Just please don’t leave,” he began to plead.

You shook your head, eyes becoming watery as you looked at him miserably.

“Don’t you see that’s part of the problem? You have to be better for yourself Vernon. Not for me or for anyone else - for you.”

You began to get up from the bench, collecting yourself as Vernon stood up with you. The sun had almost set at this point, the sky becoming a deep amber color mixed with shades of purple.

“Please, don’t -” he stumbled over his words as he tried to calm himself. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me. Fuck - I don’t wanna be alone again,” he begged, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry,” you said, a tear falling from your eye. You gently wiped it away with the back of your hand. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Well you’re hurting me right now - this fucking hurts.” Vernon’s eye was throbbing in pain at this point but he couldn’t care less about it - not when you were breaking his heart. Nothing could be more painful.

“I’m sorry.”

He looked at you for a few more moments with furrowed brows, waiting for the moment you would change your mind. Say you didn’t mean it, tell him you loved him, that you would never leave him. But you stood your ground, having clearly made up your mind. There was nothing else he could do. He began to turn away from you, unable to face you anymore as tears began to blur up his sight.

“Wait. Vernon.” He stopped, back still facing you.

“I know I shouldn’t ask but - just promise me you’ll record Visions,” you said tearfully. “There are people out there that need to hear it. I don’t want you to hide in silence anymore.”

He looked down for a moment before focusing back on the path, beginning to briskly walk away from you.

—————

You drove back home, not regretful of your decision but still incredibly sad. Just because you’d ended things with Vernon didn’t mean it had been easy. You weren’t sure you were ever going to forget the way he’d looked at you when you’d said sorry, face contorted in a pain that came from somewhere far deeper than the bruises on his face.

Once you’d made it home all you wanted to do was shower and get in your bed, but within minutes of taking off your coat your phone started ringing - it was Mingyu. “Shit,” you muttered, mind going back to the other reason you’d reached out to Vernon. Mingyu and Jay had been depending on you to convince him to agree to record. You knew it would be an amazing opportunity for all of them, including Vernon, and a part of you wondered if your breaking up would jeopardize that, but you tried to remind yourself that now that he knew about it, it was out of your control. You had to do what was best for you, and you just hoped that Vernon would do the same. You waited a few rings before finally answering the call, another apology on your lips as you readied your explanation, prepared for the worst.

“I don’t know what you said y/n, but he agreed. We’re really gonna work with Woozi,” Mingyu immediately said without leaving you in suspense. You could hear just how shocked he was, still unable to believe it was all real.

“I’m…I’m glad,” you said, also in a bit of shock, voice barely audible. As one realization was hitting Mingyu in full force, a different one had begun to sink itself into your bones now that you could no longer fixate on the collaboration. Somehow Vernon agreeing to record despite your relationship ending made you feel even worse. It really was over between the two of you.

“Y/n? Are you ok? Tell me what’s wrong,” Mingyu asked, noticing the tone of your voice. All you could do was give a deep sigh in response.

“Did he do anything to you?” he asked with concern. “‘Cause if he did I swear I’ll -”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you interrupted with a shake of your head even though Mingyu couldn’t see you, tears beginning to fall from your eyes.

“I - I told him I couldn’t be with him anymore and I just -” you began sobbing, unable to hold it in anymore. Your heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

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taglist: @twogyuu @yourfavoritefreakyhan

[james-stark-the-writer]

sometimes the way you people talk about Riverdale really makes me feel like you guys are anti-art lmao

[explorevenus]

my soul to keep ♡ vampire!leon kennedy x virgin!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: romantic vampire leon, virgin/innocent f!reader, leon turns reader into a vampire, some religious allegory, bloodplay (obviously), gravedigging, some gory descriptions but not a whole lot, one instance of overeating (reader's learning, leave her alone </3), manipulation kinda, praise, fingering, p in v, creampie

description: leon creeps into your village at night for a quick drink, only to find himself infatuated with an angel like you. it's a good thing he possesses the means to preserve you for himself.

a/n: yes this is the vampire leon fic i started like a year ago don't look at me <33 i'm just proud of myself for getting it finished before halloween this year AAAAAAAA

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

The last time Leon remembered feeling this alive, well… he was still living, and that was a long time ago. When lonely and undead as long as Leon has been, it can be difficult to show restraint upon first contact with anything that evokes such emotion. 

But he did, for a while. You were just too cute, he thought as he stood over your slumbering body that first night. It wasn’t something he liked to make a habit of, but a light hunting season for him meant starvation through the winter, and he didn’t have much choice but to go wandering into the nearby little village for a quick bite to eat. 

Until he found you. 

You looked like a cherub sleeping there in your plush little bed, buried beneath a quilt he could only assume you made yourself. Precious, fragile. You looked especially fragile. 

And humans are so fragile, he thought. You smelled so sweet, it made his teeth ache just standing there staring at you without acting upon his festering need to sate his appetite, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to scare you, or worse, lose control of himself and kill you. 

He wandered silently around your little cottage in hopes of learning more about you. It was tidy but lived in, well-kept in a way that made him think you were probably a good homemaker. Your old leather boots sat by the door, dirtied by years of garden work and general wear. There was a little handmade ceramic candle holder on your bedside table, the candle in it burned nearly down to the base, and he wondered if maybe you’d held onto it because the piece was sentimental to you. Carefully arranged bouquets of flowers were strung together and hung up above the cracked window, likely to dry them out and preserve them. 

And suddenly he realized that maybe he would like to preserve a flower for himself. 

He couldn’t allow himself to feed from anyone in your village that night. If word spread around about a vicious animal attack or some other form of brutality, it would only hinder his ability to ultimately get to you, and he couldn’t risk that. Weak and delirious and ravenously hungry as he was, Leon forced himself to bid you adieu and stalk off into the night, back to his crumbling old castle in the middle of the woods… but not before leaving you a gift. 

His gift. The gift.

Your lips parted in a dreamy sigh as you slept, rolling over onto your back. He admired your face for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore— if he didn’t leave now, you were going to become dinner, and he couldn’t have that. Hastily, he bit down on the meat of his palm and squeezed, watching as his old crimson blood bubbled up to the surface, and then he held it up over you.

Drip. Right between your rosy, plush lips. Even in your slumber your face scrunched up at the foreign taste, your heavy arm coming up to swipe at yourself like you were just trying to get your hair out of your eyes.

And just like that, he was gone, having taken his leave through the very same open window that gave him the idea. 

He wasn’t a monster, of course. He kept an eye on you as you experienced the very same pain he felt decades ago. 

The next day, you woke up later than usual feeling quite lousy. Your whole body was sore and weighty and, reasonably enough, you chalked it up to poor form while tending your garden the day before. It was an easy mistake to make from time to time, after all. But as the day dragged on, you only felt worse, so you retired to bed right after supper that evening. 

The day after that, you woke up in the early afternoon feeling awful. Your head was screaming with a migraine and your heart was beating slow and hard in your chest. You were sweating and shaking and could barely even open your eyes because the light hurt so bad. A friend stopped in to check on you after noticing how late of a start to the day you were getting, and almost as soon as she stepped in the door, she was rushing back out to the apothecary, begging the village healer to come check on you. 

The village healer loaded you up with tricks and tinctures and anything she could think of to break your fever or at least ease your pain. Dried herbs and poppyseeds and fungus ground up in the mortar and pestle, the paste slathered under your nose, on the bottoms of your feet, steeped into tea that was too hot for you to drink. None of it worked. At a loss for advice to give, the village healer urged you to drink plenty of water and rest, and to quarantine yourself. Couldn’t risk passing whatever you had to the rest of the community. 

You woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and didn’t even have time to throw your quilt aside as you doubled over the side of your bed and vomited. This continued for a few moments until you could barely breathe, tears dripping from your eyes as your face reddened with strain and you inwardly resented yourself, knowing you would have to drag your sick body out of bed to clean up the mess you’d just made. You struck a match and lit the candle at your bedside and hesitantly peered down to survey the damage, only to be met with the image of your beautiful wooden floors drenched in blood. Reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand yielded the same result. 

As you stared at your own blood in horror, Leon stared at you in adoration from the other side of the window. For a moment your bleary eyes caught on the glass and he wondered if you saw him, but if you did, you didn’t react. 

Even at a distance he could hear your heartbeat continuing to weaken. Soon enough you would be just like him, a beautiful preserved flower, and better yet, you couldn’t be harmed. You wouldn’t change, you wouldn’t grow, you wouldn’t die.

Although your village certainly thought you did. It was a dreary, overcast day when the village healer decided to stop in and check on you, only to find you completely lifeless and splattered with blood where you laid. She had to be the one to break it to your family that you had lost your battle with whatever illness plagued you. Leon watched from the shadows as your father lifted your limp, blood-soaked body from your bed and held you close, sobbing, hesitating to admit to himself that you were gone.

By the end of the afternoon, as the sun went down and the drizzling rain refused to let up, the entire village was standing over your grave, watching you get lowered into the soft, soggy ground. 

Once everyone had paid their respects, Leon watched them all retreat to share a drink in your honor, hushed whispers revealing just how unsettled everyone was by your untimely demise. You were so young, they said, so bright and healthy and undeserving of your fate. They wondered what it meant for themselves, and only Leon knew it didn’t mean anything at all. Your illness wasn’t going to spread because he had what he wanted now, and that was you. 

As soon as the final candle was blown out for the night, Leon took a shovel from your garden and began to dig, the metal piercing easily through the soaked earth until it revealed the handmade box you’d been laid to rest in. He popped the top off and looked at you, your arms still crossed delicately over your chest with a beaded rosary tucked beneath your palms, a pale flower in your hair. Your family didn’t need to know they’d be spending the rest of their lives praying over an empty coffin in the ground. 

Leon scooped you up into his arms, cleaned up after himself and set off into the woods with you clutched to his chest like a princess.

It was a few days before you finally roused. Leon had barely taken his eyes off of you the entire time you slept, and admittedly, he was a bit grateful it had taken you so long, for your own sake. He watched over you and cared for you as the last of your body heat drained out and your fangs descended behind your lips. From what he remembered, that was the most painful part of the transformation, and you were lucky to have slept through the worst of it. 

When your eyes finally shot open, he could barely contain his excitement. In one swift movement you sat up on the couch, bringing one hand up to clutch at your pounding head, the other massaging your sore jaw as your worried eyes darted around the room to drink in your surroundings. Then and only then did your gaze finally land on Leon. 

The fright and confusion on your face were evident. He knew you would have a lot of questions, and he was prepared to answer them. 

“There you are, darling,” he greeted you warmly, the first words he’d ever spoken to you. “How are you feeling?”

"W-Where am I?" You rasped, throat sore and shot from vomiting up blood the other day. Once your new condition fully set in, you would heal, but for now you were still a touch miserable. "Who are you?"

“I’m Leon,” he was gentle in introducing himself, taking your cold, shaking hand in his own so he could brush a polite kiss over your knuckles, “and this is your new home.” 

You blinked slowly at him, brows furrowed as you mulled over what he meant, and you came up short. Tears welled up in your bloodshot eyes and you hesitated for a moment before asking him a question you were afraid to know the answer to; “Am I… Did I die?” 

Leon wasn’t quite sure how to answer that at first. He imagined that question being posed much later in the conversation, so it sort of caught him off guard. He took a breath and then replied gently, “Something like that, yes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Shh, don’t worry,” he whispered, kneeling on the floor beside the couch so he could get on your level, his cold, pale fingers tracing gently over your lifeless skin. “You’re safe, your family is safe, your village is safe. I’m just here to take care of you, my beloved, to guide you in this tricky space between life and death. Do you trust me?” 

Strangely enough, you did-- or, rather, you felt compelled to. 

But that didn’t make the implications of your condition any easier on you. You were such a frightened little lamb, your cheeks hollowing and your eyes glowing like rubies and your skin tone taking on more and more of a pallid quality by the day as you refused to feed. He knew you would have some difficulty with this at first— after all, you were just far too sweet to kill anything— but he also knew you would only become weaker and more agitated if you continued to starve, and perhaps more grim, you would remain stuck in this odd limbo between death and vampirism. 

He tried everything he could think of. You wouldn’t drink animal blood, from the body or in a glass, and you certainly refused human blood in either form too. Every time he broached the topic of sating your hunger you would cower away from him and shake your head, eyes screwed shut as you continued to deny the reality of your situation. Starvation brought forth only misery, that much Leon knew, misery and longing and weakness and worse, everything he didn’t want for you. 

For two weeks you pushed back on the topic, insisting that if you couldn’t truly die, you would rather starve than take the life of another. As much as it pained him to see you this way, Leon appreciated that you could be so stubborn about your morals. He just wished it wouldn’t come at the cost of your own well-being.

He left you at the castle one night to go hunting himself. It wasn’t often he’d stumble into humans in these woods, especially during the winter, but he hoped he would get lucky for himself anyway. Leon burned a few hours stalking through the trees and all he had to show for it when he returned home was a few small animals that wouldn't last him more than two light meals, but it was better than nothing, he thought.

Then he stepped through the creaking castle doors and his nose perked up to the familiar rich scent of human blood-- thick and heady in the air, cloyingly sweet and indulgent. Intoxicated by it for the moment, it didn’t really dawn on him immediately what that meant… until he followed the scent from the foyer to the living room and found you. 

You were on your knees in front of the fireplace, hunched over the writhing body of the village healer, her eyes wide and glassy as she choked out gurgled sounds of agony and clawed weakly at you to let her go. You didn’t even seem to notice Leon as he entered the room, a concerned grimace on his face, though it was accompanied by a tangible sense of relief that you were finally feeding. 

“Sweetheart,” he said lowly, causing you to blink with confusion and look up at him through your lashes, the poor village healer’s carotid still clenched tightly between your teeth. “Easy now, you’ll make yourself sick.” 

Your brows furrowed and you bit down a little bit harder, siphoning out a few final greedy gulps from the woman before dropping her from your grasp, your eyes still trained on Leon as her weak body flopped limply to the floor. His eyes softened with empathy as he looked you over, gore dribbling down your chin and the front of your white dress, your stomach puffy like an engorged tick. Now that you weren’t feeding anymore it would seem you made the same realization he had, the fog of desire clearing in your brain to make room for the shame and discomfort. With a soft whimper, you reached for him with both arms outstretched, but otherwise didn’t move. 

Leon gave you a nod of understanding before scooping you up into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he carried you out of the parlor. “My poor baby,” he sighed softly, “It gets easier, I promise. I’m so proud of you.” 

He ran a hot bath for you and left you to soak for a while as he got to work cleaning up the mess you’d made. The village healer was barely clinging to what remained of her life, and while he was extremely tempted to nurse her back to health and keep her around to continue feeding on, he knew it would hurt you. He could already tell you hated yourself for victimizing her in the first place, the very same woman who’d tried so hard to save your life just weeks ago and who was responsible for ensuring the health of the entire village, which included your friends and family. 

So he mopped up the blood, bottled what he could and wrapped her wounds to the best of his ability before compelling her to forget, dumping her just at the edge of the trees outside the village so someone would find her in the morning.

When he returned again, tired and dirtied from hauling an unconscious woman through the woods on your behalf, you were still relaxing in the tub. The water was tinted pink from all the blood and you still looked a bit swollen in the middle, but the color was returning to your skin and the expression on your face was one of such complete exhaustion that he wasn’t sure if you were actually conscious at first, until your gaze fluttered up to meet his. 

Leon let out a deep, sweet sigh, sitting on the bench beside the porcelain clawfoot bath as he took your hand in his and whispered, “What am I going to do with you, huh?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you said just as quietly, bottom lip quivering as you continued to drift back down from your blood-induced daze. “I d-didn’t want to h-hurt her…” 

“Shh, shh, I know, darling,” his other hand came forward to pet gently through your wet hair. “She’s going to be alright, I made sure of that. But this can’t happen again, okay? I’ll help you get control of your urges, I promise, but you have to listen to me.” 

You were nodding along as he spoke, clutching his hand and shivering in the hot bath. Even transformed you were still fragile. Leon wanted nothing more than to care for you like the fine china you were.

It was fun watching you learn how to walk, so to speak. You were like a baby deer, taking careful steps and looking back at him for reassurance after each one, like his guidance was all you could think to cling to. While your gingerly approach to things was incredibly endearing, he loved watching you grow to love your new abilities with an innocent sense of excitement that he hadn’t seen in a long time, not in himself or in anyone else, really. 

You’d taken to exploring the rafters and the view of things from the ceiling, leaving the candles in your room unlit all night just so you could bask in how odd and cool it felt to see so well in the dark. It scared the moonlight out of him every time, when he would scour every inch of the castle in search of you just to find you perched criss-cross on the ceiling, lost in a lengthy novel in a pitch black room. 

But he would never scold you, never tell you ‘no.’ In his mind that was a very important lesson for you to learn, one that would open you up to endless possibilities and happiness in an otherwise bleak state of consciousness. 

So, when your small voice chimed in from the parlor ceiling one night and startled him more than he’d like to admit, and you asked him a deceptively simple question– “What now?”-- he knew exactly how he wanted to respond. 

“Indulge,” he said just as simply, sitting calmly down on the chaise lounge to look up at you, hanging from the rafters by your knees. “Let me ask you this. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You took pause, humming in thought for a moment. All your life you were never much of a forward thinker because you didn't really have to be. You lived your little old life moment by moment, taking extra special care to appreciate the here and now. You had good friends, a loving family, a beautiful community, food on your plate and a warm bed to return home to every night. That didn’t leave you wanting for much.

Finally, you spoke shyly, "I guess I always wanted to fall in love."

It was so quiet, if he was still human, he wouldn’t have heard you. But he wasn’t, and he did. The corner of his lip tugged up into an endeared and somewhat amused expression, baring the sharp edge of his right canine. 

Leon adjusted his posture, sinking back into the couch to gaze up at you, trying to pretend like he wasn’t looking between your legs where your upside-down position left your skirt flipped up nearly to your waist. He cleared his throat softly and cooed, “You poor thing, you’ve never loved before?” 

Your face burned and you avoided his eyes, stretching your arms out toward the floor just to give yourself something to do. “N-No,” you began, smoothing your skirt out over your thighs just to watch it ride up again. With a short huff of breath you pulled yourself back up into a normal sitting position on the rafters, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just never had the chance.” 

