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fictioninmyblood · 5 months

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I Meant That Shit

Summary: N’Jadaka gets tired of waiting for Y/N to forgive him and come home, so he decides to let Killmonger bring her back, kicking and screaming if necessary.

Warnings: 18+, noncon/con, smut, D/s themes, Entitled and pissed Erik being devious. Shouldthere be a warning for angst?

A/N: This was supposed to be short, but here we are. Enjoy my sexually starved thoughts.

A/N: Also, idk if this needs to be said, but I write for my demographic - black females. This has been my disclaimer/notice.

A/N: My work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

After his reluctant rehabilitation, there weren't many things that brought out his killer instinct anymore. However, it seemed that lately, despite all the sparring, therapy, and meditation sessions, Erik couldn’t shake the urge to knock some sense into his girl Y/N.

A few weeks prior when she told him she needed space and couldn’t stay in Wakanda and ignore her life anymore, he said some things. She took it the wrong way and told him they were over, as if.

When she first left, Erik was sure she’d break down and FaceTime him or use the kimoyo beads he taught her to use. She was always more vocal about missing him, so he just assumed she’d break down and restart their communication. Imagine his surprise when a whole two weeks rolled by without so much as a text, call, or video chat. He was desperate for anything from her, even a verbal lashing, but by the time a month came and went, he felt like a fiend going through withdrawal.

During week six, his excitement to finally lay his eyes on Y/N was quickly cut short when he realized she was still talking to his family even though he had been getting the silent treatment. That displeasing information lit him like a powder keg when he saw another man in Y/N’s background, getting dressed no less. T’Challa dragged him from Shuri’s lab ready to bust a gasket when his babygirl asked Shuri to go into a different room and his little cousin actually listened! His whole family was against him again it would seem.

When T’Challa got him back to his room, all he did was pace. It was ten full minutes of the king warily watching his cousin stew when M’Baku walked right into the line of fire as Erik turned to beat the shit out of his cousin. T’Challa easily dodged the current threat on his life as the giant grabbed Erik’s hands in one of his, quickly disarming him and making the pouting man even more enraged.

“You all have been talking to her this whole time?” N’Jadaka roared.

“Just Shuri and I. She made us promise to let you figure it out for yourself, but you’ve been failing miserably cousin! Absolutely clueless!” T’Challa replied.

Erik struggled against M’Baku’s vice grip to no avail.

“No shit Sherlock. I’m gonna whoop yawls asses. M’Baku let me go.”

“Not until you promise to have a conversation with your mouth instead of your hands. I am not prepared to get involved in another war between you two.”

Erik took a few deep breaths. “Fine, I’m good.”

Once M’Baku was sure there would be no immediate violence he let go.

“You better start explaining real fucking soon T,” Erik spat, pointing an accusatory finger at T’Challa.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N is struggling to accept that you actually want her around long term!” T’Challa word-vomited.

If the prince wasn’t already enraged, the king and tribal chief would’ve laid out in hysterics at how N’Jadaka’s face screwed up. “How sway! How?!”

“From what Shuri has explained and I’ve gathered in my eavesdropping is that she thinks you only want to claim her without actually growing with her. Everything is on your terms, your way, in your time. She’s been far more patient than most would be with you so I can’t say she’s wrong.”

Erik jumped at T’Challa, scaring him and the big gorilla chief. “I oughta beat you up for keeping your mouth shut.”

“She and Shuri threatened me within an inch of my life and they scare me more than you. Besides, according to them, you can’t keep relying on us to figure out what’s going on in your relationship and I couldn’t find a valid disagreement.”

Erik nearly did slap T’Challa at the last sentiment.

“Aye aye!” M’Baku shouted, getting between the two yet again, “He is being truthful now. That counts eh? And if I may interject, I think you’re aiming your anger at the wrong person.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Erik said, deflating under the weight of that truth, “but his ass still bout to pay me back and I know just how.”

————-

A few hours later…

“You know, when I told you that you could pay me back with The Royal Talon Fighter, I didn’t expect you to tag along.”

“Who else was going to keep an eye on our Wakandan technology or keep you from murdering anyone in the vicinity of Y/N, especially any man?”

Erik rolled his eyes and huffed. “I guess.”

“Or Y/N from killing you for just showing up jealous despite being radio silent since long before she left Wakanda.”

“Alright alright! You made your point. Damn! Just drive the fancy metal.”

—

Erik was all confidence until the second they landed in Atlanta. Yeah, Killmonger was out for blood and was ready to bring their girl back kicking and screaming if necessary, but Erik N’Jadaka Stevens? He was a nervous fucking wreck.

T’Challa and M’Baku’s words really struck a nerve and he had nothing but time to stew over them on the ride to your family’s hometown ranch. Before he met you, Killmonger made all the decisions, kept him alive and ahead of the game, whatever game he was surviving at the moment. He lived like that for well over a decade when he met you, but you didn’t bat an eyelash at his swift mood swings, his bloodthirst, or his possessiveness, often putting him in place. You handled him with love and care, showing him how to become the softer version of himself without sacrificing your boundaries too much. He was quickly realizing that he sometimes pushed too hard, took too much, neglected your requirements. It was your stern patience, however, that was enough to allow you to become the first person to get him the person instead of him the killer to come out and communicate, interact, and live rather than survive.

You did it for him a second time around when he came out of cryo too. He hadn’t told you anything about how he would go about his goals, opting just to disappear and execute so it was a surprise of a lifetime to wake up to your beautiful Y/E/C. After getting over his initial anger over you seeing the worst of him, you were the first person he responded to or let touch him during his recovery. Even going so far as not allowing the medical staff to redress his wounds if he was awake.

Only your touch soothed him, only your voice gave him peace. You made him less of a killing machine and more human again, made him want to address the tsunami of emotions and trauma that he lugged around. He didn’t want to jeopardize your willingness to be that for him but he recognized how you were always giving all you had just to receive an inch of progress from him. If that.

Unfortunately, all of his introspection and nervousness flew right out of the truck T’Challa had them in when he saw you walking up to your personal guesthouse with a man in tow. Killmonger immediately took the reins pushing him and his feelings down into the abyss, and leaping out of the car before T’Challa could come to a complete stop with his cousin calling after him.

“Y/N!” Killmonger shouted from the end of the long-ass driveway, rage evident in his voice.

Y/N was haphazardly trying to get her drunk cousin up the stairs while nervously dropping her keys when she heard Killmonger. She’s only encountered him a few times since meeting Erik, after the first time she brought him back to himself, he did his best to keep that part from her. It didn’t always work since any repressed feeling or issue the man had was poured into his alter ego, feeding his desire to be wild and untamed in his decision-making. So she knew he was out for blood with just the sound of her name.

She got the key in just as Killmonger got to the beginning of her walkway up to the house. As quickly as she could, she pulled her cousin in, slamming and locking the door in her partner’s face, leaving the beast to bang on her door and demand entrance.

“I’m not dealing with your bulldozing tactics Kill! You can come back when Erik is ready to face his fucking feelings and have an adult conversation!”

“If you know what’s good for you and that nigga in there, you better open this ghatdamn door Y/N!” He roared in response.

Y/N’s cousin couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how much she waved him off. Getting trashed 3 nights in a row after a bad breakup and crashing with his favorite cousin after hearing how she was hiding from both the world and the love of her life as well didn’t prepare him for seeing her so out of character. One second she was fleeing from the man, the next she was big and bad from behind a locked door in all her 5’5” glory. It was comical as hell to him.

“You know you look constipated when you cuss? Like that stick in your ass is fighting every syllable.” He said, immediately dying in another fit of laughter at his analogy.

“Who the fuck is that in there with you, Y/N, and don’t fucking lie!”

“The next man. Nice to meet you. You must be the ex.” her cousin shouted out in a drunken slur to Y/N’s horror.

Yeah, she knew she wasn’t in the wrong, and there was no reason to defend herself against this man, but she knew not to press certain buttons once Kill made an appearance. Her cousin, unfortunately, had no discernment to see that he had just pressed the biggest red button Kill had when it came to her.

Y/N watched the myriad of emotions that crossed Erik’s face through the peephole, praying to every ancestor and display of the creator she could think of that this man wasn’t going to go full psycho-killer on them both. The last thing she needed was him taking several steps back in his healing just to unnecessarily add another scar, maybe 2 with how pissed he looked.

Y/N turned back to her cousin, ready to kill him for putting her in even hotter water, only to find that nigga was sleep, leaving Y/N to deal with the consequences on her own.

As soon as she had that thought her ears piqued, taking in how silent it had gotten. All she could hear was the crunch of gravel as T’Challa finally pulled in and got out. When she peeked outside the peephole again, she was met with a confused T’Challa looking for Erik.

A chill ran up her spine and her blood ran cold as she slowly turned to her current worst fear; Killmonger pissed as hell, staring her down with a knife to her cousin’s throat.

“Give me one good reason not to paint your brand new carpet with this nigga’s blood Y/F/N then fuck you on the new color.”

Putting her hands up in a placating manner, Y/N slowly inched towards Kill, stopping when he dug the knife just slightly deeper, exposing a thin line of blood, as her cousin slept unawares.

Donning a submissive voice as if she was talking to a wild animal, “Erik, baby calm down.”

“Don’t baby calm down me! You out here giving other niggas what’s mine? Mine Y/N!”

“That’s not–”

“Don’t tell me that’s not what’s going on when you’ve been M.I.Fucking.A. for weeks! And the first thing I see both on video chat and in person is you with some random?! I’ll murder every nigga to ever touch you, keep tryna play me.”

“Nobody’s playing you Daka, look closer, you know him. I promise I haven’t been stepping out on you.” Y/N continued on, internally rolling her eyes at the toddler temper tantrum she had to placate this nigga out of. “My stupidly in love, trying to escape his own heartache, and loves drama when drunk cousin that you have met several times was just egging you on.”

Kill looked closer to the man’s face and released the filter of rage clouding his judgment, upon closer inspection he realized they’d met at several of the many family gatherings he’d attended with Y/N/N. Slowly easing the knife from her cousin’s throat, Erik struggled to fight back tears at his behavior. He was proving he wasn’t good enough for her, he hadn’t actually changed all that much. Kill took the reins once again, unwilling to let him process his feelings of abandonment and betrayal just yet. Rushing towards Y/N, he laid the knife flat on the side of her face, taking up residence on the other side.

Biting a huge hickey along her jawline, before grasping her earlobe in between his teeth, Killmonger growled, “So if you ain’t been fucking him, who you been fucking?”

Although Y/N knew she logically had nothing to feel guilty about, how he was questioning her made her want to lie down and worship him as an apology regardless. She took a deep breath to center herself, understanding that any sign of nervousness would be taken as an omission of guilt.

Y/N ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulder blades to hold his face in her palms. He reluctantly released her earlobe to allow her to face him, naturally allowing the blade to rest against her neck ever so gently.

“N’Jadaka. Erik, baby? Look at me, I have been trying to live without you miserably for the last few weeks. I’ve only been going out since Y/C/N got here and I have to beg for breaks because I’m basically his chaperone. You believe me don’t you?”

Erik looked at her with suspicion clouding his eyes. He dropped the knife and held her throat in his hands, squeezing just tight enough to hint to either pleasure or pain, pushing her against the front door.

“Ion know. Why should I?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/N took a chance and palmed his face, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb. “Cause you know that no matter how much you stress me out, isolate yourself from me, or threaten anyone who seems to have more access to me than you, that I love your crazy ass.”

Erik squeezed a little tighter, not enough to hurt her but enough to reassert his dominance. Y/N put a hand over his, doing her best to ground herself in the feeling of his hands rather than how much she wanted to cum from the pressure of them.”

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked out, “I love every version of you, no matter how threatening any of them may be and I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me.”

“Say it again.”

“I love you?”

“Nah, princess, the other part.”

“No matter how threatening-” she started, but was cut off by the growl emanating from Erik’s chest and the pulsing release and pressure of him allowing her small gasps of air. “You know what I mean Y/N, don’t test me lil mama.”

Erik held his squeeze on her neck, tilting it ever so slightly to lick the side of her face and hold her earlobe between his teeth, tugging.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the guttural moan if she tried. Just barely keeping her eyes from rolling back and donning her sweetest sub voice, she said, “I physically can’t stand to have anyone else touch me the way I let you touch me big daddy. It literally makes me nauseous.”

Erik released her ear with a wet snap against her face, “It does?”

Y/N hummed and nodded her head as best she could in her current predicament.

Killmonger covered the forgiving face Erik started to make, replacing it with one of his stern, unyielding looks. “Then why you leave me and give me the silent treatment for weeks?”

Y/N whined at the tightening of his hands, closing her eyes to savor the pleasure only he could illicit lighting her body on fire.

Erik bit her bottom lip roughly, nearly drawing blood. “That’s not an answer.”

Losing the battle against her libido and subspace, Y/N whined again.

In a faux sweet voice Erik said, “Awww, is little mama already too far gone in her head thinking about all the ways imma mark you.”

Y/N nodded again, lost in the many images she’d acquired from her sexual experiences with Erik and Kill over the years.

“Good.” And with those words, Y/N was suddenly looking at Erik’s ass and the floor as he stomped upstairs to her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

He tossed her on the bed and roughly stripped her of her clothes, halter top first, bottoms and panties all in one fell swoop last, leaving her heels on.

He positioned her over his knee and popped her cheeks until her bottom was flushed with his favorite shade of reddish purple and warmed his hands with the heat she emanated.

By the time he was done, Y/N wanted to be a ball of tears, but could only sniffle, her voice too shy to make an appearance when Kill took the reins of their scenes like this for fear of upsetting him further.

Erik used his knee to spread her legs open far enough to see her flower drenching her thighs in her nectar for him. He took two fingers to swipe some of it onto them for him to put in his mouth and savor, groaning at how much sweeter she seemed to have gotten since last he held her.

He laid her onto the bed and got up to undress himself, slapping her already sore ass when she didn’t move a muscle.

“You know what’s up. Face down, ass up lil mama.”

Y/N groaned but slowly inched her way into position. Already feeling like jello, she barely put an arch in her back, struggling not to lay back down and pass out.

Killmonger was not happy with that. After he’d removed everything except his grills and chain he let both his palms come down on her cheeks simultaneously.

Sounding more animal than human, “If you don’t assume the position like you got some sense, I swear to the gods Y/N.”

She was still lethargic, but was eager to experience less of his painful assaults and more of the pleasurable ones that she knew were around the corner. It took all of her strength but she was able to inch herself into position, deepening her arch just the way he demanded with her arms by her side and her cheek resting against the comforter.

“Good girl.”

With how pliant she was to his commands and the evidence of how much she trusted and wanted him dripping down her thighs, it took all of his restraint not to plunge himself into her until he felt her cervix try to push him back out.

Y/N smiled faintly at the praise, humming and wiggling her ass in response.

Killmonger grasped her wrists as he knelt to get up close and personal with his pussy. He spread her lips so he could get an eyeful of her throbbing clit and blew on it, eliciting a guttural moan from Y/N, before replacing his hand back on her wrist.

“Just you wait mamas, you gonna be screaming and crying by the time I’m done with you.”

He licked her juices on both thighs, leaving hickies all over them both before he finally put his whole face in her pussy and ate. If it wasn’t for the grasp he had on her wrists, she would have collapsed immediately.

Erik was a good kisser in general, but Killmonger was a master at french kissing, especially her pussy, until she was questioning whether or not she still wanted the pleasure. Those deep soul sucking kisses always made her question her sanity.

He slurped up and suctioned her clit into his mouth like that’s where it belonged, flicking it with the tip of his tongue until she came with a silent scream, without ever releasing her tiny bud. Then he released it with a pop only to hold her lips open and spit directly onto her hole, watching his saliva drip down onto her clit. He flattened his tongue and licked like the dog he could be until she was a whining, moaning mess, tears streaming down her face just as promised.

Once the first sound hit his ears, she couldn’t stop the noises he was pulling from her if she was mute, let alone at the mercy of his insatiable thirst for her most animalistic responses.

Kill continued his assault with his tongue, moving through her folds in a rhythm only he knew. After he’d gotten two more orgasms from her that way, Y/N alternating between screaming and crying, he latched his plush lips back around her clit, assaulting the sensitive bundle of nerves, and plunged his two most trustworthy fingers into her, immediately finding her gspot and caressing it with an incessant ‘come hither’ motion until she was squirting and creaming uncontrollably. Not willing to let go just yet he dragged it out for what seemed like forever since she briefly lost consciousness and came to, lips still parted in the O of her silent screams, with his mouth still eagerly slurping up the waterfall his fingers were responsible for. All Y/N could do was turn her head the other way to watch what she could see of him, whining and moaning.

When she could barely release any more spurts he released her, licking his hand, fingers, and forearm clean as he slowly stroked his hard as steel member.

In the great deep of her sex haze, Y/N mumbled, “He brought dick too? How are we gonna survive dick too when he almost killed us with just his mouth and fingers.”

Erik chuckled at her ramblings, proud that he was, as usual, responsible for her senseless words.

When his precum made an appearance, he swiped it up with his thumb and rubbed it into her pussy, almost immediately replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick. Wanting to savor this moment of finally being able to reconnect with his pussy, he played with her, just like that. Rubbing the tip of his dick in both of their juices, up and down her pussy lips, circling her clit, and coming to apply just enough pressure to her desperately clenching hole, only to rinse and repeat. On and on he went, teasing them both until his quietly whimpering babygirl was back to guttural whines.

He knew she was right where he wanted her mentally when she started begging.

“Please big daddy, I’m so sorry. Please baba E, please baba, please. Please please please please please pleaaaaaasssssseeeeee.”

When he was good and ready, he pulled her up by her throat until she was flush against him, licked her tears from her cheek, and forced her to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t do that disappearing and silent treatment shit ever again Y/N. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded and blinked at him with a puppy eyed look that damn near melted the ice caps of his attitude, but he was quick to remind her who’s big daddy in their relationship.

“When I told you, you were mine, I meant that shit mama.”

“Yes, baba,” Y/N squeaked out.

He tongued her down with one of his sloppy french kisses and as soon as he felt her body relax in his hold, he did exactly what his body had been begging for since the second he saw her. He pushed himself into her until he felt the tip of her cervix try to push him all the way back out, savoring the fucked out look she wore as her body spasmed with the unexpected orgasm, he held them there letting her ride it out.

In this moment he was grateful for the years of curated discipline since the way her pussy clamped onto him almost triggered his own mind numbing orgasm. Although he successfully staved off his nut, he couldn’t stop the way all of his fight was knocked right out of him. Finally rid of the aggression that his Killmonger personality oozed, Erik was able to finally take in his queen, his Y/N, in all her sex hazed glory.

When she finally came down from her high he started moving, giving her slow and deep strokes as he showered her face and neck with kisses, hoping his attempt at lovemaking showed her just how priceless she was to him, how desperate he’d been without her.

Kiss, “I’m sorry too mamas,” kiss “I know how much you love me and I don't understand why,” kiss, “you,” kiss, “insist,” kiss, “on pouring all of the best parts of yourself into me.” He couldn’t help but shed a tear at the relief he felt, having her in his arms again. “I promise to do better,” kiss, “to listen and pay attention more,” kiss, “to treat you like the empress you are,” kiss, “just say you’ll come home with me,” kiss, “promise you’ll take your rightful place by my side mamas,” kiss, “claim your right as my queen.”

Y/N was a moaning, whining mess, barely holding onto consciousness and shedding her favorite kind of tears, just as promised.

Erik tucked his face into her neck, struggling to keep himself from cumming too soon since her pussy was gripping him like a boa constrictor, indicating that yet another orgasm wasn’t too far.

He held himself in the deepest parts of her and put a little whine in his hips. “Please mama, come home with me.”

Just when he thought he could hold out no longer she arched into him and screamed yes over and over, overwhelmed with her orgasm, and squirted all over them both. Erik came in her almost at the exact same time, his orgasm nearly knocking him out with how it overcame him from head to toe. Both of them slumped into the bed.

—

By the time he finally started to get up, her screams had quieted back to whimpers.

Erik slowly and gently removed her heels from her feet, massaging the soles with just the right amount of pressure.

He cleaned both of them with a warm washcloth and ran the tub, placing some bubble bath soap, epsom salt, essential oils, and dried rose petals in the water. Wanting to balance out the intrusive way he barged back into her life, he lit some candles and incense as well, and placed his favorite body oil of hers on the counter.

When he came back to get her in the tub, she was silently staring into space in the same place and position he left her. After he got her to turn over and sit up, he scooped her into his arms bridal and brought her to the tub, gently placing her into the suds.

Once he saw her relax he went back to the bedroom to strip and change the sheets, wanting their transition back into the room to be seamless. When he came back into the bathroom her head was leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed, and tears were streaming down her face, alarming him to the fact that although he’d won the battle, he was still losing the war with treating his girl with the care she really was looking for from him.

Choking up himself, he kneeled next the tub and leaned over her face, kissing the droplets left behind.

“I’m so sorry mamas. You know that right?” His voice cracked at the end.

Although she started nodding yes, she ended up shaking her head no.

“Can you open your eyes for me please?”

Y/N shook her head no again.

“Pretty please?”

Again she shook her head no. She was too scared to look him in his eyes, anytime he touched her or they made eye contact she folded to his desires and needs, abandoning her own.

A little defeated, but determined to win all of her back, not just her body, Erik switched tactics.

“May I get into the tub with you and hold you?”

Y/N hesitated a few moments before she nodded yes. As soon as she heard the rustle of him standing back up she scooted forward allowing him to sit behind her.

Once he was seated, Erik gently pulled her into him, urging her body to use him as she did the edge of the tub. The moment she relaxed in his embrace, head lolling slightly to the left, he started kissing up and down her neck from where her ear met her face to her collarbone.

When he felt enough time had passed, he tried to get her to open up to him again.

“Lil mama?”

Y/N hummed.

“Tell me what’s on your mind please, I promise to listen.”

Y/N held up her pinky and asked, “Pinky promise?”

Erik locked his pinky with hers and brought her hand to his lips, softly talking against it, “Pinky Promise.”

She pulled her hand away, putting it back in her lap to join the other one, under the water.

Taking a deep breath she started.

“Am I a toy to be played with Daka?” Erik was ready to answer but kept silent, knowing she needed to get all of her thoughts out before he interrupted her. “To be taken out of storage to be used and then tossed aside when you’re not getting the desired result anymore?”

Rubbing the sides of her thighs and suddenly very scared, he said, “ no mamas.”

“Then why do you get to demand time and attention and energy from me, but when I ask for a sliver of honest communication, the smallest amount of all three resources you have to offer me, you shut me out? Why is it only okay for you to communicate what’s going on with you and us when you feel like it, when it's convenient? Why do I always have to beg for you to lean on me, to use me softly? Why do I have to beg you to let me hold you. Why don’t you ever just ask? Why do I have to grovel at your feet to be held by you? Why is the only time you make love to me when you’re trying to win me back? Why?”

By the end of her list, Y/N was sobbing. Erik wrapped his arms around her body and tucked his chin in the curve of her neck and let a few tears drop himself before he answered.

“I don’t know mamas. I guess…,” he wiped the tears from his face and gulped down the rising tsunami of emotion that she so easily created with just a few sentences before he wrapped his arm back around her, “...I guess I’m just terrified.”

“Of what baby? Haven’t I been here? Haven’t I done the best to support you with all that I am, to remain honest with you and show you that I am loyal to our future?”

He kissed her shoulder and said, “you have. I just-”

Y/N pulled out of his arms to finally look him in the eye, “You just what? Aren’t my efforts to build a life with you enough?”

Erik palmed her face and gave her a deep kiss, hoping to transfer all of his emotion into it.

He put his forehead against hers and said, “I’m just so fucking terrified of losing you. To have the warmth of your love snatched away at a moment's notice. I’m terrified in a way I haven’t been in so fucking long that I just convince myself that its better to pull away and show you how unworthy I am of the full magnitude of your love.”

He pulled away and kissed her forehead, grateful she was finally looking him in the eyes again. “But this time of separation showed me I am nothing without you, just a hollow shell, no love to warm my soul and bones. Even the care and concern of my family isn’t enough to fill the abyss that’s created in your absence.”

Y/N swiped away the stray tears from his face, “that’s-”

“I know. Super intense.”

“Yes. But I was gonna say a relief to hear. You never really give me any verbal confirmation that you feel as deeply for me as I do for you unless I say I love you first.”

“I know mamas, but I promise to do better, be better, for you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “No Baba. For you. You need to talk your feelings out loud so you can hear it too. You need to know that the only reason you’re able to love me so deeply is because you love yourself that deep, if not deeper, first. Understand?”

Erik smirked, yet again grateful that he had such a wise and loving partner who always held up the pieces of mirror he’d sworn he’d broken to pieces.

“Yea lil mama, I understand.”

“Good…,” Y/N kissed him again, deepening the kiss but teasing him slightly with how lightly she moved her lips against his. When she pulled away, she almost regretted bursting his bubble. “...cause I’m not going back with you until I’m ready.”

Erik’s face instantly fixed itself into a scowl. “But-”

Y/N held a finger to his lips. “I said when I’m ready, not never. I came home to get back to taking care of me, love me, and understanding what my needs are.”

His pout deepened.

“And I learned that I need to stop jumping when you say jump. So I go back when I feel that I’m ready, not because you showed up and demanded it of me. Okay?”

He was a little deflated, but still holding onto the hope of her eventually coming back with him.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until you’re ready.”

“But-.”

It was Erik’s turn to hush her with a finger. “I already know what you’re going to say and my duties will be waiting for me when we go back together. Now that you’re back in my arms I’m in no hurry to lose the privilege again.”

“You’re not!”

“You’re right, cause I’m staying.”

All Y/N could do was chuckle, understanding that she’d lost this battle and relishing in the fact that she won the war. It seemed he was finally starting to understand what she needed because although she was indeed going to complain about him having responsibilities to return to, she really did need him to stay. That abyss he had was mirrored in her heart and only time with him would close it back up.

Both satisfied that they worked through the root issue, they went back to enjoying the bath, Y/N comfortably resting her head against Erik.

When they were all pruney and the water was verging on cold, Erik stood them up to drain the tub and turned on the shower to rinse them both. After he dried them both, he quickly lotioned his body with shea butter, grabbed the body oil and guided Y/N hand in hand, back into the bedroom.

He laid her on her back first to moisturize and massage her front, kneading out all of the tension she held. When he was working his way back up from her feet, he couldn’t help but get stuck between her thighs, using his thumbs to massage circles up them until he reached her pussy again.

Y/N slightly parted her legs, letting one bend and fall open for easy access. He immediately used one hand to part her lips so he could see her clit clearly.

Erik leaned down to softly kiss her clit a few times before he pulled away and used the thumb on his other hand to rub slow circles. He admired her form as he brought her to orgasm leisurely.

He went back to massaging her thighs until she returned from the heights of her pleasure.

His voice was more gruff than he wanted when he told her, “turn over.”

She easily compiled and continued his massage, paying extra attention to her sore ass.

When Y/N was 2 more seconds away from sleep and he was satisfied with his work he urged her under the covers and joined her. She tried to grab his hardened member to return the favor but he grabbed up her hands, kissing them to soften the blow.

“No, I needed to show you how softly I can treat you, I don’t need to cum right now. Sleep.”

Y/N pouted and whined, wanting to feel him connected to her again.

She lifted her leg over his as they faced each other and inched as close as she could with her hands in his, feeling his dick graze her pussy lips.

Putting a little more base in his voice, “Ay! What I just say lil mama?”

She whined out, “I don’t care, I just need to feel you in me Baba.”

Erik grunted.

Y/N donned her best puppy dog pout and begged with her words and body, wiggling in his hold and being able to feel the lightest brush of his hot skin. “Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee?”

“Fine, but careful what you asked for…” he said, sheathing himself in one stroke and stilled her hips before she could start moving. “...you just might get it.”

He released her hands and tongued her down, palming her face.

“Sleep Y/N.”

“But,” she said, her face scrunching in confusion.

“You can keep me warm, but that’s it for now, okay?”

She started to whine again but was cut short when he wrapped the hand palming her face around her throat.

“Sleep mamas. You’re going to need all of your energy in the morning.”

She wasn’t necessarily happy, but she also wasn’t necessarily dissatisfied. She did get her wish after all.

“Ok.”

Y/N tucked her head under his chin and started to drift before she sleepily said, “thank you for showing me how much you care Baba E. I’m really happy you’re here.”

Erik kissed her forehead and squeezed his arms a little tighter around her.

“Thank you for letting me.”

He was answered with her cute snores and let the sound lull him into the best sleep he’d had in too long of a while.

#erik killmonger #erik kilmonger x reader #Erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fanfiction #black panther #erik stevens #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik stevens x reader #fictioninmybloodworks #fictioninmyblood #erik stevens x black!reader

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frostironfudge · 1 year

Text

I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there.

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features.

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family.

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other.

Won together.

Lost together.

In the past few days died together.

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory.

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago.

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor.

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder.

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it.

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.”

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?”

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head.

Wanda looks down at her hands.

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all.

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?”

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you.

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off.

“I know, I did too.”

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone.

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart.

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him.

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows.

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him.

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places.

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.”

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene.

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static.

“Wh-what?”

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you.

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens.

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans.

You stand there dumbfounded.

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor.

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you.

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body.

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you.

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain.

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.”

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face.

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing.

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell.

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam.

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated

that about the company’s past.

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you.

