summary: a question looms in the air: will you and shuri make it to your dinner reservation on time, if at all?
word count: 4373
contains: smut (18+), thigh riding, strap!shuri, multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, overstimulation, slight praise!kink, fluff at the end because romance is real!
note: lmaoooo, all i can do is laugh, truly. i wrote this whilst high, so i hope it's coherent? idk. i'm so in love with shuri y'all like this is crazy pants! shouts out to my mutual for translation help! enjoy <33
translations: sthandwa - my love, mtuwam - my person, bambo'lwami - my other half
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part two | part one
“How much longer until you're ready, sthandwa? I can only sit still for so long.” Shuri groaned from her seat in front of your vanity.
You stuck your head out from your closet as you put in your second earring, “I only need a little while longer.”
“Might want to pick up the pace!” She was annoyed, understandably. You’d given her that exact same response seven times already. She was patient at first, but it was wearing thin now.
Shuri showed up an hour earlier than your agreed upon time, no doubt for this exact reason. She was aware of how long it took you to get ready. This being your first date since getting back together, officially, did not help.
Your nerves were bouncing around like children hopped up on too much sugar. It reminded you of your jitters when you first asked her out. She’d made you wait an entire week before making up her mind, only to admit her answer was never not going to be yes.
Your girlfriend and her games. Your girlfriend. It felt amazing being able to call her that again. Three weeks apart dragged on like three years. It made you realize Shuri was a part of you, her presence sewed into your body and mind. A presence you refused to live without.
The conversation the two of you had about your future unraveled many emotions and thoughts that went unsaid for weeks. You finally opened up to each other about the pain and the loss being felt on both sides in a healthy way. It was hard, and raw, and it was real. It was the most honest conversation either of you had ever had. Having someone who accepts you at your most vulnerable was a rarity, but the ancestors sent you Shuri. And for that, you were most grateful.
The dust had settled, and that chapter of your lives was now closed, tied up with a happy ending thankfully. Tonight was a night of celebration. Shuri decided a romantic dinner at one of the most elite restaurants in the city was a good way to do that.
“Nothing that takes too long, please.” She’d said, insisting on needing to have you home and undressed beneath her as soon as humanly possible. You could not lie, you were just as impatient as her, maybe a bit more. She had refrained from touching you since that night in the club, and instructed you to refrain from touching yourself. It was pure torment, but torment you knew would be worth it.
Something that subsided your neediness was knowing she longed for your touch just as you did hers. Her little whimpers every time you brushed up against her in any way was evidence enough. Shuri did not know you were privy to this information, and you were going to have your fun with that.
You stepped away from the mirror inside your closet and stood under the threshold. “How do I look?” Her lip bite at the sight of you was immediate, and you smiled. She took in the way your velvet dress embraced your hips and curves. Your earrings dangled aimlessly as you posed for her, right arm extended above your wild curls. The heels you chose were the most uncomfortable pair you owned, but they were also the most elegant, and they matched your dress.
“You look…” The twinkle of awe in her eye was answer enough. You strutted towards her and not once did Shuri rip her gaze away from you. Knowing that your girlfriend was completely and utterly enamored with your very existence was a powerful feeling. It was a feeling you reveled in.
“Thank you, mtuwam, but I still believe my outfit is missing something.”
She slanted her head as if to disagree, “What could it possibly be missing?”
“My necklace.” Your pout was mighty, and so was her smile, but she said nary a word.
You stood in front of her and her eyes fixed on your chest, eyeing your cleavage without a drop of shame. Part of the reason you chose the dress you were in, was to garner that reaction out of her. You bent over a tad, pushing your boobs in her face just enough to keep her in her trance.
“I need this seat.” Your whisper was sweet and seductive. You were unsure if she heard you because she had yet to move a muscle. Shuri’s mouth hung agape as she salivated before you.
She shook her head then, blinking at you, “Pardon?”
“The seat. I need it.” You gestured to the chair in front of your vanity she’d been perched on while you got dressed with a small smirk.
Shuri cleared her throat, “Why? Are you not ready to go? You look ready to me.”
“I am ready. I just need to put my hair up, and then we may leave.”
Her eyes flickered to your chest again before she spoke, “If that is all you need to do then have a seat right here and do it.” She patted her thigh and smiled up at you. You gave her an eyeroll, but followed her instruction nonetheless. Her satisfied little grin was worth it you supposed.
You placed yourself in her lap and began grabbing fist fulls of your fro, humming along to the music playing softly in the background. Pretending not to notice the way Shuri gawked at you in the mirror was amusing, it seems you were incorrect about being more impatient than she was.
As you did your hair, you found your body moving to the song that played, grinding into Shuri’s thigh. The small amount of friction it brought you was thrilling. She did not seem to notice what you were doing. Good. Every few minutes, you would adjust yourself on her lap, swallowing the moan threatening to escape you.
It was risky, but Shuri busying herself with her Kimoyo beads left the opportunity wide open. You moved up and down as carefully as possible, trying to concentrate on your hair. Soft shallow breaths were all that you allowed yourself, but oh did you need more. The sensation, your clit on her clothed thigh, left your chest heavy.
You let your eyes flutter shut, allowing yourself to get caught. “You're not as sneaky as you believe yourself to be, you know.”
Her voice startled you and all your attempts to feign innocence were rendered useless. Lips pressed against your ear sent shivers down your spine. You exhaled a long, lengthy breath and shut your eyes tight.
“Okay. I’m ready to go now.” Attempting to hide the shake in your voice was difficult, and Shuri was buying none of what you were selling. You tried standing up, but she held you in place.
Her huff of laughter was one you knew well; she was scheming. “You may be ready to go, but I'm not. You made a mess on my pants.” She gestured to her leg, and sure enough, there was a small wet spot staring right back at you. Curling into yourself was an option, and the thought gnawed at your brain the longer time went on. This could not bode well for you.
“Now you must finish what you started.” Your eyes met hers in the mirror, and there were remnants of a smirk there.
“What?”
“I know you aren't wearing any panties under this little dress, sthandwa.”
Your eyes turned pleading as you watched her reflection. Shuri had warned you about the consequences if she found out you’d been pleasing yourself without her permission. And not only did you go against her, but you did it in her presence. “We're going to miss our reservation if we don't hurry.”
You stood, and she pulled you back down. “We aren't going anywhere until you finish what you started, my darling.” You knew that tone of voice well too, there was no arguing with her now.
You begged once more, but to no avail. Slowly, slowly, slowly, you opened your thighs. There was a small squish, and you began to rub your sensitive bud on the previous spot.
“I know you want to go faster, go ahead.” You picked up the pace and your breathing did the same. Small whines climbed up your throat as you rode Shuri’s thigh. It felt good; better than good, perfect. You were growing wetter with each hump, and her eyes did not move from the image of you in the mirror.
Your clit twitched at the contact, growing more and more sensitive. Shuri watched your breast jump with your movements, eyes glazed over, lust darkening their hue. Her lips were on your neck then, kissing right below your ear. Back pressed against her front, you threw your head back as you slid your pussy up and down her thigh.
Small, wet sounds were becoming audible as you approached your climax. Your pussy was dripping all over her pants. She did not seem to care, and neither did you. Your pace was a force to be reckoned with as you moaned, loud and booming. Shuri’s mouth and tongue were all over your throat, but not once did her hands move from your hips as she steadied you. With a small bounce of her thigh, she added to the sinister sensation.
You kept grinding into her, breathing heavily as you built yourself up. “That's it. I love that look on you.” Her words sent you almost immediately. And there it was, that feeling you were missing; that feeling Shuri denied you on the dancefloor. Your first orgasm in months. It filtered through you, filling your bones and muscles, and your entire nervous system. Your toes curled in your shoes and your riding rhythm faltered.
You cried out as it washed through you in the way waves do, groaned until you rode it out. A feeling you wish you could bottle. Orgasmic; the perfect name for the most perfect feeling.
Sleepiness overtook you, but you knew you weren't getting off that easy. “That was amazing, but I’m afraid my pants are ruined now.”
Shuri removed her hand from your hip, sliding ringed fingers through your damp, swollen folds. You hissed at the feeling, needing a minute to wind down. But you could not stop her, your body limp against hers.
“You're drenched.” She rubbed gentle circles on your used clit and you attempted to wiggle out of her touch. It only caused her to chuckle. Shuri dipped one of her fingers into your leaking hole, thrusting it in and out a few times before bringing it to her lips.
She hummed when your cum hit her tongue, “Oh I've missed this taste.”
“We're going to be late for dinner.” It was all you could manage, but you knew your words meant nothing.
Your eyelids hung low as you watched Shuri in the mirror. Her face let you know the only thing on the menu tonight was you, and Shuri was raised to believe you must always finish your food. “I want you out of this ridiculously short dress, and on the bed.”
Lazily, you practically crawled to your bed, the lastings of your orgasm still weighing you down. Your attempts to unzip your dress failed, so you turned to Shuri, “Help?”
Her smile pulled you in as she stood and came towards you. Your eyes traveled to her pant leg and the mess you made, and there was a warm fuzzy feeling within. She eased up behind you, running fingers up your arms and down your back before slowly sliding your zipper down. She kissed your shoulder, then your neck and you sighed into it.
Shuri guided your dress straps from your body, tugging gently at the fabric. She couldn't even wait for you to be completely out of it. As soon as your breasts were exposed, she cupped large handfuls of them and your eyes rolled back when she pinched your nipples.
“Does that feel good my dear?” She rolled your buds between her fingers, shooting pleasure right down to your achy sex. Wetness rolled down both of your legs, pulling you closer to yet another release. “I need to hear you say it, sthandwa. Tell me how it feels.”
She pinched harder and you yelped, “It feels so good.”
“Good. On the bed for me.” You stepped out of your dress completely and did as she instructed, climbing onto your comfy mattress and settling in. Shuri undressed herself at the foot of the bed, ripping off her suit piece by piece until she was left only in her unbuttoned dress shirt. The sight of her like that was overwhelming; prowling and hungry, and it just might be your favorite look on her.
Grabbing your ankles, Shuri pulled you closer to the edge and you giggled shyly. “Tell me, how long has it been since you last felt my lips on that pretty cunt of yours?”
“Too long.” You huffed and she nodded. Desperation lodged inside your bones at the thought of her going down on you.
She opened your legs and you shivered. “Do you miss it?”
“Terribly.” Your response was a whisper that she swallowed. She leaned forward to kiss you hastily, sucking on your tongue. Pulling away, her lips began to wander your lower body and you whined. Tattooed fingers hovered over your most delicate as she pulled your right nipple into her mouth. When her digits sunk into you, a cry sprung free and your head flew backwards in pure delight.
Feeling her spread her fingers inside of you as she lapped your nipple, swirling her tongue around it with every suck, drove you crazy. Her fingers worked you with skillful precision, causing you to squirm and tangle in your sheets. Teeth grazed your abdomen, descending down, down, down. She stopped where she fucked you before looking up, catching your eyes.
“Look at me while I devour you, let me see those eyes.” And you did. You drank in her dazed sunburnt irises as she wrapped her soft mouth around your swollen clit. Shuri’s slurps and sucks rang in your ears and your screams rang in hers, mingling in the air. She continued the thrusting of her fingers, sloshing around in your wetness and your cum from your first orgasm, just as you approached your second.
Brown eyes fixed on brown eyes all the while. Not once did she break her stare, and you did not dare break yours. Her tongue replaced her fingers and your hips lurched upward in pleasure. In and out, in and out. She lapped you up, making your head spin like a top.
Shuri pushed your hips back into the mattress and you squirmed, “Stay still.” It was a command you needed not to challenge. The pressure she put on your hips was sure to leave bruises in the morning, and the thought only turned you on more. You loved when she marked you as hers alone.
Your hands traveled to her head, tangling in her curls as you cupped it. Hearing her moan from the act of eating your pussy like a starved animal was single handedly going to do you in.
“Stick out your tongue.” You managed in between heavy breathing.
When she obliged, you created your own rhythm, rubbing your nub back and forth against her. Her hums of enjoyment pushed you to continue, only amplifying your sensation. Hips stuttered and vision blurred, your second orgasm swimming through you within seconds. “That's it dear, make a mess all over my face.”
“Yes, my Queen.” You breathed out strings of curses, humping Shuri’s face to drag your pleasure out. Sensational. And you only wanted more. You pulled her up to kiss you, and to cheekily get a taste of you on her. Grinning into the kiss, she sent her hand down to your hole again, pumping you softly. The kiss was heated and swoon worthy, your juices covering both of your lips.
When you flipped her, positioning her under you, it surprised her. A lone smirk formed on your lips and she matched it. “Your turn, my Queen.”
Warm tender kisses peppered her jaw, lips sucking anxiously. Your tongue trailed from her neck tattoo, down her throat, to peck the space between her breasts. It was slow and drawn out, and Shuri’s restlessness roared awake. It was what you planned for. You kissed her abs sweetly, then traveled back up her chest. Her groans of annoyance only egged you on. Reaching for her hand, you wrapped your fingers around her wrist, guiding it to her own soaking sex.
“Show me how you want it, mtuwam.” Shuri’s fingers, still coated in your slick, pushed through her wet folds. Slithering down the length of her body, you settled in between her damp thighs and watched her play with herself. Her movements were swift and jittery; a little too eager for your liking. “Slow down love.”
Extending your hand to her nipple seemed like the best way to intensify her pleasure, so it was what you did. Her groans were so pitiful; music to your ears. You clamped down with great strength and she screeched.
She tried slipping a finger inside herself, and you intervened then, replacing her digits with your own.
Revving Shuri up for a release was your only goal as your thumb massaged her throbbing clit. Sweet, sweet release, it was what she deserved for being so damn perfect. You lowered your mouth to her pussy, diving head first into her ocean. Instinctively, your tongue drove into her tight warmth, and she sobbed above you. Your own moans surged through her as you fucked and sucked.
Shuri’s body thrashed on the bed and her toes curled. She was close, and you had the power to take her all the way there. Having the Queen of Wakanda fiending for your tongue and fingers deep inside her was the ultimate power move. Royalty bowed to no one, usually, but her Royal Highness bowed to you.
“Is her Majesty going to come for me?” You looked up at her and the view was heavenly. She nodded, tweaking her nipples. Shuri’s back shot off the bed at the feeling of three fingers entering her. “There you go baby.”
When she came there was a few seconds of silence, followed by a slew of blasphemous lines. Eyes stamped shut and legs twitching uncontrollably. Grunts flew this way and that. You pumped her still, needing to feel her clench around you for a little while longer. You pulled your digits out of her soon after, and pushed them through her lips. “Open.”
“You taste fantastic. Won’t you agree?” She nodded with a cum glazed smile, catching her breath.
You climbed up to lay beside her, propping yourself up on your elbow. Admiring her beauty was your favorite thing to do. Flawlessness existed in the form of your girlfriend.
Her voice was groggy when she spoke, “I hope you know we are not finished.”
“I do know.” Your squeal was high pitched and it made Shuri giggle. Her shirt hung off her shoulder as she bent over for her bag. She returned with a box you knew well; too well.
A beckoning finger pulled you to the edge of the bed. It took only seconds for her to pop it open and you flinched, eyes widening.
“New?”
She nodded, “Brand new, for you.” She removed the toy from its resting place and you examined it. Bigger than the last one; sleeker, thicker. It both enthralled and alarmed you, a combination you enjoyed. Shuri placed the strap just above her crotch, and the harness materialized as her panther suit does. You bit your lip in excitement.
“Hands and knees.” You did as she said, arching your back in the process. She ran her fingers down the crook of your spine and you relaxed. Towering behind you like a shadow — Shuri positioned herself for intrusion.
Leisurely, she grabbed your hips, slipping into you. Her first thrust was measured and calculated, making sure you could take it. The stretch burned wonderfully, as you pushed back on her, signaling her to move. “You don't have to be gentle with me.”
“It was never my plan to be gentle.” Her last words before pulling out and plunging back into your cunt. You plummeted into your pillows with your screams as Shuri plowed you. Long deep strokes, bringing forth grunts from her. You knew she felt the pleasure rush too, through her design.
Squelching, and sounds of skin slapping skin bounced off the walls with the way Shuri ravaged you. Biting down on your pillow was the only way to keep yourself from crying your throat raw. She pulled out, slapping it against your puffy pussy, then dove back in. “Take it, all of it. I love the sounds you make for me.”
Fucking you was Shuri’s favorite thing to do. Nothing else apart from her work entranced her this much. And you loved performing for her, loved putting yourself on display with your moans and wails. You looked back at her working you, catching her watching herself move in and out of your tight pussy. Bottom lip between her teeth as she smirked.
The toy disappeared and reemerged meticulously, coaxing your orgasm out. Superpowered thrusts shook your bed, and the very walls of your room.
Your knees began their inevitable buckling; legs shook, and shuri knew you were close again, “Not yet. Want you to ride me.”
She slithered out your weary hole and you collapsed, crossing your thighs tight.
“Spread those legs, need you on top.” She laid on her back, holding the base of the sopping strap and waited for you to mount her.
Sinking down onto it opened you wider than you thought possible, and you basked in it, as tired as you were. “You’ve got this baby, I know you do.”
Her words of encouragement helped you persist until the shaft was all the way inside you.
Shuri grinned with pride, “Perfect.”
You lifted yourself up and sunk back down, creating a steady pace as you placed your hands on her chest. She guided your hips, fucking up into you all the while. Slamming yourself down on her over, and over, and over made your bed creak. You rode her with greed — starvation unabashed as you moaned like a mad man.
She soaked up the vibrations your bouncing created, and her own desperate whimpers rose in volume. The tip brushed over that special spot inside you again and again, yanking your orgasm front and center. Senses heightened as your tower of pleasure grew tall. Up, up, up. The sky was the limit.
Shuri nodded up at your fucked out features, knowing you were at your peak. She wove your fingers together, bringing your knuckles to her lips for the ghost of a kiss. Sweat trickled down the both of you as your grunts unified. She was close too. Amazing.
“Come on, make me proud sthandwa.” Her words were lightning, striking right where you needed to knock your tower all the way over. All consuming ecstasy; encompassing euphoria.
One last hump, one last thrust, and you were both coming. “Shuri!”
Her name velveteen as it escaped you.
Moans were all that could be heard as she writhed beneath you. Magnificent, melodious moans. She pulled out and you immediately missed the feeling of being filled. Slumped on top of her, your breathing fell in sync, chests rising and falling as one. She laughed when you rolled beside her in the sheets, nuzzling into her and letting your orgasm whisk you into slumber.
•••
The sweet smell of dewy night air tugged you from your sleep. Curtains danced without a care in the wind as you adjusted your eyes to the darkness. Reaching out for Shuri’s warmth, you were met with only emptiness. That was when you panicked. Shuri had never once left you in bed alone after sex.
You sat up frantically, slipping into her shirt laid beside you. Calling for her, you attempted to climb out of bed. The soreness at your core had another idea, unfortunately.
“Don't worry my darling, I'm here.” Shuri sauntered in then, a tray of food clutched in both hands. You smiled when you saw her, ear to ear. She’d pulled on one of your t-shirts and a pair of boxers.
She climbed on the bed and you clapped your hands excitedly when the smell of hot food hit your nostrils. “Since we missed dinner.”
You giggled, “And whose fault was that, my Queen?”
“Certainly not mine.” She scooped spoonfuls of rice into your mouth and the flavor made you hum.
Something caught your eye in the corner of the tray as you chewed. A beige rectangular box called your name.
“Go on, open it.” You squeaked and reached for it. There sat your necklace, shiny and gold, and perfect as ever. Below it sat a matching engraved bracelet.
You picked it up as Shuri pushed your hair out the way, clasping the chain around your neck.
The ancestors have agreed that you and I are meant to be.
“Shuri I–” You were in hysterics instantly and she smiled. She placed it around your wrist, kissing the back of your hand sweetly.
“I need you to know that… that you are it for me. You've ruined me and I refuse to have it any other way, bambo'lwami. You are everything. And please, never take this off again.” She sniffed and you nodded with teary eyes.
Shuri placed the tray on your bedside table before kissing your lips. She kissed your face, your nose, your neck, your chest. She poked your sides, tickling you and sending you into a babbling fit of laughter.
You cupped her cheeks, pecking her lips again, “To know you is to love you, and I've loved you for as long as I have known you. All my paths lead right back to you.”
Her mouth pressed to your forehead and you leaned into it, wanting to soak her all up.
summary: shuri takes care of you in the ways she knows how; truths and feelings surface.
word count: 5.9k
contains: mild sexual behavior & suggestive stuff (18+), fluff, aftercare, body worship, vulnerable!reader, slight cocky!shuri, jealous!shuri, vulnerable!shuri, possessive!shuri, riri knows how to mind her business, love confessions, lesbians lesbianing (they're kinda just made for each other tbh), shuri's pockets are very deep, shuri being dramatic and sappy and in love, light chocking
note: me writing something that isn't over 10k words??? a collective gasp resounded around the room! anyway, this is the aftercare/morning after scene for "lies bout how i hate you." this just something real cute and fun for the girls until me and the outline for part two stop fighting. if y'all was to see how she look rn... chile, just a ghetto mess. if this don't hold y'all over until then, idk what to tell you, it's above me! hope you lot enjoy, mwah, mwah!!
↬ lies bout how i hate you
A greedy mouth imprinted your flesh, nipping harshly at your sore neck before parting along it, and you hissed, absorbing the heated air rushing the pretty bruises on your skin. You felt it stretch, dragging into a smirk against your blazing body as you lay there, stiff and weary. This was to be a game, you discerned immediately, one designed with your losing in mind.
The pillowy lips abusing the space below your chin performed with purpose, seeking to remind you of their involvement in the creation of those decorative marks. They encased each blemish, pecking, sucking, licking hungrily at your throat, undoubtedly deepening the bold violet hue existing there already.
Waking you, the goal of the game, but you disregarded this, keeping your eyes tight as you resisted the urge to shuffle ever so slightly in the bed. You could play too, or at the very least, you could attempt.
“I know you're awake, entle.” Seduction lived in her words; in her accent; it coated every breath she expired. Her voice was a hot crackle in the air once it reached your skin, alerting you of your foreseen defeat within seconds of impact.
And thus began your body's habitual response to her sultry call. You felt the sharp edges of Shuri's bare teeth grazing your neck again, her head tucked perfectly inside the crook as she inhaled you, making you twitch in her arms. Her jaw widened ahead of a stinging bite, and you whimpered through the pain, the sound melding with her chuckle. “Open those pretty eyes, I want to see them.”
“Ion wanna be awake. Let me sleep.” It hurt to speak, and the sound of your own voice straining in protest ignited a flare of irritation in your chest, so you kept your eyes closed, wanting to deny her the visual of their sparkle in retaliation.
Shuri laughed again, its vibration racing through you at the mirroring speed of your heartbeat. She drew you in closer, humming in sync with the anticipated groan you expelled. “I have to clean you up baby, you're filthy.”
Your annoyance grew fiercer at the drawl of her sentence, compelling you to finally open your eyes. “Cause yo ass was doing too much.”
“When we fuck,” Shuri removed her curls from their hiding place beneath your chin, smile smug as her still-blown pupils latched onto yours in the dimness surrounding you both. So breathtaking, so beautiful; you couldn't forbid your eyes from softening. “It gets messy. Did you forget that while you were busy with um… What's her name again?”
Naci.
The mere mention of her soared your temperature. Crawling into a hole crossed your mind; you couldn't retreat then, but maybe curling in on yourself now could become an option. You were mortified, recollecting her face and its contortion. Every nook colored in dismay, painted in disappointment, in disgust. But, your aching body couldn't fathom the notion of crawling, and concealing your growing smile proved impossible with Shuri's tired eyes boring into yours as they did now.
She too was sleepy, but she fought it, centering her focus on getting you to comply.
You bit your lip, aware that you were gaping at her pretty face in adoration, but you ceased to care. “You ain't have to do that poor girl like that, Shuri. That was just trifling. Even for you.”
“I would believe your remorse to be genuine if you weren't grinning at me right now. You're beaming, Ntomb'am.” (my girl)
You smacked her, admonishing the arrogance lacing her words. “It is. She's a nice girl.”
“And therein lies her problem.”
“Fuck you.” You tried rolling over in the soiled bedding, but her strength kept you in place. Shuri’s fingers melted into your cupped jaw, delicate as ever. She knew the action would get you; you chased her softer side more so than the one she presented regularly, and it was her favorite thing to manipulate.
She scanned your smiling face, confidence lodged in the deepest parts of her brown globes. Fuck she was good, uttering nothing, yet still possessing the skill to make you squirm beneath her destructive stare; Shuri reduced the little fight you had left in you to ruins, coercing your surrender.
She pinched your cheek, making you scrunch your face. “I don't like repeating myself, so I won't.”
You could pout, resist, but what was the use? Shuri always got her way, and it would be illogical to protest against being pampered just to simply spite her.
She placed a peck on your forehead before releasing you and climbing out of the bed. Shuri made her way to your side, slowly guiding your back off the mattress to help you sit up. “I'm guessing you want to go to your bathroom?”
Your response was a wordless nod, and she scooped you up. Whilst in her arms, you tied those aching thighs of yours snugly around her slender waist on the trot to the bathroom, passing Riri on the couch. She said nothing, neither did you and Shuri, but your heated blush crept up anyway. Because you knew what she was thinking, her telling smirk and amused eyes speaking what her lips refrained.
“Shower.” Shuri sat you on the edge of the sink, tilting her head at your singular word. “I know you wanna put me in the tub, but Ion want that. I need a shower, not a bath.”
She hummed, “Can you even stand right now?”
God could she thin your patience. You narrowed your eyes at her, clearly agitated, but of course, Shuri found hilarity in your mood. She chuckled, the sound low in her bosom as she deviously sank the pads of her digits into your tender, fleshy hips, eyebrow cocked daringly. “Ouch! Ouch! Shuri! What the fuck?!”
“Exactly. You're getting in that tub.”
This time you did pout; you crossed your arms in frustration, and your big doe eyes toyed with her commanding attitude. “You the reason I’m all sore and shit. Just lemme have my shower, it’s the least you could do.”
Her palms rested on either side of the counter as she leaned forward, caging you in, stern eyes searching for something across your upturned face. “That's the fourth time you've used profanity with me in the past ten minutes.”
“Ugh, of course your annoying as– self is counting,” Shuri grinned at your correction, pleased by the way you so easily fell in line for her. You rolled your eyes when you noted her satisfaction. Fuck her, and fuck your perpetual cycle of constantly adhering to her.
She laughed, pecking your lips. “Hmm… I guess I can let you have your shower. But the second I sense being on your feet is becoming too much, I’m running you a bath. Yeva?” (are we clear)
“Okay.” A sheepish smile chiseled into your face, exposing your deep dimples as she kissed you again. Her mouth was plush against yours, coaxing a desperate little whine out from your stomach, and when she pulled away, your lips ran after hers.
“Always so greedy for me, pretty girl.”
Shuri tugged your T-shirt off, careful not to brush the spot where her teeth incised your shoulder, and she smirked. Your skin heated watching Shuri become enraptured with every abrasion she sketched into your flesh; some bolder than others; deeper, but none soon to disappear.
She drank in your nakedness with glossy eyes, bottom lip sucked tight between her canines. “You're so gorgeous with my marks all over your beautiful body.”
You dipped your head, seizing the opportunity to exhale when she stepped away to turn the shower on. “Thanks...”
“Mhmm. Now let me hear you say it.” She lifted you once again, sliding you off the counter and onto your feet before making you face the mirror. It was like your legs forgot what it meant to stand, because you wobbled, and if you were gazing into the glass ahead of you, you'd witness the conceited smile covering Shuri's lips at the sight of your stumble.
“Shuri, you wasting my water, can I just get in the damn–” You avoided the image of your bare skin in the mirror at all costs; there was too much shame existing in your reflection.
But as always, whenever you decided on a course of action, Shuri made sure her’s differed vastly, “Haven't I warned you about your choice of words already?”
“Whatever.”
Shuri snaked your throat, pressing her exposed front into your back, her fingers squeezing and lifting your head so you could behold the remnants of her claim on your body. “Tell me how gorgeous you are.”
She seemed elated by your throaty gasp when you finally took yourself in, the corners of her mouth twitching briefly at your awe. A trail of hickeys and bite marks lined your neck, traveling along your chest, before stopping below your left breast, each one deliberately placed. Their vibrance made them beautiful, reinforcing what you always knew to be true. You were the Panther’s prey — her prize at the end of her hunt — these lacerations were testimony to that.
“So gorgeous. Now can I please have my shower?” Your eyes rolled as you tried wrapping your mind around what the reflection staring back at you would mean, in this moment, in the morning, in the near future. The reality of this thought soured the bliss you almost let yourself taste, dropping your mood entirely.
A power imbalance would forever exist between you and Shuri; it existed now, and it was certainly present when you confessed your true feelings to her. She hadn't reciprocated your declaration, not in the way you'd hoped, not with her words. She wished to say it, this was made evident by her somber eyes holding yours in the mirror. But she would make you wait, she wanted you desperate for those three words, because who would your Panther be if she didn't opt for control over vulnerability?
Shuri’s fingers dove deeper into your throat, compressing your windpipe in her palm as she watched you wince under the pressure and pain, “Say it like you mean it.”
“I'm s-so f-fucking gorgeous.” A choked response, but you smiled anyway, marveling at your naked frame in the reflective surface before shower steam fogged the glass. You did mean it; you believed it.
“Yes, you are.” She kissed your neck after releasing you, allowing you to inhale.
Without a word, she was pulling your hair into a high ponytail, unable to resist pressing another kiss to your nape. She breathed you in with a loud sigh before spinning you to face her. “Now come on.”
Her eyes were practically melted balls of brown peering down at you, the softest she'd permitted them to be in weeks, and you appreciated it wholeheartedly. Electricity thrilled through both of your bodies when she laced your hands together, and she shot you a knowing wink that rocketed your heart’s pumping.
Shuri pulled the misty shower door open, stepping in first to stable you. “Easy, baby.”
Her arms were looped around your waist the second you stood under the streaming water, and Shuri was reeling you in against her chest, supple lips finding your earlobe. “I'm letting you have your shower, why are you still angry with me?”
You sighed. You supposed your uncertainty could be misinterpreted as anger; it was quite palpable, and being confined to these shatterable walls could certainly increase the pressure your emotions emitted. “Not angry with you.”
Shuri moved mechanically for your washcloth and favorite mango-lime body wash, her lengthy inhale audible when she popped the cap behind you. “Okay. But you are upset about something, no?”
“Why do you think that?”
She swiped the lathered rag across your sore back, massaging your tired muscles with sensuous force. Your body cautioned you against the building moans creeping up the back of your throat, but at the moment, you couldn't care, their blare would just have to come forth. Shuri's hands all over you as she scrubbed you clean, the permeating aroma of your fruity soap, and damn, the drumming droplets of tepid water beating down on your chest were much too pleasurable to swallow any sound wishing to escape you.
Suds trickled down your shoulders, running over your bitten breasts, tickling you as you stalked the white foam on its race down your stomach with a smile.
“Because, I know you best…” You could hear the smirk in her delayed reply, and it took the remainder of your strength not to scoff.
She turned you without effort, seizing hold of your gentle eyes. Shuri’s face showcased genuine concern as she stripped your bones bare with the pretty twinkle in her stare. Her lips met your collarbone, wiping little kisses into your wet skin with her gaze still on yours. “And I always know when something is feeding on your mind.”
She dabbed the cloth between your boobs, beneath them, and your neck launched backward with a deep hum. The shower head stormed your flexing shoulder blades while Shuri ran the rag through your rolls, atop your curves, waking a broken whine when she sponged your tender hip a little too hard.
“If you know me s-so well, then you should know exactly what's on my mind, right Princess?”
Her eyes became slits in front of yours, and you watched a slow grin creep across her perfect face. “Sit. I need to wash your legs.”
“I can do that myself.” You objected just because; you knew Shuri would never allow it.
“I said sit.”
You did as you were told, easing yourself onto the built-in seat in the corner, eyeing her ass as she moved for the detachable shower head. “Thought you didn't like to repeat yourself.”
Your giggle made her shake her head, but her smirk existed there, on her pretty plump lips. Shuri kneeled, using the hoes to spray you with water. The heated spritz dissolved the suds sitting on you, and you relaxed, flattening your back against the wall with your legs spread wide.
She moved lower with the water, wetting your core carefully, stopping when you hissed under the sensation. “Is that too much?”
“S'okay.” You nodded. “Not you on your knees for me, Princess.”
Shuri grinned, replacing the shower head with the soaked washcloth before waving the soft material down your legs. “The view is perfect from down here.”
“Mmm.”
“Have I told you how much I love these?” Her hot mouth meshed with the thick expanse of your large thighs, pecking and licking your skin.
“Can't remember.”
She grabbed your shin, stretching your entire leg out and cupping it in her delicate palm, allowing her lips to wander. “Guess I must refresh your memory then, huh?”
“Mhmm.”
“I love your thighs,” An open mouth kiss burrowed into your legs, and Shuri hummed into your skin. “So beautiful, so perfect.”
Her tongue was on the climb, purling the beads of water covering you like a thirsty feline. She suckled the insides of your sprawled thighs, inching closer and closer to your throbbing heat, causing you to whimper aloud; you wouldn't even stop her if she decided it was to be her final destination.
You could tell she sensed your willingness, despite how used you felt already, and just like your uncertainty, her pride blossomed fervently in the fog. But, her mouth skipped your center entirely, drifting shamelessly to your waist. “These hips, this waist, sthandwa, Bast, if only you knew what they do to me.”
“Tell me.” Your desperation enticed her.
“I love every dip in your skin, every dent, every dimple. Being allowed to feel your wonderful curves increases my heart rate, especially now, after all the time we've spent apart. I’m hardly even worthy of this pleasure.” Shuri whispered her convictions into your cellulite.
You enjoyed when she got like this, lost in you, and in your body; you missed it. “Damn Princess, I got you like that for real?”
Shuri's lips shifted to your cushioning tummy, her teeth nibbling on your stretch marks long enough to quell her insatiable hunger for you. “You're the only person able to make me feel the things I do. You create storms inside of me, baby, fierce storms.”
“That's crazy.” You were cheesing, staring beyond the beauty of her soul as her mouth ascended to the valley of your breast: one peck, two pecks, three.
“Fuck, I love your beautiful breasts. I’m sure you know this already, hmm?” Her eager mouth latched onto your perky right nipple, swirling around the erect little nub with devotion. “Don't you know this?”
Shuri switched to the left ahead of the answer she sought as an award, distributing an equal amount of care to this bud as well. She watched you thrash from the ecstasy she brought on, listened for your small cries above her with a pleasant smile. “Every sound I elicit from you is like a symphony, pretty girl. I love it all.”
“Look at these, sthandwa.” Just like earlier, she paid special attention to the pigmented love bites staining your heaving chest. “I think I outdid myself with these.”
Shuri slid her tongue over your shoulder, sucking and kissing the divots forged by her canines; this one she took her time admiring. “Mmm, my favorite one. This isn't going away anytime soon.”
“You like marking me up.”
She stood, towering over you with lustful eyes, leaning in to capture your parted mouth. “I love marking you up. You're beautiful.”
Although she placed you peacefully on cloud nine, your mistrust remained. Shuri loved your thighs. Shuri loved your hips, your curves, your breasts; spitting out these confessions bred no hardship for her, yet still, she withheld the sole confession you craved.
“All done?” She questioned tauntingly with a smirk, and you nodded, waiting in your spot for her to finish her own shower before the raining water came to an abrupt halt.
“Hand.” You wasted not a second giving her your fingers to hold, and she steadied you on your feet. She swaddled you in your fuzzy towel once outside, trapping your wet mouth between hers for a long kiss, and like clockwork, you moaned into her accepting throat. It was then that she pulled away, matching your simper for a few beats before you shied away. “Let's get my lovely girl dressed, hmm?”
“Okay.”
•••
“Shuri that tickles, oh my god!” Your little giggles egged her on; the Princess found herself on her knees for you once again as she smoothed your fragrant cocoa butter into your rich skin, taking to the way the lotion dissolved into your feet with enlarged pupils.
“Yeah?” She smiled, biting her lip. Shuri was prettiest like this, with her guards lowered, doing the thing she loved more than her lab excursions: tending to you. “Do you want me to stop, entle?”
You shook your head, exposing the depths of your dimples to the striking woman kneeling for you, relinquishing yourself to her, and her gratifying touch. Shuri kneaded your legs expertly and intentionally, working out the tension birthed from her nefarious behavior. And it came quickly, the pleasure rush prompted to loosen your tight muscles. Her fingers were magic; she was magic.
Your sensual keens carried, filling the air as Shuri’s stimulating hands took care of you. “You're okay, right baby?”
“Mhmm.” You sucked in a sharp breath.
“And you’d tell me if it gets to be too much?”
You were panting, your body becoming a pool of limp limbs around the building pressure. “It's perfect. I-I promise.”
“Good. You deserve nothing less.”
She concluded the massage with a string of kisses on each glossy thigh to cement her obsession into your flesh. Shuri then assisted you in getting ready for bed. She helped you into your silk, lace-trimmed nightgown whispering sweet praises into your neck, the warmth of her words bristling your stray curls. “I'm so proud of you. You did so well for me tonight. From start to finish baby, you were perfect.”
She secured your headscarf neatly on your head, “Not too tight?”
“No.”
And then she tucked you into your sheets before nestling in beside you; a practiced routine ingrained in her.
You lay facing Shuri, fingers trailing her face as she watched you in the dark. Her beauty could be deemed unsettling; you did deem it so. So much of it consumed you, but you could never tire of the sense of serenity that overcame you when you stared into her sunken brown eyes. Shuri's beauty could very well be enough to make you forget that this time with her wasn't forever promised. “You're so pretty, Shuri.”
“I know.”
There lived something else on her tongue, but voicing it proved to be challenging. “Say what you're thinking, Princess.”
“I-I missed your sheets. Missed how the scent of your laundry detergent always clings to me after I lay beside you in them.”
You hummed lowly; this may have been a truth, but it was not the one gnawing at her brain. Rarely did your Panther get choked up, so it was fair to say Shuri fought her words now, out of stubbornness. The two of you knew what she wanted to say, and you knew she hoped your awareness would suffice, but you refused to let her get off so easily, not after tonight, not after everything.
“Shuri.”
She kissed your cheek before engulfing you and rooting her curls into your beating heart. “I know.”
“Then say it.”
“I will.” Shuri pressed her lips into your sternum, the action barring you from fighting your slumber any longer. Her warmth lulled your aching bones, your tender flesh, and you let those tired eyes of yours flutter shut, capturing one last image of her cuddling you before allowing yourself to dive.
•••
Sun rays woke you up, making you roll on your side to dodge the light spilling through your curtains. Ultimately the wrong move, because you ached still. You let weak fingers course your sides, slowly, gently, flinching when they swept a particularly sore spot. “Fuck you, Shuri.”
As the quiet mumble left your mouth, you realized, her side of the mattress was barren. The only proof that she'd lain with you being the dent she left in her wake, one that had now run cold. Her departure wasn't the least bit surprising though, it was predictable if anything.
You weren't hurt by it either, what you felt now was disappointment, and in yourself nonetheless. Because you’d fallen right back into Shuri. And for a fleeting moment, when she tangled herself into you last night, you did away with your doubt and permitted belief. Belief that you’d wake up in her embrace, belief that just maybe, the sex could spawn some sort of new beginning for the two of you. A silly thought apparently.
You rolled your eyes with a groan. Attempting to sit up was a bust, your back stung at the movement, and gravity sank her claws into you pulling you right back into your bed.
“Did you just attempt to get up?” Fuck. It should be embarrassing. You should be embarrassed at the way you responded to that amused accent wafting through the air. It yanked you forward with a quickness, forcing you to ignore your tired muscles screaming for you to lay back down.
Shuri sauntered closer to you, a tower of identifiable boxes filling her fists. When she reached the velvet ottoman perched in front of your bed, she sat them down, eyeing you brazenly.
Her smirk, another thing recognizable; Shuri revered the way you fought your pain just to look at her.
You scolded yourself, but ultimately in vain because once she beckoned you forth with that finger, you were crawling, making your way to the foot of the bed amidst the protests of your tendons.
She strangled your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes would connect. “So good for me.”
You nodded, hoping she'd notice your puckered lips coated in and dripping desperation. “Aww, would my good girl like a kiss?”
“Yes.”
Shuri’s fingers tunneled into your cheeks, adding to the entire body ache you were suffering through, but you couldn't care if you tried. It was worth it; a kiss from those lips could mend it all. “Okay.”
She blew the word into your mouth as she leaned in, weaving her soft lips into your anxious ones passionately. You whimpered, realizing you were right — Shuri's kiss did hold the power to alleviate your pain.
The longer she kept her tongue in your mouth, the looser you felt, akin to the sea, and its shapelessness, just simply flowing. But, your euphoria only lasted for so long. Your steady tides were submersive, and she could no longer breathe, so she pulled away, breaking the kiss and earning a whine from you as she came up for air.
“You're insatiable.” She mocked, admiring your pout.
You huffed, allowing your eyes to meander away from hers and down to the boxes she brought in. “What are these?”
“Peace offerings.”
Your dimples popped out, and you gasped. “For me?”
“No, for Riri.” Shuri sat on the ottoman, glancing over her shoulder at you playfully with a sarcastic chuckle. “Of course they're for you, baby. Now are you going to open them?”
You reached for one of the boxes, positioning it in front of you, excitement brewing in your chest as you undid the ribbon, “When did you have time to get these anyway?”
“Does that matter?”
Your grumble was hardly disguised, but you refused to let her snark get to you now, not when there was a cloaked Chanel resting atop your comforter, and another two designer bags just centimeters away. When you lifted the box’s lid, you became acquainted with the familiar pearl-shaded wrapping paper that bundled the purse, unfolding it carefully so as to not rip it.
The paper crinkled in your fingers, falling away from the dust bag housing your anticipated prize. You sensed Shuri’s anxious eyes on your hands, their restlessness strengthening the longer you took to unravel the luxury purse laying dormant inside its packaging. It was quite cute, to say the least, the way she seemed eager for your approval of her choice, and it made you giggle.
You slipped the handbag out finally, allowing your fingers to dawdle across the light blue lambskin leather, fascination guiding their touch. It was a beautiful piece, though you expected nothing less. The gold hardware held most of your attention as you grazed it with your thumb, inspecting the chain, and reminiscing on last night's car ride, a reminder still engraving your wrists.
“Well?”
You smiled at her, getting lost in her frenzied brown eyes, “It's very pretty.”
“And do you like it?” She pressed.
You dipped your head, “I do.”
“Good. Now open the others please.”
Shuri observed as you unboxed the other two purses she bought with a delighted little grin; she was always proud of herself when her gifts made you happy. The second one was a sand-colored Cannage Lambskin Lady Dior Bag, and the last a YSL Sunset Chain Bag in the shade Noir. She also tossed in two pairs of Prada sunglasses you'd been eyeing, how she found out about them was beyond you.
“Shuri,” You were deep in thought before you raised your head from her chest. “How much did all that shit cost?” The two of you had been cuddling in your bed for over thirty minutes, and you just couldn't get the calculations off your mind.
She laughed a little, peering into your curious eyes, “Why? You've never cared about a price tag before.”
She was right, you were never one to worry about prices when purchasing any item, and you certainly never cared when it was Shuri’s pockets being emptied. But, a singular medium Chanel classic flap was well over ten thousand dollars... “What's the occasion?”
“Does there need to be one?” She laughed again, noting your annoyance through your slanted eyes. “Consider them an apology, for the one I broke last night. I was saving them for your birthday, but giving them to you now seemed more appropriate.”