“What, not enough fish in your little pond?” He teased, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

You laughed, appreciating the way he eased the tension, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I mean, yeah, the dating pool made for a better puddle.” 

“I figured as much.” 

A comfortable silence blanketed over the parlor, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fireplace. You swung your feet idly back and forth, watching the warm flame as you asked aloud, “So… What does it feel like, then?” 

“What does what feel like?” He responded, but he knew what you meant. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Y’know…” You kicked your frilly socked feet, “Love?” 

“Well, sweetheart, that’s quite a broad question,” Leon began, patting the space next to him in an attempt to beckon you down from the rafters, and to his delight, the gesture succeeded. You dropped gracefully to the ground and fixed your skirt before curling up beside him on the other side of the couch, your legs tucked up beneath you. You couldn’t possibly be more adorable if you tried.

As you situated yourself at his side, he continued, “There are many different kinds of love. You love your family, and you love your friends, but you don’t love your family in the same way you love your friends, and vice versa. Correct?"

He watched your expression for a moment to ensure you were following along, and surely enough, you were. Your posture was relaxed but you remained dutifully at attention, just like a good little doll should.

Leon felt a pang of pride when you nodded.

“It’s the same thing, just a different kind of love. I’m not sure I know how to describe it, really,” he said, tracing his fingertips along your knee casually. “But I could show you?” 

“Show me?” Your head tilted with that innocent curiosity he loved so much about you, and his heart melted all over again. “Show me how?” 

He said something lowly and it took you a second to register it because right after, he took your chin in his hand and drew you in for a kiss. Only after your lips collided did your brain recognize his words as, ‘Like this.’ 

With one hand cradling the back of your head and the other still tracing little shapes on your leg, Leon’s embrace felt all-consuming and overwhelmingly safe. Through it all, you really did trust him. Your fangs knocked together as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, making your head spin and your brows furrow in concentration. It felt incredible, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, but the nerves kept you tense and you couldn’t help but fear you were doing a poor job. 

So you let him lead. You resigned yourself to the feeling of his cold lips on your own and his tongue exploring your waiting mouth, his broad hands keeping you pressed against him and feeling slowly up the length of your thigh. His touch made you shiver and tingle in unfamiliar but exhilarating ways and when he eventually pulled away, you were left panting for breath and wanting for more. 

He watched your face in an attempt to gauge how you were feeling, and it was evident you enjoyed it. Leon felt a rush knowing he had effectively just turned a new leaf in your training. 

You had finally learned to walk. Now it was time for you to sprint. 

Leon brushed your hair away from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. He’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to sink his teeth into you. He wished he could have tasted you fresh, when you were still living, but he would settle for the alternative, and truthfully, it didn't even feel like settling. Especially not when your syrupy sweet blood hit his tongue and pulled a deep, guttural moan from the core of him, his pearlescent eyes rolling back in a display of momentarily mindless rapture. It was unexpectedly hot to see him react to you in such a way. No one had ever expressed such intense need for you, and you were so hung up on it that you barely noticed your thighs subtly shifting together.

But Leon was observant as ever, of course, the movement in no way making it past his keen attention-- you were too precious, too virginal for your own good. He wanted to ruin you, he wanted to tear you apart piece by piece and savor you like holy communion, to pump your undead heart with his own two hands until the end of time, his beautiful baby, his fragile little doll, his corpse bride, his darling and beloved consort.

You were both gasping for breath as he pulled away from your throat, remnants of your tart cherry blood smudged around his pallid lips. Blessed be the gift of undeath, Leon thought to himself, for it granted him the ability to feed from you without consequence-- and vice versa-- to strengthen your bond in the most intimate way imaginable time and time and time again. It still made you dizzy, of course, light and a bit tingly all over, but Leon didn't see that as a bad thing, and as it stood, you didn't seem to either. 

He was just trying to come up with a smooth way to tempt you into tasting his own blood, but found himself pleasantly surprised by your initiative. 

"Can I try?" You practically purred, your sweet voice all hushed and breathy as your dainty little hand crept up his shoulder, palm coming to rest at the leftmost side of his strong neck. 

As you caressed the pad of your thumb over the icy expanse of his skin, you couldn't help but notice the faint, scarred over marks that were dotted about, barely-there dips and craters telling a story that suggested decades of indulgence like this, decades of past lovers, and your heart inexplicably clenched in your chest. Suddenly you were overtaken with the desire to leave your own mark there, much more prominent and recent than any of those faded old others. 

Leon was quick to give you his consent, of course, and that was all it took for your mind to snap into a completely different mode of function. The highest points of your mouth were flooding with saliva and the lowest points were pooling with it, slicking your puffy lips as your tongue fell forward to drag a deep, wanton lick up the length of his cold carotid. Then, as anticipated, you helped yourself to a healthy bite of him. 

And just like that, you had discovered a new infatuation, as he knew you would. You were bonding yourselves to one another in real time, creating a connection that not even true death could break. 

You nearly went weak with how overwhelming it felt, like drinking down pure heaven, hardly even noticing you were moving for a moment as you crawled mindlessly into his lap to straddle him, grinding deep and slow. The pheromones in his sap made your head spin, bringing about the kind of spontaneous sensuality that you'd only ever felt after one too many glasses of mead, the kind that loosened your bones and tinged at your cheeks, the kind that called warmth to bloom at the pit of your stomach. 

The flavor of him was coppery and rich, but balanced, a bit dull from undeath but otherwise magnificent. That it was faint only made you want for more. 

"Easy, easy," Leon grunted quietly in your ear, reaching a hand up to card through your hair at the back of your head. "Don't drink too fast, little princess... just breathe..."

But it would seem you weren't really listening to him, and that needed to change. Thankfully, Leon knew just the way to grasp your attention. 

Letting one arm slip between your two bodies, he wedged his hand down, down, down, until it dipped beneath your skirt to close his palm over the sticky cotton of your panties. That you were already leaking through the fabric like a busted faucet was perfect. You were an absolutely perfect little untouched virgin, and thanks to him, your body would remain that way forever, ripe for his plucking.

Bringing down some pressure on your clit with the base of his palm, testing your reaction, he reveled in the way you whimpered on his throat and unlatched to finally suck in a breath, rutting to meet his attention without a second thought, so easily captivated by such slight stimulation. He couldn't wait to show you more, but he'd need to work you open first. He didn't want your first time to be painful, after all. 

Leon took you at the waist and moved to put you on your back, hovering above your spread out form on the chaise lounge and pinning you there in the most delicate way possible. Every bit of that attention to detail paid off. 

"My precious doll... my most delicate princess," he sighed reverently, stooping low to breathe you in at the neck again, laving his tongue over the bite he'd left just moments ago. "This is what true love feels like, and I wish to share it with you for eternity..." 

He let you ponder that as he continued, working you carefully out of your clothes, finding it cute how you seemed to shift and arch along with him to help him get you naked, like you just couldn't wait. In your pretty doe eyes, your undead life had just begun. 

It was a bit strange at first, feeling his finger sink into you, but it wasn't long before Leon was seeking out your soft spots and doing an excellent job of it, no less. He curled and pumped one finger carefully in you until he was sure you were comfortable, until he felt any remaining tension in your muscles melt away, and then he introduced a second. You were so wet and so absorbed by the feeling of it all that you almost didn't notice at first, but that delicious stretch was impossible to miss. 

"O-Oh," you quivered, head falling back against the plush velvet beneath you as you bucked into his hand. 

With an appreciative hum, Leon allowed himself to become a little less careful with his ministrations, watching your reactions with interest as he worked you open on his fingers, his infatuation with you growing more and more with every moan and whine, every flutter of your silky walls. 

"There you go, little one," he cooed, "you like that, don't you?"

Your response was barely more than an airy nod, but it delighted him anyway. How could it not? You were just too sweet for words, too cute to handle. You could've done or said anything in that moment and he would have adored it all the same. 

Nipping playfully at your throat, fingers still pumping dutifully in and out of your drippy cunt, his lips trailed up to your ear so he could ask in a sultry whisper, "Think you can take more?"

The next several seconds were a blur of impassioned movement, each of you weaving around one another to shed the elder vampire of his own ensemble, revealing his carved marble frame piece-by-piece. You were amazed by the strength in his shoulders, how smooth and soft his skin was from being kept away from the sun for so long, the dark blonde trail of hair that disappeared below his belt, only for its path to be revealed upon the long-awaited removal of his trousers. 

Leon's cock was painfully hard, tip flushed red and weeping with milky beads of precum as he freed himself from his confines at last. He felt the intense need to give it a few strokes with how pent up he was at this point, but he didn't see a point in wasting any time pleasuring himself when you were right there, skirt hiked up to your waist while you laid there panting and leaking your arousal all over his nice furniture. With a pout that pretty, it would be a disservice not to fuck you until you cried. 

He angled your hips with one hand and lined himself up with the other, pushing in slowly. Your expression screwed tight for a short moment as the swollen head of him caught at your hole, an opportune moment of distraction for him to sink in deeper, stretching you out until he hit the root, drawing a shocked cry from your throat that gave way to a pleasured whine just as quickly as it came. 

So he began to move, wanting to draw out that gorgeous sound for as long as you would allow him to hear it. Your cunt was so fucking tight, pulsing and squeezing around his shaft like you were made for it, made for him, delivered to him by fate so that he might just get to fuck you like this forever and ever, and in that moment, he knew he made the right choice in sharing his gift with you. For the first time in recent memory, the future felt bright. 

"L... L-Leon..." You babbled, hooking one leg over his hip for purchase just to find out it allowed him to prod that much deeper. You went boneless at the feeling, finding strength only in your ability to claw at his shoulders for dear life, the faint scent of his blood lingering in the air and making your head spin. "Feels... g-good... so good... don't stop..." 

He wouldn't dream of it. 

Fingertips printing into your thighs, he pulled your legs up to rest over his shoulders instead, driving you down into the soft couch in a firm mating press. You were nose to nose, needy lips catching and fangs clacking between filthy words and gasps for breath as you felt his presence envelope you fully. Leon was in you, on you, around you...

Leon was your home now. Leon was where you laid to rest. 

For the first time in your undead life, you felt your body licking with heat, temperature rising steadily at the pit of you and threatening to hit a fever pitch. Every inch of him lit you up from the inside. 

"Oh, my baby," he groaned, letting go of you with one hand just to swipe his silvery blonde hair away from his face so he could gaze at you like a work of art. "You're getting close, aren't you? Squeezing me so tight like that..."

"Yeah," you whined, even though you weren't fully sure what it even felt like to be close. You weren't dumb, you knew what orgasms were, you'd just never had one yourself, and as such, you had no basis for comparison. 

Leon aimed to fix that, to make damn sure you familiarized yourself with the feeling over the course of your shared eternity. 

His thrusts picked up with renewed vigor, the legs of the old chaise lounge scratching against the hardwood floors with every push forward, and he didn't even care. Everything else about life felt so worthless in comparison to you, the new center of his universe. The whole entire house could collapse and he would still be content, so long as he had you. 

And every time he remembered that he did have you, that you were here with him right now, squirming and rutting on his cock so beautifully, that he was all you had... it just drove him that much crazier, made him that much more determined to make your first time one you would never forget. He couldn't be happier to spend the entire rest of his endless life topping the last performance. 

You were losing your grip, struggling to keep your eyes open and eventually sinking your itching fangs into what you could reach of his throat just to push yourself a little higher, a little closer. The flavor alone made you purr against his skin, jaw clenching tighter, and the delicious sting of it was pushing him forward too. Now his biggest concern wasn't just making sure you came, but making sure that you came first. 

So he withheld, even as his balls drew up tight and ached to release, focusing instead on getting you there. 

"Don't be shy, princess, I've got you," Leon moaned into your ear, "let it happen... just let it happen..." 

Tears pricked at your eyes, the overabundance of stimulation rendering you down into a tearful little puddle, but it wasn't until he spoke up to encourage you that you realized you really were holding back, stalling yourself at the precipice like it was wrong to let go.

But it wasn't wrong. It was divine. It was indulgent.

Sucking back a mouthful of his blood, you unlatched from Leon's neck just to press your forehead against his own, your jaw stuck open in stilted whines and gasps for breath as that molten heat in your belly finally boiled over, and you discovered exactly what it was you were close to. 

Your spine drew up into an arch, toes curling over his shoulders as you came on his length with a cry, thighs trembling with strain. Leon had never been baptized before, but it felt like he was just now. He'd never felt so close to God as he allowed himself to finish deep inside your perfect pussy. 

You collapsed together in the afterglow, the parlor going quiet again as you both caught your breath and your bearings, a heaping pile of mess on velvet.

"Leon," you whispered, kissing some of the excess blood away from his cold skin as you innocently and earnestly admitted, "I... I think I love you." 

He cracked a fond smile at this, if only because he knew you would catch up in time. After all, you still had much to learn, and he didn't want to overwhelm you more than he already had for one evening. 

"I love you too, little one."

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being An Assassin Who Joins The team

A/N: I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA :D I have so many ideas attached to it, so many posts brewing, so I really hope you like it!!! I kinda think of it similar to Red Room from MCU and also the Aunts from The Handmaid's Tale, if that makes any sense lol. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher likes you. He sees the emotion you evoke from the rest of the team and he thinks you're a perfect fit. You're not sure what to think of him. If he was one of your siblings, he wouldn't have lasted long. Selfish, arrogant, self-righteous. That's the kind of thing that got you punished, that got you killed. Beneath it though, to a degree, you can tell he really cares for everyone. It might be twisted and warped and at this point unrecognizable, but it was there. He enjoys hearing about your kills, especially when it was Supes. You weren't just good at what you did, you were the best. You were creative, too. Imaginative. He brags to you about killing Translucent, how they did it. You're not terribly impressed, but for his benefit you put on a show. You're a little weird, but he likes that. You're except in some areas (like going undercover) and mediocre in others (like figuring out how to befriend Hughie). He doesn't judge what you've done. It's just how you were raised. He tries to do a background check on you, but there's nothing. The name your mentors gave you wasn't the one your parents, if there even were parents, gave you. You were a blank slate. It was both riveting and terribly dangerous.

Hughie has the most questions. He can see just from your appearance, all the scars on your face and neck, all the ones he can't see, that you've been to hell and back. You hold yourself rigid, tight. Even when you seem relaxed you aren't. You're constantly looking for the nearest exit or weapon, scanning every room you walk into. It spooks him a little. He lets his imagination get the better of him, something he knows he shouldn't do, but just can't help it. You like Hughie instantly. And not just because he's too awkward and frail to get in a proper punch, too soft to ever truly hurt you. He seems sweet, naive, like he needs protecting. He reminds you of the kids in the program who didn't make it. You protected them, too. Or, at least tried to. You're as friendly as you let yourself, taking an interest in whatever he's doing, becoming his shadow. Everyone takes notice, but he doesn't seem to mind. He likes your company. The rest of the team hopes you'll open up to him, tell him what you won't tell everyone else, but he refuses to pry. If you talk, that's great. If not, oh well. If you want to hang out by his side, that works too.

Annie has nothing against you, but you definitely keep your distance, especially at first. You've killed more than enough Supes to prove your competency, more than you can name. You're not sure what they tell each other, but you imagine it similar to the system you grew up with: word spread quickly, you all felt it when one of your own were killed. There was an alliance that went unsaid. If you could avenge your fallen siblings, you would. If she found out who you killed, how many, would she come after you? Eventually you learn they're not all connected like that, that Annie's on your side. Still, you kind of see her as the embodiment of everything you're not. She's sweet, caring, and honest. You've been lying all your life, you can't tell what's real and what isn't. Hughie likes her, loves her, so that definitely helps in developing your relationship. Annie knows about your past, what little you share of it, but she doesn't judge. Maybe, at a time, she would have, but after being part of The Boys so long, that kind of thing kind of loses its shock power. You did what you had to, what you were trained to. Weren't you all guilty of a version of that?

M.M., similar to his initial feelings about Kimiko, isn't too fond of you. He doesn't mean to judge as harshly as he does, but just by the looks of you, you mean trouble. Hughie tries to talk to him, but he just can't get past your quirks. You're so naive about certain things (what music you like to listen to, shows you've never seen, how to form normal friendships, what jokes are funny) and so knowledgeable about other things (the fastest way to bleed out a man, how to make a murder look like a suicide, the amount of languages you were taught to better go after your targets). It just doesn't sit right with him. Knowing this, sensing this, you keep your distance, knowing not to further upset him similar to how your mentors were. Be invisible to him, them. It isn't until you give him sound advice for protecting Monique and Janine, something he never would have thought of, does he reconsider his feelings. He's still not a big fan, but he can see why you belong on the team, why your skills are beneficial, even if some of the stuff you say so lightly gives him the heebie jeebies, like the time you reminisced about killing someone with just a wooden spoon.

Frenchie doesn't really see you as an assassin. They've all killed people, it didn't seem like such a big deal. He doesn't love the idea of you being around Kimiko. She's made a life for herself beyond what she's gone through. It feels like you're still learning how to be without it. Without your mentors, your siblings. He knows there's no one better to give you a chance than him, so he's very open, inviting. You talk to him exclusively in French. You tell him small parts of your past, and he's grateful for that. In return, he tells you about his own childhood. When he shares the scars from his father, you tell him about the ones on your face and neck, how you deserved them for disobedience. He doesn't tell anyone else, knowing it was only meant for him to hear. You even speak affectionately about your mentors, the ones who were kind and only hurt you when you needed it. He wasn't shocked, at least not outwardly, not wanting you to feel strange or odd. Because you don't speak French with an accent, it's hard for him to decipher where you're from. All over, you say, and though you know it's a non-answer, it's the truth. You've been all over the world. You just happened to end up in New York.

Kimiko becomes your friend immediately. Though you gravitate towards Hughie because he's sweet, you like Kimiko because you can tell you're very similar. She doesn't have to say anything, you just know. You recognize the signs. The rest of the team doesn't think it's a great idea, you are alone with her, namely Frenchie. When you aren't cold and standoffish, you're far too casual about what you've done, pointing to old movies with famous Supes back in the day or old politicians, reminiscing how you killed them, made it look like a suicide. Or you talk about growing up, how you were punished for crying even when your friends were killed, pointing out the scars they left. She's not upset by it, she's glad you're talking about it. It makes her upbringing feel normal. You learn sign language quickly, another language you can add to your list, telling her more than anyone else. In return you listen to her, whatever she wants to share, grateful for someone who doesn't look at you like a monster or a freak. You like listening to her go on about Frenchie, her feelings for him. It's a piece of childhood you never got to take part in. It's nice.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

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Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

*

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

*

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began.  The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

*

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering. 