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away.

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems.

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together.

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia.

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed.

Opening it reveals a burner phone.

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle.

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it.

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him.

Opening the text.

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain.

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol.

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair.

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?”

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink.

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync.

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun.

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.”

“So confident.” You raise your brows.

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes.

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck.

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face.

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes.

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again.

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you.

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own.

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.”

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late.

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel.

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down.

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.”

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?”

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him.

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand.

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head.

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle.

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well.

Both of you burst out laughing.

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room.

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?”

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers.

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered.

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart.

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes.

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow.

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself.

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself.

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him.

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level.

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights.

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him.

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him.

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them.

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried.

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab.

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn.

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup.

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own.

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more.

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him.

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD.

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him.

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts.

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare.

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits.

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury.

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair.

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all.

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff.

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes.

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds.

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods.

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder.

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow.

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.”

No one nods.

Nick shakes his head leaving the room.

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder.

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further.

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh.

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan.

Nat and Sam stare at you.

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched.

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze.

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust.

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.”

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile.

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead.

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone.

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back.

His mouth opens again to speak.

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?”

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out.

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting.

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head.

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators.

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator.

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him.

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away.

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator.

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you.

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers.

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again.

People trickle in and out.

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you.

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him.

Finally it's just the two of you.

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender.

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched.

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker.

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him.

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes.

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge.

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him.

“You lied?” You repeat.

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,”

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up.

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,”

The doors open to your floor, you step out.

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!”

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door.

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading.

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over.

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place.

Mixed training was now mandatory.

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you.

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties.

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down.

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh.

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh.

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.”

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen.

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you.

You grin at him.

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Y/N.”

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there.

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench.

Sam takes his arm away.

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem.

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news.

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.”

You glare at him, “Alright.”

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough.

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout.

You frown in recognition.

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him.

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead.

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans.

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands.

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space.

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you.

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper.

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps.

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area.

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.”

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path.

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward.

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him.

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate.

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck.

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him?

Why do you miss him?

He hurt you.

He lied.

He hurt you.

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway.

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way.

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall.

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!”

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you.

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing.

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous.

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps.

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort.

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across.

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew.

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you.

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it.

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him.

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,”

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place.

Your palms cover his, you look up at him.

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him.

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view.

“Poppet, something is wrong.”

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled?

Why was he falling to his knees?

You look behind him, people standing and watching.

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield.

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up.

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body.

Steve keeps his eyes closed.

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers.

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath.

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them.

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration.

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm.

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher.

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend.

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.”

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own.

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city.

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside.

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair.

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you.

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...”

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors.

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core.

“Steve—,”

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you.

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns.

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?”

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out.

“I see and why is she yours?”

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.”

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling.

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked.

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper.

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place.

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.”

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch.

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him.

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured.

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.”

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed.

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper.

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again.

“You can’t have him at risk again!”

“I won’t let you die!”

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you.

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.”

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts.

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,”

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.”

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out.

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features.

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him.

“He’s in the United Kingdom.”

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?”

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!”

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you.

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive.

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way.

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain.

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault.

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad.

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.”

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento.

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across.

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows.

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off.

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him.

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over.

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him.

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief.

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well.

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away.

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin.

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you.

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there.

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop.

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek.

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you.

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,”

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall.

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you.

When your thighs clench around him, Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos.

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before.

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched.

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him.

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy.

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders.

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture.

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly.

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet.

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek.

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 1 year

Text

I’ve Got You

Summary: Y/n always finds safety in Natashas arms, so it stands to reason that after she was injured in the Avengers fight with themselves that she would seek her out. This time though Natasha offers more than just safety, she offers Y/n her heart.

Warnings: some very slight angst, reader has a penis, sexual content(grinding, oral, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex)

Word count: 5109 Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Natasha sighs as anxiety consumes her once more. She's safe in her safehouse, well trailer, in Norway now but she still hasn’t heard anything about you since the fight in Germany and she's extremely worried for your safety. She wishes she at least knew your whereabouts. Knew if you were safe somewhere. Knew if you needed her help, or even just needed her like she needed you.

You and Clint had been the ones sent to kill her, and she's forever grateful you both chose a different option. She was trained by you both to become a Shield agent, causing her to form a fast friendship with you both. Clint had become like the older brother, whether she wanted him to be or not. And you, well you had become her best friend. But she'd be lying if she said friendship was all she felt for you. You make her feel things no one ever has before, things she hopes you feel for her as well.

She's never been great with feelings or emotions, the Red Room made sure of that, but with you she would be willing to try. If she could ever gain the courage to tell you so, that is. She wanted to tell you, she really did. But the fear of you not reciprocating those feelings, or of her not being good enough for you won out everytime.

But now, after being on opposite sides during the accords, seeing you get beat up pretty badly by T’challa before almost getting captured by Ross’s men….She knows she has to tell you, because she can’t risk losing you like that again.

For now, as she waits to hear from Mason about any news of you, she settles in to watch her Bond films and eat her caviar. She tries to ignore the pit in her stomach, but without you by her side nothing seemed to feel right.

She's brought out of her thoughts by a shuffling sound outside. She quickly arms herself with her pistol, standing to head to the door only for it to slowly open before she gets there.

“I will shoot whoever walks in that door!” she calls out

A familiar chuckle has her lowering her gun, “You wouldn’t shoot me, would you Natty?”

“Y/n?”

“You know anyone else that calls you Natty?” you tease as you open the door fully, allowing her to see you. She's shocked by your state, you look awful. Like you haven’t had rest since Germany, which was highly likely. You stumble into her living room and nearly collapse, but she catches you instead.

“What happened? Are you ok?” she asks in quick succession as her worried eyes scan your face

“Well, I didn’t really have a chance to tend to my wounds from T’challa before Ross’s men were on me. Managed to evade them for a bit but they almost got me the second time. I’ll be alright, just gotta clean up and get some rest” you tell her, attempting to pull away and stand on your own, but she can see how weak and tired you are

Her hold on you tightens, “Let me help you, please”

Too tired to pretend you can handle it yourself, you nod and let her lead you to the small bathroom. You sigh as she leans you against the counter, and you let your head rest against the wall as you rest your eyes. You can hear her rummage around for the first aid kit, a washcloth and some extra towels. Once she finds the items she gains your attention with a soft hand to your cheek.

“Where are you hurt?”

You shake your head, “Its ok, I can- ”

“Y/n” she sternly says, “You can hardly stand. I’m helping you.”

“Ok” you sigh.

You carefully remove your shirt, letting her see the bruises and scrapes that litter your abdomen and chest below your bra. Her eyes land on a hastily bandaged section of the right side of your abs, blood starting to seep through. You can see the concern etched in her brows.

“The Panther's claws.” you tell her and she nods

She gently removes the bandages, causing you to hiss as the cool night air hits your wound. You watch as she runs the hot water, getting a washcloth damp before bringing it to your side. You grunt as she cleans it. She then pours alcohol on the same washcloth, bringing it to your skin once more. This time a gasp leaves you as pain ripples through your side. Again she cups your face to offer comfort.

“Shh, detka(baby). It’s ok.” she coos, not even noticing the pet name slipping past her lips, “Now I just have to give you stitches, put ointment on, and then new waterproof bandages so you can shower.”

You nod again, watching her grab the proper stitching materials. You clench your jaw as the needle pierces your skin repeatedly, closing up the four lacerations. You're relieved once she puts ointment on and it's rebandaged. “Thanks Tasha”

“Of course, do you have any other injuries?” she asks, obviously still concerned about you

“Yeah..” you sigh, “Left thigh. One of Ross’s guys was quick with his knife.”

Her face shows even more concern, and she instinctively moves for your waistband. But then it hits her just how vulnerable this must all feel for you and she can’t help the blush that rises to her cheeks as she hesitates, “Can I…?"

You chuckle, "Don't know how you'd stitch me up otherwise"

She nods and proceeds to pull them down around your knee. The slice is caked in dried blood, a small trickle still running down your thigh.

“Shit, this looks pretty deep.” she exclaims, getting up to grab the washcloth

She runs it under warm water again, watching you out of the corner of her eye as she does so. Your breathing seems normal, but you're definitely exhausted. You need rest, food, and plenty of water. She's determined to give you all those things and won’t take no for an answer. She won’t let you give an excuse about how the team being separate will be safer and how you only came to her because you knew she'd have the supplies you needed to tend your wounds. Not that she thought you'd say that, but the fear of you leaving now that you were here with her was immense.

You grunt as she presses the cloth over your wound. She's careful, yet tentative enough to get most of the dried blood off you. She rinses the cloth out, pouring alcohol on it before approaching you again. Her eyes rake over your body once more, just to make sure you aren't hiding anything from her and she's glad you're too tired to have your eyes open, otherwise you would have seen her blush when the slight bulge at the front of your boxers caught her gaze. She quickly refocused on the task at hand, pressing the cloth against your thigh again.

“Fuck!” you shout, not expecting it to burn worse than your side had

Natashas apologetic eyes meet yours, “I know. I’m so sorry, it'll be over soon.”

Her free hand instinctively rests on your abdomen as she rubs soothing circles on your skin. You nod, knowing it has to be cleaned no matter how much pain that brings. She removes the cloth and grabs the equipment for stitching you up once more. You clench your jaw as she works to close up the wound. Her soft hands remain on your thigh a few seconds longer than necessary after she bandages you up, not that you mind.

“There. That should do for now, but I’ll need to redress them again tomorrow.” she says as she stands, “Are you going to need help?”

“I can manage” you tell her, not believing it entirely yourself but you knew that if you were ever privileged to see Natasha naked, you didn’t want it to be because you needed help while injured.

She nods, “Alright, I’ll leave you some clothes on the counter and I’ll be in the next room in case you need me”

You let your shoulders slump as she closes the door and you take a shaky step towards the shower. Eventually you manage to get your bra and boxers off and you step into the already running hot water. You let yourself relax, holding yourself up by leaning against the cool tiles. The door opens and you tense up slightly before remembering it was just Nat with your clothes.

You don’t realize she lingers a moment, wishing to check on you and longing to be able to join you. She decides against asking if you were alright, not wanting to come across as overly concerned, even though she was. She simply sets your outfit down before exiting the room once more. She takes a seat on the edge of her bed and waits as her leg bounces with anxiety. Part of her wants to tell you how she feels, to hold you and never let go. But the other part screams at her about love being a weakness, about how you deserve someone with a less bloodstained ledger and hard to escape past.

She's brought from her thoughts when you emerge from the bathroom, a slight wobble to your step. She has to resist smiling like the lovesick woman she is when she sees you in her sweatpants and shirt.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Just tired.” you reply, not wanting to tell her you couldn’t remember when your last meal was. She always has been good at calling your bluffs though, she was a trained spy afterall.

She smirks, “Want some take out? I've got plenty of leftovers from earlier.”

You sigh, “Yes please.”

“Come on, we can sit on the couch and watch something as we eat.”

“What Bond film did I interrupt?” you ask with a chuckle

She scoffs, pretending to be annoyed that you knew her so well, “Moonraker”

“Not one of the best ones, but not one of the worst ones either.” you reply, earning yourself an eye roll from her.

You sit on the couch and soon she joins you, takeout containers in hand. She doesn't say anything as she watches you scarf down the food, she only smiles knowing that she's able to take care of you. You sit back with a hum as you absentmindedly scoot closer to her, seeking out comfort and warmth. It isn’t long before you end up falling asleep tucked into her side with your head on her shoulder.

Carefully she turns, bringing you into her chest as she lays back, her arms wrap protectively around you as your head now rests on her chest. She watches you for a bit, wanting to make sure you were sound asleep before she places a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m so glad you're safe” she whispers into your hairline

She isn't aware of when she fell asleep and she isn't aware as to why she's suddenly woken up, until she realizes she no longer feels the weight of you on top of her. She immediately sits up, and when she doesn't see you anywhere she can feel her panic build.

“Y/n?” she calls out as she enters the bedroom. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she'd been holding when she sees you emerge from the bathroom

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you tell her, “I just needed some pain killers”

She shakes her head, “It’s ok, did you find them?”

“Yeah, I got them.” your brows furrow as you notice her disheveled state, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…” she trails off, but your hand on her shoulder encourages her to continue, “I was worried that you left.”

Her admission was quiet but you heard it, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice. It tugged at your heart. “I’d never leave without saying goodbye first Natty. Besides, I’m much too injured to travel right now. I’m lucky I made it to Norway.”

“Don’t say that” she says, taking a seat on the bed

“Tasha, I was bleeding profusely on the airplane runway, which led Ross’s men right to me. I had to fight them off and flee while patching myself up as well as I could. Then once I thought I’d lost them, they ambushed me in Serbia and nearly sliced my artery open. You were my only safe option, if I hadn’t found you…well it wouldn’t have been good” you reason with her

Her jaw clenches as she looks away from you. She fights back the tears in her eyes, not liking how close of a call you had actually had, “I should have helped you. I shouldn't have talked with Tony and then ran, I should have just gone to you and ran with you.”

“It’s ok, you- ” you try

“No Y/n” she takes a deep breath, “I saw that you were hurt fighting T’challa, and still I went to help Steve instead. Ross could have had you arrested or worse, and instead of making sure you were safe, I saved my own ass.”

You sigh and take a seat beside her. You gently grab her hand, “You couldn’t have risked helping me and you know it. You double crossed Tony and Ross and we both know neither of their egos would allow that to go unpunished. They would have used your background against you”

“I don’t care. You could have died, and I never would have forgiven myself” she admits

“But I didn’t.” you remind her, “I didn’t die. I’m ok.” She finally looks at you and you can see the unshed tears in her eyes. You smile softly, cupping her face and bringing your forehead to hers, “I’m right here.”

She nods as a few tears finally slip down her cheeks, “I was really worried about you. I’m glad you found me”

“So am I” you admit, “Though, it’s more like Mason found me, then told me where you were.”

She chuckles, “Well, I’ll be sure to thank him. Even if he did give me Fanny as an alias.”

“He didn’t!” you laugh out

“Oh he did. Fanny Longbottom.”

The two of you erupt into laughter as you think about the ridiculous name. Her gaze shifts to you smile, the one she's always loved to be the cause of and your gaze shifts to her eyes, you have always loved how they seemed to sparkle when she was happy.

Lost in her eyes, you don’t notice how you've begun to lean into her, you only notice when your lips lightly press against hers. But you quickly pull away, afraid she wouldn’t reciprocate the gesture or would be upset with your advances. However your attempt to move away is quickly stopped by her arms as they wrap around your neck to keep you close.

“No, please” she rasps out, her hands tangling in your hair, “Please kiss me”

You surge forward, connecting your lips once more as your hands grip at her waist. She hums and gently straddles your lap, careful of your injured leg as she grinds down against you. Your hands make their way under the back of her shirt, traveling up her back and leaving chills in their wake. She moans, allowing you to slip your tongue inside her mouth.

She grinds down again, and this time she can feel how the bulge in your pants is beginning to harden as it presses against her ass. You can’t help the moan that leaves you as you feel her against you. Her excitement and hope for finally getting to be with you grows the longer you keep your lips on hers.

She pulls away, nearling panting for air as she grinds down once more. And your mouth moves to her neck as your hands go further up her back. She relishes the groan she feels against her skin when you realize she's already braless and she shudders as your hands move to the front of her, gently running up her abdomen before palming her breasts. You can feel her breathing quicken as your thumb skims over her hardened nipples. She grinds against you again and you squeeze the soft mounds in your grip causing her to moan.

“Is this ok?” you breathe against her neck between kisses

She eagerly nods, “Yes…please don’t stop”

You move back up her neck, kissing her softly as your hands grab the bottom of her shirt. You pull it off her and nearly forget how to breathe when you see her naked upper body in front of you. Yes you'd seen her in tank tops before for training and immaculate dresses for parties, but this was entirely different. Before you had to admire subtly from across dancefloors and training mats. You didn’t have to do that now, she wanted you to see her. All of her.

Natasha shys under your gaze, finding herself somewhat nervous as your eyes take in every inch of her. Some of her scars had never been seen by anyone other than her and those that inflicted them or stitched them up and she worried what you would think of them. Your thumb gently traces a longer scar that rests slightly lower than her breasts near her sternum causing her to realize how badly she wants your hands back on her. She's about to ask you to touch her again like you were earlier, but then your head is moving towards her chest and as your lips touch her skin she finds it very hard to form words.

"Y/n…" she whispers, clutching at your forearms to ground herself

You hum, briefly pulling yourself away from her chest, “You're so beautiful Natty”

A shy smile makes its way across her face, accompanied by a light blush and the way she squeezes her thighs together does not go unnoticed by you. You gently kiss the scar again before moving over to one of her breasts. You suck her hardened nipple into your mouth causing her hands to grasp at your shoulders as she arches into you. Your hands move to squeeze her ass as your mouth moves to give her other breast the same attention. She moans when she feels your hardened cock rubbing against her, and she finds herself desperate to feel you inside her. She can feel her arousal dripping from her and she knows her panties are ruined.

“I want you, detka(baby). Need you so badly, please” she whispers against your lips as they meet hers for another kiss. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly remove her from your lap and lean her against the beds pillows and headboard

You stare at her for a moment, taking in the way her lips are slightly parted and her chest heaves as she breathes deeply. Then you meet her gaze, “Are you sure?”

“Yes” she nods, “I’ve never been more sure about anything, or anyone”

You smile before connecting your lips to hers again, letting your hands trail down to her hips before moving them back up to cup her breasts. She desperately clutches at your shirt, overcome with the urge to have you as close as possible despite already having you there. Your hands make their way back down to her hips and your fingers slip below the waistband, ready to pull them down completely. But before you can do so her hands grab your wrists and she pulls away from your lips. She pauses for a moment, her eyes scanning your face.

“You're sure about this too, right?” she asks, insecurity lacing her tone

“Of course I am. I only want you.”

She smiles widely, letting go of your wrists so you can continue to pull her pants from her body, and you stare in amazement at the wet patch that you find on her underwear. She shifts slightly under your gaze, wordlessly trying to hasten your movements.

“You're soaked” you whisper as you let your thumb press the damp fabric against her clit, making her hips jump, “And so sensitive”

She lets out a breathy moan as you rub your thumb in slow circles and her grip on your shirt tightens, “Need more. Please detka(baby)”

“Aww, is my thumb not enough for my needy girl?”

She shakes her head, “No, need your cock please. Wanna feel you”

“Fuck baby…I wanna feel you too, but I gotta get you ready for me first.” you explain as you finally pull her underwear off her. She automatically spreads her legs further apart for you and you praise her by caressing her thigh, “Gonna taste you first though”

Her breath catches in her throat as you lean in, your tongue kitten licking her sensitive nub before parting her open and slipping inside, “Ooh!”

You hum, enjoying the flavor of her and her hands grip onto your hair tightly, practically forcing you to bury your face in her cunt. Not that you would complain about such a thing, you’d gladly give her whatever she wanted. Which is why you slip a finger inside her too. You pump your digit in and out of her at a steady rhythm as your mouth focuses on her clit until she's nearly dripping onto the sheets. Then you slip a second one in. She moans at the stretch, arching into you

“That's it. You're taking my fingers so well baby.” you praise, curling them inside her making her walls clamp down around you, “Does it feel good, Natty?”

“Blyad'(fuck)! Yes!” she answers, fists tightening in the sheets

You hum, “You like having my fingers inside you?”

“Oh god yes!” she's cut off by her own moan as you move your fingers even faster, “I’m…I’m gonna- ”

“Go ahead baby, cum for me”

“Y/n!” she shouts as she cums into your mouth. You happily swallow it all and continue your mouths and fingers movements to help her ride out her high, only stopping when her grip on your hair lessens and she whimpers in protest

You crawl back up her body, placing soft kisses against a few scars before reaching her lips once more. She sighs as you rest against her and wraps her arms around your neck as you make out. Eventually her hands begin to tug at your shirt and you separate to allow her to pull it off you.

You chuckle as she simply stares at your chest licking her lips, and you move one of her hands to your breasts, “You can touch”

That's all the encouragement she needs and she brings her other hand to your other breast, letting her thumbs rub against your nipples as they harden in the cool air. She brings her mouth forward and latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as her hand pinches the other and you moan at the sensation

Wanting to make you feel just as good as you’d made her feel minutes ago she lets her free hand wander down between your bodies, and you're so focused on the feeling of her mouth as it makes its way up to your neck that you don’t even notice her hand slip your pants and boxers down, freeing your cock, until her lithe fingers are wrapping around you.

“Shit Y/n” she mumbles as she slowly begins stroking you, your size surprising her slightly. Your hips jerk forward at the sensation and it doesn’t take her long to find a decent pace, your breathy moans and grunts only encouraging her

“Just like that baby, feels so good” you grunt, resting your forehead against her collarbone

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” she asks, rubbing her thumb against the large vein on your shaft

You rut into her hand, “Fuck! Yes!”

“Come on detka(baby), cum”

Spurts of white hit your stomach and hers as you release and the way you moan has arousal pooling in her belly once more. After a few more strokes she lets you go and you practically collapse against her as you regain your composure. Her hand comes into view, a few drops of your cum on it still, and you watch as she cleans them off with her tongue. That action alone has you getting hard again and she smirks when she feels it.

“You like watching me taste you?”

“You don’t even know” you groan out, moving positions to be above her once more, “You ready for me baby?”

She nods, “God yes, please”

You line yourself up with her entrance and smack the head of your dick against her clit a few times before sliding inside. You bottom out in one swift movement and a guttural moan leaves her at the feeling of being stretched so wide. She's even tighter than you thought she'd be and the way she's squeezing you already has you light headed, so you still for a moment to allow you both to adjust.

After a few minutes she wiggles her hips slightly, her green eyes boring into yours, “Please move now. I can handle it, I promise”

You smile and kiss her softly before slowly beginning to thrust your hips. Her tits bounce as you move and you can’t help but lean down to suck marks against their plump flesh. Her moans only increase in frequency and volume as your pace picks up and her hands grip onto you so tightly that you know her nails will be leaving marks behind.

“Your pussy fits me so well baby. Feels incredible” you praise, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing

“O bozhe(Oh god).” she manages to get out between her moans, “I’ve never been so full, feels so fucking good”

“Gonna be even more full when I cum inside you” You tell her, moaning as her walls flutter around you, “Oh you like that huh?”

She nods, “Yes, please cum inside me detka(baby)”

You start pounding into her even harder then, eager to give her what you both so desperately want. After a few more thrusts she wraps her legs around you, and you can feel by the way she tightens around you that she's close.

“That's it baby, make a mess on my cock”

She throws her head back with a moan of your name as she cums hard around you, sending you head first into your own orgasm. You moan as you paint her walls white with your seed. You continue to thrust your hips to prolong the pleasure for both of you only stopping when she's a shaking mess beneath you.

“Shh it's ok Natty I got you.” you coo, stroking her cheek, “You did so well baby. Such a good girl”

“Your good girl” she mumbles with a smile, making your chest fill with warmth

You nod and bring your forehead to rest against hers, “My good girl”

After a few more minutes you slowly pull out of her, watching a bit of you cum leak out of her as you do and she's struck by how full she still feels. She can’t even imagine how much cum you pumped inside of her for that to be the case. The thought alone has her head all fuzzy.

“Come on, let's get cleaned up in the shower really quick. Then we can go back to sleep”

She nods and allows you to help her out of bed. You help her stumble to the bathroom and can’t help but giggle at the look of bliss on her face still and she quiets you with a kiss before letting you turn the water on. You both help clean the other, each feeling a sense of pride at the marks you’ve left behind on the other and even after you're done washing you stay a while longer just basking in the other's presence.

Neither of you bother to put on another outfit after you dry off, the likelihood of them coming off in the morning is high so why bother. Instead you simply crawl into bed and under the warm covers. You open your arms for her and she immediately settles against you. She wraps her arms around you and buries her face against your neck. It's silent for a while, and for a few minutes there you think she's asleep, until she moves to look at you properly.

“You're staying, right?” The insecurity in her tone nearly breaks your heart, but before you can answer she continues, “I mean I know Steve said we’re all safer apart from each other, but that's bullshit because there's nowhere I’m safer than with you, and I…I just got you back. I just got to be with you. I’m not ready to say goodbye”

You softly kiss the small scar on her left shoulder before kissing her lips, “My Natty. So brave, so strong. You're not alone anymore, I’ve got you. And I’m not leaving your side. Not now, not ever. Not even if you told me to.”

Tears build in her eyes as she lets your words settle over her. She didn’t have to be alone, didn’t have to build walls and hide emotions just to survive. She could be fully herself with you, she could be free. She could let herself be loved, let herself be happy. It wouldn't be easy and there were sure to be hard days, but she finally felt like she could do it. As long as she had you.

Her hands cup your face, “I….I love you” Your eyes widen at her admission. Even if she ever felt the same for you, you didn’t expect her to allow herself to be vulnerable enough to say it. Especially so soon.

She bites her bottom lip and her stomach flips as she waits for your response, thankfully it's a short wait. “I love you too, Natasha. More than anything.”

Her lips crash into yours and you each poor out your emotions for the other into it. You aren’t sure how long it lasts, you were too lost in her to think of anything else, but when she pulls away she stays close enough that her nose is brushing against yours. You smile at each other before the most adorable carefree giggle leaves the redhead in your embrace.

You give her a quizzical look so she elaborates on her giddiness, “Madame B was wrong. I do have a place in this world. My place is with you.”

“Yes it is baby, yes it is”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 3 months

Text

— his colours —

Warnings: angst, fluff, sad!bucky, liquor consumption

Summary: Bucky might be too late to tell you how he feels.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: An idea that popped up in my head and finally broke through the struggle I've been having while writing. Enjoy and feast upon this! Also add yourself to the taglist(s) >here<

Steve narrowed his eyes at the brooding figure in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what exactly was itching in his brain.

Bucky had always been a charmer, and a damn good one at that. From when he first met Steve’s mother, Sarah, sporting a few bruises and a busted lip, to when he was getting drafted in the war.

Sarah was a kind woman, but that didn’t mean she trusted easily. With Steve’s father and a few relatives that turned away in their time of need, Sarah fell apart with her own friends and family. Her trust dwindled and started to dim until Steve showed up with Bucky in tow after school. She was weary at first, perhaps thinking that Bucky was no good news, but as the days progressed along with their friendship, she started viewing him as a son. He was around every few days for dinner, bringing a few things that he passed along as extra food the maid had conveniently accidentally brought with her.

It didn’t take too long for Sarah to put two and two together, but she never said anything to him. Never scolded him for bringing food to their dinner. She knew he did it out of love, not pity or sympathy. He loved Steve as a brother and looked up at Sarah with a boyish grin that made it impossible for her to be mad.

Steve watched Bucky now, remembering the days when Bucky would simply grab any shirt and pants to wear, grinning as he told Steve about this new dame that had moved into town. He was confident and struck with features that had any woman falling into his arms with just one lopsided smile. A few more grins and some dances later, the woman would offer to leave. Sometimes Bucky would agree with dimples, other times he would politely refuse and say he wanted to do things right.

Bucky lacked that confidence now, Steve realised, eyebrows rising slightly on his face. It wasn’t evident at first glance. Bucky was steady and graceful, not once faltering in his movements as he knotted his tie. Nor as he shrugged on his blazer. It was when his eyes would flicker over the mirror in front of him. It was obvious when his hand brushed over a spot on his shoulder a few times and fixed his tie to sit straight. Even more so when he fixed the collar of his shirt and then his blazer, only to find his hair sitting slightly off and fixing that instead.

“You’re nervous,” Steve breathed out, breaking the comfortable silence that they had been in for a few minutes. Bucky paused his actions for a second before seemingly deciding to ignore his comment. Steve watched him pull his shirt sleeves under his blazer, jaw ticking when he caught Steve’s eyes through the mirror.

“I’m not,” he said simply, as if that ended the conversation. Steve was curious though. Never in his life had he seen Bucky nervous for a social gathering, much less a party that Tony was throwing. After the whole debacle in DC, Bucky had recovered well and fast, thanks to T’Challa’s favour and Shuri’s brains. His memories were hazy at times and he had nightmares—sometimes he had to be restrained by Steve—but that was four years ago.

Over the past two years, Bucky was able to sleep throughout the night at least four nights in a week. Those night terrors had decreased to about five in the past year or so and his memories had been recovered. He remembered the diner that had been down the block from Steve’s house, the smell of his mother’s cinnamon buns, and the wretched taste of mud and blood in his mouth during the war. His social etiquette returned and Tony started inviting him to parties that Bucky had no problem attending. He was more than happy to indulge women and men in his charms once again.

“Yes, you are,” Steve deadpanned, sitting up straighter when Bucky shook his head and sighed. His hands came down from his tie that he was adjusting again. He looked at Steve through the mirror before turning around to face him and dropped the hand that had come up to check his hair.

“What makes you think that?” Bucky asked instead. Steve knew he was deflecting the question, but gave in and nodded at his form.

“That.” Steve nodded at him again. Bucky frowned and looked down at his clothes, arms going up at his sides. Just as Bucky was about to speak again, Steve cut in. “You’ve been looking at yourself over and over again.” Steve watched Bucky carefully before realization dawned on him.

“You’re nervous ‘cause she’s going to be there,” he voiced out in a breathless manner. Steve hadn’t even thought of that and he inwardly cursed at himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course, the reason Bucky was nervous was because of the one person who seemed to be able to throw Bucky off his charms.