“And I'm post to consider them that ‘I love you’ I been waiting on too?” At this point, you were over her little game of dangling what you wanted right in your face without ever letting you actually have it, and a few purses couldn't make that vexation disappear.
God, she was so fucking patronizing with that stupid smirk. You wanted to peel yourself from the wicked way she enveloped your sensitive skin, to slip her caressing hand from underneath your nightgown where she stroked circles into your back; you wanted to scream in her face, but you didn't, because you couldn't, and you grew even more agitated by your own weakness.
“Impatient girl.”
Your eyes rolled when her lips landed on your forehead, “How much longer I gotta wait for you to say it Shuri? If this ain't what I think it is,” You gestured between the two of you, “You gotta let me know now. Ion wanna embarrass myself more than I already did.”
“And what do you think this is? What do you think we are?”
“Don't fuck–” She tutted as a warning, but this time you refused to heed it. “Don't fucking play with me Shuri. Be serious for like two seconds, I know that's some challenging shit for you, but just try, humor me.”
She sighed, pulling you back to her chest after you tried pushing away, “You know the entire reason I came here was because I missed you.” She blew a light laugh before continuing. “I didn't think I would, because I didn't think I'd even get the chance to. I figured maybe you'd last a few days, a week at most, before you were back in my bed. But damn it, pretty girl, you don't fucking play fair.”
“Shuri…”
“Hush baby, I need to say this.” You nodded for her to carry on. “Three months. You made me go three months without your smile, without your laugh, your touch. Fuck, three whole months without your smell, sthandwa. Waking up and not having my eyes land on you in my sheets was excruciating. It was also very humbling to say the least. And then I show up here to win you back, only to see you were moving on, with her. Bast I fucking hated that, I hated seeing her touch what was mine.”
You listened wordlessly to Shuri’s monologue, eyes wide, bulging, brimming. “I loathed the way you would giggle for her, because I can tell when you're really laughing. And you always were with her, every night she walked you to the front door, I heard the authenticity in it. I used to make you laugh that way, I used to be the only one able to. And that day I came home to the sight of her… i-inside of you, I quite literally wanted to die right there. The visual of that, it cut me so fucking deep, and I knew I was done letting you slip further away from me.”
You chewed your lip, ingesting Shuri's words for a moment before offering up some of your own, “Do you know why I broke up with you, Shuri?”
“Because I'm an asshole. Because I'm selfish. Because I won't ever change. And you were tired of me not realizing how much the shit I do affects you.” She spoke it with a cocky smile that should churn your stomach, but everything she did and said just had to be sexy. Fuck her.
She did a pretty good job of understating the speech you spewed the day you ended things, leaving out the part where you tossed your Kimoyo beads at her head. “That's not it.”
“It's not?”
You shook your head, “I wanted that to be the reason, but I knew deep down that it wasn't.”
Her hot palm rubbing your back stuttered for a second before continuing, “Then what was?”
“You are an asshole, but I was lying to you and to myself when I said I cared about that. I knew I should've, but I didn't, and I don't. I don't give a damn about how you treat people who aren't me, Shuri. I love knowing that my feelings are the only ones that matter to you. I love knowing that I’m your world. I know that makes me selfish, but I don't care about that either.”
Her hand stopped completely after your admission, and she gazed down at you, perplexed, “So… you broke up with me because you didn't like who I was turning you into?”
“But that's the thing Shuri, you didn't turn me into anyone who I wasn't already. And I guess breaking up with you was my stupid way of trying to run from that realization. How could I blame you for being who you were when your entire personality was the main reason I was drawn to you when we first met? You saw how fast I left my ex for you.”
Her chuckle reverberated through your entire body, “Wow. And I had to fuck your pretty little brains out in front of what's her name for you to finally admit this?”
“Oh my god, you're so unserious. The only things I'm admitting to are still loving you, and still wanting to b-be with you.” You stammered a little, you hadn't wanted to repeat the L word before you heard it leave her lips first, but you were practicing vulnerability now, the very thing you accused Shuri of not expressing, so it was out.
“You're mine,” Shuri reached beside her on your side table, retrieving a flat beige box you seemed to have missed amongst the others. “You know that?”
You nodded your head against her racing heart, “You belong to me, solely mine. And I am yours, I will belong to you for as long as I am able to draw breath. These are indubitable truths, thando-iwam.” (my love)
“Damn Shuri, all I wanted was a lil ‘I love you too’ or something, yo dramatic ass always doing too fucking much.” You giggled, choking back a sob.
She pushed the top open, revealing the Kimoyo bead bracelet that once adorned your wrist, and you shook your head at her ironic nature. “I do love you,” She lifted your wrist that lined her torso, attaching her watering mouth to the eye-catching lilac bruise dwelling on the spot for a few seconds, and then, she slid her creation around it, appreciating the fact that the bracelet was now back where it belonged. “What I don't love is that vulgar mouth of yours.”
“Whatever.”
“Sit up and look at me.” When your eyes fastened to hers, she clasped your face in her palms tenderly. “I love you. I exist for you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
She leaned in, this kiss sheltering a whirlwind of emotions, a whirlwind of want, and the sweetest hint of evanescence. But you knew, and Shuri knew, that the feelings disbursed between the pair of you were not the kind to ever vanish.
“So, what's this I hear about a birthday trip?” Her lips curved ever so slightly in her whisper, making you laugh.
“How do you know about that?”
“Doesn't matter how I know, what concerns me is the invitation I didn't receive. But, I'm willing to move past this transgression. I know you had sooo much going on these past three weeks, I could never blame you for forgetting me.” She bit her lip with that daring look in her eyes, making you scoff at her boldness.
You settled into Shuri's chest again, with her hand slithering its way back under your silk sleepwear, eager to perform against your blazing skin once more. “You're so damn aggravating.”
“Yeah, I know. Now tell me, on which tropical island will you be allowing me to do even more sinful things to your perfect body?”
summary: don't fuck fans. this was your rule. unfortunately though, the development of this rule came only after you'd done just that. and now, you cannot seem to outrun your mistake.
word count: longg <3
contains: singer!reader, obsessed!fan!riri, mean!reader, semi mean!riri, possessive!riri, jealous!riri, ooc riri, tbh riri herself is a warning, toxic dynamics, some darkish themes?, mentions of stalking, smut (18+), dom!reader, sub!riri, bratty!riri, riri is mouthy & very unhinged, oral, choking, knife play (riri loves her knife), light nipple play, mentions of blood, car sex, public sex?, strap!reader, fingering (riri receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, spanking, crying, biting, pain!kink, masturbation, strap sucking (barely), use of drugs (pills), rough sex
note: uhhhh, just stay with me, walk with me!!! see it the way i’m seeing it first!!! the car scene/smut is heavily inspired by ohmami by chase atlantic & maggie lindemann, i've had that song on repeat for weeks just sitting in my ideas. i would suggest listening to it to understand some of the references lol. other songs that inspired this fic: misunderstood - kodie shane, don't fight it - kodie shane, f&mu - kehlani, triggered - chase atlantic, off my head - kodie shane and then ohmami last. also this is dedicated to that anon who was screaming in my askbox for sub!riri for like a month, i saw you fren. i had too much fun writing this even though it killed my brain, i didn't even think i was gon post it fr. but anywhoo, hope y'all enjoy! mwah, mwah!!
Bright neon lights illuminated the stage, your crimson-hued silhouette resembling that of a deity from where you stood, bathing in the crowd’s continuous chant of your name. There were distinguishable cracks in the voices rushing you, throats more than likely sore from the ear-piercing screams bellowing out of them, yet still, they endured, glazed eyes stalking you in sheer adoration. Your audience clung to your every lyric, your every move down to the bounce of your sweaty curls as you pranced around the stage.
You were in your element, entrancing their minds with a power you had yet to grow used to.
In your chest, your heart gained life, its thump a deafening pound resounding in your ears; if the beating were any louder, the microphone clasped in your fist would surely pick it up. But it was yours to hear, just like the sensation of your stomach in your throat was yours to feel — the absence of your mind yours to know.
Calling your love for performing an addiction would be an understatement. You were your most authentic self on stage, every surge of adrenaline dosing the high you were jonesing for. Your confidence blossomed, not as a mirage, but as the most corporeal entity your body could conjure up, differing greatly from your branded media persona of an arrogant, entitled, asshole.
These were titles intended to condemn following the very messy breakup with your now ex-girlfriend, renowned actress Syla Slate. Gorgeous, talented, beloved by all of America; she was their sweetheart, so naturally, she won the public’s favor in the split. But your resilience had been a thing miscounted, and woefully so; you wore your scarlet letters with honor, refusing to clear up rumors surrounding your infidelity.
If there were words to be said, feelings to unpack, you would express them on the stage before the thousands of people holding your word as bond, which happened to be the exact thing you did now.
“London!” You commanded the audience with outstretched arms, your very presence eliciting a thunderous uproar. “I ain't think y'all could get any louder.”
The drove of onlookers read your disbelief as a challenge, shouts climbing the arena walls as the sharp octave punctured your eardrums.
You popped out your in-ears, unable to halt the slow smile stretching across your features. You were proud, proud that they risked the health of their voices just to hear yours. “Well alright, I guess y’all could get louder.”
They chuckled as a collective, making you follow suit, “I got one more song for you lot. That's what y’all be saying over here, right? You lot? Shidd, my southern ass wouldn't know,” They laughed again at your terrible rendition of a British accent. “Anyway, like I was saying, I got one more song, y’all cool with that?”
Just as you expected, shriek after shriek bled into one another, melding to create a boisterous sound that expanded around the O2 Arena, and you let your smile broaden as you secured your microphone back into its stand. “Ooh, y’all sound excited!”
The slowed tempo of your closing track began its waft, filling the speakers, the ears of your admirers, and your system all at once. They recognized the beat within seconds, the bass now competing with their cries.
A little bit of that arrogance you chose not to refute came peeking through as you adjusted your mic stand, “Oh y'all know this one, huh?” And they yelled again, satisfying you.
You shut your eyes, expiring a shaky breath into the grille of the mic in preparation, allowing the music to seize hold of you. Your digits trembled around the mouthpiece, and your rings scraped the surface.
Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.
Instinctively, the lyrics vacated your mouth, and instinctively, your sockets began to well. You fought the tears, keeping your lids tight in protest of the tumble they threatened.
But, every time I try to up and walk away,
You come around and start to love me, love me better.
Your emotions and your wet eyes were both the epitome of irony. How many shows had you closed with this very song? Why were the waterworks threatening to spill now?
Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way
Perhaps they were due to the truth stewing inside you. Tonight wasn't just the last show of your tour, it would be your last live performance for a while. You would be leaving your heart on this stage tonight. A difficult decision made, but a necessary one nonetheless. Perhaps this was your body attempting to accept this fact.
Every time I try to up and walk away,
You make a promise that you'll love me, love me better
Love me, love me better
After a moment, your eyes fluttered open and the tears swelling your orbs rained down, fogging your vision. You loosened your strangle on the mic, only now realizing how tight you held to it. As you gazed at the sea of bodies, you noted their red eyes and damp cheeks. They were screaming your song back at you, your lyrics dragging through the air.
It wasn't uncommon to witness your fans crying at your shows; your music overwhelmed them; their connection to you overwhelmed them, and the vulnerability birthed from this emotional exchange overwhelmed you.
I think I'd rather just be misunderstood,
Found out your love ain't no good.
You took in the masses, scanning their dazed smiles as you continued to sing, and that's when you saw her.
Through the mist in your eyes, she emerged out of nothingness. Clad in lace, sporting that devilish smirk that curdled your blood, wearing those dark irises brewed to the brim with mischief. You could always pick her out in any crowd, which looking back, had been the commencement of your own undoing.
Had me at hello, got me with a kiss, left me in abyss.
She swayed to the music, mouthing the words with those dangerous fucking lips. Lips that could ruin your life with a single utterance, lips that did ruin your life, your relationship.
When you finally let your eyes meet, she bared her white teeth, taunting you in that way she often did. You were seething and she knew it, her swift little wink a testament to her knowledge.
You should turn away, rip your gaze from hers, focus on the tear-stained faces in the audience. You should ignore the abrupt shift in your heart’s thump, how it rattled in rage now at an uncomfortable rate. You shouldn't allow her to get to you just by simply existing.
Don’t want my heart cold, so I took it off of my neck and my wrist.
But, in an arena sculpted to house twenty thousand, a lone Riri Williams faded your performance high just by being.
God she was maddening, and inescapable it seemed, no matter the continent you ventured to. To the rest of the world, it'd look like you were serenading her in a bubble where just the two of you existed, but you both knew better. Your anger was palpable to her alone, something she counted on; you’d played this game of hers long enough to hone certain skills, like how to bury your building fury. Your muscles tensed, your knees locked in place as you returned to choking the mic yet again, sizzling under your elevating temperature.
You sang through your irritation though, spitting your venomous lyrics directly in her face as she watched, amused. She wouldn't ruin this parting performance for you.
Found out it was mostly lust but not love.
You kept your eyes on her for the duration of the song, earning jealous stares from the other girls rallying around her, their own hopes of soliciting your gaze made obvious. They were shoving, and yelling, yanking the barricade aggressively, yet still, all your focus lay on Riri. It's what she hoped for, to ensure chaos, to make it obvious she did not need to vie for your attention, she just… simply had it.
You were strengthening her pride, the last thing you sought to do, but looking away from her proved to be impossible.
Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.
But, every time I try to up and walk away,
You come around and start to love me, love me better,
Love me, love me better…
Confetti raining from the heavens emulated her skin's shine, golden and distracting, the showers causing you to rip your stare away from her briefly. When the dust settled, she’d vanished, disappearing like she'd never existed, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself with a head shake.
“London, thank you, I love you. I’m gonna miss you!”
With that, the lights dimmed, giving you time to evacuate the stage swiftly and stealthily. Off you went, mind still muddled with the smugness she wore on her features as she gawked at you with feral eyes.
Riri being in town meant trouble, and you wanted no fucking part in whatever she had planned.
•••
After leaving the venue your entire body felt numb and fatigued, so you instructed your driver to take you straight back to your hotel. Typically, your routine concluding a performance would involve saying hello to fans who stayed behind after the show, you'd done it countless times, but not tonight. With Riri on the loose, you couldn't chance running into her anywhere, not in your current state of exhaustion. If she was to meet you this way, you were ashamed to admit that it would take zero effort on her part to coax you into doing whatever she wished.
You weren't too tired to be furious though, allowing the emotion to take precedence over your shame; you intended to use said fury to venture as far away from Riri Williams' deranged ass as you could manage.
The length of your silent car ride was spent with your head propped on the cool window, pondering her being in London. You didn't have to question her why; Riri fought valiantly to be wherever you were, but her how, that remained somewhat of a mystery.
How was it plausible for her to be in Europe right now? Her finals should be consuming the majority of her time, clashing with the schedule for the last leg of your tour. You knew this because you planned this.
For the first fifteen stops, there were no tour buses broken into, no dressing room locks tampered with, your shows remained uninterrupted, and you hadn't had to suffer through your usual internal battle when facing off with your biggest weakness. All was fine until tonight, your final concert.
How convenient, you thought, though you supposed her powers should in no way surprise you anymore. You knew the things Riri was capable of, experienced the fate of her actions.
Which was why you decided a quiet night in your hotel would be your chosen way of decompressing. When you pulled up to where you were staying, you shot your manager a text informing her you would not be attending the after-party thrown in your honor. Parties meant paparazzi and their intrusive questions about your relationship, or rather, the lack thereof. But most annoyingly, parties meant Riri, and her covert ways of always weaseling past security at events she presumed you to be at.
And you would pass on dealing with either scenario tonight.
The elevator chimed, doors sliding open on your floor and you stepped out, trotting swiftly toward your suite with a hot shower in mind, one that would rinse away your stressors.
Upon unlocking the door though, there was an immediate sense of something being off, the instinct an acquired habit after your colossal mistake of intertwining your life with Riri's. Every day since you'd been made to look over your shoulder. You stalked deeper into your room, eyes trailing to your rumpled white comforter pulled back as though someone had lain in your sheets.
Before you left that morning, you'd made your bed, another acquired habit, this one drilled into you by your grandmother growing up, and one you practiced diligently when sleeping in threads that weren't your own.
So naturally, with the sight laid out before you, your mind ran straight to the only person you knew could be responsible. The pillow on the right side of the bed was dented, and one of your silk button-ups from a previous concert sat in a pool on the carpet. You bent over to pick it up, pulling it to your nose for a deep inhale to find that you were indeed correct; the intoxicating aroma of Riri's perfume misted the fabric, forcing an unintentional smirk to crack across your lips. You battled against its appearance and lost, as usual.
She was here, in your room, in your bed, wearing your clothes. And recently too, her floral scent still lingering on your linens serving as proof. Your eyes rolled on command, but you decided to ignore the knowledge you'd just gained, mind still set on that well-earned shower. You figured you could still get to it, if Riri had still been around, her presence would've been made known the moment you stepped through the threshold.
Her absence indicated one thing though; she wanted you to come find her, but you wouldn't play into her hand. You were far too tired, and far too over her games.
You began a leisure strip, stepping out of your leather pants and dressing down to your undergarments before making your way to the bathroom. You stopped short when your toes met the tiled floor, gawking at the scene awaiting your attention.
Scarlet petals floated atop long departed waters, blanketing the bath that had now run cold. They were scattered across the floor as well, and the lasting whiff of outed lavender candles filled the air. A discarded bra hung off the side of the tub, matching panties too, and you sighed, stepping on the torn roses as you walked further into the bathroom. She sure knew how to make herself at home.
When you stood before the sink, your eyes dropped instantly to the counter, glued to the promiscuous polaroids littered across it.
Every last one of Riri, every last one taken in your bed. Your shirt draped her body in some, the golden shade making her skin pop beneath the material, mimicking the confetti from earlier. But she was fully naked in most, bare breasts and nipple jewelry exposed with her perfectly manicured fingers playing in her pretty cunt. You picked them up one by one, examining the images further.
The angles were impressive, you couldn't lie, and you appreciated her effort. Like her position in the picture your thumb grazed now; Riri was bent over, ass high in the air, her dripping folds glistening in the perfect shot.
The more time spent gaping at the photos, the stickier your underwear became, clinging to your own saturated cunt. Riri's effect on you wasn't some unknown thing, you were aware of it, she was damn sure aware of it, and these polaroids displayed below you were her version of a reminder, but you chose to stare anyway, reveling in the building throb at your center.
In the final one, her locs cloaked her shoulders, slightly shielding her nipples from your view. But your focus did not lie there, instead, the hefty-looking purple toy rammed into her tight hole stole your attention. It stretched her wide, the pleasure causing her head to sling backward, and those pretty lips to part, forming the most pitiful little 'o' you'd ever seen.
It was this shot that compelled your hand's betrayal, your shower partially forgotten as you slipped your digits beneath the waistband of your panties. One stroke of your swelling clit had your throat craning, imitating Riri's in the photo, a rugged moan slipping free as you splashed around in your wetness, eyes fluttering in response to the sensation.
Before you could really delve into pleasuring yourself though, you glanced at the mirror, reading the words written on it, words you'd somehow missed upon entry.
You rolled your eyes and freed your damp hands from your pussy, arousal on a mission to flee your body. It was replaced instead, by your previous rush of agitation as you reread her cheeky message.
“Did you miss me?” Scribbled across the glass in ruby-red lipstick, the question enclosed in her literal kisses.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
•••
In an interesting twist of events, you'd found yourself in the hotel bar nursing a rum and coke with your thumb looming over a poorly typed text message, those photos still weighing heavy on your head.
Under steaming streams meant to wash her likeness away, your pussy had a vastly different idea in mind, wrangling your fingers in on the plan against your will as you fucked yourself to the thought of her. You came harder than you had in weeks, though the orgasm did nothing to relax your spinning mind.
That's what the alcohol was for, or, what it was supposed to be for anyway.
You’d wandered downstairs in disgrace, desperately needing to drink your actions away. But rather than the escape you chased after, you were met with only more shame at the bottom of your glass. It was your single drink that prompted the idea of texting Syla. A risky move, and a cliché at that, texting your ex the second a drop of liquor kissed your lips. But, you’d done worse things, quite literally moments before drafting the unsent message you still stared at.
You supposed it was the guilt of your shower excursions truly driving your choice. She deserved an explanation for everything, a proper one, and providing that hadn't been an accessible opportunity over the past few months. She was busy on set, and you were on tour, battling the everlasting presence of the demon at fault for your parting.
Riri Williams.
You'd met her a year and a half ago, when your career was on the climb, and the line of girls willing to do whatever you wanted on the promise of a good fuck and a shot at being your next video vixen was unending. You never delivered on the latter part of that promise, but after experiencing the former, they hadn't the capability to mind much.
It was a routine you developed, sleeping with girls after every show, slutting them out, then sending them on their merry ways immediately after. So when the girl with full lips and sinful eyes caught your attention in a Chicago crowd, you knew immediately she was to be your next conquest.
She was alluring, unsettlingly so as she bopped to your singing with a smirk hanging off her blood-red lips. Danger lurked beneath that smirk, lying wait, and you took notice. It should've been your first sign to steer clear of the menacing beauty, but, you were stubborn by nature, and evidently your own worst enemy. So you stooped on the stage, extended your hand to meet hers, laced your fingers together, and sent the audience into a frenzy when you dedicated your celebratory ode to the soul foretold to doom your life.
Riri was the first of your plethora of playthings able to keep up with your stamina. She was fucking feral, and insatiable, hell-bent on riding your strap off of its harness. You weren't ashamed at the time to admit she was the best you’d ever had, and that was only after one night together.
You hadn't even questioned her appearances at multiple gigs and events afterward; you were way too gone off the sex to notice the sprouting problem. Much like performing, you were developing an addiction to her, and the heat between her thighs. Submerging your tongue deep within her wet walls provided the same jolt of adrenaline you received from being on stage, if not more. Bending her over to demolish her from the back got you higher than the chants from thousands of fans ever would.
When you finally did come up for air long enough to acknowledge your predicament, it had been far too late. You began to pull away, wanting to wean yourself off of the drug that was Riri. But she wasn't going for that.
Where you tried dousing your addiction into a dwindling flame, Riri's obsession flourished like a forest fire.
Denying her access to yourself was possibly the worst decision you could have ever made. It didn't stop her from finding your studio, damaging your car engine and conveniently being nearby to help fix it, she even went as far as getting jobs at the venues you played just so she could see you, only to quit directly after your set.
Her ways of maneuvering were mind-boggling, frustrating you to your very core because no matter the effort you poured into it, leaving Riri alone was a task you found to be formidable. She'd show up, and you'd give in. Every. Single. Time.
All of that came to a crashing halt when she obtained your home address, deciding to break in as some grand romantic gesture to “win you back.” You didn't read it that way, obviously, and you branded her a lunatic who had no part in your life. You fucked her like she was nothing and sent her packing, threatening a restraining order if she didn't leave you alone from then on.
Dating Syla forced you to make good on that threat. Your relationship was fairly new at the time, but you liked her enough to want to keep Riri miles and miles away from her. You were at a place of contentment in your career, the need to collect a harem of women washed from your system after the nightmare of your last encounter, and peace seemed like an obtainable thing, or at least some semblance of it, with Riri gone for good.
It's what she allowed you to believe anyway, until she'd apparently had enough of watching you be happy with a woman who wasn't her.
You'd received a text composed of the same words signed across the mirror upstairs.
Did you miss me?
And it wasn't much longer before Syla was on the line, screaming obscenities at you through the phone.
“Lying bitch.”
“Cheating ass hoe.”
“Fucking slut.”
“We're Done.”
She hung up without letting you get a word of defense in, leaving you more so angry than heartbroken. Because it was undeniable that the cause of Syla's unrest and the text on your screen somehow coincided. A truth confirmed when your phone started dinging off the hook.
Riri liked to take flicks.
“To commemorate the moment.” She'd say, and it had already been discovered that telling her no wasn't a thing you could do, so you always let her pull the camera out, far too turned on by the idea of your own personal collection of home movies with Riri in your phone.
In hindsight, you should've guessed they'd come back to bite you in the ass eventually, despite Riri's accomplished skill to manipulate. How she'd managed to convince you the tapes existed in your phone alone was embarrassingly beyond you.
Because there they all were, coming through one by one as you sat on the edge of your bed, dumbfounded.
Syla had forwarded every piece of incriminating evidence that backed up her accusations to you. There were dozens of photos, dozens of videos, all of you and Riri over the year she spent in and out of your sheets. None of them recent, but that ceased to matter. Your girlfriend had seen images of your strap down Riri's throat, watched videos of her back arching impressively for you. And your words; her ears were exposed to the vulgar phrases you hissed as you fucked Riri senseless, phrases you'd never once mouthed to her in the bedroom.
Which was why your conscience scolded you so, because the hurt dampening her words that day was unmistakable for anything else. Yet, you ignored that fact in the shower, huffing Riri's name as you permitted a climax brought on by her image to rattle your bones.
You sighed, finally hitting send on the message just as the bartender approached you, “Oof, you look like you could use another one of those. My shift ends soon, but I could make you another if you'd like.”
Her name tag read Esperanza. Pretty, you thought, a pretty name for a pretty girl. Almost pretty enough to tempt a yes out of you, “Could you ask me again, preferably in an accent that isn't as attractive as yours so I can say no? Because I really, really wanna say no.”
She laughed when you groaned in frustration, rewarding you with a blinding smile that unexpectedly heated your cheeks, “I mean I could, my Swedish accent is pretty terrible, that might work. But I won't, seeing as it's in the job description to seduce guests into buying more alcohol with my voice.”
“Is it?” You questioned with a small smirk.
“Yeah. Especially the pretty American ones like yourself.”
You opened your mouth, fully prepared to retort with something equally as flirtatious, but then your phone buzzed in your palm, capturing your attention as your eyes fell to the device in hopes of seeing Syla's name lighting the screen, only to be met with disappointment.
You wanna fuck that bitch or something?
The number unknown, but the sender was far from.
“Would you excuse me?” You spoke finally and Esperanza nodded, returning to her business of cleaning the counter down.
You stood up from the stool with darting eyes, scanning the bar for any signs of her presence but to no avail. When your phone rang, you answered it without a second thought.
“Where are you?”
Soon, Riri’s permanently teasing voice chimed in your ears, “Hi baby, you miss me?”
She giggled, and you imagined her somewhere twirling her hair around her finger, smiling innocently to herself.
You huffed into the mic, already beyond irritated with her antics, “Riri, where are you?”
“Ugh, baby, why you always so hostile?”
“I told you to stop fucking calling me that.”
“Don't be mean to me. I'm sensitive, baby.” You could hear the frown in her voice, the way her tone took a dive indicating she'd been truly hurt by your words, which only annoyed you more.
“No, you're fucking crazy.” She paused, just like you'd anticipated, and you listened for her intake of breath, smirking when the faint sound of her gasp blessed you. You knew her eye twitched like it always did, you just wished you had the pleasure of witnessing it for yourself.
“I don't like that word.” Her declaration blew through the speaker cold as ice.
You dragged your hand over your face, losing the patience you barely had to begin with. “Riri, what do you want?”
“Did you see my pictures, baby?” Just like that, she did away with the chill lacing her voice, returning it to its usual chipper pitch. “Did you like them? I figured you'd need something to… relax you after your big performance. You did so well by the way, I’m proud of you.”
The thrill that shot through you from her praise would have to go ignored, because you weren't trying to deal with any of your conflicting emotions for the psychotic girl on the other end of the call. “What do you want from me?”
“You and Esperanza looked cozy flirting at the bar. Can't say I wasn't jealous, you never talk to me like that. But if you like her, I could help get y’all together, give you a helping hand and shit. Now that you single.” She giggled slightly after finishing her last sentence.
You turned, eyeing the bar once again. It was mostly empty, save for the three girls in a corner booth, the security guard posted at the door, and yourself. Esperanza had left it seemed, clocking out like she promised, leaving you alone with the ghost of Riri on your line.
You rolled your eyes, remembering how you still suffered the ramifications from the last time she felt inclined to offer a helping hand, “Your crazy ass blew up my fucking relationship and you think I want your help?”
She remained silent for a lengthy amount of time, almost tricking you into believing the line went dead. It wasn't until you were lowering the phone from your ear that she cleared her throat, and you braced yourself for impact. “She could never satisfy you and you fucking know it. You ain't even like her for real, you just wanted a new bitch laid up under you after I stopped giving you access to this pussy baby.”
If the word delusional existed as a person, her name would be Riri Williams.
“You're fucking insane do you know that? Like something is genuinely wrong with you if you think–”
Riri cut you off, “Let's not forget I wasn't alone in our little movies baby. You can't blame your fuck ass relationship failing all on me, because if I remember correctly, you was the one holding the camera while you was blowing my shit, wasn't you?”
Your throat dried, your vision reddened, and your phone shook inside your fist. You couldn't speak because there were no words to be said. “Ri–”
“You know what? I change my mind, I won't help you with Esperanza after all. I like having you to myself anyway. You still want me, and with ole girl out the picture, we can go back to how we used to be.”
“Tell me where the fuck you are Riri.” There was a thud on her end, one that you also heard inside the bar. She was definitely somewhere close.
She tsked, “Nuh-uh baby, you gotta come find me. I got a surprise for you.”
And she hung up the phone, the beep forcing an exasperated sigh from your lips as you stood hopeless in the middle of the bar.
•••
For as long as you’d known Riri, she'd always been obsessed with the never-ending game of hide and seek she trapped you in, forcing the role of being it on you every time. She wanted you scouring the hotel for her while she waited, sitting pretty in whatever cranny she'd made herself comfortable in. She wanted you to do what you always did when you inevitably smoked her out of hiding: punish her for her bad behavior.
Fuck what she wanted.
You wouldn't give in, not this time, and what better way to ensure this case than leaving the hotel entirely? It was late, the night breeze dry as the valet pulled your brand new Ferrari GTC4Lusso around the front, the street lights reflecting off its bold cherry tint. A destination was the furthest thing from your mind when you climbed inside the car, but truthfully, you didn't require one. Driving was merely a ploy to put some distance between you and Riri.
The car’s rumble when you pulled off wasn't one loud enough to drown out your screaming thoughts, much to your dismay. You’d hoped, at the very least, that the revving engine, and the openness of the endless motorway you were now zipping down recklessly, would be enough to dampen your anger. But alas, vexation was an ever-present emotion whenever you found yourself in proximity to her, or rather, when she forced proximity between the pair of you, and it didn't emerge for the reasons you wished it did.
Your adrenaline was rocketing, heart rate spiking in tandem with the numbers on the dash as your toes pushed into the pedal, but despite all this, your sour mood remained. Because you could not discredit Riri's infuriating claim; you wanted her still. You'd endured months without her, abiding by the useless lies that failed to convince you otherwise. That lust for her taste lingered, that lust for her feel, all of it.
Lust that Syla could never satiate, and you often got the sense she wasn't heedless to that truth.
“Fuck!” You cursed aloud, eyes flickering to your dinging phone screen colored in her text messages.
You almost reached for the device resting in the mount, crippling guilt once again driving your decision-making. But you reminded yourself you were behind the wheel, just as an identifiable sensation against your bobbing larynx sent a chilling shiver down your spine, and molded you still in your seat. Briefly, cautiously, you allowed your eyes to leave the road, causing the car to swerve unintentionally into another lane when your gaze became acquainted with the object pinning you down. Beautiful, black, and blinding; the razor-edged blade tacked to your flesh was accompanied by the sweetest pain, and a deeply sultry voice. “We don't text and drive, baby. Leave the bitch on delivered.”
When she spoke, it irritatingly settled your breathing, but not enough to assist you in regaining control of the steering wheel clutched in your fists. There were other cars on the road honking at your continued shifting, but what could you really do when there was an insane girl holding a knife to your throat as you drove? “Riri...”
“I told you to come find me and you didn't.” She spat harshly. Just your fucking luck, she was upset.
“Riri, Ima crash this fucking car if you don't move that shit from my throat.”
She ignored you of course, opting to press the knife in harder. If it were her goal, she could break through skin, the choking pressure indicative of the power she wielded, and in any other circumstance you'd probably be enjoying her lethal way of incapacitating you. “Why didn't you come find me? I was waiting for you.”
“I'm not finna play this game with your psychotic ass tonight Riri. I said fucking move that shit.”
Once again, your cry fell on deaf ears. She kept her hand looped around the driver's seat, knife firm in her fingers as she tightened her grip on the decorative, golden handle.
You listened to her airy exhale, flinched beneath its warmth when it plowed into your expecting cheek, and it was then that you allowed your glare to capture hers in the rearview mirror. Her lips, pouty and red-stained, twitched at the corners, morphing into a foreboding smirk that traveled straight up to her smoky eyes. Eyes that were deep, eyes that were dark, and exceedingly dangerous; like a void you were destined to forever fall victim to.
Riri launched her body forward, nibbling on your bare earlobe. “You're being mean again baby. Real mean for somebody with a knife pressed to they throat right now.”
The sting from the blade began to heighten, building into a burn so glorious, it shot through your limbs, and you found yourself inadvertently tilting your head backward to relish in the hurt.
“I could slit your fucking throat right now and you wouldn't even be quick enough to stop me.”
Words of your own were difficult to come by, you were entirely consumed with combatting the violent throb increasing in your pants, all amidst your efforts to keep you both alive in the drifting Ferrari, but it seemed your soul was the only one inside the car yearning to live another day. “Ri–”
“Just kidding!” The dagger levitated, undoing its imprint in your flesh, and you coughed, one hand instantly flying up to your bruised throat while the other remained on the wheel, regaining full control of the vehicle.
She planted a long, sloppy kiss on your cheek before climbing over into the passenger seat, giggling all the while.
“Jesus fucking Christ Riri, what the actual fuck?!” You spared her a glance, of course she was grinning.
“Were you scared for your life, baby?” She giggled again, biting her lip as she tried reaching for your phone, but you smacked her hand away before she could get to it. “Rude!”
You sighed, “How the hell did you get in here, Riri?”
“Mmm, semantics.” She huffed, seemingly bored.
You relaxed, eyes fixed back on the road now that you were somewhat confident Riri wouldn't be slicing you open. Your muscles loosened and you fell into a leisure position, tossing an irritated scowl her way. “What are you doing in London? You should be at school. Don't you have finals and shit?”
“Aww, look at you all concerned about my studies. You're so cute, baby.” You tried your hardest not to cringe at the pet name and the heat it churned inside your abdomen. “But, obviously I had to see you. You all single now, your tour just ended, and you announced that hiatus, I didn't know when I'd get the chance again. Aren't you happy I'm here?”
“Not at all.”
She frowned, “That's not funny.”
“I wasn't tryna be fucking funny, you shouldn't be here.”
You hadn't needed to see her face to know a smirk played in her features. “You didn't think that lil restraining order was gon stretch all the way across the pond did you? They don't got jurisdiction over me out here baby. I can be as close to you as I want.”
You groaned inwardly, unaware of who you were truly annoyed with; Riri and her actions, or yourself for being so damn turned on listening to her insane logic. She was correct, because you knew that her stunt with Syla wasn't a one-off, and you'd eventually be seeing her again.
Riri was immensely smart, so it made sense that she waited until you were no longer on American soil to corner you, and making you think you'd finally escaped her by being in Europe had to certainly be part of her plan as well. Fuck, why was her conniving nature so damn sexy?
“How did you get in my car?” You asked again.
“I'm not that big, and you should know by now that I'm very…” Riri paused, deliberating on the word she wished to use. “Efficient, when it comes to getting into places I probably shouldn't be in.”
“Yeah, cause you're crazy.”
You could see Riri's body turning towards you in your peripheral, she bent her knees in the seat, eyes locked on your form as she skillfully maneuvered her knife in between her digits. “You like your tongue, baby?”
“What?”
She sneered, “Your tongue. Do you like it?”
“The fuck are–”
“Cause I like your tongue. When it's inside me, when it's rolling over my clit. Yeah, I actually kinda love your tongue, and I really, really want you to keep it.” She surged forward with a quickness, almost diving the point of her ebony dagger through your jugular. “So Ima suggest you stop fucking calling me that shit, I'd hate to have to cut it out.”
All you could do was roll your eyes. “Dramatic ass.”
“And you love it.” She plopped back into the seat with a satisfied smile, extending her legs so they now rested in your lap, to which you did not protest.
Riri giggled, reaching into the bosom of her dress to retrieve a small, clear baggie harboring those circular blue pills that she loved so much. Her wet tongue awaited the tablet's arrival, extending out of her mouth in preparation for its landing. And you turned, one hand on the wheel as you watched a gradual cerulean bleed cover her tastebuds. “Want one?”
“No.” All your attention shifted back to the road and your lack of destination. You'd left the hotel to get away from Riri, yet here you were, essentially taking a fucking joyride with her after she broke into your brand-new car.
“Ugh, lame.” She stashed the pills back inside her titties, once again reaching for your phone, and this time you didn't stop her. “Can I put my song on?”
Your brow quirked, “Your song?”
Riri nodded, “Yes, my song. The song you wrote for me!”
“You think I give enough of a fuck about your deranged ass to write a song about you?” You did, write a song about her that was, a couple in fact. All of them about your reprehensible escapades with the groupie who wouldn't leave you alone, the groupie who you couldn't leave alone.
Your entanglement with Riri had managed to bypass public perception, the only thing you executed correctly when it came to her, so her name had never been in the running when the speculations of who your last album could've been about arose. You knew she'd figure it out though, because of course she would.
She kicked your thigh, causing you to smack her ankle in retaliation. “You do. I'm your muse.”
You bellowed a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "My muse? Oh, you're very unwell, Riri." She pointed the blade your way as a warning, causing you to grin triumphantly. "And which song you think I wrote about you?”
“Don't play dumb baby, you can't pull that shit off.” Riri placed your phone back into its holder, her lips curling into a bashful smile when your voice drifted from the speakers, and her song coasted the car's air.
We done played all these games,
Only now I can't wait, I want you now, I can't wait, oh yeah.
The track she chose had indeed been one she inspired. It was also one you avoided entirely, purposefully leaving it off the set list for all of your shows. But again, here you were, subjected to listening to Riri's painfully off-key rendition of the lyrics that symbolized the relationship you two shared.
But she just wanna off my head, I just want the neck instead.
She just wanna fight in bed, I wanna get high instead, oh yeah.
“You think this is about you?” You teased, only seeking to rile her up. “This could be about any of the other girls I done fucked.”
“You know I can't leavе you alone? You know I could never tell you no? Hmm, definitely sound like this is about me. Cause I know you wasn't running back to none of them other hoes like you was running back to me, let's be for real.” She continued to sing, spreading her legs in the process.
It was muscle memory that had your hand descending to her ankle perched in your lap, making you squeeze it before you began to massage it in the way only you knew she liked. And the smile that you failed to disguise when she whimpered was one of instinct, not intention.
“How many girls have you f-fucked on tour, baby?” The question straggled out of her mouth behind a breathy moan.
You hadn't wanted to award her inquiry with any sort of answer, largely in part due to the answer being one that would please her, so you elected to lie.
“A few.” You retorted with a sanguine smirk you deemed sharper than the blade she flaunted, but when your gaze panned her way, the sight awaiting you dulled your smile into a flaccid frown.
She was bunching her dress, thumbing the fabric of her underwear once the hem circled her waist. “Mmm, that's a l-lie.”
Riri made you weak, downright helpless and impotent whenever her authentic huffs of pleasure gained volume. So it wasn't the least bit surprising when her whines from beside you nabbed your attention from the freeway, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything apart from the wet sounds emitted by her dripping center.
Your eyes drifted, and you stifled a moan of your own when you realized she'd graduated from touching herself with her fingers. Riri had the blade locked in her fist, dragging the handle up, down, and around her throbbing clit above her panties.
“Riri, what are you doing?” You bit your lip, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
She slipped her sticky panties to the side, finally bridging the gap keeping the hilt of the knife apart from her eager cunt. “If you was fucking bitches I would know. Sticking to your rule I see.” You watched the tip of the handle orbit her hole, just before it slowly sank in, getting swallowed by her grip all the way up to the bolster. “F-Fuck baby, I guess this p-pussy really changed your life, huh?”
“I don't want your fucking pussy juice all over my seat. This car is new.” Your scolding tone was feigned, only in an attempt to express a fragment of restraint, but truthfully, every ounce of it slipped swiftly away from you the second you bore witness to that molly hitting her tongue.
You weren't even sure if you were driving on the right side of the road, far too fixated on keeping your composure as your fibers mastered the art of persuasion. They insisted you pull over and allow your fingers to replace the knife, have your tongue relieve the shiny gold hook of its lewd duty of fucking Riri's cunt.
She was thrashing, pumping the back end of the blade in and out, in and out as her squishy pussy sang to you. “Am I the f-first g-girl you let r-ride in your new 'Rari, baby? Ooh, I feel so special.”
“I'm not letting you, your crazy ass broke in. And I mean it, close your damn legs.”
You did the only thing you could think of to get her to stop: you pushed the pedal to the floor, the speed sucking you into the seat as the car surged forward. But beside you, Riri remained a moaning, giggling mess. It was like your accelerated driving, and your admonishments motivated her to fuck her cunt faster as she slicked the knife, making herself wetter. “Hear h-how wet this pussy is for you b-baby? You haven't even t-touched me and I'm fucking drenched. Oh, oh! Shit!”
“Do not fucking come on my seat Riri.”
“Or what? You gonna p-punish me?” She used her free hand to rub coaxing circles into her twitching clit, biting down on her lip as the tool dove deeper into her stretched hole, prodding her sensitive spot just right. “Fuck! It f-feels so good! I'm close!"
You took your eyes off the road, watching her lids droop from the pleasure building deep within, tuning in to the cry clamoring from her tightening stomach.
“Don't.” But you knew she would.
“I can't baby. I-I… Oh fuck!” She groaned, long and breathy, her back arching inward, chest bouncing rapidly from the build-up. Riri screeched the second her orgasm knocked her down, and it was the sexiest sound you'd ever heard. Droves of bliss pillaged her frail body, and she shook violently next to you. “I'm s-sorry... I-I c-couldn't.”
“It's okay.” You were soothing her as she declined from her climax.
The handle glided out of her used pussy, dragging out strings of her oozing cum with it, and the hilt glistened brighter than it did before her hole consumed it. Your quick glances from the knife to the road, from the road to Riri’s seeping cunt weren't enough, you needed to taste her, and it was apparent that she read your mind. “Wanna taste?”
You tried for reluctance, at least your brain did, your body not so much. A steady nod was your only offer, eyes never leaving the road ahead, and you could sense Riri’s grin after receiving your answer. She was excited, pleased, surprised that you gave into her off the first ask, usually she'd have to work harder to earn your compliance. She was on her knees seconds later, left hand propping her up on the center armrest while her right carried the glimmering dagger to your mouth.
She smeared the tip across your full lips, her slickness coating them like gloss, and out came your tongue, drinking in her juices like a parched animal. As always, Riri's cum tasted fucking fantastic, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of moaning. “You like?”
You remained silent, and she smirked, “You love.” She beamed, tapping your mouth, “Open wide baby.”
She was taunting you, this you knew. You were also aware that you were on the verge of doing exactly as she requested without a lick of shame, and you glared at her, unimpressed.
“Please? For me?” She whined.
You couldn't resist her pout, you couldn't resist her, not anymore. So immediately, you promptly parted your lips, offering the stem of the dagger a seat on your watering tongue, your saliva mingling with Riri's sweet, sweet nectar.
This time you did moan, and loud too, fueling her fire just like she wanted, just like you always did. You twirled your tongue around it, sucking and licking every last drop of her creamy cum off the knife handle.
“Backseat. Now.” The only words out of your mouth when she pulled the hilt free, and she clapped, climbing over you as you smacked her ass before pulling the car over on the side of the highway.