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People. 

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.”  Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!”  Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior. 

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her. 

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before. 

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless,  that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep.  The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him.  Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

[cool-fancier]

Whispers in the Night

Synopsis: In a cozy apartment, two lovers' quiet movie night turns into an unexpected, tantalizing game of desire, testing their willpower and deepening their connection.

Word count: 2.1K

You met Rosé during your sophomore year of college. Both of you were attending a late-night study session in the campus library. The room was filled with students hunched over their laptops and textbooks, but amidst the sea of stressed faces, Rosé’s calm demeanor caught your eye. She was sitting across the room, casually flipping through a novel that seemed far too interesting to be anything related to your shared physics class.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself walking over to her table. “What’s so interesting?” you asked, pointing at the book. Rosé looked up, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Just a little escape from reality,” she replied, showing you the cover of a fantasy novel.

Her voice was soft, melodic, instantly drawing you in. You smiled, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her presence. “Mind if I join you? I could use an escape too.”

“Not at all,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “I’m Rosé, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n” you replied, taking the seat. “Nice to meet you.”

That night, you ended up talking more than studying, sharing your interests and dreams. You learned that Rosé was a literature major, passionate about storytelling and poetry. She loved the way words could paint pictures and evoke emotions. You shared your fascination with science, explaining how the universe's mysteries captivated you.

Over time, study sessions turned into coffee dates. One rainy afternoon, while you were both huddled under a shared umbrella, Rosé looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

“I think I’m falling for you,” she admitted, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

Your heart swelled with emotion, and without thinking, you leaned down and kissed her. The rain poured around you, but in that moment, you felt warm and safe, as if nothing else mattered.

Now, a year into your relationship, you had moved in together into a cozy apartment near campus. Life was good, filled with mutual support and endless affection. Tonight, you planned to have a quiet evening together, watching TV and enjoying each other’s company.

— — — — —

The soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the living room as you and Rosé cuddled on the couch. Her head rested on your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. The movie playing on the screen was a romantic comedy, the kind you both loved to mock but secretly enjoyed.

You traced your fingers lightly over Rosé’s arm, feeling the softness of her skin. She shivered slightly, snuggling closer to you. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and lavender, filled your senses, making you feel more connected to her than ever.

“Hey,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “I have an idea.”

Rosé turned her head to look at you, curiosity and a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh? What kind of idea?”

Instead of answering, you let your hand drift lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm, and you could feel her muscles tense slightly at your touch. You leaned in, kissing her neck softly, your breath hot against her skin.

“Mmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

Your fingers danced across her stomach, moving slowly upwards. Rosé’s breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each breath. You could feel the anticipation building between you, a palpable tension that made your heart race.

As your hand moved higher, you grazed the underside of her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from Rosé. You paused, waiting for her reaction. She opened her eyes, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“Just trying to make the movie more interesting,” you replied with a grin.

Rosé giggled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I think you’re succeeding.”

Emboldened by her response, you let your hand slide further up, cupping her breast gently. Rosé moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed again. You could feel her nipple harden under your palm, and you rubbed it lightly with your thumb, drawing another moan from her lips.

You kissed her neck again, trailing kisses down to her collarbone. Rosé arched her back slightly, pressing herself into your hand. You loved seeing her like this, so responsive to your touch.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “We don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

Rosé bit her lip, nodding. You could see the effort it took for her to stay quiet, and it only made you want to push her limits further. You slid your hand down her body, slipping it under the waistband of her pajama pants. Her breath hitched as your fingers found their way to her most sensitive spot.

You moved slowly, teasing her with light touches. Rosé’s hips bucked slightly, and she grabbed onto your arm, her nails digging into your skin. You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it.

Every time Rosé’s moans grew too loud, you paused, waiting for her to regain control. It was a delicious game, one that left both of you breathless and wanting more. You loved the power you had over her, the way you could bring her to the brink of ecstasy and then pull back, leaving her desperate for release.

Rosé’s eyes opened, and she looked at you with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop.”

You smiled, kissing her deeply. “Only if you can stay quiet,” you murmured against her lips.

Rosé nodded, her eyes filled with determination. You resumed your movements, your fingers working her expertly. You could feel her getting closer, her body trembling with anticipation. You wanted to push her over the edge, to see her come undone in your arms.

As you continued, Rosé’s breathing grew ragged, her moans turning into soft whimpers. You could tell she was struggling to stay quiet, and it only fueled your desire to make her lose control. You increased your pace, your fingers moving faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Rosé’s grip on your arm tightened, and you could feel her body tensing. She was right there, on the brink of release. You leaned in, kissing her neck, your breath hot against her skin.

“Come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding.

That was all it took. Rosé’s body convulsed, her eyes squeezing shut as she reached her climax. She bit her lip to stifle her moan, her whole body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. You held her close, your fingers still moving gently, drawing out her pleasure.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. You kissed her softly, savoring the taste of her lips.

“Wow,” she whispered, a smile playing on her lips. “That was… amazing.”

You grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You were amazing.”

Rosé snuggled closer to you, resting her head on your chest. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

— — — — —

As you held her close, Rosé shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your chest. You could see the lingering desire in her eyes, a silent plea for more. Without breaking eye contact, you slid your hand back down her body, slipping it under her pajama pants once again.

This time, you moved with purpose, your fingers delving deeper, parting her folds and finding her clit. Rosé gasped, her body arching towards you. You began to circle her clit slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure. Rosé’s breathing quickened, and she clutched at your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth slightly open as soft moans escaped her lips. You could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating your fingers.

“Do you like that?” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

“Yes,” Rosé breathed, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

You increased the pressure, your fingers moving faster, drawing circles around her clit. Rosé’s hips bucked against your hand, her body responding eagerly to your touch. You loved the way she moved, so in tune with your rhythm.

You leaned in, kissing her deeply, your tongue exploring her mouth as your fingers continued their relentless assault. Rosé moaned into your mouth, her body trembling with anticipation. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing as she approached the edge.

Suddenly, you pulled your hand away, causing Rosé to whimper in frustration. “Why did you stop?” she asked, her voice laced with desperation.

“Because I want to taste you,” you replied, your eyes dark with desire.

Rosé’s eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. You helped her out of her pajama pants, tossing them aside. She lay back on the couch, spreading her legs for you, her eyes filled with anticipation.

You moved between her thighs, your breath hot against her skin. You could see her glistening with arousal, the sight making your mouth water.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, savoring the taste of her skin. Rosé shivered, her legs spreading wider in invitation.

Slowly, you trailed kisses up her thigh, your lips brushing over her sensitive skin. Rosé's breathing grew heavier, her body trembling with anticipation. When you finally reached her center, you paused, looking up at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted in a soft moan.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I need you.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her clit. Rosé gasped, her hips bucking towards you. You licked a slow, teasing line from her entrance to her clit, savoring her taste. She was sweet and intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

You circled her clit with your tongue, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. Rosé's hands found their way to your hair, her fingers tangling in your locks as she tried to pull you closer. You obliged, sucking gently on her clit, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.

Rosé's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against your mouth. You could feel her getting closer, her body tensing with each stroke of your tongue. You slid two fingers into her, curling them upwards to find that special spot inside her. Rosé cried out, her body arching off the couch as pleasure overwhelmed her.

You pumped your fingers in and out of her, matching the rhythm of your tongue on her clit. Rosé was a writhing mess beneath you, her moans turning into desperate cries for release. You could feel her walls clenching around your fingers, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending orgasm.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, don't stop.”

You had no intention of stopping. You wanted to see her fall apart, to watch her come undone under your touch. You increased the pace, your fingers moving faster, your tongue flicking over her clit with relentless precision.

Rosé's body tensed, her back arching off the couch as she reached her climax. She cried out your name, her walls clamping down around your fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over her. You didn't stop, continuing to pump your fingers and lick her clit, drawing out her orgasm until she was a quivering mess.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. You withdrew your fingers, licking them clean as you moved up to kiss her. She tasted herself on your lips, moaning softly as she kissed you back.

“You're incredible,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

“You're the incredible one,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I love you, Rosé.”

“I love you too,” she said, her eyes shining with tears. “More than anything.”

You held her close, your bodies tangled together on the couch. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. You loved Rosé more than anything, and moments like this reminded you of just how special your connection was. You knew that no matter what challenges life threw your way, you would always have each other.

And that was all that mattered.

[heauxvibez]

Good Girl..

Warning: A sprinkle of smut (18+)

Lying sprawled on the bed, her body draped over the soft cotton sheets, Yasmine nestled into the comfort of his oversized t-shirt. A subtle smile played on her lips as her iPhone buzzed in her hands, each vibration sending a ripple of excitement through her. It felt as if Joe's presence was right there with her, despite the miles that separated them.

Being on the road meant constant communication between them, whether through texts, Facetime, or phone calls. Though she missed him dearly, she appreciated the space that his road trips afforded them. She believes that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and every time they reunited, they cherished every moment together, knowing they'd soon have to part again.

Joe: So, what's on the agenda for tonight?

Yasmine: Hmm, not entirely sure yet. Probably just gonna whip up some popcorn, binge-watch a few episodes of Martin, and call it a night.

Joe: Sounds like a plan. Wish I could be there. As much as I appreciate the road, being home with you sounds way better. I miss you 😞

A blush crept across Yasmine's cheeks at Joe's heartfelt message. It never failed to amaze her how he could evoke such tender emotions with just a few words, even from a distance.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she typed out her response.

Yasmine: Pshh, quit playing Mr. Reigns. Traveling across the country sounds way more exciting than popcorn and tv 😒

Joe: Trust me, being at home with you, feeling your warmth, and hearing your laughter is all I crave right now.

Yasmine's heart fluttered at his words, her pulse quickening with every beat.

Joe: And if I were home, I'd have you in my arms..making you scream my name all night long...

Her breath hitched as she read Joe's message, her imagination running wild with the vivid imagery he painted.

Joe: I can't wait to have you all to myself again, baby girl. Just the thought of you drives me crazy.

Her face burned hotter. She swallowed hard, watching three dots appear on the screen, indicating he was typing again. The dots vanished, replaced by another message. She wasn't prepared for the words that lit up the screen.

God, you have no idea how badly I want you.

She shifted, rubbing her thighs together as she continued to read his message.

I swear, when I get home, I'm tying you to the bed, and you'll cum so many times you'll lose count, baby girl. I promise.

She immediately flipped her phone face down, locking it.

Believe it or not, she had never received such a text from Joe before, so she was taken aback when she read it. It certainly had her worked up, and those words were enough to have her swooning.

It had been ages since they'd been intimate. With his focus on work, there was little time for sex, and she found it cruel of him to send a text like that given their circumstances.

Thoughts of him being there with her, touching her, flooded her mind. It didn't take long before she found herself on her back. With just his t-shirt on, it was easy access for her to slip her hands into her panties. This was the only way she could find pleasure right now, so why not indulge?

Her phone vibrated not once, but twice, and she groaned in frustration as she read the texts.

Don't you dare touch yourself, baby girl. You better wait until I get home.

Buzz

I will tease you until you're in tears. I won't let you cum for hours.

Three more dots appeared as she whimpered at the text.

And don't forget, I still have those cameras installed, so don't test me.

Her hand moved away from where she desired to be touched the most. She needed release, desperately. She groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed and throwing her head back on the pillow.

Her phone vibrated one last time. Buzz.

Good girl.

--------

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

[lovegrowsart]

tui & la, yin & yang, and zuko & katara (+aang)

okay. i'm not interested in shipping slapfights, but i came across a specific pro-k/a argument and my mind simply won't let me rest until i write these thoughts down, so here's some meta about zutara symbolism and how, even if it was bryke's intention or retcon or whatever tf, symbolism related to complementary and interconnected opposites and balance, simply doesn't work with k/a's canon relationship dynamic.

first of all, the argument i saw that tui and la in the show are somehow not meant to be taken as yin and yang (or at the very least a representation of it) is... a very interesting one, considering they're designed to look exactly like the yin yang symbol, and koh literally describes them as such. he isn't just bringing up yin & yang because tui and la are, like, similar to them? but because that's what they are.

koh says tui and la are push and pull (the literal translation of tui and la from chinese) to describe what they are, and then says they are good and evil, life and death, yin and yang, to furthur describe the inherent nature of their relationship. this is a kid's show. the symbolism is meant to be this easy to parse. who is watching the koi fish merge into the literal yin yang symbol, quite possibly one of the most recognisable symbols in the entire world, and thinking "oh, but they're not really meant to be yin & yang!"? some k/a shippers, apparently.

now, you might say, but yin & yang aren't good and evil? isn't that a simplification or misconception of the concept? and yes, actually, i would agree with you, good and evil isn't exactly how i would describe yin & yang to someone (though there are schools of thought that do assign a moral dimension to yin & yang!), but if i was writing, again, a kid's show and wanted to get my point across with simple yet evocative language about the relationship between these two spirits symbolised by an complex and abstract real life spiritual and philosophical concept, i can see how "good and evil" works to explain yin (la) as negative and yang (tui) as positive. the text and visual language of the show intentionally links the ideas inherent to yin & yang to tui and la. you can't just retroactively separate them because you want tui & la to represent k/a, but you know that doesn't work if they're yin & yang because canon k/a just doesn't fit with that kind of symbolism.

the k/a argument that tui & la represent katara and aang just fundamentally doesn't work with how both are presented in the show. tui (the moon) is the white koi fish - the light side, representing yang, which is active, masculine, postive, fire etc. la is the black koi fish (the ocean) - the dark side, representing passivity, feminine, negative, water etc.

katara as the moon and aang as the ocean just doesn't map onto the specific symbolism evoked by how tui & la are presented visually and thematically in the show. tui & la are specifically described to balance each other, which just... isn't how k/a's canon dynamic is written. "aang gets angry like the ocean spirit and katara as the moon spirit pulls him back and calms him down" isn't how i would write or describe a balanced relationship, it's what i would call katara being aang's emotional crutch for three seasons with little support in return to "balance" them. k/a's canon dynamic is notably imbalanced, so if even symbolism pertaining to balance was meant to represent their relationship, bryke and the writers did a pretty piss poor job of making that symbolism present in their actual relationship. it's also a complete mischaracterisation of the yin & yang symbolism that is, again, explicitly tied into tui & la per the text and visual language of the show. not only is "katara and aang balance each other and when they're apart, they act recklessly and have to pull each other back from the brink" a reading of their relationship not particularly supported by the text of the show, that's also just... not how tui & la/yin & yang are actually characterised in the show or in real life.

furthermore, the argument that "good and evil" as it relates to tui & la and yin & yang doesn't work for z/k because "zuko isn't evil in the end" or "katara isn't evil at all" completely misses the forest for the trees in how the symbolism ties into the show's overarching themes and z/k's relationship specifically. the storytelling here is much more metaphorical and psychological than it is literal.

the whole point of yin & yang is that they are interconnected opposites, simultaneous unity and duality - zuko is as capable of bad as he is of good, and in turn, so is katara. this is true of every other person and character, of course, but zuko and katara specifically have important story beats in their respective arcs where they are shown the "light side" (zuko learning from the dragons) and "dark side" (katara learning bloodbending) of their respective elements (and their elements only compound their yin & yang symbolism, since fire and water are regarded as physical/natural manifestions of the yin & yang cosmological cycle). one of the most notable story beats of katara's arc is when she explores her "dark side" by going after yon rha (ymmv on how "dark" that really is, but i'm going with how the show presents this part of katara's journey), which is something the other members of the gaang (besides zuko ofc) don't really go through in their arcs - aang, sokka, and toph aren't written to confront the duality of their nature, their worldview, their moral character, their bending, the way that zuko and katara are.

part of me is struggling to even explain this because it's just, idk, really obvious to me. zuko and katara are fire and water, "evil" and "good" (they literally face off in the b1 and b2 finales! either of their literal and actual morality isn't actually all that relevant to how the symbolism works), of course they're yin & yang? and since tui & la are how yin & yang in the atla universe is presented to the audience, then that means they are tui & la too (symbolically, obviously, not literally).

yin & yang fundamentally transform each other the way zuko and katara do. for every advance, there's a retreat; for every rise, there's a fall. book 1; zuko falls, katara rises. book 2; katara falls, zuko rises. book 3; zuko falls, katara rises. you rise with the moon, i rise with the sun. an eternal dance as the both of them learn and grow and confront their own false dichotimies, learning how a world of seemingly opposing and contrary forces is, in fact, interconnected and interdependent.

like. c'mon.

[br-disaster]

CQL's crybaby Nie Mingjue appreciation post

I always see people talking about CQL's Nie Mingjue crying constantly, and they're right to do so, but I haven't seen those scenes compiled so I thought it would be a good idea to do it, since it's one of my favorite things about this version of NMJ.

*I'll consider the times he was tearing up too because I think they're important, but i'm only considering "full crying scenes" the ones where there are actual tears falling down his face.

*It's all in chronological order.

Episode 41 - defending Meng Yao

Why is NMJ crying? Crying is his response to everything, okay? NMJ is very emotionally invested in everything he does. He's very mad these men for saying terrible things about Meng Yao while benefiting from his labour. He's so emotionally invested in everything he does.

Is it a full crying scene? No, he tears up the entire time he's scolding the cultivators but those tears don't leave his eyes.

Episode 10 - being threatened by Wen Chao

Why is NMJ crying? Wen Chao is being very disrespectful, as he often is. And it's understandable, NMJ is hurt, his home was invaded, some of his soldiers are dead and it's overall a terrible time for everybody. To be honest, though, I think he's tearing up out of pure rage because Wen Chao just mentioned what Wen Xu did to the Cloud Recesses.

Is it a full crying scene? No. I almost didn't include this one because it's very subtle but his eyes look too shiny to be ignored.

Episode 10 - expelling Meng Yao from the Unclean Realm

Why is NMJ crying? It's a very emotional and conflicting moment on top of a terrible day, on top of a very stressful period of his life. He was betrayed by his friend who saved his life right afterwards; his home was invaded and they're at war! He has every right to cry as much as he did.