Bucky opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped short when Steve raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. He closed his mouth and averted his eyes as if his eyes would give away the feeling that was smothering him slowly. He licked his lips, turning his attention to a lint that had stuck onto his pants. His hands were sweaty, but he kept them steady as he picked at the lint and smoothed out the wrinkle at his chest. His nerves were acting up today, for this party, simply because you were coming back from Greece.

“She hasn’t been here in two years,” Bucky finally said, sighing as he brought his eyes back up to meet Steve’s gentle gaze. His shoulders fell with an exhale, trying to calm his thudding heart and roaring ears. “She hasn’t seen me since—since I was still recovering.” When Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, Bucky knew he didn’t understand what he meant.

“But you guys kept in contact the entire time,” Steve mumbled, grabbing his shoes to put them on and keeping his head down. It gave Bucky a chance to turn around without the annoying glare Steve would send his way for trying to cut the conversation off.

Bucky did keep in contact with you when he could. He had texted you everyday for the first three months and sent daily reminders to eat because he knew you would forget while working. The texts had abruptly stopped from his end when he was called away on a SHIELD stealth mission. That meant he had called you the second he was able to, throwing off his shoes and tossing his duffel bag away, he called you. You didn’t pick up. He called again and again, but then registered that you were probably asleep.

He went through your texts, ranging from the top ones of concern to the bottom ones of realization to the last few that varied from your daily tasks. His heart had never felt heavier. The suffocating feeling lingered on his shoulders as he forced himself to lay down. He just couldn’t let go of his phone or turn his head off. He kept his phone on his chest, hair dampening the pillow as he laid awake staring at the ceiling. He kept wishing you called back, but you didn’t. He texted you in the morning with heavy eyes, drooping shut every now and then.

You responded and he started texting like usual, only this time it was rare for you to reply in the same day. His social battery lowered and he usually found himself in the corner with a drink or leaving early with a quick excuse. He never asked why the texts had been reduced. He was too scared of getting an answer his heart couldn’t handle. His heart already ached with each passing day you two spent apart, not knowing how you were doing. He wouldn’t be able to text you if you told him that you had met someone and were busy with them.

He was a coward. A coward for not telling how he felt when you left.

You were the only one that didn’t tip-toe around him and treat him like he was made of porcelain. You were gentle, but that didn’t stop you from telling him exactly what you thought. You respected his boundaries that had been set quietly. You didn’t touch him before telling him and asking if it was okay, but you also told him that he should get used to people not asking before touching as well. You kept your distance from his left side if you two walked together, knowing very well he still wasn’t over the murder and torture it had executed.

It was easy to fall for you. You made it so easy for him to stumble, trip, and fall in.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was tinged with concern and worry, a small crack seeping through the vowel. Bucky’s eyes flickered up, hands unconsciously sliding down his front to smoothen out his shirt again.

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah, we did.” His throat burned with the white lie. You two had stopped texting each other three weeks ago with a simple ‘goodnight’ from the both of you.

Steve stood up, his light blue blazer and pants with the white shirt made the green flecks in his eyes pop and the blue seem darker. Steve looked over at him once, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought as his eyes swiped over his outfit. From the black loafers to the midnight blue pants to the matching blazer and black shirt to the silver tie he had worn. In a few seconds, Bucky watched Steve’s confused face morph into one of amusement.

“You wore her colours,” he declared with an annoyingly smug grin. He fixed his cuffs as he stared at Bucky who cleared his throat at the accusation.

Bucky felt his cheeks warm with the obvious choice. It was unintentional at first, picking out the silver tie and blue blazer, but Bucky had realized soon enough that they were your signature colours. He was looking for your colours when he shopped. He had stopped and picked out a few blazers in different styles and some with patterns, but they had all been a dark blue colour. His ties at the last few events had some incoherent swirls of silver. His hair had been swept to the side since you had complimented it styles like that.

Bucky ignored Steve’s expression and gruffed out, “We should go.” Steve somehow agreed and started for the door, but stopped short with his hand on the knob.

“You should tell her how you feel tonight,” Steve said gently before twisting the knob and stepping into the hallway. Bucky could hear the loud metal music blasting through the Compound then, his door wide open as Steve made his way down the hall towards what Tony liked to call the party room. Bucky swallowed thickly, the burning feeling back in his throat, and followed Steve down the hall.

Steve stopped in front of the doors with a wicked grin. “Thor brought his Asgardian liquor,” he told him, emitting an easy grin from Bucky. That was a good thing, Bucky thought. If he had to face you tonight, talk to you maybe, he wouldn’t be able to do it sober.

Steve pushed open the doors and spread out his arms to announce his arrival. Bucky rolled his eyes and pushed past him, straight to the bar where Natasha was standing with Clint while Thor made drinks. With the heavy music now over, a pop song that he had heard once or twice before playing, he could hear the clinks of glasses and chatters humming in the air. The dance floor was bustling with SHIELD agents that had been invited as per Tony’s request. He didn’t know all of them, but he could recognise a few as he walked by.

“Ah, Bucky!” Clint greeted, patting him on the back and drawing him nearer. His hand was wrapped around a bottle of vodka that Bucky was sure was Natasha’s favourite. It was the strongest stuff in the bar—other than the Asgardian liquor, of course. “Settle a debate for us, will ya?” Bucky inwardly grimaced at the smell of vodka on his breath and slightly pulled back.

“What’s it?” Bucky asked, looking between the three of them with a grin. He leaned against the bar island just as Thor came over with Asgardian liquor. He dropped a small pail of ice near him and nodded at it. Bucky nodded back his thanks.

“How long that guy’ll last here,” Clint said with a loopy grin. He took a swing out of the bottle, looking over at Natasha with a wag of his eyebrows. “I say two weeks before he runs.” Bucky took a sip of his drink, eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting to Natasha for answers. Clint was clearly teetering on the brink of tipsy and drunk, slurring his words together. Natasha was perched on the stool with a sober expression on her face while her eyes were fixed on Bucky.

“Wait,” Bucky breathed out with a light chuckle, “who are we talkin’ about?” He pushed off the island and looked at Natasha expectantly. The pop music had turned into slow, smooth jazz-type of music that was almost sensual. Natasha leaned forward, towards Bucky as if she was going to share a secret. To his surprise and confusion, Natasha’s eyes softened with something close to pity.

“Y/N’s boyfriend, Sohan,” she whispered, her emerald eyes flickering towards the dance floor.

Bucky’s eyes followed her eyesight, painfully slowly, to the dance floor where you danced with Sohan. He was a dark-haired and dark-eyed man with lightly tanned skin. The blood rushed to his ears, heart thudding violently in his ears as he watched Sohan lean in towards you. He looked away before your lips made contact. He felt as if someone had dumped that pail of ice down his back. A shiver licked up his spine and he downed his drink, eyes and throat burning with the harsh liquor.

“So, what d’you think, Buckaroo?” Clint asked and leaned forward to lay on the island, oblivious to the feelings coursing through Bucky.

Bucky slammed his glass down loudly enough to grab Thor’s attention. “Get me the whole bottle, please,” he gritted out angrily. Thor looked uncomfortable with the glance Natasha sent him, but he gave over one of the few bottles he had brought with the scowl setting onto Bucky’s face.

Bucky swiped the bottle off the table and popped open the cork. He put it to his mouth and looked over his shoulder to see you speaking into Sohan’s ear. His eyes quickly drank you in. The black dress you wore had a corset that clung to your torso and accentuated your curves. The tulle flared out slightly and the fabric underneath it was decorated with delicate gold accents.

They were his colours.

He spun around and chugged faster, ignoring the look Thor was giving Natasha.

“Two hours,” Bucky muttered out and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His throat felt like it was on fire. Somewhere, in the more logical side of his brain, he knew he shouldn’t drink so fast. Thor’s eyebrows pinched in concern when he saw the half empty bottle.

“Bucky, I think that—” Thor cut himself off at the withering glare Bucky sent his way. Before Bucky had a chance to feel guilty about his behaviour, Thor turned away with a small smile to attend to another attendee.

Bucky bitterly reminded himself that he had no reason to be angry at anyone, but himself. The slow songs changed into heavy rock again, Tony’s enthusiastic voice echoing amongst the drums and guitars. He brought up his hand to run it through his hair, shaking with emotions he couldn’t place. It wasn’t pure anger or jealousy. Heartbreak perhaps. He took another large gulp and felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder.

He looked over, a scowl on his face and intentions to tell the person to fuck off, but the words died on his lips when he saw your face.

Your lips were painted a deep red and stretched out into a gentle smile. Your hair tumbled down in soft curls that made him want to hide his face in it. A smither of glitter on your nose and peaks of your cheekbones highlight your face, contrasting it from the smokey eyeshadow and black eyeliner coating your eyes. He hadn’t noticed the sheer fabric that covered your stomach, showing off skin when the light hit it just right.The urge to spin you around, kiss your cheeks, lips, neck, was strong. He held back.

He could tell you put effort into your makeup so he grinned through his heartbreak and said, “Don’t you look like something outta a fairytale?” He wasn’t sure if you would fall into the category of pretty princesses or of attractive villains. His thoughts were muddled, even more so with the liquor starting to take effect. He would regret drinking so much in the morning. If he made it through the night, at least.

“Thank you, Buck,” you said with a grin. He couldn’t just call it a grin though, not when it set every fiber of his body on fire. His head spun when you let your eyes glide over his body through hooded lids. “You look handsome, too.”

Your fingers delicately pressed into his shoulder before sliding towards his neck to adjust his collar and then his ties. He could feel your hand burn through his shirt, branding his skin with your print, resting it just over his heart. He could have sworn he felt an electric shock course through his veins when you patted his chest. When you grinned, the teasing one that you sent him during boring meetings, he felt his shoulders relax from their tense state. He grinned back automatically, forgetting about his breaking heart and the man you were here with when you were looking at him just like you looked at him before.

“How are you?” You asked, pulling away and waving to Thor. You acted as if nothing was wrong. As if he was the only one who felt the heat of tension and urges of desire, laced with sweetness. He still tasted the bitter remnants of the Asgardian liquor on his tongue, hoping you wouldn’t be able to smell it.

“Good,” he replied simply. There was no need to tell you how much he had changed. You didn’t need to know that his sleep was nonexistent when you didn’t text back. His attitude, his recovery, his emotions that had grown, those were all hidden on the tip of his lying tongue. He was not okay, but you didn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad, Bucky.” Your hand landed on his forearm to squeeze it lightly. Thor placed two drinks in front of you with a wink, glasses clinking on the marble as he slid them towards you. You smiled at him, a little dimmer than the one you sent Bucky right after. “Wanna meet Sohan? He’s really sweet.”

He wanted to say no. “Sure, darlin’.” There was no way he could say no to you when you looked so endearingly adorable. Lips pulling wider a bit and eyes lighting up with relief, you looked around the crowd. You gestured to Sohan to come over when you saw him. He excused himself from Tony and sauntered over to you with a grin Bucky knew meant he was cocky.

Bucky’s gut dropped.

“Hey, princess,” Sohan started and patted your lower back in greeting. He nodded his head at Bucky with a slightly smaller smile, one that held a linger of smirk. “You must be the famous Bucky Barnes.” He extended a hand towards him.

Bucky refrained from cringing and gripped his hand. It was a little tighter than he usually would have held someone’s hand, but he was sure it wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t notice that it was his metal hand until Sohan’s eyes widened.

“Fuck!” Sohan whipped his hand back with a howl, holding it to his chest. You were by his side immediately, hands on his bicep and face, gently prying his hand away from his chest to inspect it. No marks or bruises appeared, no broken bones were heard cracked. Yet your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, seeking out any hurting places with the tips of your finger pressing in.

Bucky watched with a stoic face, knowing that he hadn’t pressed in too hard. It was for show. He could see the way Sohan’s eyes quickly darted over you in admiration, brown eyes twinkling. He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him and, out of the corner of his eye, saw her exchange a glance with Thor. Steve had appeared sometime before for a drink, now standing beside Bucky with his chest puffed out and ready to defend, no doubt. Once you were done checking his hand, you pulled away with a small smile on your lips, looking at Bucky.

“He’s all good,” you said simply, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. His hand gripped the neck of his bottle a little tighter when Sohan opened his mouth.

“Could be more careful with that death trap,” he muttered bitterly, sending a glance over Bucky’s shoulder and looking at Steve once. Bucky scowled at Sohan. Before Steve or Natasha could say anything to defend Bucky, you turned to Sohan with a glare.

“Say anything to him and you’re done interning for me,” you bit out through gritted teeth. Bucky’s eyes flickered to you in surprise.

Interning. He was a fucking intern. Not your goddamn boyfriend.

He slammed his bottle once on the counter and turned to Natasha with a newly found emotion of betrayal and anger, ignoring the other four pairs of eyes on him. Those glances she gave Thor when he heard her tell Bucky that Sohan was your boyfriend suddenly made sense. It clicked in his head that it was her plan. Natasha fucking Romanoff wanted him to feel his heart break. He didn’t know why just yet, but he was going to find out sooner or later. Whether it be a calm conversation on comfortable sofas or a quick spar on the mat to beat it out of her—she never took the easy way out anyway.

Your hand wrapped around his hand on the bottle, gently pulling his fingers off of its neck and intertwining your hands together. Your other hand came to cup his chin, tenderly pressing your palm into his cheek and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t budge, glowering at Natasha with a murderous fire in his eyes, he felt your body heat envelop him in its embrace. Your lips brushed over his earlobe, a shudder running through his body at the contact and a shaky exhale making its escape from his lips.

“Let’s go to our spot, yeah?” You whispered into his ear. Your breath was hot and cool at the same time. He absentmindedly nodded and let your hand guide him out of his chair and out of the room, leaving behind a gaping Sohan. He would beat the reasons out of Natasha tomorrow or the day after, depending on what happens with you.

You reached the doors to the balcony and pushed them open to be hit with the cool night air, the smell of summer in the air. You sighed lovingly and dragged him along to the edge of it, looking over the trees and the landscape of the city in the distance. The crescent moon and stars twinkled overhead, disappearing the closer they got to the city lighting. He watched you close your eyes and breath in the scent of leaves and plants before looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

He shook his head and muttered out, “Nothing.” Your face pinched in pain at his response. You let go of his hand and gripped the railing, turning your face away from him. He felt a stab under his rib. “Y/N?” He placed his hand—his metal hand—over yours, inflicting a mild squeeze in hopes of providing some solace. He wasn’t ready for you to turn back to him with unshed tears in your eyes. Another stab-like feeling ensued in his chest.

“Who is she?” You raised a hand to wipe your tears away, carefully so you didn’t smudge eyeliner and mascara, before they fell. You averted your eyes once again, looking down below at the parking lot. His blazer crinkled and his loafers skid as he turned to lean his side on the railing. He tilted his head down, placing his warm hand under your chin and tipped your head back slightly so that he could meet your gaze.

Eyebrows furrowing, he asked, “What?” He had had half a bottle of Asgardian liquor in under five minutes and he was starting to feel it start to hit him, but he was sure it hadn’t muddled his mind that much. Not to the point where he forgot someone.

“The woman you’re in love with,” you mumbled out slowly. Bucky blinked once and then again, eyebrows now furrowing further in together. His lips curled down in a frown, hands coming down and seizing yours. You shifted to mimic his position, letting him lace your fingers together.

“Come again?” His voice was low and rough, more puzzle pieces joining together the more he racked his gears. He stepped closer to you, the skirt of your dress brushing his pants. His hands itched to touch your waist, your hips, and feel your skin through the opaque fabric covering you. He wanted to pull you close, wrap his arms around you, kiss your neck, but he could control those urges right now.

“Natasha said you were in love with someone,” you mumbled, eyes dropping to his tie. Of course, Natasha was involved somehow. “Steve said you had been for a while when I asked him.” Bucky wanted to groan in frustration. Steve probably told you that because he had been in love with you for years now. A long while. Bucky had loved you for a long time, but never had he had the courage to say it out loud.

You slid your hands out of his grasp and fixed his tie. He gave in to one of his urges and placed his hands on your hips, being respectful of where his hands were placed. He didn’t want to read this wrong. Your tears and the questions you asked, even the way you ghosted him three weeks ago, made sense. His senses were working well enough for him to know what you were feeling. He felt his lips tug into a smirk, a little mischief seeking through his demeanor and into the sober moment you two were having.

“I do love her,” he whispered and gripped your hips a bit tighter each time he spoke. “I’ve loved her for a while. A long time. Ever since I met her. She’s so incredible and kind and gentle, but she doesn’t take any shit from me.”

He thought back to the few times you broke the news of his past, affirming that those things weren't and were never going to be his fault. He took a step closer to you, loafers disappearing into your tulle skirt. Your heels bumped his shoes, breath hitching at the closing proximity. One of his hands slipped behind to your lower back, index finger drawing slow and deliberate swirls on you. Your hands shook as you raised them to his face, thumb caressing his cheekbones and fingers lightly tracing his jaw.

“She’ll tell me it exactly how it is and she knows exactly what I need. She’s funny and her laugh makes me want to keep making her laugh.”

His eyes darted down to your lips, remembering the giggles that had left your lips for every sarcastic comment he had passed during any boring meetings. How he had mourned the loss of your laughter when you had left for Greece. His tongue licked his lips as he watched your lips curl upwards. He raised his eyes to meet your teary gaze. This time he knew it was a good thing. His heart soared into his throat.

“She loves my friends like her family, she saves people with her talents, and she cares for me.” His hands cupped your face and he leaned down closer to you. “Her name is Y/N and I love her with every breath I take.”

“You do?” You choked out, an airy chuckle escaping your lips.

Bucky nodded and whispered, “Yeah, I love you, Y/N. I love you, darlin’, so much.” His lips landed on your forehead, mumbling promises and some more declarations of love against your skin.

You pulled away from him, eyes twinkling with tears and happiness. “I love you, too, Bucky.” Bucky’s shoulders fell with his next deep exhale, thumbs swiping over your cheeks and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He saw your eyes flicker down to his lips twice and he absentmindedly ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

“You’re drunk,” you managed to whisper against the pad of his thumb. He pulled back a little, letting go of your face and placing his hands on your hips. He knew you weren’t rejecting him—just conscious of the fact that he had had a bottle in his hand, halfway empty. He spun you two around a bit to have your back against the railing.

“Doesn’t matter. ‘A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts’,” he mumbled, shrugging. He let go of your hips. He was giving you a way out of this if you wanted it, taking half a step back. You took a second to think about it.

He was about to tell you that it was okay if you wanted to go back in and talk about this tomorrow—after he beat Natasha in a spar—when you moved. Your hands brought his head down and your lips connected with his. He groaned at the contact, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close and leave no inch of space between your bodies. He heard the little noises you let out, moaning and whimpering into the kiss. Those little sounds of his made his head spin and his body heat with desire. He picked you up, arms wrapped just under your ass. Tilting back and stepping backwards, his back hit the wall near the door.

Only then did you two pull away, chests heaving and breaths mingling together.

“You wore my colours,” you breathed out.

“You wore mine,” he said huskily, two finger tracing the ribbons that tied your corset together.

———

Taglist: @pinkposttragedy @gen-genevieve

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babyhatesreality · 2 years

Text

Need You Now

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Summary: Captain America and the Winter Soldier have been in high demand recently, and have barely been home. Or....have you become just too much for them?

Warnings: Agere (SSC), f! reader, angst, reader is named but used sparingly, reader gets sad, temper tantrum, scolding, timeouts, threat of spanking, tears, fluff because I’m soft and this world is not.

You could hear them bustling around in the apartment, trying to be quiet so as not to wake you. Little did they know you’d been awake for a while, snuggling Jellybean the Bunny under your soft purple blankets. You rubbed your cheek against her gentle silky fur, trying to soothe yourself from all the bad feelings threatening to creep up again.

Steve and Bucky had been ridiculously busy lately. They had taken an important mission over in Wakanda, leaving you in the care of Tony and Pepper for three days. You and Peter had had a blast together, but all the same you were eager for your daddies to return home. Until the very next day, when they got called to appear before the SHIELD board with T’Challa to give a briefing in person. This time, Sam came to stay with you in the apartment for the two days they were gone. It was fun staying up late and eating junk food with him (all in the name of being declared ‘the most fun uncle’), but you were really starting to miss your daddies. And they didn’t call as much as they normally did when they were away.

It was about then that a faint fear started creeping up on you. They...they weren’t avoiding you, were they? They were the bravest, most bestest superheroes in the whole world, and their job was very important. They had to go away sometimes to save the world. You knew this well, but as you regressed littler and littler from missing them, it was harder to stop from wondering if they were trying to stay away.

Two days ago, Steve and Bucky had been back all of four hours when they got called away again. They had held you in their arms the entire time they’d been home, right up until they had to board the Quinjet, and it had almost been enough to convince you they weren’t leaving on purpose.

But you’d been a brave, big girl, watching as they waved goodbye until they couldn’t see you anymore. You’d been well behaved for Sam, so he didn’t question the fact that you were quieter than normal, although he did bring it up to Steve in a text message. Steve and Bucky had gotten home in time to give you your bath and tuck you into bed, but the very next day they were gone again, this time until well past bedtime. They’d read you a story over FaceTime, with Sam holding up the phone for you, and you’d fallen asleep in your own bed before they’d finished.

That had been last night. And you didn’t need super soldier hearing to tell that they were getting ready to leave again this morning.

The door to your room quietly opened, but your back was to it so you couldn’t tell who it was. You didn’t hear anything until there were soft fingers combing through your hair. It was Bucky, then. He had been trained to move silently in his previous life. Who would have thought he’d end up using that training to not wake his sleeping little?

“Good morning, Princess,” Bucky said softly. You turned abruptly to face him, still clutching Jellybean. Bucky seemed a little surprised. “How long have you been awake, Baby?” he asked, brushing the hair out of your face. You didn’t answer, but nuzzled your nose into Jellybean again. “Are we feeling littler than normal today?” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. When you didn’t answer again, his brow furrowed.

“You feeling alright, kiddo?” Bucky asked, confused by your lack of action and exuberance. You held your arms out to him instead, just wanting to be held.

Daddy immediately scooped you up and cuddled you into his massive and warm chest. You clung to the teeshirt that he wore- it smelled of leather, vanilla, sandalwood and cinnamon, him and Papa both. You wanted them here, needed them here, but you just couldn’t find the words to tell him that. Bucky gently put his hand on your forehead to make sure you weren’t running a fever or something, still puzzling out why you were acting this way. He rubbed your back with his vibranium hand; the coolness of the metal usually soothed you.

“How ‘bout some breakfast?” Daddy asked, wondering if you were just hangry. You turned into a right little monster when you were hangry. Still keeping you snuggled in to his chest, he stood up and walked towards the kitchen, taking Jellybean from your hands and leaving her on your bed. You whined unhappily- this meant the day was moving on and you were going to be left again. Bucky misinterpreted your fussing. “Jellybean needs to stay here, we don’t want her trying to steal your food. C’mon, let’s go see Papa, he’s got something yummy for you I bet.” You just buried your face in his neck, grumbling softly, wishing you could find the right words.

The smell of scrambled eggs and toast wafted deliciously, but you were too upset to eat, so you tightened your hold on Bucky’s neck. “Hey Stevie, we got us a little grumpy bunny this morning,” he said in a teasing tone. You growled at that- you weren’t grumpy- but that only made Bucky laugh. “See what I mean? We need some breakfast, stat.” He turned to put you down in your chair, but you whined loudly, keeping as tight a hold on him as you could.

Bucky easily broke your grip on him, but placed a long, gentle kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay Grumpy Bunny, Papa’s gonna fix you up with food and then you’ll be much happier, okay? I gotta get ready to go. Be good and eat up.” You yowled loudly in protest as he walked away, but he didn’t even turn around. You huffed and crossed your arms, trying to be angry instead of sad.

Right at that moment, Steve approached you with your favorite baby animals plate. He laughed softly at the pout on your face, it was so adorable. “I see Daddy was right- we got us a grumpy bunny this morning,” he said as well. You were really annoyed now.

“Nodda gwumpy bunny,” you grumbled, immediately disproving your statement. Instead of teasing like Daddy had though, Papa smiled softly, placing the plate down in front of you.

“Okay, angel, you’re not a grumpy bunny,” he said soothingly, reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch made you want to cry- you needed so much more of it. “Can you be a good bunny then and eat your breakfast? We’ve got to get you packed up to go spend the day with Uncle Tony and Peter.”

This was too much. You only got dumped off with Uncle Tony when they were going to be gone for a while. You didn’t know how to express yourself or your sadness, so you just sat there. “Do you want me to feed you, angel?” Steve asked, a bit thrown off by your lack of action. He pulled his chair over next to yours, then reached over to pick up the fork. But you surprised him by clambering onto his lap instead, pressing your front to his and wrapping your arms around his neck as tight as you could.

Papa immediately responded by rubbing your back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “What’s wrong with my baby girl, huh?” he murmured softly into your ear. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” You whined miserably, not even wanting to talk now- just wanting to be held and not left behind.

Steve, while loving your clinginess, was getting a bit worried. This was so out of character for you, but you weren’t talking to him, so how was he supposed to fix this? He was even more eager now to get going on this last briefing and just get it over with so he could come home to you. “C’mon, let’s eat so you can go play and have fun with Peter, okay?”

“No!”

“Hey, I know you’re upset, but you don’t speak to me like that sweetheart,” Steve gently reprimanded. “You know better.”

That made you even more upset. You’d finally found a word and you were immediately scolded for it? Didn’t he want you to talk to him? You pushed your face harder into his neck, losing all words in your feelings and only able to whine. Trying not to feel frustrated at his own shortcomings for not being able to help you, Steve reached over to pick up a piece of toast.

“C’mon angel, you need to eat. Do you want some jelly on your toast?” he asked, trying to tempt you with sweets. You gave a loud, angry growl, turning your mouth into his shoulder. “Katie,” Steve said firmly. “You need to eat, right now. Please stop this.” He tried jostling you a bit to get to you turn your face back to him, but you weren’t budging. “Baby, listen to me. You need to eat. We have to get going. Now.”

Before you were even fully aware of it, you turned and angrily smacked the toast out of his hand. You both froze for a second, surprised at your actions. You hadn’t meant to do that, but you were out of options and the idea of eating was just way too much for you to handle.

Steve recovered before you could. He grabbed you by your little shoulders, holding you away a bit so you could see his angry eyes. “That was very naughty, little girl,” he scolded, making you feel even worse. “You know better than to act like that. I know you’re upset but that does not give you permission to misbehave.” He stood up, taking you with him and marched straight to your timeout mat. “You think about your behavior, little miss.” He plopped you down, perhaps a bit more harshly than he’d meant to, but you didn’t make a sound. You were still recovering from the shock of your actions, and now you found yourself facing a cold, lonely corner while your daddies ignored you and got ready to leave you yet again. They must be done with you- you couldn’t even eat like their good girl anymore. Who would want to stay with such a bad girl? Tears started running down your face.

Bucky angrily made his way back to the kitchen the moment he’d heard the altercation from the other room. He’d been very clear from day one that you were not to hit either of them EVER, and he knew that Steve was too much of a softy to discipline you properly (in his mind) for hitting. He wasn’t about to let you get away with this with only a timeout.

Steve saw the fire in Bucky’s eyes the second he appeared at the threshold to the room, and then he saw Bucky glare at your tiny form in the corner. He knew exactly what was in his husband’s head. “Buck,” Steve warned before he could take a step towards you. Bucky’s head snapped to him.

“She hit you,” he responded, steely unforgiveness in his tone. That only made the tears run faster down your face and you sniffed a bit, but you didn’t dare turn your head to look. His super soldier hearing picked up on your sniffles immediately, but he ignored the little flare of protectiveness that ignited at your crying.

“She didn’t hit ME, she knocked her breakfast out of my hand,” Steve corrected. Bucky spread his hands out to Steve as if to say what’s the difference? Steve responded with his own look of come on, man. “She’s having a rough morning. After her timeout, we’ll see if we can get her to talk to us and tell us what’s going on.” Bucky’s glare didn’t change one bit. “Buck,” Steve said softly, as only he knew how to.

The fire dulled slightly in Bucky’s eyes, and instead of storming over to you and putting you over his knee to paint your little butt red, he stiffly made his way over to Steve. “You know I’m not going to tolerate hitting, Steve,” he said firmly. Steve reached out and rubbed his husband’s arms soothingly, trying not to smile at the notion that both of his loves were being grumpy bunnies this morning. He dropped his voice so you wouldn’t hear.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. And I’m not saying you should...but just...grant her a little grace this morning, okay? She’s clearly upset about something. And you and I are both too stressed out. We all need a little timeout.”

Bucky suddenly heaved a huge sigh, running his hand down his face and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “After today, we’re getting family leave for a week, I don’t care what the board says,” he snarled quietly, more to himself than at Steve. “We’ve spent more time away from her than we have with her in so long. And that’s not right. Fury can shove it if he tries to send us out again. We are not spending enough time with her and it’s killing me.”

Steve nodded in agreement, thinking, the puzzle pieces coming together. “Do you...Buck, do you think that’s what’s causing her to act out? Do you think she’s missing us too?” Bucky’s blue eyes shot to Steve’s, and Steve could see the cogs turning.