•••
“Bend over.” You tried tearing your lips from hers as you spoke, but Riri snagged your bottom lip between her teeth, biting fiercely while her cunt brushed your lap. She kept her eyes on yours, smirking, wanting you to behold the peril swallowing her pupils when she slipped the point of her blackened blade between the buttons of your shirt. She dragged it down, the sharp knife popping each one clean off until your top flew open under her swift slicing.
Your own eyes twinkled encouragingly; you were far too into this; you always enjoyed those seldom moments when you permitted Riri's belief that she held the upper hand.
The tip of her pointed dagger grazed the valley of your unbound breasts, their exposure earning her marvel as she used the bountiful view to aid her desperate humps against your thigh. And you could hear her pussy, you could feel the sticky puddle created by streaks of her first climax seeping through her thin underwear. Her moans were so broken and docile, it almost seemed criminal to make her stop, but you needed her splayed across you.
“You gon make me say it again, mami? You know how I like you.”
With fogged-out eyes, she nodded, stealing one more kiss and shoving the knife into your palm before stretching her small body across the extended center column. Her plump ass elevated to eye level, and you sat back to enjoy the view presented to you.
Lace complimented her skin's deepness far too well. The material embraced her curves, molding to her hips like a second skin, and you nearly let guilt get the better of you for the actions that followed. Your movement was one of speedy precision as you slashed through the bottom half of Riri's dress with the blade she awarded to you, making her gasp.
“This good baby? This how you wanted me?” She backed up a little, seeking some sort of comfort and it clicked then, that this position must be an awkward one for her with the armrest slanting her, and jabbing right into her abdomen.
You bit your swollen lip, moaning from the sweet pain left behind by Riri’s incisors. “Mhmm,” The blade's handle trailed her sticky crotch, “Just like this mami.”
In seconds, you were cutting her cunt free from her messy underwear, kneading and jiggling her exposed ass cheeks in your hot hands. But your pace wasn't up to her liking, and Riri never shied away from voicing her opinion. “You moving too fucking slow. If you gon hi–”
Before her complaint could force its end out of her mouth your palm collided with the meat of her ass, hitting her with unruly force. Her body jerked on top of you, and she yelped, the fragile screech music to your ears. “What you was saying, mami?”
Riri groaned under the rush of pain, then exhaled, and you took this as your opportunity to slap her behind again.
As you ran your hand along her bare skin, you absorbed the heat drummed up from your two hits alone, chuckling. You skimmed the area with your nails, growing more excited watching her twitch. You'd almost forgotten how hopelessly responsive her body was to your touch, even under the faintest brush of it.
“You're a fucking problem.” You slammed an open palm up against her right cheek, smiling at the ripples the collision created in her skin. “Do you even know what you do to me?”
Of course she knew how her actions dictated your decisions, how her guise plagued every divot in your brain. Riri understood her power over you, and it was this very knowledge that had you spanking her again, and again, and again.
“H-Harder!”
Her ass was hot, sore, and damn near swollen. Her tears were heavy streams rolling from her eyes and into her gaping mouth, yet still, she desired more. A resilient little thing she was; you admired her moxie. With every lash, her sopping pussy called on your digits, needing them to plug the dribbling hole expanding the wet patch already existing on your thigh.
“You like that shit don't you? Being in pain?” Your handprint painted her butt cheek, pulling a guttural scream from her throat. “That scream wasn't an answer to my question mami.”
She was full-on bawling, blubbering in your lap when your fingers forced their way inside her cunt unexpectedly, and she lurched.
She sniffled. “Yes! I l-like it!”
“Then shut the fuck up and stop fucking crying.” You smacked her tired ass for the umpteenth time, sliding your fingers through her soaked folds, coating them with all the slick you could collect before ramming them back within her welcoming walls. “You asked for this shit, and you gon take it like the slut you are.”
“Y-You hit like a b-bitch.”
You spanked her once, twice, three times, four times, five; each hit reprimanded her unacceptable behavior as she sobbed with the brown seat leather aching between her shaking fingers.
She wiggled in your grip, wanting desperately to escape the hurtful blows that just kept coming, smack after smack after smack echoing throughout the car. “Not you tryna run Ri, thought I hit like a bitch. Nah, bring that ass back here.” You laughed.
“Please!” Each of her screams made you fuck her pussy faster, encouraged you to slap her ass harder just to revel in her burning skin as Riri cried herself to the edge of her second orgasm.
You pushed up against her nerves, thumb swatting brashly against her swollen clit. “You squeezing my fingers real tight mami, that must mean you finna come.”
“I'm, I'm…” Riri kicked her feet, whining around the deepness of your digits. When she glanced back at you your heart softened just a little. Her big brown eyes were blown the fuck out, leaking fat tears and mascara that seemed never-ending, and she chewed on her lip hoping the action would alleviate some of the hurt. “C-Com…”
Your thrusts slowed, and your hits morphed into a massage as you groped her cheeks tenderly. “Yeah, give it to me, come on my fingers, come all over them.”
“Ooh, baby you f-fucking me s-so good! I’m coming for you!”
She poked her ass out, twisting from side to side as she permitted spasming shocks of pleasure to surge throughout her body at a rapid pace, still backing up into your digits that had yet to depart her hole. “That's it, fuck yourself on my fingers Ri. Show me you can be a good girl, fuck yourself through it.”
It was a difficult thing you’d tasked her with, but luckily for her, Riri thrived off hardship. When the aftershocks subsided, her movements halted and she sighed, moaning low in her throat at the gentle pace in which you extracted your digits from inside her.
“Sit up and come taste it.” You commanded, rolling your eyes when she looked back at you weakly.
With your hand inching toward the hair hanging over her sweaty back, you looped the ends in your fist, yanking her body up until she shifted, then you turned her so her sore ass could plummet right onto the slim storage compartment she was just bent over. “I said sit up.”
Her naked cheeks being forced against the car’s leather prematurely earned you a painful cry. But you didn't care, the reaction only adding to your arousal. You used her parted, wincing lips as an opportunity to stuff her swollen mouth full of your cum covered fingertips, and she gagged from the intrusion before beginning a light suckle. “That's my good girl. Suck them clean for me. You like how you taste?”
“Mhmm.” She hummed around the digits you thrusted in and out of her mouth.
“I know, mami.” You moaned, feeling your clit jump in your pants. “Open your legs, lemme taste that pussy I just made come.”
Riri giggled, separating her sticky legs to grant your salivating tongue entrance. They made a loud squish when she spread them apart, and you could hardly contain your grunt when presented with her messy, bare, pussy lips; your drug of choice. Her cunt's shine danced like diamonds, entrancing you with a beaming glow that could not go ignored. “Shit…”
You reached out for the lever on the driver's side that pushed the seat forward, never once denying yourself face time with her spilling sex. And then you were dropping to your knees, licking your lips before burrowing open-mouth kisses into her sprawled, wet thigh.
Easing her into it failed to make your list of priorities, you wanted her wriggling, squirming with her legs trembling around your face as you slurped her folds. You were also on a mission to feed the starvation gnawing at your gut; it'd been too long since you last feasted on her, and you didn't plan on letting a single drop go to waste.
Your tongue nudged her pulsing clit, licking firmly before you wrapped your thirsty lips well around it, and Riri screeched. “W-Wait baby, wait… Ooh shit.”
And so it began, her pleas for a pause, for you to slow down and allow her to regain her strength. But sadly, her wants were of no importance to you. You trudged on, running your famished tongue around her sweet hole before slipping it all the way in. Riri tapped your head aggressively when you began a slow thrust through her aching walls, and you laughed when your eyes drifted up to see her scrunched face.
“Fuck! Oh.. w-wait..”
“What I'm waiting for Ri? You getting soft on me?”
It was apparent that your comment struck the nerve you intended it to, her huff of annoyance lighting a smile across your face. You refused to let up, licking and sucking the length of her leaking core as she jerked in between broken grumbles. “Ain't nobody s-soft. Eat it r-right and I won't have no c-complaints. Fuck!”
You simply shook your head before diving back into her pussy, rolling her clit in your tongue once more. She whined, the drugs in her system clearly heightening her stimulation, but she took it like a champ, moaning your name breathlessly from above you with her head thrown back.
Riri fisted your curls as you sucked her watering cunt, whimpering where she sat, hips rolling hard into your already stuffed mouth. “Yes! Yes! Just like that!”
“Fuck, I missed this pussy so much.”
“Yeah?” She huffed, tugging your hair to detach you from her center so your stares would align.
Wild eyes scanned your drenched face over, then she tilted your chin, boring straight through your soul with her hopeful gaze. “You missed me?”
You knew what she wanted, and you were fully prepared to give it to her.
“Yes.” Your answer elated her. It didn't matter that in your mind you were admitting to missing her cunt and the way it drooled cum right onto your accepting tongue, to Riri you were confessing to something far more intimate; to Riri you were confessing that you missed her.
The one word, the yes, was enough to bring her to the brink of her third orgasm. But she wouldn't win that easily. You stopped then, just as she was about to fall over the edge, and you let her saturated labia fall freely from your lips before smirking up at her through plotting pupils.
“The fuck are you doing? I was about to come!”
“Ion know, it don't seem like you want it enough.” You teased, making her whine in annoyance. “Need you to beg.”
You'd learned fairly early on that Riri Williams was not a girl easily deterred. With your refusal to allow her release, the job fell on her to complete. Carefully, Riri began to drag her puffy pussy along the lid of the storage compartment she was perched on, hissing in both pain and pleasure as she attempted to make herself come.
You watched her, forever wonder-strickenn by her fortitude. You should stop her, she’d already undergone one orgasm that didn't come from your hands or mouth, and you didn't want that happening again, but the image of her working through the pain brought on by her sore ass cheeks creating friction against the leather was a sight to behold.
“I’m so c-close! Please can I come?!” Her hands found her erect nipples, the standing nubs threatening to rip their way out of her dress. “Please, let me come!”
Her pussy sloshed against the column, her hip jolts splashing her wetness everywhere. Granting her permission would be easy, considering how badly you wanted to enclose her clit in between your lips again, have her juices course your veins like your own personal brand of ecstasy as she convulsed from the shock waves you caused to ripple throughout her body. But you weren't looking for easy, not tonight, not after her behavior.
Your fingers located her waist, holding her still and making her groan in frustration when your strength prohibited her humping. “Mm, do you deserve it?”
“Yes I fucking deserve it!” She yelled, irritated, “Let me fucking come oh my god!”
“That mouth mami. How you gon talk to me like that and think Ima let you come? Hmm?” You parted her thighs, nuzzling your face back into the sweaty space before planting a kiss on her hot skin. “Say you're sorry.”
“No!”
You'd predicted her protest, and you took it as your opening to sink your teeth into her pretty waist. You didn't stop amidst her wails, instead, you dove deeper, biting her flesh with more ferocity. “Say you're sorry Ri.”
Still, she shook her head, standing her ground.
Fuck, you loved how stubborn she was, but you'd never admit that out loud. Luck had been on her side it seemed, because she gave in merely seconds ahead of you puncturing skin, weeping through her words. “I'm s-sorry! I'm s-sorry, baby pl-ease let me come!”
Truthfully you were in awe of how long she held out, surprised by even your own restraint with her pussy lips shoved directly in your face. You were spitting on her bud soon after, suckling her bundle of nerves harshly as you hummed into her quivering sex. “Come in my mouth mami.”
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Within seconds of your go-ahead, Riri was gushing onto your face, your seats, squirting on everything in her vicinity with a scream so powerful, the hairs on your neck rose to attention.
“Shit Ri, you made a mess all over my fucking seats. I told you this car is new.”
She awarded you a weak chuckle, on the edge of collapse before you steadied her frail body. “You think I give a damn, baby? You can clean all that shit up with your mouth if you so bothered.”
Her smirk was a thing contrived of pure, unbridled deception, and she sported the smoky eyes to match. These were reasons to incite terror, but for you, they only bustled your intrigue.
•••
The blade danced beneath the strap of Riri's dress, leisurely cutting her shoulder free and you watched from in front of her as the frayed fabric fell gracefully away from her skin. “You putting a lot of power in my hands right now Ri.”
“Mhmm. What you gon do with it baby?”
You moved to the other, repeating your destructive motion before finally positioning the gold-trimmed point at her clavicle, gliding the jagged dagger down her chest. Thread after thread bursted under your descent, doing away with everything left of her torn gown, exposing more of Riri's tender flesh.
Riri watched, bewitched by the way you skillfully maneuvered the blade she'd entrusted to you. “You so fucking pretty mami.”
Words that made her brazen, words that bestowed upon you the power to control her body without the need of a weapon. But you used it still, grazing the edge up her bare stomach as she twitched beneath its scrapes. You stopped once you met her bra, slicing it clean down the middle with your lust-filled eyes glued to hers. Riri gasped, startled by your abruptness and the twinge of danger you knew she caught swimming in your irises when her boobs bounced free, and the small baggie of pills fell from its warm hiding spot.
“You sure you don't want one?” She waved it in your face, and you began to contemplate her question. Riri was no stranger to a pill or two, so her enthusiasm hadn't been a surprise. She always offered, and you always declined, more than content with the natural high you floated on from merely making her come undone for you.
Tonight though, something about the tension building in the car was about to coerce a yes right on out of you. But, something else thieved your attention just as you were about to offer her an answer.
Letters. A word. A name. Your name.
Inscribed into her flesh, squarely below her left breast sitting gorgeously in your face, was a tattoo illustrating your name. You blinked, believing you'd somehow imagined the ink and its placement. Unconsciously, you hoisted the knife up toward the tattoo, running the dagger along each and every letter in amazement.
“Do you like it, baby?” Meek words leaving generally poised lips.
Riri had marked herself in your name, in you. And you decided you did indeed like it, you loved knowing that no matter where she ventured, no matter whose fingers wandered her skin, your claim on her would still exist. Permanently. “This my surprise? Cause yeah, I do like it mami.”
You let your lips replace the blade, kissing the tattoo that exemplified your ownership of her body as she giggled from the heat your breath blew onto her.
“Not your main surprise, but I guess it's a s-surprise.”
Soon your lips were latched to her poking nipple, your tongue swirling and tugging on it. She was moaning, a sound that intensified when she felt the sharp jab of the weapon you wielded circle her other bejeweled nub. “Shit… that hurts so damn good baby. Keep it right there.”
Her whimpers traveled directly to your sopping pussy still locked away in your pants. You were swimming in your own wetness, floating atop a wave that threatened to crash down on you the longer you dragged the same knife she held to the column of your throat around her responsive tits. “Yeah? It hurts?”
“L-Love when you make me hurt baby.”
After letting go of her spit-covered nipple, you flattened the sharp tool against it, watching her hiss under the cool contact. You scuffed the steel bar poking through her pebbled nipple with the knife, humming on key with the scraping sound of metal on metal. “I can keep hurting you, or you can give me that surprise I know you want me to have so bad.”
You aligned the pretty dagger with her sweaty neck, and she grinned menacingly. Before the chance to process her guile even arose, Riri regained control of the knife, using it to assist her in widening your mouth. She wiped the back against your tongue, swiping it down the length of your wet muscle. “Your surprise is up next, in the meantime I need you to stick this tongue out for me before I cut it clean off like I promised.”
“You're cute.” You laughed, but you did as she said. Your tongue extended out, and Riri leaned forward, plopping one of her little happy pills directly in the center, waiting for you to swallow it.
“Extraordinary.” She smirked. And then her lips were on yours, kissing you roughly as she sat her naked form in your lap.
•••
Riri attacked your lips with gusto, kissing you like the air you expelled into her was the very breath she desired for survival, and every one of your pecks matched her intensity. “Baby, lemme make you feel good.”
She broke the kiss slowly, tentative in her release of your hot, wanting mouth. But you refused to let her go, holding and compressing her throat amidst her hand fumbling around on the floor. “Yeah?”
“Mhmm…” A second attempt to pull away made you curious as to what she could be searching for. Usually, her main method of action would be to eat you out until your quaking knees detained her head in their hold, and even then she'd still refuse to let up. But that didn't seem to be her intention here.
You groped her boobs, trying your hardest to pinch one of her sparkly nipples, but yet another threat was tossed your way. This time it was your fingers in jeopardy of severance, so you let her go with a deep chuckle. She leaned to the side, pulling her backpack free from under the front seat and you looked at her inquisitively.
Riri upheld her silence, unzipping the bag from her perched position in your lap.
“What–”
Your question hadn't the chance to escape your lips, because soon the lavender glint of the sizable toy Riri used in the photos dispersed across your bathroom counter reflected in your curious eyes. “Tada!”
“Riri what is that?”
“Um, the fuck does it look like?” She tossed you the harness, worming out of your lap and onto the floor in between the driver's seat and the one you sat in now. Your eyes raked the dildo, examining its shape and the intricacies put into its creation. It looked more… advanced than the ones you were used to, an observation that awakened your fascination.
Riri on the other hand, appeared beyond excited. She fumbled with your belt impatiently before deciding to hack at it with her sharp tool. She popped your button open, and mechanically, your hips levitated so she could guide your bottoms down your legs.
“You this wet and you was talm bout some you not happy to see me. Just be lying for no reason baby.” She laughed, tracing a finger over your pulsating clit and you sighed. With all the straining, and all the buildup you'd been suffering through, that lone stroke could've been enough to do you in, a fact Riri was privy to when she smiled up at you. “Strap up baby, need you inside me.”
You wasted no time assembling the strap and securing the toy in place, and with Riri’s help, the harness was adjusted to your body. She positioned herself across the center console for a second time, sticking her ass out as you kneeled behind her in the seat, admiring the display of her used hole. She backed up onto nothing, trying, and failing to get the tip inside on her own. “You're taking too long! Please, I need you!”
Fuck, you supposed by now Riri's unwavering stamina shouldn't be a thing that caused bewilderment, but it would forever be an entertaining sight. She was sexiest like this; eager; desperate for you to destroy her. “You need it so bad, don't you mami?”
“Yes! Please fuck me!”
She needed not to state her demand again, so you snaked your palm around the tip, pumping it gently before invading Riri's soaked cunt.
The instant you bottomed out, Riri trapped the strap inside her narrowing walls, restricting your movement at the same time your eyes began to roll to the back of your mind. Her wetness, her constricting tightness, the heat derived from stretching her velvety cunt wide; you could feel all of her. It was way too overwhelming, the stimulation weakening your muscles.
You hadn't even gotten a single stroke in and you were already fighting off an orgasm, gripping firmly to her hips in hopes of stopping your collapse. “W-What– Why can– Ri, I can f-feel you. Shit…”
You remained still for a few beats, wanting, needing to savor the snugness of Riri’s warmth before drilling her as she deserved. Her squeeze was intense enough to make your eyes well just a little, and you were certain whenever you did allow that pleasure rush to stifle you, the tears would be unavoidable.
“Surprise! You like it, baby? I made it special for you.”
Of course she made it. You pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, still consumed by the sensation, barely able to keep a steady rhythm as you rocked into her dribbling pussy. “Fuck Ri, this is…”
“Shit! Tell me how good my pussy feels, I'm tight, huh?” Your stamping fingers dented her skin as you began to create a rapidly growing pace of stuffing her full of the faux dick she craved so much, and your thrusts had her quaking around you. Feeling every divot in her pussy walls had only ever been a fantasy, one that existed now as your reality, because you unknowingly chose to fuck a super genius who just so happened to be a little off her rocker.
If you thought you were addicted to her cunt before, this strap just changed the game entirely.
You were fucking her with abandon once completely adjusted, snapping into her again and again with an unrelenting grip on her hips; you’d be admiring the marks you left behind later on. Each thrust sent Riri’s small body forward on the armrest, her cries meshing with your breathy moans that fogged the car windows. “Ooh mami, you so fucking tight. Your crazy ass really made a strap so I can feel this pussy, god.”
Your hips crashed into her bouncing ass cheeks, the impact forcing rushed whines out of her throat. You couldn't tell if the sounds were intended to be words, but truthfully you didn't care, far too enraptured by the feeling of fucking her obnoxiously loud cunt.
Every thrust caused her seeping pussy to squish louder, every squish making your clit thump faster as your high began its heightening.
“Your desperate ass always so damn wet for me, I bet you don't let nobody else fuck you, huh? You know I’m the only one who can treat this pussy right.”
She groaned, attempting to speak through your abusive jolts, “Don't f-flatter yourself, I let plenty of other people hit. This ain't y-your p-pussy.”
It was a trap, an obvious one designed to rile you up, but you chose to fall victim anyway, using the molly floating in your bloodstream to control the power dives you took into her tired little cunt. “Oh it ain't?”
She couldn't even speak with the tip of the strap bludgeoning her sensitive nerves, but she still shook her head defiantly. Riri’s hole gobbled up the girthy toy impressively as you leaned back to marvel at the way it disappeared, then reemerged from inside her convulsing walls.
“Why she leaking this much then? Messing up my fucking seats. So damn wet mami.” You slammed into her cervix. “You make special straps for all them other bitches? You let them slut your nasty ass out on the highway like this? Who else you let use your needy little pussy like this?”
Riri was sobbing, loud and boisterous, almost able to give your screaming fans a run for their money with her pitiful little sounds. A few cars honked on their drive past your parked vehicle, certainly aware of the goings on inside. The Ferrari rocked in tandem with your jabs into Riri’s g-spot, the back and forth motion assisting you in pushing deeper into the smaller girl's sex.
“You hear me talking to you don't you Ri?” A deliberate slap met her welted ass cheek, forcing her to scream. “Why you so quiet? This wet ass pussy louder than that fucking mouth right now. You hear that?”
You fucked her harder, grunting loudly into the air when she squeezed your shaft; she was close.
“Pl-ease!”
“This dick shutting you up or something? Pl-ease what?” You mocked, spanking her again, and rattling her entire being.
She pushed back on the unrelenting curved member digging her out, a whimpering mess when she glanced back at you, catching your eyes with her helpless ones. “Wan– Wanna c-come! M-Make this pussy come for you!”
You tsked, “Thought this wasn't my pussy though. Can't make you come if this ain't my pussy.”
Her broken voice made your cock twitch deep inside her, something you hadn't expected and couldn't control.
“M’sorry, it's yours! M'sorry, it's your pussy b-baby, pleaseee!” She cried, squirming as you rammed into her special spot.
“Fuck… What you sorry for Ri?” You tugged on her locs.
You freed one of her hips, looping your hand under her sweaty abdomen so your digits could press into her clit. God, it was too much for her, the endless pounding, the swift flicking of her bud, the jarring hair pulling. You were barely able to move inside her contracting cunt, but you weren't letting her off that easily. “Tell me what you sorry for.”
“All of it, baby all of it! Sorry for s-sending those videos to y-your girlfriend, s-sorry for breaking into your room, your car, s-sorry for hurting that girl at the bar! I'm sor–”
Your thrusts stopped, “You did what?”
“I didn't mean t-to…”
Cautiously, you pulled the strap from inside her reluctant cunt, falling back into the dampened, sticky seat in disbelief.
And Riri followed you, outwardly panicked when she dropped into your lap. She hung her head in shame as she rambled, wanting to explain herself. “She was just flirting with you and you were flirting back, and I didn't like that, cause you're mine, and–”
You thought back to the bar, to Esperanza, to the thud you heard when you were on the phone with Riri earlier, and you tilted her chin so she could look you in the eyes. “Riri… what did you do to her?”
A sound you hadn't expected, but most certainly should've anticipated rumbled out of her: a chilling chuckle. Gone was her frown, in its place stretched a smile that accentuated her unruly eyes. And of course, her seductive response to your pressing question was not an adequate answer. “Put it back in baby, or I’ll fucking bleed you dry.”
You smirked, teasing her clit with the head of the strap. “Crazy girl.”
Damn her, you shouldn't be enjoying this, but you became smitten with the idea of her hurting someone all because she wanted you to herself. It was sick, you were sick, maybe just as sick as her.
Her pussy was dripping onto your dick, coating the length of it with each grind meant to coax you back into fucking her, and it was certainly working.
Riri brought her trusty blade back up to your throat. She pressed in harder this go ‘round, threatening to drag it along your skin, and you were prepared to let her. She leaned in, her breath a warm ghost kissing you instead of her lips. “How many times do I have to tell you I really, really hate that fucking word. Stop saying it.”
“Would you prefer insane?” You clipped back, spitefully teasing as Riri quite literally held your life in her hands. You should be terrified, the bitch was deranged enough to kill you, but the feeling coursing through you was more akin to fear's distant cousin — thrill.
“I'm not crazy,” You could feel the knife's indentation, and your throat bobbed beneath it. “I'm not insane.” She was gliding the dangerous tool against your neck now, and you felt your skin tear, small streaks of warm blood rolling down your tilted neck, catching Riri's wild eyes.
“I just know what I want, and I always get it.”
You moaned, still rubbing up against her overly used clit, head spinning as you reveled in the heat of your crimson liquid staining your chest and Riri's.
Riri lowered the knife, pecking your cheek lovingly before extending her tongue to the shallow little cut she drew into your neck, running it along the length and licking the beautiful blood decorating the area. “And right now I want you to let me ride you, want you to slam into me and punish me for all the bad things I’ve done. I deserve it.”
The head of the toy was still trapped in your fist, twitching from Riri’s every word. You glided it through her crying folds, brushing her hole but not quite shoving your way inside, and she whined.
“Don't p-play. Please just f-fuck me baby.”
And that was all it took for you to slam up into her hovering hole, bullying your way inside her walls as she screamed from the intrusion. “Fuck! Just like that! Keep fucking this pussy like that! Go deep baby, make me take it!”
“This how you want it Ri? You want me to fuck this greedy pussy like this?” Your violent pumps shook her, and she slapped her open palm up against the window to keep herself upright, the knife clattering to the floor. “Use that nasty mouth and answer me when I fucking speak to you.”
But how could she?
Your hands needed something to grab onto as her addictive heat consumed every inch of your dick yet again, nearly rendering you unconscious, so naturally, they gravitated to her neck.
Your fist was strangling her throat, blocking her airflow and her ability to say words. You used her neck to pull her down onto the throbbing member ravaging her tight wetness, enjoying the melody performed by her pussy far more than any of your own.
Shit, you were going to come, and from the feel of things, you were going to unload inside her. An unfamiliar sensation began to brew inside your abdomen, a tightness you knew well, but tucked behind it was something far more rattling, and you weren't prepared for it at all.
“Ooh mami, I'm finna– I think I'm–”
She tapped your stifling fist, unable to breathe and you let her go so she could cough. “I-Inside… do it ins-side!”
And oh fuck, you felt it, the hunger that Syla had never once been able to truly feed. Riri could though, her strangling pussy walls could do that and more.
Your vision went white, and you were quite certain every star in the galaxy resided behind your welling eyelids. Ropes of your release spilled into her accepting cunt, filling her so much, everything that didn't fit leaked right back out and onto your already filthy seats.
“Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!”
“Tell me you love me.” She continued to bounce on the strap. You were so sensitive, you could barely take it, but you tunneled your fingertips into her ass cheeks anyway, aiding her as she rode you through your orgasm.
Riri leaned in, kissing your dry lips, “Say it. Tell me.”
“I love you…” You didn't mean it, not in the way she hoped you did. You never meant it when she made you say it, but it made her happy in the moment, and it made her flood your dick, so you always obliged.
With her pussy drowning in cum, hers and your own, she gingerly eased the strap from inside her, slithering onto the floor to wearily envelop your twitching dickhead in her swollen lips, but your ringtone stopped her.
“It's your girlfriend.” She chuckled jeeringly when she turned to read the name flashing your phone screen in the front.
“Let the bitch go to voicemail.” Your final words before you felt Riri swallow you whole, slobbering on the dildo as she permitted your second load to trickle down her throat.
•••
Serenity swaddled you while you lay there, helpless, following Riri's skillful performance with her mouth and jaw. You were still as the unbound night outside the steamy car windows, watching through drooping, fucked out eyes as Riri climbed into the driver's seat. She revved life back into the Ferrari's engine, stealing you, and driving you off to a destination unknown.
note: please do not ask me any questions about this fic. i won't be able to answer any of them lmaoo. and fear not, there will be a pt. 2 with full on smut. the only reason it's not here is because it was already too long. stay tuned for that! thank you to my mutual who helped with the translations! enjoy <33
translations: sthandwa - my love, mtuwam - my person, ndiyak'thembisa - i promise you
════
part one | part two
Entering Shuri’s lab felt different, like there was a cloud of something looming over and around you as you stepped off the elevator. How many times had you come down here over the years as a means of escape? Just watching her work was enough to help you unwind, usually. You had not been to her lab in months, not since the day she took the heart-shaped herb. She’d never asked you why, and it was something you found yourself appreciating.
As you walked toward her, her quiet little hums to the song playing increased in volume. It made you smile. Griot announced your arrival and she whipped around to catch your eyes, and her own grin grew.
“Hello my love.” She kissed your cheek and you sat in the seat beside her. “It has been a minute since you were last down here, what brings you by?”
Images of that night replayed in your head. It was your first time witnessing Shuri drowning in that much rage, it scared you, but you understood her emotions completely; you understood her actions. Losing your mother in such a violent way, watching her life leave her body before your very eyes was a feeling you knew all too well. Grief was no stranger to you. All consuming vengeance was no stranger to you. So it did not surprise you when she turned to you for support in her plans. Shuri wanted Namor dead, and you were eager to do absolutely anything to help her achieve that.
“I wanted to see you. It feels as though we keep missing each other.”
She shot you a look and huffed a soft chuckle, “So it seems.”
Your brows furrowed at her expression, but you chose not to speak on it. Instead, your attention shifted to what she was doing. It looked like yet another update to her Kimoyo beads, as if they needed more updates. This was not surprising behavior for your girlfriend, Shuri’s excessive desire to improve and enhance was one of the things you loved about her. This need had only increased since losing both her brother and mother.
It was what brought her comfort, and you liked that she had something to pour herself into.
You poked her cheek, wanting her to focus her attention on you, “And what are your plans after you leave the lab for the night?”
Her eyes did not move from the device before her as she spoke, “I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
An awkward silence enveloped the space you were in with her. This is how most days went with the two of you now: prolonged time apart, clipped conversations, not to mention the lack of intimacy. The energy in your relationship was off, it had been for a while. You felt it and so did she, what stung was neither of you putting in effort to fix it.
“I had a chance to speak with Riri earlier. I invited her here for a visit next month.” Shuri continued fiddling with her beads.
You sighed, knowing this would mean more time apart for the two of you. “Are we in a good enough place to be entertaining guests?” Your chest tightened a little when it dawned on you that more time away from Shuri would not bother you as it should. Indifference was a feeling you loathed, and feeling indifferent about your relationship made you ill.
She dropped her tools then, fully taking you in for the first time in far too long. Her eyes were still as striking as you remembered, and you missed being under their gaze. Her face expressed she noted the ambiguity in your question, and she was not fond of it.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Was my question not clear?” Your tone was snippy; irritated, but was that not why you said it that way? So that Shuri would pick up on it?
Her laugh was dry and low, “You have been making many things quite clear recently.”
“I suppose it is my turn to ask you what you mean by that.” But you knew exactly what she meant. You knew her pulling away stemmed from you doing the same, though you were not ready to admit that to her just yet.
The glare she shot you exposed your deepest kept secrets, pulling them all the way out. “Am I to believe you’re not aware of what I mean? Oh sthandwa, you forget I know you best.”
Her tone was deep and dark, it reminded you of the ocean and the newly revealed dangers that lurked beneath it. You could not pull your eyes away from hers, and you could feel the tears tugging on them.
“If there is something you would like to say, my Queen, by all means…”
“If there is something I would like to say? Me?”
You folded your arms across your chest. You did not come down here to pick a fight, truly. But if it was what she wanted then so be it. “Are you not the Queen?”
“Why would you suggest we aren’t in a good place? Is that how you feel about us?”
Your words came out soft and hesitant, “Is that how you think I feel?”
“When was the last time you told me how you felt about anything? I have to watch for subtle hints to gain any insight on your emotions.” Shuri dragged her hands down her face in frustration.
“I did not come here to fight with you Shuri.”
Her eyes bore holes into your face, intense as usual. But now they harbored something different and you couldn’t make it out. Though you knew she was frustrated, you could not help basking in her beauty.
“It does not need to be a fight, but we need to have a conversation. Something isn’t right.”
You bit your lip as you eyed her. Her eyes were softer now. Clearer, more readable, and you sighed. “Nothing is right.”
“I don’t understand.” She tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
You knew what you were about to say would knock the wind out of her, thinking it sure knocked the wind out of you. “Ever since the fight with Namor and the Talokanils, I realized we were just leading each other down a dangerous path. Your desire to seek vengeance for your mother was just, I know that and I will forever believe that. But I let you sink too deep into it. I could’ve stopped you, but I knew I was actively choosing not to. I knew what it would be like for you, and yet I did nothing.”
“You did not make me do anything, every action was of my own volition.”
You were crying now, feeling your chest constrict. “But I could have stopped you.”
“No. You could not.” Shuri wiped her own tears away as she stepped towards you to grab your hands.
Her fingers around yours centered you a little, but they did nothing to quell the pain in your heart; they did nothing to stop the erratic beating. “I do not think we bring out the best in one another anymore.”
“What are you saying?” Her words were unsteady as she clung to your hands. Shuri’s grip was fierce, her amplified strength adding to the pressure.
“I cannot do this, I’m sorry.” Desperation glazed her eyes over, and seeing it tugged on every muscle in your body, making them tender and sore. You were hurting her. Shuri was already hurting; grieving, and now losing you would just pile on top of that. Bile scratched the back of your throat and you swallowed it back down.
“Please, don't give up on us. It will get better, ndiyak'thembisa.”
You sniffed, scorching tears flowing heavily from your eyes like a dam, “It has been months. If this is what getting better looks like, I want no part in it.”
“We just have to try, my darling.”
“This is not working for me anymore, and you are lying to yourself if you believe it is for you. Shuri, if you can tell me it still feels the same for you, I will stay. I will try harder. Tell me that and have it be the truth, I will stop this.”
“Do not do this.”
“Something has been off with us for longer than either of us were willing to admit. I gave you time, I gave myself time. But I’d sooner realize time was not on our side.” You pulled your hands from between hers, balling them into fists. There was a beat of hesitation — a moment of reluctance as you breathed in the finality hovering above you both. You drank in her saddened features, and you took note of the acceptance there.
Shuri cleared her throat, “I suppose you’re right. We are not the same. I am not the same.”
“You need time to find yourself again Shuri, time to mourn in the way you deserve. I want the world for you, but right now… Right now I do not believe I am the one who can gift that to you, my love.” Your hand cupped her tear stained face and she gripped your wrist. She nodded and nuzzled into your touch as she wept.
You could tell she knew you were right, you’d known how she felt for a while. You pulled her in for a hug, it was tight, and it was long, and it was something each of you needed. You inhaled her scent for the last time, letting it clog all your senses. You wanted it to linger; to last.
Slowly, you let each other go, and you took a lengthy look into those eyes you loved so much.
After a beat, you glanced down at your chest where the pendant she crafted for you sat. “A symbol of my love for you.” She’d said when she clasped it around your neck. You’d never taken it off before, not once, until now. You put the necklace in her hand and closed it. Shuri said nothing, only watched you with bloodshot eyes.
“Take care of yourself, mtuwam.” You kissed her knuckles, then her cheek, and then you were out the way you came with tears clouding your vision.
•••
Waking up in your own bed, alone, was a feeling you were unfamiliar with even three and a half weeks after your break up. And it was not something you saw yourself growing fond of.
You missed having Shuri’s duvet wrapped around you, crafted from the finest threads in all of Wakanda. You longed to be awoken by her lips on your neck, your chest, your stomach. Watching her head descend and disappear under said duvet, mouth eager to perform immoral acts between your thighs as you squirmed above her.
But truthfully speaking, you had been missing that long before you ended things. You just missed her. Seeing her around the city only made your quest to move on harder.
Obviously you’d avoided her; ducking into an alley when you saw her at the market, waiting for her to leave restaurants before you entered. It was pathetic really, but you did not trust your ability to behave normally around her. You knew your strengths; your weaknesses, and the Queen of your country just so happened to be your biggest weakness.
Riri had messaged you a few days ago asking if her invitation was still open, having not heard back from Shuri. She seemed excited to return to Wakanda and you hadn’t the heart to cancel on her. Besides, you did miss her a lot and you could use a distraction from all things Shuri.
“Um, hold up. What do you mean you and Shuri broke up?” Riri had disbelief painted all over her face. She dropped her phone on your bed, making sure she heard you correctly. It was a reaction you were used to getting when telling others, reliving the entire ordeal as you watched the news wash through them. Shock, disbelief, acceptance, sympathy.
The same rollercoaster of emotions you’d experienced yourself, though the acceptance part was still running from you. Everyone you knew expected you and Shuri to last forever. You expected you and Shuri to last forever. But believing in forever was nothing other than a child’s fantasy. Nothing lasted that long. Not love, and certainly not life.
You continued swooping your edges in front of your vanity as you nodded in response. “Yes.”
“Are you okay?” Riri’s tone was genuine and you gave her a half smile in the mirror.
“It’s hard, but I am trying to be. Which is why I am excited to take you out tonight. Nightlife in the city will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before!”
She hopped off her spot on your bed and headed to the closet, “Yay!”
You decided to take Riri to all of your favorite spots. You guys ate dinner at your favorite restaurant, giving her a chance to try Wakandan cuisine, which she loved. You had ice cream for dessert, and you were now off to one of the most popular clubs in the city.
Stepping into the club sent a rush down your spine. Riri automatically dragged you to the dance floor and soon you were swinging your body to the bass of the song. The beat reverberated through you and through your bosom, sending jolts of thrill this way and that.
Your way too short dress rode up with every pop of your hip, Shuri hated the dress for that very reason. But you did not care, and you made no efforts to pull it down.
To your right, Riri was grinding on an extremely tall girl and looked to be having the time of her life. You grabbed the closest person and threw your arms around their neck and they didn't protest. Their hands snaked around your waist, pressing their front closer to yours. Their cologne was strong and oaky, and you couldn't help the feeling of wanting to bathe in it.
You threw your head back, a joyous giggle flying from within you. Moments like these were rare for you, moments where you just got to let loose, and you tried to soak them up as often as time allowed. The only thing that would make this moment even better was alcohol.
The stranger’s hands roamed your tight blue dress: sliding, slipping, squeezing. Touch starved and needy, you allowed every bit of it. Fingers danced along your butt as you pushed back against them to a new song with your eyes closed.
They leaned down to whisper in your ear then, liquor heavy on their breath, “Are you attempting to get me into trouble?”
“Depends. What sort of trouble do you usually get into?” Your voice coated in seduction. You were unaware you even still remembered how to flirt with people who weren't Shuri. It was strange, but in a good way you supposed.
“Definitely not the kind that would garner attention from the Black Panther herself.” They noted your confusion and pointed across the room.
And there she was, back leaned against the bar, glass of something brown clasped tightly in her fist. In that damned purple tracksuit she knew drove you absolutely insane. Her eyes were shielded by her shades, but you knew they were fixed on you, and on the person who clung to you. Even from this distance you could see the tight twitch in her jaw. She was visibly irritated and failed to hide it.
She barely moved, despite knowing you were watching her. If she insisted on staring, you'd give her the show she so desperately desired.
You spun to face them, grabbing their face in your palms, “Don't give her the attention she's seeking. Just dance with me.”
The two of you were back to being all over each other in no time, but even with your back turned away from her, you could still feel the sting of Shuri’s gaze stalking every move you made. She would not move from the bar because she knew you too well. She knew at some point you would need to get a drink, and she was devious enough to wait it out.
Shuri’s ability to drag situations out, prolong the inevitable, was always something you admired, but it became a bother when it interfered with you getting what you wanted. Especially in the bedroom. Riri seemed to notice Shuri’s arrival and her reaction was vastly different from your own.
“Oh my god. Shuri’s here? Do we say hi? I wanna say hi.” She waved at your ex girlfriend and Shuri lifted her glass in acknowledgement.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed her wrist, leaving the person you were dancing with behind, “We may as well get it over with now. Her highness is very fond of games, but I’m in no mood.” A bit hypocritical, you concluded, seeing as you were just rubbing your ass on someone else’s crotch while she watched. Just add it to the growing list of things you refused to care about on this night. This night was supposed to be fun and Shuri-less, and it certainly was your plan to have it remain that way.
A smirk climbed to her face as you approached the bar, but you ignored it.
“Three shots of whatever is strongest please.” The woman behind the bar nodded and got right on it. You watched out the side of your eye as Riri and Shuri caught up. Soon the two were cracking jokes and laughing. You were fighting a grin as you overheard their conversation. Because Shuri’s laugh was infectious like that. You grabbed the shots placed in front of you and headed to Riri, placing one in her hand.
“Is that other one for me, sthandwa?”
You scoffed at her. Honestly you didn’t know why her being here was annoying you this much. After downing both glasses of the potent liquid, you finally decided to speak to her, “Why are you here?”
“Am I not allowed to be here?” She studied you through her tinted glasses, eyeing you from head to toe. Your long legs were exposed and your dress stopped slightly above mid-thigh. Being under her attentive gaze again was lighting you up on the inside, and you found yourself wanting her to continue.
“And why are you wearing that?”
“I could ask you the same thing. You know how much I despise that dress.” She smirked.
“Some people like me in this dress.” You shot Shuri a winning grin before requesting another drink, something fruity this time.
Her chuckle was low and jeering, “If you are referring to that buffoon you were attempting to tease me with, I’d say I’m disappointed. Whoever that was would not know what to do with you in that thing. Let alone how to get you out of it. It is a hassle.”
Riri cleared her throat as she struggled to hop onto one of the bar stools. Her face tattled on all her inner thoughts, eyes bulging out her head at Shuri’s words. Even you were unsure of how to respond to Shuri.
“How did you know we would be here?” You sipped your drink, tilting your head to eye her. If she was going to dress like that, it was obviously apparent that you would check her out. No doubt she did it for exactly that reason. She looked sexy, but that was not abnormal. You just hadn't had the chance to see her sexiness up close in a very long while. You squeezed your legs together in protest to your body’s reaction.
Shuri pointed to your wrist where your Kimoyo beads sat. “I always know where you are, darling. Even when you are hiding from me.” It had never dawned on you that Shuri might be tracking you. Realization sunk in then. All those times you’d almost run into her she’d known you were near. Knowing she was surveilling you without your permission should make you angry; should, but it only made your innards all the more gooey. Though you were apart, she still kept you close.
You blushed at the thought and that smile you were wrestling with finally won. It was brief, and you caught yourself, and so did Shuri.
“Since when do you repeat outfits?” You deadpanned, wanting this conversation to shift immediately, before you said something you couldn’t take back.
Her little laugh was cute and you rolled your eyes, “Are my clothes a bother to you? I quite like this tracksuit.” She looked down at her attire, then back up at you. Not once did she move from her position against the bar and it bugged you.
“No. I like it.”
“You admit you like it? Riri, did you hear that, eh? I know you heard that.” Riri nodded uncomfortably from her seat, shooting a thumbs up. She was on her third drink, slurping loudly in attempts to block out your conversation with Shuri.
Her boldness was growing infuriating. “I used to like it, is what I meant.”
“You used to like a lot of things about me. Used to love many things. My mind wonders if you still do.” She stepped forward, decreasing the sizable gap between the two of you. The familiar aroma of her perfume pulled you in involuntarily. Shuri looked down at how close your bodies were. Her eyes found yours through her lenses and you scoffed at the expression on her face. She was amused, she found you amusing.
“Why are you doing this?” Your words barely a whisper.
“Because I miss you. I miss all of you.” She took off her sunglasses, letting you catch a glimpse of those gorgeous eyes you missed terribly. They twinkled, even under the low club lights, and they stole your breath away.
You gasped, “Don't.”
