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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

Text

The object of my desires

summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson.

warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, Aegon gets punched (but he redeems himself), a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW: it is smut but not very detailed so don't get your hopes up), with a sprinkle of softness

words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...)

author's note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I've been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven't seen a single fic * using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.

If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.

You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.

Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.

A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart.

“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did.

You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.

Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.

The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.

“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm's way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.

“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.

“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement, lady Y/N,” Cole teased.

“Well, I would've volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.

It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:

“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I've read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.

It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.

“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”

It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.

As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.

Until one day things took a turn.

Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least.

That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.

Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn't fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.

That's how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.

“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer:

“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.

“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Velaryon boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality.

“I suppose it's hard not to, with the way she's been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.

He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There's a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice:

“And what about her dresses?”

“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.

Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.

You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you're all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate?

Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.

Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.

You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.

By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.

He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure.

On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.

“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.

“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.

“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.

And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.

“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.

“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.

“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.

You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too.

Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.

“Good morrow, ladies.”

“How's your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.

“I'm afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.

“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.

Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look:

“Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”

“Not when I'm with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.

Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond's words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart.

In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It's the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it's easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through.

You sit by Helaena's side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.

“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.

You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:

“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”

You fight the urge to look at Aemond.

“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.

Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you:

“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”

“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.

“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”

“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.

“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I'd like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.

But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out.

You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.

During the second month, his patience starts running out.

In the years you've known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.

After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.

When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice.

The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum.

“Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.

“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I'm afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”

His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look:

“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face:

“As always, it is, lady Y/N.”

It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.

The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there's a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.

You feel like his eye doesn't leave you for a second.

You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it's time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.

The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.

When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first.

“I couldn't help but notice your absence, lady Y/N. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.

“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.

“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.

“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.

A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing.

“I've always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you've never seen him so hurt.

Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.

“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”

The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.

But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.

And then the dance comes to an end.

You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze:

“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”

“Y/N, wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.

“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”

At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain.

Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is.

“Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read.

His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time.

“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of meters away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.

“I would've apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.

“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.

“I never said I was outraged.”

“You weren't thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”

“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.

Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.

The air in the room feels heavy.

You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.

“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.

He speaks with his tone low:

“...You vex me to no end.”

With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.

“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.

His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.

“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.

“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth.

You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.

“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.

His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.

He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.

“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye.

You don't know if it's a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.

“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.

Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that's left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.

Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.

“I've missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”

He doesn't need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:

“Aemond”

“Aemond.”

His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.

He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.

“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”

His hand between your legs doesn't stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.

The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.

“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.

You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast.

“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile:

“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your clit, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.

It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.

“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” Aemond admits.

You chuckle lightly:

“I think you already made it up to me.”

Despite the hint of humor, there's an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don't know what's to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.

Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:

“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.

There's a brief pause before he adds:

“But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.

You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize:

"You were jealous of Jace?!"

Aemond looks down at the floor, and there's something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again:

“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”

“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.

“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.

His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.

“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.

“I don't plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.

He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently) — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m super nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)

* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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fetish4juggalos · 10 months

Text

Bed time with Gotham villans

I haven’t posted anything recently and thought in light of 2023 coming to a start I’d post something for the new year even though we’re 6 months into it :3

I apologize in advance for both grammatical errors and spelling errors:)

Oswald Cobblepot

I can imagine oswald being a very wild sleeper. Like the kind that can go to sleep on the opposite side of the bed and end up with their leg over you with their arms wrapped around you

Probably has alot of night terrors specially about his mom and dad. Loud random screams in the middle of the night will be a common occurrence for you

Goes to sleep in a full pajama set with night cap and slippers:)

Blanket hog all the way, constantly kicking you in the back, cuddling into you, ect.