“Only one way to find out,” Bucky said grimly, turning his gaze back to your tiny, hunched over figure in the corner. His heart twisted at the sight of you sitting there, all alone. “She didn’t want to talk to me this morning. Did you have any luck?”

Steve shook his head. “No, but we have to try again.” His eyes drifted to his watch. You still had thirty seconds left, but screw it. He needed to hold you now. “Katie-Cat, come here please,” he called to you in a soft tone.

At the special nickname that only your daddies got to call you, you crumbled. You folded in half in the corner, putting your head down and sobbing uncontrollably. Before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted off the floor, cradled in a pair of warm arms.

Papa carried you back to the couch, Daddy suddenly and anxiously right at his side. They were shushing you and petting you, trying as hard as they could to soothe you while you sobbed. Papa pressed his cheek to the top of your head, murmuring that it was all okay. You opened one teary eye to see Daddy looking at you directly, his face lined with worry. You twisted into Papa’s chest at that, knowing that you’d been really bad and that Daddy wouldn’t tolerate your behavior. This was it. They were going to let you go, you just knew it.

“Baby, please talk to us,” Steve pleaded, unable to keep the heartbreak from his voice. “Please. We’re not going anywhere. We’re right here and we need you to talk to us. Please, honey, please.”

“I...”

“Yes, Baby? What is it?”

“I sowwy I bad,” you finally hiccuped out. Papa’s arms squeezed tighter around you.

“Oh angel,” he said sorrowfully, wishing he could soothe the angst in your heart. “You’re having a bad day and you made a bad choice. You’re not bad. You’re our good little girl.”

“Bu-but,” you said, hiccuping again through your tears. You couldn’t find the words again, so you pointed back to the table where you’d knocked the toast out of Papa’s hand. You looked fearfully up at Bucky. “Sowwy Daddy, sowwy,” you cried, hoping they understood.

Bucky’s face contorted. He leaned back, suddenly afraid of how angry he’d been. He was scaring you, and that cut deeply. He’d spent so many years being the scary bad guy through no choice of his own, and now here he was again, doing it of his own free will. And with one of the people in this world who actually loved him. “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he whispered, desperately wanting to reach for you but terrified that you would flinch away. “Daddy is so sorry, he didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I bad,” you said miserably, wiping your hand under your runny nose. On instinct, Bucky plucked a tissue from the box on the end table and wiped your nose, then used his thumb to dry the tears from your cheeks. He was almost done before he fully realized he was touching you. Just as he was about to withdraw, afraid of making you even more scared, you desperately latched onto his hand, putting it flat on the side of your face and nuzzling into it. “I m-miss y-you and P-papa,” you finally managed to stutter out.

There it was. Steve’s heart shattered at your admission. You were missing them just as much as they were missing you. He felt like the worst caregiver in the world. He had been so focused on getting the job done so he could get back to you that he hadn’t realized that doing the job was taking its toll on all of you. “My sweet, perfect little girl,” he said, trying to pour all the love he had into those words. His heart mended just a bit when you turned your gaze to his in wonder. “Papa and Daddy are so sorry that we’ve been gone so much. We have missed our baby so much, and we’re so sorry.”

“Sorry, angel,” Bucky echoed, his voice laced with emotion. “We’ve been wanting to be home with you so badly. We didn’t realize that you felt the same way.”

“Miss you both!!” you said, popping up suddenly, batting the tears from your cheeks, relieved that you found words again. “Don’t wanna go!! Please, I be good!!”

“Go?” Steve asked, confused. “You’re not going anywhere, angel.”

“I not?”

“No, baby, why would you think that?”

“Cause I was bad and you not home.”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed softly, the full implications of what you’d been thinking hitting him square in the face. You fell back against Steve chest, pointing a little at Bucky.

“Dat’s a no-no word, Daddy,” you said, ever so softly. Then you giggled.

That little laugh suddenly made their world a whole lot brighter. Steve couldn’t help the relieved laughter that came bubbling out of his own mouth. “You’re right, munchkin,” he said, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Guess Daddy’s going to get his mouth washed out with soap, huh?” That made you giggle even more. Bucky couldn’t help himself. He reached for you, and when you went willingly to him, he felt his heart piece itself back together.

“Listen, baby girl,” he said, much more confident now that he knew you felt safe in his arms again. “Papa and I will never make you go away. If you choose to go, that’s your choice, but please hear me. You’re our family. And we love you so much.”

“Even when I bad?”

“Even when you make bad choices.”

“I don’t gotta go?”

“Nope.”

“And you gonna stay today?”

Bucky looked up at Steve to find him already on the phone, his face set determinedly. He gave him a crooked smile before turning his loving gaze on you. “Try and keep us away from you today, Trouble,” he said, nuzzling your nose.

After politely but firmly telling Fury of the change of plans, Steve and Bucky didn’t set you down the whole day. You finally gobbled down your breakfast, followed by a round of your favorite cartoons while you were passed in between your daddies, cuddling the whole time. The rest of the day was just the three of you, against the world, as it would always be.

#bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy stucky x little reader #agere #agere little

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generallysapphic · 1 year

Text

i can take care of you +18 (shuri x reader)

it’s been an intense couple of weeks for the queen, and you’re noticing the stress of it all eat away at her. from failed project to injury during a mission, you decide to make it your goal to help her relax in the best ways possible.

y’all YALL,,, i absolutely love when y’all send me such specific requests so keep it up! and i wanna thank @maybachinparis for sending this request in because it has my mind REELINGGG, so thank you my love! (also ; queen ramonda isn’t dead in this story she’s just retired, but t’challa is.) part two here!

y’all this is a long one, lots of fluff and talking before we get to the down and dirty, and beware some angst!! reader is originally from wakanda and the daughter of a trusted farming family that many people know, so you have some history. she’s shorter than shuri and

warnings ; praise kink, overstim, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, soft dom! shuri, sweet sub! reader, married love making, name calling, strap on sex, frustrated shuri (she doesn’t take it out on you), small injury and medical assistance, bath sex, talk of death and the afterlife

song inspo: SHEA BUTTER BABY by Ari Lennox and Would You Mind? by Janet Jackson

tag lists (thank you for the support!!): @maybachinparis @rxcently @verachii @imshurisbabymama @widowmakker @fetchyourlife @mingitheii @letitias-fav @blackgcomica @lovelyaliengirl @dejaonline @writesbyriri @bubshri @blackhottie25 @playgurlxoxo @mocha-aya @noneofyabuisnezs @kiraecl1pse @nil-eena @birdbirdbirdbird123456878900 @katymae12344 @lunax0654 @shuri-my-love @nsfwlover13 @vlkyriesverse @shurisbbymama @szalipcombo @natsgirlfriend @http-twyla @sokkasbae255 @scarelttrose

enjoy loves <3

you walk back and forth, practically pacing, from outside the long doors in front of the lab, your mind reeling. you couldn’t even believe it— the queen, the black panther, your wife injured on a mission. your hands were shaking, how could this even happen? shuri had looked so pained when she came through the front room doors, limping, and immediately asking the dora milaje to hold you back, as shuri knew better than anyone how quick you were to react.

and hold you back they did— you already fighting them with all the strength you had and yelling that you’re the queen too and you deserved to see your wife, to tend to her before anyone else, but they were stronger than you in most ways. aneka looks at you with her deep eyes, “please, your highness, calm down, she’ll be fine,”

and you fight back, “i should be there with her! let me through—!” and you try to barricade through them once more before they tackle you again, and you struggle against them. after a while you had calmed down and most of the dora milaje retreated to the lab to help shuri but even now in front of the lab doors stood two dora, their spears ready to attack.

your head was hurting as you paced back and forth waiting for something — anything — to know she was was okay. shuri was having such an intense last couple of weeks, this truly being the first time she was both queen and black panther and it’s taken a toll on her, you could tell. deep circles were around her eyes and most nights you’d go to bed alone, her coming in around 3 am just to wake up bright and early at 7 and barely sleep. you had your own diplomatics to deal with too, making sure all the affairs were in order before she left and it took so long, you spent most of the day in your office and the throne room before you got off at 6, always missing shuri and she always missing you.

when you two were together it was always brief. small moments in the garden on your lunch or stolen kisses right before she departed wakanda only to return nearly 14 hours later. then the people of wakanda looked to you as well— while shuri was gone you were entirely in charge. walking the kingdom and taking care of small disputes best you could, but still, it was a lot for you both.

you’re whispering prayers to Bast, just hoping nothing is fatal or too deep that she’s injured forever, and suddenly the large white doors open, and it’s aneka smiling at you, and you let out a sigh of relief and practically run past her.

doctors, many of the elder tribe leaders, and even m’baku are still surrounding shuri when you come in but they make way for you as you nearly tackle her on the lab bed she’s on. a couple of “careful!”’s are said but you can only hear shuri’s laugh, and a small groan in pain as you hug her tightly, the tears you had outside already spilling over.

you pull back and grab her face, “please, please, please don’t scare me like that ever again, shuri. i thought— i thought—” and you could barely get it out, the words ‘i thought i lost you’ staying behind in your throat but shuri looks at you with a deep, fond gaze that says “i know you did, but you won’t and never will,” you smile slightly, stroking her face in your hands and kissing her all over and she laughs, holding your waist and drawing you close.

“i think,” m’baku’s deep voice breaks you two up, “the black panther needs to rest with her wife, hmm? even with all your nano tech and whatnot, an injury like that, you need a couple of days,” and elders murmur in agreement and you nod along. shuri speaks up though, “the mission. i have failed them if i don’t go back,” she says and you look at her again, she sounded so finite about, your eyebrows furrow.

“no, you have not, my queen,” says the leader of the river tribe, “we can handle it from here, call nakia up to keep the trail hot,” shuri frowns, “nakia has to care for someone, she won’t be able to go. i am fine, let me—”

your voice cuts hers, “shuri. no.” she stills, much does everyone because they can tell it’s not a suggestion. “you are injured. you can barely walk, and i have never seen you like that before. and when one queen is inept to make the decisions the other steps in,” shuri gapes at you, mouth ready to retort, before you add, “i support the notion of giving the black panther a week of rest, nothing less. should she step foot in this lab or reach for her necklace, the dora milaje will do their best to stop her,”

the elders look around, murmuring, before m’baku speaks first, “i mean, cmon, it’s her wife.” he laughs a bit before adding, “you have the jibari tribe behind you in this notion. i also submit my services to stopping the black panther at all costs,” he chuckles a bit and you whisper an “ey,” and cut your eyes at him.

you hear shuri smack her lips once the other elders agree to your request and you nod, “it’s settled. m’baku, handle the most recent hostage situation best as possible. take ayo with you and listen to everything she says,” you hear m’baku grumble as ayo tries to hide her laugh.

“i need the rest of you to watch our boarders and city waters. many families have had irrigation problems because of the dry season, causing wild life to attack their farms so keep an eye out, and bring water to those in need,” the leaders nod out, “yes my queen,” to you and walk off before you sigh and lift shuri’s head up,

“and you,” you say sweetly and shuri blinks up at you with tired eyes, but still looks at you as if you hung the moon yourself, “yes, my love?”

“you,” and you kiss her on every word, “are going to relax and get some rest,” you say and sit next to her again and she sighs, eyes closing slightly. you know what she’s going to say, you see it in her face.

“i.. i miss him,” she whispers when you two are finally alone and you rub her hands in yours, kissing her knuckles, “i know, sthandwa, i know,” you bite your lip, not wanting to say what you do, but you decide to anyway,

“you could talk to him, yknow.” shuri sighs and shakes her head, “last time… he wasn’t — he wasn’t there. he doesn’t want to speak to me,” she whispers the last part and you retort completely, grabbing her face and making her look at you, “shuri, no, no. don’t you ever say that. t’challa — he loved you so, so much, of course he’d want to speak to you, he’d be more than happy to see his sister.”

her eyes are threatening to spill over and you rub your thumbs against her cheeks and sigh, “my love, you are so strong. but asking for help, wanting some, is not the weakness you take it to be. you know that, i know you do.” you whisper and kiss her forehead and she hold your hands in yours, taking deep breaths to calm down.

you look back into her eyes and she’s smiling slightly, you know she’s still sad but you can tell her body is fighting exhaustion and not allowing her to feel her emotions completely. you step down from the bed and extend your hand, “cmon. i’ll run you a bath, get you cleaned up, yeah?” and shuri nods, and you help her get down, holding her waistline and she holds on to your shoulders, leaning on you for support.

aneka is at the lab entrance, waiting to assist in anyway, and you tell her, “let m’baku know the queens’ kimiyo beads will be off for the rest of the evening. emergencies only,” and she nods, as you and shuri walk to your bedroom.

the bath will do shuri some good, you decide, touching the water and adding some bath salts to help her skin relax. she’s in the master bedroom, taking off the underarmour she wears under her black panther suit and even though you are married, sneaking a hidden look at your naked wife has you blushing and turning away.

most of her injuries are dressed and nearly healed once shuri steps in the bathroom, still limping some and her hair out from its original cornrows. she sighs and comes up behind you, swaying you slightly and you lean against her, you both watching the bath fill up with bubbles and water.

“what did i do to deserve you,” shuri sighs into your neck and you chuckle slightly, “i should be the one to say that. i went from farmer to queen in nearly two years, im still wrapping my head around it.” she kisses your neck and rubs your arms, “i saw you and thought you deserved it,” she murmurs and you giggle, pushing her off you, “nope, no, go get in your bath, no sex for you, go,”

she huffs slightly, taking off her robe and stepping in before wincing, “you’re trying to burn me more, ikumkani wam? this is scolding,” shuri complains and you roll your eyes and help her sit down, “the hot water will relax your muscles, now come sit, let me wash your hair,” and she huffs again, but listens.

you two hadn’t had a moment like this in so long, you realize, squeezing some shampoo on your hands and you tell her, “we haven’t done anything like this in a while, huh? it’s nice,” your murmured and get a soft response in return, and you laugh, right. shuri always went to sleep when you washed her hair, your hands working diligently, your nails scraping against her scalp and she leans back into your knees.

you can see her eyes closing, and you smile sadly at just how much you see she needed this, her entire body looks like it’s recharging in the bath, and her breathing slow and deep. you whisper, “lean back, entle, let me rinse your hair,” and shuri is completely complacent, murmuring and moving slowly, as you tilt her head back and run warm water down her scalp.

shuri’s definitely asleep by the time your putting in her conditioner and giving her some two strand twists, her entire head sloped against your knee. you find a head wrap in the nearby drawers and kiss her cheek once your done to wake her up and she mumbles. you whisper, “cmon let me wash you, love,” and she’s blinking awake as you climb into the bath and grab a rag and rub all over her.

shuri looks at you fondly, watching you avoid her open wounds and wash softly over the wrapped ones, even whispering a small apology when she winces slightly, all the way until your rinsing her off and wrapping a bathrobe against her and climbing out first to help her get out after you. you unplug the drain and grab some lotions and gauze to rebandage her wounds once in the bedroom.

you sit her down, handing her the cocoa butter and cream as you work your way up her wounds starting with her legs. you start, “what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” you whisper and look up and shuri is staring back at you with such deep love and appreciation, that it makes you blush. you two have been together for more than three years now and she can still look at you as intensely as she did that first night you met her.

“shuri,” you whisper and she blinks, snapping out of her trance, “yes? i’m sorry whatd you say?” shuri says honestly and you giggle, wrapping one more gauze before sitting next to her and smiling, “what do you want me to make for breakfast tomorrow my love? we’ve got a week and i want to spend it doing all the things we’ve missed,” you say a little sadly and shuri laughs to herself, “why worry about tomorrow, we’ve got plenty we can do right now,” and her hand slides up your thigh and you roll your eyes, slapping her hand slightly. you know it doesn’t hurt her, but she still winces like it does.

“no sex, i mean it. i want your body to relax, sithandwa, okay?” and she sighs and nods, thinking. “i don’t even know to be honest, y/n, i’m so exhausted,” she finally admits and you laugh, “yes i know my love, let’s get some rest, yeah?”

shuri nods and you hand her the large shirt she normally wear to bed and cut off the lights and lay back down. shuri finds you in the darkness, completely wrapping herself over you and whispering, “ulihlabathi lam lonke sithandwa,”

you smile deeply, before sleep washes you both over and you close your eyes.

you wake up first, the small vibrations from your kimoyo beads shaking your arm, making you turn your alarm off. you check the time, just barely 9 am, and look over. you smile and see shuri, sleeping still so peacefully, her breathing slow. you reach over and adjust her head wrap before it falls off and sit up and stretch.

you check any of the emergency messages shuri may have gotten on her kimoyo beads and all you see is a lovely picture from nakia and her beautiful son, captioned, ‘hope to see you soon, auntie :)’ and smile, before closing the screen and stretching again, beginning to prepare for the day. you put your slip dress on and some house shoes before going to the other side of the bed and kissing shuri’s cheek.

her reflexes wake her up slightly, and you hear her grumble as you giggle, “no no, go back to sleep. don’t wake up i was just saying good morning, my love, that’s all. rest,” you whisper and she laughs a little too, “good morning to you, too,” before sighing and turning over. you walk away to the kitchen and wrap your hair up in a bun to get started.

you prepare some biscuits first, kneading dough and buttering up some pans before slicing up some pork pieces and peppers. you’ve been cooking your whole life, memories of making breakfast for your family with your mother flood your mind as you move around the kitchen. you smile to yourself, as you completely involve yourself in the food, playing some music softly.

after about 2 hours, everything’s just about done. the eggs cook last, of course, as you chop up some fruit and your beloved comes to the kitchen, her black pajamas on and twists out. shuri looks well rested and so much healthier compared to last night that it makes you smile.

“well good morning, again, love,” you say, still chopping fruit and she comes behind you, her favorite place to be, and smiles a “good morning,” into your neck, kissing there and rubbing up your sides. you chuckle to yourself, you know she’s pent up, hell, you are too, but you had a plan for that so you wiggled your shoulders, “no, we’ll eat first okay?” you say and turn to her and sighs again like last night and steals a strawberry from off your cutting board. you smack your lips at her and pinch her hip as she walks away laughing and starts setting the table.

you grab all the dishes you can, first the potatoes and pork first, and asking shuri to grab the rest of the eggs and biscuits and grits, placing everything just like your mother had always told you to. you take a step back and look at your work and smile, and shuri comes to your side, “i know you do, so, you want a picture?” and you laugh and ready your kimoyo beads and snap a quick picture.

you let shuri sit first and she looks at you confused, “what—” and you sigh, “i’m making your plate, go and sit,” and she laughs, “i guess i should get hurt more often,” she says and you glare at her before shuri puts her hands up, “a joke, sthandwa, i’m joking,” she laughs at your eyes, which are still cutting at her while you gather her food. “yeah, you better be,” you say back.

once her plate is full you set it down and she looks at you like you’re about to get married to her again, “i love you so much, this looks so amazing,” she murmurs out and you laugh and kiss her curls, smelling the shampoo you used last night and smiling. you set your plate next and sit next to her, praying a small thank you to Bast and beginning to eat.

you and shuri eat in a comfortable silence for nearly fifteen minutes before you both start to get full and make conversation. you start, “i have a full day of activities planned for us today, usana, i’m really excited.” she lifts her eyebrow at you to continue as she finishes her biscuit, all the food on her plate nearly gone.

you do, “first, we need to go to the market for some fresh meat for dinner tonight. i wanted to try and perfect my jambalaya. and then i thought we could go to the garden and relax, sort of meditate and read a bit, and finish the day strong with dinner and.. maybe, some time alone.” you try to whisper the last part to hide yourself but shuri catches it all and smiles.

“well seems like you’ve got it all planned out. i’ll follow your lead, sthandwa, im excited.” she sounds so sincere and infatuated with you, it makes you blush. how crazy is it that, as long as you’ve been together, she can still make you feel like it’s the first date all over again. you shy up and stand, taking her plate with yours to wash it. shuri beats you to it, “no, no, i got it, go get ready for the day,”

you look at her and sigh, pulling her down for a kiss, and she grins into it much like you do, and pull away saying, “ndiyakuthanda,”

shuri smiles harder at you and repeats it for your ears only as if you’re the only person who supposed to hear it. and you know you are.

you lay in the bath and you hear shuri singing to herself slightly down the hall as she washes the dishes. you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy for the time you’ve spent with her, even just one morning feeling positively heavenly.

your kimoyo beads go off under the water, and it’s m’baku, a text that reads, ‘the hostages have been brought back home. ayo has talked my ear off, please send aneka to retrieve her.’ and you laugh slightly as shuri walks in, “what’s funny, my love?” you turn to her, “m’baku and ayo working together, he says she talked his ear off,” shuri smiles too and being to underdress and now you’re not laughing.

“what’re you doing?” you ask, smirking at her and trying to keep your eyes on her face as more and more of her tattooed skin comes into view, “repaying the favor. you wash me, i do the same, yeah?” she whispers back and before you can retort she’s already stepping in and you laugh as she winces, much like last night, “darling, you’re going to burn your skin off, Bast, this is ridiculous,” she mumbles as she sits down and you smile, leaning against her chest.

she rubs your skin up and down under the hot water and you sigh, holding one of her hands against you. “i’ve missed you,” you whisper, and she nods against you, tilting your head to look at her, “i’ve missed you, too,” she whispers right back, and kisses you sweetly and gently like you’re the softest thing in the universe. you moan softly, turning your head to give her better access and water moves around you both, most of the bubbles now gone.

you feel the hand that was holding you chin slowly go down your chest, moving right on top your clit and you huff, pulling away from her mouth and she shushes you, adding more pressure with her two fingers and circling your clit and you moan, “haaaa, shuri,” you’re whispering like someone will come in and she kisses against your cheeks holding you down with the other hand.

shuri whispers in your ear, “you’re so beautiful, my love. i’m so glad to call you mine,” you moan again, feeling that heat pool downstairs and your legs try to close to avoid it but shuri’s talking in your ear again, “no, darling, keep them open let me see you, it’s alright,” and you sigh and open your legs again, always giving into shuri completely. she thanks you and you feel your body get warmer, the water moving against your pussy in tandem with shuri’s fingers and you buck, your orgasm washing over you suddenly.

“ha, oh, ohhh i’m cumming, shuri, shuri—” and she’s encouraging you all the way, whispering praises in your wet skin and still moving her fingers against you, until you’re whining in overstimulation and she stops, kissing your neck and rubbing your stomach and legs. you sigh out and completely turn over and kiss her, water spilling over a bit, ready to return the favor and she smiles, shaking her head, “we’ve got to go to the market, remember? we’ll finish later, okay?” she says and you blink, still dazed from your orgasm but you nod and she picks up a rag to start washing you both.

once you’re both clean, you get out and lather up with some cocoa butter and oils, you laying your edges and shuri fixing up some of her curls. you wear your favorite loose dress, it ties right on your hips and gives you some decent cleavage and shuri puts on a matching track suit and grabs your hand as you exit the room.

walking towards the throne room you see aneka there waiting patiently, “my queens, are we departing? should i tell anyone?” and you both shake your head, “we’re just going to the markets, aneka, no need for royals of any kind.” you say sweetly and she nods, tapping her spear against the hard concrete, opening the doors and escorting you both out.

being on wakandan streets made you nostalgic, not having really been outside that often since marrying shuri and becoming queen. shuri sees it on your face; the warmth of familiarity bringing a pleasant and beautiful grin on you, “you miss it, my love?” she says as you look at the shops.

you sigh and face her, “a bit. it mostly reminds me of my mother. but even when we were dating i just miss having the time like this— to wonder about and look, just you and i,” you say taking her hand and she smiles at you, kissing your forehead as you make your way to your first shop.

the woman smiles, “ikumkani wam, what can i get you, dear?” and you smile back, “no need for royalties, auntie, i just need some peppers and rice, and if you have any strawberries that’d be great too,” you say glaring at shuri since she had eaten your entire freshly picked batch this morning and she puts her hands up in surrender, laughing as she walks around to another shop.

she packs up the ingredients for you and you thank her as you watch shuri come skipping back to you and smiling, her hands behind her back. you raise an eyebrow, “what’ve you gotten now?”

“nothing, nothing, don’t worry about it,” she says all too fast and you sigh, shaking your head, knowing it’s some expensive gift she’ll probably give you later. shuri had a habit of doing that, buying you some gold or jewelry or accessories you didn’t necessarily need but she knew they’d look darling on you. and, well of course they did, but you had always encouraged her to not spend so much on you. “you are my greatest gift,” you had told her countless times, “i need nothing more.”

and yet, she persisted.

you’d given up trying to stop her long ago as shuri was just as stubborn as always. you walked up to your next shop, talking to the young man there and asking for the pounds of meat you needed, thank him as he went to cut. shuri comes to your side, “it’s not jewelry, if that makes you feel better,” she whispers lightly, you can feel her smirk.

you’re curious now, “more waist beads?” and she shakes her head, “oh, really? i don’t know you to buy anything else. what is it?” the man comes back with the pork and chicken you needed and you thank him as shuri whispers, “i don’t want to spoil the surprise, love,” and you gruff, “i know you better than all, shuri, you cannot surprise me.” you say proudly and she smiles walking side by side with you and shrugs,

“maybe i can,” you glare at her, now more curious than ever. but she might be playing with you, just to throw you and actually pull out waist beads after dinner and you chuckle to yourself. the rest of the trip is filled with small banter and shopping, both you and shuri just happy to spend this time together.

once back home, shuri insisted to move the meditation in the garden to tomorrow, which causes you to lift up your eyebrow once you set your groceries down in the kitchen. “why, have you got something planned?” and she smiles, helping you unpack and she comes to your ear, “i need all the hours in the night for you so after dinner it’ll just be you and i, alright?”