She continued despite your protest, “I miss seeing you everyday. I miss kissing you, touching you. I miss making you shout my–”
“Uh uh! I’m out! If y’all need me, I’ma be somewhere that isn’t… here.” Riri scurried off after downing her last shot. Leaving you alone with her Majesty. Wonderful.
The smirk that climbed onto Shuri’s face shook your core. She was too good at this, you were supposed to be moving on. Before she could get her next sentence out, the person you were dancing with appeared, wrapping you in their arms. You giggled into the hold, appreciating the distraction. But when you found Shuri’s eyes, fear for them grew inside you.
You wiggled out of their touch, trying to signal that they should leave. But it was no use. Shuri’s rage was as tangible as ever. Her grin seemed pure to any onlookers, but you knew better. It was murderous and vengeful, and bred only chaos. Shuri grabbed the taller and much larger stranger by the shoulder and they were airborne, crashing into a pool table, splitting it right down the middle.
She stooped to where they landed, “Touching her like that in my presence should mean your death. Luckily for you I am only here to make my girl happy tonight. But, if I even get the slightest inkling that you are near her again, trust I will not be this generous. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes your majesty.” She was on her feet then, turning to you. Seeing her like that was driving unspeakable thoughts straight through your mind. She asked you to dance, and you nodded. Words were not something you could muster at the moment.
She pulled you to the dance floor, positioning herself behind you. Instinctively, you reached for her hand to place them on your hips. Feeling her fingers through the thin material of your skimpy dress kickstarted the thumping in between your thighs. Swaying to the music, Shuri’s lips found your throat. Her teeth grazed your neck and you whimpered. “Would it be inappropriate to ask you how wet you are right now?”
Her question made you dizzy, inebriated you more than any drop of alcohol could. You bit your lip, dragging her hand under your dress to answer her question. Her fingers sat on the outside of your thong for a few beats before she slowly stroked you on top of the fabric. She hissed in your ear. The thumping in your panties shifted to desperate pounding. Shuri was meticulous with her strokes, teasing you all the while. The song changed and the bodies surrounding you kept on dancing, completely oblivious to what you and the Queen were up to.
Her mouth kept sucking on your neck as her fingers hovered over your core.
“Want you.” You hummed and it drove her mad. She slipped her hand under your waistband and her digits circled your hole. She spun you to face her before shoving her way inside you. Your moans were soft and fragile, completely inaudible in the booming club. But Shuri heard them, for they were meant only for her ears. She pumped you slowly at first, then her pace turned ravenous, and you were already at the edge. Having not been touched like this in a while, it did not take much for you to reach your peak. Seconds away from your orgasm, Shuri ripped both fingers from your pussy with a dark grin.
She brought them to her mouth and sucked. Your confused pout only made her grin darker, “While I do miss feeling you and tasting you, you should have thought twice about what parading that fool in front of me would mean for you. You know where to find me when you are ready to apologize.”
You watched her leave the club entirely, followed by a few members of the Dora Milaje. Anger and unfulfillment burned inside you. Damn her. And damn those wonderfully talented fingers of hers.
•••
The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. You’d stayed at the club longer after Shuri left, wanting to drink her out of your memory. Riri encouraged the behavior, but obviously all attempts failed. After getting ready for the day without waking Riri, you took your Kimoyo beads off, and you were out the door.
Stepping into the lab brought back too many painful memories, but you were here to mend all of that. You had a speech prepared, it was perfectly worded, pauses in all the right spots. But when you saw her, you froze. Your feet forgot what the act of walking was, your lips went numb, mouth dry, and every syllable in your brain jumbled.
When she spotted you, she couldn’t help the hearty laugh that came out of her. She held her stomach and doubled over.
“The last time you were down here you broke my heart. Am I to prepare for a similar interaction?” Her words jarred you as she spoke them. How did she do it? How was she able to remain so witty through all of this?
You exhaled, “Your behavior last night was unacceptable and cruel.”
“Do I need to mention your breaking my heart again?” She pressed her back against her desk and eyed you.
“This is not funny.”
“And yet I’m laughing.” Shuri crossed her arms with a grin. Why was she like this?
You moved toward her and she startled. Good. You were back in control now. “I came here for one thing and one thing only.”
You dragged your finger down her chest, stopping at the little bit of exposed skin below her crop top. Her breath hitched, it was low, but you heard it. It pleased you to be teasing her in the way she teased you last night.
“To issue that apology I requested?” She squeaked. How adorable.
“Nope.”
Her brow quirked, of course she was enjoying this still. “So what then?”
“I want my necklace back.” You exhaled, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a tad. You couldn’t let her win.
“Ah. I see. Well I’m sorry to say, that necklace belongs to my girlfriend. Last I checked, that was not you anymore.” She beamed down at you, but there was hurt simmering there in her gorgeous eyes.
You poked her belly button and she jerked, bringing forth a chuckle from you. “I would like my status switched back, your majesty. If you would so graciously allow it.” You curtseyed and dipped your head.
“I am feeling quite generous today. I might just be able to grant your request, I suppose.”
You had to conceal your squeal because you had more to say. Your blood was rushing in your veins, you could feel every drop move, whooshing past one another at lightning speed. “I know there is more to be discussed between us, but I just want to say this: I love you. Loving you is the easiest thing I have ever chosen to do. Because of course it is, you are easy to love. And I was wrong before, we do bring out the best in each other. You bring out the best in me, and I am sorry. You suggested we try before, I want that. You are all that I want.”
“Are you finished?” You nodded and wiped a lone tear from your face. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes.” You barely got the word out before Shuri was tilting your chin and pressing her lips to yours. They connected like puzzle pieces. The sensation flooding through you was the most euphoric. Only Bast knew just how much you missed her. Hunger and greed clawed at your throat as the kiss grew hotter, but it still managed to remain as tender as ever. She pulled away, eyes sparkling like the sun and lighting you all the way up.
“My necklace?” Your eyes were pleading and she ate it up.
Shuri shook her head, “I decide when I will return that. You, my darling, will just have to wait.” Her toothy smile said it all; Shuri was hellbent on torturing you. She wanted to drive you insane beyond repair. And you were going to let her.
summary: it's raining, the power's out and you're alone with your brother's best friend, the girl you've been pining after for years. there must be a way for the two of you to pass the time, right?
word count: long <3
contains: smut (18+), oral (scotty being a munch), fingering (reader receiving), strap!scotty, desperate!scotty, extremely softtop!scotty, needy!reader, bottom!reader, tribbing, lovesick!reader (like BAD), a little angsty (reader is a dramatic crybaby who's in love, leave her alone), scotty is still her cute little shy self, but because she knows reader, she's a lil more open, drunken confessions, passionate sex, biting, lots of crying, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fluff at the end (they're just soo in love)
note: back writing for the love of my life again, now y'all can stop YELLING at me! this fic kinda beat my ass a lil bit, but we did it joe! but honestly idk how the idea of scotty fucking on her best friend's sister turned into this, it was post to be funny and fluffy and cute (which it still kinda is) but THIS that i'm posting was not in anyway similar to the original plot of the movie. like i was writing and then i got done, looked back at my outline, and was like ooh baby this ain't the script. i was depressed as hell writing this too, so sowwy of it seeped through LOL! i do love this version of scotty though, she's just so ugh. anywho, hope y'all still enjoy. mwah mwahh!!
Falling for Scotty was instinctive, as effortless as an inhale — your feelings for her etched into your bones. And with those etchings traveled a wanting ache that created a home within your marrow, tunneling deep, and hollowing you out until the sensation was all you knew.
You welcomed it though, this incessant throb, for it was the only proof of your capability to love in this capacity: deeply, entirely, unequivocally. It wasn't easy, breathing without knowing her touch, but options outside of this did not exist for you, so you were forced to yearn from a distance, as you did now.
Your hurt lived at its peak at this moment, tugging on your sore heartstrings as you watched her cut your grass with a sigh brined in want. Scotty bathed beneath the drizzle of her sweat before you, dark skin glistening under each droplet while the sun accentuated her shine.
Those fingers, they belonged to a worker. Their tight squeeze on the lawn mower left you breathless as you envisioned their tips pressing deep into your throat, departing your flesh only after the creation of pretty bruises.
When the back of her hand met her damp forehead, you gasped in anticipation, a sharp gust of air nicking your throat on its way down. You waited, gnawing on your lip anxiously, gloved hands clamping down on the soapy plate in your hold — she was going to do it soon.
You were practically drooling, eyes protruding as you scanned her perspiring body hungrily. And then… there it was. Scotty's halt stopped your heart, and the plate you previously held plunged directly into a sudsy bath.
She removed her digits from the lawnmower, and her hand traveled down. Down to the hem of her soaked tank top, and she hoisted it up. Up to her face for assistance in drying her sweat beads. The material rose just enough for you to spot the edge of her equally damp sports bra clinging to her sticky skin, and she blessed your vision with those perfect flexing abs of hers.
A singular line of sweat rolled its way down the center of her toned stomach and your entranced irises stalked it, following the trickle’s descent to the waistband of her shorts until the droplet was absorbed by the material. “Fuck…”
You bit your lip with a smirk, squeezing your thighs together. Her fists clenched the handle again, and she fell back into her practiced pushing, eyebrows knitting against the slight resistance. If the window were open, her gravelly grunts would bless your eardrums with their strain, and your mind would construct the picture of her floating above you, making those same tired sounds as she rocked–
“Why do you just have the tap running?” That stupid voice. Your brother's voice. It snuck up on you, and it restarted your still heart, serving as nothing more than an aggravating prompt as to why Scotty wasn't yours.
You rolled your eyes, tightening your grip on that restraint trying desperately to escape your claws. “Maybe don't worry about what I’m doing.”
“When I pay the water bill, I make it my business to know how it's being used. Or in this case, how it's being wasted.”
Your groan was unavoidable, it always was when your brother chose to invade your bubble. Reluctantly, you peeled longing eyes away from Scotty, returning your focus to the dishes floating in the sink with a grumble. “You're so fucking lame.”
“Yeah, I'm lame.” You tossed a glance back at him, noting the way he buried his huge block head inside the fridge, and you took this as an opportunity to ogle your sweat-drenched love once more. You pushed onto your toes, hopelessly trailing Scotty's strides in the grass, clinging to the grace in which she moved as your stomach welcomed that familiar tightness.
The last dish was on the rack now, and you switched off the streams just as your brother emerged from the fridge with two chilled water bottles. He pushed past you, bumping your shoulder on purpose as he trotted to the back door, and soon the sounds of a growling mower filled the house. “Yo! Scotts, take a break, yeah?”
You watched her in the window again, her eyes finding yours through the glass. A fire flickered alive inside your body when she glanced up at you, and Scotty let a small smile crack across those lips you’d felt only in dreams. Your inhale surfaced low in volume, but its choice to harmonize with your sprinting heart’s prayer for reprieve deafened you still.
She was on the patio now, chatting mindlessly with your brother, and slowly, you allowed the prattle of her distant voice to draw you in, engraved bones piloting each of your strides to the living room as your tired heart complied.
“So, you coming by next Saturday?” You planted yourself by the couch, out of your brother’s view, but squarely in Scotty's. Bare thighs bewitched her, and automatically, those frantic eyes of hers swept the expanse of them, widening the longer she scanned them over in your shorts. Scotty let her inspecting linger, permitting her shameless gaze to climb your uncovered stomach, the poke of your boobs beneath your bralette, and finally, she let her eyes latch onto your expecting brown ones.
You blushed under her heated watch, and she did the same beneath yours. She wrestled with a demanding smirk and lost, but her attempt to conceal it remained adorable. Your Scotty was a story, seared into your skull, recitable on command, and if she knew your skill when reading her, she'd see her endeavor as what it was; one of no use.
Your brother tapped her shoulder, pulling her attention from you to him just after he peered back at you with a head shake. “Scotts, did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what?” She blinked, floundering in the shame of being caught, and you giggled from where you stood. You resided in her head, as she lived in yours.
This notion stirred a strength inside you, a sense of supremacy awakened only when you were reminded you weren't alone in your fancy, and it subsided some of that ache for a brief while.
“I said, are you coming by next Saturday? Mum’s out of town so I'm having people over, real lowkey. You gotta come mate, it's always so hard to get you out of the house.”
Thieving were your brother’s words, robbing you of Scotty's attention and you huffed in annoyance. Basking below her inspection filled your desperate body with a warmth; her stare was the kind to sizzle your skin, and you loathed the absence of the feeling.
Her head craned backward as she pushed the neck of her sweating water bottle to her awaiting lips, throat bobbing with each eager swallow of the cool liquid. You watched small streams spill from her lips, and roll down her neck, tangling with her existing speckles of perspiration. She was messy with each gulp, and a wet mouth suited her. “Uh, I’m not sure.”
Fuck, that voice again, you moaned at its vibration, and the not-so-subtle whimper perked both sets of ears on the patio. Your brother’s scrutiny heated your already burning skin, but you ignored its blaze, just as you disregarded your body’s demand that you run. You couldn't, you needed to witness the way her lips quirked ever so slightly when she heard the sound, your sound.
“Why are we even best friends, Scotts? I always gotta force you to come out.” Your brother whined, making her chuckle. God that laugh of hers; timid; deliberate, and it tugged you forward into its infectious reverb. Scotty owned you in this way, her laugh owned you, her nervous smile as you inched closer. Sore muscles propelled you toward her, and they were met with zero resistance — proximity to Scotty held all the power to dull your ache.
Fingers circled the doorknob as you hooked your chin around the open door, and you smiled up at the shy girl before you. “I’ll be here on Saturday Viv, you'll come to see me, right?”
“Uh…” Rendering her speechless, an action that bustled your pride. Her anxious fidget was one of the many things you loved about her, that, and the way she struggled pitifully when attempting to hide just how flustered your existence made her.
Your brother groaned, “You’ll be in your room. I don't want you anywhere near my friends.”
“Your friends are all a bunch of dickheads, just like you,” You smirked, and Scotty tripped into it against her will, steadying herself bashfully at the last second. “Well, except for you, Viv. You couldn't be a dickhead if you tried.”
“She's not fucking interested. And you look desperate.”
You stepped onto the patio then, smacking his head, and he winced dramatically. A sweet sound, though it wasn't comparable to the one you sought; Scotty’s laugh. When she offered it up it melted your mind; you’d be a puddle soon, legs and body dissolving before those swirling irises you loved dearly. “So glad the asshole gene ended with you.”
Scotty giggled again, waking the butterflies batting violently in your depths. “I’ll see you Saturday, Viv?”
“S-See you S-Saturday.”
•••
The ends of your wild braids veiled your bare chest, fingers dancing slowly down to where you needed them most as you tugged your nipple roughly. When those spit-soaked lips of yours separated, one name existed on your tongue, and it clamored from your pits the second shaking digits connected with your sensitive clit. “Scotty…”
A forever-clogged head generated only conjurings of her, your fantasies being the one place you were allowed to have her, and you never shied from indulging. Slow strokes teased that feeling forward, and your pedicured toes curled the higher her face in your mind's eye made you soar. Her name was enclosed in each exhale, intricately wrapped in your lusty desires with their inevitable unraveling being enough to tip you over.
“Oh, Scotty…” You let the sound of your slickness entrance you, brain traveling to her reaction if she were here to see you, feel you, taste–
A series of knocks on your bedroom door ripped you from deep within your Scotty-riddled thoughts, and you groaned, rolling over in your pillow to muffle an irritated scream. “Fuck off!”
“Scotty’s coming over to fix the drip in the bathroom sink. Let her in, and don't be a fucking weirdo, I'm going out.”
Your brother’s words possessed the strength to spring your body upright in your sheets, and you grinned, welcoming that throb you were on a mission to subdue just seconds ago, that throb that breathed and intensified from the mere mention of her name.
You tugged your T-shirt back on, slid your underwear up, and sighed at the feel of your slick gluing the thin material to your folds.
Rarely did the opportunity of being alone with Scotty arise, she was your brother’s friend, and she ventured around only to hang out with him, emphasizing your position in her life. Scotty liked you, a fact clear as day, but the restraint housed within her body remained one that forever combated your own, and it was for this reason that you forced yourself to become comfortable with the scope of separation between you both. But, she was on her way over, and it’d just be the two of you now.
Possibility floated in the atmosphere as you mulled this thought over, and your excitement constricted your chest, tightening those exhausted little heartstrings of yours.
An unsteady step abetted your climb from your bed and you exhaled once on your feet; your climax evaded your grasp, but the prospect of spending time with your forbidden love held the power to wobble you still.
The shirt draping your frame left nothing up to the imagination, exposing your curves, the nudge of your sore nipples, and your damp panty-clad cunt remained visible as you studied yourself in the mirror. Your attire screamed “She was just in the middle of getting off,” and you contemplated changing into something more… appropriate.
But the resounding clang of the doorbell blared throughout the house, jarring you, and you toppled, your half-naked body tripping over scattered shoes and dirty laundry begging to be washed on the floor. It rang again, and you stumbled back on your feet, flying out your bedroom door and down the steps at the speed of lightning. There was something to be said about the pathetic nature in which you staggered to the front door. You were a fawn, learning to stable oneself for the first time, lacking grace, lacking finesse as you launched yourself forward for the doorknob.
Did you care? Certainly not, not with Scotty awaiting your greeting on the other side of the barrier keeping you two apart.
Breathless as you were, you opened the door just as her finger poked the button again, and the pair of you giggled shyly, noting the other's blush. You could never tire of her laugh, and its coyness. It coaxed her blinding smile into the open, and once it beamed out, clouding it became a difficult task for Scotty.
“H-Hey Viv…” You huffed, scanning her appearance with a gulp.
Her blushing never faltered, mouth gaping before she decided to suck in her bottom lip at the sight of you in just a shirt. She dipped her head, sheepish in her attempt to shelter her nerves, but her sweet stutter betrayed her the moment she opened that pretty mouth, “Um, uh, h-hi. I c-came for the um, the…”
“The sink.” You finished for her, and she nodded with a small chuckle.
“Uh, yeah. The sink.” You stepped aside and Scotty trudged into the house, toolbox locked in those strong fingers as she wiped her work boots on the mat rather awkwardly. She watched you all the while, eyes trained on your thighs as you smirked up at her, absorbing the rays of her immersion. Scotty attempted subtlety when your brother was around, but she took advantage of his absence now as she ogled your tight nipples poking up in your shirt.
You ran your fingers through your braids, shaking them slightly to make your tits jump before her eyes, and when she exhaled wearily, you allowed your throat to vacuum her air, breathing in its warmth with a quiet moan.
And you smiled then, feeling that comfortable throb weaken just from the nearness of your bodies.
Scotty was right there, right in front of you, and it would be nothing to reach out and touch. God, you wanted to reach out and touch, but just as you leaned in a little, she jerked, turning frantically and heading to the stairs. “It shouldn't um, take me too long. It's just a drip r-right?”
“J-Just a drip…” Though, the leaking at your core exceeded that.
You climbed the stairs behind her, pulling on the hem of your top anxiously with each step as you followed her knowing strides to your bathroom. Scotty's shoulders flexed under her black and yellow patterned shirt, and your treacherous mind concocted images of crimson claws dragging along her back, feeling those blades tighten and loosen with steady thrusts, if you were blessed with the opportunity to lay beneath her as she had her way with you, that was.
“Can you um, I have to look under the sink. Just uh, tell me if the drip is still going when I ask, yeah?” She flicked on the light, placing her toolbox down on the mat and you nodded slowly. There laid command in her request — innocent in her mind — but far from in yours.
You hoisted yourself onto the counter, naked thighs spilling out from under your T-shirt. Its lack of length once again became her fixation, and you watched the flash of realization storm Scotty's electric eyes; she would have to kneel before you to get under the sink. You smirked, concluding this at the same time she did, and slowly, she stooped in hesitation, sinking to the floor to open the cabinet. Her eyes refused to leave your seductive ones, and a devious plan slithered its way into your mind like a serpent.
Once Scotty was on her knees, she wavered, chewing her lip nervously, still watching you, and you allowed your parting thighs to rocket her heart.
There was a squish, because you were fucking drenched, and Scotty's eyes followed the sound her ears alerted her of, landing right on your damp core. She whimpered in the back of her throat, permitting the sight to captivate her fully, and she frowned. She found your eyes again, pleading wordlessly for you to shut your legs, to allow her to do what she came to, but you were not in the business of being gracious. You wanted her too much — the beating in your chest and the beating at your core driving your choice.
“J-Just, uh, let me know about the drip.” She pointed weakly to the faucet, capturing one last glance at your red panties before vanishing under the sink.
She fumbled with the valves, “Did it stop?”
“Nope.” Your legs were swinging, blood rushing at the sight of her exposed middle, her stomach contracting as she worked.
“Now? Is it still leaking?” You glanced at the faucet, clapping your hands when you noticed the drip had disappeared, only to realize the one at your center was gaining stream.
You giggled, “Something's leaking.”
Scotty sighed, seemingly frustrated and you pouted, “But is the faucet still leaking? That's what I’m asking.”
“No.”
She muttered something, but it went unheard because her abs were out of hiding fully now, and you were a drooling mess at the image of her splayed on your bathroom floor. “How long have we known each other, Viv?”
Scotty hummed, unmoving under your cabinet. Something told you she remained under there on purpose. “All our lives.”
“And would you believe me if I said I've had a crush on you this entire time?” Your question startled you, and you blinked at your sudden spurt of confidence, gripping the countertop firmly to avoid fainting.
There was a thud, and a small groan, one that shouldn't have excited you because it was obvious the sound derived from pain, but any sort of moan evading Scotty's lips would push thrill through your body. “No.”
She stood, rubbing the side of her forehead with that same groan again, and you tilted your head. “You wouldn't believe that I have a crush on you?”
Her eyes brimmed with a speckle akin to want — hope; Scotty hoped sincerity guided your words. They dazzled, irises swimming in a chocolate sea as you studied her reluctance. Her pretty lips hung downward as you let your full ones fall also, the sight fracturing your heart just a little, her resistance in belief. “You wouldn't believe me, Viv?”
“The drip is on the hot water side. I n-need you to get down so I can take the f-faucet apart.”
Words that broke your heart entirely, because she was shaking, and she refused to answer your question. “I do, have a crush on you, Vivienne.”
A crush. An insignificant word, and a diluted confession, you thought. Describing what you felt for Scotty as a crush seemed so trivial. You loved her, you were in love with her, and you wanted her to love you. But if your admission of a crush unnerved her this much, you were terrified to find out what a declaration of love would do to the poor girl.
“Uh, c-can you let me get to the faucet? Please?”
Earnesty eluded Scotty now, the averting of your spiky stare told you that. She fought it, her desire to slip between your thighs and hold you close, but it would ultimately be a battle lost. “Scotts…”
“Please.”
You whimpered, “Scotty, look at me?”
Brown eyes met your wishing ones and she softened immediately, her sweaty forehead falling to yours as she snaked her arms around your waist. God, you could break. You did break, you broke the moment she did. “I-I… you…”
Her tears were light and steady, and they scorched, flowing and mixing with your own as you offered up a small whine. You cupped her wet face, and Scotty nuzzled her cheek into your delicate palm with a sigh, confirming the thing you always assumed — she was a beauty starved for touch. And now, amending this was to be your job as you gazed into her welling eyes.
It was so easy, to drown in every unspoken emotion filtering out the both of you through your sobs, and if she continued to peer at you through damp lashes, you just might let yourself sink.
Salty tears rushed your tastebuds, forcing you to swallow each drizzle as you searched for the right thing to say to calm your love. “Scotty…”
“Would y-you b-believe m-me if I said I had a c-crush on you, too?” She questioned with a sniffle, heated fingers gripping yours, and reluctantly, you let her peel your hands from her face. Your waist felt bare without her digits pressing into it, and your shattered heart knew not how to take the loss.
You laughed lightly, “Yeah?”
Scotty let the corner of her mouth quirk, and she took in your murky irises. “I shouldn't, but I do.”
“Would you like to kiss me, Scotty?”
She shut her eyes with a desperate groan, squeezing your digits so tight, your fingertips ran cold. “God… very much.”
You caressed her face intently, eyes boring into her untamed ones as you watched her brows knit in anticipation. And then you were pulling her in, feeling her hot mouth moving against your own. Your world stilled, and the remaining shards of your broken heart plummeted, leaving those butterflies of yours as the only things inside of you capable of sustaining life.
Your ache, your beautiful, throbbing, lifelong ache dwindled for a moment as Scotty's mouth meshed with yours. She kissed you fiercely, fingers grazing your throat, breathing existence back into your being, and it was then that you moaned for her.
Scotty lost it, your sound putting her on the prowl. Her incisors punctured your bottom lip and you hissed from the euphoric pain, wrapping your legs around her slim waist, fingers finding their way under her shirt with haste. When you grazed the dips of those abs you gawked on a daily, your moan bloomed louder, and Scotty pulled away.
“God. That s-sound, oh my god, s-so pretty. Please.”
You nodded, “Kiss me again.”
But Scotty shook her head, puzzling you, and when her teary eyes met yours, your ache returned — at full force — crushing every bone in your body. “We can't.”
“W-We just d-did.”
She kissed your hands, making you shudder, and she frowned. “Your brother…”
“Isn't here. It's just us, you and me Scotts. Want you to kiss me again, want you to touch me, please. Please, Scotty.”
Scotty pressed her back into the wall in front of you, eyes glazed over as you watched her breathing pick up. She once again battled with her want for you, and the only thing barring her triumph, was your stupid fucking brother.
You rolled your eyes, refusing to let it end like this, not after finally tasting her tongue outside of your imagination. “Scotty. Touch me.”
“Fuck… you can't say things like that,” She winced, as if your words inflicted pain. “Makes my mind go places it shouldn't.”
You raised your brow at this, “Where does your mind go when I give you permission to touch me?”
She didn't answer, so you reached out for her, spreading your legs wider the closer she inched, and she stared at your wet panties, pupils dilating as she whimpered. “I c-can't. I'm not supposed t-to. You're off limits t-to me.”
“But you want to, don't you? You wanna feel me, Scotty?”
She nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as she allowed you to press her palm flat against your heat. “Feel me, Scotty.”
You shoved your panties to the side, reveling in the effort it took to unstick the cloth from your pussy, and Scotty gasped.
A singular tear rolled down her cheek when presented with the cunt that wept for her touch, your clit calling her name with each jump. She stared into your wanting eyes, begging for permission and you nodded. Scotty pressed into your clit, whining softly along with your mewls, and you nestled your face into her chest to muffle them, entirely consumed by the ecstasy flooding your senses.
Scotty massaged nurturing circles into your bud, her wounded moans ringing in your ear while she twitched, absorbing the sound of your slick pussy. You hadn't even noticed you were crying again until you opened your mouth to moan, and warm droplets filled it.
You leaked onto the bathroom counter, wetness spilling with each of her delicate rubs. It wasn't long before you were quaking, thighs levitating in sync with your racing heart as you pushed your back into the mirror.
“You're s-so, fuck, I-I wanna… Can I put my f-fingers inside you? Wanna feel all of you.” You nodded, and Scotty wasted no time slipping two coated digits into your hole. God, it was way more than you saw yourself able to handle. The pleasure, the emotions; your body couldn't bear it.
Hard nipples rubbed against your shirt as you moaned for her, and she nodded toward the protrusion. “Touch them for me?”
This Scotty, and her commanding bass were a foreign pair to you. Though phrased as a question, her request was the furthest thing from, and you complied immediately, pulling your perky nipples above the material as your eyes fanned down to where Scotty worked you. “Fuck, Scotty, just like that…”
“Lift your shirt, I-I wanna s-see them please.”
The hem of your shirt came up as you hummed faintly, and your boobs were out, fingers latching on to tweak your tender nubs once more. The sound of her fucking your pussy with her fingers had you reeling, every tendon in your body tightening as they prepared to snap. You bucked into each of her skilled thrusts, whimper after whimper dropping from your parted lips as she stretched your tight cunt.
Scotty was inside of you, you were riding her worker digits as she grunted from how your walls drank her in. Fuck, was this real life? “You're so wet, god I can't take this.”
“Only f-for you, please, pleeease!” You craned your neck, connected your mouth with your nipple, swirling your tongue around its firmness, never once breaking eye contact with her and she shivered at your lewd act.
“You drive me crazy, I just, fuck… You're so beautiful.” Scotty confessed, flicking your clit with ferocity, and you cried out.
“I'm, I'm gonna come! Please, faster Scotty, I wanna come for you! Please!” You sprawled for her as you sobbed her name, showing off your flexibility and Scotty cursed under her breath. You were certain her knees would give out soon with their continued buckling as she worked your pussy; she looked closer to collapse than you.
Her pace increased, outstretching her free hand to grip your floating thigh, and she pressed a kiss to your ankle. “Can I touch them?”
You were so out of it, but you nodded, and Scotty’s palm trailed your lurching stomach on its way up to your sensitive tits. She cupped the right one, basking in its warmth as your messy pussy sucked in her knuckles, tips brushing your special spot.
“Fuck! Right there! Oh my god! Right fucking there!” You jerked, fisting her shirt to yank her in for a sloppy kiss as the showers of your climax rained down on you. You were denied the feeling earlier, but you chose to believe this was because fate wanted Scotty to bring about your bliss. It was intense as hell, a willful pour that turned your vision white, and your moan was long and broken, eyes spilling endlessly. Scotty kissed your tears away, pumping you slower now, the ghost of her warm breath doing what it could to soothe you.
“You're so pretty when you come.”
A tired little groan crept out of you; you were attempting to thank her, but those numbing lips of hers were more powerful than you'd realized as she used them to whisper into your charged skin. “Shh. It's okay. You're okay.”
She remained inside of you, absorbing your clench as she whined from the suction, that was until footsteps approached the door. “Scotts, you in there?”
Scotty plucked her fingers from your seeping cunt, leaving you empty as panic seized her. You couldn't move, so you chose to watch her frantic dance through slanted eyes while you heaved, orgasm sitting still on your chest, weighing you down. She was genuinely terrified: scrambling to get her tools, muttering under her breath, and you wanted to calm her, but you couldn't move.
“I'm sorry.” Scotty pecked your forehead, forbidding her lips’ linger, and then she slipped out the door before your brother got a chance to reach for the handle, abandoning your spent figure in a pool of your release on the counter.
•••
Rejection was not fatal, and chanting this motto should drill belief into your brain. Should. But reliance on these words provided no comfort, or aid. Instead, they epitomized the only sentiment your snapping mind seemed able to hold fast to: Scotty did not want you.
She left you behind on the drenched bathroom counter, discarded as a thing she played with before deciding you no longer were of use to her. Admitting her behavior had been cruel was not a thing you saw yourself able to do though, because you knew your Scotty, and within her dwelled not an ounce of cruelty. Inflicting pain, breaking your heart in the way she did that day was not, should not, have been in her nature.
But you experienced it, barely survived her transgression, so what were you supposed to believe? Certainly not the mantra about rejection’s inability to fatally scar, because here you lay, permeating in the blood drawn from the wounds of Scotty's misdeed, slipping out of your mind, and away from yourself with time.
Once, you had a whole heart, it took up space, its beating gave you life, breeding your ability to love, because you loved Scotty. But now, similarly to your excavated bones, there lived a hollowness in your chest. A hollowness operating as a depressing reminder that your motionless heart existed in tatters, occupying the deepest depths of your knotted stomach.
Maybe you were being dramatic, though you’d tried being hopeful, thinking she would come round the next day, desperate to apologize, desperate to hold you and call you hers. But Scotty never showed, and all sense of promise had departed by the end of the week, amidst the lonely nights spent crying yourself to sleep.
Something you were attempting to do now as you tangled your aching body in your many blankets. A satin pillow covered your face, damp with tears as you groaned aloud, irritated by the music and laughter floating up from downstairs.
Your stupid fucking brother and his stupid fucking friends. Being in distress the entire week helped you forget about the party he was throwing tonight, but you couldn't ignore it now, and the sound of their happiness made your eye twitch. How dare that drove of losers enjoy life, when you sat teetering on the brink of death? It wasn't fair, and you wanted to scream it in their faces, but another wave of sobs flooded your cheeks, and you hugged your teddy bear tighter, mind racing to her.
“Scotts! You made it mate! Didn't think you'd be coming round after you've been MIA all week. You alright?”
You were up on your feet at the mention of her presence, drying your tears and booking it down the stairs as you gave in to your body's coercion, not a damn given about your somber appearance.
There was a singular mission: Lay eyes on her. You loitered in the kitchen, aiming to appear inconspicuous as you scanned the group with impatient eyes. After minutes of not spotting her head floating in the sizable crowd, you poured a drink, stuffing the bottle under your hoodie once you were certain there were no witnesses. You shook your head at the sea of people, so much for “real lowkey,” you thought.
“Pretty sure um, your brother wouldn't be too happy if he knew you were stealing his booze.” Fuck… that voice, its tentative quiver, her endearing tone doing everything in its power to bring your skin to life.
You spun, meeting her meek gaze, the liquid sloshing in the red solo cup you strangled long forgotten as you chose to drink her in instead. Of course she looked good, because apparently being unkind to your body was now a thing she practiced. Fuck…“Luckily I don't give a damn about what makes him happy then huh?”
Scotty smiled, providing competition for the sun, and it was then that you felt it, the sharp shards of your broken organ piecing itself back together inside your sternum. Because as much as she hurt you, you loved her still, with all of the splinters composing your barely beating heart.
“You alright?”
You hummed, feigning a small smile of your own, “Yeah.”
She shook her head, unconvinced, and she stepped in closer, reaching out for you as you did for her that day in the bathroom. “Can we um, I want–”
Protectively, your body recoiled against your will, jarring Scotty and jarring yourself with the abrupt movement. This defense was your mind’s doing; your heart was barely whole again, and your brain chose to reject Scotty in hopes of keeping it so. “I–”
“Christ, leave Scotty alone. She's not interested in you like that, learn when to take a hint,” Your brother left no room for a response before he dragged Scotty off. “Sorry about her man, little sisters are the worst.”
Scotty huffed a dry laugh, peering back at you in the kitchen, pleading with her eyes, but it was a stare you shunned, once again feeling that rush of neglect, so you trudged up the stairs, and back to your room to wallow, and get drunk by yourself.
You were lowering the bottle from your lips when showers attacked your windows, and you spared a glance at the rain, chuckling to yourself with a sniffle. The skies were mocking your tears, mocking your sorrow as you sat alone on the floor. The blackness of the starless sky was barely visible, but the swift flare of lightning provided illumination, and you braced yourself then for the impending angry roar that often followed.
You shuddered at the sound of clapping thunder, shutting your eyes as you took another long sip from the bottle of Don Julio you had tucked between your splayed thighs.
“It's just a storm,” You recited the sentence, wanting to convince yourself it couldn't get any worse. “It's just a storm, just a storm.”
As the downpour picked up, your breathing followed suit, the tequila whirling in your veins worsening your anxiety. “It's just a storm. Not like the power–”
Before you could cough up the rest of your sentence, the lights went out, the music stopped, and you could hear the wind’s sinister snicker as you rocked from side to side. “Fucking perfect.” Now, you were awarded the pleasure of crying like a lovesick baby in total darkness.
You sighed, attempting to hone in on the mumbling voices of the assholes downstairs, and their laughs that were not deterred by the pelting showers and deafening thunder. You took another sip, gulping it down and basking in its burn. There was a rap at your door, soft, almost questioning and you turned your head. It wasn't your brother, you could still hear his obnoxious baritone wafting up through the vents from where you sat.
The sound came again, this time followed by that voice you were in love with, shy and sickeningly demure, “Um, it's, it's Scotty.”
You didn't move, unperturbed by your drunken mind’s fondness for games, but when she spoke again, your battered heart led you toward her reprise. “I'm just checking–”
You pulled the door open, and there she stood, purple flannel engulfing her slim arms, frown set, and bright eyes wishing. “I'm just checking on you. I know you don't like thunderstorms.”
Scotty chewed her lip as you blinked before her, averting your teary eyes with a hung head. She wasn't oblivious to your state, anyone with sense could detect you’d been crying, and Scotty knew you well enough to discern that it wasn't solely the quaking skies inciting your waterworks.
“You remember that?” A small, desperate whisper disguised as a question. It held no weight, no power, but you watched as your words made Scotty shake. You’d relayed your fear to her once, when you were seven and she was eight, yet it remained a planted memory for her.
She didn't offer you words, just a nod, and you let your lips curl, dipping your head to hide your blush.
“I don't l-like knowing you're sad,” You stepped aside, making space for her to enter your bedroom and she moved intuitively to the scented candles decorating your dresser, burning them to welcome light into your space. “And I'm sorry. For making you sad.”
You shut the door instinctively, trapping her, with plans of keeping her. “Won't everyone notice you're gone?”
“Told them I was gonna go check the fuse box.” She laughed to herself, placing the last candle down, turning to face you in the darkened room, and you narrowed your eyes curiously. “I don't expect you to forgive me. But–”
“You want a drink?” You already had, forgiven her that was, and there lived no shame in your choice.
Scotty nodded, watching you stoop to the floor and she sat seconds later, mirroring you as you shoved the bottle toward her.
Dim candlelight brought your room to life, their low beacon silhouetting Scotty’s tipsy face as you watched her watch you. You were sitting across from her, chin on your knee with a smile as she permitted her palm to wander your outstretched leg. Her fingers brushed your ankle, making you giggle as she continued the action.
You would be forever indebted to the tequila she downed, because without it, this boldness would not bustle within her.
“Why have you been avoiding me, Viv?” Your eyes turned desperate, their gleam burning her in the dark.
“Haven't been avoiding you.”
You shook your head, “Liar.”
Scotty let her eyelids stutter as she scanned you, reading your written pages, decoding your metaphors with ease and you stiffened beneath her analysis. Scotty was your favorite story; a tale inscribed on your mended heart, but it seemed that she too was a lover of literature, particularly when you were depicted as the protagonist. “You don't like it when you don't have my attention.”
You huffed at her revelation. Suddenly, the booze you downed was no longer happy residing inside the depths of your stomach — it wanted out.
“I-I don't like when you ignore me for five days.” You managed to counter, just as a furious clang dropped from the heavens, making you jump.
Scotty’s lips fell, but her kneading fingers remained on your jeweled ankle, smoothing up and down, her intent set on calming you. “I'm sorry. I–”
“It made me think you weren't into me in that way.”
She blew a laugh, blushing under flickering flames and she craned her head toward the wet window. You wanted to keep her there, flustered as you were. “I-I don't think there's any other way to be into you. You're all I think about.”
“Then why go ghost after what happened between us?” You sucked in your bottom lip as you awaited her response, though the answer was one you knew already.
She massaged your socked foot now, thumb rooting deep with that strength you fantasized about, and fuck if you didn't pass out then. “You know why.”
“He doesn't matter. This is about us.”
Scotty sighed, “It's no secret that I don't have many friends. Your brother is my closest and oldest, his friendship means a lot to me. Can't ruin that.”
You grinned at her with a hum, blinking back the sting in your eyes and the surge of hurt her statement triggered. It wasn't worth the risk to her; you weren't worth the risk, caring for you, indulging in you. Scotty's goal wasn't to hurt, but the way she blurred these lines so easily was daunting. “Being with me could really mess your life up, huh? Well, we can't have that.”
“T-That's n-not how I meant it.”
“How did you mean it?” You snapped back, harsher than intended, making her flinch.
Scotty settled, taking a sip from the bottle before returning all her attention to your foot. Both hands clasped it now, and the pressure they provided sent shock waves through your entire body. “I don't want to mess up my friendship with your brother. But I also know my feelings for you aren't g-going anywhere, and I can't see myself doing anything halfway. Not ever, not with you.”
You gasped when she pushed in hard on your arch, throwing your head back with a low moan. “And especially not when you make sounds like that.”
Alcohol made Scotty brave, you’d discerned, you liked brave.
“W-What are you s-saying Scotty?”
She sighed again, “I'm saying I’m conflicted. I'm saying I like you a lot. I'm saying you make me crazy, but I know your brother and I know he won't approve.”
“You're saying a lot of things.” You both laughed, and she nodded.
“Yeah.”
Heavy rain banged on the windows, pattering on the house like your pattering hearts and you scooted closer to her on the carpet, tugging your foot from her fingers as Scotty's eyes widened. “Can I say my things now?”
There was a gulp, and Scotty nodded. For a moment, all you heard was the drumming in her chest that mimicked the unsettling thunder outside, but this rumble was not one you feared, however. Instead, it existed as the only roar that could settle you.
“I like you too, Scotty,” God, how you loathed diminishing your feelings, but you hoped she sensed the weight in your confession. “I wanna be with you. Breathing hurts when you're not around. If I make you crazy, then god dammit, you make me batshit fucking insane. What I feel for you, Vivienne… these words of mine cannot do that justice.”
“There's no way you're like that because of me.”
You sat in front of her now, and her breathing grew rapid. “Let me show you,” You straddled Scotty's lap, and immediately, her hands found your hips as if they called out to her. “Let me show you what I feel for you, Scotty. I want you to feel it all.”
“I know what you're asking for. But we–”
You shut her up with a kiss, a famished one, and a moan crept out of you and down her throat. Scotty's eager lips danced with yours, and you tasted the tequila on her tongue, the agent of desire driving all of the night's confessions. Scotty pulled away with a growl, panting as she pressed her wet mouth to your throat, teeth sinking into your sweaty skin, and you saw stars. “Fuck, Scotty. Do that again.”
“We shouldn't be doing this. I don't wanna–”
We can't. We shouldn't. Words that held no meaning as you bounced without patience on her lap, the only thing on your mind being that line you were anxious to cross. “Scotty, to hell with the fucking friendship. You want me, fucking take me.” Your hoodie came off, and her eyes found your bare breasts with a sigh, erect nipples entrancing her.
“Why are you doing this to me? Fuck…”
You licked her neck, and her grunt was enough to make you come right there. “Please touch me. Anywhere. N-Need to f-feel you, please Scotty, just…”
“Baby I–” Her hot lips were on your neck again; biting and sucking, leaving you drenched, and you fought the urge to shove her hand down your biker shorts. Scotty called you baby. She whimpered it, and if you weren't so horny you’d be in tears.
“S-Scotty…” Maybe you would cry, your desire to have her ravish you pulling on those dams in your eyes.
She shook her head, firm in her protest and you climbed off her, sitting topless on the carpet as you finally let those tears roll free. “You don't w-want me.”
Silence.
“It's alright. I’ll leave.” You stood, feet on a mission to lead you straight out the door.
But then Scotty stopped you, locking your wrist in her warm palm and you halted in her touch, “T-This is your room. And you don't have a shirt on.”
A wet laugh escaped you. You’d forgotten about your hoodie, you didn't even know where it landed when you tossed it, and your readiness to book it spoke to Scotty's skewing of your mind.
She spun you, cupping your wet face in the darkness and her forehead met yours. “Please don't ever think that I don't want you. I want you so bad it brings me to tears.”
“Show me.” She nodded, lips finding your wet ones again and you felt like you were ascending. The way her mouth moved against yours woke the family of butterflies living in your core, and their fluttering pushed for a continuance.
Scotty's eyes landed on your boobs when she pulled away, and her huff of air came instantly as she nuzzled her face into your chest with a grunt. “Fuck, oh my god. They're right in my face, they're right there. Please, god please can I–”
“Scotty, you can touch me wherever you want.”
There’d still been some hesitation on her end, but sure enough, Scotty lowered her mouth to your naked chest, peppering open-mouth kisses along your blazing skin. Your moans were already on their way out of your mouth, and by the time those caring lips swirled your right nipple, your sobs were carrying.
She suckled your breast hungrily, shoving your back up against the frosty bedroom door with a desperate hum. “God, you're so pretty. So soft, I-I can't–”
Your hard nipple was locked between her teeth, and you whined, running your fingers through her hair as the tingle the action created shot straight to your damp folds. “S-Scotty, baby... N-Need more. M-More.”