Is it a full crying scene? Hell yes, and it's glorious. They even end the episode with his miserable little crying face.

Episode 41 - Everything, really

Why is NMJ crying? Everything sucks, he's defeated and hurt in front of the man who killed his father. He didn't get his personal revenge and he didn't free the world from Wen Ruohan's tyranny either. Instead, he watched helplessly as his men were murdered and now he has to watch his former deputy mock his father's death and threaten to have Wen Ruohan damage Baxia like he did with his father's blade.

Is it a full crying scene? No, only because he's being very brave about it. I have no idea how those tears didn't fall.

Episode 41 - confrontation at Jinlintai

Why is NMJ crying? Very difficult topics being discussed here. People who are way better with words than I am have already written amazing meta on how having his worldview challenged like this affects NMJ emotionally, so I won't go there. But between the song of turmoil making him more emotionally unstable and the disdain with which JGY talks about the men he killed, evoking this very traumatic moment I just mentioned on the previous crying scene; I think it's very understandable.

Is it a full crying scene? Yes! Most of the time he's holding back tears, but you can see the one dramatic tear running down his nose (on the outside of it) on the second gif!

In conclusion: he has so much to cry about, it's surprising he didn't cry more, it must have taken so much strength (or he was just crying offscreen, which is plausible, because sadly this isn't The Nie Mingjue show and we don't see him all the time)

Anyway, I am not here to claim he's not a crybaby because he absolutely is, but on the actual show we only have 2 full crying scenes. They were so impactful it feels like much more crying happened. Fatal Journey is it's own thing so I made a separate post for those tearing up, crying and emotional breakdown lovely scenes <3

[midnightcrw]

Mission

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: On a mission with Simon while the TF141 looks after Daisy (Simon and your daughter)

Warning: Smut, Fingering (though it's not very long)

a/n: Did I just finish writing this in class? Yes, I did. This is probably the longest piece I have written in a while. I'm not entirely satisfied with some aspects of it, but hopefully, you'll all like it. There is also a mention of another piece I wrote on Thursday, in this one

"I can't believe we're doing this," you mumbled under your breath, not thrilled about the situation at hand. It's not that partnering with Simon on a mission bothered you; it's the whole pretending-to-be-someone-else deal. Luckily, being married to Simon was the only genuine part.

Simon's expression mirrored your sentiments; he wasn't thrilled about the mission either. Home with you and Daisy, enjoying a movie, sounded way better than being here. Ever since Price pitched the idea (thanks to Soap planting the seed), Simon's face maintained a constant frown, adding to his already intimidating aura.

"Look at your mom and dad, Daisy," Soap chirped through the earpiece, his cheerful tone cutting through the tension. Clearly, Soap's ulterior motive was getting you two on the mission, leaving him more time with Daisy—especially considering the fact that he, Price, and Gaz burned down most of your house.

After all, you'd decided a week ago that they wouldn't be visiting Daisy after the recent incident. Yet, here they were—Price, Soap, and Gaz—squeezed into the cozy van. You and Simon, on the other hand, were decked out in your finest attire, ready to infiltrate a ball where you had to play the roles of affluent snobs.

The biting cold outside did little to improve the situation, but once inside, the warmth gradually enveloped you. The opulent decorations of some wealthy bastard's 'home' caught your attention, if one could even call it that.

Entering the venue proved surprisingly simple, thanks to Laswell's good work on your fake identities. At least, there was someone reliable to count on while the trio fawned over Daisy.

"I can't believe it either," Simon whispered, his arm securely wrapped around your waist, unwilling to let you out of his sight. Your husband, though impeccably dressed and handsome, exuded an unmistakable discomfort about the entire affair.

Playfully teasing him, you touched the hand wrapped around your waist, gazing at him with affection. "You look good, don't worry."

Simon rolled his eyes, confident in his appearance. His concern lay elsewhere, irritated by the lingering gazes directed at you, as if you weren't already claimed.

Choosing not to engage in your banter, he retaliated with a gentle pinch on your waist, evoking a gasp before you playfully pushed him. Looking down at you, a subtle smirk played on his lips. "Behave," he said, causing your heart rate to quicken.

Despite being accustomed to his antics, it still stirred an emotion within you – an emotion only your Simon could evoke.

Your eyes roamed the polished surroundings, every detail meticulously in place. A grand chandelier adorned the center of the room, its crystals glistening in the radiant light.

The crowd, dressed impeccably, momentarily making you insecure about your own attire, despite knowing it was far from the truth. Lingering eyes turned your way, a subtle awareness settling in.

Simon and you strolled, exploring the opulent venue and stumbling upon a grand staircase. However, the stairs could wait; first, you needed to blend into the ball and find the opportune moment for distraction.

Through the earpiece, multiple voices echoed, dominated by Daisy's delightful coos and giggles. The urge to express your adoration almost escaped you, as Simon's hushing finger pressed to your lips.

"But Simon, she's so cute," you protested as Simon pulled you abruptly flush against his chest. Knowing that he had to shut you up somehow, and making sudden decisions always seemed to work well on you.

"I know, she's cute, but we're on a mission," he exclaimed, leaning down to press a kiss on your temple. You sighed, resting your forehead on his chest.

Daisy, only a year old, had never been far from your side, making it tough to focus without worrying, despite trusting Soap, Gaz and Price.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, feeling a twinge of guilt. Simon, all seriousness, maintained focus while you struggled to compose yourself.

"No need to apologize, love. It won't take long, I promise," he reassured in a soothing tone, his embrace bringing a momentary calm.

Tilting your head, you locked eyes with him. The softening of his gaze revealed a side reserved just for you and you leaned in for a kiss, a sudden interruption made both of you pull away in surprise.

"Is everything alright?" The man, around his forties, in a well-put-together white suit and a black tie, asked. His black hair had a few distinguished white strands, adding to his attractive appearance—a face you found oddly familiar.

Before you could place him, Gaz's voice chimed in through the earpiece, "That's Robert Harris."

Robert Harris, the man whose 'home' you were infiltrating, stood as the alleged cause behind multiple soldier disappearances and stolen weapons, cleverly concealed behind the mask of a successful CEO.

"Everything's alright, Mr. Harris," you replied, offering a smile to downplay any suspicion. "Just call me Robert. And you must be?" he inquired, returning the smile, his gaze focused on you, seemingly oblivious to Simon's presence or deliberately avoiding eye contact.

You slipped your hand into Simon's, drawing him closer as you smoothly introduced yourselves with the fabricated names designed for this mission.

As your fingers intertwined with Simon's, Robert's gaze shifted to your husband, and his expression hinted at displeasure. Sensing the tension, your grip on Simon's hand tightened. Having looked through Robert's file, you knew he wasn't exactly the most loyal husband in his marriage—an aggressive man unburdened by consequences.

Sensing your distress, Simon entered the conversation. "A few guests mentioned your recent endeavors. What's your newest project, if I may ask?" Uncharacteristically wordy for Simon, but for you, he'd go the extra mile.

As Robert engaged in the discussion, you seized the opportunity to ask about the restroom. "Up the stairs, first door to your left, darling," Robert said, letting his eyes linger a little longer on you as if he was mentally undressing you while putting an emphasis on the 'darling'.

Nodding, you made your way upstairs, leaving Simon alone with Harris. The uneasy feeling that settled in when Robert approached lingered, taken by the realization that Simon couldn't watch your back for the moment.

The moment the word 'darling' slipped from Robert's mouth, Simon's jaw tightened, and his hands balled into fists. It wasn't the term itself that bothered him, but the deliberate intent behind it, as if Robert aimed to provoke him.

Simon, consumed by a simmering anger, barely registered the details of the project Robert was discussing. "You have a beautiful wife," Harris stated with a smug voice, an infuriating smirk accompanying his words.

Before Simon could retort, Harris continued, "I'm sure having a wife like her never gets boring." That remark struck a nerve, sparking Simon's irritation.

"Damn," Gaz uttered with a shocked tone, earning a smack on the back of his head from Price. "Not in front of Daisy!"

"Simon is probably going to kill him," Soap exclaimed, drawing a giggle from Daisy. "You definitely are Simon's daughter."

Having finished washing your hands, Laswell's voice echoed, "His office is at the end of the corridor, and for now, the way is clear."

With Laswell's guidance, you swiftly headed outside, walking briskly towards the indicated door. Left to your own devices, you might have been lost, grateful for the assistance.

Standing before the door, you braced for it to be locked. To your surprise, the handle turned easily. "He's not only sleazy but also dumb," you mumbled as you entered.

"I agree," Gaz chimed in, offering support for your opinion on Robert, bringing a small smile to your face. The room, akin to the rest of the ball's elegance, was well-organized and pristine.

Moving around the desk, you delved into the drawers, recognizing this task might take a while with numerous files and papers that didn't stand out at first glance.

"Fucking finally," Simon breathed out in relief as Robert disappeared from sight. He was just about to lodge a knife into either Robert's throat or his own, depending on his mood. Fortunately, for Robert, the guests took the man away before Simon could do something he could enjoy regret.

Having monitored your conversations through the earpiece as he ascended the stairs, Simon was visibly pleased to find you unharmed inside the office.

"I would have thrown a knife at you if Laswell hadn't warned me," you quipped, your husband approaching you behind the desk.

"Maybe I would have liked that," Simon whispered, dangerously close to your body, trapping you between himself and the desk.

"Not now," you warned, despite the craving to feel his touch. Ignoring your caution, Simon wrapped his arms around your waist, planting kisses on your neck, prompting a quiet gasp at the sudden contact of his lips.

"Hate the way he looked at you," Simon rasped out, his hand venturing beneath the leg slit of your dress, his intense gaze locking onto yours, awaiting your response—permission or denial hanging in the balance.

Unable to resist any longer, you nodded, granting Simon the freedom to explore your body.

His left hand held your waist possessively, while the right pushed your underwear aside. Gripping the desk tightly, your head tilted forward.

Without warning, Simon cupped you between your legs, eliciting a whimper from you. "Fuck..."

Drenched with desire, the touch left you yearning to be bent over the desk and fucked senselessly, losing yourself in a passion that momentarily eclipsed the lingering mission at hand.

He slowly released his grip, running his middle finger through your slit, prompting a clench of your thighs and earning a spank. "Keep your legs spread for me, darling," Simon urged, a hint of spite lingering in the term Robert had used.

Gulping, you complied, and as you let go, Simon plunged a finger deep inside you, drawing a moan. "Shh, we wouldn't want them to hear you now, would we, darling?" His voice took on an unexpectedly deeper tone, causing you to bite your lip and compliance. "Good girl."

With that, he started fucking his digit in and out of you, not at all being gentle as he usually would be. Your lip was likely bleeding from the force, but Simon reveled in the sight of you unraveling.

"More, please," you quietly pleaded, a desire for another finger inside as he began rubbing your clit, the sensation almost pushing you to cry out.

"Only because you've been good so far," he whispered into your ear, adding another finger, curling both digits, causing you to lean forward, supporting yourself with your arms.

Not long after, you reached your climax, nearly collapsing to your knees if Simon hadn't held you up by your waist. Taking deep breaths, you tried to compose yourself as Simon cleaned his fingers with a handkerchief from his suit pocket.

Allowing you a moment to rest on the chair by the desk, your husband retrieved the files, finding the one you needed. "I'll take care of you once we're out of here, love," Simon promised, giving you a kiss before pulling you up by your hands.

"You're lucky that we were able to turn off the mics and the screen for the office," Price scolded the both of you as you leaned against Simon.

"You shouldn't have forced us on this mission then," Simon replied.

"I hope you feel guilty, Simon."

"I would do it again."

[bluginkgo]

Ep 8 Thoughts and Details Part 1

Some thoughts and details I had while watching ep8, and some parallels I found. And yes, I had to split this into 2 parts because Tumblr said "fack you, you can only upload 30 images :P"

Spoilers, duh

Already starting strong, the song that plays through the radio is "Cyn's theme" if you will, that is heard all the way back in ep5 (time stamp about 2:34)

Ep8 showcasing the first teaser image that was released on Liam's channel. Quite bittersweet, in a good way.

Well, uh, Uzi is a true god now XD She's got the AS that was originally in Cyn as well, double powerful and double traumatized/damaged OC!

"A How-to guide of overcoming the existential dread evoked by murdering innocent sentient robots capable of emotion and independent thought. Real life JCJ engineer testimonies. Thought provoking analysis of life and the benefit of being the apex predator. Insanely philosophical advice such as, 'Get over it,' 'Shut up and keep working,' 'Do you want a job or not.'"

Bleh >:P The fact that the AS is still playful is something a bit silly to me, in a funny way. Despite it being the god of the universe- almost- it has a silly side to it.

The amount of times there were cuss words either almost said/implicated made me so happy and burst out laughing one too many times XD

I've seen some people mention how the reunion between Uzi and Nori was unsatisfactory. In my opinion? It was perfect. The awkward feeling of meeting someone you should have known your entire life, all the while trying to the world was perfectly translated here. The silliness that Uzi inherited from Nori shines here. But most of all, N's kindness shines through Uzi. I think if Uzi was still her angsty rebellious teen like she was back at the beginning of the series, she would have not had as nice of a reunion with Nori as she did now.

Omg, you have no idea how happy I was in this scene. The animation, VAs, the DETAIL- ALL OF IT was so amazing! N looks so silly and goober-y <:3 Another thing I took notice later on was the timing. It's not really stated how much time it took for Uzi to go from falling down the AS hole to being punted into space. But assuming about minutes, that implies N facking booked it. The moment he got tossed out of the cathedral with the keys, he absolutely booked it to the ship without evening thinking whether Uzi was alive or not. He needed to see the evidence for himself. He didn't give up on and assume that Uzi was gone.

Recently one of the animators posted the scenes they worked on, giving us a clearer view of expressions. The work done by Xoriak was amazing and really pushed the expressions on these characters to the limit. What used to be Uzi's anger, quickly melts into relief an sadness as she realizes that N didn't give up on her in this scene. While she sacrificed herself, N did not accept her possible death as the only answer. No, he chose to look for her, and he would have done the same with V had the elevator not been blocked off.

This made me happy too. N has grown so much from who he was in the pilot. He used to be the push over that made friends with rocks, that accepted any order from the higher ups and didn't dare question any rebuttals. Now? Now he's confident enough to even voice the fact that he was mad about what Uzi did.

Give me like- giv- give me a second- LKJD;OIADKNVKVNAKDJF;OIWAEJFANVKJASDJFAOIWEFNAKJSDBV For the longest time my hyperfixation has been BONKS. Evident enough with what I've drawn (looks back at the 4-5 bonk drawings I've made). The fact that I got to see them bonk in canon made my sad sorry soul ascend into the upper plane of existence XD Oh and "die man bit-"

I grew up watching Studio Ghibli, so to see this moment- of NUzi falling and holding hands, of course my brain said- YOYOYOYO LOOK LOOK THEY'RE SO CUTE-

The moment of respite, the hug, the tail wrap around and the quick release from Uzi's part after having a heart to heart- it was all so perfectly beautiful ;w; NOT TO MENTION THE MUSIC, as usual AJ DiSpirito absolutely delivered. I REQUIRE THAT MUSIC TO BE PLAYING LOUDLY IN MY EARS 24/7 PLEASE AND THANK YOU AJ.

"I owe you 1 spaceship" -N

Couple things:

It's funny how J just either gave the ship up without a fight, or N was so stupidly fast that J couldn't even do anything about him taking it XD

N is an absolute machine at speed drawing XD

"I'm FINE, and calm, and GO AWAY." J is the embodiment of the entire work force TwT Couldn't help but say "same, honey, same ;w;"

Excuse me while I just- ITS VVVVVVVVV SHE CAME BACK OH MY GOSH- passes out On a more serious note, I've seen plenty of people mention that if V came back, her sacrifice would be for nothing. I don't think so. V came such a long way and grew to be more kind and honest thanks to her interactions with N, Uzi, Lizzy, and even her "death." It shows, because she chose to side with Uzi and N, and they all fought together in an amazing dance.

There were many moments in the episode that were a bit "slower" pace as many have put. That these moments took away from the intensity that was supposed to be in the episode. I don't think so. These moments are needed not just for the comedy part of it, but to give our brains to rest. To take a second, process the fighting we just saw, and be ready for more action. This is often used in Studio Ghibli movies, where after heavy action, it is followed by moments of quiet serenity to give you time to let the events sink in.

This, this right here TwT CRIES. These three have been together, hanging out, figuring out the eldritch mysteries- of course they'd pick up habits from each other. From N becoming more confident with himself and allowing himself to be mad at someone. To Uzi picking up on V's crawling on the ceiling habit. To V picking up Uzi's "bite me."

The amount of hand holding that was in this episode gave me enough serotonin for a life time. And the way that N always ended up wrapping his tail around Uzi, be it a hug or a cool pose. All of my NUzi hyperfixations are becoming canon and making me go FERAL.

Something that is interesting and always comes back to us, is the AS's interest and fixation on N. The way I have always seen it was Cyn was the reason for it. The AS tends to take something from the host and amplify it ten fold. For Uzi's case the perfect example was when she felt anxious or upset. Ep4 and ep7 are great examples of that. For Cyn's case it would seem that she got attached to N after she entered the mansion as a Solver host. The AS probably took that thought and amplified it to unhealthy amounts.

Oh.MY.GOD. THESE GOOBERS SEND HELP THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME WITH HOW CUTE THEY ARE. N first attempts to protect Uzi, and she says "nuh uh" and covers his hand instead. This. This right here. It's far too beautiful TwT

Great frame, but uh, how the fack are we able to see the AS symbol? XD Cause uh like, her face has a split for the nose section still and all of a sudden it just... went away? XD Don't get me wrong, the animation is TOP NOTCH in these last episodes, but silly little moments like this- where it's super tense and scary, but after a rewatch it just seems silly.