‘all the hours in the night,’ echoes in your forehead and you feel some heat pool at the bottom of your stomach, and you exhale quietly and nod, “alright,” you whisper back and she kisses your neck, rubbing your arms and she walks away, the bag holding your surprise in her hands.

you stand at the sink, still slightly breathless, whew. you had forgotten how shuri can get, so sensual and so intense, that it didn’t cross your mind that she might have plans tonight along with yours. your mind reels as you try to figure out what her surprise could be while you think of yours.

you and shuri had had a loving sex life, nothing too intense and always so satisfying, shuri always willing to try whatever you wanted and you right behind her, listening to her suggestions and smiling at her when she comes to shy and asks if you can try something new. but even then, you knew what the other liked— shuri loved you in lingerie and all the jewelry she bought, she liked taking all the time in the world with you so the ‘all the hours in the night’ hadn’t surprised you one bit; ever the romantic, she lets nothing come between your love making and she swears by it, even going as far as taking off her kimoyo beads and shutting them down at one point.

you loved everything about her but during sex you absolutely loved when she lost herself in you, letting down every single guard she had and completely unraveling because of you. she’s always so tense, ready for any and everything at all costs so to see her completely relax and let go while with you makes your mind nearly explode.

but even then, what could she possible have that would surprise you? you shake your head, looking at the time. 5:54, might as well start on dinner.

you sigh once dinner is ready, your eyes watering a bit from the peppers and spices, but it’s done regardless and you step back and take another picture and immediately send it to your mom, proud of your work. you cover the pot and walk to the bedroom to get shuri but instead are greeted with a lingerie set, a white frilly bra and underwear set, complete with ribbons and lace, and a silk, black dress that sits next to a perfume bottle.

you roll your eyes once you see a note with shuri’s handwriting on it, “surprise, my love.” you read and sigh again, taking off your apron and under clothes and putting on the set. you walk to the bathroom and see yourself in the mirror, damn, it’s perfect. the dress itself is damn near see through and the bralet and underwear hug your body beautifully, the ruffles practically shiny against your skin and blush, almost too nervous to show shuri. you spray some of the perfume on, inhaling and smelling, vanilla and shea butter, and you smile. it’s the perfume you wore on your first date. i can’t believe she remembered something like that, you think to yourself. you get one last of yourself in the mirror and fix your hair a bit, laying your edges down once more before walking out.

you see shuri in the kitchen wearing a white fitted suit, and she’s adjusting her cufflinks when your speak up, “okay, i admit it, you surprised me.” you say laughing and she turns to face you and she gasps slightly, you can see her gaze darkening as she takes you all in, “you look beautiful, sthandwa, you captivate me,” and you smile and shy up and decide to walk off, “let’s sit yeah?” you say and shuri laughs, and follows you to make her plate as well.

you both make your plates and sit down once more like this morning, making small conversation, but you can’t help but feel a light sense of arousal, as you know what’s about to happen. you two haven’t made love in so long and the thought of her being inside you for hours has you crossing your legs as you can barely speak to her, muttering out small responses before she notices and lifts your chin to make eye contact, “y/n, you know i absolutely love you and your food but i feel confident in saying we’re both too distracted to eat right now, yeah?” you nod, hanging on her every word, “why don’t we just go to bed then?”

you let out, “yeah,” completely breathless and she leans in to completely cover your mouth, feeling her lips move against yours and it makes you moan, wrapping your arms around her and sighing, your brain fogging up and moving against her like it’s a second nature, because at this point it is.

she stands you both up slowly, keeping your mouths connected and holding your waist, drawing you close as you feel her tongue enter your mouth and explore. you gasp slightly, god, you missed this, missed it so much, youre holding on to her like you’re about to drown. shuri pulls away slightly, a small line of spit still keeping you both connected and you whine, she shushes you, “i’ve got you, shh, it’s alright, let’s go to bed, yeah?” and you nod and follow her, holding her hand and looking at her as if she’s taking you to bed for the first time again.

she captures your mouth again, now against the bed and you moan, opening up to her completely as she rubs down your sides, slipping her hands under your lingerie and you gasp. “shuri, cmon, please,” you whisper and she nods, and once you get a good look in her eyes you can tell she’s just as desperate as you are, if not more, and you think about the three times you denied her last night alone. she practically lays you down and climbs on top of you and attacks your neck.

you tilt your head and give her total access and she whispers, “you smell so good, love,” and you moan out a laugh, “i have you to thank, dear. how’d you even find that—!” you can’t even finish your question as shuri has completely lifted your dress, sliding her hands against your breasts and sucking hickeys into your skin. you moan out her name and lift your back so she can take off the bra which she does in one swift movement.

she sucks on one of your nipples as you moan and squirm, the foreplay alone making you already feel like you’ve ruined your underwear with your slick. shuri reaches down and palms you through your underwear and you throw your head back, gasping. oh, she’s being so mean, you think, and groan in frustration as you feel yourself growing more and more frustrated.

shuri picks up on this, “you want more, my love?” and you nod, bucking you hips against her hand to symbolize where you need it, and she smiles, “of course,” she whispers and finally, finally, she’s face to face with your heat, covered by the panties that are soaked beyond recognition. she moves the underwear aside, not completely taking them off, and the cool air of the room hits your lips causing you to moan breathless, any friction or stimulation driving you crazy.

shuri curses out lowly, before placing a kiss on top of your pussy. your hips stutter slightly and she laughs a bit, before going back to kissing your lips and licking up all your slick. you moan aloud, “yes, yes, please, please don’t stop—” so happy to finally have some stimulation on you and shuri sighs against you, taking all of you in and moaning like your the best meal she’s ever had. you grab the silk sheets from under you and toss your head back before shuri pulls away slightly, stopping all contact.

you don’t even say anything but your hips are being raised and shuri is practically ripping off your underwear to have better access to your entire pussy and she goes back into you completely, kissing you thighs and sucking on your clit, wasting no time. you jolt, “oh, fuck! haahhh, shuri, shuri, shuri—”

it’s perfect, you moan aloud, shuri is so perfect, the poor sheets evidence, you could hear them practically ripping as your orgasm approached, shuri’s mouth working you through it. you try to move away from her, not wanting the night to be over, god, you wanted her for hours and hours, just like she promised, but you felt it, your whole body becoming hot.

shuri holds your legs open, not letting you up, even though you warn her, “sthandwa, i’m cumming, i’m cumming—!” but she hums around your pussy, acknowledging you but not stopping. you feel it, your entire body opens up and your back arches, you feel your clit pulsing under her lips, and she keeps sucking, you whine high pitched as your orgasm racks through your body. you feel your pussy clench around nothing and shuri pulls away, gasping and her chin wet.

you sigh, legs falling open, as shuri kisses up your legs and stomach, moving your dress around until she reaches your mouth to kiss you and you taste yourself and moan, rubbing her shoulders and coaxing her out of her suit as she twists to get it off as well. she moans against you, pulling away slightly and she whispers, “you taste amazing, love,” and you smile, “your turn?”

she laughs, “you sound eager about that,” she says and you nod and sit up leaning her down, “i want to take care of you tonight, usana, you deserve it, yeah? can you lay down for me?” and shuri nods, semi breathless, as you sit on top of her taking off her clothes, and kissing all her skin.

she sighs softly, “you always take care of me, love. so good for me,” and she’s watching you work down her body until you get to her pussy, already leaking. you sigh, “so pretty, shuri,” and she laughs a bit too, before gasping as you kiss her lips, much like she did you, before opening her legs and licking around her, completely swallowing everything she moans and sighs out praises, “you’re so amazing, my love, take such good care of me, don’t you?”

you moan, pushing your clit against the sheets as you work on shuri; her praises have always turned you on, the way she sounds, the way she speaks, it’s always been your favorite part of her and doing things like this. you zone out entirely, only hearing how shuri’s pussy sounds and how heavenly her praises sound.

she moans a bit, holding onto the hands you had against her abdomen, “y/n, love, i’m cumming, you’re so good, making me cum, aren’t you darling, haaa, fuck, fuck—” and you feel it, her whole body jerks up and you feel her pussy release in your mouth, moaning along with her. you sigh and pull your mouth away and she sits up entirely, pulling you for an incredibly sloppy kiss, sighing deeply into your mouth and holding you close. you pull away first and smile, “good?” you whisper, and she shrugs, “i still wanted to fuck you properly, love. it’s not even that late to stop now, yeah?”

you look at the time, it was nearly 10 o’clock. normally you’d both have so many things to do in the morning that you’d both be scrambling to rush to go to sleep and wake up bright and early but with this week off, you laugh and agree, “okay, whatever you want,” you whisper back against her and she smiles, kissing you lightly before jumping up to the closet, getting her strap.

you lay back down, sighing, your whole body blooming. this time with shuri has got you giggly and practically high, as you feel yourself laughing once she comes back, boxers on and strap in hand. “you alright, love?” she says stroking your face while she’s at the edge of the bed and you sigh, looking up at her, “i just.. i love you so much. i’m so happy we’re finally spending some time together is all. i really missed you, shuri,” you admit, your eyes wet suddenly and she smiles at you and leans down to capture your mouth,

“i missed you more, sithandwa, you have no idea,” and you nod and agree, you probably didn’t have any idea, you really didn’t see shuri during this month at all, so who knows how deep her longing went for you. as she’s grabbing the lube and adjusting herself, you say softly, “show me,”

she looks up at you, curious, “what do you mean?” and you move slightly, trying to avoid her intense gaze as she strokes herself, “show me how much you missed me. make me feel it,”

and shuri smiles to herself a bit, opening your legs up slightly, and pushing the strap against your lips, the lube and your cum combining, “oh i intend to, my love, all. week. long.” she whispers back at you and you gasp, not even being to retort before you feel her push inside, the strap opening you up completely and you toss your head back with a breathless moan, “oh, shuri—!” you drag out her name as your eyes shut, feeling her practically push in your pelvis. she leans down to kiss you again and you wrap your arms around her, tears threatening to spill as you feel her, all of your wife, inside you.

your mind is completely broken, shuri, shuri, shuri— she’d completely captivated you. her mouth working against yours along with the feel of her abdomen practically kissing your clit has you nearly thoughtless. she pulls away, watching you intently, “you said anything i want, right, sthandwa?” and you mumble not holding eye contact, had you said that? you literally can’t remember, her dick taking over all your senses.

shuri kisses your cheeks, “i want you all night, okay? can you hold out for me?” and you moan and nod, wanting to do nothing but please her. she whispers an ‘i love you,’ into your skin and leans away from you to pick up your legs and slowly pull out and push back in.

you moan aloud, grabbing the sheets once more and shuri coaxes you through as you toss your head back and flex your thighs against her, body convulsing as her thrusts get faster and harder, barely letting you adjust. you’re nearly completely screaming now, haven’t been fucked like this in so long. you didn’t care if you woke the entire nation, the love of your life was finally, finally, making love to you for the first time in nearly months.

your body catches up to you though, before you’re even ready to accept it. your pussy clenches around shuri, and you whine, “oh, my love, i’m cumming, i’m cumming, please shuri, make me cum, uhhhnnn—” and she’s encouraging you with those lovely lovely praises again, “go ahead, my love, that’s it, baby, cum for me, be my good girl and cum,”

it’s all you need. your pussy squeezes and you feel your thighs tremble as you let go entirely, clit pulsing and your pussy completely sucking shuri in, and you moan unabashedly, feeling your back arch. when it’s over and your body settles, you nearly double over, so breathless and twitching. shuri pulls out to kiss you and sooth over your legs, before you feel her moving you slightly. you mumble, still fucked out from your orgasm and she kisses against you, “on your stomach for me, my love, can you move?” and oh god, she wants to go again.

you twitch and huff, still feeling your pussy leaking but you had promised her, whatever she wanted. you moan out a small ‘yes,’ and lay on your stomach, poking your butt out like you knew she liked, your head laying on your soft shared pillows.

shuri kisses down your back, “thank you, my intombi elungile, you’re so good for me, yeah?” she says, rubbing your pussy with two fingers, moving your cum around and feeling your clit with her thumb, you jerk, moaning at the overstimulation, “shh, baby, i know. just relax, i’ll be inside you soon enough, let me feel you, love,” she saying it all sweet but you feel tears spike your eyes, she was so cruel to you, knowing your pussy was overstimulated.

shuri kisses your butt and keeps you open as she plays with your clit and you buck, “i’m cumming, shuri, shuri—!” and you’re on your forearms now, moaning and grabbing at pillows, when you feel it, your third orgasm for the night racking through your body, making you whine and pull away from her fingers but she holds you open, watching your pussy twitch and shake, encouraging you all the way. “good girl, thank you baby, let it all out,” and you moan on top of her words.

you huff, feeling her come behind you and grab your throat lightly and kissing your cheeks, whispering thank you’s. you whine against her once you feel her strap move towards your pussy again, and she sighs, “open up for me, my love. be my good girl, okay?” and you moan and nod, her praises in your ear are all you need to keep going.

and once more, shuri’s fucking into you again, her skin slapping against the softness of your backside, making you twitch and grip the sheets. holy fuck, she was pent up, you recognized, and you couldn’t help but let the tears you had been holding spill out, your pussy feeling spent and full. shuri didn’t let up though, even though she heard your wet gasps and saw your nearly bucking back, she whispers again, “it’s alright love, i know you can take it, let it out,”

your moans change in tone again and you can’t even fathom what orgasm you’re on now, but you feel it approaching— it’s a low buzzing in your veins that sparks your brain. your mouth is drooling and you’ve given up on speech entirely as she fucks into you, harder and harder and harder.

shuri knows you’re cumming, however— she’s known your body like the back of her hand for a while now so she does was she does best: talking you through it and helping you get there. she uses her left hand to rub you clit in small, soft circles to counteract the harshness of her thrusts and you squeal, dropping your upper body entirely on the bed and the new position gives shuri complete access to your g-spot, something you had had her touch but never this close.

you yell out, “oh, right there, shuri, please RIGHT there, don’t stop, don’t stop, i need it, hhaaaa shuri i’m cumming i’m cumming—!” and shuri nods along, whispering praises in your back and you cum again, your body letting out whole tremors as you shake, and you feel it, your pussy is squirting and you can’t do anything but moan aloud, the pressure on your clit making you nearly lose your voice and shuri pulls out once more, and your body falls against the sheets. shuri lays down too, catching her own breath, and you lay closer to her, sighing, still fucked out to really speak but shuri kisses you because she knows you need it.

you whimper against her mouth and she pulls away and asks, “one more for me, love?” and you sigh, and nod, “where do you want me?”

shuri puts you on top of her, sliding down her strap until your clit is kissing her abdomen again and she even moans, “you look so gorgeous, my love, intle ngokupheleleyo, can you move for me?” she whispers, holding one of your hands and kissing your knuckles. you nod, your thighs shaking as you life up and slowly drop down again, whimpering, your silk dress completely covered in your sweat and cum.

shuri sees your struggle and sits up in her forearms and takes you in hers, whispering, “i’ve got it love, can you hold on to me, sweet thing?” and you nod, dazed and wanting to listen, so you wrap your arms around her and she holds your back and she thrusts slightly, a softer pace unlike the last time. you moan softly and completely fall into her and she leans you both back, holding on to your butt as she thrusts upwards into you.

you sigh out and moan, more tears spilling and shuri uses one her hands to wipe them away, kissing praises into your skin, “that’s it, sthandwa, let it all out for me, love, i’ve got you,” you whine back nothing that makes actual sense and shuri laughs slightly, still fucking into you, squeezing your thighs and flexing hers and suddenly you hear it; her voice has changed and she’s gasping lowly against you—

she’s about to cum.

you moan aloud at the thought and bring your mouth to hers for a very wet kiss and when you pull away you whisper first, “are you about to cum for me, my love?” finally having gained some speech back and you see shuri gasp and toss her head back and nod, “yes, yes, i’m so close, my love, i feel it, ahhnnn—” and you nod and decide to copy her, encouraging her like she does you even though you can feel your mind fogging up again and your own orgasm approaching.

“shuri, cum with me, please baby, i want to feel it, please, please, please—!” you whimper and she nods, thrusting unevenly now, solely focused on her own pleasure and she lets out one more harsh thrust and a quick shout of a curse and moan of your name, and you feel it, she’s cumming, shuri’s cumming all for you, and the thought alone pushes you over as well, and you moan, twitching against the strap as you feel yourself squirt out more.

you’re huffing through your nose, trying to catch your breath and shuri is too, moaning lowly at the feel of her orgasm subsiding and you both fall back against each other, sighing.

shuri pulls out slowly, holding you up and praising you for being so good and you whine as you feel her dick leave you, your pussy pulsing around nothing once she’s gone.

she pulls your face towards hers and kisses you deeply, rubbing your dress against your back and you moan into her mouth and sigh, feeling your body calm down completely. shuri pulls away first, “do you need anything, usana?” and you shake your head wrapping your arms around her, “just stay right here please,” you whisper softly and she nods, holding your waist and you whisper back, “do you need anything?”

shuri laughs a bit, sighing, “just you, love.”

you two had cleaned up after a long needed rest, laying back down with bonnets and head wraps on and actual pajamas, cuddled up at nearly 1 am.

shuri was tracing some patterns in your warm skin as you hummed softly, your eyes heavy with sleep and she kisses your forehead, “go to sleep love, we have nothing to do tomorrow,” she whispers and you believe her. you blink slowly once you looked up at her, sighing, “i love you so much,” you mutter out, words slurred because of sleep, and shuri smiles brightly,

“i love you more than you’ll know,” and you believe her.

y’all., soft dom shuri is all i need in my life, get that toxic shit away from me that’s not my wife!!

anyways i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you again, @maybachinparis for the request this was so much fun!!

i’ll add the translations for this later lol, it’s nearly 1 am i got work tomorrow so let me take my ass to bed, I HOPE YOU ENJOYEDDD🤎🤎

makes sure to reblog and send requests!!

#shuri x reader #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku #deijah wrote #my story

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tchallasbabymama · 2 years

Text

Troubled Waters Chapter Eighteen

We’re almost done, yall! Just two more chapters after this before we say goodbye to Nia and T’Challa. This one ended up being a little shorter than I had planned, but I'll make up for it with the next one for sure.

Here’s what I have planned for after this story ends, which will probably be enough to take us through the end of this year. As always, leave all the comments and hit that reblog button if you like what you read. Also, check out my masterlist to read my other works, and let me know if you want to be added to my taglist. Enjoy 😘

Word Count: 4,638

CW: violence

For the first time in the history of Wakanda, a war raged on outside the Necropolis. Birnin Mutata had always been a space for peace and reflection, but it turned into a battlefield in no time flat. The once serene treeline had become littered with bodies of all species, and enemy blood soaked the sacred ground as teeth, claws, and weapons sliced through their flesh with ease.

Alliances were forged on the battlegrounds that day, with Mandla and Okoye often finding themselves back-to-back, fighting as a well-oiled machine. They moved as one, and their soldiers acted as extensions of them both, razing down Asha’s army alongside their human and magic realm brethren and more panthers than any of them had ever seen at once.

Those panthers ended up being a secret weapon they didn’t even know they had. They were vicious with their attacks, and they knew exactly who was and wasn’t on their side as if they could sense Nia’s magic on the Wakandans marking them as allies. Unfortunately, without Nia’s protection, a few panthers were lost to the obambo, but the Wakandans protected them as best as they could. The possessed panthers didn’t last long, and were taken out by their kin in seconds, foiling the obambo’s sinister plan.

The Wakandans finally felt like they had gained the upper hand when suddenly, the ground started shaking, and the panthers crouched down low to growl at the disturbance. The few remaining bouda began to cackle during the momentary hiatus from the violent attack, and the obambo’s red eyes held a hopeful glint that spread to their skeletal mouths in twisted, toothy grins that disturbed their opponents.

“Ukudumisa Sekhmet,” hissed the obambo and their possessed as the bouda’s howling laughter echoed louder.

Inside the rumbling Necropolis walls, Sekhmet and Bast had met in the middle of the dungeon in a whirlwind of teeth and claws. Their movements were so quick that the only way to tell them apart was the deep darkness or tawny sand color of their fur. They paid the others no mind as they ripped at each other, both desperate to defeat their sister and claim Wakanda as their own.

Nobody else dared to move, each of them unable to take their eyes off the godly tornado tearing through the dungeon. Neither goddess paid them any attention as they fought; it could have just been the two of them there for all either of them cared. It wasn’t until Sekhmet landed a punch to Bast’s jaw and her head swiveled to the left that her eyes fell on her greatest granddaughter and she remembered her original plan.

“Destroy the altar,” Bast’s voice filled Nia’s head, and her wide eyes left the fight and flickered across the room towards the statue of Sekhmet looming over the simple lit candle and chalice of blood.

Nia began to slyly move in that direction when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Asha inching towards the middle of the room to get the knife Nia threw through her wing not moments earlier. Nia lunged for the blade before the former queen could grab it, and her fingertips just barely wrapped around the hilt when Sekhmet’s tail whipped in her direction and knocked her back across the room.

T’Challa caught Nia before she could crash into the wall, but the force of her body sent them both tumbling down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

Instead of responding, she whispered Bast’s message low enough for only him to hear, and he nodded as N’Jadaka helped them from the ground. As soon as she was on her feet again, Nia bolted towards the altar, but she noticed Asha had pulled herself from the ground and was making her way towards the open book on her desk, dodging Bast’s tail as it whipped in her direction.

T’Challa sensed Nia’s dilemma. “Handle her. We’ll get the altar.”

Nia nodded and took off after Asha as the door flung open and Ike’s sinister presence filled the room, sending a chill down the prince’s spine. The obambo king was flanked by two bouda that T’Challa recognized from that day in Daga’s office. He shuddered internally, remembering how those vibranium-capped claws felt when they ripped through his flesh. However, that feeling faded quickly when he remembered Nia’s magic covered him from head to toe, and his face hardened into stone while he calculated how he wanted to exact his revenge.

“I got the demon motherfucker,” said N’Jadaka.

“The bouda are mine,” T’Challa nearly growled.

Chiku and Banda stepped around Ike, their hulking frames hovering over the obambo by at least a foot while their vibranium-capped claws dripped a familiar red and their teeth shined brightly from the vibranium grills. They rounded on the humans, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smirk as they approached. Chiku’s leg was still injured from when he fought Nia last, and he walked with a limp. Banda’s skin hadn’t healed from his burns, and T’Challa’s chest swelled with pride in his love’s powers.

That love of his had once again found herself fighting her former queen. Asha had used the distraction of the new players entering the room to whisper an incantation under her breath to a spear leaning against the wall and hurl it at Nia, only for it to bounce off her protected skin and boomerang back towards Asha.

Nia grinned as she noticed fear settle into Asha’s eyes, but an all-consuming frustration quickly replaced that fear, and an angry growl escaped her seared lips. She had realized her strategy wouldn’t work on Nia, but she desperately needed it to. All those months of studying blood magic would go to waste if she couldn’t get some of Nia’s DNA.

An idea struck Asha, and she tucked her wings, wincing at the sharp pain emanating through her torn left wing as she charged at Nia.

To Nia’s left, she could see Bast and Sekhmet still fighting to the death, and on her right, two bouda were keeping T’Challa and N’Jadaka busy and away from Ike who still stood by the doorway. She sidestepped Asha’s attack, pivoting just out of reach at the last second, and ducking down to attack her middle with pointed jabs and swift kicks. Asha stumbled, unable to defend herself, until Nia swiveled out to land a roundhouse kick and Asha grabbed ahold of her hair. Nia felt one of her braids rip from her scalp, and her scream got the king’s attention across the room. Unlike last time, his hesitance wasn’t fatal, though Banda incorrectly thought it would be. He attempted to slice through T’Challa’s back when he turned towards Nia, and his bewilderment cost him his life. T’Challa ripped out his throat in his moment of confusion, spraying blood on Chiku and N’Jadaka while they fought.

He whipped back around in time to see Sekhmet falter as Bast’s razor-sharp claws sliced down her cheek, blinding her in one eye.

Unfortunately, that was all he saw because Nia and Asha had vanished.

---------

As soon as Asha snatched Nia’s braid, she hurried to her desk while Nia was too disoriented from the pain to grab her. She plucked a hair from the end of the braid and dropped the short coil into a vial of the same red liquid that dripped from the bouda’s claws.

“Ukudumisa Sekhmet,” she rushed out before taking the potion to the head.

Asha immediately felt the buzz of the death flower running its course. Her injured wing healed instantly, but the burns remained on her face, still stinging every time she moved her mouth as a reminder that Nia had tricks up her sleeve that neither she nor Sekhmet understood.

In the few seconds it took for the potion to fully take effect, Asha’s eyes flittered over to her altar, and she quickly checked to make sure the candle was still lit before she made eye contact with Ike across the room. He was still standing by the door, attempting to get into either the king or prince’s mind or body, and she briefly wondered why it was taking so long. She knew the prince would be difficult thanks to his gift from Kokou, but the king should’ve been a piece of cake. Asha had little time to act, so she shook the thoughts from her mind and pulled her attention back to Nia as she advanced on her from across the room. She attempted to control her the way she had practiced so many times before, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she couldn’t grasp Nia’s aura. It was like grabbing smoke or a mirage in the middle of the desert, fleeting and unobtainable.

Nia’s head injury throbbed as she stalked towards Asha, careful to avoid Bast and Sekhmet as they destroyed half of the dungeon, neither gaining the upper hand for more than a second. She felt like someone was trying to wrap her in a blanket of heavy stones, but she simply shrugged the imaginary textiles off her shoulders and fought the concrete heaviness creeping up her legs as she shuffled closer to Asha. That fear had returned to her eyes, and Nia felt empowered by the thought that she could evoke such a feeling in another person—especially someone who was so powerful themselves, just not as powerful as a descendant of Bast.

With her tunnel vision focusing solely on Asha, Nia didn’t even notice T’Challa take out Banda. All she saw was Asha shimmering away, but the former queen was too slow. Nia caught her arm mid-escape and followed right behind her. She snatched Asha back to her, but Asha butted her head before taking off, running as fast as she could through the in-between.

Nia ignored her bloody, broken nose and took off after her through the watery atmosphere. On one side of them was the combined human and magic realm, and on the other was the hidden realm within the Necropolis. Nia caught up to Asha and knocked her off-balance, shoving her into the combined realm, where Asha landed on her side and rolled into a tree in the forest just outside of Birnin Mutata.

Asha jumped up from her less-than-perfect landing just as Nia came through, wielding her knife like a deadly assassin. The blade sliced through the tree bark just as it would have her neck a mere second earlier, and Asha’s anger and frustration rose to an all-time high. Defeating Nia was supposed to be a simple task, and here she was nearly losing her life to a healer. Thoughts of disappointing Sekhmet filled Asha’s mind as it raced to figure out what to do next, but then she looked up at the lush canopy and it came to her: if she couldn’t beat her with blood magic, she’d just have to use her surroundings.

When Nia stepped forward to attack Asha again, she saw her lips moving quickly, and a look of desperation in her squinted eyes. She faintly heard the words “izihlahla ukuhlasela” and managed to jump out of the way as branches moved down to surround her. Nia had never seen such a thing before, but she didn’t have time to marvel at her new magical discovery. Vines shot out in her direction, and one snagged her around the wrist, but she cut it away and pulled herself from the woodsy tendrils as Asha shimmered out of view.

Asha thought she had safely escaped into the in-between, but Nia was hot on her heels, so she lifted into the air and flew as fast as she could. She needed to shake Nia so she could get to the palace, and she knew exactly where to go to preoccupy her. Asha made a hard left when she got to the edge of the human and magic realm border, and there, tucked just beyond the realm of the dead, was another small realm she had never actually visited before.

Nia looked ahead and saw the realm they were heading towards, and braced herself for whatever might be in there. She assumed the worst, monsters or maybe even Sekhmet’s private lair perhaps, but pushed extra hard to catch up with Asha. As they neared it, she reached down deep and found a burst of energy, using it to lunge at Asha right as they disappeared into the hidden realm. Nia grabbed onto Asha’s leg and knocked her out of the sky, that ever-present knife making itself known in her right wing this time.

Asha cried out from the pain and tears stung her eyes as she hit the ground. Through her blurry vision, she could see two figures in the distance by a body of water, and she prayed to Sekhmet that they’d be enough of a distraction for her to get away.

“H-help me!” she called to the two men, and they came closer as Nia kicked her to the ground. Asha fell to her knees, and Nia was about to end her life when a voice called out that she hadn’t heard in months.

“Nia?”

The voice rendered Nia immobile, and Asha took the short reprieve to shimmer away.

Nia didn’t even care that the former queen had slipped through her fingers.

Nothing mattered but that voice.

---------

“Nia stay disappearing,” N’Jadaka complained as he snapped Chiku’s neck and hopped off the bouda’s shoulders before his limp body crashed to the floor.

“Focus,” T’Challa nodded towards Ike.

The obambo’s usually calm demeanor was reeking of distress as he tried his hardest to possess either of them. Nia’s magic protected them both, but N’Jadaka had a little extra help from Kokou. His amulet glowed brightly on his chest every time Ike tested him, and a sick smile crept up his face knowing just how hard the bastard was trying to take him down.

N’Jadaka looked like a predator as he approached Ike. His red suit was speckled with gold and splattered with a copious amount of deep crimson blood, and the satisfied smile on his face flashed his gold canines. He was already relishing the feeling of crushing the life out of his former torturer, and Ike could see it in his eyes. The obambo king backed up towards the door, but he was too slow on his feet to get away. N’Jadaka grabbed him by his neck and slammed him into the altar, knocking over the cup of blood as Ike’s skeletal fingers clawed at his hand.

“Hey T, you know one of the perks of being Kokou’s new right-hand man?” N’Jadaka asked, an arrogant grin flashing his deep dimples.

“Uh, no,” T’Challa answered while standing watch at the door, making sure no other beings got the drop on them.

“Watch this.”

N’Jadaka reached for the red candle burning on Sekhmet’s altar. His fingertips caressed the flames, and they traveled up his hand to his arm. T’Challa and Ike watched in awe as the fire covered his entire body, and when his eyes fixed on his target, they were pitch black. The obambo struggled to get away, but N’Jadaka grabbed him tighter around the neck and listened to him scream as the flames traveled from the prince to the dying king. N’Jadaka held him down and looked him in the eyes as his flesh burned, that sick smile growing wider until he snapped Ike’s neck, showing him a courtesy that deep down he felt he didn’t deserve.

N’Jadaka allowed the altar to go up in flames, ignoring the smell of Ike’s burning body as he pushed Sekhmet’s statue to the ground in a blind rage. A crack formed just below her head and she cried out across the room. N’Jadaka looked her way and noticed she had shrunk to the size of a normal lioness. He put two and two together and lifted the heavy statue above his head before letting it crash to the ground, smashing it to bits.

Sekhmet cried out again as Bast sunk her teeth into her leg, and shame consumed the weakened goddess—not for her horrid actions, but for losing the battle. She could feel her power slipping away with every second. Ike was dead, and therefore his legion of obambo had gone with him and the beings under their control were now free to put their faith back in Bast. Asha’s altar, the primary source of Sekhmet’s strength, had gone up in flames, and her sister was somehow growing before her very eyes.

She tore at Bast with reckless abandon, hoping to cause at least a little damage, but Bast had grown twice her size and was whooping her ass something fierce. Sekhmet started getting woozy from the blood loss and couldn’t hold her own anymore. She didn’t even have the strength to maintain her lion body, and she ended up morphing into her hybrid form involuntarily when Bast knocked her down.

Staring up at her sister with her one good eye pleading for mercy, Sekhmet was met with nothing but an icy stare and a swipe of Bast’s heavy paw across her face. Sekhmet’s head hit the ground, and the last thing she heard before she passed out cold was the sound of Bast calling out for reinforcements.

N’Jadaka felt Kokou before he arrived. A tingle started in his gut and expanded to his entire body as the flames surrounding the altar grew legs and arms, then a head. He fell to his knees out of respect, and T’Challa did the same. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and the dungeon grew cold, but not the type of cold that made a person’s innards shiver. It was a hospitable drop in temperature, like a blast of air conditioner on a hot summer day. In strode Hanuman, his massive shoulders barely fitting through the door. Both gods nodded to the humans present and strolled past them on their way to the center of the room.

“It is good to see you, old friend,” Kokou said.

“We were worried about you,” Hanuman added, looking around at the space. “Is this where she kept you? It is so small for a realm.”

“Sekhmet never was very creative,” Bast grumbled, her eyes never leaving her unconscious sister, and Kokou and Hanuman followed her gaze down to Sekhmet in the middle of the floor.

“Yes, well, we should hurry.” Kokou stepped forward and produced a set of chains forged in his flame, strong enough to hold a god. He placed them around Sekhmet’s wrists, and Hanuman lifted her over his shoulder. “What of her allies?”

“Mostly dead by now.”

“Any stragglers?”

Bast closed her eyes and focused on the realms, searching for Asha’s aura. She sensed her reappearing in the newly combined human and magic realm, and a surge of eager energy traveled from Bast’s snout to the tip of her tail, making the hair along her spine stand at attention. She locked in on her aura and found her traveling towards Birnin Zana, and Bast’s lips curled in a snarl.

“Not for long.”

Kokou and Hanuman shared a knowing glance, thankful that neither of them was on the receiving end of Bast’s ire.