“Tell me. I’ll do anything,” She rolled your puffy bud in her anxious tongue, slobbering all over your boobs with her endless sucking, and you writhed, the sensation fogging your brain. “Fuck, baby I’ll do anything you want.”
She found the second one, nipping softly, and the feeling almost sent you to the ground. “Bed, p-please.”
Scotty held your waist, guiding you swiftly to your bed with her lips still latched to your nipples, and you were a moaning mess the entire while, whimpering her name with each step.
She stumbled, ushering you to your mattress and she sat you at the edge. “Baby I want– I-I…”
You clasped her cheeks, gazing into those starry eyes and you smiled. Electricity seemed so insignificant when Scotty's bright irises emitted such power. “Talk to me, Scotty. I know it's a lot, use your words, yeah?”
She nodded, “I just, I’ve never done it before, but fuck, I need to taste you so bad it's killing me.”
“Yes! Yes, anything you need, please!” Your response was rushed, bellowing out of you like a dangerous wind of want.
Her hands were on the waistband of your shorts then, grabbing greedily at the hem in the darkness. Everything about the way she moved showed desperation, and it was the hottest thing you'd been subjected to witnessing. It took Scotty longer than necessary to get your bottoms off, and once they hit your ankles, she whimpered. “N-No panties? God, what are you doing to me?”
She nestled her face into your thigh, taking a moment to admire your shiny dripping folds in the darkness. “You're so wet already.”
“Only for you. Please…” You sprawled wider, showing off your leaking pussy to the salivating girl before you, and she allowed herself to blink for the first time in minutes. It was a brief one; Scotty refused to take her eyes off the cunt she made wet.
“Can I? Please tell me I can put my mouth on you. Need t-to hear you say it.” Hot lips sucking on your inner thighs made you shudder as you searched your brain for those words she sought off your lips. It was hard, talking this much when all you wanted was to feel her tongue steeping in your slick.
Her lips were on your waist, kissing you delicately, sucking your supple skin in attempts to coax consent out your throat, “Baby… say it. Say it, please.”
She begged so sweetly, never had you heard such a simple request coated in that much vulnerability. Your fingers found her hair, and you nodded, dragging her head to your center. “Put your fucking mouth on me, Scotty.”
That initial stroke of her tongue packed a punch that knocked you straight into your purple sheets as you released a guttural cry, feeling her hungry fingers trail your convulsing stomach. “Oh my god!”
Her sucks were masterful, the sensation of Scotty trapping your clit between her tender lips snatching the air from your lungs. You wanted to moan, wanted to cry her name as her sucks built you up, but you couldn't. All sound was trapped in your throat as you let your tears slip silently with Scotty’s tongue inside your depths.
It was all a dream, an overwhelming dream, except it wasn't. This was real life, the lapping at your dripping core was happening in real-time. And she made sure you knew that; there had been no taunting, no edging, Scotty went right for it, slurping your honey-coated folds as though it were her only purpose. “S-Scotty…”
“Is it good? Am I doing good?”
“Fuck s-so damn good. Perfect.” You pushed your hot cunt harder into her face, and Scotty breathed you in deep, neglecting oxygen as she chose to bury herself in your spilling juices. “Just like that! Ooh just like that!”
“Like this?” The languid strokes against your excited bud sent you soaring, small whines tumbling from your lips as you nodded in approval, relaxing into the pressure.
Your tears rolled down your face as you reveled in the way your pussy accepted Scotty's starved mouth, your body finally receiving the attention you knew she deserved.
“You taste so good, can't believe you're this wet for me.”
“Oh, Scotty, baby, every drop is for you. Only you make me this wet! Only you!” You were gonna come soon, that dangerous tongue of hers luring your climax from her hiding place deep within you. She crept up slowly; shy and unsure, but the second eager fingers slipped into your pulsing hole, she exposed herself, and the spasming force of pleasure she harbored.
“Fuck! Oh! Oh! Scotty, I'm coming please, don't stop! Please please please, baby, don't stop!” You squirmed as your orgasm hit, flailing desperately as you screamed Scotty's name over, and over, and over. Her free hand found your wet nipple, squeezing, tugging as she continued to lick, and suck you through the pleasure rush, never once taking her eyes off your body's reaction to her touch. “God, baby, wait, wait, I-I can't!”
She shook her head as she allowed her tongue to replace her fingers inside you, “Not done.” Her mission being to drink in every drop, every trickle of your cum, the sap from the fruit she was forbidden to have. Scotty knew it would be too much for you, but stopping herself wasn't an option, so you would just have to take it.
Your pleading clit palpated against her taste buds, shivering the longer she licked, but you would rather be rendered unconscious before you denied Scotty access to your wetness.
“M’gonna make you come again.” Her tongue swirled your entrance, pushing in and out, in and out as she swallowed everything your pussy expelled, your fractured whines only egging her on.
You nodded, eyes spinning, as you began to let yourself plummet, tangling in your sheets from the overstimulation. “Make me come again b-baby! I only w-wanna come for you, Scotty!”
“Are you mine?” Scotty's hand left your nipple, fingertips grazing your quivering abdomen on their way down to spread your pussy lips as she devoured you.
Your hips jerked. She was so desperate, her words pulling on that second release, and you braced your shaking body for impact. “Yes, I'm all yours Scotty.” You’d always been hers.
One last thrust of her tongue broke that dam holding back your raining orgasm, and you squirted in her face, groaning long and loud as your toes curled and your heels dug into her shoulder blades.
“You sound so p-pretty. So gorgeous.”
Your chest heaved, and your vision was damn near nonexistent, small flames doing what they could to anchor you. But you saw her, you saw Scotty: her pretty smile as she emerged from your deepness, the way both loads of your cum decorated her lips, and the way she licked them clean before climbing up the bed to hover above you.
“Are you okay? You aren't talking to me.” You wanted to, but the mist in your mind eliminated every word you knew. Every word except those three. They existed on your tongue, brash in their fight to escape, but you refused to be bested, even in this fragile state. “Baby? Where are you, talk to me, please. Need to know you're alright.”
“Mmm.” It was small, barely audible, and it did not suffice for Scotty.
She cupped your face, loving as ever, and those deep, lust-filled eyes bore into your drooping ones, “Hey.”
“H-Hi.” You gave her a weak smile, still floating, barely conscious and she kissed you softly.
Scotty swooped your braids out of your face when she pulled back, marveling at your blown irises under the moonlight seeping through your cracked curtains. You’d forgotten about the rain, but the scattered showers hadn't forgotten you. They demanded you shut your eyes and drift, and they somehow managed to get Scotty onboard. “I think you're done for the night, yeah?”
This rattled your heart, the idea that she would stop touching you and you shot up breathlessly with a stern head shake. “No! No, I n-need to f-feel you, wanna m-make you come t-too.”
Her blush was instant, “I don't wanna make this about me, this is about you, I just want to take care of you.”
“It’s about us, Scotty,” You pulled her in for a deep kiss, tugging at her flannel. “T-Take this o-off.”
A smile covered her lips and she pushed off you to strip. You were propped up on your elbows as you watched her, a smirk hanging on your mouth as your butterflies attacked your insides. Scotty reached for her briefs, but you stopped her, “Wait! Let me just… take you in for a minute? Just wanna s-see you.”
You’d waited your entire life to have a naked Vivienne Scott all to yourself, and you'd be damned if you wasted even a second of this glorious moment.
Scotty chuckled nervously, standing before you in her sports bra and boxers, wrestling with the desire to hug her middle and you frowned. “Scotty, do you know how fucking gorgeous you are? God, it's overwhelming.”
“Thank y-you.” She slipped her underwear down and you moaned at the sight of her pretty pussy. Dripping and glimmering, just begging to be consumed, and you licked your lips at the thought of being buried between those thighs of hers as you took her to heaven with your tongue.
“Come here.” You beckoned her forth with a lone digit, and she pulled her bra off before allowing your call to draw her in. She climbed you, settling her waist between your open legs as she peered down at your mess, then back to your eyes. “See what you do to me, Viv? Only you can m-make me come that hard.”
Your confession made her blush, and she buried her head in the crook of your neck shyly, “You can't say that, god I don't know how to take stuff like that.”
The waves from her giggle as she pressed her lips to your neck tickled you, and it made you grin. “You're so cute, but it's true.”
“Can I kiss you?” The question was her way of shifting the subject, and you laughed at her bashfulness before agreeing, pulling her lips to yours eagerly. “You feel so good under me.”
“I wanna feel you against me, Scotty.”
•••
Your right leg hung over Scotty's left, hips rolling skillfully into hers as you allowed her soft clit to knock tenderly against your own. She brushed your stomach as you rode her pussy in the dark, eyes glued to the meshing happening at your equally slippery cores. “Oh, Scotty, feels so good, fuck! God!”
A blissed-out Scotty lived only in your dreams, sweating and panting from the pleasure you caused her, moaning your name as you humped her cunt with yours until she was spilling all over you. Never had you thought a reality such as this could exist, and the sensation of finally living it had you bawling above her as she groped your bouncing boobs. “So good baby, I can't–”
She too was crying below you, overwhelmed by the pleasure created when your clits kissed. “Come for me, Scotty. Oh my god, come all over me, wanna feel all of it.”
“You're so stunning, so beautiful. My beautiful girl.” You’d been keeping count of the many times she'd called you hers all night, and the sound of those words falling from her lips coupled with your tired bud pressing into hers numbed your mind.
You gripped the back of her thigh, feeling its warmth, its dampness as you slipped your pussy against her swelling folds, ears welcoming the slick sounds of your melding cores. Each squish, each splash, pulled on Scotty's release, and it delighted you, the idea that she was in this state because of you. Scotty was going to come because of you. “Your pussy is so pretty Scotty, the prettiest. Can't believe I'm about to make her come. Please come for me!”
“Yes baby, I'm close, you're gonna make me come!” Her protruding clit knocked into your erect one and you screeched, the pads of your fingers leaving impressions on her soft skin. You felt your cum trickle from inside you, seeping onto Scotty's sex, nice and warm as it lubricated your desperate jolts. Your pussy was made to mold with hers, your releases serving as the nectar of your love, fusing you to her, thick and sticky and everlasting.
As the storm outside your windows intensified, so did the passion blooming in your bedroom; the spluttering rain was no match for the wet sounds created by the loving collision of your dripping cunts.
She was breathless, eyes rolling as she gnawed on her dry lips and you smiled, noticing a bead of sweat running down her erratic chest.
You leaned forward, grinding never faltering, and you licked it, absorbing her perspiration with your thirsty tongue. Scotty’s body convulsed at the feeling of your tastebuds grazing her abs, and you trailed a long line of spit up her middle, to the space between her boobs before pulling the left one into your mouth. “Oh yes… so good, feels amazing, keep doing that.”
“Come on my pussy Scotty, don't hold anything back. You deserve it, baby, please.” You mumbled with her hard bud trapped between your teeth.
“I'm, I’m, fuck baby w-wait– I'm coming all over you! I-I…” And her hips rolled faster, her breathing grew harsher and Scotty arched off the bed, moaning a long gurgle of your name, and it was this that exorcized the spirit of your orgasm from your own trembling being, hips sticking and stuttering as you felt the warmth of Scotty's cum pouring out of her and onto you.
She jerked underneath you, involuntarily striking your exhausted clit and the pair of you hissed from the hurt. You wanted to stay that way, keep her there, gasping for air as her head swam in her rapid release, eyes dazed and dark with her breathing inevitably mirroring your quiet huffs. Your cunts and thighs were a mess, cum coating your bodies as it drizzled down your interlock limbs. After a while it became indiscernible, whose juices belonged to who, but you didn't care, because you liked it that way, you loved it that way.
Scotty was an extension of you, your pleasure an extension of her own.
“That was amazing, baby, I-I, Th-thank you. I…”
You kissed her forehead, pulling her in as she caught her breath, and you smiled into her damp eyes. “Scotty, I need you to f-fuck me.”
“I d-don't,” You felt her tense, and her panic set in. “I’ve n-never–”
You pecked her, nibbling her bottom lip before pulling away, “S’okay. I’ll show you how I like it, just please, I need it. I need you.”
“I’ll do whatever you want.”
•••
“It's okay baby.” You were holding Scotty's face as she hovered above you, your trembling thighs widening to grant her entrance. As dark as it was, your slickness beamed brightly in the lack of light, shining only for her.
You pulled her in, ignoring her spilling tears as you planted a kiss on those delicate lips of hers. “I trust you, and I know you won't hurt me.”
Scotty nodded, gripping the head of the strap in her shaking fist as she rubbed it up against your achy clit, pulling on a hiss that prickled your eyes. “Scotty, I–”
The sensation was a lot; too much, and the building friction of the sensual assault on your bud had you weeping once more. “I know baby, I know. I just… Please let me rub it here for a little while,” Scotty used her hips now, avoiding your awaiting hole as she pushed the slicked toy through your tired folds, your clit throbbing beneath each glide. “You're so wet, I just wanna hear it, okay? Just wanna rub it against you.”
You could come from this: the pain, the pleasure, every emotion Scotty unlocked inside of you. But you were fighting it, battling that creeping crack deep down, because you wanted your last orgasm to consume you with the love of your life submerged in your canal.
She kissed you, guzzling your warm tears sitting on your puffy lips, “Please tell me you're wet for me. Tell me I can put it in, please?”
“S-So wet for you Scotty, please put it in, I need you, baby, need you so bad it fucking hurts.”
She wasted no time sinking into your searing heat after that, making you sob upon delivery, and you pulled her closer. Your nipples grazed hers with each of her ruts as your sopping cunt sucked her in, and she moaned in unison with you at the sudden contact. Her open mouth was on your wet cheek, pecking you as she filled you, stuffing your hollowed bones with a syrupy salve contrived of pure ecstasy. Her long, laggard strokes did away with that gorgeous ache you'd grown to love.
You just felt her — Scotty’s essence existed everywhere.
She was deep, bottoming out with the sexiest grunt you'd ever heard. The feeling of being stretched out around her as she worked your hole warped your mind, and you lost your grip on reality the higher she took you, something she sensed as she studied your contorting features. “Baby, b-baby, stay with m-me, eyes on me, okay?”
“I know. I'm g-good, keep doing it like that. Fuck me d-deeper. Need to feel all of you.”
Scotty swatted your watering orbs, rocking into your g-spot with all the care in the world, eyes swallowed black like the night sky as she spread your worn-out cunt with precision. “You're so precious, I-I don't want to ruin you.”
“Ruin me Scotty. Fucking ruin me.” Wet eyes clouded your vision, blurring the distant flicker of your candle’s waning flames as the sound of Scotty fucking you filled the room. Though gentle, her drives held power, sending tsunami-level waves of exhilaration through your cells. You could feel your pussy blooming wider as she drilled you into your creaking bed, and you inhaled the prominent aroma of Mulberry and Vanilla dancing in your room, allowing it to lull you.
Staccato thrusts tore you apart with each loving jolt, electrifying you as you wailed in her arms. Scotty was breaking you just so she could mend you. “You're doing amazing, s-so perfect. Don't cry baby, I'm taking care of you. Does that feel good?”
"G-Good."
She nestled into your bruised neck, inhaling you deep with grunts that made you quake. “Thank you for letting me take care of you, s’all I’ve ever w-wanted, baby.”
“I-I…” Your throat burned from all the crying, and you gripped tightly to her rolling shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer to your barren skin. “I love you, Scotty.”
Three little words. You’d been battling them all night, warring with them all your life, and tonight they emerged victorious. Their might surpassed your own in this state, frail and fucked out, floating aimlessly on your many billows of bliss. So you spit them out, and without hesitation, Scotty drank them, allowing her slow thrusts to gain speed as though your declaration were fueling her.
“I love you too. I love y-you s’much. You mean everything to me, you're m-mine.”
“I’m y-yours, Scotty. Only yours.” She bit your neck, hard, pulling on your hot wells, and you watched them drizzle down her bare back, mirroring the raindrops racing one another down your fogged windows.
“Please come for me. Please, please, need you to come with me inside you baby, you're so beautiful when you come, sound s-so pretty.”
You nodded weakly, already feeling that tensing band deep within. It wrapped around itself, stiffening — toughening into a coil whose demise was inevitable with the way Scotty fucked into the creamy chasm of your cunt. And you felt your walls narrow, clenching the strap and holding it in place the second she pressed the tip into your overstimulated nerves. You came then, eyes rolling like the thunder stifling your scream as your red nails punctured Scotty's flesh.
Her hips stammered when she knocked them into yours, and she used your throat as a silencer, grunting lowly into your sticky skin, weeping as you were from her own approaching climax. “I'm, I'm, b-baby I’m coming. Please, let m-me, I wan-wanna, Can I…”
You huffed, exhaustion treading through your body as you pursed your lips to kiss her head, “Let it out, Scotty. Give it to me, yeah? I love you so much, you make me feel so fucking good baby.”
Your name leapt from her stomach with one last push, and she whimpered softly into your ear, panting like a dog. “I love y-you.”
You were barely awake when Scotty eased her way out of your used walls, and you squirmed, feeling your hole clench around the absence of her stretch. You cried still, body vanquished by the thrill of the entire ordeal. Her lips pillowed your wet face tenderly before she rolled beside you, the pair of you exhaling on the same breath as the rain comforted your weariness.
Scotty said nothing, and her prolonged silence forced your mind to wander. Had she regretted the sex? Had she regretted you? Did she truly love you as you loved her? You wept heavier now, sniffling in the darkness, “I-I guess… I guess y-you should get going now. Don't w-wanna get cau–”
“Did y-you mean it?”
Your turn in the sheets was immediate, words steeped in admiration as you spoke, “I meant all of it, Viv.”
“Me too.”
You exhaled, mustering the courage to request to hear it again. “Can… I wanna hear you say it again. Please? Tell me again.”
Scotty did away with that practiced stutter, welcoming confidence into her confession. “I love you.”
“And I love you. Deeply, entirely, and unequivocally, Vivienne Scott.”
She sighed, and you detected her wavering assurance in the brush of her fingers when she stroked your side, “I-I w-want to be yours.”
You kissed her, sipping the fervor raining from her swollen lips as you permitted her respire to enter your being, melting the ache you once thought to be eternal. “You're mine.”
•••
Getting Scotty up and dressed proved to be exceedingly difficult. Rain still poured, the lights were still out and you were certain her absence would be questioned eventually. So she needed to be gone. “Baby, please, I don't wanna leave you. Just one more kiss? Last one please, please!”
Fuck… She deserved it. You wanted her to have it, but there was no time. You knew your brother well, and you had no plans of dealing with his scolding tonight if caught, not after the experience you and his best friend just shared. You wanted to allow yourself time to float on your high. But Scotty wanted one more kiss, and her lips were morphine. “Okay. One, Scotts, just one.”
“One.”
You pecked her, guiding her to the door and she whined into your throat, forcing you to swallow the heat it pushed out, and the gust shocked every last one of your nerves. You reached for the knob, lips still locked, and you pulled the door open. “You have to go.”
She giggled, stealing another peck before stepping into the hallway, flannel bunched in her fists, belt still unbuckled.
“Bye.” She said it, but her feet had yet to move, and all you could do was smile.
“I love you so much.” You pulled her in again, kissing her deeper, fuller, and it was you who moaned aloud this time as you fumbled with her belt buckle, wanting to clasp it for her, but fighting the urge of falling to your knees.
Her lips hovered over yours, sweeping, ghosting, and heating your feverish skin, “I lov–”
“Scotts, you still up here? I don't think you're gonna get that fuse fixed mate, the whole–” Your brother looked up from his phone, shining his flashlight down the dark hallway, and directly into your faces. “Yo, man what the fuck?!”
summary: being broken up seems to hold different meanings to both you and shuri. you're trying to move on, you're dating, which she allows, until she decides she's had enough of seeing you with someone who isn't her.
note: THIS! is my apology for the pain i put y'all through. i hope it can suffice. just walk with me a little bit here with this one okay? there's plot but the plot is just smut fr. i will not disclose the songs i was listening to when i came up with this cause y'all gon look at me fucking crazy, but some hints are sprinkled throughout idk. i once saw someone on twitter describe one of my fics by saying "when you think they're done fucking, they're not" it made me laugh and i think it holds relevance here. shouts out to oomf for translations! but anywho, as always, enjoy mwah, mwah!
↬ aftermaths {aftercare scene}
She smirked, pushing your exposed back up against the cool steel of your apartment door, and you shivered, permitting your exhale to emerge as a low taunting moan. This, she bit her lip at, shutting her eyes tight as the desperation coating your whimper washed over her. “That’s a pretty ass sound.”
Brown eyes twinkled as they bore into her, your own plump bottom lip finding its way between your teeth and you gave her a shy grin. “You think so?”
“Mmm,” Her eyes remained shut as you watched her, your restraint slipping just a bit when that strong arm of hers reached above your head to grip firmly to the door frame. “What if I wanna hear it again?”
Fingers flexed overhead as she tightened her grasp, and it was there that you allowed your eyes to remain, admiring slender digits and the potential they held as you considered her question. Inviting her in had crossed your mind, on many occasions actually. You liked her, a lot, and you liked the feelings that came alive inside you when she spoke and when she peered at you as she did now.
“You gon work for it?” It was meant to be a response carried by confidence, but the shake in tone gave your nerves away, and she huffed a laugh. The taller woman knew you wanted her; you didn’t hide it very well. Truthfully, you weren't trying to. You pondered it, her request to hear you moan for her again. You could allow it, maybe. Riri was probably at her garage and you’d have the place to yourselves; she'd have you to herself. Fuck, you wanted that.
The blow of her breath and the ghost of her lips could just be enough to coerce your decision. “This is me working for it.” And when she kissed you, long and rough, you produced that sound she chased again. It was louder now; stronger, firmer, and you’d made up your mind.
“You wanna com–” The door existed as the only thing keeping you upright, so ultimately, when the press of it was ripped away from your spine, you stumbled backward, and your body cascaded into a pair of muscular arms whose hold you knew all too well.
Shuri gripped you, letting her lanky fingers graze your sides long enough to quench her thirst before reluctantly steadying you on your feet. “Shit. Sorry.” Eyes stalked your date, never moving from her post behind you. In fact, you were certain the Princess eased in closer, squeezing her toned front tightly against your back with a low grunt. There was nary a bone in her body that’d been apologetic.
Shuri's temperature remained searing, beaming off her person in familiar waves, but unlike prior times, it offered you no comfort. Now, her warmth worked overtime to make you feel sticky and stifled, and you struggled to keep your annoyance in check, though it was apparent she comprehended your mood as she peered down at you now.
“Naci, I’ll call you tomorrow, aight?”
She narrowed her eyes at Shuri who still loomed behind you; possessive and daring, clearly sensing some sort of tension between you two, and she did the little she could to assert a form of dominance. Though there was no use in doing so, there was no competition to be had when Shuri already claimed the title of winner. And you could tell she knew this, her daunting smirk giving it away as she stepped away from your rear to clutch the open door.
“Bye Natty.” And then she slammed it, walking past you to plop back onto the indented couch. She'd been sitting there the entire time, great.
“The fuck is your damn problem, bro?”
When she spoke, her attention never made its way to you, and you rolled your eyes at your failure to rattle her with words. “That mouth of yours has gotten a little too bold. I think that's my problem.”
“Shuri, the fuck are you still doing here?” Your arms were crossed now, feet still planted at the door as you eyed her, disregarding her words entirely. She was supposed to be gone, returned to Wakanda, and tucked safely away behind their pretty little borders. Yet here she sat, on your couch, drinking your liquor.
The rim of the glass collided with her lips, and her throat bounced as she knocked the last of her drink back, never once reacting to the sting of the pungent liquid. “I see a little time apart has you thinking you can just speak to me however you want.”
“Time apar…” Was this bitch crazy? You hadn't missed this, her delusions, the practiced way she chose to ignore certain details when it came to the two of you. “Shuri, we broke up. Three months ago. Get the fuck over it. Now, what are you still doing here?”
Shuri passed a brief glance your way, and her conniving grin made your body sizzle in sheer irritation as you shifted your weight from your right leg to your left. God you fucking hated her, and you needed her out of your space. The claim was that she'd come to visit her best friend, but rarely had she spent time with Riri over the course of her three-week stay. Instead, she spent her days heckling you and scaring off your dates.
So when Riri informed you she would indeed be leaving today, you jumped for joy, excited to finally be rid of her annoying ass. But, evidently, your rejoice was an act done in vain, you’d found.
She quirked her brow, “Can I not be here?”
“No. Like you gotta get the fuck, for real.”
Shuri stood, pulling up her sweatpants before reaching for her empty glass sitting on the coffee table. Her legs moved, taking her toward the kitchen and you flinched a little when a suffocating gust of her spicy cologne found its way inside your system. Like Shuri’s everlasting presence, the strong scent instantly made your head throb, and you sighed, watching her maneuver through your cabinets.
The large bottle of Cognac was clutched in her fist, because of course audacity drove her to reach for the most expensive one, and she grabbed a second glass, drizzling the dark liquid into the one presumably for you first, before pouring her own. Did she think you were exes who could casually have a drink with each other? The thought made you roll your eyes, but when she slid the glass across the smooth countertop, you gravitated toward it, gripping it and downing it almost immediately with a harsh cough.
You didn't miss her soft chuckle and head shake as she watched you follow her wordless instruction, and it was then that you cursed your brain’s and body's practiced synchronism when obeying her. It was an action you still struggled with, because Shuri had embedded her dislike for defiance so deep into you, you sometimes forgot you don't have to follow her orders anymore.
“You want me gone so you can finally bring your little dates inside instead of settling for half-assed kisses at the door like school children?”
Your eyes rolled again. Her insolence was truly a thing admired, and it had you pondering how you put up with it for as long as you did before finally having enough. “Shuri, don't fucking piss me off tonight, okay? I'm not in the mood for your bullshit.”
“Jonga umlomo wakho.” (watch your mouth)
The spit of her native tongue shook you slightly, but a lengthy exhale centered you; you weren't planning to let her get under your skin any more than she already had. She pressed her back against the island, sipping sweetly on her drink as she ogled your skin. Shuri's low eyes fanned the expanse of your large thighs barely covered by your pleated mini skirt, the cup of your ass very visible beneath the skimpy material. She stared at your cleavage unabashedly too, and licked her lips.
The sight of her shamelessly checking you out made you audibly gag, and she smirked at the sound before taking another swig from her glass.
You hadn't put your jacket down, nor had you removed the sparkly purse dangling from your shoulder; she hadn't given you a chance to.
“Why are you still in my damn house?” You asked again, and she grinned, pushing off the counter and moving closer to where you awkwardly stood.
You dipped your head as she approached you, averting her eyes and their easy way of reading you, but soft fingers lifting your chin placed your gaze in the direct line of hers. “You want me gone that bad, thando-iwam?” (my love)
Your hand wrapped around her wrist almost immediately after her question, snatching it and shoving her touch away scornfully. “Yes.”
Her surprise at your reaction shone through her wavering smirk. There was self-assurance in that one word, and you could tell it wasn't a thing she'd anticipated by her stuttering blink. She was cracking, good. She needed to know you didn't belong to her anymore and her hands could not graze your skin as they once did, though it’d be a lie to deny her fingers on your face didn't push a jolt of something through you.
Of course, you ignored it, because Shuri was an ass, and she’d never get you to fold, not like she used to.
When she moved in closer to inhale your perfume, you didn't react, and she hated that too. There’d been hope, you noticed, hope that your reluctance was feigned. And your own smirk grew then, because your disdain for the Princess was indeed authentic.
She bobbed her head, “You know I pay rent here. My name is on the lease, so technically I can be here. For as long as I would like.”
“Shu–”
She stuck a finger out, quieting you, and like a trained pet, you adhered. “Technically I pay your rent here. So I think I’m the one with the authority to kick you out. Right?”
“Nigga nobody asking you to do that shit. I think we both know I can afford the lifestyle I choose to live, but if you wanna keep throwing two lil stacks my way every month, fuck I’m post to do? Say no?”
She hummed, seemingly pleased by the outburst she pulled out of you, and you groaned. Paying your half of the rent in your shared apartment with Riri had been a no-brainer for Shuri at the beginning of your relationship; the act was her own idea, and of course, you agreed because why would you not? The continued peddling of funds after your breakup was also her doing. You’d fully expected her to stop supporting you in retaliation, given it was you who ended things, but money kept coming, and you kept accepting.
Shuri tutted, “Three months and you've already forgotten how to speak to me. I do not like this, sthandwa.”
“Bruh, I'm off this. You so fucking irritating. Please do not be here when I wake up in the morning Shuri, or I swear to fucking god.” You watched her blink slowly and she bit her lip, no doubt mesmerized by the sway of your hips as you sauntered away from her.
Fuck her, like truly, because where did she get off behaving as she did? Shuri had no conception of boundaries; she refused to respect the ones you’d put up to cage yourself away from her. In her demented little mind, you were still hers, and she didn't care if you refuted her claim on you. Thinking about it made your stomach bubble, so you decided you wouldn't.
You: Hey, I’m so sorry about earlier. Lemme make it up to you? Are you free Tomorrow?
Naci: It’s all good. What you tryna be on?
Her speedy reply coaxed a squeal out of you, and the lack of admonishment behind her message made you blush. Biting your lip, you reminisced on the feel of her mouth on yours, her tongue in your throat, and her request to hear you moan for her again. The throbbing at your core roared awake your need to do only one thing as you imagined her hands all over you, and you began to strip.
With your naked body sprawled on top of your thick comforter, you reached for your dildo sitting pretty on your nightstand, lathering it with lube before allowing it to hover impatiently at your leaking entrance.
Desperate hands urged you to dive straight in, spread your pussy wide around the toy, but you decided teasing yourself would be best. You chose to make yourself work for it.
“Ooh fuuuuck…” You blew out a soft exhale as the dildo slithered its way into your soaked hole, slamming your eyes shut to bask in the pressure-filled stretch. Once you discovered the rhythm you liked, your thrusts gained speed, and soon you were spitting out moan after moan. Your sounds rose in octave as you fucked yourself hard with the thick slab of silicone and your breath hitched, and you pinched hard on your nipple for added pleasure. “Shit! Shit!”
Fuck, you were dripping, the wettest you’d been in a long time. You rammed into your g-spot again and again, thoughts running to Naci. You wished it was her working your wet pussy this hard, yearned to feel her strap gliding in and out of your cunt as you screamed her name until she made you come hard around her. That familiar band inside your depths began its inevitable tightening, and you continued to drill yourself, granting your hand permission to find your neglected clit. “Fuck! Oh my god!”
You splashed around in your wetness, serenading the Princess lounging in your living room with a song of obscenities. “Oh, Naci!” You were certain she was listening, she had no choice in the matter, undoubtedly honing in on just how drenched you got when pleasing yourself to the thought of a woman that wasn't her.
“Ohh fuck me Naci!” Legs spread wider, you fucked yourself deeper, and that sweet nudge against your special spot tugged roughly on your release.
You’d be coming soon, floating sweetly on a cloud of bliss. But you wanted to prolong your orgasm, just so you could keep your moans at an increased volume, just so you could force your ex-girlfriend to sit in the sound. “Naci!”
Her name tumbled from parted lips and your orgasm shocked your entire system, causing you to shudder and lose your grip on the dildo still wedged inside you. The sensation was enough to put you to sleep, but you fought it, trying to catch your breath as you stumbled to the shower.
You were wrapped in your towel when you opened the door to skip across the hall, and that's when you saw her. Back flush against the wall, jaw set and twitching, as she shifted dark eyes to you; Shuri was angry, and the image of her stewing in her rage pleased you deeply. You shot her a wink before stepping into the bathroom and letting the door click shut, still reeling from the combined high of your climax and the sight of a pissed-off panther.
•••
Soft lips on your neck made you giggle as you leaned into the tingle they brought about, wanting desperately for the fingers indenting your uncovered waist to travel farther south. “My lips feel good right there shawty?”
“Mhmm.” Naci’s teasing digits looped under the band of your damp panties, causing you to whimper. You wanted more, and your little rocking rhythm on her thigh told her as much. She refused to grant your wish though, yanking her fingers free from underneath the cloth clinging to your cunt and you whined. “S-Stop playing with me.”
She chuckled at your cute little stutter, and you pouted. “You sure ole girl not here? Cause I ain't tryna get my ass handed to me by no Black Panther, my face too pretty for that.”
“You are kinda pretty,” You slung your arms around her neck, leaning back a little to admire her cute face. The Sun shining through the large windows in your living room reflected on her septum ring, and you let your palms caress the orange velvet durag tied snugly on her head. “And no, her ass is not here. But even if she was I wouldn't care. Ion give a damn about Shuri's delusional ass, I want you.”
Naci laughed again, sliding her fingers up and down the base of your spine before cupping your ass in both palms. “See you can say that, cause she not gon do nothing to you. But ion know, I'm a lil scared of her.”
You groaned at this, not wanting to accept that Shuri indeed held the power to prevent you from getting fucked as you deserved. It’d been too long since you were laid up under somebody's daughter, and having to make yourself come only served to bore you. “Don't worry about her, she can't do shit to you. Worry about this pussy instead, and how wet it is for you.”
Fingers laced around her wrist, bristling under the icy brush of her Rolex as you dragged her hand to your needy center. “You feel that baby,” Her own fingers skimmed the sizable puddle seeping through your underwear, making you hiss when she pressed into your achy clit above the material. “Sooo fucking wet for you.”
“So fucking wet for me, huh?” You nodded and she returned her lips to your throat, never losing her pace of stroking you.
Small whimpers climbed out of you as she continued, and Naci encouraged your rolling hips. You were dampening her jeans, but that was an afterthought now. “Fuck, shawty you so damn sexy, this pussy feels so good.”
“Y-Yeah? You gon fuck it then baby?” You were practically riding her fingers and she had yet to slip one inside you. Desperation drove your humps, and it proved to turn her on; Naci leaned back against your couch, watching you seductively as she pushed into your clit like a button, all whilst leaving the work up to you and your incessant grinding. She wanted you to get off on the mere idea of potentially getting what you wanted, her smirk gave that away, and the act brought familiarity with it.
Shuri did that. A lot. She would deviously force you to ride her thigh with zero assistance on her end, hovering above you as she watched you writhe in her sheets solely from gentle pecks along your neck.
And you would come. Always. Because Shuri's presence was arousing like that. Well, it used to be arousing like that.
“I might be open to it. Right here on the couch though?” She questioned, seemingly amused.
You nodded, “Right fucking here on the couch baby. Right here.”
Naci slid your panties to the side, gasping when she glanced down at your shiny folds, then her eyes flicked to yours with a grin, “I got you like that?”
“Mhmm!” She sucked her sticky finger before finally connecting her bare skin with your own and she circled your hole, sinking a single digit inside. “Oh fuck, just like that baby. Add another one!”
Her smirk was immediate, and she did as you asked, sliding a second finger in, a third sneaking in soon after and you whined from her shaking pumps. “Ooh shit! Fuck me, baby, don't stop!”
“Don't stop?” Her rhythm differed from your preferred, but it did its part in winding you up all the same, and when her thumb flicked your clit, you lost it.
“Fuck! Keep going! Deeper, baby, deeper!” And she obliged, slithering her slick-coated digits deeper into your soaked pussy, looking down at her handy work as her fingers fucked you. She was moaning along with you as you rocked into her press, hips stuttering, causing you to throw your head back. The couch cushions crumbled inside your fists as you used them to anchor yourself, climax swimming swiftly to you. “Just like that ooh! Fuck baby, you got this pussy so damn wet. You finna make me–”
“What the fuck are you doing?” You were so caught up in your bliss and the promise of an orgasm, that the sound of an opening door passed you idly by. But the feel of your apartment walls quaking under the slam of it pulled you out of your euphoria instantly. You listened to the rattling in your cabinets, glasses clinking under the sudden clap of thunder, and you watched your picture frames tilt on their hooks. All this occurred with three skilled digits still shoved deep inside you, but they'd lost their rhythm now; they were unmoving.
Your head was still craned backward when your eyes connected with Shuri’s erratic ones. She was seething in the doorway, bubbling in her rage next to a rather entertained-looking Riri. You smirked, still riding Naci’s stiff digits as you watched her fume. Shuri clenched and unclenched her fists; there would be a hole in the wall soon if you didn't stop, but you didn't want to.
Beneath you, Naci went limp, eyeballs widened as she gaped anxiously at your ex-girlfriend who looked seconds away from blowing every gasket in her lean body. There was no exchange of words, only movement. Shuri marched to your side just as the terrified girl stuck under your thighs found the courage to pull her stretching digits from within your cunt, hoisting you up and throwing your body over her shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“Girl put me the fuck down are you fucking crazy?!”
Shuri held tightly to your ass while she carried you, ignoring your screams and your flailing, dragging you to the kitchen as she tossed an emotionless refrain to Naci. “When I turn around, I expect that you’ll be gone.”
From your incapacitated position on Shuri’s shoulder, you watched Naci scramble for her things, finally regaining motor functions as she slipped out the door hurriedly past Riri, mumbling a soft apology and a promise to text you later. You felt horrible, truly. This was your own doing. Actually, no, this was Shuri’s doing. Because she had no clue how to leave you the fuck alone.
You shot her a murderous scowl once on your feet, smiling smugly when the flashing vein in her forehead caught your eye. “I told you to stop fucking touching me, Shuri.”
“And I told you, to watch how you speak to me. My patience with you sthandwa… Bast it’s beginning to run out,” Hot hands clasped your jaw, tilting your head forcefully, as she gazed into your wild eyes. Pulling away was useless; Shuri used her strength on you now, you realized. A rare occurrence, and this time without your permission. “You're testing me. Not leaving me with many options baby.”
“I'm not your fucking baby. Get your hands off me. Ngoku.” (now)
This fall of tone made her flinch, and your language shift resulted in her obeying you for once. A glint of pride swirled in her deep irises, outshining her agitation, and you lapped it up as you were trained to.
The artistry of Shuri’s transition from enraged to elated would always leave you in awe. It remained an irritating ability but as she did it now, before you, you felt your own annoyance begin to melt away momentarily. “I see you haven't forgotten everything I taught you, Ntomb'am.” (my girl)
“I'm not your girl. Not anymore, so just stop it Shuri. I'm over this, I'm over us — you. I'm cool off all this shit, so just stay out of my love life and leave me the hell alone!”
Hurt stormed her eyes like lightning, and you were almost remorseful. But then Shuri smirked down at you, shoulder pressed into your refrigerator, and she opened that damn mouth of hers to speak words, “So, allowing yourself to be fingered out in the open by someone who lacks relevance is considered having a love life now?”
“I fucking hate you.”
Her lips curved, “Oh, not even you believe that, thando-iwam.”
Ahead of your comeback, Riri strutted past you both during the heat of it all, mumbling a, “Yeah, y’all definitely finna fuck” with a low laugh on her way to her room and you groaned when Shuri’s smirk broadened.
Truthfully you’d forgotten she was still in the room, Shuri’s irritating aura was all-consuming in that way, and her complacent attitude would forever be the worst part of her. You wanted her out of your head, out of your home, and out of your life entirely. But for now, you would settle for out of your face.
“I mean it, Shuri. I'm done.” You trekked to your room after this, with plans of once again bringing about your own orgasm.
•••
Blaring music entranced your hips, and they swayed seductively with a mind of their own. You threw your ass back on Naci, and like a skilled receiver, she caught all of it, administering light spanks.
“I ain't think you was gon fuck with me no more, not after that shit Shuri crazy ass pulled.” Your syllables came out slurred, weighed down by alcohol and the reverberating bass of club music.
When she squeezed your hips, you giggled, allowing the taller woman to whisper her response directly in your ear. “I ain't plan to. Messing with a girl whose ex got superpowers not my gig,” You frowned at her confession, cursing Shuri for ruining yet another good thing for you, but when she spun you to face her, it flipped, morphing into a smirk that matched hers. “But, I seen you tonight, in this tight ass dress, and ion know, guess I couldn't keep my distance.”
“Oh? You fucking with the dress?” You wiggled your waist and she nodded after scanning you up and down, pulling you in.
Her eyes twinkled, matching the lights floating in the ceiling, and that fucking smile did something unlawful to your center. You leaned in, connecting your glossed lips to hers; her kiss back was immediate, and so came that sweltering stare you’d anticipated. Shuri’s glare did nothing to deter you though, because you didn't care if she saw Naci’s grip on your ass as she kissed you. She would just have to watch if she chose to stare.
“She here?” Lips grazed your chest, nipping softly on your cleavage and you whimpered with a chuckle.
“Somewhere.”
Naci cupped your face with one palm, allowing the other to slip under the hem of your leather dress. You were trying to keep your composure, but the feel of Shuri’s eyes heating up as she watched you now was encouraging, so you permitted her continuance. “Damn, you would really let me rub on this pussy right here, huh?”
The low rasp of her voice made you blush, and it was then that you thanked the universe for dark skin, and dark clubs. “Maybe.”
“While I'm down for that, I prefer a bed. A big one. Need space for the shit I got planned for you shawty.”
Your moan was involuntary as her words struck your dampening cunt, her smirk not going unnoticed. “You wanna get out of here then? I got a big ass bed, baby.”
“Oh, shit. Yeah, yeah,” She hadn't expected this response, and her surprise was adorable. “For sure, for sure. But I gotta drop my friend off and head back to mine to get my stuff. I can meet you back at yours?”
Your smile answered her question, and she nodded, placing a soft kiss on your lips, letting it linger before grabbing one last handful of your ass. “That's perfect.”
Irritation returned the moment Naci stepped away, and its cause inched closer to you now. You didn't have to turn around, those hands would be on your body soon, those invasive fucking hands. Like your hips, they too thought for themselves, and they did so now, as Shuri snaked them around your midsection from behind. Instinctively, you pushed back on her; you may not have wanted her, but your body knew her touch and it reacted in the way she liked.
“I see you're having fun, sthandwa.” Her breath hit your neck, and you shut your eyes to let it wash over you. So sultry, and that accent was not helping. Your compliance was to be blamed on the alcohol simmering inside you, because if you were sober, the Princess would not be able to hold you as she did now, you wouldn't allow her fingerprints to brush your sides, her lips wouldn't have pressed into the nape of your neck, and you damn sure wouldn't have moaned like you just did.
You bit your lip, swallowing the second cry attempting to leave your throat and you felt her chuckle as she swayed you. “Get off me, Shuri.”
“Don't deny your gorgeous body what she craves, baby.” Lips never left your neck; Shuri spoke each word into your flesh, letting her teeth press in just a bit.
“Get off me. I'm leaving.”
Her lips began their decline, traveling to your shoulders and you shuddered, just as she wanted you to. “You’d really let her fuck you?”
“Jealous it won't be you, Princess?”
Shuri pulled you closer, and you ground into her harder, letting her body get one last taste of what used to be hers. “Quite.”
“Aww, that's too fucking bad, your Majesty. Now get the hell off me.”
You ripped yourself from her hold. The wrong move; you knew this. Shuri slammed your back into the nearby wall almost immediately, remaining silent as she watched your bosom bounce, “This dress always did look good on you.”
“Shuri le–”
“Shush baby,” Her index finger pressed into your pillowy lips and you resisted the urge to suck it. Fuck. “You had your chance to speak, I’ve been allowing you to run that pretty mouth for weeks. Now it’s my turn, okay?”
You nodded, eyes blown and heart racing.
“You know I can't let you leave here to go fuck her right?” The dark tremor of her words went straight to your aching sex, and you cursed your body's eager reaction to her. You should be past this, you were past this, but your dampening folds said otherwise. “I was willing to let you have your fun, even if that meant watching some nobody touch you where I used to. Wasn't I being so fair?”