When I first saw this I figured "oh shit, it's ep7 all over again, they're gonna be obliterated." The demonic screams I let out were a bit embarrassing to say the least XD

This little shit. She's just playing with them, and she knows it. This entire fight was nothing more than a little game for her. Like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

In this scene you can actually hear the first notes of Eternal Dream, but in a super distorted way, much like it sounded in ep6 (timestamp about 15:30)

Alright, Ginkgo what now, why include this blurry frame of nothing? I really admire Cyn's VA. Fitzy has always done an amazing job at making my favorite character- Cyn- the creepy silly goober that she is. So of course I would have watched and unwillingly memorized laugh takes that Fitzy also shared. One of which was here (time stamp of about 0:47. The laughs are similar, and most likely reused from ep7 takes that never made it into ep7 but carried over to ep8. Just a fun little detail I noticed.

OMFG LMAO AAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHA THE WAY I BAWLED THE FIRST TIME I HEARD IT XD

Split second frame but I see it. I SEE IT V. SHE COVERED UP N'S CORE TwT Despite all of the comments she made, despite all of the things she did, she still cared for him. And the entire show, her entire character growth shows that. She didn't run in that moment- she could have much like she did from Cynessa mere seconds ago, but she stayed, and tried to protect N too.

OMG BAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHA YESSS UZI XD

The entire fighting scene between Uzi, Cynessa and J was so amazing. As usual, AJ DiSpirito did an AMAZING job with the songs, but more so the fact that Uzi is able to hold her own against J and Cynessa, that just amazes me. She has always been strong, but seeing it in battle made me appreciate it all that much more. Another thing about this episode, it seemed like the animators didn't particularly try to hide anything sneaky. All of the glitched sections (ex: Uzi's visor after she at the AS) were code that general population is unable to read/decipher- unless someone with an actual expertise tells me otherwise, I can only assume its code of her CPU functions- once again, remember, I know next to nothing about computers and that language TwT But the moments that were evident were these- they were even changed to BLUE. From the pilot time, everything was sneaky. I mean from the way the Murder Drones logo switched briefly into the AS symbol, to N's waking up having administration "CYN" written on his visor upon reboot. All of that was sneaky details put in for us to hunt down. This time around, it didn't feel much of like a hunt and more like silly easter eggs.

Wanna see the rest of it? Yeah, here's part 2 because Tumblr doesn't like more than 30 images per post TwT

[anjasitdown]

I knew something was UP when the only film that helped Yuuji control his flow of cursed energy was the Lord of the Rings. Our boy Yuuji is TRULY a hobbit at heart. Chapter 265 spoilers ahead, but I'll put it under the cut.

It was back in season 1 when Gojo had Yuuji watch a variety of movies to teach him control of cursed energy regardless of the emotions evoked by the films. Gojo refuted Yuuji's idea that anger and other strong negative emotions are the only source of a strong cursed energy.

With that in mind, I don't think it's random that LotR is the one shown to us that helped Yuuji gain mastery over his cursed energy flow. Sure, Yuuji might've controlled it before watching other movies, but it feels as if it's on purpose that it's LotR, especially that scene at the river where Frodo tried to take the burden of destroying the ring on his own, fully aware of the dangerous journey ahead. But Sam didn't let him and willingly followed him, even if it would cost him his life.

Maybe, just maybe, Yuuji learned to control his cursed energy because he saw himself in Frodo. Yuuji looked so engrossed in the film as if he was feeling it—as if he was Frodo who, just like him, bears great evil within him. Not only that, but Yuuji saw in Frodo's eyes the same crushing weight of responsibility and isolation such an evilness entails. It was as if he's looking in the mirror. But Frodo wasn't alone. He had Sam and the others in the Fellowship who are also willing to lighten the burden he carries. And I think that's what got to Yuuji.

And I don't know if it's just me reading too much into things but Yuuji is at his best when he feels anchored by his friends' support or when they're relying on him, like that time when Yuuji held down the cursed spirit at the detention center to buy Megumi time to save Nobara and escape; when Yuuji and Todo almost defeated Hanami, and my favorite, when Nobara nailed down Mahito's double during Shibuya arc:

As corny as this sounds, Yuuji managed to pull himself from Nanamin's death and attack Mahito because he felt Nobara's presence, which encouraged him to continue fighting. Even if the sorcerers were scattered that time and most were left to fend for themselves, Yuuji didn't feel alone. This was the one thing Geto needed the most when he was spiraling down.

Yuuji reminds me so much of Frodo: Yuuji the vessel of the evilest sorcerer in history and Frodo the Ring bearer. But before that, they were nobodies living a simple life, which they treasure and work hard to keep. They're not ambitious and are satisfied being surrounded by their loved ones. They're the ones we least expect to defeat the evilest entities since they're surrounded by the strongest warriors/sorcerers, who could not defeat the said evilest entities. Yuuji, like Frodo, does not belong to the kind of world he got thrown into, and this is made pretty obvious in the recent chapter.

Throughout the many months Yuji had been with various sorcerers and curse users, his principles and worldview got blurry. He started to assimilate their ideas, which didn't feel like him to be honest. From ideas of having a specific role in life and fulfilling it, wanting to give people a good death, and having a cog mentality to being the same as Mahito and becoming a monster to defeat another monster. That's not him. That's never him. And Yuuji realized that too, and I love seeing him change his perspective into that which feels more like him.

Yuuji never liked fighting others. He may have been blessed with physical prowess that might've been on par with Nanamin, but he never wanted to use it. Heck, Yuuji joined an occult club instead of becoming an athlete. What's important to him are the memories you make with yourself and with your loved ones—choosing to do things, even mundane ones, that bring you and others joy because that's what life is all about.

To Yuuji, there's nothing wrong if you lead a simple life doing things as mundane as walking your dog, sleeping, taking a shit, writing this meta, and existing. Living day to day is already hard as it is. Yuuji wants Sukuna (and us) to know that your worth to live and be loved and respected doesn't depend on the grand dreams you have, how far you've come in life, how powerful and strong you've become, how useful you are. Your worth to live is inherent to you, and no one's going to change that, not Sukuna or anybody else. And Yuuji's not gonna stand idly by and watch the likes of him trample on people's lives. They don't get to choose who's worthy to live and kill those who don't.

I read somewhere that Gege thinks Yuuji having no ambition, unlike Naruto wanting to be a Hokage or Luffy aiming to become a Pirate King, is the story's weak point. But I disagree. That's what makes Yuuji so unique and refreshing to watch as he develops. He may not be as ambitious as other shonen heroes, but he does have a strong moral compass, even as young as 15. It may not be obvious, but Yuuji is introspective, observant, and most of all he has this childlike love for life that the other characters have lost due to the nature of their jobs.

Back to the LotR reference—as much as similar Yuuji is to Frodo—when Sukuna switched to Megumi, Yuuji started to feel more like Sam and Megumi Frodo. No matter what happens, even if it would cost him his life, Yuuji's never gonna leave Megumi alone in despair. Megumi has become weak in mind and spirit that he's possibly on the verge of giving everything up. Still, Yuuji's not going to give up on him. He will destroy Sukuna and carry Megumi back home.

In the end, if Yuuji survives, all I could ever think of is his eyes full of insurmountable despair and mourning over the lives of the people he loved and lost. There's no going back after this. I can only hope that after the end of this story, Yuuji could still find a way to rest—be with a person or in a place—if there is anyone or anything left at all.

[fraugwinska]

Part 2 of the Alchemist series - No smut today,but I had this idea in my head and couldn't continue NOT writing it. And don't worry - those two will have time enough in Part 3 for some biological studies! :> TW: Emotional turmoils, Graphic depictions of torture and violence Read at your own discretion. As always minors - please exit to the right, DNI, this is an 18+ space

Your assistant flinched when you threw another rack of test tubes against the walls, the black, polished tiles to your feet covered in shards of glass and bubbling, oil-like liquids.

"M-Ma'am, please, ", she pleaded, kneading the pink, naked tail that peeked out of her lab coat nervously in her hands while she backed away as your grabbed the big Erlenmeyer flask still sitting over the bunsen burner, fizzing as if in mockery. "i-it's better than number 52. Isn't that progress...?"

Failed. Again, you had failed.

"Idiots call it progress...", You held the flask up, cold flames of renewed anger licking down your spine. "I call it A FUCKING DISGRACE!"

The rat demon squeaked when the glass crashed on the floor as you howled in frustration, the black gas that evaporated with a hiss and the dark purple flames the substance evoked enough to make her run out the door and out of the laboratory with a sob, the sound of her heels clicking in the hallway a grim farewell and final goodbye to a fairly good assistant.

You slumped back against a work bench and put your hands in the pockets of your coat, struggling with your breathing to calm down. The painful hunger in you scratched at your insides, this insatiable need that appeared ever since...

Ever since you returned to your laboratory that day, ever since your last encounter with the Radio Demon. The image of Alastor and his shadow flashing up in front of you. How you were deceived and subdued by him, outsmarted by him and most humiliating, how you had liked it. It should've left nothing but disdain and anger inside you, instead it left an aching want, a restless desire for filling the gaping hole of knowledge you had been faced with as well as your paradox craving for another fight ending inevitably into your submission. Defiant to do something about the latter, you had begun to at least try to satisfy the first.

You were usually okay with failure as part of the scientific progress. A failed experiment only meant an additional tool in your hand on your surefire way to success. But never did success seem so impossible to you. Every new try of recreating the shadows that had so efficiently overpowered you felt like a rerun of your previous one. You had exhausted your knowledge, rewritten the same hypotheses over and over and burned through five assistants since. These angry outbursts were so unlike you - but as the number of failed experiments rose so did your temper, and the higher your anger, the harder it became to concentrate.

Alastor haunted your mind, infiltrated your rationale with images of a teasing smile, flesh threatening to burst beneath black and sharp claws, burning red eyes staring at you from the wet heat of your core. You hadn't eaten in two weeks, hadn't slept in nearly as long, had spent all your waking hours locked away in here in a futile attempt of fleeing these emotions that were so obstructive to your work. You were obsessively reading your books, furiously rereading your notes, desperately starting test after test, trial after trial to try and satiate this thirst only to be left even more parched. You knew it wouldn't be long before you inevitably would have to drink, even if you knew it waould be poison.

"I can't go on like this..." you sighed into the deafening silence of your laboratory.

There was a certain pep in the Radio Demon's step as he walked through the streets of the Pentagram, humming to himself as sinners parted and hid away wherever he went. Alastor reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat, unfolding the little note that had sent him in high spirits and rereading it with impish glee.

'To: The Radio DemonRegarding: Our most recent encounter

Alastor, I hope this note will find you well. I'd like to discuss the possibility of a mutually beneficial arrangement regarding our personal and professional feud. If you agree to a meeting, a table at RAUM in the Entertainment District will be reserved tomorrow at 9 p.m. PST (Pride Standard Time)

Best Regards,The Alchemist'

He laughed to himself at the forced choice of words, the tenseness evident in every neatly drawn letter and the obvious refusal of showing even one hint of familiarity. He had known he'd just have to give the proverbial ball a little nudge - his little note so easily snuck into her lab coat by his shadow companion - and let it roll, patiently waiting long enough to see it finally crush the prideful, stubborn resistance of the little sinner known as The Alchemist in the end. Although, he had to admit it took longer than he had expected.

His spies had been useful in keeping track of her ego crumbling - the chimp, roach and gerbil sinners that she hired as assistants all painted him the same picture - that the poor woman descended more and more into restless obsession by trying day and night to solve the mystery of his shadowy companion. The last one of her henchmen, a meek little rat girl, added a curious detail to the usual report that had Alastor's self-confidence booming: That, on the rare occasion that she fell asleep on her workbench, the Alchemist seemed to writhe and whimper - calling out a name.

His name.

He could hear it, her voice, the usual dismissive contempt replaced with poorly repressed desire and urgency, breathing his name while rendered helpless and at the mercy of his hands and tongue. What a rush it had been, to see his rival and latest person of interest fall apart under his doing, breaking her stoic and methodical facade to reveal the raw and weak creature she was deep down. What a divine image, seeing the haughty, refractory Alchemist beneath him, squirming and gasping and panting beneath his touch that she begged for, seeing and feeling her whole body turn against her, reduced to a groaning heap. How delicious it had tasted, not just her, but the satisfaction in knowing he'd forever carry the taste of her and his victory.

But when the moment approached to end her, to finally wipe her off the face of hell, it spoiled in his mouth, turning from sweet into bitter. He had planned it to be his grand finale: To kill her after showing her blatant inadequacy compared to him, bound by his shadow and thoroughly humiliated - But he found himself unable to.

Rosie was the only one he told about that day, and her reply to his retelling had him brooding ever since.

"You know, Alastor - The only difference between hate and love is that hatred doesn't fear the death of the one at our mercy."

He had almost cursed at his oldest friend. The ridiculous idea alone was unsettling. Alastor never had interest in the concept of loving something or someone - he had felt no need to either. The methods he used were chosen due to this wretched urge he felt every time she had crossed his path. He hadn't been unfamiliar with these emotions stirring in him - but the intensity of them had him struggle, had him furious at the effect she had on everything that made him the powerful, ruthless overlord that he had become. To think this unhealthy fascination with her powers, how riled up and agitated he got just seeing her in her resulote disinterest in power or status, the joy he felt sparring with her as she held her fort against him had been anything other than feelings of rivalry. But hell had a habit of twists like this - that what he thought was hatred turned out just the opposite. He still wasn't certain how he'd handle this predicament, but her note had been the perfect catalyst to explore the potential this little change held for him.

Just as the clock tower of Pride's main city began to strike nine, his destination so close - Something wrapped around his ankles and wrists, and hadn't Alastor been so lost in his thoughts he would've had enough time and mind to dodge the cables that had slithered towards him. A second too late he realized just what building he was in front of, before he was violently dragged by the electrified strings, out of the street and into the darkness behind the blue sliding doors of 'VoxTech Enterprises'.

"I thought" he heard a familiar, suave voice resounding in the pitch black darkness around him as the doors slid close, dripping of malicious glee that had Alastor furious behind his smiling mask "that with old age comes wisdom, Al. Seems you've skipped that phase and went straight to senile."

Alastor heard Vox's laugh, amplified from every direction. His hands and feet were spread apart, leaving him hanging with no sense of direction or solid ground beneath him. Without light, summoning his shadow was a useless endeavor - one of the only things Alastor regrettably shared with what was once a trusted partner not too long ago. And the only light was the laughably negligible red glow of his eyes, losing the battle against the black void around him. His best bet was to be buying time, so he decided to humor the fool until chance would show itself.

"Ah, no, I do quite remember your lack of imagination when it comes to these sorts of affairs." Alastor chuckled, a slight static distortion lacing his voice as the anger within him grew. "Glad to see that's at least one thing that hasn't changed."

Electricity burst from the wires that pulled him even further apart, sending shockwaves through him as Alastor's smile widened at Vox's inability to hide his rage.

"Mighty cocky for someone who's got his ass on the line, eh, old pal?" in the distance, a screen turned on, dim and flickering, showing the face of the smirking tv demon. "Tell me, Al, was it just stupidity that brought you right to my doorstep? Or did you already miss me that much?"

Alastor laughed mockingly, concentrating enough to at least create a shadow in the weak light around Vox's screen to smash it in before it dsappeared. "If I recall correctly, you were the one begging me not to leave, Voxxy. How is your face these days, by the way?"

The screen flickered as Vox's eyes went wild. "You motherf-"

"As to what brought me to these parts of our illustrious city," Alastor continued, gritting his teeth as another surge of electricity shot down his spine, making his shoulders jerk painfully in the tight cable's grip. "I was on my way to meet someone who is actually worth my while."

"Oh yeah? Well, they can send me a Thank-You-Note for saving them the disappointment your 'while' would've brought them." Vox sneered, a mocking smile appearing on the broken screen as he bared his teeth in a snarl. "Face it - You're done, Al. Finished. You can't do shit in here. I created this room specifically for you to die in - thanks for the intel, by the way. And believe me - I could kill you here and now, get rid of a fucking nuisance for everybody, and be called a hero for it. But for old time's sake, I'll offer you my deal once more." His joints cracked under the pressure of the pulling cables, and Alastor yanked in cold fury at them. Vox's voice was saturated with sadistic glee. "Join my team, be my second in command, my real partner this time and not a fucking uptight coward, and I'll spare you the humiliation of a slow, torturous and publicly viewed dea..."

A sudden boom had the cables and the screen shake and flicker, the image of Vox's face breaking up in pixels. Alastor felt his chest filling with a sudden eager anticipation of what - or who - the source of that explosion might've been. With a hiss, Vox's screen was restored to full resolution again, but his eyes were wide in confusion. "What the fuck was that?"

Alastor's laughter echoed across the room as another, louder explosion followed, along with panicked screams of pain and horror and he smiled over to the shocked overlord, heart beating with feverish euphoria. If the intensity of the detonations were any indicator, he was about to see a marvelous show of what true power looked like.

"It seems, old pal, that my date has arrived."

Vox didn't get to say anything else before one of the walls burst into its components and the room filled with the bright light of the neon signs illuminating the district, and amidst the clouds of dust settling, stood his darling alchemist. Her lab coat was stained in every beautiful shade of red, face and skin smeared with soot and the remnants of blood that wasn't hers, a look in her eyes that was so unhinged it made him shudder with all kinds of arousal, the aura around her glowing in a dangerous toxic green. Although her chest was heaving, there was no trace of exhaustion to her, only pure, cold rage.

"What the hell is going on? And who the fuck are you?!"

She didn't pay Vox any attention, walking up to Alastor as he ripped the remaining bits and pieces of cords and cables from his arms, her heels clacking loudly on the polished concrete floor.

"You are right on time, darling."

"And you were not - our table was canceled." Alastor had to refrain himself from giggling in feverish excitement as she walked past him, towards the stunned television demon that had been thrown into the back of the room by the force of the explosion and now leaned with his back against the wall, his expression mortified behind the cracked, flickering screen.

“Polyethylene, glass, sauter, copper, lead, platinum, silicone." Her voice was cold and calculating, each word a step closer and Vox shrunk away further into the wall behind him. Her face was neutral, a mask devoid of emotion and any trace of empathy or emotion, but her eyes sparkled full of life and fire. "But even though there are so many valuable building blocks in your electronic equipment - I can't say I appreciate the use."

She put her palm over Vox's monitor in an almost comforting gesture, her lips curling into a cruel smile as his casing started to melt and Vox screamed.

"Especially when it leaves me hungry and waiting for my dinner partner."