“We will see you after?” the gorilla god asked, and Bast’s face softened as she thought about the rest her body would need as soon as her adrenaline wore off.

“I will need somewhere to recuperate.”

Hanuman nodded deferentially at Bast and shimmered out of sight. Kokou turned to wink at N’Jadaka before doing the same.

“So that’s it?” N’Jadaka asked, standing to his full height.

“Not quite. N’Jadaka, stay here. T’Challa, handle outside. I will deal with Asha.”

“What about Nia?”

“She will be back soon, and I believe she has something for the prince,” Bast hinted slyly as she transported the three of them back to the human realm, but she shimmered away before either of them could ask for more information.

---------

Nia’s breath caught in her chest at the sight of him, and her mind completely forgot about Asha as she tried to focus on the vision before her. Her head swirled with the feeling of his aura, and even though she felt the other person present as well, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Sego.

There he was in linen pants with the sun glaring down on his splattered skin. Nia noticed his neck looked whole, as if that horrid night never happened, and she pretended for a moment that was the truth. The feeling of familiar arms wrapping around her pulled her from her daydream, and she sank into the coolness of Sego’s body.

“I-I can feel you. How is that possible?” Nia shuddered, squeezing him tighter.

“I missed you,” Sego croaked as he blinked away the tears that were determined to cloud his vision.

“I missed you, too.”

A deluge of tears came pouring from their eyes, and pained sobs replaced their words. Neither one of them could fathom ever letting go of their embrace out of fear of never seeing the other again, but when a throat cleared to Nia’s left, she opened her eyes to take a peek at the stranger disrupting their reunion.

“Sego, Nia, I hate to interrupt, but Asha—she is gone.”

“Who are you?” Nia asked, wiping her eyes.

“Prince N’Jobu.”

Nia blinked in shock, and she pulled back slightly to take in their surroundings.

“What is this place?”

“We don’t know, but it’s just the two of us here,” Sego answered, his face buried in her hair as he inhaled the wildflower scent he had missed so much over the last few months.

“I couldn’t sense it,” Nia murmured before realizing she needed to explain the sentiment. Her fingers traced the beads of her usekh as she pulled back to look at Sego. “This is from Bast… she’s my ancestor-”

“I know.” Sego smiled down at her, so proud of everything his friend had accomplished since he’d been gone.

“How do you know?”

“We’ve been watching, keeping track of what’s been going on.”

Nia’s face twisted in confusion, and Sego grabbed her hand in his, leading her to the watering hole. He gestured towards the water, and when she gazed upon the surface, she was shocked to see inside the Necropolis. Bast had grown much bigger than her sister, and gained the advantage while N’Jadaka destroyed Sekhmet’s altar. T’Challa paced in the doorway, still keeping watch and trying to calm his nerves about Nia’s whereabouts.

“I have been watching my son, and Sego has been keeping an eye on you,” N’Jobu explained.

“How does it work?” Nia asked.

Sego crouched down, and she did the same.

“I just think about you, then touch the water.”

He demonstrated, and the water rippled the image away, replacing it with Nia’s reflection. She was surprised to see her nose had dripped blood down her face, so she dipped her hands into the water and washed it away, healing her nose in the process. When she was done, thoughts of Amare filled her head and she reached her fingertips back out to caress the glassy surface. The image settled, and she saw him standing outside the Necropolis with his spear pointed at a bouda’s neck as the much larger being laid flat on his back. The bouda snarled and made a last-minute attempt to attack, but Amare’s spear was swifter than his opponent. All around him, the enemy army had either surrendered or laid dead on the ground. Nia could see dozens of dead obambo on the ground and the confused and traumatized looks on the faces of the formerly possessed as they tried to get their bearings on what had happened to them. The zombi were the only ones still putting up somewhat of a fight, but they were easy to corral into one section using the Border tribe blanket shields while the aziza attempted in vain to return their souls.

Sated in knowing her ubaba was alive, Nia focused her mind on Asha and touched the water again. They watched the disgraced queen stumble through the forest. She stopped to drink another vial of death flower potion and sat with her back against a tree as it took effect. Her wing healed, and she lifted from the ground in a rush of air, flying straight towards Birnin Zana.

Nia cursed under her breath and pressed Shuri’s contact on her communication bead. It rolled into her palm, and seconds later, the princess’s hologram floated above her hand.

“Asha’s on her way to you from the northeast.”

“We’re in position.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Shuri’s hologram disappeared, and Nia stood to her full height, wiping her wet hand on her suit.

“Let’s go.”

Sego’s eyes lit up, but N’Jobu seemed a little hesitant.

“Excuse me?”

“Come on. You two are coming with me.”

“I don’t think that’s pos- Nia, look.”

N’Jobu gestured back to the water, and Nia saw Asha land in front of the palace. Soldiers of all species surrounded the structure, including Shuri and Ramonda. The princess wielded her panther gauntlets, and her mother, still clad in her isicholo, looked deadly next to her in her old Dora Milaje uniform.

“Surrender and survive, or fight me and perish,” Asha yelled.

Shuri and Ramonda shared a glance. They were ready for war, but just as they got ready to advance, a large panther appeared behind Asha. The mother-daughter duo fell to their knees in the goddess’ presence, and the rest of the army followed suit. Asha, always one to be impossibly arrogant, assumed their kneeling to be a sign of surrender, and began laughing.

“I have to say, I expected a fight,” she said, stepping forward to claim her throne.

“Do not move,” Bast growled, and Asha froze when she recognized the voice.

Bast stepped around Asha, and stood on her hind two legs, transforming into her hybrid form. Her body looked much stronger than it had over the past few months, no doubt empowered by the prayers of her devotees still rolling in from around the country, and her face was set in a scowl as she glared at Asha, who looked as though she would be sick.

“H-how did you-”

“My sister has been detained.”

“By who?”

“That is not your concern.”

Bast snapped her fingers, and Asha crumbled to her knees from the weight of the goddess’ power pressing down on her shoulders.

“Now, I will give you a choice. You may live your life stripped of your powers, or you may die by my hand.”

“Bast, please, you don’t understand-”

“Begging will get you nowhere, Asha.”

Asha’s mind filled with thoughts of the power she almost had, and she began to sweat. She was so close, all she had to do was…

Asha’s lips twisted into a smirk, and she tried one last trick she had up her sleeve. She began whispering under her breath, but before she could even finish her incantation, Bast’s claws sliced clean through her throat. The soldiers all watched in amazement as the crimson liquid poured down the palace steps and into the river, still dammed from their protection ritual.

“Dumisani Bast,” Shuri uttered, and her mother echoed her praise as they both lowered themselves to their knees, bowing to their goddess. The soldiers took their lead, and Bast’s praises echoed around the group as they all fell to their knees, enthralled by the miraculous, gruesome sight they just witnessed.

Bast smiled at them and crossed her arms over her chest in a salute. She felt the weight of the past few months lift from her shoulders, and she shimmered away with a contented sigh, looking forward to resting for as long as her body would allow.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem , @theblulife , @motheroffae , @love-mesome-me , @toni9 , @dersha89 , @impremenior , @ljstraightnochaser , @love—life—passion, @yourstrulybrii, @hon-eey , @ariesthetouchdeprivedgirl , @ashanti-notthesinger , @brattyfics , @cecereads209 , @wakandan-smuts-forever , @miryalle , @rolemodelshit , @afrosandsweatpants , @queengodiva619 , @goddessofmischief0711 , @chereedrop619 , @blkbutterfly816 , @violettedelightz, @sarifinasnightmare , @afriendlyblackhottie , @brihann, @nonbineraryitinerary , @musicisme333, @strangeprincex

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #t’challa fanfiction #t’challa angst #t’challa x black!oc #black panther au #fantasy au #aziza

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liyawritesss · 1 year

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ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.2k

Synopsis: In your embrace, Shuri reflects on how far she’s come, and how your love has helped her through it all.

Warnings: mentions of t’challa and ramonda’s death, slight angst, overall bittersweet fluff, vulnerable!shuri

A/N: this was written as me taking a break from writing the series for a bit due to some blockage. I think it’s pretty cute…we need some vulnerable!shuri in our lives. Suggested Songs: "I Gotta Find Peace of Mind" by Lauryn Hill, "Not Today" by Alessia Cara

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @h34rtsformilli @typicalme13 @shuris3leg @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @percsane @justariellove @n7cje @mbakuetshurisprincess @mxyx-rx444 @hippiedippyshit @arin-swear-rose @locoforshuri @sinsikoxo @6-noir @naomis-daydream @missdforever

It’s midnight, Shuri is sure of it. She can tell by the height of which the moon hangs in the sky, how brightly it shines into her bedchambers, casting a soft white-ish blue glow into the room. It stretches as far as the the frame of her floor to ceiling windows will allow it, cutting off just as the glow covers her large bed, of which she rests in. She’s propped up against the headboard, the moon’s shine casting an ethereal glow upon her cocoa skin. She sports a simple black sleepshirt, one that belonged to her brother years ago. It used to be a dress on her, swallowing her frame, and while it’s still rather baggy on her, she’s grown into the certain pieces she’s stolen from his closet as a late teenager. They’re part of the last remaining memorabilia of her brother, T’Challa. She doesn’t cry when she wears his clothes anymore. She slips into them, allowing the faint scent of sage and teakwood to envelop her, and she remembers the good days instead.

On her right hand, a ring rests on her thumb. It was her mothers; thick and gold and as shiny as if it were made that day. It is designed to replicate the look of a braid - at least, she has always believed that to be the case - with loops and interlocking of parts of the band that follow around the circumference of it. Shuri can hear her mother’s voice now - perhaps it is her own mind conjuring up the memory of her mother lecturing her on the meaning of it, perhaps it is actually her mother speaking beyond the Ancestral Plane - and she is reminded of it’s meaning; the depiction of infiniteness in any aspect of the wearer’s discretion. In Ramonda’s case, it was made to depict the infiniteness of her love; for her family, for her people, for her country - both maiden and current.

Love, Shuri thinks; yes, her mother’s love is indeed infinite. She feels her mother’s presence in the moon - soft, regal, and calm, just as it was when she was alive.

Her hand is placed atop yours, and she smiles softly. She is having yours made at this very moment, in the traditional way it was originally created. She thought you’d like it that way. She hopes you do.

It would only be a small token of Shuri’s affections for you, but nonetheless, one with much meaning. She remembers how she was originally apprehensive when meeting you. She was apprehensive about everything back then. Yet now, you’ve secured yourself a place in her bed, and have carved yourself a place in her heart, and Shuri could no longer imagine life without you.

It was a terrifying feeling, Shuri remembers, opening up to someone once more, much less, falling in love. Romance was never intended to be a part of her story, you see. Shuri no more believed in love than she did in the Ancestral Plane, in the traditions of old. She had been married to her occupation as a scientist for the majority of her life, and even after the devastations of war and the death of her family, she never yearned for a romantic partner. And yet, you’d changed her entire perspective on the subject matter in ways even she couldn’t comprehend.

Shuri sighs as she traces your sleeping figure, commemorating your facial features to memory as she had done numerous times before, but always found herself mesmerized time and time again.

Your love was something Shuri could never comprehend. It was an equation she’d become comfortable not being able to solve. She’d come to understand that perhaps there were things in the world that didn’t need to be explained, and if it meant she could experience the love you’d provided for her for the rest of her days, then Shuri would willfully bask in her own ignorance for as long as need be.

Your love was gentle. No matter how harsh her words or standoffish nature was, the feathery touch of your affection always reeled her back into you.

Your love was deep. She felt it in her core with every kiss, becoming one with her bone marrow and spreading outwards to the rest of her body.

Your love was healing. Shuri had believed herself to be broken beyond repair, and yet, when you came into her life, you helped her pick up the pieces, fitting them back together. You’d cultivated the monarch into a woman who learned from her pain, using it as a guide.

Your love was peaceful. It quelled the darkness in her mind that plagued her existence. On days where it became hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to exist - your tender touch and the beat of your heart gave her peace of mind.

That’s what you are, Shuri thinks, you are my peace of mind.

A hum erupts from your lips, and a small puddle of guilt forms in Shuri’s stomach as you stir awake, believing herself to be the cause of your broken slumber. Your eyes flutter open, and the soft irises that come to meet her own absolutely melts her. It almost pushes away that guilt, and with it, the apology that is ready to spill from her lips. Feeling her gaze soften on you, a small, sleepy smile graces your lips.

“My love, you’re not supposed to be up,” You murmur, your shoulders shifting, causing the blanket covering them to slip off ever so slightly, “come here, baby.”

Shuri doesn’t even think twice about obeying your request. She’s more than happy to oblige, sliding down the mattress to match your position, facing you. Shifting onto your back, you pull Shuri’s head to rest on your chest, and she wraps her strong arms around your body, allowing the warmth of your body to penetrate her cold skin. She shudders softly, which is soon soothed by your hand caressing her back, smoothing out the fabric of her sleepshirt. She more than welcomes it.

“Thinking too much again?” You hum. Shuri feels the vibrations of your voice through your chest. She nots into your skin, nuzzling deep into the crevice of your neck, finding comfort in your warmth and your scent.

“Relax, beloved,” you whisper to her, your hand trailing up to the nape of her neck, gently caressing the blunt fuzz that was her undercut, your thumb stroking the space lovingly, “I have you. Let your mind rest.”

Shuri nods into your neck once more. It only takes three deep inhales of your scent for the monarch to feel her mind already slowing to a halt. You continue to whisper sweet nothings into her ear, as her body gradually relaxes into your hold. It takes a few minutes, but soon, Shuri stills, her heart rate leveling out as she falls into slumber, still holding you close. You are just as much of her anchor when she’s asleep as when she’s awake.

And as this nightly ritual comes to an end, with the two of you holding each other impossibly close, basking in your love underneath the moonlight, Shuri’s final thoughts before she gives in to the sleep that begs for her, is she has found her peace of mind; and her peace of mind will forever be you.

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intothemultifandom · 1 year

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– 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 [𝟏/𝟑] || 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐚

SUMMARY: In the aftermath of The Blip, you and Attuma–warriors turned interim leaders–bond over loss, grief and the weight of two different worlds. When the second blip occurs, those who’ve returned decide to wage war. Unaware of the relationship you’ve forged in their absence. PAIRINGS: Attuma x Reader, Wakandan!Reader, T’challa + Shuri Sister!Reader TAGS/WARNINGS: angst ; hurt and comfort

You lost your siblings during The Blip.

T’challa had turned to dust right before Okoye, Shuri scattered somewhere out on the battlefield; and a weight unlike any other (the weight only your brother knew) settled around shoulders when the wind did not claim you, too.

At only seventeen, you had been reduced to an only child by the snap of a Madman’s fingers. Expected to ascend the throne now that your older siblings could not. Not that you would, given your distaste of politics and the UN Embassy in general.

Where T’challa was King and Shuri led your scientific division, you had trained under the tutelage of the Dora Milage. Had become one of the best warriors of the country in spite of your youth, expected to surpass Okoye once you reached her age.

Your natural skill had fuelled your desire to join the War Dogs before N’Jadaka had come into the picture (as Princess, you could not join the Dora Milaje officially), a dream you had to contribute to the safety of your Kingdom and your brother’s reign under the aloofness of being the youngest child.

In the eyes of the world that remained, however, this was not possible when your existence, your survival, received constant praise by Nations who hungered for someone young and naive to ascend the throne.

To their displeasure, you’d assumed leadership over the secret division of your country instead, entertained by the thought of Colonisers dictating what you did with yourself. Your amusement further peaked as you presented yourself publicly as Wakanda’s Consulate General alongside your natural title as Princess.

With your Mother maintaining the throne and dealing with politics, you’d spent the first three years working diligently to forget your siblings’ absence. Your own grief and shame.

Someone had to stamp out the political unrest in your country, had to re-establish Wakanda’s spy-network in the midst of mounting political tension around the world.

And you had done it all at from seventeen to twenty, held together by the love of your Queen Mother and spurred on by the council of your closest confidants, Okoye, Aneka, Ayo and, surprisingly, the Jabari’s own M’Baku.

The success of your network around the world had earned you the respect of many, though nothing cemented your legacy more than what happened during the Wakandan three-day-Massacre:

The Marube Tribe were a relic of time, isolated from the rest of your country when they denounced the advancement of your technology.

Deep in the Mute Lands, they’d practiced old customs and studied even older texts where, in the shadow of Thanos’ terror, they’d turn to ancient techniques to make their warriors strong. Stronger than even the Black Panther.

Since they could not ingest Vibranium through the heart-shaped herb, a group of their men had etched it into their flesh. Tattooed the raw substance into the planes of their body so they could flow better with nature.

And for a brief time, it worked. The process had given them unnatural durability and strength, the ability to run faster than the wind and yet capable of moving the Earth with a stomp of their foot.

Only, Vibranium itself is radioactive unless tempered with a substance only Shuri and her division knew how to make.

And with your sister and her team gone, ashes in the wind; the Marube tribe, without knowing the consequences, inadvertently kickstarted what might’ve been the doom of your people with the creation of the Madmen.

As Vibranium had become one with flesh, the radiation did not blister skin nor melt flesh from bone. Instead, it drove the person to madness, to a murderous rage that would not end and was made even worse by the indestructibility of their bodies.

In a single night, the Madmen decimated nearly their entire village before they took to their neighbours.

When the missive came the following morning, your Queen Mother demanded only for the Dora Milaje to go, for them put an end to the madness before it reached the Golden City.

What she seemed to forget was that the last Madman you fought murdered your siblings, so you could not, would not, simply remain in the Palace.

And so as stealthily as you could for someone who’d learned many tricks from Nakia, you followed your warrior-sisters beyond the throne room, grateful that Okoye turned a blind eye when she caught you amongst their numbers.

The battle against the Madmen had been a ruthless and bloody affair.

The people who fought with you and against you were your own people; the land you fought on once roamed by your Ancestors; yet no amount of familiarity could diminish the brutality of war as the Madmen slaughtered your people in masses, pushed your team deeper into the battlefield and towards the centre of their ruined Tribe like wolves surrounding sheep.

Just as you thought you had reached your end, had stood back-to-back with Okoye, Aneka and Ayo and readied yourself for death, Bast had smiled on you that day as the survivors of the massacre–women and children who’d hidden themselves beneath the ground–opened a hidden hatch and welcomed your group into their refuge.

The Marube people may have denounced modern Wakanda; but they were Wakandan all the same.

For almost half an hour, you and the warriors huddled with them in the dark of their underground cave system where you’d grieved and planned, prayed for your Ancestors to see you through another day even when the Madmen waited for you above.

It had been one of the Elders who survived, a woman named J’Kobe who weakly presented the idea of someone undergoing the same process as the men above to turn the tides of the battle. She who suggested bestowing a great power upon someone, anyone, so that they could end the Madmen’s bloodshed once and for all before madness took them.

It would be a sacrifice, went unsaid.

As the determination settled on Okoye’s brow and Ayo and Aneka shared a sad, resigned smile (they’d realised too that the Madmen could not be beat as their weapons bent under the pressure of their strength)–you had stepped towards J’Kobe with the memory of your family and your people, the smile of a toddler who bared your brother’s name, as you knelt at her feet and offered yourself before they could.

Your siblings had been gone for three years, and in those three years you’d found no dignified way of joining them until then: ...though of course, you didn’t actually die as you thought you would.

Even now, you could not remember what had happened down in those tunnels, how long your friends had argued against your decision before you laid on your back and then your stomach, the pain immeasurable as they and J’Kobe embedded the Vibranium along different areas of your body.

Tattooed by your countries most fearsome warriors and one of the last practitioners of old, you did what many thought was impossible when you ascended the tunnels with fresh tattoos that glowed purple and a newfound strength to greet the Madmen as an equal match.

On the third day of the three-day-Massacre, you gave your people a new protector as you stood over the Madmen who lay at your feet, defeated:

Olumo, J’Kobe called you.

Molded by God.

After the battle had been won, and you’d marched with your Warriors and the survivors home to prepare to be put down, to apologise to your Mother one last time before calling Nakia; like the wind that did not claim you when your siblings disappeared, death did not take you in the end, too.

Because your Father, his Father and so on, ingested Vibranium through the heart-shaped herb, they’d altered their genetics and granted their children and lineage invulnerability to the radiation of Vibranium.

Meaning you would not be lost to madness from the procedure after all, a stroke of luck for your friends who considered sacrificing themselves.

Since then, you’d fought many battles as Olumo, the disciple of Ptah and Kokou. Had succeeded in many minor and major battles that helped you carve your own legacy as you fought for True Wakanda, your Vibranium tattoos a symbol of your service and devotion.

There were days, of course, when the power you’d been bestowed stirred uncomfortably. Days where you felt restless in your own skin, plagued with the undeniable urge to move, run and fight.

You’d always been a warrior than a leader.

The Dora Milage, adored as they were, were supportive in this regard; always ready to give you an outlet to rid yourself of this feeling as you fought and sparred them in the safety of your Kingdom.

Even M’Baku and his warriors, through a rare sight in the Capital, sparred with you when they could.

It wasn’t until you met him, though, that you felt more alive than you’d felt in the past three years. Felt seen and understood in a way that your friends and Mother could not and would likely ever understand, given the power and responsibilities you now held.

His name was Attuma, and he called himself the greatest warrior in the underworld.

NOTES:

• This is Part 1 (context; your POV) of a three-part-story.

• Part 2 (snippets of you and him during moments in-between; his POV) will be coming soon.

• Your background is inspired by the BLACK PANTHER #7 (Origins of Vibranium) + BLACK PANTHER #3 (#200 Legacy)

• Ptah the Shaper is considered the god of metal alloys, mainly Vibranium whereas Kokou is considered the Wakandan god of War

TAGLIST:

@tommymcartney ; thanks for inspiring me to keep writing! 📝

#attuma #attuma x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #black panther wakanda forever #black panther: wakanda forever #wakanda forever #wakanda #dora milaje #talokan #namor #shuri #mcu imagine #black panther imagine #attuma imagine #intothemultifandom

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quintessencewrites · 10 months

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I'm IronHeart

college student! Riri x college student!fem!black! reader

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-”

“You only like it when its pretty?”

A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

Warnings: Angst!!! suggestive tones, no actual smut though (sorry, y'all this one is just a tease), fluff, N-word usage, explicit language, implied cheating, some of y'all might not like how reader and Riri talk to each other, but it's just their dynamic, and I think it's cute (I also like em toxic, though sooo), probably some that I missed.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @sapphicvqmpires @pocketsizedpanther @oceean @venusdraco-deactivated20230701

“Nah, baby, you ain’ listening to me-”

“I’m listenin’, you just wrong-” Riri’s chuckle was deep, her vocal cords vibrating through the smoke clouding her lungs.

A once-fat blunt sat snug between her index finger and thumb, passing from her parted brown lips to yours, sitting so prettily and plump.

“Well, if you listening, you ain’ hearing me.”

Riri’s free hand was tangled in your curls, tugging at your scalp every so often. The scent of sativa would be embedded in your tresses, coating the bedding beneath you. The two of you were stuck, your highs weighing heavy on your limbs and freezing you in a statuesque space.

You laid between Riri’s legs, your head against her torso, eyes closed and finger waving at nothing in particular, illustrating your point for your stubborn girl to follow.

“I’m not tryna hear you, ma-”

It wasn’t a real argument. The two of you were stifling giggles through your disagreement, both trying hard to get your points across.

“I’m just saying, Ri-”

“Uh huh,” she lulled lazily.

“If she was a good superhero, she wouldn’t have to hide her identity!”

“What if she’s a good superhero because she hides her identity?” Riri countered.

Her rebuttal had you stuck for a moment, your usually quick mind slowed greatly due to your intoxication.

“No? No, that’s not how that works, Ri-”

“It is-”

“It isn’t! Tony Stark was Iron Man, right?” You were upright at this point, right hand squeezed tight into a fist, punching your open hand to accentuate your statements. “Iron Man was a good superhero, and we knew his identity.”

Riri’s mouth was open, but your words were trampling hers.

“T’Challa didn’t hide that he was The Black Panther-”

“But-”

“And neither did Shuri! She goes to our school for fuck’s sake-”

You were giving her no chance to argue back, your voice climbing octaves each time she tried to speak.

Your chin fit in Riri’s hand like a perfect puzzle and she used it to draw you near her, taking what was left of the barely-there joint and embedding it between your lips. “Shh, baby. You gotta let me talk.”

The prolongtivity of your high redirected your attention and Riri took her chance to make her counter-point, albeit, a pathetic one.

“Spiderman’s a great superhero, and we don’t know his identity.”

Silence was your only response and your eyes darting to the ground brought a slick smirk to your girl’s face.

“You saying Spiderman not a great hero?”

“I ain’ say a thing-”

“Exactly-”

Your snicker came out much louder than you intended, but Riri wasn’t jarred by it. “You gave me one hero to prove your ‘secrecy is better’ bullshit and he’s another one of Tony’s lackeys. I gave you three, one of whom, IronHeart took her identity from to begin with!”

“She ain’ take her identity from nobody-”

“Fine, her “mentor” then,” the air-quotes emphasizing your words were full of sarcasm.

“Her mentor, who inspired her-”

“She was so inspired that she copied the suit, but wanna keep her name a secret? I just wanna see the little white girl who got a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.”

Riri’s mouth hung open, shock furrowing her brows and stunting her words. The corners of her mouth twitched, unsure if she should laugh or scowl. Little sounds crept from the back of her throat and they couldn’t come together to form a full sentence.

Laughter poured from your lips, the expression on her face tickling you greatly. Slight giggles grew to guffaw chuckles, producing an annoyed eye roll from the girl sitting across from you.

The weight of the bed shifted as she stood, head shaking at your goofy ass. “Not a damn thing funny, y/n.” Riri’s words were stoic, though one look at her face revealed the smile she failed to hide.

“N-no, no, don’t go, baby. I’m sorry-” the half-assed apology came out in gasps, trying and struggling to catch your breath as your laughter died down.

“No, you not. Gon laugh at me right in my face-” Ri grumbled, walking across the room to retrieve her bag.

You rose to your knees, arms reaching for Riri, feigning her hurt in the corner of your room. “I am, I am, Ri. Come on, you don’t gotta leave-”

She takes a step back toward you, letting your hand enclose around hers while she brought her free one up to her face. LED numbers blared from the watch clapsed on her wrist. “Actually, I do, baby. I was supposed to be gone ten minutes ago.” Riri only had five minutes before her chem class was set to start without her and the quick thought to skip it crossed her mind.

You were many things, though a mind-reader wasn’t one of them. You could have had Riri fooled, however, with the way your next words mirrored her thoughts.

“Skip it-”

She could- Bast knows how badly she just wanted to get back into bed with you, riding out this high you were experiencing together-

But she wouldn’t.

“I can’t, baby-”

“You can!” Your shoulders jumped slightly with the wince produced from hearing how whiny you sounded.

“I can’t.” Her no was final. “I gotta get a good education-” Ri stepped closer, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. “So I can get a good ass job-” A duplicate kiss landed on your cheek. “And make a lot of money-” And the other cheek. “So I can afford to keep your bougie ass happy.” This time her lips touched yours, softly.

You wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, to graze your tongue against hers and taste the smokiness off of it. Before you could snake your hands around her neck and pull her down into you, Riri pulled away, causing an annoyed sigh to escape your parted lips.

“When you coming back?”

Riri’s hand ran across her face, her slender fingers pressing against her temples just slightly. “Um, probably late tonight. I got statistics after chemistry and we got an exam tomorrow so I need to study without any distractions.” She looks pointedly at you when ‘distractions’ falls from her mouth.

Your eyes are suddenly drawn to the carpet beneath her planted feet, not trying to hear her go on again about her failed physics test a few weeks ago. “Haines let you make it up though and you passed the second time-”

Mhm, she hums quietly. “Just lemme get your spare, in case you sleep when I get here.”

Still avoiding eye contact, you point to your messy desk on the other side of the room and Riri strides over to it to retrieve the key before heading to your door. Her five minutes have long gone and she’s going to have to sprint across campus to make it to class, a task she’s not looking forward to.

“No goodbye kiss?” You question in a final attempt to change her mind.

It doesn’t work. “Mwah,” Ri’s lips pucker in your direction and just as quickly as it opened, the heavy door shuts behind her.

Too many hours have passed. Your eyelids grew heavy not too long after Riri had left and what you’d promised yourself would be “just a quick nap,” turned into you peering back into the world nearly five hours later.

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath, sitting up slowly with the ache of sore muscles almost pulling you down once more.

The sky beyond your open window was dark, a deep pitch-black coating everything in its cloak. Classes had ended long ago and Riri was probably holed up in her room, her nose buried in a book as thick as she.

When her tiny frame took place in the seat across from you in the cafe the next morning, it did so with a thud full of exhaustion.

Her head stayed down, her eyes cast on the croissant untouched before her.

“Fuck wrong with you?” You questioned, elbows pressing into the table, through a mouthful of fruit. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“What happened to starting a sentence with ‘good morning’”? Her face rose slowly and it didn’t take you long to notice the imperfection running across her otherwise perfect skin.

It was long, stretching from her left cheek, across the bridge of her nose and stopping just short of her right eye. The thin mark had already begun to scab over but it’s undertones were a deep red and the damn thing looked painful.

Panic was your first reaction, your hand darting out to imbed your index finger and thumb into her cheeks and draw her face closer. “What the fuck happened to you?” You turned her head every which way, inspecting the mark with careful eyes.