Another nod, but Shuri did not seem to be satisfied with this one, and she cupped your jaw harshly, fingers pressing deep into your cheeks, bringing forth a low gasp as your mouth popped open. “Sthandwa, when I ask you a question, you know I expect a response with words.
“Stop touching me, Shuri.”
She grinned before letting you go, and she stepped in closer to inhale your scent, shoving the musk of her own cologne straight into your lungs. Shuri's hands found your waist, tugging your hips closer to hers and she grunted under the collision, marveling openly at your ability to stifle your own. It was hard, you could admit that; denying her had been significantly easier when she was holding back.
“You don't want that and you know it.” Her fucking taunting smile, Jesus. The glint of her golden grills blinded you, and you were forced to shift your focus to her hands — her fingers. Gold covered those too, in the form of rings, and her iced-out Patek whirled your mind. Fuck.
You hissed when she slipped her ringed digits up against your bare cunt beneath your dress, pleading eyes boring into hers. “I can fucking smell you,” Shuri's head hit your shoulder as she slid her fingers through your wet folds, and she growled, the sound alone tightening your nipples. “All night I've been smelling you. You can't keep, fuck… you can't keep testing me like this.”
“Shuri…”
“Tell me to stop. Tell me I’m crossing my last line and I’ll leave you alone.” You bit your lip, pondering this. You should tell her to stop, reject her, shove her away. This was the logical thing to do, the healthy thing to do. But fuck, she was in your face, that cologne clogged your senses, the glimmer of her blinged-out teeth hypnotized you, and goddamn it, you wanted her.
When you relaxed into her hold she chuckled knowingly, “There's my girl.”
Shuri placed a capable palm up against the back of your neck, squeezing possessively as she guided you through a sea of warm bodies and out into the nippy night. The press of her fingers remained protective on the walk; you did not protest her guidance, ignoring the sloshing alcohol in the pit of your stomach.
Once inside the car, you crossed your arms, deciding at the last minute to put up some sort of fight. “Shuri, I don't thi–”
“Hush,” And you obeyed without question, falling back into old patterns as your ex-girlfriend snarled at you under ceiling stars, eyes stalking your barely covered body. “Spread your legs.”
You obliged, albeit hesitantly, and her digits climbed the insides of your thighs. “Fuck…” Her obsession with them had not waned over the three months you'd been apart, and you watched her get lost in them now: squeezing and kneading your thick flesh, gasping at the way they jiggled beneath her touch; Shuri loved the color contrast. Dark faded into darkest, and Shuri moaned as she trailed fingertips along the ombréd skin, inching closer and closer to your awaiting cunt.
“Can I keep going?” A genuine question, probably the softest words she'd offer if you were to oblige. But you agreed anyway, granting her permission to go all the way because you didn't want soft, you wanted rough and unyielding. Luckily for you, your Panther specialized in that.
“Three weeks you’ve been denying me, sthandwa. Three weeks of your little games.”
Of course she viewed it that way, because Shuri’s view of reality was so skewed. “Wasn't no games, Shuri. I just ain't want your ass.”
“Your cunt has been humming a different melody, pretty girl.”
Your clit jumped at her words, and she chuckled. “I hate you.”
“Have you convinced yourself that you actually do yet?” Shuri pushed your dress up, and you begrudgingly hoisted your hips to assist her in bunching it around your middle, rolling your eyes in the process. When your pussy was exposed to the warmth of the car’s air, Shuri sighed. “Fuck… let me see her.”
So you turned to face her in the passenger seat, sprawling wide and rewarding her with the prize she thought herself deserving of. You kept watch of her face: her gaping mouth, bulging eyes, that sexy bottom lip enfolded neatly beneath glittery canines. God, she's so fucking sexy, and your arousal intensified the longer your eyes stayed on her.
Shuri’s eyes, however, were not on yours. Big browns glued themselves to the moisture collecting at your core. You knew how wet you were, you felt every trickle of slick as it slid down your fat pussy lips, pooling right under your ass in the seat of Shuri’s Rolls Royce. But Shuri, she saw how drenched you were, she witnessed it now, and she salivated greedily at the sight.
She reached a hand out hesitantly, then pulled it back to herself, making you tilt your head in confusion. “Tell me I can touch her, give me permission.”
Her request was as surprising as it was attractive, and you bit your lip menacingly with a lone smirk. “No.”
“No?” It knocked the wind out of her, which had been your goal, and you only doubled down as you watched her right eye twitch. “You're denying me. Are you confident in this decision?”
Were you confident in this decision? The night was ending with the two of you fucking, there was no questioning this, but your choices now had all the bearing on how ruthless she'd be. But again, you were not looking to be handled with care.
“Beg me.” Shuri's shock was an image you wanted to hang alongside the gorgeous art in your home; priceless; only of its kind. “Beg for my permission, Princess.”
You were treading in murky waters here, you knew it, she knew it, but you would keep yourself afloat for as long as you could.
Shuri sighed, and you grinned over at her; you could tell she was fighting one of her own, and when you quirked your brow, she let it free, gleaming teeth on full display. “You don't play fair, pretty girl.”
“You know this, Princess.”
A hot hand groped your large thigh, nails digging deep into thick flesh as she tried her hardest to keep her fingers away from their desired location and you whimpered. “Please, thando-iwam, let me touch her, let me feel her. Please let me dip a finger inside, she's so soaked for me already, please let me take care of your gorgeous pussy.”
The thick drag of her accent made you wetter, producing a long groan, and you bucked your hips involuntarily, making Shuri smile. “Fuck, Shuri…”
“I take it, that's my permission? I can feel this pretty cunt now?” You nodded, and she shook her head. “You can do better than that. Give me that word I crave.” Her fingernails still indented your leg and she sunk them deeper now, almost deep enough to break skin and you cried out.
“Yes, Shuri! You can touch my pussy!”
She hummed, allowing her palm to flatten, and she began to massage the crescents her fingernails drew in your skin. “Oh… you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into, my baby.”
Shuri reached over, and you braced yourself for the pressure of slim digits at your sopping core, but that sensation never came. Instead, the Princess reached for your purse sitting on the floor, examining the strap intently. “Yes, this'll do,” She mumbled to herself and you remained puzzled. Here you were, legs wide, wet pussy exposed, yet she seemed more interested in the bag you carried than your continued leaking for her.
She examined the chain, trailing her fingers along it, then that smirk you knew all too well made its umpteenth appearance. Shuri broke the strap roughly from the bag, making you gasp. “Shuri what the fuck?! That was fucking expensive!”
“Yeah, I should know, I bought it.” Shuri rolled her eyes, pushing onto her knees and reaching above you. You peered up at her, watching her work in utter confusion as she looped your purse’s strap through the grab handle overhead, securing it tightly. Then she pulled on your left arm, circling the chain around your wrist harshly before repeating the action on your right. Three loops on both arms made sure you stayed in place, and you grumbled, annoyed.
Once back in her seat, she marveled at her handy work, grinning wide as she licked her lips. “You should see how fucking helpless you look right now.”
With your arms suspended above your head, there was little movement you could do. The position turned you on, making the beat in your already throbbing cunt intensify, wanting desperately for Shuri to fucking stick something inside you. Your desperation shone on your face and she feigned a frown when you whined her name.
Shuri fiddled with the lustrous black beads on her wrist, plucking one away with a smirk, and when it flashed red, you knew exactly what you were in for. A slender finger pranced through your watery folds, she dragged it through slowly, never once brushing your clit, but you moaned from her touch all the same. “Baby, pl-ease, I need…”
“In due time, pretty girl.”
Her finger was wrapped in that dangerous tongue of hers soon after, your eyes pitifully following every swirl as Shuri moaned from that flavor she missed so much, then she returned her attention to the bead. That bead, so minuscule, but its power? Unrivaled.
You weren't ready for it.
Shuri pressed it into your clit anyway, tapping her wrists to begin the pulsations before starting the car, and you screamed. “God!”
•••
“Sh-Shuri, please! Fuck! Oh my god!” Your hips jerked as you shook under the vibrating bead stuck to your clit. Your juices were splashing everywhere, moans bellowing out your throat while Shuri drove leisurely down the street. “Oh fuck! Oooh please!”
The sensation had you flying, your lips were chapped and you thrashed, legs and tits bouncing frantically. She remained unbothered by your screams though, keeping her eyes on the road as you wailed beside her, defenseless against her creation. “Fuck!” Your arms were tired and sore, the metal from the purse strap bruising your wrists as you dangled hopelessly in the passenger seat. Your orgasm came knocking, and it was a violent rap, one your curling toes could not ignore.
“Don't fucking come on my seat.” She didn't look at you, though you could tell she wanted to. Shuri kept her left hand on the wheel, scratching her sharp jawline swiftly before letting the corner of her mouth twitch.
“Drif-faster!” It was barely a word, though it seemed to register, and she smirked fully now.
Her eyes met yours for the first time in fifteen minutes and you could've sworn they softened a little, but the look didn't last long; her menacing gleam returned and she tapped her wrist, upping the speed of the small ball demolishing your used bud. “Faster right? That's what you said?”
You couldn't react, couldn't respond because all your focus lay with containing your release to make her happy, and it was beyond difficult. The sounds of your drenched pussy kept climbing and your screams weren't far behind.
“I-I h-hate y-ou! H-hate you sooo fu-cking much!” Your shaking was uncontrollable, and Shuri laughed, reaching over to shove two digits deep into your seeping cunt. Similarly to her driving, her pumps were slow, barely scratching the itch you had, and it only fueled your anger. Fuck her, honestly.
“Yeah, keep saying that baby, tell me how much you fucking hate me. Getting me so wet.” She chuckled again, as she came to a complete stop at a yellow light. Demonic bitch. You imagined kicking her, but the sick fuck would probably enjoy it.
You were whining, on the verge of tears almost, the buzzing bead drilling deeper into your clit, and your hole tightened around Shuri's fingers. “I h-hate you!” You spared a glance down at your wet core, letting yourself become entranced with the way tattooed fingers fucked you as your creamy pussy wept around them.
Your head was spinning, and you slammed your eyes shut, biting your lip as you allowed your hips to rut into Shuri’s fingers.
“Come. I dare you.”
You didn't care, you couldn't hold it anymore. The pleasure was too much, and it had you reeling, all thoughts drifting to how badly you wanted — needed to frolic with the stars, you needed to come and you were going to. Right on her coaxing fingers, right on her already dampened seat. And you did, sucking her digits in deeper with your willful clench, and you screamed. You squirted, sprayed everything in the front seat as she fucked you through it, your body swinging from side to side.
When you opened your eyes you tried adjusting your blurred vision, and you took in your surroundings. You were still heaving, the bead still buzzing, but the tempo was softer now, massaging almost, and you sighed once you realized you were home.
“You really don't know how to follow instructions, huh?” Shuri’s drawl was but an echo as it bounced around your mind, making you loopier.
“Inside?” It was the only word on your tongue, and you hoped that she understood what you were asking.
Shuri smiled, easing her digits from your dribbling pussy with care, but she left the Kimoyo bead in place and you grunted. “Before we go in sthandwa, I need to know if you remember our safe words.”
You awarded her a weak nod, hoping it would suffice, but Shuri wanted to hear your shaky words. In part because she needed to know the two of you were on the same page, but also because she wanted to get off on your inability to speak without stuttering. “Three n-noble g-gasses cause y-you're a n-nerd.”
This made her chuckle, and she beamed over at your spent body, still dangling, still helpless as you sat in your mess, your black dress streaked with your cum. “You remember which ones, pretty?”
“Neon, good o-or keep g-oing. Xenon, slow down or b-break. Krypton, s-stop.”
“Good girl.”
You wanted to return her weak smile, but you opted for a scowl instead, earning yet another laugh from her. “N-Nerd.”
“I’d fuck you right here, just like that with those hands out of the way. Roll the windows down and open all the doors so the entire neighborhood can hear just how pitiful you are when I'm inside you. But, that wouldn't be fair, would it?”
Your body scorched at the thought of Shuri's threat; she wasn't bluffing. Her palm gripped your face again, but this time you leaned into it, granting yourself permission to bask in it like you wanted to. Shuri’s touch was addicting, regardless of its harshness, and you let yourself relax into the feel of fingers digging into your dimples, unashamed.
“I-Inside?” You asked again, and her smile was enough to set you on fire as you peered at her through hooded eyes.
“Yeah, we're going inside now pretty girl.” Shuri took one last look at your restrained form and the cum staining your thighs, biting her lip as her eyes found the low humming bead still attached to your tired cunt. Though its intensity had lessened, the continued vibrations were still too much, and you secretly wished she would rescue you from its assault, but you knew better.
Sleep spoke to you while you hung there breathless, and you felt inclined to listen as you tugged pointlessly on your tied-up wrists. Shuri sucked on her fingers as she watched you wiggle across from her, that satisfied little smile only served to infuriate you. You had not missed her games. She knew how badly you wanted her right now, and her wicked mind was content to watch you unravel.
There was a slow build in the pit of your stomach, stacking and stacking; another orgasm underway, but you were fighting it. “Sh-Shuri…”
“Alright.” She grinned, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the car. She was on your side in milliseconds, pulling the door open and she spun you, making you wince from the slight pain on your wrists. She did nothing to shield your body from passersby as she reached to untie you, and you whined. “You're a mess.”
You were, and you knew once you crossed the threshold of your apartment, you would only get messier. Loving lips kissed your blemished wrists tenderly once you were freed, your eyes finding hers immediately, wanting nothing more than to witness the care floating inside them, and you smiled at her.
“Pretty.” Her whisper shook you, and your heartbeat came alive, Shuri's knowing smirk alerting you that she was privy to its thump. “Can you stand?”
She allowed your nod this time, placing her palm on your back to steady you as your heels hit the concrete. You wobbled, but that was expected, and Shuri guided you inside slowly.
Thinking you were in the clear was a childish belief, one you fell victim to as you absorbed Shuri's touch. Once you stepped onto the elevator, all feelings of warm and fuzzy evaporated the second those doors slid shut.
“Shuri fuck!” The buzzing between your thighs returned and it came back stronger than before. You hadn't even seen her toy with her wrist. Fuck ass bitch, there was a special place carved in hell for her, this you were sure of. Your clit screamed out to you, begging you for relief as you listened to the sloshing happening at your core, slick trickling down your thighs, but you had none to offer. Your only defense was squatting down in the elevator with your hand gripping the railing.
“Oooh! Shu-ri, fuck you! F-Fuck you!”
Her back was to you, and you watched her shoulders rise with her words, “I'm so turned on right now by the sound and smell of you, I just might let you.”
“And you better not come.”
It was too late, you were already wailing, falling to your knees as a second flood came washing through you on the elevator floor. “Fuck! Shit oh my god, Shuri I'm fucking coming, I c-can't!”
She shook her head, passing a glance back at you only briefly before stepping off when the doors opened on your floor. “Walk.”
It was the only word you needed, it got you on your feet with zero assistance, and you staggered out of the elevator behind your ex, leaving a puddle of your release behind without a care. You were on her leash again, fully now, the thing you’d been running from for three weeks. But you didn't care anymore, you needed her in every way imaginable, and you would have her.
•••
You watched Shuri nervously from where you stood in the doorway as she checked herself out in the closet mirror, grinning wide and appreciating the shiny embellishments in her mouth. She twisted slightly in the swivel chair, but not once had she taken her eyes off her reflection.
Shuri was aware of her attractiveness. On any other person this behavior would be gag-inducing, but seeing the Princess of Wakanda salivate over herself before you now made your thumping clit jump under the slowing tremors of the toy clinging to it.
You were awaiting further instruction, too afraid to make a move without your Panther’s say. And Shuri used this to her advantage. She knew you’d stand there all night untouched if she forced you to, and you cursed your easy way of falling back in line for her.
“Khulula.” (take it off) There was no time wasted in between the toss of her command, and you ridded your body of your ruined dress, freeing your breasts and ass from confinement. When it hit the floor, Shuri's hot eyes found your bare skin from where she sat, their gaze predatory.
“Fuck, you're so sexy,” She sucked in her bottom lip, and you blushed under the heat of her compliment. “Can't believe I stayed away from you for three weeks.”
“Technically you didn't. You were al–”
That index finger of hers went up, clipping your sentence and shutting you up. “Crawl to me, sthandwa.”
It was automatic, your compliance, and you were on your knees, creeping slowly towards the Princess. Your mind and body never lost that need to obey, and they reflected this now, as you kneeled before her with her strong palm around your throat. She clutched your neck, squeezing softly and you let yourself get caught up in your dwindling oxygen flow.
“You look good on your knees for me.” She tightened her hold on your throat, leaning in to kiss you sloppily, and you whined into her mouth, chasing after the press of tender lips. Your desperation made her chuckle, and Shuri pulled away on purpose. “You want me to kiss you again?”
“Y-Yes Panther.”
The address made her grin widen; spitting it out was muscle memory, and Shuri graciously granted your wish. This kiss was harder, driven by her hunger for you and she hoisted you up by your throat, spreading her legs as she instructed you to sit between them in the chair. You pressed into her chest immediately, soaking up the vibrations of her laughter as you allowed her to spin the both of you to face the mirror.
“Look at yourself, baby” She pointed to your reflection and your eyes met in the glass. “You see how sexy this body is? Hmm?
A shy smile tugged on your lips, and you rolled your eyes. You knew Shuri would be expecting an answer though, and the way she squeezed tighter on your throat was the only warning you received. Her eyes were on yours as she spoke again, their intensity making you shrink a little, “Do you see how sexy you look right now? Answer me.”
“Mhmm.”
The pressure on your throat increased. “Not good enough, do better. Look at yourself and tell me how sexy you are.”
“S-So sexy. I’m so sexy.”
Her palm traveled up your neck eagerly and she moaned into your ear at the sound of your words, letting her ringed fingers clutch your face harshly. “Fuck… say it again.”
“I’m so sexy.”
Shuri nodded, dragging her digits down your face as she watched you twitch beneath their tingle, agreeing wholeheartedly with your statement. “Yes. You are.” Her hips bucked into your bare back now and you couldn’t help but giggle under the sensation.
Her squeeze on your face only grew in strain, her rings diving deep into your flesh and you winced under the ache. The sound caught Shuri’s attention, and she let you go, admiring the small trickle of blood brought about by her gold jewelry.
“Oh… thando-iwam, look what I’ve done to this pretty face. Will you forgive me?” Her grills came out to play, blinding you as that maniacal grin formed on her mouth; Shuri's plea for absolution was not sincere.
The pad of her thumb brushed the spot, sweeping the crimson droplet as one would a tear, and she locked eyes with you in the mirror, hoisting her finger to those gorgeous lips, and she sucked — swallowing your bright blood with a deep moan.
Witnessing this act, its intimacy, was enough to shove you straight into another release. “Panther, I’m gonna c-come again!”
Shuri smiled, licking her red-stained lips in the mirror before tapping your legs, and they sprang open. She wasted no time pulling the bead away, making you sigh in relief.
“Give me a word baby, where are you?”
“Neon.”
“Good fucking girl.” You watched as her inked digits dug into your depths, pulling a cry out of you when she nudged that special spot. Shuri fucked your cunt with ferocity, using her free hand to pull on your erect nipple.
You were shaking, spreading your legs wider in the chair as you watched those skilled fingers move in and out of your hungry hole. “Faster baby, faster! Fuck me faster!”
“You see how perfectly my fingers fit in this pretty pussy? You see how easily they slip in and out? She knows me. She missed me.” She bit your neck and you screamed, jolting forward into her thrusts as you nodded.
“Yes, Panther! She missed you! Keep fucking her like that, just like that Panther oh my god!”
She scissored those foul fingers inside you, pressing deeper into your g-spot with each jab and her grip returned to your throat, craning it downward to make you watch your cunt stretch around her. “Look at your pussy. Look at how she's coating my fingers fuck, you see?”
“Yes, Panther!”
“She can't make you feel like this. This pussy isn't hers. I'm the only one allowed in here, yeva?” (are we clear) You nodded, barely aware of who Shuri was referring to, but she craved a yes, and you were eager to offer it up.
She rammed into you, shutting her eyes as she listened to your unending squishing for her, your wetness leaking all over both of your bodies. Her thumb found your clit and she flicked it with precision, earning loud cries from you. “Keep doing that baby, just like that!”
Your poor clit; you could not aid her. “Tell me how much you hate me. Say it for me!”
“I fucking hate you, god I hate you so much! Ooh shit, I h-hate you!”
Her digits refused to relent, and Shuri moaned your name as she let her eyes stay trained on how well she drilled you with only fingers, smirking every time you clamped around them. “That's it, baby, make that big mess for me. Come hard around my fingers.”
“S-So close for you Panther, make me fucking come! Make this pussy cream for you baby, so messy for you!”
Your squelching cunt remained Shuri's favorite tune, and she listened now, looping the sound. If her thrusts into your back were any indication, she too, was on the verge of orgasm.
“My messy baby. Oh look at that, look at that cunt get fucked!” She kissed your neck, twitching aimlessly underneath you.
Your scream cracked as it floated out of your throat and into the air, causing you to go limp in Shuri’s embrace. She quivered, eyes shut tight, fingers still working your pussy. This wouldn't do. “Shuri, open your eyes.”
She bucked under you still, but those eyes remained closed as she grunted lowly. “Open those eyes baby, let me see them.”
Your voice was but a cool breeze as it whisked her lids open and she stared deeply into your soul as she permitted her orgasm to hit. “Bast! Y-You're in my head, got me so crazy I’m gonna come for you sthandwa, shit! D-Didn't even need to t-touch me fuck!”
“Do it for me, Panther. Wanna make my Panther come so hard in those fucking jeans.”
She cupped large handfuls of your breasts, tweaking each nipple as her eyes burned holes into your own in the mirror before you, jutting her hips tirelessly to get herself off. “Say it again.”
“I fucking hate you, Shuri.”
And those were the words to send her all the way. She moaned with wild exuberance, writhing in the chair as her climax engulfed her, never once losing your gaze. Shuri's mouth hung agape and her breathing hitched, warm air hitting your neck as she sank her teeth deep into your flesh as a means to ground herself.
It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen, largely because it’d never happened before, not this way around, and the pair of you laughed, allowing yourselves a moment to slowly come down from your highs.
“Where are you, baby?” She kissed her teeth marks and you shuddered.
“Neon still. Need more.”
Shuri chuckled, hugging your tired body close as she rocked you in the chair, “Tell me what you need. Maybe I’ll reward you for being so good.”
“Wanna taste you.”
She raised a brow, clearly surprised by your shameless request. “Oh?”
“Please can I taste you, Panther?”
•••
“Guqa Ngamadol.” (kneel)
You waited, palms face down on your bent knees with Shuri's cum-filled cunt looming above you.
“Ready?” An eager nod bobbed your head as you let your eyes travel the length of lean legs, watching as Shuri lowered herself slowly onto your face, and she sighed breathily the second lips covered her clit.
Immediately, she fisted your tight coils forcefully, “Yess baby. Bast!” You lapped her up, round eyes watching her abs quiver with each moan she produced for you, and you hummed in enjoyment of her flavor.
“Tell me how good I fucking taste baby!”
“So fucking good, Panther, missed your pussy so much!”
She ground into your lips with a little whine, though she tried to eat it before you could notice. Panther speed evaded her just this once, and you were grateful for it as you nestled deeper into her pussy with your tongue, inhaling sharply. Her hole was expecting you, permitting you to slip in with ease, accepting your light thrusts as Shuri tensed above you.
She was tugging your hair, pushing her cunt harder against your mouth and her cries told you she was near. You’d be drowning in her release soon, and the thought caused you to squeeze your legs together. She pushed harder into your face, smearing her cum, and you returned your attention to her clit.
“You look so sexy down there, wanna keep you on the ground until your knees fucking hurt,” She ripped your mouth away from her sopping center and you whined, pouting up at her. “Would you like that? To eat my pussy until those knees can't take it anymore?”
“Yes, Panther.” Her clit pulled you in like a magnet and soon you were latched to it again: licking, sucking, slurping everything Shuri gave you. Her pussy was addicting like that, one taste and you wanted to know nothing else.
Shuri rode your face now, and you knew what that meant. Your fingernails drilled into the delicate meat of her thighs and you upped your suction.
“Fuck! I'm close, sthandwa! Tell me again, tell me how much you hate me so I can come for you!”
“God I hate you! So fucking much!” You mumbled it into her pussy, shoving your tongue deeper, and Shuri’s hole locked you in place. You grinned, awaiting that scream you knew was underway and when it hit, Shuri's entire body convulsed above you.
“Shit! Shit! You're pulling it out of me pretty girl, just like that! Pull it all the way out, fuck!” And she collapsed onto her mattress, exhaling long and deep. “Come let me taste myself on your lips, baby.”
You scaled the bed, climbing up to pull her in for a long filthy kiss, and Shuri spent extra time sucking your tongue, cleaning the lastings of her release off your face. “I taste so damn good, shit.”
You giggled, pecking her again. “Yeah.”
“Your turn.” And she was on her knees, bouncing back instantly as she tapped your large thighs until you opened up with a squish, your messy pussy fluttering like a butterfly below her. “Oh… look at that.”
A slender finger found your folds ahead of her mouth, and you groaned, receiving a scolding brow raise from your ex-girlfriend.
She trailed kisses down your thighs, nibbling on your cellulite as she inched closer to where you needed her most. But her lips never met your cum-coated ones, she dodged them entirely, pressing her mouth into your stomach and hips instead. “Shuri…”
“Be fucking patient.” She spanked your pussy, sending droplets of your many orgasms flying before sinking her teeth into your abdomen as punishment.
Shuri leaned down, dipping her tongue into your ocean teasingly with a smirk that you felt, and a quick peck was placed on your clit.
“Evil, evil little cat.” You grumbled, and she laughed into your pussy.
Finally, in sank her tongue, long and wet, and your cry was angelic. Shuri ate your pussy delicately, licking every fold with care as she inched to your clit. Once it was in her mouth, she siphoned the weary bud, easing you into it. “Such a pretty pussy.”
Her tongue swiveled around your achy bud; you were so sore, so sensitive, but you needed more of her mouth. Her slurping increased in speed and ferocity, and soon you were thrashing, gripping the sheets as your Panther ate you out. Your body's defense to the sensation was to squeeze her head with your thighs, a feeling Shuri enjoyed.
There was a low laugh as you sealed her head in place, and Shuri sent that dangerous tongue deep into your leaking entrance as you tugged fistfuls of her hair. “Devour me like I'm your fucking prey, Panther!”
She moaned into your most delicate with a nod, “Baptize me in these thick thighs baby! Smother me!”
“Lap me up, you eat this pussy so good Panther. Fuck! Keep your tongue right there, r-right there!” You were close again, battling that familiar build pushing its way through your core, pulling on every muscle you had. You saw stars, mind spinning as you squeezed her head and yanked her curls. “I'm coming for you, Panther! Coming all over that face! Suck this fucking pussy! This your pussy!”
“My fucking pussy!” She latched onto your clit, digging her hips into the sheets violently with desperate moans. Something inside you cracked permanently with this orgasm. You screamed her name, grinding your cunt into her soaked face as you sucked in your last breath. Damp white sheets tangled around your body as you kicked your feet with Shuri still suckling you through your bone-rattling climax. You whined, needing desperately for her to stop, but not wanting to disappoint her.
When she finally came up for air, she was steeped in your cum, droplets of your wetness clinging to her curls. Shuri smiled at you, grills gleaming and you shied away. “I can't wait to fuck you stupid, pretty girl.”
•••
Shuri left no room for acclimation. It’d been months since she stretched your tight walls, and the gracious thing in this circumstance would be to allow you to adjust to the size of her girthy strap. But what was grace in the eyes of the Princess? Did she believe you deserved it?
Your answer to these questions lay in the way she plowed you mercilessly from behind. Shuri did not care, and she fucked you hard, drilling that sentiment into your dribbling pussy.
“Fu-ck P-anther!”
Her strap grazed your walls, and you felt every dent, every divot as she pulled out just to slam back in. Your cunt sobbed, widening with every thrust of the toy destroying your hole. The sensation it brought forth, one that tightened your chest; it made your mind blank as you readily accepted all of her. “Listen to that pussy baby. You're so pathetic, can't help getting this wet for me, huh?”
Shuri pushed into you, not waiting for a response as she grasped your wild curls, yanking your neck up forcibly. The action jarred you, and you gasped, staring helplessly at the image of her working you from the back in the mirror before you. “Look at that face. See how sexy you look when you get fucked?”
You couldn't respond, too busy gurgling your saliva as she rammed into your cervix without a care.
“Answer me when I fucking speak to you, pretty girl. Look at yourself, do you see why I’m so addicted to staring at you when I'm buried deep in this perfect cunt?”
“Y-Yes! Panther! So sexy!”
Your pussy pulled Shuri’s dick in, claiming the curved member as her own, and you took a long hard look at your gyrating body in the reflective surface. Gone was the freshness of your coils, now they laid damp on your sweaty forehead, moving only when Shuri fucked into you hard. Your parted lips were swollen as you screamed for her, eyes blown to bits, and you struggled terribly to keep them open. Your tits jumped under each of Shuri's movements, and that’s where you found her eyes in the mirror.
Their bounce hypnotized her now, each grunt she expelled brought out by your tight squeeze on her cock and the vision of your pointed nipples, no doubt with the fantasy of nibbling on them floating around her scattered brain.
God, you’d missed watching how caught up in your body Shuri got when she filled your tight cunt with her veiny strap. You were a dream to her, and she was shameless in letting that show.
“Listen to that cunt, she's screaming for me, baby. So damn wet and pitiful.”
“P-anther!”
A hard slap came down on your ass, and you watched the smack shake your entire body. Damn that strength of hers, the pain it came with watering your eyes, and you tried your hardest not to let them spill, knowing she'd only make fun of you, but when her palm collided with your heated skin once more, stinging the same spot, you couldn't help it.
“You're crying, baby? Are those tears?”
She drilled you, smashing into your g-spot so hard, you heard a low crack in your spine as you arched for her.
“Shut up,” A sweet symphony when slicked in Shuri's accent, though its demand was anything but. “All I wanna hear is this wet pussy as I dive into you. Can you do that? Can you shut up for me?”
You nodded, biting your lip as your tears rolled into your mouth to swim with your spit. You fixated on her face, and it contorted as she absorbed your clench, each dive into your deepness tugging on her climax.
“Listen to that, fuck! Yeah, let that pussy do the talking pretty girl!”
You were drooling, eyes rolling back in your mind every time Shuri thrusted into you. Your muscles ached horribly, but your core seemed fond of its little dance with Shuri's strap, sucking her in, spitting her out, and she was entranced by it. Whenever your eyes found themselves opened, you'd catch her staring at the space where her hips connected to your ass cheeks, grinning and reveling in the sound of squelching pussy and slapping skin.
You were close again: body bubbling in that simmering pot of ecstasy, thighs wobbling as an indicator to your ex. “Ooh not yet baby, the show is just about to start.”
You didn't make a sound, per her instruction, choosing to hone in on your noisy slickness as you chomped on your inner cheek.
“Yo, the door was open so I ju–” Delirium did not bar your recognition of familiarity. This voice was one you knew: Naci. She stood frozen in the doorway, clutching her backpack, shock and hurt covering that pretty face, and all you wanted to do was shrivel up.
Shuri’s plans differed from your own, however. She fisted your hair, turning your neck to face Naci who still stood unmoving, that smirk evident in her voice, “Oh, thando-iwam, look who it is. Natty was it? Say hi to Natty baby.” She kept fucking you through your heavy tears.
"H-Hi N-Natty." A fractured greeting falling from a fractured throat as Shuri knocked into you.
“You see how easy it was for me to slut her out, Natty? Look at her, falling apart all around me.” Her thrusts dug deep, and you realized this whole time she'd been holding back. That first plow in front of Naci carved a hole in your throat, and your mewls were back, filling the room with every evil rut of Shuri's devilish hips.
She tightened her hold on your hair, yanking ruthlessly as she rammed into your aching sex amidst your broken screams, “Tell Natty who's fucking you this good, baby.”
You were a babbling mess: face wet with tears and spit, words evading you, unconsciousness knocking on your open door. Your body heated around Shuri, and she took your lack of response as disobedience. An open palm found your ass again, and you yelped. “Fucking tell her.”
“Y-You panther!” You locked eyes in the mirror and she tutted.
“No,” She bucked into your cunt, splashing your wetness. “Don’t tell me, tell her. Use that mouth you like to run so much.”
You hesitated, obviously, but that need to please was on fire now, and you turned to face Naci as Shuri continued drilling your drooling pussy from behind. “S-Shuri fucks me s-so good!”
“Again!”
You gripped the sheets; you'd be coming soon. “Shuri fucks me so good! Only her!”
“Whose dick do you want?”
You were mortified, embarrassment clinging to you like the cum on your skin, “Only yours baby, nobody can fuck me like my Panther!”
This pleased Shuri, and her thrusts became loving. Each hip jolt nudged your spongy area softly, luring your orgasm to the forefront, and you let it collect in your depths, preparing for the spread of bliss. “Oh god! Don't Stop panther, don't fucking stop, fuck this fucking pussy oh my god!”
“Yeah, you take me so fucking well. That's my good girl. My good fucking girl.” She was grunting, groaning louder as she railed your tired hole and your pussy drank her in like the greedy little thing she was.
“I'm your good girl!” You exploded then, pleasure coating and massaging your sore muscles as you collapsed at the foot of the bed, barely clinging to reality.
Shuri chuckled darkly, “You hear that Natty? She's mine. See your way out please so I can return all my focus to my girl, and leave the door open. Need everyone in this damn building to know who she fucking belongs to.”
There was shuffling, quick footsteps out of the room, and you sighed, allowing the tension and shame to leave your body as Shuri gripped your hips, pulling you back on her large cock over and over.
“S-She g-one?”
She laughed, pulling out to slap the strap on your sore clit before diving back in. “Yeah, baby, she’s gone. Are you okay, talk to me?”
“Xenon.”
•••
“Put me inside you.” You laid on your back, staring up at her longingly as you wrapped anxious fingers around her strap, positioning it at your entrance. Shuri pressed into you; slow; steady, and the heat of your core swallowed her thickness inch by fucking inch as her jeweled canines punctured your shoulder.
“Use my pussy, Panther!”
Her tongue found your nipples, sucking pleasantly, biting just enough to pull a small whimper out of you, and she moved to the other, her swirling tongue sending tremors straight to your clit. “Relax, pretty. It's just us now.”
Her coos worked to soothe you, and you calmed around her, relinquishing your spent body to Shuri’s languid thrusts. “That's it. Let me take care of you. Wrap your legs around me, let me get deeper.”
Your ankles locked around her waist, and the way she rocked into you like you were her most precious thing had your sobs tumbling from your swollen mouth. Your puzzle was complete with Shuri inside you. You’d found that missing piece hiding underneath the couch cushions, and finally pushing it in place was euphoric.
“So good. Your p-pussy is s-soo good, sthandwa.” She nuzzled into your neck, very obviously near her edge as she stroked you long and deep.
Lips met her damp face, and she looked into you. “W-Want to fill you up, want to mark you.”
You nodded, “Mark me, Panther. Fill me. Claim me.”
She smirked, diving her dribbling tip deeper into your bundle of nerves, “You going to say it for me? Say it for me so I can paint your precious walls with my cum baby.”
You waited a beat, no words, just your breathless moans, and Shuri’s tired grunts. You grabbed her face, mimicking her favorite way of capturing your attention, getting lost in those fucked out eyes of hers as you opened your mouth, “I l-love you, Shuri!”
Her surprise came instantly, and so did her nut. “Oh fuck! Oh, fuck I’m coming so deep inside you baby! Shit!”
Shuri’s thick seed spurted into you through the tip of her strap, a familiar feeling, one you missed. And it made itself one you were likely to chase forever, you thought, as you succumbed to your own rattling release, spasming under your Panther with a low exhale.
She didn't respond to your confession, choosing to knock her hips harder into yours as she spilled her release into your already stuffed hole, “Oh baby, you see how creamy I just made your pussy? Look at that big mess we just made!”
“So fucking sexy panther, my pussy was made for you to fill!” Your low babbles made Shuri chuckle with each of her continued thrusts, they were sloppier now, less practiced, but she showed no signs of relenting.
Honestly, you needed a break, that previously established safe word frolicking tauntingly on your tongue. Unfortunately, though, your desire to please the Panther bloomed stronger than any other want or need forming inside you, so you let her keep fucking you through it.
Shuri pulled out, slapping the tip hard against your sensitive clit, and the action made you eat your sigh of relief. She no longer took up space inside your walls, which you appreciated, but gone was her previous kindness. “I bet if I placed my mouth back on this filthy swollen cunt you'll unravel completely. Am I correct?”
You gave her a broken hum, but it wasn't what she wanted. “Pretty girl, where's my answer?” A harder slap came down on your center, and you listened to the loud squelch created by the toy’s contact with your skin right before she slid back in.
“C-Cant.” Was all you saw yourself able to give her, and she let the fractured word suffice.
Shuri's lips pressed into your bruised neck, and you exhaled from the softness, though she still drilled into you as she spoke. “Do you want me to stop? Give me a word baby.”
“Krypton.”
Her thrusts came to a halt, and she eased out of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and tilting your weak body to face her in the sheets.
“You gon make me say it again ain't you?” The way Shuri undressed your existing nakedness now made you ponder a query: Was it possible to exist and harbor genuine hatred for this Princess? Lying to yourself took energy, of which you had none now, so you accepted what you knew to be true.
She nodded, and you gave her a tired grin, “I fucking love you, Shuri.”
“I know.” She kissed you, burning you with her hot, love-stained lips and you let yourself fall again — into her and into everything that made her.
contains: again, smut (18+) with literally no plot. stud!riri, strap!riri, oral (both receiving), praise (if you squint it's there i promise), spanking (riri loves big booty bitches), dom!riri, fingering, riri is a little mean, overstimulation
note: soon as the stud!riri conversation started i ran to my google docs and this was a result of that. my first time writing riri smut so be nice to me! riri williams you will never beat them stud allegations, sorry boo i know what you are. also I slipped in some of y'alls hc's for extra fun! anywhos this has no plot, not even a dash. enjoy <33
Tipsy giggles escaped you as you stumbled clumsily down the hotel hallway, peering over your shoulder occasionally to assure Riri still followed you. She did, but her strides were nowhere near as graceless as your own. They were calculated, measured; Riri trekked behind you with the utmost confidence.
She hummed a tune, smirking only slightly with eyes that hung low. That stare made you keenly aware that she was only allowing you to lead the race back to your suite, she allowed you to believe you had the upper hand. The musk of her cologne followed you closely though, dizzying you along with the wine in your system.
You held tight to your bouquet of scarlet roses, clinging to it for dear life. One slight movement and they would tumble to the floor, and you along with them. Your little jog picked up speed and you ignored the four times your ankle twisted, you were in a hurry, a hurry to get away from her. Ultimately, every step you took was in vain.
Riri had the room key, there was no getting in without her. You halted as this realization dawned on you and pouted when she approached. It was still there, that sly smirk. The smirk lingered on her kiss-swollen lips, hiding behind the faint stain of your red lipstick there as well.
She stood before you, studying your frame intently, no doubt making a mental list of all the places her lips would caress once you got inside. Riri leaned in, pressing her front to yours and you gasped shakily. Her cologne clogged your brain. The aroma was strong, and it was rich. It was the most seductive scent you’d ever inhaled.
And that’s what it was doing, right now; Riri’s cologne was seducing you all by its lonesome. She met your eye line and licked her lips. Containing your need for her grew more impossible the longer she stood there, ogling you in the way she did.
Someone moaned. And when she laughed you were ashamed, but not in the least bit surprised to learn it was you. “You’re crushing my roses.”
It was all you could muster and thankfully it was enough to get her exacting gaze off you, be it only briefly. Eyes, seemingly only aware of you and your flustered demeanor, panned quickly to the flowers in your hold, and you took the opportunity to exhale quietly.
She flicked her gaze back to you again, then down to your heaving chest. “Move.”
One word, she shot it at you as one would a bullet, and you stumbled. Crimson flowers threatened a fall, one you didn’t allow. You held your ground, ignoring her tone, ignoring how sexy she looked.
You didn’t care about her loose-fitting camo pants, or about that green jumper she wore along with them, no. Her navy blue puffer coat did not matter, neither did her skully, even if it looked hot as hell sitting atop her fresh braids. Those gold chains, no one cared about those. White air forces were played out anyway, right?
The dampness at your core sang a different song. Your pussy cared, she cared a lot. “You gotta move ma, I need to open the door. Unless you tryna have these people watch us. I ain’t know you was into that.”
You groaned and stepped out of her way. “I might really want you to fuck me right now, but you mad annoying you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.” She pushed the door open, gesturing for you to enter and you did. “But you still gon let me hit so who’s really winning?”
You rolled your eyes at her. Stepping further into the room you took notice of the way she decorated it: Petals on the floor and on the bed. Heart-shaped scented candles adorned every surface, unlit but their scent carried. On the bed sat two cute teddies holding fluffy hearts.
“Aww babe, you did all this?” You pulled her in, kissing her face and she giggled into all of it. “You’re so cute, the cutest!”
Riri loved when you babied her, it was truly her weakness, and you enjoyed doing it.
“I need you out of those clothes, and between my legs like right now. It’s been too long since I got some good head.” Her words excited you and you began to strip, watching as she did the same.
The longer you stared at her, the more you realized just how much you missed her, just how much you needed her. Needing Riri was an all-consuming feeling, your entire being craved her when she wasn’t near, and when she was, that need amplified beyond reason, it surpassed understanding. “Not my baby putting on the dewey getting all sexy for me.”
“Girl, you think I’m finna sweat my hair out dealing with you?” She tried stifling her giggle, pulling you close and connecting your lips, desire spilling out of her and into you.
You kissed her back just as hard, letting the lust-filled air wrap your bodies tightly together. Wanting lips, hungry lips latched onto her neck as you pushed her toward the bed, letting her fall directly into the white sheets. You straddled her, thick thighs on either side of her muscular frame. It was your turn to smirk now, you had her exactly where you wanted her, trapped beneath your ass and thighs. And it was where she was happiest.
“These are sexy as fuck, too bad Ima rip them off real soon.” Her fingers snaked under the thin material of your baby pink lingerie, grazing your lace-clad skin tenderly, and you shuddered.
You pecked her lips once, twice, three times, before sliding all the way down her body, stopping at the spot you know she needed you the most. Riri helped you slip her briefs down rather swiftly and you laughed at her readiness. “Somebody’s eager.”
Two fingers glided through her watery folds and she hissed. You avoided her clit at all costs, opting to tease her entrance instead. Your fingers would hover right at the edge, brushing deftly, but you would never sink them inside. Not fully. Riri needed to beg for it, you needed her to plead for you. Her moans picked up once she caught wind of your plan and she twitched. “Mami please, I need it.”
“What do you need baby?” You kissed the inside of her thighs before biting a little, she always loved that.
“Your mouth, your fingers, please. Please, fuck I need it!” The e’s in her spitting of the word ‘need’ dragged out, and you gladly granted her wish. Your wet tongue dipped into her pussy, she was dripping and you’d barely touched her. A satisfied smile stretched across your features at the thought. Riri was just as desperate for you as you were for her.
“You taste so good Ri.” Your words came out muffled, and the way she twitched told you they pushed burly waves of shock throughout her body. Her clit was in your mouth and you sucked sloppily, earning loud whines from your girlfriend. All the while two fingers stretched her, causing her to curse as she shot her back off the bed. “Relax baby, relax.”
You pumped her hole swiftly, splashing around in the wetness she oozed for you, enjoying her taste on your lips. Riri’s whimpers were your favorite song, you looped them in your mind, knowing she would only make those sounds for you. “You sound so fucking sexy for me, moaning and shit. Am I making you feel good?”