Alastor marveled at the beauty and precision of her strength and the effortless way she wielded it, her mind calculating every atom of Vox's technology, rendering the presumptous perfection of hell's television and phone industry to a wailing mess, his limbs and body twitching helplessly at the mercy of her touch, screen flickering with increasing speed the more damage she did. His pulse quickened, blood rushed deafeningly loud through his ears - She was dangerous and cruel and she was perfect, she was everything and so, so much more of anything he imagined and hoped her to be.

She let off Vox, his face half gone, his remaining speakers whimpering in agony and body trembling as she stood upright, looking down at the demon in disgust.

"Repeat this mistake and I will make sure I'll be there to slowly and painfully disintegrate you every time you start to respawn anew, Television Demon."

Alastor appeared beside her, making use of his shadows now that the requirement of light was covered, looking at the beaten form of his unfortunate rival with an amused laugh before taking his little alchemist's hand, breathing a kiss onto it with a smile.

"I apologize for the missed reservation, darling, but we can't have you left starving, can we? How about we relocate to my townhouse - I'll whip up a nice Pain Perdu while we discuss your... proposal, yes?"

When her face turned to him, her features slightly softened around the edges - barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but all too obvious to him, who had thought, dreamt and obsessed over her likeness enough times to see every tiny shift in her expression, even those one could interpret as her rare, discreet show of joy.

"I suppose that's an acceptable compromise."

It made the gnawing hunger inside him become all the more insatiable when she let him pull her closer, her hand still in his - warm and stained with remnants of Vox's fluids. He gave her the brightest of smiles as the destroyed room filled with radio static and his shadows swirled and wrapped themselves around them, shooting his wounded, rancorous ex-companion a sneering smile.

"I, again, have to disrespectfully decline your offer, my dear Vox. I'd rather invest my time into more..." He looked back at her, giving her an intense, heated gaze he refused to hide anymore, and the smile lingering on her lips growing into one that was just as sharp as his, and yet so much more endearing given its rarity. "...innovative propositions, I think is the right word."

Within a moment, the black swirls faded into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the shuddering, crying mess of the tv overlord behind.

Tagging for scientific purposes (based on comments/reblogs): @minkdelovely @macabr3-barbi3 @depressinglyobsessed @tywrites @mydickisjuicy

@littlebluefishtail @catticora @cosmiccandydreamer @anngray1369 @angeldustharmony

@jurijyuu @liz776 @selenezq

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ eyes on me

Pairing - nerd!shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 10.7k (just vibe with me)

Contains - smut (18+), switch!shuri, switch!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, choking/gagging/breathplay, throat-fucking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, strap-on, breeding kink, slight bondage (not really) mean!reader, just FILTH, some angst, some fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @venusdraco @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Writers Note: this is 100% inspired by @oceean and her story as well as her nerd!shuri head cannons she wrote, I fell in love instantly and just knew I had to write her! Thank you so much for your inspiration! I was also inspired by at least 2 of @pocketsizedpanther writing prompts (I won’t say which ones until the end) but thank you so much to you both for your incredible ideas! I apologize in advance for some of the readers actions but bear with me…enjoy this filthy fic!

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The night before clouded your mind as you sat with the girl in front of you: Amari. While she wasn't officially your girlfriend, she meant more to you than just "friends with benefits" as defined by society. Amari fucked you hard enough to keep you around, yet you hoped she would take the initiative to make your whatever relationship you had with her official. However, that day never arrived, leaving you questioning if it ever would. And it’s not like you were afraid to take charge and ask her to be yours, but deep down you knew she simply wanted to have a good time with you, using you at her own convenience and keeping you close without the obligations of having to care for you beyond your body's physical needs, without having to love you beyond the way you made each other feel in bed.

And that is why your mind wandered to your previous night.

Your academic abilities were never impressive; in fact, you often questioned your overall intelligence, especially considering your past choices in romantic partners. However, Shuri willingly stepped in to assist you with your studies. Yet, the more time she spent helping you, the more you became aware of her remarkable beauty—the sharp contours of her face and the enticing fullness of her lips. Unable to resist, you found yourself captivated by her gaze, leading to an unexpected, breathtaking kiss between you both. It caught you both off guard but possessed a mesmerizing allure. She treated you delicately, and that moment was all it amounted to—a kiss that stirred emotions within you that you weren't certain you wanted to experience, yet undeniably, you did.

A firm kiss on your knuckles brought from Amari’s lips settled your mind back to her and your surroundings. Once she realized she had your attention, Amari reached out, intertwining her fingers with yours and placing another kiss upon your knuckles, evoking a forced laugh from you.

“What’s wrong, y/n? You’ve been quiet the whole time and don’t say ‘nothing’ cause I know your ass don’t know when to shut up, always talking. So what’s wrong?”

Nothing was wrong, per se, but how were you gonna tell her how you invited Shuri to your little brunch ‘date’? It was hardly a date though. Amari didn’t take you out on dates.

“Nothing,” you replied, subtly rolling your eyes in a way that you had hoped she wouldn’t notice but she did.

“I saw that.”

“You saw what?”

“You always rolling your eyes at something, so tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, I should probably just tell you I invited Shuri today. She’ll probably be here soon actually.”

“Shuri? Like…Udaku?”

“No, the other Shuri,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes yet again.

“The fuck? What is she coming here for?”

Truth be told, you weren’t entirely certain what possessed you to invite Shuri to your brunch with Amari. You didn't even bother mentioning to Shuri that she would be there. But what you were certain of was this: you desired to experience her presence once more, to have her in a space that extended beyond the confines of your bedroom. You longed to observe how she would make you feel while Amari stood before you, curious if her mere presence would overshadow Amari's, despite your hopes that it wouldn't.

“Because why the fuck not? No one ever invites her to anything and plus she’s always helping me and shit with literally…everything. She deserves to get out every once in a while.”

The cafe was fairly quiet, allowing the gentle jingle of the door chime to catch both of your attentions simultaneously. It was Shuri, looking slightly awkward with her book bag slung over her shoulder and a petite bouquet of flowers in her hand. Amari couldn't help but release a soft yet teasing chuckle, prompting you to retaliate by lightly hitting her shoulder.

“Be nice,” you demand.

“Yuh huh.”

“I’m being for real, don’t fuck around.”

“Yeah y/n, whatever.”

Shuri scanned the café until her gaze finally locked onto yours. An intense gulp passed through her, her grip tightening on the book bag as she navigated her way toward the two of you. Seeing you accompanied by another person caused her head to droop slightly, her heart sinking as she held onto the bouquet of yellow and pink tulips. While taking her seat at the vacant spot around the table, she licked her lips causing Amari to release yet another derisive chuckle. You glared at her, using your eyes as a means to tell her to shut up.

“Shuri, Amari. Amari, Shuri,” you say, acquainting the two girls to one another.

“Hi,” Shuri responds, making eye contact with no one but the wooden table underneath her. For a brief moment, a pang of guilt washed over you. You could simply sense the deep nervousness emanating from Shuri's entire being, evident in her difficulty to maintain eye contact with either of you. You alone had the power to make her tremble, make her trip over her words, but with Amari now present in the equation, her nervousness seemed to escalate beyond measure.

Amari looked at you, raising an eyebrow in question of your decision to invite her here but you shrug your shoulders back at her. Initially, you made an effort to engage Shuri in small talk, but your questions were met with short responses, her voice trembling with nerves. It reached a point where frustration and annoyance welled up within you, irritated by how Amari seemed to have Shuri so flustered. As a result, you chose to ignore Shuri for the remainder of the brunch as you indulged in flirtatious behavior with Amari. You sulked in every kiss and hold she gave you, fully aware that Shuri was observing, despite her attempts to appear uninterested. Shuri eventually retrieved her work from her book bag, delicately placing her textbook on the table as she chose to focus on her tasks rather than the moments you were sharing with someone else. An eye roll escaped you once more, a sign of your annoyance. You couldn't help but perceive her as a bit of a loser—a cute one, admittedly, but still a loser.

The brunch gradually drew to a close, marked by a scarcity of conversation between you and Shuri, who remained absorbed in her own world, diligently attending to her tasks. You exchanged your goodbye’s with Amari as she made her way out, allowing a sense of relief to settle over you. At last, you found yourself alone with Shuri.

You turn your body to face hers and for the first time in what seems like the whole time she was there, her eyes met yours. You ignored the way your heart skipped a beat with the way her gaze made you feel, eyeing the bouquet of tulips that rested beside her text book.

“Who are these for?,” you teased, plucking a petal off and flicking it at her face. Shuri winced at the gesture, pressing her glasses into her face as she gathered the courage to tell them they were meant for you. The sight of Amari holding your hand, kissing you, embracing your body made her feel small. Weak. Nothing compared to the sharp presence the other girl carried.

“Well…I brought them for you but then…I saw you with her. So nevermind I guess.”

A gentle chuckle escaped your lips, a mix of delight and uncertainty, as you appreciated the gesture of her gift. Being given flowers was a new experience for you, especially after sharing such a small, insignificant moment. Shuri, however, looked down in a state of embarrassment, wishing to disappear into a void as she set the flowers on the ground. She found no amusement in the situation but your laughter persisted, raising her sense of humiliation. Gradually, your laughter subsided as you composed yourself to find the right words.

“No Shuri, no. I love them, it’s just…look baby. Just because we shared some lame kiss last night doesn’t make us lovers, ok? Don’t get that shit twisted.” Your words were a bit harsh, that you can admit, but you wanted the point to get to her. “Do you understand me?”

She nods and a small smile appears on your face. “Good.”

You look down at her work, almost entranced by numbers and letters that scatter across her paper in patterns unknown to you. Truly, you couldn’t care less about what she was working on, but you wanted to hear Shuri talk, listen to her voice and the quality it carried.

“What’s that you’re working on, baby?” Your tone was low, sultry, a tool to invite her in to observe the way she would give into you. She looked up at you, a hint of thrill masking her beautiful face at the question and your heart grew at the way she lit up. She began to talk about nonsense that meant nothing to you, growing in excitement as you grew in boredom. True to your slightly mean nature, you yawned, almost intentionally knocking down her enthusiasm and her face grew saddened, choking down her words as you belittled her.

“Come on Shuri, I’m playing. You know I don’t actually care about this shit. Don’t act all surprised now.”

Shuri sighs, shutting the textbook as she stuffs it back in her book bag. She stands up, preparing to leave and her action catches you off guard.

“Uh uh..sit down. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I…why did you invite me here? You clearly don’t want me to be here and you’re being mean.”

You couldn’t help but let out another small laugh. As much as you were trying to fess up to her, fit into her bubble, she made you giggle. You grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down onto her chair and she complied without objection. You tenderly pinched her jaw, forcing her to look at you because you were tired of the lack of eye contact she was making with you.

“I’m not being mean, Shuri, you’re just too easy to poke fun at. Loosen up and have a little fun.”

Her eyes beamed at you, a sly smile appearing on her face as you began to subtly caress her strong features. She surrendered to your touch willingly, almost as though she had yearned for this moment for an eternity. Your fingers brushed against her glasses, causing Shuri to instinctively recoil ever so slightly from your embrace.

“What’s the matter? You look adorable in these,” you mention, lightly tapping the frame. You pull them off of her in a playful manner and instant fear strikes her gaze.

“Please don’t…don’t break them please.”

You smile, placing them on your face. You scan the room, unable to see a thing through her glasses.

“Damn, Shuri. You got some shitty ass prescription, don’t you?”

Her throat tightens as she struggles to respond, fearing that you may damage her glasses. You observe her unease, her fidgeting, yet you choose to disregard it. Instead, you open up your Snapchat camera, relishing in how pretty you feel in her glasses.

“How do I look?,” you asked playfully, ruffling your fingers through your curls. Shuri’s eyes disconnected from yours once more, looking down at the ground as she mumbled.

“You look really pretty, y/n.”

You clenched her jaw once more, this time with a tad bit more force as you made her eyes bore into yours for what you hoped to be the last time.

“Hmmm? Look at me angel when you say shit like that. Again, Shuri. How do I look?” You found immense satisfaction in the power dynamics that enveloped your interactions with her. The dominance you exuded in her presence delighted you to no end. Shuri's trembling before you served as a subtle affirmation of her desire, a constant reminder of how deeply she yearned to be with you and it made you feel desirable; a feeling you hardly felt when you were with Amari.

“Y-you look really pretty…with my glasses on.”

You smile tenderly, placing the glasses on her face as you bop her nose with your finger, making you both giggle. Her smile made you feel warm.

“There’s a party going on tonight, can you come please?” You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really a party person, y/n. Plus I got stuff to do.”

“Yeah? Like what? Sit at home and do this boring shit all day?,” you say, mentioning Shuri’s school work. “Have some fun for once. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” Although your words were demanding, your tone was soft, more gentle as you didn’t want to frighten the already trembling Shuri in front of you.

“I’m not leaving here until you agree…I wanna see you again Shuri.”

She grapples with crafting a response to your stern words, driven by a strong desire to satisfy you and bring you joy, because she too wanted to spend time with you, engage in conversation, but ultimately, she craved your undivided attention. She longed for you exclusively and alone.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Shuri? Speak to me.”

“Where’s the party gonna be?,” she mumbles, and this time you allow it.

“At Amari’s house.”

She subtly crinkles her nose, a faint eye roll following and you raise an eyebrow at her mannerisms. You were well aware of the motive behind her reaction, but you wanted to hear it verbalized by her.

“What?”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with Amari’s house?”

“Nothing…”

“Then what’s the long face for, Shuri?”

She releases a weary sigh, opting to remain silent as you patiently anticipate an answer she chooses not to provide. You roll your eyes in response as you pull out your phone to text her the address.

“Party starts at 9:00, I’ll see you there. And it’s not a question.”

As she attempts to open her mouth in protest, you swiftly bring your finger to her lips, silencing any words before they can escape. The tension in her throat becomes apparent as she swallows hard, the bobbing motion a testament to her internal struggle. With a tender kiss upon her lips, you convey your longing to meet again without having to explicitly acknowledge it verbally. But to Shuri, it meant something completely different; she yearned for you deeply but you just didn’t have the capacity to reciprocate her needs. Not yet anyway.

“I’ll see you later, Shuri.” Your final words before taking off, leaving Shuri with nothing but the pink and yellow tulips she brought for you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You leaned your body into Amari’s, red cup in both of your hands as you indulged in the liquid inside. The pulsating music coursed through your veins, dictating your every movement as you sensually pressed your body against the woman behind you.

“You look so sexy tonight,” Amari whispered into you, her voice sending a deep chill up your spine.

“Yeah…that’s all I look like to you nowadays.”

“What does that mean?”

You took another sip of your drink, savoring the sting that poured down your throat.

“Nothing,” you replied. You continued to sway in rhythm, moving sensually as Amari handled every inch of your body like she owned you. It seemed as though she genuinely desired you, and for an instant, her actions almost swayed you. You were aware of what she craved in that very moment – she yearned for your submission, for your vulnerability, wanting you to surrender completely to her touch. And with each passing second, you found yourself succumbing a little more to her allure. However, your attention abruptly shifted as you noticed who had just entered through the door; her bookbag on her shoulder while still grasping onto the tulips you were meant to take earlier and your heart sank at the image. You had underestimated the hurt that Shuri must have felt, leaving behind the flowers she had brought you. Your mind had been too preoccupied with other matters to fully comprehend your actions.

“I’ll be right back,” you spat, chugging down your last bit of alcohol.

“Where you going, baby?”

“I said I’ll be back.”

Amari picked up on your tone and you're thankful she chose not to engage in an argument at that moment. She pulled you closer, pressing your back into her chest as she placed a tipsy kiss into your cheek before harshly letting your body go. Shuri patiently waited for you by the door, visibly exhaling with relief as you made your way towards her. With a discreet gesture, you beckoned Shuri to step aside, hoping to avoid Amari's notice. You appreciated the fact that Amari resided in a spacious house with several roommates, as it allowed you to swiftly guide Shuri into the bustling crowd, sinking into a secluded corner where prying eyes would not find you. Shuri trembled, but this was nothing unfamiliar. It was precisely the way you wanted her to be.

“You made it,” you playfully remarked, draping your arms around her neck, initiating a gentle swaying motion in sync with the music. Shuri quickly caught on to your intentions, recognizing your subtle efforts to coax her into dancing with you.

“I-I’ve never done this before,” she stammers, clearly tense from her own self-doubt.

“You’re doing amazing, baby, just follow my movements.”

It took a moment or two, but Shuri gradually let her guard down, slowly allowing herself to indulge in the intoxicating combination of your presence and the music. Once you notice her growing comfort in your embrace, you dangerously decide to escalate the intensity. You spun your body around, pressing your back into her chest and it initially caught her off guard, but she adjusted to the new dynamic. You gently pressed your ass into her crotch area, igniting a deep fire within Shuri that caused her face to grow warm. You smiled, because even though she wasn’t directly facing you, you could sense the heavy pound of her heart break out of her chest and fall onto your back.

“Just relax, Shuri,” you whispered and she obliged, resting her head into your shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice the dampness that began to form in between your legs. It was silly to you, how easily you became aroused with Shuri with just her presence alone. She bravely pecked a kiss into your neck and you figured that was your que.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

“Hmm?”

You turned around to face her, met with a body that screamed in fear but eyes that longed in desperation.

“You heard me, baby. Answer me.”

Her head sunk low as she gathered the courage to reply to you. Shuri wanted you desperately. She wanted to explore you, feel you, make you feel good and watch you as you gave into her touch. This, her mind was absolutely sure of so she did not let her mouth betray her. Not this time.

“Yeah.”

“Louder Shuri, I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, y/n. I wanna go upstairs.”

You smile. “Perfect.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“What’s on your mind, Shuri? Open yourself to me.”

Shuri’s hands trembled, her palms growing sweaty as she anxiously waited for you to make the first move. For a moment, the room seemed to close in on her, suffering her with a mix of anticipation and self-doubt but once you pressed your lips into hers, it was as if all fear had been lifted, basking in the way you carried the kiss. You wrapped your arms around her neck, your nose bumping her glasses and you giggled at the touch. Your lipgloss smears on her lips, and she savors the taste of you, lingering in the love you gave her now.

“You’re so beautiful Shuri,” you say, and you mean it with every fiber of your being. “Tell me you want this, that you crave this as much as I do. I want to know that you’re ok.”