Riri was silent.

“Hello? Riana Williams-”

“You don’t gotta use my government-”

“What the hell happened to you? You said you was gonna hit the books, you ain’t say they was gonna hit you back.”

The tiny smile that played across her lips softened your heart just a bit. “You think you funny?”

“No, but you do.” Your hand dropped from her face, finally releasing her from your hold. “What did you do?”

Riri’s mouth opened, but the words didn’t want to come out. She fumbled about them, pausing for a moment before a sigh was the only thing she could respond with.

“Nothing, baby. Just a little accident in the garage-”

“Garage? When was you in the garage, Ri? I thought you was gonna go to class and study-”

“And I did,” her hands reach across the table to grab both of yours, bringing them to her lips for a brief kiss. “Went to make some alterations to a project for my metallurgy class. Fell asleep there last night.”

“Okay, but even so, you know to be careful, Riana-”

“You gon stop calling me-”

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-”

“You only like it when its pretty?”

She catches the palm of your hand with her lips in a quick kiss before rising to her feet. “We hanging after class?”

You’re peering up at her with pretty brown eyes, so round, so full of life they sparkle. “You got time for me with all the studying you got to do?”

Her gaze scans the watch that never leaves her wrist, pretending to analyze it for a moment before responding. “I can pencil you in. 6?”

“Oh you can pencil me in?” Laughter rings through your words, flowing straight to Riri’s ears, mimicking your actions. “Get your goofy ass gone.”

“Love you,” Her lips touch your forehead much too quickly for your liking before her steps retreat and the sway of her hips hypnotize you as she leaves.

The day goes by too fucking slowly, the little hands on the clock barely moving, as though to tease you. Each class drags on and on and on, until the sun finally sets on the horizon, threatening to bring the day to an end.

The time had rounded out well past 6.

“If you gon cancel on me, at least have the decency to say so-” The phone sat balanced between your cheek and shoulder, keeping the receiver close to your ear as you moved about your room, trashing the rose petals that littered your sheets and stashing the already wrapped blunts on your bedside table.

“We gon work on your greetings, baby.” Riri spoke, voice deep and stuffy.

“Riri, cut the shit. Where you at and why it ain’t my bed?”

“Because I’m in my bed, baby.” She sniffled, throat thick.

“Why? And why you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“You sound gross.”

“Damn, thanks. I ain’ feeling good-”

“Probably cuz you slept in that cold ass garage last night instead of next to me where you was supposed to be-.”

Riri paused, allowing your sarcasm to cut her sentence straight down the middle. “I’m gonna just kick it here tonight, baby.”

You’d be lying had you said you weren’t upset. Riri had been around you sick more times than you could count; this time didn’t have to be any different. “A’ight, well, want me to bring you something? Soup or some shit? We can just chill in bed with a movie? I can hold you-”

This time it was Ri who cut you off. “I’m good, baby. I’ll just rest tonight and we can make it up tomorrow.”

The swiftness with which she rejected you stung, along with the tears forming behind your lids. “Okay,” you answered bluntly.

Riri could hear the hurt in your voice, wanting to alleviate it just as she’d caused it, but she pressed onward.

“Okay, baby. Love you.”

She hadn’t even given you time to repeat the words of affection before she’d hung up.

The more minutes that passed, the more time angry thoughts had to stir in your mind. Moving from your couch to your bed to your desk chair wasn’t enough to calm your maddened nerves. Your feet continued to shuffle, though they brought you nowhere.

Riri was pulling away, acting all funny and shit. Maybe it was the stress of school, the end of the academic year nearing, finals looming over your heads. You could imagine her, sickly and snotty, buried beneath a stack of textbooks.

Your hands worked quicker than your mind had the time to process. The only remedy food you had was the canned crap, but it would have to do. Keys in one hand and can in the other, you trekked into the night.

She’d feel some type away about you interrupting her studying; maybe be slightly annoyed by your risk to her germs, but there wasn’t a single fiber in you that cared.

The night air was warm and damp, the walk to her dorm a rather short one.

One quick knock, followed with silence. Riri’s door remained shut, without a sound on the other end. Another knock, then one more before you grew impatient. “Ugh, I got that damn key somewhere-” The keys on your ring jingled too loudly in the quiet hall. There were too many keys, all similar shapes and most not having a lock to open.

You tried one and failed. Your girl was a hard sleeper; it was no surprise that she didn’t stir to let you in if she wasn’t awake. Another key was inserted into the lock carefully, and that too failed.

“Shit-”

The wooden door rattled beneath your knocks, attempting once more to pry it open with a different key. Your sigh of relief echoed off the still walls when the key turned and the lock clicked.

You entered the room slowly, not wanting the light from the hall to wake your sleeping girl in her dark space. On the tips of your toes and with the gentlest fingers, you shut the door behind you until its hinges locked in place and the darkness in the room swallowed you once more.

Shoes at the door and keys beside them, you turned to look about the room, expecting to see Ri hunched over her desk with drool falling from her lips or in her bed, covers drawn over her head.

To say you were surprised to see neither was an understatement. Her desk sat clean and bare, her bed unmade but untouched.

Bathroom; she’s gotta be in the bathroom.

You walked toward the door, gathering your weight on the knob until it gave way. It was dark, empty.

Riri was nowhere to be found in the small space. Several thoughts ran through your mind and none of them made sense.

Maybe she went to get food? Your phone illuminated the dim dorm and the line trilled, over and over and over again before it was the voicemail that greeted you and not Riri’s voice.

Maybe she went for a walk? Again, the line rang and rang and rang, and again, there was no answer.

Maybe she went to get meds? The line didn’t even ring anymore; each call was answered by an automated voice messaging system.

60 minutes passed with you seated on Riri’s bed, full of worry.

90 minutes passed and you shifted from the bed to the loveseat with worry turned to anger.

Two and a half hours later and sleep began to weigh heavy on your lids as you sat behind her desk.

Three hours later, you got up and walked out of her room, leaving behind the unopened can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and the spare key to her dorm.

Your sleep was restless, interrupted by frequent glances at your phone screen, expecting, hoping for a missed call from Riri. Hell, even a text would have sufficed.

There was nothing.

Worry swept through you once more, seated at the same table the two of you met at each and every day, alone.

Should you go to the police? Or campus security? Maybe the dean-

The chair across from you slid away from the table with an awful scraping noise as metal kissed metal and in plopped Riri.

Her hands held a heavy plate, balanced with toast and eggs, bacon and fruit. There was more food than there was Riri to consume it, but she dug in as though she hadn’t tasted food in weeks.

You couldn’t help the look of bewilderment that you were sure posed itself upon your face. There was no way that was really Riri; it had to be a mirage or a hallucination. You must’ve been losing your mind. You had to be.

She finally looked up, eyes wide and mouth full. “You want some?” Riri gestured to the plate sitting in front of her, half its contents already in her stomach.

An ugly scoff crept from the back of your throat and she reeled back, just slightly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Your neck jumped forward, your curls falling from the top of your head as it cocked to the side. “Nigga, are you forreal right now?” your voice was low, words hissing out between your clenched jaw.

Her sculpted brows furrowed at the center, a deep frown taking place on her cheeks. “What’s your problem, ma?”

The anger that boiled within you almost escaped in a growl, teeth barren at the oblivious girl before you. “Riri, where the hell were you last night?”

“What?” she asked through a bacon-stuffed mouth. “I was in my room, baby. I already told you I would be there-”

You almost jumped across the table at her. She gon sit there and lie to your face? That’s what we were doing now?

“Riana Goddamn Williams-”

“Ion like hearing my name come out your mouth like that-”

“I don’t give much of a fuck what you like right now, Riri. It’s taking everything in me to not fuck you up- Where were you?”

“I was in my room-”

“Was you in your room when I came by? Hm? Cuz I couldn’t find you. You invented invisibility or some shit?”

The hand holding toast stopped just short of her lips as your words sank in. “You came by?”

If it were even possible, your face contorted further, anger, no, fucking rage had you vibrating like the phone she didn’t answer. “You didn’t even notice? The can of soup I brought to nurse your lying ass back to health? The key I fucking left? I was there for three fucking hours, Ri-”

Riri’s eyes flashed. “You left your key?”

You ignored her. “The dozens of calls I left you? You ain’ notice none of that shit?”

“Calls?” She dropped the food back onto her plate, hands patting at the pockets on her jeans. “Phone, where’s my phone?”

“Wow,” her actions pulled forth a deep hurt. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Baby, I-”

The deep sound of a throat clearing stole your attention away from each other and to the curly-haired girl standing just short of where you were seated.

Shuri Udaku.

She looked uncomfortable, lips tucked between her teeth, hand held out toward Riri awkwardly. “Um, my bad. I don’t mean to interrupt-” She stumbled over her words, her soft voice barely loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the crowded cafeteria. “Riri, you, uh, left this last night-”

If looks could kill, Riri would be six feet under and then some. The slow turn of your head back in her direction was scorching, your glare burning a hole so deep into her skull, she winced. You watched her carefully retrieve whatever was in the girl’s hand, moving slowly, as if moving too quickly would cause the thing to ignite.

It was her phone, screen cracked. The wallpaper displayed a broken image of you and your lover, one where your lips were locked together, now fractured straight down the center, separating the two of you and confining your still images on separate sides of the screen.

The sound that came from you was drawn from deep, and pooled with pain. Your mouth hung open, stuck in the position as words struggled to come together and form a sentence.

Riri’s hands flew in front of her, as if they could be a shield from your fury. “I-in the garage, right Shuri?” She turned to the Panther, still standing there with a look of pure confusion written across her face.

“W-we was just in the garage, baby-”

No more. You didn’t want to hear anymore. Standing to your feet was an uneasy task, your legs wobbling beneath you, threatening to give out. In a swift motion, your bag was swung over your shoulder and through blurred vision, you let your feet guide you to the exit.

“Y/n-” Riri called out, moving as though she were about to follow you. A large hand rested on her shoulder, holding her back and pulling her away. “Ri, we gotta go-”

A day full of missed classes and tears with ugly cries and snot and sobs that wrecked your body from the inside out.

Two days full of missed calls and so many unread texts that you’d lost count. Your blankets smelled like her, so you slept on the floor in a jacket. Her hoodie, her favorite hoodie laid across your desk chair, untouched. Her shoes sat beside your door, her toothbrush in your bathroom. The very dorm room you couldn’t pull yourself from reminded you so much of the one you didn’t want to remember.

Three days before sadness turned to anger, unadulterated fucking fury. Her favorite hoodie was nothing more than shreds of thick fabric, scissors thrown on the floor beside them. Her shoes drawn all over with your mascara brush, filled with vegetable oil, with awkward holes from the scissors made into their design as well. Her toothbrush had taken a swim in the toilet, then outside across the carpeted hallway before being thrown back into the toilet.

You’d reached that point of grief where sleep was a thing that no longer existed. The clock above your door read just past 3am and you had yet to close your eyes and rest. The shoes beside the door caught your eye again, along with the pieces scattered across the room that you’d cut out of them.

There was always a chance that Riri was awake right now… She’d want her shit back eventually-

You didn’t sit long enough to talk yourself out of the idea, instead gathering all of her now-destroyed belongings into a grocery bag and heading for the door.

The walk from your dorm to hers was instinctual, your footsteps falling into the same pattern they’d taken every night for the past two years. You stood in front of her door, arms by your side, thoughts racing. You’d returned your key, and hadn’t made a copy, and if you knocked, your ‘surprise’ would be ruined.

You started to turn away, doubt beginning to pool your mind. Maybe you should just go-

Something in you told you to just try, to push on the door handle and see if it opened beforeheading home and admitting defeat.

Riri was smarter than that, so you thought. She wasn’t gonna be sitting in her room, this time of night, with the damn door unlocked-

The poor girl had truly been slacking, because the heavy door gave way, creaking quietly as you stepped into the dark space.

Her room was pitch black and undisturbed, so quiet that the sound of you closing it seemed to have echoed.

You looked about the room, eyes searching for Riri. A deep, disgusting feeling settled in the pit of your stomach when you thought that maybe she wasn’t there. Maybe she was with the Princess, laid up in her bed the same way she used to lay in yours-

A low, breathy sigh floated through the air from the bed in the corner of the room and you stared for a moment, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. There, in her bed, was a large figure. It’s chest rose and fell with each silent breath, inhaling and exhaling to its own rhythm.

You were truly tired of being angry, though it truly angered you, seeing her be able to rest so easily, so peacefully, while sleep, or peace, or fucking stillness refused to visit you, leaving you up, sick and anxious over feelings she’d caused-

You hadn’t realized your feet drawing you closer to Riri’s bed until you were nearly beside it. A foot hung over the side of the mattress, but it was large. Too large to be Riri’s, the petite girl only wore a size 7-

The same could be said for the arm that had escaped the blanket. It was thick and- red? The material held a reflection, though there was no light present in the room.

What the hell-?

The thought couldn’t even be completed in your mind. You stepped beside the bed, fully taking in the monster taking your Riri’s place. This was some red riding hood and the wolf disguised as granny shit-

Your eyes traveled slowly, up and around, soaking up every bit of unfamiliarity before you, from the blackened hand with a crucified pit in the palm to the black emblem in the center of the chest, outlining a glowing blue “V”. You squinted, mind racing. You’d seen that crest before, but where?

The further north your vision moved, the harder your heart thumped behind your chest. The scarlet metal continued upward, protecting it’s wearer’s throat, and scalp, leaving an opening across the face where a mask would be-

But there is no mask.

Your hand flies to your mouth to conceal the scream that almost climbs from your bosom. Those eyes, you know those eyes, shaped like almonds, so dark and wise, shut behind the smoothest lids and prettiest lashes.

You knew that nose, the one you glued your lips to so often, just to watch it scrunch up, an accessory to that smile, behind those lips you knew so well. The feel of them, their shape. You could map out every indent, every wrinkle on those precious lips.

It was a hard sight to take in in silence, peering down on Riri’s face as though she lay in a coffin. She was so still, so silent, that had it not been for the rise and fall of her chest, you wouldn’t have been sure she was alive.

Your eyes fell to the symbol on her chest once more, mind trying so hard to place it. You knew that symbol, you knew you knew that symbol, but where-

Images of IronHeart flashed through your mind without permission.

IronHeart, who had a whole YouTube channel dedicated to sightings of her.

IronHeart, who almost always fought alongside The Black Panther- Shuri.

IronHeart, the little white girl who’d gotten a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.

IronHeart, who was your Riri.

You could feel your breath catch in your throat as the pieces fell into place.

You needed to go. You stumbled backwards, steps failing you, hand still drawn over your mouth as bile threatened to make its way up. The room was suddenly too small, the hallway was too small, the damn building was too small.

The air outside was warm, and the gasp you inhaled was quickly followed by a sob that emptied your lungs of the air you’d just blessed them with.

You didn’t know how, but your feet were moving, bringing you back to the solitude of your own room and finally failing you when you reached your door. It would have been a pathetic sight to see, you on all fours, sobbing loudly, face drenched as you crawled through your front door and shut it again behind you.

Your back slammed against the heavy oak, your knees bending until your thighs met your chest. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were ugly, the tears bulbous.

My God, My God. She had been lying to you. For months, for years, maybe longer? You weren’t worthy enough to share her secret, not trusted enough to know her identity, to take part in her double life.

There were too many fucking thoughts and it was too fucking late at night, and the tears in your eyes and exhaustion in your muscles did nothing to keep you awake long enough to battle those feelings. Sleep took you under, quickly and stealthily, not even giving you a chance to make it to the bed first.

And yet, somehow, you awoke in your bed, the blanket drawn to your chin and the smell of Riri embedded in it bringing you a slight comfort.

Then memories of the night came flooding back and though your body begged you to do nothing more than remain horizontal, your mind shot you straight up. The room was bright, the sun already raised high in the sky and you couldn’t fathom what time of day it must’ve been.

What was left of the heart beating in your chest was already aching. It nearly beat right out of your body when a voice sounded off from across the room.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was low, deeper than usual, and coated in anything but pleasantries. Riri sat at your desk, dressed in all black, her signature gold chain adorning her neck, and her straight-back cornrows collected into a bun at her nape.

So many emotions ran through you at once. Fear and desire, but the one that stood out, the one that had been most prominent these days, was rage.

And it showed. Riri saw it immediately in your face, with the way your brows drew together and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. Your nose scrunched and your glare burned.

She could hear it in your words, your vocal cords tight, your voice sounding unlike yourself. “Get out-”

Riri’s sigh drew another emotion forth from you: annoyance. “When somebody says ‘good morning’, you’d typically say it back-”

Your feet hit the floor with a thud, and your restraint was a God-given thing. “Get out my room, Riri-”

The small girl stood as well, hands deep in her pockets. “Nah.”

An insincere chuckle escaped your lips, masking the disbelief that jumped out of you. “Nah? Fuck you mean ‘nah’, nigga-”

The space separating the two of you was barely a few feet and Riri closed it in no time. “Sit down, y/n-”

“I don’t take orders from you no more, Riri-”

“Sit down!” Her voice never changed octaves, but the firmness in her tone left no room for argument. You didn’t want to turn your back to her to climb back upon your lofted bed, instead trying (and failing) to hop on backwards.

Riri couldn’t sit and watch you struggle; her hands fell into place at your hips like they had so many times before and you pushed them off quickly, trying to remove them as if they burned. “Get your hands off-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Riri had you in the air and seated on your mattress. “Just accept the help, damn.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two of you, you upon the bed, arms crossed, and Riri, pacing the room, hands rubbing the back of her neck.

“You know; I know you know.”

“Know what?”

Riri pauses her stride long enough to look at you with a sad smile. “C’mon, baby, you ain’t never been stupid.”

The tears that collect behind your eyes are traitors and you tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling and willing them back from which they came. “Yeah, Ri. I know.”

“You came by last night?”

“I came by last night.”

“Destroyed my shit?”

“You deserved it.”

When you brought your vision back on the girl standing across from you, the tears finally betrayed you. They ran over your lids silently, no sobs this time, no snot.

Riri could only stare back, tears of her own threatening to swell and run over.

“So you the little white girl with daddy’s money?”

Your words caught Ri off guard, an gross-sounding snort came from the back of her throat before the tears finally spilled and her hands flew to her face to catch them. “You know ain’ nothing in that statement true-”

“But you let me say it. You let me sit here looking stupid while you knew what was true and I didn’t-”

“How was I supposed to tell you, baby?”

“How bout, ‘Y/n, I’m IronHeart?’”

Silence took place between the two of you for a moment before Riri cleared her throat.

“Y/n, I’m Ironheart.” Riri’s voice trailed off and her hands flew to her face, catching the assortment of pillows you’d just chucked at her in retaliation.

“Nigga, you not fucking funny!”

“You right, you right, ma. My bad.” Riri tossed the pillows to the floor, taking baby steps forward, until the space between you was closed and your body was trapped by her forearms sinking into the mattress on either side of you and her head falling into your lap.

You couldn’t help the hand that rose in response or the gentleness with which your fingers traced the parts between her braids. “How long?”

“How long-?” Riri trailed off, not understanding the half-asked question you were presenting her with.

“How long you been a fucking superhero, Ri?”

Her head sunk further into your thighs, as if she were trying to hide and you knew you wouldn’t like the answer.

“Only ‘bout six months-”

“Six months,” you repeated.

Mhm, she hummed back. “Six months. Had the suit built for a while, just to see if I could build it, but it was nothing like the one I got now-”

“Where that one come from? Your Princess get it for you?”

Her head rose quickly, furrowed gaze falling in line with yours. “My what? Shuri?”

Had your eyes rolled any harder, they would have rolled right out your head.

Riri’s shook back and forth, her chain swaying in response. “Nah, ma. I ain’ never step out on you; you know it ain’ even like that. Shuri’s my nigga.” She stood just a bit straighter, bringing your faces together and resting her forehead on yours. “You my Princess.”

The anger that still resided within you told you to just push her away.

But you didn’t. You let your eyes close and a sweet sigh escape your lips. “But you been lying to me.”

“I have-”

“For six months-”

“A secret identity a secret for a reason, baby-”

“But Shuri knew-”

Riri was standing at her full height, though it was still just a tab bit shorter than you. “Stop, baby, that ain’ the same thing! Shuri got this shit running through her veins; she can protect herself and her own if somebody pose a threat. She got a whole goddamn army behind her, y/n!”

“So-”

The way her eyebrow jumped to the top of her face, the way her eyes darkened and her scowl deepened, told you to shut the fuck up.

“Nah, y/n, lemme finish” her words were accentuated with a growl. “I’m new to this, baby, like hella new. All I got is a suit and a big brain. I couldn’t save myself when my vibranium detector got my ass into trouble; how the hell am I supposed to save you?”

For the first time in your life, you sat silent.

“Iron Man could afford to make his identity known; so can Shuri, and so could her brother. I can’t, baby, not yet. I got something to lose-”

“You don’t got to announce it to the world, Riri, but you could’ve told me!”

“I couldn’t at the time, baby.” Her words are softer, her voice much softer. You feel her hands grab at your waist, pulling you close and holding tight, as if you’d disappear if she were to let go. “You don’t know how to not be in control-”

“Bitch-”

The small chuckle Riri releases makes your toes curl, just slightly. “Lemme finish, ma. You don’t know how to not be in control, and if your little ass saw I was in any sort of trouble, you’d rush in to play ‘Captain Save-the-Day’.”

You couldn’t help the pout that played at your lips. She was right, but she ain’ had to say all that. “So?”

“So?” Riri gripped at your skin harder, her fingers sinking into the suppleness of your curves. “Y/n, baby, you got the big brain, but you don’t got the suit. Don’t got the army, don’t got this shit running in your blood.” Her voice gets tight again, her eyes locked in on yours. “I need you to hear me, y/n, forreal, when I say this shit, okay?”

She doesn’t get a response from you and frustration is fueling her movements. Her hand flies to your chin, gripping it hard and pulling your gaze firmly onto hers. “I need you to listen, y/n. You listening, baby?”

“I’m listening-”

“I don’t need you to save me. Ion need you running in after me, or nothing-”

“Ri-”

Her fingers are pressing into your side hard enough to leave indents now, and her hand has shifted from your chin to your cheeks as she sinks her thumb and index finger into either side. “Listen.” Riri’s voice is full of venom, emphasizing the seriousness of which you know she’s speaking. Your lips press together and all you can do in response is nod.

“I do not need you trying to save me,” each syllable is emphasized through her clenched teeth. “I got this-let me save the world, and you, okay?”

“What am I supposed to do, Ri? Watch you get beat around, wait for you to come back to me all bruised and battered?” your eyes travel to the remnants of the scar that snakes along her face.

“Be my number one fan?” Riri’s voice rises with a slight tease. “Cheer me on, baby.”

“Go, Ri, go!” sarcasm is dripping through your cheer, but the smile on your face is genuine and it pulls forth an equally sincere one on Riri’s face.

Riri’s lips roll back, getting trapped between her pretty teeth, her smile threatening to break through wider.

Hmm, she hums, eyes scanning your face. “I think I like how that sounds.”

#riri x reader #black panther #riri williams x reader #shuriri #dominique thorne #ironheart #quintessence writes #quintessencewrites

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kamaluhkhan · 10 months

Text

maybe it's my fault

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: lately, you've been feeling a ton of pressure, you're way too busy, and you're barely sleeping. life is taking its toll on you, but you drop everything to be with shuri when she needs you most.

warnings: angst! mention of illness and death (t'challa's, mostly). reader has a bit of a saviour complex. lots of plot w/ a little smut ;)

author's note: hi hi it's been too long since i've written a fic, but i just rewatched black panther so i decided to finish one of my drafts. this could be read as a part 3 to my other shuri fics, but it's wayyy more angsty than i usually write. also happy endings.....we don't know her! you've been warned.

you were in the kitchen, chopping up fruit for a smoothie, while sam and bucky were watching the news in the living room. you could only hear muffled sounds from the tv thanks to the lecture you were rewatching through your earphones, hyperfocused on absorbing as much information about genetic coding — the topic of your last exam before spring break — so it was easy to miss sam calling your name until he was practically shouting. you finally removed one earbud.

"yeah?"

“when's the last time you heard from your girlfriend?"

"i don't know," you answered, still mostly focused on your professor droning on about complex protein structures while you kept cutting up strawberries — and tried to keep your eyes open. you probably hadn't slept in 36 hours. "we've both been busy. why?"

there was no immediate answer, which you didn’t think much of until you looked up and saw what they were watching. in shock, you accidently let the knife slip, and it nicked your thumb instead of the fruit.

"fuck."

blood dripped from your hand, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen.

KING T’CHALLA, RULER OF WAKANDA, DEAD FROM UNKNOWN ILLNESS. COUNTRY IN PERIOD OF MOURNING.

you could tell from the way bucky and sam were silent that they were also overwhelmed with the news. t’challa was an avenger, a teammate — but he was also a friend. he was compassionate and wise and always made you feel welcomed, even when some of the elders disapproved of shuri dating an outsider. this hurt you, deeply, especially after losing so much of the team in the battle with thanos. but none of that mattered — all you could think about now was shuri….

you instantly pulled out your phone, and tried to call her.

it’s shuri. i’m probably designing better technology, so i’ll call you back with that.

you then tried the kimoyo beads on your wrist, but still no answer.

“i have to go.”

sam nodded. “just let me look after your hand first —”

“i’ll deal with it on the quinjet.” you ran to your room down the hall, and grabbed your overnight bag (thank Gods you hadn’t unpacked yet, even though you’d decided to stay over at Avengers tower this week). “i just finished fixing up the old one, so i’ll take that and you guys can still use the new one for your mission tomorrow. if i leave now, i’ll get to wakanda by morning.” or maybe midnight. or afternoon? there was also a time difference that you couldn’t quite remember. “i’ll call peter on the way, let him know what happened. can you tell the others?” whoever is left, you thought to yourself.

again, sam nodded. bucky mumbled a simple take care as you start to leave for the quinjet.

sam called your name, so you turned around before a few tears could escape. he brought you into a hug. you couldn’t help but stiffen, a reflex because of so many i’m sorry for your loss hugs you’d gotten used to. when sam pulled away, he put his hand on her shoulder, eyes sincere but sad. “it’s gonna be alright, kid.”

you really wanted to believe him.

shuri’s lab was all too familiar to you. there was something perpetually alive about the space: always people talking, inventions being brought to life, loud music blasting.

but, right now, it was silent. only shuri was there, designing something on the holograms and taking notes.

you hear her A.I. griot announce that someone had arrived, but shuri doesn't seem to care.

“i told you i did not want to be disturbed,” shuri grumbled.

“he made an exception,” you replied, trying to keep your tone playful.

shuri didn’t say anything and kept working. “did my mother call you?” she finally asked. “i told her not to.”

you moved closer to shuri’s workspace until you were right next to her, leaning backwards against the desk but keeping your eyes on shuri and trying to pull her attention away from whatever she was working on — a suit, you guessed.

“she didn't call me. i came as soon as i heard,” you answered, crossing you arms. “but i did talk to her and she seemed…worried.”

“there’s no need to be,” shuri said. “i’m fine. we had the funeral — it happened, it’s over.”

you uncrossed your arms, sighing deeply. “you know, your brother once told me that in wakandan culture, death isn’t the end. it’s a stepping off point. then, he told me that he believed, even if they’re gone from the physical world, the people we love never leave us. their lives aren’t over if we honor them, keep loving them.”

t'challa's thoughtfulness helped you after losing tony and steve, and it was something you wished you had heard earlier in life. something that gave you hope, made you feel a bit lighter when it felt like the weight of the world was crushing you.

but, hearing this prompted shuri to freeze momentarily, though she couldn’t bring herself to look you in the eye.

"i am not my brother.” she went back to working after that.

for a moment, you simply watched your girlfriend work. shuri’s hair was different — braids gone and shorter than the last time you had seen her. her jawline was also sharper and her eyes a bit more sunken, like she hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

when it became clear that shuri wasn’t going to stop, you turned around and focused your attention to the holograms she was juggling. it wasn’t a panther suit, but what looked like a deconstructed dora milaje armor that shuri was redesigning.

“you want this to fly?” you noted the thrusters placed on the feet of the suit.

shuri glanced at you briefly before enlarging the section in question. “yes.”

you hummed, reaching over to zoom out to a full view of the suit. “if you add small repulsors, the wearer will have more control over how and where they fly.”

“i was going to add something like that to the back.”

“i’d suggest the shoulders,” you said, tilting your head. “small, triangle shaped — kind of like angel wings. also, if you add reinforced plating to the shoulders and arms, you can redistribute the extra vibranium through the repulsor energy so the wearer can materialize a blade or a laser.”

“brilliant,” shuri mumbled under her breath.

you nudged shuri with your shoulder. “you would have figured it out eventually.”

“i know.” shuri leaned into you, a sign that she was softening. “that’s why it’s brilliant. i wish it'd thought of it sooner." she whispered the last part. there was a faraway sadness to her tone that made your heart ache.

you turned to face shuri, and gently put your hand on her cheek so she met your gaze.

"i think it's a sign that your beautiful brain needs some rest, baby." you knew what shuri was like, and based on your conversation with queen ramonda, shuri had locked herself in the lab for days.

shuri sighed, moving to kiss your palm before realizing the state it was in — freshly wrapped in a thin layer of gauze that you had bled through.

“what happened to your hand?” she questioned urgently.

“oh. nothing serious. just a slip of the knife.”

wordlessly, shuri brought you over to the medical bay and gestured for you to sit down on the table. you did, and shuri settled between your legs, using vibranium to heal your cut.