“Yes ma, fuck. I’m so close.” Her hips jerked, confirming her admission and you smiled.
Your pace increased and another finger found its way into her, this time yanking a cry from her lips. “This pretty pussy gonna come for me? Huh? You gon come Ri?’
Her nods were vigorous, her eyes were slammed shut as she arched upward. “So fucking wet. Yeah come for me.” You returned your lips to her sensitive bud, swirling your tongue around, granting her no ease. You wanted to make her melt for you, needed her to come undone around you.
“Shit, I’m coming!” Digits nudged her nerves and her muscles clamped around you, locking your hand in that position. You continued sucking her through her orgasm, spitting on her already-soaked pussy and lapping her up best you could. The way her clit jumped in your mouth should've been your cue to release her, but you refused. “Fuck mami, okay, okay! Shit, okay!”
Riri pushed your head away and you climbed her body to meet her lips. Her pants, so pretty, so sinful, made you smile smugly before you kissed her. The kiss was long and heated, allowing her to taste every drop of her sweet nectar on your mouth and she moaned into your throat. “Nasty ass. You like how you taste on me?”
She nodded shyly, allowing you to inhale her neck. That fucking cologne would be your end. Without so much as a warning, Riri flipped you, and you gasped. She towered over you, rising like a shadowy figure in the night and you gulped. “You ready for me?”
“Mhmm.” Your grin was wide and she kissed it away.
“You ain’t ready for me.”
•••
The hotel bed creaked obnoxiously loud from the force of Riri drilling you. Greedy hands on your waist pulled you back, hard, against her thick strap again and again. She stretched you wide, so wide little red hearts bounced around behind your eyelids. God, you missed her, missed this. Missed the way she fucked you senseless.
The sweet fragrance of roses slithered its way up your nose. Red petals glued to your face as she shoved you deeper into silk pillows, attempting to muffle your moans. The act proved to be useless when she hit your special spot. Riri was not one to enjoy failed attempts, but she relished in the idea of your screams coming from the sinister way she was blowing your back out.
“Fuck, you missed me?” Slick trickled down your legs, her thrusts creating a loud sloshing sound at your core. Riri wanted you to answer, the powerful way she bucked into your pussy made that abundantly clear. But words were lost on you, this she knew, which made her demand all the more menacing.
A babble emerged from your gut accompanied by a string of desperate whimpers, none of them coherent, none of them satisfactory for Riri either. Her right hand left your bruised hip, traveling under your center, and colliding with your dripping cunt. Her ringed middle finger found your swollen clit and swiftly began its assault. “I know you heard me mami, did you miss me?”
“Yes! Yes I m-missed you!” You gurgled up your response, but it seemed to please her. She placed a hot palm at the base of your spine, rocking into you with low grunts of her own. It wasn't hard to guess what she was doing, you didn't need to lift your head from the sheets to know. Your girlfriend was fond of watching herself work you. Riri enjoyed seeing her strap glide through your folds. She loved pushing in deep until the base hit your ass, witnessing your hole devour the toy before her eyes.
Your clench mesmerized her, and the emergence, that was her favorite part. It left her in awe every single time, the way your pussy would spit the dildo back out covered in all your creamy juices. And you were certain she was doing that now, allowing herself to be amazed by the way you performed for her as if she'd given you a choice in the matter.
“Shit, look at you baby.” She pulled out, slapping the strap against your sopping core, and kneaded your butt roughly. It made you wince, you were already so tired, it wouldn't be long before your legs gave out. “I know this pretty pussy missed me.”
You whined, allowing her to dig deeper into you. Salty tears were spilling from your sockets, dampening the pillows stuffed in your face and you could taste the flowers clinging to you. Wails made your mouth open wider; every sound you released was a cry for more. More of her touch, more of her stretch. More. More. More.
“M-missed you s’much!” Your head lifted only slightly to regard her before your teeth sunk into the tear-stained pillows once more. Riri knew you wouldn't last much longer, but she loved pushing you far, and you were certain that's where the night was headed.
“Yeah? You gon show me how much mami? Show me how much you missed me.” She let your hips go and you couldn't help your sigh of relief. Riri’s hold on your waist was firm, she was immensely strong for her size, and months apart had helped you forget just how strong. The pressure from her grip and the pressure from her thrusts were too immense when combined.
She pushed your back down, somehow managing to bury you deeper into the linens. Your arch was sharp, almost spine cracking as you began to throw your ass back for her. She let you take control, allowed you to slam against her abdomen over and over. This, the image of your flesh jiggling for her, was another one of her favorites.
“That's it mamas, go crazy on that dick for me, just like that. Shit.” A hard smack to your ass made you scream out and another one made you clench around her. You paused, needing a second to recuperate. “Keep going, I ain't tell you to stop.”
She spanked you again, this one harder, punishing. It didn't derail you though, and she cooed praises into your back. You continued rocking yourself up and down the shaft of the dildo, making your ass jump each time. Your thighs quivered and your knees felt like they were sinking, sinking deeper into the mattress as you fucked yourself on the length of her.
Another hard hit vibrated through you and your body spasmed, “Ahh!”
“What you screaming for pretty? You want me to do it again?” Riri did not wait for a response, and you hadn't expected her to, this was her normal. She smacked your ass again, this time squeezing before she let go. Your clench was involuntary, it grew stronger the closer you got to a release and the tingling in your toes let you know you weren't far off.
You bounced back on her again, this time sloppier as you screeched. “Fuck, baby I'm so close.”
“I know. Keep going.” Fingers found your clit again and you were sure the entire floor heard your cry. She pressed her front onto your sweaty back as she rubbed your bud harshly. Your eyes rolled and spit bubbled from your mouth, mixing with your warm tears. She did this to you every time. Long distance was hard, going to school in different states was hard, but the way she fucked you like a mad woman when reunited made it worth it. It was all worth it in the end.
You groaned, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in attempts to alleviate some intensity. You worked her still and Riri continued to electrify your body with spank after spank. “Baby I'm gonna come!”
“Not until I say so.” Riri pulled her hands from your sore pussy and you listened for the suck, her hum at the taste of you, and the soft pop from her slipping her fingers out her mouth. It made you smile some, every time without fail.
Those same hands were on your aching hips again, snatching, squeezing and you relinquished control of your body, surrendering your exasperated form over to her with ease. Her hips snapped into you with fierce precision, not caring about your screams or your whines. She was fucking you how she wanted and you would just have to take it. Her chains clinked, knocking into each other like the way she knocked into you. Your pussy clamped around her, firm and unrelenting in its ridgid hold and she chuckled darkly.
You were aware this made her task all the more tedious, the task of ramming into you at the speed she desired, but you were also privy to her enjoyment. “Fuck baby, you know I love when you do that shit.”
The tip of the strap crashed into your g-spot, ripping a breathy howl from your depths and it was then that your knees gave out entirely. You prepared for the fall, to have your body plummet into the soaked and rumpled comforter, but that occurrence never came. Instead, Riri’s arm slung under your stomach and she held you up, fucking you all the while. "Riri, please!"
“Yeah, go head and come for me ma.”
Your eyes fluttered shut as you permitted your stifling orgasm to swim through you. There was a scream, one that rawed your throat. You remembered a huff of air leaving your body when you came, soft pecks trailing your spine, and the caring way Riri eased out of your hole. Cum leaked from you, you felt it, it was everywhere. You were barely breathing, barely conscious when Riri’s tongue darted into your cunt.
“Wait, Ri, baby wait.” You were shivering, you tried your best to crawl away, but it was no use. You lacked the strength, the stamina.
She clutched your thighs, pulled your ass up, and kept your face down on the bed. Foolish, that's what you thought. You were foolish to believe for a second that she was finished with you. “Nah, don't run. What you running for?”
She slurped your cum hungrily and your extensive wetness echoed throughout the hotel room. You hadn't the strength to moan for her, only expelling quiet little whimpers. Her tongue circled your hole continuously and you shook. Your poor clit, so sore, so used. Riri sucked it gently, in what you assumed was her way of easing up. You backed your ass into her face unconsciously and her lips let your folds go to laugh.
“Riri… I–”
“Lay down mami, lemme take care of you. I just need one more, you can do that for me right?”
Once on your back, you gave her a tired nod, barely able to hold your eyes open.
Riri kissed your sticky pussy, lapping at the cum seeping from you. “You so damn messy baby, fuck look at all this.” She kissed your inner thigh, tongue dragging along the streaks of wetness there.
You whined in response, pressing fingers into her silky black durag, trailing them along the dips and dents of her braids underneath. Your bruised hips jerked as you bucked into her mouth and she hummed, sucking your clit harder. Wiggling out of her hands had never worked for you in the past, but you tried it still.
Her smile, there it was, that's why you did it. That conniving smile was why you tried escaping her, because you knew she took pride in your inability to. She was condescending about it, cocky, and you loved it.
She pushed her way inside you again, and the coolness of her rings made you hiss. The sensation was soothing in a way, it was sort of what your hole needed. You needed something icy in the area, something to pamper the soreness. “You doing so fucking good for me. Almost done, okay?”
Another nod, this one less convincing than the first. If you were being honest, you weren't sure your body could hold still to consciousness if you came again. But you would try, you would try for Riri. Her digits curled inside you and you twitched. “C-close.”
She bobbed her head, but her speed didn't increase. Her thrusts were easy, loving. They diverted every sensation you were feeling to a center point, connecting and tangling them together. There were knots being tied for the sole purpose of breaking, unraveling. Your breathing picked up and you could feel every bead of sweat that formed on your body. They rolled down your back, your shoulders, in between your curves and rolls. They sped up with each heave of your chest, tensing your knots, testing their limits.
“Fuck! Right there Ri baby!” You lurched off the bed, grinding deep on to her working fingers.
“That's the spot mamas, hmm? Right here?” Riri slammed into your sensitive nerves over and over until you were bawling her name. Fractured, weak, tired. Your voice crawled out of your raw throat fractured, weak, and tired. It hurt to moan, but you did it anyway. Ecstasy surged through you like a strong current, threatening to yank you underwater as you came again.
Lucidity slipped away from you the moment Riri’s lips met your tender hips, placing soft pecks along your gorgeous blemishes. “These gon be there for a minute, I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.” You managed to croak out and she pulled you into her arms. Riri kissed your temple whilst rocking you from side to side to calm you. “I-I’m glad you're here, missed y-you. Love you.”
“I love you too. I'm right here baby, I'm not going nowhere.”
You tilted your head, peering up at her through sleepy lids, tugging on her necklace to get her attention. Riri’s eyes met your face and her smile was instant, she knew what you wanted.
She leaned in, pressing her lips to yours carefully, considerately. The kiss was quick, but it was exactly the thing you needed. The gentleness of it, the affection that powered it was the last thing you felt before the lastings of your release made good on its promise to pull you into a deep sleep.
summary: motherhood was a thing you craved, your dream being to carry and give birth to your own children. you wanted a family, a wife, maybe a cat. meeting shuri gave you love, marrying her gave you a family, though your body still housed the desire to carry a life. your heart condition hindered this, however, and so did shuri's apprehension.
word count: 16.5k (look...)
contains: fluff to ANGST, lots of feels, pregnancy complications, miscarriage, mentions of blood (i wasn't descriptive with it though), medical issues, MAJOR character death (yours), shuri loves her wife y'all like she LOVESSSS her wife so so much poor baby, bittersweet ending(ish), implied nsfw stuff
note: this is inspired by a book i read recently, before the coffee gets cold. that book really kinda destroyed me so i thought i would destroy y'all in return, as usual, i got carried away. y'all just gon have to bare with me on this one fr, like we going on this journey together. y'all better read this cause i put my pussy into this and i'm very proud of it, and i had to get this idea out of my head. it's probably the only piece of angst y'all will get outta me. but i hope youse enjoy still and i hope you shed a tear. shouts out to oomf for translations! mwah mwah!!
translations: my other half - bambo’lwami, my person - mtuwam (all other translations are in the text)
Shuri exhaled, plummeting beside your perspiring form to admire your nakedness under the moonlight. A mellow breeze danced its way into your bedroom and past your curtains through open balcony doors, bringing with it the captivating aroma of dewy night. Their tango you were accustomed to; Shuri grew attached to the act of making love to you as the stars watched and the city listened.
Examining the aftermath of her handy work was also a thing she enjoyed, and she harbored no shame in doing so. Blown brown eyes scanned you keenly, taking in the pretty blemishes her mouth sketched into your flesh. Your breathlessness left her in awe, though you still noted the flash of concern in her eyes, as you always did, and it flamed your damp skin the longer she stared.
Her gaze still made you blush, even after all this time; she held this practiced way of not only looking at you, but peering deep within you as well. Her eyes inspected your innards in the most intimate of ways, seeing all that you were, and everything you wished to be. You loved it, being so wholly known by your love, but the action was never lacking intensity.
Shuri knew this, and she undoubtedly basked in her ability to rattle you so.
“What?” You huffed a soft giggle, unable to lay still under her continued scrutiny, and she grinned knowingly. That same grin she housed for you alone. Shuri kept it hidden from others, only ever bringing it out when in your presence. To be marveled at by the Princess — a thing of fantasies — but this fantasy was your reality.
Her lips met your sweaty temple, pressing in for longer than usual. “Let's have a baby.”
Words, and their syllables alike, knew you no longer as you gaped at your beloved in utter disbelief. “A-A baby?”
“Yes.” She brushed a stray curl from your eyes.
You blinked. Months had trekked by of you begging Shuri tirelessly for the same thing she'd just casually requested. Months of you not so subtly dropping hints: “accidentally” ending up in the children's section at the store, admiring the tiny onesies and tiny booties. Shuri always located you with ease when you wandered off, even without checking your location on her Kimoyo beads.
“We’d be amazing mothers, no?” You’d suggest, smiling big when her curls inevitably popped into the aisle. She never responded, only ever shaking her head with a soft chuckle before beckoning you along as you pouted.
It was not a thing she opted to voice out loud, and she never had to. Shuri’s apprehension was a tangible thing. A clogger of time, of space, and of your air. The force of her unrest was sometimes enough to stifle your arguments whenever the pair of you ended up on the topic of expanding your family beyond you and your kitten.
Shuri's trepidation was in no way unwarranted though. Your long-standing dream to carry and give birth to your own children was one met with support from your wife; she knew what you yearned for, however, the complications that could accompany pregnancy were where all her focus resided, given your heart condition.
It was a woe weighing heavy on her mind. Denying you was never an easy task, it was not one she was particularly fond of either, but she refused to compromise your health.
Even still, she always managed to tiptoe around the topic and it irked you, especially considering you were aware a family was also something she wanted with you. Apprehension about your health fueled her resistance, but there was no denying she held out even more due to the loss of her own loved ones. Her baba and her brother; grief marred her mind, and the prospect of losing you as well was not one she readily entertained.
Understandably so, which was why her declaration jarred you. It had never been like her to spearhead the conversation of a child, that was always your doing.
“You better not be joking with me, my love. It will not end well for you.” You narrowed your eyes at her in the dim room.
“I’m not. I know it's your dream, and I want all of your dreams to come to pass.” She sported a concrete grin, this was her way of cementing her decree. Shuri was not lying. This was not one of her ruses.
Her easy way of adorning you with reassuring words would forever be a thing you refused to grow used to. “How long have you been thinking about this one my love?”
Shuri laughed, trying, and failing to conceal a blush as she bit her lip, “Can I be honest?”
“Please.”
“I hadn't really thought about it. Not seriously anyway, or at least not about doing it in the way you want until moments ago.”
Your smirk grew and she shied away. “You mean just then? When you were inside of me?”
“Don't say it like that please, ugh. I can change my mind, you know?” Shuri turned away from you then, shoving her face deep into her pillow to hide the embarrassment covering her cheeks.
“Oh, you are so cute! You want to get me pregnant, Princess?”
She groaned when you tugged her jaw to face you. “Will you stop it? I'm begging, you're making me sound like a pervert. I just want to have a baby with my wife, Bast!”
You giggled, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before nuzzling into her bare chest. You listened for her heartbeat, the stuttering thump of it, and the corners of your lips curled against her body. The rattling inside her was uneven — it was erratic and irregular as it often was after sex. Yours was like that, more so than Shuri's, more so than anyones. You loved it because it gave you a fraction of normalcy. How could your own heart be faulty if your wife’s beat similarly?
“So, you would like to have a baby with me?” You questioned, surveying her deeply and she nodded.
Shuri cupped your face, swatting away a rogue tear that made a home for itself under your left eye with the pad of her thumb. She hoisted her digit to her lips, sucking sweetly on the droplet and you gasped. “Yes.”
“A baby I will carry.”
She nodded again, “A baby you shall carry, my love.”
“Shuri… you know how badly I want this. You know how long I have wished–”
She placed her delicate lips on yours, catching you off guard, but you dissolved into it all the same. “We are one,” A warm palm pressed itself into your ever-jumping chest, and she lifted your own to hers. “Our hearts beat as one. I want what you want, our wishes are the same. So, have a baby with me, beloved. Hmm?”
A grin bright enough to outshine the moon and her glimmering children plastered itself onto your face. “Okay.”
Shuri’s laugh resounded, and so did your giggles as she kissed you all over. Her lips brushed all of you: Cheeks and lips. Neck and chest. She licked a long line down your abdomen, sucking your hips as a final pit stop before her tongue found your drenched core for the umpteenth time that night. And you gave her what she wanted, fingers tangling in her hair as gorgeous cries crept out your depths from the sweet sweet sensation of your wife devouring you entirely.
•••
Shuri skipped excitedly down the brightly lit hospital hallway alongside her brother, braids swaying to and fro with enthusiasm that rivaled her own. The Princess's smile was one to be awed at. Experiencing thrill inside walls such as the ones surrounding them now was not a typical occurrence, but for the young genius, her current environment was one of familiarity.
Plucking Shuri from her permanent post down in her lab always proved to be tricky, the act requiring a certain type of finesse, the type only her big brother possessed. He completed the task with ease and always on the first try. T’challa also held awareness of his sister's unyielding passion to help those who she could, and he took advantage of that more frequently than he would ever be willing to admit.
An abundance of the technology being used inside the building came alive first, in her lab, and Shuri could unabashedly affirm it excited her to see her creations be put to use in the way she and her team intended. T’challa knew this about his sister, and it was this very knowledge that convinced the teenage girl to accompany him on his monthly visit to Wakanda’s Medical Center.
Typically, this was a journey made by him and Nakia, an activity cherished by them both. But, Nakia happened to be otherwise preoccupied with the planning of her next mission, and she encouraged her beloved to have his sister tag along in her place.
So here he was, strolling casually beside his dearest little sister, shaking his head playfully at the joy her body housed.
He smiled as he peered over at Shuri, “If I didn't know any better, I would say you little sister, are delighted to be here.”
Shuri bobbed her head in agreement, “I am.”
“I don't think the patients in this hospital would take too kindly to your chipper demeanor, especially considering some of them are not likely to make it. We are here only to offer comfort and compassion to those who may need it. We aren't here for games, Shuri.”
Shuri rolled her eyes at her brother’s statement as she strode ahead of him. “So serious all the time brother. I’m delighted to help, that is what I meant.”
He nodded when Shuri tossed a glance over her shoulder, swallowing his laughter as they began their rounds.
After an hour, the Princess found herself growing bored of the way her brother chose to do things, so, to no one's surprise, she wandered. Shuri explored various wings of the hospital, most of which were plagued by the crushing weight of melancholy. She did not enjoy this, but it was to be expected, and she did what she could to ease the minds of those who were open to her brand of comfort, patients and their families alike.
She couldn't help but scoff at the thought of her brother's impending I told you so; she knew it was underway once he caught wind of her excursions.
The maternity ward carried a different feel than the ones she'd previously traveled to though. There was a sense of hope residing there, a semblance of love for new life, and this, she appreciated. Shuri stood in front of the glass window, peering at the newborn babies behind it and she couldn't fight her growing smile. The Princess valued new life; new life came with the potential for greatness, this was an ideal bestowed upon her by her big brother, and it was an ideal she held in high regard
Amidst her admiration, the brush of a presence crept up beside her, and with this presence came the aroma of watermelon and something minty that she could not pinpoint. The scent combination was heady though, and it pulled on her attention.
Shuri’s gaze shifted from the babies to the body of a girl standing impossibly close to her. This puzzled her, because they were the only two in front of the window, there was enough room for each of them to stand comfortably apart. She grew amused at the sight, the girl was on her tippy toes as she peered beyond the glass, totally compelled by the babbling infants and their squirming. It was quite cute, to say the least, and the Princess’s intrigue began to bustle.
Brown eyes scanned the girl: a white gown draped her body, stopping right above her ankles, and the Princess smiled softly at the cute fuzzy socks covering her feet; they were black and white, and seemed to mirror the cartoon image of panda’s. A large puff sat still atop her head, perfectly round and kinky and adorably messy. Her complexion was a little washed, but the deepness of her skin’s brown still shone through resiliently, robbing the Princess of the air she once breathed.
Shuri had never witnessed eyes so shiny, so striking. They studied the babies with love and something she could only read as want. The girl before her, wore beauty so gracefully, as though she was crafted to stun. And she stunned Shuri, she left every last one of her nerves shot.
She understood now, T’challa’s tendency to freeze each time he looked at Nakia, because Shuri was indeed frozen.
Her feet resisted movement, and despite each of her efforts to pick them up, her sneakers remained frosted to the vinyl flooring. Shuri's lips hung agape and her eyes bulged as she watched the girl. Her heart, oh her poor wayward heart, it smacked against her chest so violently, one would think they were at odds and her internal organs were plotting a coup.
And when this majestic girl smiled, it reached her eyes and they beamed brighter, which the Princess did not think was a thing of possibility. Shuri was certain there was no smile that could ever compare to the one she gawked at now. It was warm, and enough to melt the frost keeping her frozen in place.
“Would you like to know why I adore babies so much, Princess?” Her voice was a song, one she sang sweetly as she clung to the cool metal of her IV pole. Shuri, like many others, was an enjoyer of good music, and this melody bleeding from pretty lips had now made itself her most favorite of all.
What were words? Shuri thought as she coursed her brain for a response to the question she was just asked. Her mouth moved, but Shuri only heard the deafening rattle of her heart inside her burning ears, so she opted for a weak nod, praying desperately that it would suffice for this beauty before her.
“It is easy to fall in love with them,” She drawled, and if the Princess was slightly more coherent, she would have noticed the way this girl scooted closer to her person. “They love you automatically, and once you realize this, that this tiny human loves you and needs you, it isn't hard to reciprocate that love.”
Shuri nodded again, still chasing after words, still gaping in wonder. This girl was wondrous, she'd discerned.
“I think it speaks to the simplicity of life, or rather the simplicity life could potentially hold. I think it makes the act of loving, simpler as well. Won’t you agree, Princess?” She hadn't turned to face Shuri as she spoke, not once; her pretty eyes were left locked on the newborns she adored so wholly the entire while, and this served to heighten Shuri’s fascination.
She bobbed her head once more with an ever-muddled mind, consuming the poetic tone in which this girl spoke, committing each syllable to memory. This feeling wasn't one she could not recognize. She understood it completely; Shuri was enamored by this girl and her presence. But the sensation remained foreign still, and the rapidness in which it arrived was not a speed she was accustomed to, nor was it one she'd anticipated.
The girl turned finally, glancing at the Princess briefly before returning her focus to the babies, and Shuri noted their shoulders were now pressed into each other. The pressure was magnificent, one she wanted to know forever.
“Bye.” One word and she was off, and so was her touch. The only thing left in her wake was the smell she carried with her. Shuri found herself appreciating the remnants of the aroma, like it was a gift this girl awarded to her, a gift she would cherish for as long as she was allowed.
She inhaled the scent, smiling faintly to herself before muttering, “Bye…”
The girl’s form was long gone at that point, but her likeness lingered, in the air and inside of the Princess.
When she reunited with T’challa later that day, Shuri's smile still blared, and her brother grew curious. “Do you feel fulfilled by your visit, little sister?”
She chuckled softly, dipping her head to conceal her blush as she recalled the gorgeous girl who put it there, and how she felt it would now be a permanent part of her features. “Yes, brother. I am fulfilled.”
•••
One week. One entire week had passed following the conversation between you and Shuri about starting your family. Shuri hadn't mentioned it when she woke; she merely went about her morning routine of getting your things ready for the day as she hummed. The topic was neglected during breakfast, with Shuri placing your plate before you as she sat. She grabbed your hand, like always, diving into her plate silently.
Watching her, and anticipating her words proved useless when she stood to clear the table. She kissed your cheek on her way out the door, calling a quick I love you over her shoulder, and she was off. You realized then, that your wife's declaration couldn't have been one of sincerity, not if it had been so easy for her to avoid the subject all together the next day. And the acceptance of that hurt.
Days seeped into evenings into nights, and your body burned with the passing of time, it sizzled in irritation the longer she ignored your obvious frustration. Tonight though, you’d decided you’d had enough of the waiting, and enough of this promise that forever remained empty. The foreseeable conversation with your wife would be one that produced answers and results.
Arriving home early to cook her favorite meal as a means to lure her in and lower her guard was the plan; resisting your cooking was a tough task for Shuri, you’d learned this fairly early on in your marriage, and it became a go-to tactic of getting what you wanted out of her. Never once had it failed you, and it wouldn't tonight.
“How was your day, bambo’lwami? You seem tense.” Shuri questioned as she toyed with your hand across the dinner table, spinning the stunning silver rings adorning your ring finger mindlessly.
A manicured thumb brushed the sizable purple stone sitting pretty on your digit, and you listened for her blow of laughter. It was like clockwork, Shuri needed only a glimpse of your engagement ring to plunge herself deep within the memories from the day she proposed, and there she dwelled, for as long as you permitted her to. An endearing habit, from the most endearing woman.
Maintaining your stern attitude was proving to be an impossible task the longer you allowed your eyes to stay locked on your now entwined fingers, a break was inevitable, this you knew. “It was nice. We're on the chapter about long division now, and I was reminded I am in no way a maths person.”
“I, for one, love numbers and long division. I don't enjoy remainders though, I like my answers concise.” Shuri smiled at you; her voice gave it away.
Seeing Shuri’s face had never been necessary when assessing if she was indeed peering at you; the feel of her searing stare had been a thing you'd made yourself familiar with long ago. It held a certain intensity back then, and it's only grown in weight since the two of you were teenagers.
You let your eyes flutter up to catch hers, learning you were correct. She wore a grin, one that widened at the sight of your deep browns, and it was then that you cracked, albeit slightly. “Maybe you should come teach my students then, hmm?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Her light chuckle pulled one out of you and you bit your lip as you eyed her face. Bast, she was so beautiful, and said beauty whisked your breath away each day. Her power was immense in that way, and it shattered your facade entirely. “You're staring, lovely girl.”
You shook your head with a shy smile, “I know.”
“If there's food in my teeth, I’m blaming you.” Her laugh was louder now, and you allowed it to wash over you like rain. You imagined a little girl, whose chest housed that same booming laughter, running, and giggling across the palace floors as Shuri chased her. She would be an amazing mother, she had the heart for it, the fortitude, her patience with you told you that much.
“While we're on the topic of children…”
She made a soft curious sound in the back of her throat, something resembling a whine, and Shuri tilted her head. “Are we on the topic of children? From my understanding we were speaking about maths, and how much you suck at it.”
“I'm being serious, Shuri.” You warned, but the amusement never left her pupils.
“So am I.”
You sighed, feeling defeated before you even got a chance to begin. Shuri always managed to shift the subject with her humor, and usually, you let her because an argument would do neither of you any good. But you wouldn't bend so easily tonight, you refused to. “Shuri, do you remember what you said to me last week, when we were in bed?”
“Not entirely, no, but I'm sure it was obscene. You want to refresh my memory? Tell me what I said to you in bed, sthandwa, repeat it for me.” The seductive slur of her sentence had you squeezing your legs together, protesting her pull and the hold she had over you.
Your frustration began its bustling once more, and an exasperated sigh left your lips, “Shuri, can you please not joke? Just this once, I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.” Clearing the table silently was your only sense of solace, and you did so as your wife watched you, amused.
“You know, now that I'm thinking about it. I do recall a chat, a brief one, in between all the pretty sounds you were making for me.” She smirked, clearly seeking to rile you up, but you decided it was best not to react. Instead, you placed both your plates in the sink, turning on the faucet as you waited for her to continue. Shuri's tone of voice let you know there was more to be said, and it would be a lie to say you weren't curious about where she planned to steer this conversation.
She stood then, making her way over to you at the sink, and snaked her arms around your abdomen. Your eyes panned down to how she held you, they trained on how her inked fingers interlocked across your stomach, and you exhaled. You were tense before she touched you, all knotted up over the continuous cycle that never panned out in your favor, but you melted now — you melted for your wife. “Shuri.”
“Yes, it's coming to me now,” Shuri bent down, kissing your neck before hooking her chin over your shoulder, and you couldn't help inhaling the floral mist of her perfume. “Was there mention of us having a baby? No, that can't be right. That doesn't sound like me. Does that sound like me, sthandwa?”
“Shuri.”
When she chuckled, it vibrated through you, and the waves began to chip away at your frustration. “My love, do you really think I've forgotten our conversation?”
“No, I don't. But I do think you're avoiding the subject, like you always do.”
“If I’d been avoiding it, would I have gotten us an appointment with a fertility specialist for next week?” That sly grin of hers was back now, you could hear it in her words, feel it on your skin as her mouth moved.
You dropped the soapy plate, not caring if it shattered in the sink as you spun to face your wife. “You did what?”
“I'm sure you heard me.” And again, you were correct, the smile on her face was one of pride and it only grew the longer you gazed up at her. Something came over you then, and you smacked her, hard against her chest causing her to wince.
“Ouch!”
“That's for making me think you’d lied.”
“Have I ever lied to you, my love?” She questioned, dramatically rubbing the spot where you hit her and you rolled your eyes.
“Not that I know of.”
She softened her tone, doing away with every ounce of levity it previously held. “Then why would you assume I've lied now? That I would lie about this?”
“This is the first time we've spoken about having a child together in a week.” Meek were your words; timid and unsure as you let them tumble from your lips, and you dipped your head. But your wife was having none of that, she hoisted your chin lovingly with her pointer finger, reveling in your beauty and the shy way you bit your lip before her.
Her smile was back again, tugging along with it, a hint of mischief. “Truthfully, I was only waiting to see how long you’d go before your frustration got the better of you. A week is far longer than I predicted.”
You hit her again, and this time she laughed, causing you to mirror her action.
“Now,” Shuri kissed you deeply, tugging you toward your room. “Are you going to let me put a baby in you?”
You giggled against her mouth, allowing her to rip your blouse open hungrily as if you hadn't just fed her, and you listened for the chorus of buttons descending to and clattering on the floor. “I don't think it works that way, Shuri.”
“Care to test that hypothesis?”
•••
The gleam of Shuri’s smile reflected brightly in the window before her as she kept her eyes on the newborns she’d grown fond of watching. In all honesty, her initial return to the hospital was not entirely for them, but over the last three days, Shuri realized there was peace in observing, and they became a calming distraction as she waited.
As the minutes ticked by, she was beginning to believe her reason for showing up would not be gracing her with her presence today, and she grew impatient the longer she was made to stand alone. Pretty babies did what they could to hold her attention, but the pretty girl she'd arrived to see held the most space in her mind. Usually, the two girls would be shoulder to shoulder already, a feeling Shuri found herself chasing, one she missed on her return to the palace, and it was a sensation that slithered its way into her dreams as she slept.
When she turned to leave, the squeaking of wheels made her wince, and the noise barred her from doing so. She turned her body to face the window of babies once more, and there she was, outlined beneath all that hair floating above her head, donning it as one would a crown.
“Were you about to leave, Princess?” She didn't move, nor had she thrown a glance Shuri's way, and yet, the Princess's breath stuttered anyway, merely from listening to this girl speak.
“I-I was, but I think, I think I will stay n-now, since you're here.” Shuri was proud of herself and her ability to say words today, but she still blushed when the girl giggled at the crack in her voice towards the end of her sentence.
She nodded, gesturing for Shuri to join her, and the Princess did so excitedly. “You were waiting for me.”
“I was.” She watched the girl watch the babies, and she allowed the fire inside her chest to flicker alive. Shuri could control it, she believed in her ability to.
Silence befell the teenage girls shortly after, a comforting one, Shuri thought, one that felt like home, and she recalled something her brother said about his relationship with Nakia.
“If you are able to sit in silence with the one you love, and have it be comforting, it is likely that you’ve found your one. Their presence being enough to soothe speaks to your connection.”
She’d made fun of him then, but now, this quote became one she could not wrestle away. Had this feeling stirred awake by this girl been love? Shuri wasn't sure, she'd never been in love before. Regardless of her confusion, three things made themselves abundantly clear: the sweet mist of watermelon clinging to this girl brought her comfort, the press of their shoulders grounded her in a world where they existed alone, and her presence certainly did its part in soothing the Princess.
It startled Shuri, as she gawked at this beauty now; the notion that she could very well love this girl after only knowing her a short while, but the acceptance of the idea wasn't one she felt needed debating.
“You haven't asked me. In the three days you've visited, not once have you asked me.” The girl peered up at Shuri with amused irises and she let her curious smile slip.
Shuri's eyebrow jumped, but she matched the mirth swimming in the pretty eyes that gaped at her. “Asked you what?”
“What's wrong with me.”
“What's wrong with you?” Shuri's question was not one meant to be invasive, because the thought that something could be wrong with the girl in front of her now was never one that crossed her mind, she simply repeated what was said to her out of confusion.
“My heart hates me.”
This revelation wasn't one the Princess understood, and that spoke volumes, because there was very little that Shuri found herself unable to comprehend. How could one’s heart hate them? Organs were not sentient. But she wasn't sure that was a thing she still believed, not when her own heart seemed to be breathing and brimming with a life of its own inside her flaming sternum as she stood next to this girl.
She watched as the girl read her expression on her reflection in the glass and her giggle only served to perplex Shuri more. “What?”
“My heart, she hates me. I assumed you wanted to know what was wrong with me, why I’m here, even though you’d been too polite to ask. I was born with a weak heart.”
Personifying her heart, Shuri found this to be fitting for this girl she had grown attached to, and it made her blood rush. Understanding flushed through the Princess then, and she continued gaping at the beauty this girl housed. “I wasn't–”
“Your staring gave it away, Princess. Just as your staring now is giving away the way you're racking your brain, trying to conclude what condition I could possibly have, if there's a cure, if you can cure me.”
Did she think Shuri's staring was to gauge her ailment? Sure, she was aware there had to be reasons for her residing in a hospital, reasons she lugged an IV around, but Shuri’s focus was never on that, it was only ever on her captivating aura and the effortless way she wormed her way into her cells.
“Does a weak heart prevent you from loving?”
For the first time over the past three days, the girl turned to face Shuri, and it was more than a once-over, she allowed Shuri to capture her gaze. The Princess marveled at the swirling deep browns peering up at her now, and the awe dancing inside. The question wasn't one she'd planned to ask, but it jabbed its way out of her throat and past her lips, warranting an answer.
The girl dipped her head, and it was an action the Princess recognized all too well; she was attempting to bury a blush. “No. It does not.”
“Does a weak heart prohibit your ability to receive love?”
She gasped softly at Shuri’s question, seemingly overwhelmed by the pressing force of it, and she shook her head. Shuri’s pride blared, satisfied with this role reversal — now it was she who snatched this girl’s breath and held her words in captivity.
“So, how can you believe there is something wrong with you? How can you conclude that your heart hates you? When she has never hindered you in such ways?”
She bit her lip, admiring Shuri's face and the sincerity coloring her features. “I think you're the woman I’m going to marry.”
“You will probably spend most of your nights in my lab if you do.” Shuri snorted, smirking sweetly at the girl with wistful browns.
•••
Your skin tightened under the harsh chill of the exam room as you waited. One would think a lifetime of doctor’s visits and spending most of your teen years in and out of the very hospital you were in now, would be preparation enough for an appointment such as this one. But believing that only served to showcase your naïveté, because, despite all of your run-ins with doctors, and nurses, and hospital rooms, none of those encounters rattled your entire nervous system in this way.
Shuri’s warm palm cupped your leaping knee, settling you as she flashed you that sweet smile you loved so much. “Bambo’lwami, I can hear your heart, it’s beating too fast. You need to calm down my love.”
“Maybe I would be able to calm down if it wasn’t so damn cold in this room. Is it normal for a hospital’s temperature to feel as though we are residing in Jabariland? Bast!”
A deep chuckle rumbled from Shuri’s pretty lips, and she used them to press a kiss to your temple. “I can assure you, lovely girl, that the temperature in this room is normal. Now,” She flattened her palm against the small of your back, massaging soft circles into your spine above your top. “Inhale for me?”
You obeyed her instruction, shutting your eyes and inhaling a large gust of air through your nose.
“That’s good, my lovely girl, hold it.” Her warm fingers still traced your back, and Shuri guided you lovingly through your exhale. “Now out, nice and slow. Perfect. You did so well, and I can already hear that heart rate decreasing. Few more times for me?”
Shuri ghosted her delicate lips over yours, letting them linger for a few beats, and you sighed into her mouth. This was the final step in her plan to relax you, and it was one of success, though she hadn't seemed at all surprised by her ability to. Your nerves still wrestled with each other inside you, but the match seemed to be coming to a close now. All because of your Shuri, who read you so deeply, assessing the exact thing you needed, even when your own desires were lost on you.
Her forehead pressed to yours, and you allowed her warmth the opportunity to slither its way through you. “Dr. Chara is the top fertility specialist in the country, and she happens to be a friend. These results will be perfect, trust me when I tell you you are in good hands, great hands my love.”
“I trust you.”
Just as Shuri removed her forehead from yours, Dr. Chara reentered the exam room. It was timed so perfectly, you were certain the act was deliberate on Shuri's end.
“Molweni.” You dipped your head, smiling nervously at the gorgeous doctor before you. “How are we feeling?”
It was an unnecessary question, you thought, surely your distress painted every inch of your perspiring face, was your rapidly bouncing knee not enough to answer this question? For a doctor, she did not appear to be observant.
Shuri’s palm found your knee again, and she gripped it firmly this time. “My apologies, she's a little nervous.”
“And that's normal.” Dr. Chara addressed you directly as she perched herself on the rolling white stool in the room. “Nerves are to be expected, but I can assure you, the results from your HSG are just as your wife predicted. We detected no blockage in your fallopian tubes. Everything is functioning in the way it's supposed to.”
The sigh that escaped you was one of relief, and Shuri pecked your cheek. She’d been right, you hadn't doubted her, but solid confirmation held more weight in this instance. “So this means we can move forward with the intrauterine insemination, correct? Because I do not want her doing IVF, it's too invasive, and I refuse to put any more strain on her body. This potential pregnancy already has her heart rate and blood pressure on the climb.”
You rolled your eyes, and Dr. Chara took note of your frustration. It wasn't unlike Shuri to take the lead in this conversation, she’d done the same thing during your first appointment, and she spends most of your nights in the bedroom reciting facts about possible risks and complications that may occur when coupled with your condition. Her behavior was not to be a deterrent, this you knew; Shuri only wanted you to be equipped with enough information before any important decisions were made.
And you appreciated her efforts wholeheartedly, but at times, it pained you to admit they could be discouraging. “I'm sure Dr. Chara knows all of this already, Shuri.”
“Your wife is correct, Princess. My recommendation, given your wife's condition, and considering the results of her hysterosalpingography, would be to move forward with the IUI. Now, this could involve medication, to ensure that you are ovulating if you otherwise would not be, or a trig–”
Shuri shook her head, “There is no need for a trigger shot or medication, I can tell you exactly when her ovulatory cycle will begin.”
“Shuri.”
“No, I know your body,” She tore her intense gaze from you reluctantly, placing it on Dr. Chara. “I know her body. There is no need for unnecessary steps that hold the potential of doing more harm than good. She will begin ovulating in three days from now. And it is my understanding that the procedure takes place a day or two after that, correct?”
Dr. Chara’s eyes fluttered to yours, and she studied you, analyzing your silence in all this before flicking her tablet off. “Yes, that is correct, Princess.”
“Okay. Then we will move forward with this.”
“And does this work for your wife, Princess?” Her question was coated in something you could not decipher, though the low growl simmering in Shuri's chest made you acutely aware it was not a tone signifying partnership. The two intelligent women were in a standoff in front of you, each unwilling to falter, each believing they had your best interest at heart.
Your tug on Shuri’s wrist caused the sound to dissipate, and her hard-set eyes softened when they found you, returning to their resting hue. “Does all of this work for you, my love?”
“Shuri, do you mind if I have a moment alone with Dr. Chara?”
There was a sigh, and she glanced over at her friend before turning back to you. “Okay, I’ll wait in the lobby.”
“Thank you, mtuwam.”
Like her commanding attitude, Shuri's hesitation to leave the room was something breathable, inhaled by both you and the doctor sitting patiently before you. But eventually she departed, taking with her the stifling fog that previously clogged the room, and you exhaled.
“Sorry about…her.” You laughed awkwardly and Dr. Chara matched it with a warm smile.
“Oh, I've worked with your wife on many different occasions, I know how she gets on. But this is not about her, it is about you, and your body.”
You exhaled again, nodding as you took in the doctor's words. This was about your body.
She cleared her throat, “She may not have been exactly polite in the way she went about it, but Shuri was indeed correct about everything she said. You are familiar with the way IUI works, yes?”
“I'm familiar with Shuri's briefings, yes.”
The two of you laughed at this, and it relaxed you. You felt comfortable with this woman, good, comfortability was a huge thing for you in these situations. “And she was correct about your ovulatory cycle?”
You nodded, “Yes. I will begin ovulating in three days.”
“Perfect. Now, onto the process. Are you familiar with the process?” Dr. Chara tilted her head and her scarlet locs shifted along with her. Your reflection was visible in the lenses of her glasses and you couldn't help but feel you looked like a child: brimming with curiosity and in search of guidance.
“Yes, but a refresher wouldn't hurt.”
She grinned, “No, it would not.”
“Alright so the day that you are ovulating, you will return here, to me. Your chosen sperm sample will be cleaned… You should feel no pain during this procedure, but there could be mild discomfort from the speculum…”
You bobbed your head at each of her words, storing every sentence in your mind, every syllable. It was true that you knew a lot of this already, through Shuri, but hearing it from the person performing the procedure offered a little more piece of mind.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
You bit your lip, pondering the only question you'd ever had about all of this, “Does wanting a baby make me selfish?”
“Why would wanting a baby be selfish?”
You shook your head, “With everything considered. My heart, the risks, the stress. I can't help but feel I'm being selfish.”
“Your body is powerful. Do you agree with that?”
“Ewe.” (yes)
She continued, “Life is precious. Choosing to use the precious life that was breathed into you to bring another into this world is not a decision made lightly, particularly in your case. But you know your body, it is powerful, as you've said. It's powerful, and it is yours. Now, I'm not certain this answers your question, but it's all I've got.”
You let a wet laugh escape you as you heeded her words: Your body was powerful, and it was yours.
•••
“Do you often picture your future, Princess?” She laid on her side, hands clasped beneath her cheek as she admired Shuri, who in turn, admired her. The Princess nestled deeper into the hospital sheets, stroking the girl’s side gently with the simple goal of making her shudder beneath her touch.
Shuri waited a beat before offering up a response, she waited for the inevitable shiver from the girl before her, and she spoke only after witnessing her forearms prickle under protruding goosebumps. “I picture my future with you in it. You are the only construct my mind creates when I think of what’s to come.”
“Princess…” She giggled, and it brought about Shuri’s grin. She enjoyed the feeling, the one that followed each time she made her beautiful girl blush.
Fingers climbed her sides, her arms, stopping on her chubby cheek, and Shuri marveled at the deepness of her glowing skin before caressing her face entirely. “It's true. I never want to know a life without you in it, I never wish to frame an image that doesn't house your face, lovely girl.”