“I want this,” she replies instantly, her fast response quickening the beat of your heart and the beat that began rising in between your thighs. “I want you so bad, y/n.”

Shuri scrunches your mini dress up to your hips, her eyes growing wide at the damp spot that formed on your panties. You opened your legs wide for her as she became more and more mesmerized with the way you soaked through the material.

“C-can I touch you? Please…?”

“My legs are open for you, baby. Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

She swallows, consuming a huge intake of oxygen as her fingers trace the contours of your body. With affectionate care, she caresses you, as if desiring to prolong this moment indefinitely. Once her hands find your pussy, she pulls off the fabric and swiftly discards it aside, all while her eyes become deeply fixated on your glistening center. Without delay, she glides her tattooed fingertips between your sticky folds, causing you to sharply inhale at the sensation. Your nerves quiver under her touch as she drags her fingers across your pounding clit. She takes the tips of her index and middle fingers and applies pressure to the sensitive bud, moving them in a circular motion that forces a moan to escape your throat.

“Do you like this?,” she asked and you grew confused because here you were, a moaning mess with her fingers covered in your slick and she was asking if you liked it.

“Yes, unh, yes Shuri…ooo fuck yes. Just like that baby, keep going. Unh.”

Her hands were skillful, pressing into your bundle of nerves that made your throb intensify, your gut beginning to clench as you felt your release approach. Shuri skillfully directed her fingers down to your entrance, pressing against your tight opening without fully submerging herself into you. She traced delicate circles around your entrance, watching the way you squirmed in desperation as your pussy grappled with her fingers, trying to draw her in. A crooked smile graced Shuri’s face as she witnessed how hungry your body grew for her, how needy your pussy became for fingers and the sight of you made her own pussy clench around nothing. Finally, she dipped her fingers into you, and your mouth fell open in awe as her skilled digits effortlessly found that precise spot inside you that yearned for her touch.

“Oh my god, Shuri, yes. YES. Right there.”

She thrusted into you, your pussy clenching her fingers frantically as your legs squeezed together in pleasure, but Shuri wasn’t having it. She wanted to see you, get lost in the sight of your longing and how much your pussy swallowed her fingers.

“Please y/n, keep your legs open. I want to see you.”

With a deliberate motion, she spread your legs apart once more, granting herself a perfect vantage point of what belonged to her. She observed you intently, studying the way your mouth dropped open, the way your eyes rolled back and refocused to meet her gaze, the way her name sounded falling off your pretty, sinful lips.

“You’re so pretty.”

And with that, she brought her fingers from her other hand into play, pressing them against your sensitive clit while her other hand remained immersed in your soaked pussy.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, y/n. I wanna know that I’m making you feel good.”

“Shuri…fuck. Oh my god…you make me…you make my pussy feel so fucking good.”

And this much was true. A feeling that left your entire body tingling, your chest heaving up and down as you struggled to keep up with your shattered breathing pattern.

“Mmm. H-how are you s-so…unh…fuck…so good at this? UNH.”

“I know my human anatomy very well.”

“Of course y-you do, baby. Of course you fucking do. Shit. FUCK. I’m gonna…fuck Shuri.”

“You’re close. I can feel it, y/n.” She was absolutely correct. “Can I taste you?”

Your head swings forward in surprise at her question, almost inclined to shake your head in disagreement as you were already overwhelmed with the way Shuri was fucking you like you meant nothing and everything all at once; but there was a desperate plea of innocence coated in Shuri’s eyes for how much she longed to place her mouth in between your thighs that made it so much more difficult to deny her request.

“Go ahead Shuri, taste me.”

With wide eyes and a shy grin, she positions your legs over her shoulders, eagerly indulging in the act of pleasuring you with the ways of her tongue and the way she devours you is nothing short of orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! Oh my fuck, Shuri. UNH.”

The Shuri who could calculate the most impossible calculations in a spliff or create the most inventive of things in days was sucking your drenched pussy as if you were her own experiment, her own assignment to complete until you were shivering in her grasp.

Her tongue was skillful, coated with your cream as she flicked and pressed into you. She brought her chin and nose into play, swiping through your slit and the sensation was euphoric, sending electric waves throughout your pussy that radiated throughout the rest of your body in thick motions.

“Oh fuck Shuri, fuck baby, keep doing that. You’re doing in-incredible. Mmm, yeah, Unh.”

You looked down at her, dark orbs never leaving your gaze as she basked in the sight of you. She wanted to keep you like this forever, and this proved evident through the way she placed her fingers back into your snug cunt.The overwhelming pleasure consumed you as her tongue caressed your clit and her fingers delved inside, expertly targeting your g-spot simultaneously. The sensation of her glasses brushing against your inner thighs heightened the experience, as she continued to ask for your reassurance.

“Please, y/n. Tell me how I’m doing. Do you feel good?,” she asked before proceeding to suck on your puffy clit.

“I’m so wet for you, Shuri. Don’t stop…I’m s-so close. Fuck .”

You placed your hand on the top of her head, grasping her soft curls as her fervent stimulation at your core became sloppier and heavier. Your pussy clenched her fingers, your clit fluttering against her taste buds and the double penetration propelled you swiftly towards your climax. With a few more dual pumps and licks, you were sent over the edge, completely vanquished from head to toe by the deep and slow pulsations that coursed through your pussy walls.

“Yeah! YEAH! AHH…yes Shuri, oh my…f-FUCK.”

Your cries in pleasure did not force Shuri to stop her movements both in and on you, continuing to fuck you as your cunt spasmed beneath her touch, your vision becoming nothing but a foggy haze.

“Shit Shuri, I’m cumming babe, I’m cumming!,” you struggled to say, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

“I know. I heard you. I just like seeing you like this,” she hums into your pussy.

She released her fingers from inside you as she stuck her tongue out fully, allowing you to ride your throbbing clit against her tongue. Your slick was audible against her, a loud sloshing sound that mixed in with your vile moans; a musical duo that made Shuri’s pussy clench in satisfaction.

“SHURI.”

As your mind and body struggled to descend from your blissful high, the shaking girl beneath you raised her body to meet your gaze once again. Her face bore the evidence of your intimate encounter as your cum glistened against her, staining the lenses of her glasses. You reached out your hand to caress her cheek in an attempt to soothe her nerves.

“W-what’s wrong baby? Why are you shaking?,” you managed to say through your own post-orgasmic state.

“Was…was that ok?”

You almost scoff at her unbelievable question.

“Baby…your head was between my trembling thighs and my pussy’s still beating …how are you even asking me this shit right now?”

She remains silent as her eyes scan your face, never quite connecting with yours as her face flushed with warmth. Your lips press against hers, savoring in your flavor, and she responds with a soft yet passionate moan.

“Let me take care of you, Shuri,” you say, beginning to unbuckle her pants but she holds your wrists, pausing you midway. With a deep inhale, she presses her forehead on yours, bringing your knuckles to her lips.

“Not tonight, y/n. I just wanted to make you feel good.” Her voice was low and husky, probably the clearest words she’s spoken today and it made your pussy pulse. She reaches down beside the bed, grabbing the flowers you were meant to take earlier. They weren’t as fresh as they first were, but the gesture made you want to cry.

“Fine…but don’t think I’m done with you,” you replied, retrieving the pink and yellow tulips. “I’ll see you tomorrow? 4:30? I need help with another assignment.”

“I’ll be there.”

After planting a final kiss on her swollen lips, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. It's important to you that there is no evidence of Shuri's touch remaining on your body when you return to face Amari. You know that she will undoubtedly be curious about your absence at this very moment, although deep down, you're aware that she doesn't genuinely care.

You make your way to the bathroom to restore yourself. With a touch of powder, you freshen your face and carefully apply a new layer of gloss to your lips. You took a moment to adjust your dress, which no longer hugs your body as it should, and ensure it falls perfectly. With a final adjustment to your hair, you gaze at the reflection before you, appreciating the image that stares back. You discard the flowers into the trash as it was the final evidence of your time with Shuri before heading downstairs to rejoin the party.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next day approaches, waking up in your dorm room with Amari beside you, both of you absolutely fucked out from the intense night you two shared after the party. You groaned in frustration, pulling your blanket over your head as your previous night came flooding back to memory. You looked at your clock that read 4:17pm and you cursed under your breath immediately.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The realization dawns on you that you had completely lost track of time after the party. It was nearly 4 am when you finally made it back to your room, fucking with Amari for a good amount of time after before you had finally passed out from exhaustion. Shuri promised she’d be in for 4:30pm to help with your assignment and you were far from ready. You opened your messages to text her, hoping she’d be ok to reschedule for a later time.

*Hey does 7 work? I got caught up in some shit*

Three bubbles pop up on the screen almost immediately.

*Yeah, that works.*

*thank youuuuu*

*you’re welcome :).*

You started pushing at Amari to wake her up. “Babe, wake up. I got shit to do.”

“Hmmmm?,” she replies, still half asleep.

“I said get up. I need you to go.”

After a few minutes, she finally gets up, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Damn y/n, what’s the rush?”

“We overslept.”

“It’s a sunday babe, we can sleep however long we want.”

You sigh, pinching the top of your nose as you inhale deeply. “Look Amari, I just need you to go. I got shit to do.”

“What’s with the fucking attitude?”

Truthfully, you weren’t entirely sure where the sudden attitude was coming from but what you did know was you were beginning to grow deeply frustrated with how much Shuri was fogging your mind.

“I ain’t got no damn attitude but I will if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”

Amari scoffs. “The fuck is your damn problem? Don’t tell me this has anything to do with that girl.”

“Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. I ain’t stupid, I saw those flowers in the trash can yesterday. Those same damn pink and yellow flowers. Who were you with last night when you were gone?”

A tight feeling began to wrench in your gut, accompanied by a sense of embarrassment short after.

“You just opening your legs for anybody now??”

“Does that bother you??”

“Yes that fucking bothers me, y/n.”

“I don’t see what your damn problem is with that, we ain’t even together.”

“Here your fucking ass goes again with this stupid conversation.”

You theatrically express your annoyance, intending to make your way towards the bathroom, but Amari seizes your wrist, halting you from proceeding forward. She loomed over you as she rose to her feet, and a brief surge of fear gripped you as her anger became transparent. Her eyes grew in that sense of possession that flared up everytime she thought you had been with someone else.

“Just can’t keep your legs closed, huh?”

“What is it to you?? What am I to you?? Besides a pussy you can fuck whenever you want because you know I’m so fucking easy.”

She lets go of your wrist, taking her place back down on the edge of the bed.

“She ain’t ever gonna fulfill your needs, princess. You’re too much of a brat.”

“I’m only that way when people bring that shit side outta me! How many times have I made it clear that I wanted you?? And you lured me in just to keep me around at your damn convenience, I’m sick of being your plaything!”

“Well apparently you for everybody now, so I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

Your frustration grew exponentially the more words pooled out of Amari’s mouth, driving you to a point where you could no longer tolerate being around her. You made your way towards the door, opening it with a deep aggravation.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I said leave. I don’t wanna see you.”

She snickers under her breath, making her way towards the door. Before she exits, she pauses at the threshold, turning around to face you as she leans on the doorframe.

“I’ll be at my place when you're done being a bitch.”

You roll your eyes at her, nudging her body out of the door frame before slamming the door in her face. Amari’s laugh rings through the door causing a shiver down your spine.

“Ain’t no way some nerd gonna fuck that pussy better than I can, y/n!,” she yells through the door. You exhale in relief, grateful to finally be alone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

As 7pm approaches, you prepare yourself, donning a stylish two-piece pajama set that accentuates your figure just right, revealing the perfect hint of cleavage without appearing overly eager. You gathered your curls to the top of your head in a pineapple hairstyle and lightly applied makeup to rejuvenate your complexion. When the doorbell chimed, excitement surged through you, though you tempered your emotions. You opened the door to Shuri wearing a modest smile. You welcomed her inside, noticing a hint of weariness and sadness in her eyes, but you chose to ignore it for the time being.

“Hey y/n,” she said, and you most definitely noticed her eyes trail to your chest for a split second.

“Oh my god, thank you so much Shuri for rescheduling, some shit happened earlier and I just couldn’t fucking make it, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

The evening progressed with Shuri assisting you, fulfilling her usual role, yet an inevitable tension filled the room, causing your muscles to tense, a sensation you were able to contain. Shuri, on the other hand, struggled to maintain her composure, her voice quivering and her hands trembling with increase as the study session unfolded. Although she helped you as she normally would, her words were briefer than usual, and you couldn't help but detect a subtle undertone of attitude in her words. You allowed the tension to soak up a bit more, until you realized you had both reached your limit.

“Shuri, baby, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

Of course she was going to play dumb.

“Don’t give me that. Don’t act like you ain’t got a little attitude right now, you think I don’t notice? Shuri, you’re shaking.”

Shuri looked away, purposefully avoiding both you and your question, seemingly hoping that you would relent and let the matter go. But she should have been aware by now that you were persistent in getting what you want…almost always. Determined, you firmly clasped her jaw, gripping her chiseled face tightly, as if to convey that this should be the final instance of reminding her to maintain eye contact when speaking to you.

“Shuri, my eyes are here. How many fucking times do I got to force your eyes on me?”

She trembled within your grasp, your signal to loosen your grip on her.

“Now talk to me…what the fuck is your problem?”

You let go of her as she takes a sharp inhale. “I saw her…come out of your dorm earlier…what-why was she here?”

“Who? Amari? Yeah, and what about it?”

“I…why was she there? What even am I to you?”

You erupted into a bitter, cynical laughter, a sound that pierced through the air causing Shuri's entire being to tremble, while her heart sank in despair. The minute you left her side last night, she grew overwhelmed with an intoxicating love for you. Seeing, tasting, touching, smelling and hearing you in the most intimate of ways while you cried out her name made her fall deep. However, arriving at your dorm mere minutes before your scheduled meeting, only to witness Amari exiting your room, shattered her in ways she never thought imaginable.

“Shuri…Shuri be fucking for real,” you finally say, coming back down from your laughter. “What are you to me?? Real question is who do you think you are to me? Cuz you out here acting like we dating just cuz we fucked once, buying me flowers and shit. You need to chill.”

The room fell into an oppressive silence as your words pierced right through her; the sadness, the heartbreak, it was all etched on her face but she knew where you were speaking from. She recognized the source of your words, realizing that you, too, spoke from a place of wounded vulnerability, pouring from a fear of receiving the care and treatment you deserved for far too long now. This understanding resonated within her, for she understood all too well but the impact of your words hurt her, and she grew weary of your indecisive language.

“Where did you put the flowers, y/n?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“After all I just said, you worried about some damn flowers?? I tossed them in the trash.”

Determined not to shed tears in your presence, Shuri started gathering her belongings, preparing to leave the room and undoubtedly escape from your hurtful presence. It was in that poignant moment that you finally recognized you had overstepped a boundary. As you observed Shuri, you saw yourself reflected in her, witnessing the vulnerability of her shattered heart so openly displayed, just as you had once felt when Amari had treated you similarly. This realization struck you deeply—this time, you were the one inflicting pain, resembling the role Amari had played in your own life.

“Wait…Shuri, please. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t dare turn around while she continued to slip on her shoes, determined to leave through the door and leave you behind forever. Despite your initial resistance, you couldn't help but allow your guard to crumble, impulsively rushing towards her and enveloping her in a tight embrace. The intensity of the hug was so overwhelming that it felt as though your ribs might just crack under the pressure.

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“Please don’t go. I’m just…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Shuri.” You loosened your grip, wrapping your arms around her neck as she looked down at you. “Just…please don’t leave. Please.”

In a fleeting moment, soft glances were exchanged, and Shuri's eyes involuntarily drifted down to your lips, though she attempted to make it not seem so.

“You wanna kiss me, baby?”

She nodded.

“Then do it.”

She paused for a moment before pressing her lips into yours. Both of you embraced each other with a deep intensity, as if you had both yearned for this moment with equal longing, and as if it was a moment you wished to hold onto indefinitely. She grabbed your thigh, wrapping it around her waist as she drove herself deeper into the kiss, pulling a moan out of you that drove her insane. She was wet, absolutely salivating over you and you needed her. All of her. You wanted to hear her, taste her in the most intimate of ways. She picked you up, gently placing you back onto your bed. You wrapped your legs around her, trapping her body into yours as you continued to consume one another through heated kisses.

“I…I have something for you,” she admitted.

“Yeah? And would that be?”

“I-I want to try something…with you…if you’re ok with it.”

“I’m down for anything, my love. Just tell me what you need.”

Shuri's body shuddered against you at the choice of your words, "my love." She was aware of the potential regrets that may come from surrendering herself to you wholeheartedly, uncertain of the person you would be tomorrow but the power of your words and the warmth of your embrace compelled her to cast aside her concerns and fully surrender to you, embracing this ephemeral moment where you belonged to one another.

“I made a…a…strap.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “You made one? You did not...”

“I did though. I made it so I can feel you like it was my own, I’ll be able to feel you wrapped around me.”

Her words ignited a warmth within you, causing your heart and pussy to pound in unison, your body aching to feel her. In that moment, she became your genius, playing with fire as she brought her invention into the picture. With a gentle touch, you caressed her face and she relished in the lingering embrace between you both.

“My poor princess, I’ve corrupted you…haven’t I?”

Her face wore a smile that was impossible for her to suppress, ridding herself of her clothes while securing her strap around her waist. She gracefully leaped onto the bed, resting her back against the headboard and the sight of her made your already dampened folds even more so, adding to the throb that coursed between your thighs. Her dark skin was flawless, her breasts impeccably placed on her chest, and it was no secret that she had put a meticulous effort into the details of her strap as it was visually apparent.

“Take off your clothes y/n…please. I wanna see you.”

You obliged, removing yourself from your pajama set but keeping your undergarments on. You made your way towards her, wrapping your hand around her dick as you began to pump slowly and sensually causing her to breathe in sharply at the sudden contact. Your unwavering gaze penetrated deep into her soul, forcing a fragile moan to fall from her vulnerable lips.

“How many times a day do you think about me Shuri?,” you ask, your voice seeping in lust as you proceed to stroke her. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “Don’t be shy…tell me.”

“A…a lot.”

“Mhmmm…and what are we doing when you think about me?”

It was obvious she was trying to hold back, fighting inevitable moans that fought to escape the depths of her throat yet this only fueled you to pump her harder.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you baby.”