"shuri," you called after a few moments of silence, leaning your head down slightly to try and catch her eye. "you know i'm here for you, right?"

"i know." she finished cleaning the wound and wrapped your hand in a fresh vibranium-woven bandage. you wanted so badly to do the same — to wrap up shuri's grief, to protect her from pain, to help her heal.

"i mean that you don't have to, i don't know, act like everything is fine. we can talk about what happened — we can talk about t'challa."

"i know," she repeated, eyes finally meeting yours as she rested her hand on your knee. "i just....i can't. it's either i shut myself in the lab for hours or i think about my brother and want to burn the world down. and i can't...." shuri choked back a sob and her grip on your knee tightened.

you brought your hand up to her cheek, gently tracing the dark circles under her eyes with your thumb.

"well, what if we try another option?"

you spent the next few days in wakanda with shuri, ignoring your responsibilities in new york. most of the time was spent lazing around the royal palace, but with you shuri at least got enough sleep and food, even if you barely left her room at first. eventually, the two of you actually ate in the formal dining room. you could have sworn queen ramonda teared up when her daughter showed up again to share a meal since t'challa's passing. queen ramonda gave you a warm smile before the feast was served.

as you were walking back to shuri's room, stomachs full from a delicious dinner, your phone vibrated. you checked to see who it was: peter, texting to remind you of a lab assignment you had slipped your mind.

"oh shit," you groaned.

"what is it?"

"an assignment for my genetics class that i completely forgot about," you explained, rushing to open your laptop, which you'd left on shuri's nightstand after the two of you binged a few episodes of star trek (the original series). "one of our lab partners fucked up the results, so pete and i had to sort things out, but we've both been so busy...."

your phone vibrated once more, this time displaying an incoming call from jimmy neutron, your affectionate contact name for peter parker.

"i should take this."

shuri nodded. "let me help, yeah?"

considering how brilliant shuri was, you offered her your laptop without question. you paced back and forth, talking with peter over whether or not failing this assignment would mean you both failed the class, until shuri's voice cut through your conversation.

"why do you have a file with my brother's dna?"

you know exactly the file she was talking about, and it made you stop in your tracks to face shuri. you thought you were being too careful when you didn't attach his name to the file — but, apparently, you weren't careful enough.

shuri was sitting upright on the bed now, practically glaring at you as she waited for your answer. you tried to ignore your increasing heart-rate.

"pete, i have to go." you could hear him start to protest on the other end of the line, but you quickly ended the call. "well, we keep blood samples from every team member in case something happens."

hopefully your answer satisfied shuri.

it didn't.

"this isn't with your avengers files, though," shuri pointed out. you tried to grab the laptop back from her, but she moved it out of your reach. "and even if it was, you would have noticed something wrong."

"shuri," you warned, finding it harder to not let your voice waver.

"did you know my brother was sick?" her tone was harsher than before.

"shuri —"

"the samples show abnormal cell growth at an earlier stage than when i was working on a cure for him," shuri noted, turning the laptop screen towards you. like you, she must have spent hours looking at t'challa's dna to the point of memorizing its sequence. "so either you didn't notice that something was wrong, and we both know you're too smart enough to miss something that obvious, or — "

"shuri." this time, when you said her name, it was less of a warning and more of a plea. you did not want to go down this road. frankly, you were hoping you never had to.

"you knew my brother was sick and didn't tell me," she finished. shuri handed you the laptop and you closed it slowly, watching as she walked to the other side of the room before facing you again. "tell me that isn't true."

all you could do was bite back tears and hope the floor swallowed you whole. when it didn't, you took a deep breath and stood up.

"i can explain." you approached her, but she took a step away from you and scoffed.

"what's there to explain?"

"just....please." you walked back to the bed and took a seat. "let me explain."

t'challa intercepted you at your favourite coffee shop about four weeks ago.

it was march in new york, so hints of spring were starting to peak through the winter snow. you had back to back classes, but you always had time for a coffee in between.

the cold air hit you as you exited the shop, a drink warming your hand. you noticed him standing there: no dora milaje, no fancy suit, just t'challa. he wore sunglasses and a sleek black trench coat with a purple scarf, his silver necklace peaking out from the collar.

"t'challa?" you called, almost doing a double take. the two of you were friends, sure, and probably future in-laws, but the image of him waiting for you outside a student-run cafe felt too out of the ordinary. "is everything okay?"

he smiled softly, taking off his sunglasses. "of course," he said. then, t'challa did something that surprised you even more: he greeted you with a hug. as he pulled away, he added: "just in town and thought we could catch up. shuri said this was your favourite place for cinnamon lattes."

you shrugged. "my girl knows me well. could we catch up later, though? i have a class in...." you glanced at your phone. "right now, actually." you looked back up at t'challa, and something about how his smile faded away made you feel like this was more important. "you know what, i can get notes later. come on."

t'challa followed you to a bench nearby, scanning the area as you made the short walk. the two of you sat in silence for a few moments before you broke it.

"so, is everything okay?" you asked again, taking a sip of your drink.

"actually, no." he paused, voice low. you waited for him to continue, your heart beating fast as you tried not to expect the worst. "i'm sick, y/n."

"you're sick," you repeated slowly, letting the words sink in. "i'm....i'm sorry." you reached over and squeezed t'challa's hand. he gave you a sad smile in return. that was the thing about t'challa: he was always trying to put on a brave face.

"i need you to help me find a cure."

"of course," you answered instantly. you loved t'challa like he was family; you would do anything for him. but, something felt a bit strange about his request. "why not go to wakanda, though? i mean, i'd be happy to help, but the technology there is way more advanced than anything i could do in new york. shuri's lab has all the resources we would need."

t'challa shifted in his seat, breaking eye contact.

then, it hit you. the impromptu meeting, the uneasiness of t'challa's demeanor, the whispers as he explained the situation.

"she doesn't know, does she?"

t'challa shook his head. "she doesn't even know i'm in new york."

suddenly, you throat tightened and it felt difficult to swallow your coffee.

"am i the only one that knows?"

"you and nakia," he said. "i'd like for it to stay that way."

"but — but it's shuri. you're her brother and — and she can help us find a cure."

"so can you," t'challa countered. compared to your nervous stuttering, he kept his voice clear, measured. "you're studying biochemistry and cellular biology, correct? top of your class? my sister says you are almost as brilliant as her."

"almost," you laughed, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve before returning to your conversation. "t'challa, why not just tell her?"

t'challa reflected before responding, his eyes following a couple holding hand as they walked past you.

"my sister is happy," he finally said, turning to you. "i wish for her to stay like that for as long as possible. i believe this is the only way."

it broke your heart to know that, even as he was suffering, t'challa would do anything to protect shuri. you both knew what shuri was like: she would drop everything, go back to wakanda, spend many sleepless nights trying to solve this problem, to save her brother.

"are you sure?" you practically whispered the question.

"yes. i trust you can take care of this. in fact, i know you can. please, y/n."

his urgent tone, the sincerity in his eyes; t'challa was desperate, you could tell. this wasn't a decision he made lightly, to keep such information from everyone, including shuri. if you were the one he came to for help, help you would.

so, you promised keep his secret, to handle it yourself and carry on as normal. t'challa would return to his normal duties as king for as long as he could hide his illness. but, you set a term as well: if you couldn't find a cure within two weeks, when shuri went back to visit wakanda at the end of the month, t'challa would tell her and let her work to find a cure.

"one more thing," t'challa said after you had discussed your agreement. you were about to part ways, but you turned around when you heard him speak again. "shuri can never know that i came to you first. she's proud, my sister. if she finds out, she'd never forgive either of us."

you nodded firmly, but as t'challa turned to walk away, you called his name once more. you ran towards him and hugged him, tight. it startled him at first, just as you were when he greeted you, but he hugged back.

if you knew that was the last time you'd see him, you'd have held on longer.

over the next week or so, you worked relentlessly. you would've worked at the lab in avengers tower, but you knew you had more privacy at oscorp. occasionally, you went to class or had avengers business to take care of, but otherwise this was your life: rearranging dna sequences, examining blood samples, and mixing chemicals to try and find a cure for t'challa.

you came home one night, after hours in the lab. your only break was a brief stint stopping doc ock from robbing a bank. she'd managed to throw you around pretty hard — sleep deprivation made you an easier target, apparently — leaving you with a nasty bruise on your side. peter arrived to the scene just in time, and suggested the two of you celebrate with sandwiches as delmar's (where spider-man got a discount), but you made up an excuse so that you could return to the lab.

the apartment was dark when you entered, with only the kitchen light on, so you figured you were the only one home. you dragged yourself over to the sink to get a cup of water. you drank it in three gulps, and were reaching for another when you felt someone grab your side.

"fuck!" the cup fell from your grasp as you winced in pain. you turned around, too tired to even wonder if there was an intruder in your home, but met shuri's gaze instead. she was wearing boxer shorts and an oversized i ♡ wakanda shirt she'd gotten for you as a joke.

"shit. sorry." she knelt down to pick up the broken glass. you tried to follow, but winced again at the sharp pain in your side that prevented you from bending over. "don't worry. i've got it," she reassured, standing back up. "you've been busy lately. and pete told me about the fight with doc ock. you should rest."

you ignored her last comment. "i thought you were coming home late tonight."

shuri raised an eyebrow. "i'd say it's well past late." she gestured towards the clock on the stove. it read 2:27 am.

"right." between hours in the lab, with no cure in sight, and being thrown around by a scientist with metal tentacles, you were exhausted. it was the kind of exhaustion that settled into your bones, made everything feel heavier. not to mention the weight of the very big, life changing secret you were keeping from shuri....yeah, you weren't particularly in the mood to chat with your girlfriend in a dimly lit kitchen with broken glass at your feet.

before shuri could ask more about your day, you excused yourself to take a shower. you closed the bathroom door behind you, stripped yourself of your clothes, and hopped in the shower. you stood there for a few seconds, letting the warm water wash over you, until you were startled by the shower curtain opening.

"sithandwa, are you okay?"

"other than the minor heart attack you just gave me, yeah," you huffed.

shuri tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "are you sure?"

"i'm fine," you snapped. noticing how shuri's eyes widened slightly at your outburst, you tried again, your voice softer. "i'm fine."

you lifted your arm to close the shower curtain, but let out a strangled moan when the sharp pain in your side returned. shuri furrowed her brow at your reaction, until her eyes landed on the dark bruise forming under your left ribs. instantly, shuri joined you in the shower, fully clothed.

"you're not fine," shuri decided, placing her hand gently on your skin. "why didn't you go back to the med bay to have this taken care of?"

peter asked you the same thing when you parted ways earlier, but it was easier then to shrug off the severity of your injury. besides, you had to finish up some work at the lab. but here you were in front of shuri, completely exposed, no where to run.

"i...didn't have time. you can scold me later, okay? right now, i just want to relax."

you exhaled as shuri's fingers grazed your skin. with how preoccupied you had been — along with the guilt at hiding t'challa's illness from her — you and shuri hadn't been intimate in what felt like forever. it felt good to be close to her, for her to touch you again.

by then, shuri's clothes were soaked through, the white fabric of her shirt clinging to her skin, transparent enough to reveal her dark nipples underneath. you couldn't help but stare.

"like what you see?" shuri smirked. her fingers started trailing south, reaching your hips.

this made you roll your eyes, and you just had to smile at how cheeky your girlfriend was being.

"you know i do, pretty girl."

"hm. you said you wanted to relax?"

you nodded, and not even a second later shuri had her body pressed against yours. it sent a shiver through you, despite the warm water from the shower. she brought a tattoed hand up to your face, craddling your jaw.

"then relax," shuri whispered. she started placing kisses up your neck, and when she reached just below your ear, she added: "let me take care of you."

shuri gently pushed you against the wall, the ceramic tiles cool on your back. to your annoyance, she took her sweet time leaving kisses down your body.

"shuri," you whined when you felt her teeth graze one nipple while she pinched the other between her fingers.

"what is it, my love?" shuri pulled away from your chest. you knew she loved teasing you - something you mostly loved to hate. sex with shuri sometimes took hours: it was slow, deliberate, accompanied by an orchestra of laughter and moans and pleading (lots of pleading).

this time, though, she didn't even give you time to beg. shuri simply got on her knees in front of you. she briefly ran her tongue through your folds before tilting her head back to meet your gaze. "is this what you wanted?" shuri smirked when you moaned as she slid a finger into your cunt.

the shower went cold by the time you two were done.

you started drying off, carefully as to not further your injury. shuri left to put on fresh, dry clothes, leaving the ones she had soaked through in a wet heap on the floor. you were just slipping on your underwear when shuri returned, catching your eye in the mirror.

"what?" you chuckled at how coy she was being, hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"i have a surprise for you," shuri sang. she moved from the doorway to standing behind you, the two of you looking at the mirror. "close your eyes." you complied and felt a coolness surround your neck. shuri placed a kiss on your jaw, which made you smile. "open them."

you were met with the sight of yourself, top half completely bare except for a deep purple pendant around your neck.

"do you like it?" shuri gently wrapped her arms around your waist, eyes never leaving your body in the mirror, and you allowed yourself to melt into her. "it reminded me of the sky on our first date, and how beautiful you looked." she reached a hand up to trace the silver chain. "i was thinking i'd remake this with vibranium, maybe make it so the necklace holds your suit like t'challa's. you'll have to wait until i get back to wakanda to make the upgrade, of course."

at the mention of her brother and her home country, you stiffened.

"shuri." you exhaled and you turned to face her. "are you sure that you don't want to go back to wakanda sooner?"

shuri tilted her head. "why would i do that?"

"i don't know. more time with your family...."

"i've spent my whole life with them," shuri countered. "i'm moving to new york so that we can start our life together."

"i didn't ask you to do that — "

"don't push me away, okay?" she interrupted, wrapping her arms around your waist once more as though they would keep you in place forever. "you've been doing that lately, and i know you're busy, we both are. but, life is crazy and scary and unpredictable, and all i know for sure is that i love you. and i need you."

you wished you could return her words, as you have many times before, but the sentiment now felt empty.

it felt wrong for you to let shuri love you passionately, when you were being so careless with her heart.

you tried to shake away that feeling, telling yourself that keeping t'challa's secret was the best situation to keep him healthy and shuri happy - to protect both of them from any pain or suffering.

you told yourself that enough times, you almost believed it was true.

shuri looked at you now, and for the first time, you felt the heat of her anger targeted towards you.

"how long? how long did you know my brother was dying and let me believe everything was okay? how long did you lie to me?"

you took a ragged breath. "two weeks."

"two weeks?" shuri shouted. "i couldn't save him because i didn't have enough time to find a cure. you took that from me."

"i spent that time trying to find a cure, but....but i wanted to protect you, at least for a little while."

"no one asked you to protect me!"

internally, you kept replaying what t'challa had said: he wanted shuri to be happy, yes, but she could never know that he came to you himself and told you he was sick weeks before he told her. you wanted to honor the promise you made him, even as you now felt shuri slipping through your fingers.

you were never a quitter, though. it was your best — and possibly most self-destructive — trait. you tried to approach shuri, to grab her hand, but the second you made contact, she jolted away.

"my brother is dead because of you."

her words felt like a knife. you felt dizzy — there was no way to stop the bleeding, so you sat back down on the bed to ground yourself.

"i....i tried to save him," you defended. "after i first found out, i tried to find a cure myself."

shuri scoffed, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes at you. "you just had to be the hero, didn't you? running around, wanting to save everyone. like you're the only one who can."

"i really tried," you choked. by now, you were holding back tears, feeling your head start to ache. you started massaging you temple to relieve some pressure, but it didn't work.

"and what kind of sick game are you playing, coming here pretending to be supportive? you're just feeling guilty."

guilty was definitely something you felt, but it wasn't why you came here.

you got back up and tried to approach shuri one more time, walking over to her slowly.

"i came here because i love you, shuri." your voice was softer than it had been before. "i loved t'challa, too -"

"don't you dare say his name," she growled, once again moving away from you briskly. "and i don't care if you love me, because i can never look at you the same way. we're done."

hands by your side, staring at shuri from the opposite side of the room, you almost couldn't process what she had said. she repeated her last sentence, this time a bit louder, and you shook your head as though to wake yourself up.

"shuri, please, don't do this. we're both in pain — "

"you have no idea the pain i'm in," shuri interrupted, and you noticed how she choked back a sob. "you can stop trying to be a hero for me. i don't want you. i don't need you." she paused. "not anymore."

to prove her point, shuri finally approached you. she tugged your necklace — the one she had so lovingly given you — hard enough for the clasp to break.

both of you were startled by the severity of her actions, how final it all felt. shuri looked, almost regretfully, at the purple pendant in her hand, but never met your gaze. she then turned away from you, the room settling into an uncomfortable silence as she waited for you to leave.

and you did, a few moments later.

#shuri x reader #shuri udaku #shuri x you #shuri imagine #shuri angst #black panther wakanda forever #wakanda forever #shuri fic #shuri smut #princess shuri #shuri #Spotify #saf writes #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther #marvel fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #shuri fanfiction

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desswright29 · 8 months

Text

Calm Before The Storm

Pairing: Shuri Udaku/ Reader/ Riri Williams

Contains: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: There are easter eggs all over this chapter. If you don’t read this one you’re probably gonna be hella lost for the rest of the story lol. Enjoy!

Taglist: @imjusthere2readbruv,@bubbleblowinggirl, @euph0ricx0,@bellaallebbella1, @minionslikeppl, @melanated-queen, @letitiasnyash, @tishlvr, @writtenbymarie, @doramilaj233, @lichuchin, @6-noir, @jackdrawsjunk

Shuri stood at the office door rebuttoning her shirt. Riri watched her distraught, eyes glassed over “Wow Shuri. What the fuck.” The pain was apparent in her voice. Shuri rubbed a hand down her face making her way over to her. “Don’t do that Ri. What would you have had me do?” Riri scoffed. “Well first I would’ve had you at the very least close the door, but not fucking her at all would’ve sufficed.” She says clearly pissed. “Ri, we’re not in a relationship. She’s my wife. And I mean…“ Shuri’s eyebrows raised and she licked her bottom lip followed by a seductive bite. “You saw her.” Riri snorted. “You gotta be fucking kidding me Shuri! If she’s so fucking amaaaaazing why am I here!” Eyes began to look in their direction. Figuring they were about to get yet another show.

“MIND YOUR BUSINESS! Get back to Work!!” Shuri yells, and everyone scatters. She focus’s her attention back to Riri “First off lower your voice. And this thing we have wasn’t what I was aiming for Ri! I love my wife. Why do you think I haven’t had sex with you again? It was never supposed to get here. My minds all fucked up. I enjoy your company. I do. But this is complicated. Me and Y/n’s relationship was just strained after….After the-the baby situation, she shut me out for awhile… and then I lost T’Challa, the war with Talokan and loosing my mother *frustrated sigh* We just never got the chance to really talk and heal, and I-I’m confused Riri. From the moment I laid eyes on you things felt different. I was impressed with you before meeting you, but after, you made one hell of an impression on me. You were a breath of fresh air, and I thought it was what I needed; something new. But I’d neglected my wife out of frustration, with things neither of us could control. And I’m realizing I made a stupid mistake. She’s been through alot with me.” Riri drops the welder and walks over to Shuri. “And I’ve fought a war with you!”

“And she was there for the battles Ri! I would’ve never placed her in the position to fight a war. She is my Queen.” Riri’s eyes grew big and mouth fell open as a tear fell. Shuri had said it without wavering. She didn’t blink, nor did she stutter. “You had to have known this was a possibility. You knew I was married.” She’d meant what she’d said. She loved her wife. “So that’s all it takes. You just need to be fucked good and suddenly it’s all clear for you again?” Riri approached Shuri, pushing her down onto a nearby chair. Riri straddled Shuri’s thigh. “You need to hear what my moans sound like again? Want me to make you scream my name this time.” She starts to move. “Hm?”

“Ri” Shuri Whispered, as she looked around making sure there wasn’t any eyes on them. Riri moaned Shuri’s name in response as she ground her hips harder onto Shuri. Shuri grabbed Riri’s hips stopping her. “Stop it Ri. Don’t embarrass yourself.” Riri let out a shocked gasp. “EMBARRASS MYSE-!” Shuri held up her hand to silence her. “I’m going to head home. I just need a moment to myself to think.” Shuri lifted Riri off of her lap and stood. Giving her a peck on the forehead. She walked away leaving Riri holding back tears.

“YOU DID WHAT!!” Tolu yelled, eyes as big as saucers. “I fucked her in the office with the door open, so that bitch could hear! And anybody else that was thinking about it. I feel damn good too! You should’ve saw the look on her face. Oh! And Shuri *more laughter* when she saw the door was opened the whole time, you could’ve knocked her over with a feather!” You laughed, you felt like you were floating. Liberated and unbothered. You did what needed to be done and there was not an ounce of regret in you. After leaving the lab you called Tolu and made plans for lunch, gone home to freshen up and changed into a slightly less sexy sundress. Still worthy of turning heads. You were feeling unstoppable and didn’t plan to take your foot off the people’s neck anytime soon. Leaving your kimoyo beads at home, you headed out with your girl. “You are insane!” Tolu laughed. The both of you were in the middle of a privately catered lunch in Tolu’s waterfront Villa.

“Girl, you know I don’t play games about my Shuri. Me and Shuri may have been going through some things but the audacity of her to think she was going to swoop in and save the day in MY palace! Ndicela! (Please)” Tolu shook her head and smiling. “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about!” Suddenly her face changed a bit more somber. “So…Do you think that she was completely unfaithful to you?” Sighing you shrugged. “I try not to think about it. If she had. Can I really fault her? We’ve lost so much. And gained so much reponsibility all at once. I checked out after T’Challa and the whole pregnancy debacle. Neither of us signed up for all of this. But, I left her hanging in the middle of it all.”

“You were hurting too.”

“She lost her family.”

“You found out you couldn’t conceive a child. You’d lost hope of having children. That was something you both spoke of often when we were younger. That’s hard to come to terms with.”

“We lost OUR hope of having children. We didn’t even get to process it before T’Challa was gone. We were slowly getting back on track and even began treatments for me and started trying again before the war. But, we still weren’t the same. And then Queen mother was gone.” An involuntary tear fell from your eye as you continued. “I know what I did today was extreme but, I had to do something Tolu! This girl comes in and they have so much in common. Shuri’s spending less time at home, Riri even made her smile again. I’m sure she can have babies and do Shuri’s invention some justice, since Shuri can’t carry due to her duties as Black Panther. It’s all I could think about. Our home had this dark cloud over it you know. I felt like a useless infertile, out of practice herbalist that was a waste of space, and I couldn’t help but think Shuri felt the same.” Tolu reached across the table grabbing your hands in hers.

“Oh y/n. That’s the stupidest shit you’ve ever said. Neither of you had experienced grief before. And to experience it so heavily and so repetitively, at that extent for the first time would be difficult for anyone! You didn’t know what to do or how to be there for eachother. And both of you handled things in some unhealthy ways. But you and Shuri have a love people would kill for. Don’t let any situation, or any person take it away from you.” You sniff, wipe away a tear, and smile “I’ll be damned.” Tolu returned your smile. “That’s my girl!! Don’t let up off that hoe!” You both laugh over the somber mood. “Let’s finish eating and go SHOPPING!!”

Today was a great day. You and Tolu stayed out shopping and enjoying the city all day, until sunset. Now, you walked through the halls of the palace a smile set on your face, you feeling more optimistic than you’d felt in a long time. Now with an extra sway in your hips you were ready to get to the comfort of your home, and most importantly to your wife. “Y/n!” You hear a voice shout behind you. Stopped in your tracks your smile drops as you slowly bite the insides of your cheeks. When you turn around you’re met with none other than Riri walking out of her room towards you. Her face filled with determination. “Your highness will do just fine. Ms. Williams. We are not friends. So, how can I be of service?”

“Well I never intended to be your friend. So, since you cuttin’ to the chase I guess I will too. I know what you were trying to pull in the lab today.” A slow smile spread across your face followed by an amused chuckle cocking your head to the side, and raising a brow. “Humor me dear.” Riri steps closer to you with a roll of her eyes. “I know you know that Shuri is falling for me. And I’ve fallen for her too. So you poping up and making your indecent little scene won’t stop what me and Shuri have. Obviously you’re intimidated or you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of embarrassing yourself.” You let out a pretty little giggle.

“Oh! My little show really did a number on you huh little one. Me fucking MY WIFE, wherever I want and however loud I choose, could hardly qualify as embarrassing. Now your position however *fake empathetic smile* it’s downright sad.” Stepping forward and leaning in closer to be sure she heard every word, you continued. “Listening to someone you’ve developed forbidden feelings for get rode like a horse and you can’t say a thing. Ugh! Miserable is what that sounds! It was ssss what do the French call it….magnifique. *biting your lip at the thought* But, you know that. You heard it. *another giggle* You must not be doing a very good job with whatever it is you’re trying to do for her. But that’s ok. Mama’s back on the job. Your services are no longer needed whore. And I suggest you steer clear of any unwork-related access to my wife, or I swear to my ancestors I will throw you to the wolves and they will never find your remains.”

You were in her face now. Eyes never leaving hers making it clear that there was nothing but promise in the words you’d just spoken. Riri reciprocated the energy. “I fought with her, and I’ll fight for her.” Your eyes darkened, a scowl twisting your face. “Obviously you’re a bold little bitch. So let me swoop down to your level Ms. America, so there’s no room for misinterpretation. All of this you see. Everything the light touches in this muthafucka is MY SHIT. That genius, Royal, juicy pussy that’s sitting in our luxurious home right now is MINE. You’re only hear because I haven’t made any noise about it. And For some unknown reason I’ve been cordial with you. But that shit is over. Since you’re so dead set in challenging a Queen for her wife’s hand I’ll humor you.” You take a few steps back as Riri’s nose flared and her breathing becam choppy with anger. “And I wish you the best of luck Ms. Williams.” Turning on your heels you strut away. Giving her your ass to kiss.

Walking into your home, The smell of cooked food and candles hit your nose. The lights were turned low and music played softly throughout the space. Closing the door you walk into your living room about to call out to your wife, until a shadow on the couch caught your eye. There she sat in the dark, manspread, leaned back, head facing the ceiling. “Shuri?” You whisper.

Shuri began to speak her voice raspy with tears. “I left the lab soon after you left sthandwa. I came home, and you weren’t here. So, I figured you were with Tolu. I decided I wanted to do something special for you. I picked up flowers, and a few things to prepare your favorite meal. I was so excited. It felt good. Like we used to feel before everything spiraled. You remember us? Anyway, when I got home I tried to call you to see what time you’d be back. *a wet exhale* and I heard your kimoyo beads chime upstairs. I went up to our room and saw them on the nightstand. And I panicked. I thought you left me. It scared the shit out of me y/n.” Shuri finally lifted her head and stood to her feet walking toward you. You’re wife was so handsomely beautiful candle light glowing against her face perfectly, even with the remnants of tears on her face. With everything you’d been through she still gave you butterflies. “I don’t want to loose you. I can’t do life without you, and I’m sorry if my actions have suggested that I could. I’ve been fucking stupid lately. I-I didn-“

You cut her off with a passionate kiss. Wrapping your arms around her neck, as her hands snaked around your waist. Holding onto eachother as though you were long lost lovers. Kissing as though you’d been worlds apart. You pulled away from her lips, blunt nails stroking the nape of her neck. “I’ve missed you Sithandwa sam esimnandi (my sweet love)” you say to her. “Nam bendikukhumbula (I’ve missed you too)” Shuri reconnected your lips as your hands made there way up into her curls. Backing you into the nearest wall, she kisses down your neck. You let out a moan. This felt so good. Your heart soared with happiness. Finally, your wife was back. “That was some sexy shit you pulled today” You could feel the smirk on her lips as she continued kissing your neck. You laughed loudly, blushing from the memory. “Don’t be shy now sthandwa. You were throwing that shit earlier.”

“Oh my Bast! Stop Shuriii!!” She laughed. “Alright, But Mamela kum (listen to me).” Pulling away from your neck she looks you in your eyes. Her arms held your waist tighter.“We’re back. It’s you and me against the world. You’re my Queen. If anything happens we come to eachother for comfort. Don’t shut me out, and I won’t shut you out. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, your highness.” Smiling she pecks your lips once again. “Good, now let me cater to you umfazi (wife). We can’t eat. Watch movies, I’ll bathe you, and maybe I can get an encore.” Her brow raises and you hit her arm. “You’re so nasty.” You laugh. “Me?” She says placing her hand on her chest at the audacity. “I’ll tell you what? Make the night great and I’ll make you give me a standing ovation later.” You lean up and lick a stripe against her lips. “Fuck that food. Come here.” She throws you over her shoulder. “ Stop Shuri! No!” You laugh, grateful to have your wife back.

Riri sat in the darkness of the room, in the center of her bed. She’d hacked into Shuri’s Kimoyo beads allowing them to connect to hers a while back, and now she sat listening. Imagining Shuri taking care of her the way she took care of you. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her jaw clenched in anger. It should be her. You didn’t get her the way she did. Ok, so you looked good and were a good fuck. But what else? Shuri is confused. She doesn’t know what she wants or needs.

“I’m gonna show her.”

So Who’s Gonna go Half Crazy?

#letitia wright #letitiawright #shuri udaku #spotify #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #shuri angst #shuri fic

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