“Speak this promise of a future together into my heart, Princess. Remind her that we've found yet another reason to continue our fight.”
And that she did. A heated palm pushed into her girl's chest, gentle, but willfully firm, and she shook under the collision. “Give me this,” Shuri instructed, reaching for her girl's moisturized hand, and she inhaled the intoxicating whiff of watermelon and mint she so proudly got drunk on before pressing the smaller palm up against her own heart.
“Do you feel that? My heartbeat?” The girl inhaled sharply, eyes sinking into Shuri's face as she bobbed her head. “It beats this way because of you.”
“And my own stammers because of you, Princess.”
Shuri giggled at this, and she proudly wore her blush this time, no longer ashamed of the desperation brought to life by this gorgeous girl. “So. Our hearts beat as one, it seems.”
“Seems that they do.”
A soft kiss was planted directly on the back of her girl's hand; Shuri was devious with the action, letting her lips linger, and studying the way in which her girl squirmed from the simple brush of affection. “Now what are these other reasons for your continued fight? Perhaps I can assist with those as well.”
“Well, Princess, babies of course!” And out came that smile, the one that rayed like the Sun, turning every cell in Shuri's body into complete mush as she melted for her love.
“Ah yes. You are quite fond of babies.”
•••
Waiting. Not an activity you were partial to, but fortunately, you were no stranger to it — your virtuous patience developed against your will, but it was a tool utilized fully now. Two weeks, Dr. Chara instructed you to wait two weeks post-procedure before returning for an HCG blood test or before taking an at-home pregnancy test.
Waiting ceased to be an issue…for you.
For your wife, however, the word itself took on a completely different meaning. One would think, as a scientist, as someone who understood the process of creating new life, Shuri of all people would be the calmest. Or at the very least one would assume she would offer the most reassurance, but reality did not mirror your thoughts.
She became erratic, her impatience morphing into something palpable and muggy, resulting in the deed of centering falling on your shoulders. Not only did you have to monitor your own body; monitoring Shuri's became your responsibility as well. A task that was your normal on any other day, a task you happily completed, but the course of the past few days birthed something entirely different from her usual mannerisms.
Shuri arrived home late most nights, she ate at odd hours, and it was apparent she'd been holding her tongue on certain topics. She still held you close each night though, offering you her warmth, the heat you craved. But questioning her about her distance was difficult, because Shuri was usually out the door before you woke in the mornings.
Trapping her, like one would a rat, seemed to be your only option. So you made your way to her lab in the dead of night, not at all surprised to see Shuri alone in the dim space, sporting an exhausted expression as she worked on a concoction. The early days of your marriage were spent here, with you admiring her, and learning how her brain worked up close.
“Princess, your wife has arrived.” She spun at the roar of the AI’s voice, her knotted features relaxing and morphing into a broad smile at the sight of you stepping off the elevator.
“Hello, my lovely girl.” Shuri pulled you in, looping her arms around your waist and you hugged her back, inhaling her perfume on command. She kissed you briefly, and you found yourself chasing the press of her lips on yours, wanting more of her, all of her.
“Shuri, do you know what time it is?”
She moved back to her work, zoning out partially before awarding you with an answer. “Uh, a little after two in the morning.”
“You know this, and yet you aren't–” She zoomed past you, dashing from one station to the next, and you observed the frantic way in which her hands moved. “And yet you aren't at home in bed.”
“I’ll be done here shortly, you're welcome to wait.”
You sighed, ordering your heart to steady. Shuri hadn't seemed to notice the strain in your words, but the thumping in your chest, that, you knew she was privy to.
“Shuri.”
As the pounding increased, her motions ceased, and she turned to face you. “My love, your hear–”
“Shuri, you knew.”
She approached you in seconds, attempting to ease you into your breathing exercises as she shook her head in confusion. “Knew what? Breathe, my love, breathe.”
“You knew, Shuri. That’s why y-you..” Your exhale bloomed out of you jaggedly, nipping at the back of your throat, and you greeted the pain it brought about as a gracious host would.
“Bambo’lwami, please breathe with me.” Accepting her palm on your back and the circles she rubbed into you seemed like a joke now, because all this time she'd been lying to you.
This realization caused you to shrug from her hold, and frantic eyes scanned your form. “I'm not pregnant, Shuri.”
“No.” She sighed in front of you, granting permission to the deepest of frowns, allowing it to nestle into her face, her beautiful face. “You aren't.”
You gasped. Not a question, but a matter-of-fact statement, confirming your suspicion. “How long? How long have you known?”
“I sensed the shift in your hormones about four days ago.”
“Lying to me for four days and allowing me to believe there was still a chance, instead of being truthful and consoling me. Is this the way we do things in this marriage, Shuri? We lie? We keep secrets?”
Shuri’s attempt to reach for you was not one you allowed, you shoved her away angrily, and she flinched. The hurt on her face you decoded swiftly; never had you denied her touch, and if her expression was to be an indication, not having access to your body did not settle inside her well. “Secrets about my body, Shuri. Mine.”
She stepped toward you once more, desperate arms outstretched, but again, you rejected her. “Let me explain, cela.” (please)
“Was this a joke to you, Shuri?”
Shuri charged to you now, despite your protests, cupping your face with both palms as you wept. Your tears were being flicked away at the same speed in which they arrived, and Shuri pressed your foreheads together. “Nothing about your health is a joke to me, my love.”
“Then why keep this from me?”
She huffed a wet breath, neglecting her own streaming eyes so she could focus on yours. “Disappointing you, hurting you like this, wasn't something I saw myself able to do. But, ultimately I did so anyway. Because here you are, crying, as a result of my actions. Irony is fickle in that way.”
“You should've told me, Shuri.”
“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. Bast, I'm so sorry, lovely girl.” She kissed you, and you allowed it, because her lips could very well be the only thing able to hold your pieces together right now. You imagined falling apart, envisioned letting yourself shatter altogether.
This outcome hadn't been one wrapped in surprise, nor was it an uncommon one. Dr. Chara had explained the success rate of your procedure, she’d given you the percentages, and while they weren't the highest, you extended an olive branch to hope, pleading for at the very least, a tug of friendship between you both. She remained a finicky thing, your friend Hope — taking, sucking, bleeding you dry — leaving you forever drained with very little fight left in you.
“I’m going home, Shuri.” And as you turned to exit, your wife captured your hand, holding tightly to it, as though her very existence were tangled in your tremoring palm. Shuri grew fearful, you realized, as you peered into her deep eyes, fearful that allowing you to leave without following behind would result in her never seeing you again. An irrational belief, you were sure she too knew this, but rationale no longer resided within your wife. Not after she’d witnessed you in tears, tears that still flooded your face, tears that emerged from her deception.
Shuri squeezed your digits, giving you a weak smile. “I'm coming with you.”
Once in bed, snuggled tightly in her arms, you relinquished your body to her, and frustration knew you no more. Truthfully you’d known the entire time; most of your frustration was not directed at your wife, but too much of it had been aimed at your body, too much of it had been aimed toward your battered heart.
She kissed your temple as she rocked you, craving nothing more than to relay comfort, wanting only to ease your mind, and it was then that you allowed your words to fly free from your throat. “I want to try again.”
Shuri hummed, watching your curtains sway in the breeze as she tucked your pretty head beneath her chin, allowing only a single tear to fall for you. “I want what you want, my love.”
•••
“Shuri look at it, I can't do it,” You shielded your eyes, nerves rattling as you awaited the results of the pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom counter before you and your wife. “No, wait! Don't look!”
She giggled beside you, clearly elated by the sheer joy you exuded. “It doesn't matter if I look, my love, I’ve already told you that you are indeed pregnant.”
“But how do you know? You don't know!”
The brush of her tender lips on your neck iced your body, and when Shuri’s fingers grazed your stomach, a shiver flooded your spine. “I know your body,” She inhaled your scent. “And this body, this perfect body of yours, has a baby inside of it. Well, it wouldn't be entirely human yet. The brain is probably forming, and a head, a mangled-looking face, maybe tiny little holes that will result in nostrils, eventually. Also, there's a heartbeat, and–”
“Shuri.”
“I'm just saying. You are pregnant, you're going to have a baby, my love.”
You grinned, finally confident enough to glance at the pregnancy test, and a gasp flung itself out of your mouth. “It's positive… Shuri, I’m–”
“You're pregnant, sthandwa, yes.” Her grin crept sweetly to her lips, lips that you crashed your own into for a heated kiss, leaping onto her, and wrapping your legs around her waist. Shuri giggled against your mouth as she held you, stumbling backward under the press of many harsh pecks to her cheeks, her neck, her nose; she found herself needing to shut her eyes, because you kissed her there too.
The backs of her shins hit the bed, and she plummeted, pulling you all the way down with her. “Shuri.”
“Yes?” Her hands kneaded your thick thighs as you straddled her abdomen, and radiance lived within her smile. Her delight was a result of your own, because she loved you, and said love would exist forever as Shuri’s greatest superpower. Her Panther gifts were nothing comparable.
“We're going to be mamas!” You squealed, bending forward to kiss her passionately, and the longer she sucked on your tongue, the faster your need for her grew. It bustled in your depths, coming alive the second Shuri slipped a hand under your panties.
She hiked up your sleep shirt, tugging slightly on your waistband with a smirk that made your core throb. “Seems that we are.”
•••
“Now,” Dr. Chara began cautiously, and that singular word thickened your air; something wasn't right. Typically, her voice cascaded down on you with the grace of water flowing from heavenly falls, today though, her falls seemed to have run dry, and her words were brittle. “I have received the results from your ultrasound...”
Your prolonged silence stirred up a myriad of emotions, and a spinning mind wasted no time leaping off the nearest cliff, diving head-first into the rapids of worst possible scenarios. And of course, Shuri, who stood confidently beside you, picked up on your shift in mood.
“As of right now, there was no heartbeat detected. But I do not want to jump to conclusions, sometimes–”
Shuri interjected, her expanding anger becoming a stifler, and like your mind’s rapids, you fully prepared to let it pull you under. “What do you mean there’s no heartbeat detected? Are you saying there is something wrong with the baby?”
“Princess, sometimes a heartbeat is not always detected this early on in the preg–”
She shook her head, unable to accept her friend's words, “There was a heartbeat yesterday, and the day before that. How is there not one now?”
“Princess, if you would let me explain instead of continuously cutting me off, you would understand that this is exactly why I am refraining from declaring this a miscarriage.”
A miscarriage. Your heart could not support this pregnancy. Your breakfast threatened a rise at the thought, and you laughed dryly. Yet another thing your body was unable to maintain. At some point you zoned out, completely muffling the heated exchange between your wife and your doctor.
You blinked, and you were on your feet, with no recollection of standing, and you staggered out of the exam room, no doubt with Shuri in pursuit. “My love…”
“I-I can't be here, Shuri. I can't.” You were hot, and you were cold, shuddering under the warmth of your sweat and your unmanageable tears.
Shuri pulled you to her chest, instinctively coaching your breathing, but it was useless, and she knew it. “She hasn't made any decisions just yet, let's just–”
“Can you honestly tell me that you believe everything is alright inside me? Do you hear a heartbeat?”
Shuri sighed, shutting her eyes tight, pinning her forehead to yours and her palm found your pumping heart. “I hear yours. I hear my own. That's all that matters to me right now.”
“How can you say that?” You backed away, rattling your wife with the abruptness, her eyes darting around wildly, searching tirelessly for her misdeed. “Shuri, we just lost our baby…”
“I just want you to be alright, my love.” Sobs flew every which way, people were beginning to stare, you didn't care though, and you did nothing to conceal your tears.
“I just lost my baby, Shuri. I am not alright.”
Pain crept up on you in the dark of night, diabolically demonic in his arrival, as he unveiled the unwanted guest assisting him with the burglary of your body: A gut-wrenching scream, one that startled the yellow-eyed black cat slumbering soundly at the foot of your bed. It woke Shuri too, and she shot to your side faster than a bullet.
“Talk to me, bambo’lwami, what do you need? Tell me.”
“Bathroom…” The only word your lips could splutter amidst the unyielding agony slithering through your abdomen, down to your thighs. Shuri nodded, already sobbing at the sight and sound of you writhing as she lugged your body to the bathroom, shakily placing you on the toilet.
Your muscles coiled; tightened; preparing to snap with each throat-rawing wail. The haste in which your bleeding accelerated knew no bounds as you rocked yourself atop the toilet seat, blistering tears racing their way down your scrunched face. Shuri kneeled before you, bawling as you did, trying her hardest to soothe, though the two of you knew your experience now was not one she could so easily quell.
“Tell me what to do! What can I do? Ndicela undyiyekhe ndikuncede!” (please let me help you)
Eyes hammered shut, knuckles whitening, you shook your head, and it was a reaction Shuri read as a refusal of aid. “My love, Ndicela.” (please)
Finding words to articulate exactly what you needed from her was the most difficult job you were tasked with. You knew you only needed her near, but you could not convey this want, and Shuri grew antsy. Standing idly by, unable to ease your anguish was a rattling fear your wife had, and here she sat, drenched in tears and steeped in your blood, watching her worst nightmare come to fruition.
Hours ticked by, yet still, you remained uneasy. You’d taken to inching around the bathroom floor on your hands and knees, on the prowl for relief, finding it only briefly in a facing down fetal position as your rock-hard uterus continued its assault on your fibers.
Shuri had stepped out of the bathroom for a brief moment, upon your request for ice, though she felt disinclined to follow your orders. You knew she listened still, undoubtedly honing in with those heightened abilities of hers. Your frail figure crawled to the shower, turning it on with plans of climbing in. Your hope was that the steamy water would offer some relief, you were desperate for it, and you would accept it in any capacity.
Scorching droplets pelted your quivering frame as you pulled your knees to your chest and allowed salty tears to mix with water. Though warm, the pressure of the shower still made you tremble, but the act seemed to work somehow. Shuri returned soon after, a frown setting her face as she took in the scene of you practically drowning yourself before her. She climbed in behind you, fully clothed, and held you. Shuri allowed you to break completely in her embrace, encouraging your unravel.
She swayed you from side to side, permitting her heart to crack a little at the sound of your meek whimpers as you buried your face into her soaked neck.
“Umzimba wam akandithandi?” (why does my body hate me?)
“Oh, my lovely girl…” She sniffled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, not knowing if her lips brushed water or tear droplets, though their mingling made them one and the same now.
“I do everything right, Shuri. Why am I never enough? Why is my heart not enough? I keep hoping that it can be, I hope that it will be, but it never is.” Your words emerged shattered, and you chewed on the shards they left behind in your mouth, allowing your pain to find a new focal point as your throat blazed.
This made you ponder your relationship with hope once more: Was she not an entity capable of breeding only eternal misery? Hadn't all your rendezvous with her produced outcomes such as these? And you accepted then, that she had never been a friend at all, and your dependency on her stemmed only from your own naïveté.
Shuri's chin was hooked over your shoulder as she continued to rock you, and she wept for you, wept for your loss. “Listen to me. You are enough. You are everything. You are perfection, and you are not to be faulted for this, your heart is not to be faulted.”
“Shuri.”
She shook her head in defiance, hellbent on hammering her belief into your mind. “You haven't done anything wrong. You are perfect. My perfect girl, and I need you to know this is not on you.”
Her lips met your wet hair, swaying never faltering under the rain of warm water. Shuri held you like that for the rest of the night, the two of you allowing yourselves to feel every pang of pain derived from the ordeal, and she continued her whispers of reassurance until you went limp in her arms from all the tears, and all the bloodshed.
•••
6 months later
“Come here baby, come here Herbo baby!” You patted your thigh, beckoning your cat to you, but the small feline only stared blankly before sprinting out of the bedroom. A stuck-up little thing, but you loved him dearly.
“Hello in there! This is your mama! Good morning baby! Your older brother is being mean today. But that's okay baby, that's okay!” You cooed into your stomach. There was no change in its appearance, though you were beginning to feel some slight hormonal shifts.
Shuri exited your shared bathroom with a towel around her neck, damp curls glued to her forehead, wearing only a sports bra and basketball shorts. “Four weeks is a little too early to start calling it a baby, no?”
“No.” You rolled your eyes at her grumble, returning all your focus to your tummy. “And this is your other mama, baby! She's very grumpy right now, she has been for the past few weeks, no one knows why. But that's okay! Because she loves you as I love you!”
Your wife sat on the bed, causing you to bounce at the dip in the mattress and she began to study you as you whispered sweet nothings to the life brewing inside of your body. Speaking to your baby made its way onto your list of favorite activities since becoming pregnant again, and you did it most mornings, or whenever you found yourself with free time on your hands, much to Shuri's chagrin.
Whenever she was present for it, you'd always wind up with her curious eyes on you, though the usual splash of amusement you were accustomed to did not sway in her glare. It made you uncomfortable, her calculated stare, but you never pressed the issue, and she never offered up reasoning.
“We're so excited to finally meet you someday soon, aren't we Shuri?”
Your wife hummed with a flickering smile as she massaged your ankle. “Your excitement brings me joy, bambo’lwami. Seeing you this happy makes me happy.”
The smirk you offered her when your eyes met was hardly an unfamiliar one, and her brow jumped in understanding. “You look good.”
“I feel comfortable.” She retorted, scooting up to sit near you on the bed so your shoulders would touch, and you breathed her in.
“I bet my mouth could offer you more. Comfort, I mean.”
You hadn't turned to look at her, but you knew she blushed beside you. Shuri's hot hand groped your bare thigh as you sat next to her, thumb brushing along the deep dimples decorating the expanse of it, and she had to fight a lip bite at the sound of your desperate little moan.
“We better not do anything that could potentially harm it,” That same palm found your stomach, and you jumped. “Or at the very least spike your heart rate.”
She pecked your head, then stood, marching straight out of your room as Herbo did moments ago before you could stutter up a measly, “O-Okay...”
•••
“Will you be wearing a dress tonight, or a suit, mtuwam?” You questioned, peering at Shuri through your vanity mirror. She remained silent from where she perched herself on your bed, watching you intently, as was her favorite pastime.
“Let's just see if we make it out the door first, hmm?”
At this, you turned, puzzled as to what she could possibly mean. “Shuri, the banquet starts in two hours. You need to start getting ready, you know it takes you forever.”
She chuckled, and the authentic rustle of it made you hum. You hadn't heard her laugh, not genuinely, in weeks, hadn't felt the rush it sent through you, so you chased after it now, choosing to tangle in the lastings of it that lingered.
“We don't have to go, you know. If you aren't up for it. We could just stay home, I’m sure Herbo would love that.” She purred at the cat curled in her lap, scratching his ear affectionately, and soon their sounds fell in sync. You twitched a little watching her with him. Being jealous of a cat was inherently illogical, but it was out of your hands. Because it’d been a while since Shuri allowed herself to get lost in you like the way she got lost in Herbo now, and there laid hurt in that.
You sighed, peeling your eyes from them; you decided to focus your energy on wrestling away your current state of drowsiness. It snuck up on you, seemingly with plans to control your night. “Of course, we're going, Shuri. This banquet is an important part of my job, you know this. Or do the events surrounding my career not matter? Is that what you're telling me?”
“I think we both know that isn't remotely similar to anything I've ever said to you.” She rolled her eyes, but not before releasing the cat and trekking to your closet, pulling out your favorite suit of hers. She caught your smirk in the mirror, though she said nothing, opting for a shake of her head instead.
Your night was already off to a dizzying start: all the lights, all the sounds, the people, and the forced conversation. It overwhelmed you, and your unrest became Shuri's fixation, no doubt swallowing an ‘I told you so’ for your journey home.
Fatigue took you, and barely an hour had passed. You craved some familiarity, at the very least, so you understandably jumped when you spotted Nakia floating gracefully across the room in a bold emerald number.
“Oh, sisi, hey–” She stepped back examining your face, your posture, cupping your cheeks delicately. “Are you alright?”
You nodded in her hold, grabbing her hands softly before removing them from your face. “Yes, yes. Just a little tired, this night is going to be long.”
She didn't look convinced, however, and worried eyes panned to a rather agitated-looking Shuri for some insight. Though she had none to offer, at least none in the form of words. You watched as the two women before you now concluded something together, something you were left in the dark about.
It frustrated you, seeing them so in sync over secrets that undoubtedly involved you, and you excused yourself to the restroom to catch your breath.
Standing in front of the mirror now only confirmed your suspicions and pushed understanding through you. You were made aware as to why you’d been receiving odd stares, and you understood Shuri's irritation when your appearance had been questioned. Nakia’s concern was a thing comprehended, because you looked exactly how you felt: weary, disoriented, and on the verge of collapse.
You needed to leave. Immediately.
“And the pregnancy is doing this to her? This early on?” A voice you knew: Nakia.
And the one that followed was your wife's beautiful refrain, although it’d been difficult to recognize under thick layers of exhaustion and hurt. “Yes. She's been trying to hide it, the toll. And I selfishly wish she was successful in doing so, because then I wouldn't be subjected to seeing her fall apart like this.”
You stepped back into the restroom, letting the door remain cracked as you honed in on their conversation. Surely it wasn't wrong to eavesdrop, not when the topic of discussion was you.
“And there's nothing you can do? What about the herb?”
Shuri sighed, and it was the one that alerted you she'd already thought of this idea. “It wouldn't work, and she would refuse. I can't…fix her, not when I do not believe she's broken. But I can't help her either because this is what she wants.”
She was correct in that assumption.
“I don't want her to have this baby, Nakia. She's so happy, she's excited about becoming a mother. But I'm fearful that this dream of hers will only ever remain that, a dream. It's selfish but I can't lose her, not like this.”
You heard shuffling, a sniffle, and what you could only envision to be a hug. A palm slapped itself over your mouth as you drank your tears at your wife's revelation.
It was then that you stepped out, rickety heart pumping blood at its most accelerated pace, and Shuri automatically answered your body's call. She pulled away from Nakia, draping your coat over your shoulders whilst attempting to steady you.
“Lovely girl, what is–”
“Take me home. Please.”
When your beloved wife tucked you into bed later in the night, she clutched you tight; Shuri swaddled your entire body in her strong embrace and breathed out each molecule of her fear ruggedly.
You peered up at her: cocoa eyes were shut, lips hung downward, and she hummed quietly with your head against her chest.
The question simmering in your stomach began its climb, and despite your efforts to gulp it back down, your body belched it out anyway, and you prepared for her rehearsed reply. “Do you want this baby, Shuri?”
“I want what you want, lovely girl.”
•••
“Kumkanikazi, ndicela ixhesha lakho?” (my queen, may i please have a moment of your time?)
Your strides into the throne room were hesitant ones, and Ramonda tilted her head in curiosity, questioning your reluctance to approach her.
“I have to assume this conversation will not be personal, seeing as you’ve chosen to address me so formally.”
You let a soft chuckle slip, reminiscing on the many times the woman in front of you had to scold you for addressing her by her title. She’d been adamant that the girl whom her daughter loved addressed her as she did, “My apologies, mama. My mind is not stable these days.”
She shrugged, “Comes with the territory.” Now it was your turn to let curiosity teem.
You narrowed your eyes at her, puzzled and she laughed. “You're pregnant.”
“How d–”
“You forget child, I am a mother, I’ve endured what you are enduring now, and I lived to tell the tale. The signs are not lost on me.” Her smile covered her entire face, lighting her eyes and showcasing the maturity in her features.
You laughed. Eerie were her methods of knowing the unknown, but her foresight only served as a buffer to make this conversation smoother. You’d worked up the courage to tell her, seeing as you were holding off on an official announcement given your last experience with early pregnancy, but now, the ancestors seemed to have done the work for you, and for that, you thanked them.
“Is this what you've come to talk about?” She questioned, and you nodded.
The Queen had become a voice of reason for you over the stint of your relationship with Shuri. She offered you guidance, and peace of mind when the task of aiding yourself became too immense. “Yes. I wanted your advice.”
She gestured for you to continue.
“Well you've guessed, I am pregnant. And it's something I've wanted all my life. My own children, my own family,” She smiled, squeezing your hand as she stood up from the throne, placing herself directly in front of you. “But my condition… it's making things rather difficult for me, for Shuri.”
“For Shuri?” She quizzed, startled.
“She's… apprehensive about it, worried, doesn't want to risk my health. I love her for worrying. I just, I want this so badly, mama. And while I do feel drained most days, I can’t let go of the feeling that I am meant to carry this life, t-that I am meant to be someone’s mother.” Her loving hands removed themselves from your own, cradling your face instead as she allowed you to cry into her palms.
“Oh… my child. Shuri doesn't want you to have the baby?”
You shook your head, still having a hard time accepting her conversation with Nakia from the other night. “No. She doesn't want me to risk my life giving birth.”
“She loves you, you know? After we lost her brother, her light dimmed. It was there still, but not as bright, not as blazing. But you… when she spoke about you, when she returned from visiting you, it was as if that light of hers exploded. She was the Sun. My Shuri. You brought her grieving heart back to life. Shuri loves you. And it is because she loves you that she behaves this way.”
“I love her too, I just, I think I can–” She cut you off.
“But. Her love for you should not interfere with you making your own choices, especially the choices involving your own body. The body that you take care of, that you fought like hell to have.”
You were spluttering now, sobbing hard as she held still to your wet face. “I–”
“Wanting a baby is not an unnatural thing. Being a mother is hard, but loving your children is easy.” She looked at you, deep and daunting. “Do you want this child you carry?”
“More than anything.”
Then she dried your tears, swatting away what she could. “Then you have your answer to the question you hadn't yet asked. The one you were hesitant to speak out loud. I know my daughter, I love my daughter, and I know this is something she wants as well. She loves you. She wants a family with you.”
•••
“Are you even still attracted to me, Shuri?” The two of you had cleared the lab, or rather, everyone scattered the moment you'd arrived seething and in tears. But your wife refused to move, purposefully averting your gaze.
She scoffed, “Is that a serious question?”
Your steps forward didn't seem to faze her, but when you moved behind her desk and tilted her chin to face you, she stiffened. “You don't touch me anymore. Look at me Shuri. Am I attractive to you? Are you attracted to me as I am now, Shuri? I–”
“I'm attracted to every version of you.” Brown eyes bored into your deteriorating exterior, and you gasped.
You let a hum slip, “And do you want this baby?”
Shuri sighed, evidently exhausted of the question she was being made to answer again and again, growing weary of her own repetition. “I want you happy, and if having this baby will make you happy, then yes. I want you to have everything you desire my love, I–”
“Shuri.”
Her rambling continued amidst your protest, “You deserve to…”
“Shuri.”
“...and I only care about…”
“Shuri enough! You avoid this question every time, diverting your words, shifting the topic to how much you love me, but no more lies! Answer the damn question, and do so truthfully…”
“Uyamfuna lomtana?” (do you want this baby)
A beat passed without words, or sound, and you studied Shuri's stern face trying to decipher her expressions. She gave nothing away, and then, a word. A singular word that clawed at your lungs, doing away with your practiced form of breathing. “No.”
“What?” You hadn't expected her to admit it. Though you’d requested the truth, residing within her lie comforted, because Shuri’s untruths seemed to hurt less than her honesty.
“No.” Her eyes were on you, and they were remorseful.
You swallowed, then blinked at her, trying desperately to string coherent words together. “You don't want our child?”
“Not if it means I lose you.”
You stepped forward, “You don't know that you will lose me Shuri, I–”
Shuri fiddled with the pens on her desk, dropping your gaze again, “You speak of my lies, but not of your own? I spoke with Dr. Chara. She told me she doesn't believe your heart can withstand childbirth.” This disclosure silenced you, because it was one you’d known and made peace with.
“You think I can't sense what you're going through? You choose to suffer in silence, but despite this, your body still calls out to me, she alerts me of your pain every waking day.”
You hadn't realized you were in tears again, but there they were, trickling from your sockets and staining your face. But the emotion driving them was not one anticipated: anger. Anger at your wife, anger at yourself, and the utmost fury at your heart. “Let's not forget it was you who encouraged me to–”
She stood, “Yes and I regret it! There isn't a day that goes by where I do not wish to take it all back. We were fine before, we were happy.” Shuri's voice blared, never had she raised her voice at you, and you could tell it wasn't a planned reaction.
“Are you not happy now? Shuri, are you unhappy with us?” Your voice cracked on its way out your throat, cracking Shuri’s heart in retaliation.
“Seeing you in pain makes me unhappy. Seeing you suffer makes me want to die. I am unhappy with what this… pregnancy is doing to you.”
“Shuri…”
She moved closer to hold you, to stable you as she often did, and Bast, you let her. You let her kiss your soaked face, you let your tears mingle, because in spite of it all, you’d missed her, and the heat of her touch.
•••
Returning to the maternity ward after years of absence came with waves of emotions for the Princess. She'd fallen in love beneath these very fluorescent lights, and the images of her lips on yours for the first time fluttered her heart as she followed the pattering of yours.
Shuri planted her feet perfectly in the fourth tile back from the window, and she stuffed her fists into the pockets of her slacks, patiently awaiting the press of your shoulder against hers, and like clockwork, it came without a beat of hesitation. She'd figured out later on why you did it, why you stood so close to her that first day. Her warmth called to you, pulled on your muscles like a magnet, and you allowed your body to be attracted to hers without resistance.
“You’d choose my life over the one growing inside me, Princess?” Your eyes hadn't shifted from the squirming newborns, and Shuri hadn't expected them to. She marveled at you still, admiring the striking beauty etched into your dark skin. Breathing became a thing of the past the longer the Princess stared; Shuri wanted nothing more than for the vision of you to render her unconscious, you were immersive in that way.
“Without question.” Not the answer you wished for, Shuri knew this, but it was the only answer you’d get. The lying, the holding back, she grew tired of it all, and she needed to cement the notion that you were all she cared about into your bones.
You nodded at this, and Shuri found herself leaning into each bob of your head. She was gone off your existence alone, pitiful really, but the Princess had no issue being pathetic for you. “You choose me.”
“I will forever choose you.”
She giggled a little at you craning your neck to see the babbling babies, and she grinned when you grinned. “I choose me too, Princess. And choosing me means I choose this pregnancy. I choose to have my baby.”
Shuri didn't speak when you directed your words to your stomach, she only watched, and she listened. “Do you hear that, baby? I choose you. But I need to know if you'll forgive me, because I might only be able to give you life, little one.”
The pressure of touching shoulders increased, per Shuri’s doing. She wanted to grab you, kiss you, scream at you to choose a different choice, but she couldn't. Shuri understood this was not up to her, and it was then she began to accept the crippling reality that her life might be longer than yours, your breathing may cease before her own. These weren't thoughts she wished to speak out loud, however, so she opted to dive deeper into your feel as she stood silently beside you.
“Will you forgive me, Princess?” Shuri did not enjoy the meekness of your tone, she did not enjoy hearing your confidence waver.
She turned to you then, and you mimicked her. Shuri captured your lips in hers, pouring her all into the kiss, all whilst trying to drink in every drop of you as though it were her last sip. She felt you quiver at the feel of her fingertips brushing your stomach, but she only used it as an opportunity to tug you closer. The passion beaming off the both of you expanded, blooming in pressure and power, Shuri was certain every glass surface surrounding you prepared for their inevitable shattering.
The kiss numbed her mind, and when she pulled away, she stuttered, struggling horribly to speak. “I-I, I choose you. And I choose your choices, bambo'lwami.”
•••
Shuri despised hospital rooms; loving you brought about this disdain. She hated the sight of you hooked up to beeping machines and tangled tubes and wires. Something she hated even more: having zero control or say in the care you received.
The Princess was gifted in many areas, but her preferred field of work was being your live-in, round-the-clock, go-to, nurse, doctor, and personal hand holder. These were her most cherished skills, caring for you was Shuri’s most cherished attribute. So, evidently, when she'd been barred from having any medical say-so in your labor preparation (per your request), the Princess wanted to throw a fit.
“You're oddly calm, mtuwam.” She let your strained voice tug her from inside her whirring mind, matching your weak smile.
She sighed, interlocking your fingers with a low laugh, allowing her stomach to bubble at the sight of gorgeous rings wrapped around perfect fingers. “I'm calm because you are. Though I would like to know what's taking that doctor so long. You were scheduled for surg–”
“Shuri.”
“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. My role here is to be a doting wife, not a domineering doctor, I know.” She bit her lip, utterly enamored by the sight of you, even now, especially now. Shuri admired your resilience through all of this, she wanted to be exactly like you someday.
She studied the way your eyes remained bright, elated, and blown, as you smirked at her. “Domineering doctor. I can unabashedly admit I do not hate the sound of that. You want to dominate me, Dr. Udaku?”
“I'm so in love with you.” Again, your resilience was a thing to be admired. Only you would find time to make jokes such as those at a time like this.
“You're rubbing off on me Princess. Oh! That's another one! You want to rub off on me, Princess?”
Shuri understood fully what her wife was doing; this was merely a tactic to relax Shuri's mind, get it off of the sight of her in that bleak hospital gown, shift her thoughts from the looming cloud of uncertainty hovering overhead. And if she hadn't known better, it might have worked.
Just as she began to speak, the door opened, and in walked the extremely tardy doctor, Shuri thought, but she pulled her lips into a hard line, allowing them to prep you for your scheduled cesarean.
“So,” She pressed her hands together, offering up a smile, one that made Shuri snarl, and she braced herself for your scolding. “Do we have any questions before you're wheeled back to the OR?”
Shuri looked at her wife, whose face displayed a twinge of sadness, and it was immediate — her comprehension of your impending question. Those were not words the Princess intended to have graze her ears, so Shuri chose to zone out.
It was only the beeping of machines and devices that pulled her back to reality. There were shouts, orders being given, and hospital personnel floating in and out of the room. Instinctively, she flew to your bedside, reaching for your hand.
“Someone please tell me what the fuck is going on! Right now!” And if Shuri weren't so caught up in her yelling, she would have noticed your wince at the boom of her voice. Your fear she picked up on, your spiking heartbeat too, and she placed her palm on your jumping chest, staring deeply into wild eyes that called to her in their time of need.
“Shuri?! Shuri…”
She kissed your face, diving immediately into your coached breathing. “I know, lovely girl, I know. Just breathe with me okay? Breathe.”
All efforts were seemingly useless, and Shuri was on the verge of collapse.
“Baby's heart rate is dropping. Mom’s heart rate and blood pressure are increasing rapidly.” There was a shout of, “Emergency C-Section,” then you were being rolled out of the room and away from her, sporting panicked eyes.
“We're sorry, Princess, but you are not permitted to enter the operating room. But you are welcome to wait here.”
Words Shuri refused to listen to, warnings that would go unheeded. She’d promised to be by your side, yet here she was, on the other side of locked doors, breaking that promise.
Hadn't she let you down enough? Shuri hadn't supported your desire to have this baby, not entirely, she reminisced on the half truths she spun as she sat, knees to her chest on the floor as she whimpered. She only wished to be with you when you needed her most.
If she wanted, she could break the doors down, demand to see you, demand to aid you, but she knew you wouldn't support this, and it was not her plan to disappoint you anymore than she already had. So she allowed the familiar thrum of the heart she loved so wholly to center her; if she couldn't be near you, your abnormal rhythm would suffice.
“Come, child. Let me hold you.” Ramonda pulled her daughter into her lap, cradling her similarly to when Shuri was just a baby with a kiss to her head as they both sat on the freezing floor, and Shuri released a wet exhale at the feel of Nakia’s comforting palm smoothing over her back.
•••
“It's been over seventy-seven minutes, why haven't they finished?” Shuri had indeed counted the minutes in her mind as she waited, it became her only sense of tranquility.
Her mother sighed beside her, but the action only served as an irritant, because it was indicative of the woman's lack of an adequate response. “Shuri, please hold to your patience right now. It's what she would want. Your wife is a fighter.”
She rolled her eyes at this, an act the River Tribe native perched across from her noticed and admonished, but Shuri couldn't bring herself to care. All her care laid with you.
“Your mother is right, you know, patience is a virtue. And your wife knows this, she respects this,” She offered up a small smirk. “Mostly.”
“I don't care about patience, I care about my wife!” Shuri shot to her feet, needing to flail in frustration because the ticking of endless time was beginning to drown her.
“My child I do not know what outcome this–”
She shushed her mother, inching closer to the doors separating her from her wife, terror banging against her heaving chest like a drum. “I can't…”
Shuri's actions caused Nakia to glance at the Queen, and they stood, mirroring Shuri’s slow strides. “Shuri?”
She tilted her head, sticking out a finger hauntingly to quiet Nakia’s speech.
“I can't hear… I-I c-can't hear her h-heartbeat…”
Silence befell the two women, just as the bleak wave realization rode in on arrived. Previously, Shuri had tuned out every beep, every zip, every sound behind the doors that wasn't you: your weak inhales, they were faint, but they existed. And of course, the pumping inside your sternum. But now, she heard neither.
Shuri’s vision blurred. Her feet marched. Her fists were balling, and her mother screamed her name from her rear, but that ceased to matter.
The opaque glass doors to the operating room shattered dramatically, startling the doctors, and nurses, and technicians hurrying around the room, but Shuri didn't care. Her eyes found your body on the bed, and she swallowed a whimper. No one held her back; they couldn't, but ultimately they didn't have to because Shuri froze.
You looked as though you were sleeping, you were sleeping. That's what she told herself. Because accepting anything else was not an option for the Princess.
But Shuri had laid awake watching you sleep on too many occasions to allow herself the luxury of believing it was only slumber that took you now. She'd memorized the pattern of your breathing as you dreamt, a pattern that existed no longer.
You remained still; devoid of color, devoid of life. Your heart was not alive, your chest did not rise, and without a rise, there would be no fall. Except, there was a fall — Shuri's fall. She was unaware she’d been tumbling until her knees hit the floor, and when two pairs of arms engulfed her, she screeched.
•••
A broken soul made no noise. Shuri made no noise, as she sat, unmoving in her wife's empty hospital room. Numbness offered her a hand and she reached desperately for it in the darkness, allowing a blanket of apathy to swaddle her.
It was better this way, she thought, better to not feel. If the Princess allowed herself to succumb to feelings, the entire world would sooner know her agony. This was her best option.
She befriended Silence as she sat, the spirit offered little comfort, but the absence of sound was a necessity.
It lasted only so long though, and Shuri sighed, preparing for the disturbance before it even reached the door. “Shuri.”
“Ndiyeke.” (leave me alone)
Nakia disregarded this, stepping into the room fully, but never leaving the doorway, and the Princess winced at the sound of soft coos. “Shuri there's someone who–”
“Leave. And take that thing with you as well.” She didn't have to look up to know her words sliced deep; She intended to make Nakia feel just a sliver of the hurt she'd been avoiding.
“Surely you don't mean that. Your dau–”
“Yisuse kum lento.” (get it away from me)
There were no more words to be had between the pair, Shuri’s knife slashed through bone, burying itself deep within Nakia’s being, and she nodded, leaving the Princess to float on her high of comforting numbness.
•••
Most nights, the sound of a crying infant rang throughout the palace, but never had Shuri peeled herself from your side of the bed to check on the baby. The Princess lay on her side, curled in a ball as she inhaled the smell of your pillowcase. There was little intrigue on her end when it came to the child, she found there was nothing they held in common.
It hadn't known you, it may have come from you, but it did not know you, not in the way she did. You were hers. It hadn't loved you as she did. This loss was hers alone, and the Princess found the child’s screams to be unwarranted.
Perhaps there was room to bond over the sleeplessness they both shared, because Shuri too laid awake most nights. Rarely did the Princess leave her bed, rarely did she interact with others, and there’d been no recollection on when she'd last seen the Sun. She’d taken to feeling though, and just as she'd predicted, those around her suffered. The child suffered.
She sighed when wails morphed into coos, letting her eyes flicker shut so she could shed a silent tear.
Tonight was not like most nights. There was movement in the young royal’s bed chambers, toes plunged into carpet, and lean legs propelled Shuri forward. They followed the babbling, stopping short as she approached the nursery the two of you decorated mere months ago. Her feet did not cross the threshold though, and she stood there, fingers fiddling and pulling on the hem of your favorite t-shirt.
“Precious, precious girl. You have your mama's eyes, yes you do!” Shuri watched as Nakia poked the baby's tummy and she shuddered at the sight of it smiling.
She let her head hit the frame as she stood there: silent, unmoving, watching. “How do you do it?”
“Shuri!” Nakia jumped, clearly unprepared to hear her voice. The Princess startled even herself with her words; it’d been days since she’d last spoken, to herself or to anyone. Her throat remained raw from her silent sobbing, and she was reminded immediately as the last word left her lips.
She settled onto the floor, criss-crossing her legs, allowing your shirt to cover her knees. “How did you find it in you to go on after the loss of my brother?”
Nakia placed the baby back into its crib, then she stooped down, sitting directly across from the forlorn Princess. She wanted to offer comfort, but she was hesitant to reach out and touch. “Oh… Shuri.”
“I wanted to burn the world in his name, and I nearly did. But now I feel as though it is I who the world has set ablaze. Losing her, i-it…” Tears evaded Shuri now, but she felt no such luck when it came to hurt.
She shut her eyes, allowing her cells to sizzle under the breeze that was Nakia’s words. “When I lost your brother, I did what you are doing. I recoiled, I broke. I was prepared for his death, but no amount of preparation could ever do away with the anguish that comes along with losing the one you love. But I also found the strength to put myself back together again, for my son.”
“I don't think that's something I can do. I want to remain broken, I want to feel the pain of her loss forever. It's only fair.” Shuri’s knees were pressed to her chest now, and she pulled away from the helping hand being offered to her.
“You don't mean that, Shuri. Your dau–”
“I do!”
A sad smile formed on Nakia’s lips, one Shuri read as pity. There had been a time where Shuri wore her own version of pity proudly, where she let herself revel in how pathetically entranced with you she was. She almost smiled at the thought of it, but no longer did that feeling exist.
“Neglecting your daughter will not help fill the hole felt from her loss, Princess. Forcing yourself to hurt will never ease your mind.”
“You think I have to force myself to hurt? You don't think this pain comes naturally to me?”
Nakia shook her head, “That is not what I meant, Shuri, you know that.”
Soft babbling tugged on Shuri's attention, and she craned her neck to the handcrafted crib housing the little one. “I'm afraid I will resent the child forever if I were to hold it, and the thought of disappointing my love in this way is terrifying.”
“Your daughter wants to know her mama, Shuri, she grows curious about the other presence here each day.”
Curiosity brimming in a body that tiny, this piqued Shuri’s interest. She knew curiosity well, curiosity led her to you. “How do I know I will be an adequate mother? How do I know I can raise a child, give it– her the proper guidance?”
“Your wife made a choice. One that she felt was best for her and her baby. You too, have choices. You can choose to respect her choice, you can also choose to love your daughter. She's already chosen you.” This produced a sad smile from the Princess, as she reminisced on some of the first words you’d said to her.
“But that's the easy part,” Nakia continued, squeezing Shuri's knee playfully. “Because she is easy to love. Come.”
The two women rose, and Shuri exhaled deeply as she stepped over the threshold. Her indignation, she left on the other side of the door, inching slowly toward the baby, and immediately, there was a smile from the child.
“Oh, that's her biggest one yet.”
Shuri huffed a laugh. Emotions swirled inside her as she gaped at this beauty harboring your starry eyes. Eyes she thought she'd lost forever, but here they were, peering back at her, calling out to her as yours did. The baby wore your face as though it were her own, and it was then that Shuri broke.
Slowly, she reached for the baby girl, her baby girl, cradling her gently, supporting her head lovingly. Shuri let a sob slip as she held her daughter, then a chuckle because you’d been right. Choosing to love this small child coated in your complexion came with no challenge, just as loving you came with no challenge. This hadn't been the life she pictured for herself, but Shuri knew the only constant life carried with it was change.