“Mmm, unh…we…we’re naked.”

“Don’t be shy, tell me what we’re doing.”

A soft whimper escapes her lips as your strokes push through her, revealing her struggle to maintain composure and hold herself together.

“I’m fucking you…with my dick.” Those were the most provocative words that have ever escaped her lip, a captivating melody to your ears that compelled you to keep going.

“There you go, my dirty fucking girl…was that so hard?”

She shakes her head back and forth as she finally lets her guard down, softly moaning at the throbbing sensation that coursed through her strap, pushing it back into her clit. You slowly caress her dick downwards, until your hand is wrapped at the base of her, leaving room for you to pull the rest of her into your mouth. You graze her tip with your tongue, circling around her and her breathing quickens. You waste no time pulling her all the way in, sucking on her while your hand works the base of her.

“Y/n…unh.”

Her moans began to escalate beyond her inability to swallow them down. This is exactly how you wanted her; helpless, wiggling under your control as you worked her through it. You push your mouth down on her, choking as your throat closes in around her girth. You felt everything, every twitch and every throb grazed the inside of your mouth only pushing you to keep going. Drool poured out of your mouth as her size blocked your airways, gagging and choking sounds coming from your throat as you sucked her like you hate her.

“Shit y/n…ah…bast.”

In that moment, she disregarded any concern for the intensity of her actions and the assault she had on your throat, fully immersed in the experience without regard for the impact it had on you. Your wet strokes and pumps sent her over the edge, a rhythmic wave-like sensation surged through her dick reaching towards her tender tip. She grabbed your curls, gently guiding your head to reach further, causing you to immediately gag as her tip hit the back of your throat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she manages to say between her breathy moans, but you kept going with no intention to stop until she spilled into your mouth. She created its size with true intention, wanting to feel you wholly and fully as she spread you open. She loved the way you looked, the way your mouth was so full of her and how your mascara poured down your cheeks as you maneuvered between sucking and choking below her.

“I’m…y/n I’m so close. Please don’t stop…please. Mmmm, ah.”

“Cum for me baby, spill into my mouth.”

Immediately, Shuri’s moans pierce your ears, an erotic scream filling the air as her thick cum poured into the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop of her, licking her tip dry as she wailed in pleasure.

“Shit y/n…oh my…ah-ohmygod!”

Your tongue swirls around her tip a few moments longer, and even though the sensation was overwhelming her, she allowed you to proceed. She let out a whimper, teetering on the edge of tears due to the slight overstimulation, yet the mere sight of you provided the strength to push through it. You bring your face up to meet hers, immediately pushing your tongue into her mouth as she tastes herself.

“You taste delicious,” you hummed. “What else do you wanna do with this?,” you ask, proceeding to stroke her with your hands. She doesn’t answer, instead shaking her head left and right frantically, her tip becoming so swollen with the way you continue to caress her.

“I…I can’t.”

“Ssshhh, yes you can princess, you can. You’re ok. Just tell me what you want.”

“Unh.”

“I can’t give you what you want if you don’t use your words, baby.”

She bit her bottom lip, holding back a quaking moan that sat on the edge of her tongue, overwhelmed with your words as your hand remained around her, squeezing just enough to soothe and intensify all at once.

“Y-y/n…I..unh…”

You grabbed her throat, pressing firmly into her windpipe that caused her to gasp and you smiled. You couldn't help but feel a deep admiration for the delicate and vulnerable appearance she presented in front of you, surrendering herself entirely to your control.

“Quit all that whimpering Shuri, talk to me. I wanna hear you say it.”

“I w-want you to f-fuck me. Please, y-y/n,” she struggled to respond between her trembling and your hand firmly wrapped around her throat.

“That’s a good girl…my pretty fucking princess.”

You let go of her throat, causing her to cough and you smirked at the sight. You took off your undergarments, leaving you entirely naked and open for Shuri’s gaze. You leaned back, opening your legs for her display and she practically salivated over the sheen dew that glazed your dark folds, paving way to the fleshy color that hid underneath. She attempted to crawl towards you, eager to rub you with her tip but you closed your legs instantly, pressing her back into the headboard behind her. You take your bra, tying her wrists together and she did nothing but let you, because she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you. She did not want you to stop.

“Give me a safe word, Shuri.”

“What?”

“A safeword…come up with one.”

“Tulips.”

“What?”

“T-tulips.”

You chuckled, absolutely drawn into her. You kissed her once more, and she moaned into your mouth.

“You got me fucked up, you know that?”

She nods vigorously.

“Now listen to me baby, I’m not gonna stop fucking you until I hear the word ‘tulips.” If you say ‘stop’, I’m not gonna stop. Do you hear me?”

She nods again and it’s not enough for you. You retaliate by snaking her throat once more, applying a firm pressure into her windpipe.

“Use your words. I wanna hear you, make sure you fully understand what I’m saying.”

“You’re not gonna s-stop fu-fucking me until I say ‘tulips’.”

“Perfect.”

You sling her constricted arms around your neck, her wrists still tied together with your bra as you gently place your pussy on top of her strap, swallowing her whole and you both moaned in unison. Her dick stretched you in ways you had never been before, in ways Amari had never done to you, initially creating a slight burn inside you but the more you bounced, the more your pussy became accustomed to her size. With each movement, you ascended and descended, leaving Shuri in awe as her jaw dropped, overwhelmed by the feel of your tight squeeze.

“Y/n…oh my…fuck.”

“That’s it, my love. Keep doing that. Just….fuck…unh, just let it out for me. Give it all to me.”

Both of you felt each other immensely; you felt her massage your throbbing walls, her tip pressing into your g-spot repeatedly while Shuri whimpered at your clench. Your movements were filthy, deliberate; pressing harder onto her dick with your needy grip. The sight of Shuri before you, completely vulnerable to your movements, was a sight you could cum from alone. Her mouth was open, moaning in her utmost pleasure as she watched the way your breasts bounced with your obscene tempo.

“Y/n…AH…I’m so close. You feel so good. W-wanna fill you up. Fill you u-up so f-fucking bad. Shit.”

She lost her mind the more you squeezed her, her mouth running obscenities in ways it never would if her body were not feeling this abundance of pleasure. She rolls her head back, her eyes following but you grab her chin, forcing her eyes on you.

“Look at me while you’re all fucked up, baby.”

She’s always had trouble with eye contact.

“UNH…y/n! AH.”

“What does it feel like, Shuri? Tell me how my pussy makes you fucking feel…shit.”

“I can-can’t. I can’t!”

“Yes you can…fuck. Yes you can.”

“Mmm.”

Once again, you grab her throat, wrapping both hands around her as you proceed to ride her. Her eyes bulge open, coming back to meet yours without hesitation as she attempts to breathe under your tight grasp. She so desperately wants to clasp your wrists or forearms for support, but her cuffed wrists will not allow it.

“Nod if you’re ok,” you demand for reassurance. She nods.

“Now tell me how I make you feel, Shuri.”

“You make me feel so good, y/n. You make my dick feel so fucking good, ah! I think I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Hold it.”

“I…I can’t, y/n, please.”

“Yes you can…and you will. Now open your mouth nice and wide for me.”

She obliged, her mouth wide open while her tongue sticks out, coated in her saliva, a perfect node for you to stick two of your own fingers down her throat and that’s exactly what you do. Shuri gags, a guttural sound as her throat bobs and it turns you on immensely. You do it again. And again. And she’s crying, tears spilling down her cheeks as your fingers plunge into her throat.

“You’re so beautiful, Shuri,” you moan, sucking harshly on her throat.

“Are y-you…close?”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Shit…ah. This isn’t about m-me. Focus on you.”

“I’m gonna cum, y/n.”

“I know my love, I know. Go ahead….f-fucking spill for me.”

Shuri let loose a resounding scream, originating deep within her core and erupting from her mouth. Her moans carried a profound weight, echoing with sheer ecstasy, as you absorbed her throbbing dick that grazed your g-spot, her warm cum pouring inside you. It should have served as a warning, a signal to cease the merciless pumps, yet you persisted. Your pussy continued to caress her through it, fucking her until her sight became nothing but a black night. Tears cascaded down her cheeks, delicately clinging to her beautiful lashes at the way your pussy overwhelmed her.

“Bast…Y/n…pl-please. St-stop. UNH.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Mhmm.”

“Then look me in the eyes and tell me to stop.”

Her eyes come back to face you, her lenses stained with her tears that refuse to cease and she says nothing. Sobs rip from her mouth, a second orgasm approaching before she can even climb down from her first one.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Shuri’s heart rate escalates beyond control, her chest tightening as the room around her becomes a blur. She’s panting, moaning as she’s taking it all in. An immense build up of pressure builds up in her dick once more, and she cum’s for the second time.

“Y/N.”

You don’t stop. The third time.

“Fuck! ANH!”

Fourth.

“STOP!”

“Stop?”

“Mhmmm.”

“No.”

You readjust yourself so your back is facing her, giving her the most perfect view of the way your cunt swallows her whole. You’re both so wet, so stained with cum as you proceed your brutal movements. Her hands that were at the back of your neck, are now at the front as she brings one to wrap around your throat for leverage. At this point, you had given up holding your composure of wanting to hold back how she felt inside you because she was heavenly and the more orgasms she had, the more swollen she became, filling you up more and more as her tip repeatedly hit that sensitive patch inside you.

“Fuck Shuri…just right there…r-ight fucking there, baby.”

“Y/n…”

“Mmmm. You’re such a good girl, Shuri. Cum again. Fill me up.”

“Y/N! UNH!”

“SHURI!”

You made no attempt to hide your orgasm this time, allowing yourself to be completely unraveled by her and the way she felt inside you. The blood coursed through your walls, causing you to expand and compress as you moaned through your pleasure. You placed your hand on top of Shuri’s hand, the one that gently compressed your windpipe and you pressed down, wanting her to squeeze harder.

“Choke me, baby. Choke me while I’m cumming for you. Please.”

She swallowed down a sob, but managed to perform the act. Shuri pressed firmly into your throat, forcing drool to pour out of your mouth as she choked you through your orgasm.

“Y-YES. AH!”

“I’m cumming again y/n, I’m cumming!”

Her grip on your throat increased as she suffered through her orgasm, unaware of how much she was restricting your oxygen intake but you were ok with that. As her hold on you is released, you come back around to face her, beginning to ride again in a tempo that shows how tired you truly were.

“S-stop…please.”

“Hmmm…?”

For a moment the room went silent, with nothing but the resounding sloshing of your bodies becoming one down below. She looked so ruined, so completely overtaken by you and your body and she was beautiful. Her eyes were so full of suffering yet so gentle as she took in her last view of the picture you created on top of her. You too were fucked out, mascara ruined and curls no longer as perfectly coiled as they once were but she reveled in the sight of you before she said it:

“T-tulips.”

You exhale. You sat on top of her, holding her as her strap remained inside you and you remained that way until your breathing patterns became somewhat normal. You hopped off slowly and the caress made her flinch.

“You are incredible, Shuri.”

As you release her bound wrists, she flinches at the slight pain. Faint indentations mark her skin where the tight material had pressed into it, and you tenderly plant affectionate kisses on those marks, filled with care and affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say, proceeding to kiss her wrists.

“Kiss me,” she begs. “I need you.”

She appeared so desperate, overwhelmingly craving your presence in that moment, and you couldn't help but discreetly roll your eyes and let out a soft chuckle. Not because Shuri's plea bothered you, but because you had come to a realization that you needed her just as deeply.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up to the embrace of unparalleled warmth, experiencing a level of comfort that had been absent from your life for some time. Shuri's tousled curls peek out from beneath the blanket as she lies beside you, her smell now sinking into its fabric. But that feeling was interrupted when you glanced at your phone and see numerous missed calls from Amari and you groaned in frustration as you pulled the blanket back over your head.

“Why is it you keep spending time with her if she makes you feel this way?,” Shuri asked, her voice startling you at first. She turned over to face you, both of you underneath your blanket.

“It’s none of your business, Shuri.”

For a moment, Shuri remained silent, a silence that became unsettling until she finally found her voice and spoke up for the first time.

“Last night you made me tell you what was bothering me, so now it’s your turn. Talk to me, y/n.”

“Uh huh…anyways.”

“Y/n.”

“What?”

“Can I tell you what I think?”

A genuine question, one that you know she’d most likely answer absolutely correctly and the thought bothered you, but you let her proceed anyway.

“Go ahead, Shuri. What will your brilliant mind conjure up this time?,” you say with an attitude causing Shuri to slightly giggle.

“I think you keep Amari around because…she makes you feel wanted just enough to make you stay. I think you’re a little broken, and it’s not your fault, because people keep hurting you. I think…I think you love deeply and passionately but you suppress that part of yourself because no one has ever made you feel the same, and so you dim your light in order to keep yourself from getting hurt again when in reality, all you want is to be loved the way you love.”

You felt a need to sob, to break down in front of her. You wouldn’t allow it, not yet anyway. You pulled yourself from underneath the blanket, and she did the same. She rests her back against your headboard and you straddle her, pulling her in for a kiss.

“And how did you figure all that out,” you say, allowing a feeble tear to escape your eye but you quickly wiped it away.

“I did really well in psychology.”

Her answer made you both laugh, a sound that made you desire her that much more.

“Of course you did, pretty girl…of course you did.”

“You know…you’re the first person to ever call me pretty. No one’s ever told me I was beautiful before.”

“What?? No way.” Your surprise was authentic, for while Shuri may not have been regarded as the epitome of coolness, she was undeniably one of the most breathtaking individuals you had ever encountered. Her visage possessed a divine quality, sculpted for the gods. Her curls sat perfectly on the top of her head, tumbling like a cascading waterfall upon her brow. Her lips were irresistible, difficult to pull away from, yet it was her eyes that captivated you the most. Deep and mysterious, almost concealed by her the frames that surrounded them, yet they always revealed a yearning that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You pull her in for a kiss once more, her lips leaving yours as she begins placing firm pecks into your neck. You grasp her curls, sulking in the way your body heated up at her touch.

“Can I taste you again? Please…”

“Damn…what’d I do to you?”

Shuri chuckles. “You’re so pretty y/n, literally the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

You feel a tear escape your duct once more and you do nothing to stop it.

“You have the most beautiful body, I love your stretch marks and your dimples on your back. And I love your rolls and your thick thighs, and I love how you’re unashamed to show them off. And this face…such a beautiful face.”

“Shuri…”

“And even though you’re mean, I kind of like that too. Because you’re a challenge…and I’m good at those.”

Her words flowed effortlessly, flawlessly woven together. It was a stark contrast to the hesitant, stuttering Shuri you had come to know. This version of Shuri standing before you had no trouble articulating her thoughts, stumbling over no obstacles. She exuded confidence in her desires, and her desire was directed solely at you. She nuzzled her face into the curve of your neck once more, sucking on the skin as she rendered you powerless. No one had ever made you feel this way, making love seem like a genuine and attainable possibility.

“Are you still gonna see Amari? Because I don’t want to have to compete for you…b-but I will if I have to because I want you.”

You remained silent for a moment as tears began shamelessly pooling out of your eyes as you grasp into her, holding her tightly as if it was your last time. A soft sob fell off your lips, pushing your face deeper into the nape of her neck. She smelt so good, a welcoming aroma that began to fog all your senses. Amari was no match for Shuri, there was never a moment you spent with her that made you feel as you’re feeling now with the woman before you at this very moment. Amari was one that only wanted you at her convenience, when you benefitted her, but Shuri…

“I want you, y/n…all the time and all to myself.”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, Shuri.”

You pull out your phone and block her immediately, your first sign to Shuri that she would have your full attention.

“Wow…look at you go,” she replies in a sarcastic tone.

“Oh, so you got jokes?”

“I’m actually really funny…you have yet to see that side of me.”

Vulnerability. Not your strongest suit, nor was it the easiest. But you wore it well. To Shuri, you looked beautiful, a testament to yourself that your heart was still as big and radiant as it once was, even after the numerous hurt you’ve endured that seemed to weather you down. And Shuri loved you, wanted to show you what it meant to feel as such, and for the first time in a long time, your shield of protection had been set aside as you allowed your tears to flow freely in expression of how much you absolutely loved her. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Prompts used by @pocketsizedpanther were:

Using Shuri’s throat as leverage while reader rides her

Tying her down and overstimulating her

[overfedvenison]

A sorta clickbaity article came out saying that the Avatar live action remake is going to be toning down Sokka's sexism.

I won't comment on that because it feels kinda like it may be a quote taken out of context, but it does feel like a pattern in live action remakes that like...

These are remakes made for adults. But they are not remakes made for mature people.

These remakes are, at every turn, less capable of handling the mature subject matter involved in their source material, which is usually a children's cartoon. And it's really because what these are aiming for is a psuedo-fan of the original work who sort-of remembers it but thinks themselves too mature for cartoons - that is, an audience who wants the illusion of maturity, who scoff at cartoons, but who are not actually into media and analysis enough to actually handle mature themes.

You know?

Thus. It is totally fine for the original Lion King to have overtly fascist imagery to code Scar as the villain. Hell - between his british accent, cultured affectations, facial scar, and tendency to go around making speeches about the new era, the intent might have been for him to just be a fascist Lion. And, in the recent sequel series Lion Guard, Zira can evoke this exact theme - the show has an entire Racism Arc about the main character learning about hyenas and accepting them, and Zira representing the opposite of that. Further, Main Character Kion can go to war, he can deal with stress, he can get scars, and explore some really deep and serious stuff. This, in a show aimed at an even younger audience than the original.

Yet the Lion King Remake? The emotions are turned down. Scar almost had Be Prepared cut out. The wilder imagery was deemed too silly for the audience. Timon and Pumbaa spell out that their philosophy is bad instead of implying that it's something kinda good for them but bad for Simba. Characters were altered to conform to more mainstream and current trends and tastes. It can pretend to be live action, it can present an illusion of maturity - but while it does so, the movie will file away edges and fills the itself with these generically-affirming themes because it is aimed at the sort of adults who will become offended if media presents ideas that will make them uncomfortable or make them feel childish.

I think it boils down to like... Children do not get offended at media. It's adults who cannot handle cartoons who get offended at media.

And so these remakes, for however mature they pretend to be, are simply less capable of tackling the subject matter of the originals