Though he's probably not the best to sleep with hes definitely got the nicest bed. Like im talking king sized with silk pillow cases, and sheets with a ridiculous thread count

I imagine him having some long ass night routine or some weird night ritual he follows before bed

He's the last to get into bed and the first to fall asleep

Likes a warm glass of milk (or a lukewarm glass of alcohol) before bed because he's old fashioned

Refuses to go to sleep without you and will wait till the early hours of the morning and late hours of night for you to come to bed

Edward Nygma (pre-riddler)

Ed unsurprisingly is very pleasant to sleep with

He’s not a very calm sleeper but he isn't like incredibly wild either. Maybe a arm or leg thrown over the edge of the bed but thats about it

Has the occasional night terrors but besides that is otherwise peaceful

Sleeps in relatively normal sleep attire. Plain shirt with pajama pants mostly

Really basic white male night time routine. shower, brush teeth, wash face and head to bed

He has a decent sleep schedule with only the occasional sleep insomnia

Likes to spend a little time playing video games or solving puzzles before bed

Edward Nygma (post-riddler)

Sleeps a lot less then pre-riddler ed

When he does sleep it’s only for a few hours and tends to have nightmares in between periods of rest

He’s not one to initiate cuddling during bed time but he won’t stop you from cuddling up next him

Will at times sleep on the couch or wherever he ends up falling asleep. Mostly up to you to make sure he gets a healthy amount of rest

Over thinks greatly before bed and ends up circling the room on a tangent or whenever an idea strikes

Sometimes breaks into your apartment just to sleep next to you or will show up and pass out on your couch

Talks and mumbles in his sleep

Victor Zsasz

Victor rarely sleeps but will lay in bed just to be next to you for a few hours before his next job

Sleeps in mostly just boxers since he takes a shower directly before he goes to bed but on off days he’ll throw on a t-shirt and lay in bed with you

Calm sleeper surprisingly

It takes a specific type of man to be able to kill someone then come home and sleep peacefully

He’s a quiet sleeper which is also why he makes such a god assassin as noise suppression is a huge part of his job

You always fall asleep first and he likes to just stare at you for long periods of time

Half drunken water bottles and glasses on the night stand at all times

I feel like he would have some kind of lengthy skin care routine before bed

Likes cuddling especially if he’s the little spoon

Wakes up at ungodly early hours of the morning

Blanket hog but just to be annoying and so that way you’ll sleep closer to him

Only really sleeps if you’re sleeping with him as he doesn’t really sleep as much as most people and probably only rests his eyes for a few hours at a time

Jervis Tetch

Jervis is very affectionate when it comes to bed time. He loves cuddling, holding you, kissing you ect.

I imagine his bed is incredibly comfortable with many multi-colored and textured throws, quilts, and blankets covering the bed. Probably decorative pillows as well in many colors and shapes

Full pajama sleep attire. Button up sleep shirt, pants, slippers, and a night hat similar to Oswald

He likes reading to you or being read bedtime stories. His current favorite (aside from obviously alice in wonderland) is the wizard of Oz

A warm glass of milk or tea before bed is essential and he always makes some before bed

Jervis is a bit of a wild sleeper but for the most part stays in one spot on the bed only kneeing you a few times and stirring in his sleep

He runs warm so he doesn’t take up a whole lot of blanket but during the summer he ends up drenched in sweat blanket or not

Wild bed head since his curls are hard to tame at times

Stays up late so he falls asleep first since he’s always exhausted and sleep deprived

Wokenup in a cold sweat a few times from the occasional nightmares relating to his sister but all he needs is you to pull him back into reality

Talks to you until he falls asleep to help him get some energy out and clear his mind. He talks to you about anything and everything until he begins to drift off

Jerome Valeska

Jerome is an incredibly wild sleeper. So much so to the point where no matter what position or side of the bed he’s on he’ll end up on the opposite side in a completely different position

Throws the blanket off and on going from hogging it to throwing it on the floor

He runs hot so his sleep attire is mostly him without a shirt and a pair of tattered pajama pants or just boxers

He doesn’t really have a night time routine to speak of or a steady schedule

Normally it’s just whenever he’s tired and wherever he’s at that determine what his sleep is going to be like and how long it lasts

He’s a big cuddler at first but because he’s such a wild sleeper he’ll probably end up letting go of you and turning to the opposite side of the bed

He’ll wake up in a bad mood if he’s not sleeping with you next to him or in his arms in the morning tho even if it’s entirely his fault

He’s a brat so it takes forever to coax him into going to bed. Plus he’s stubborn so even when you get him into bed he’ll do everything in his power to annoy you or to not fall asleep

He talks a lot in his sleep normally it’s laughter or it’s him mumbling on about his mother and the trauma he received

He has nightmares but they don’t wake him up only increase his tossing and turning and sleep talk

I feel like he sleep walks at times when he’s not knocked completely out and I can image you’ve had to bring him back to bed a few times

#victor zsasz x reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #edward nygma x reader #the riddler x reader #the riddler #edward nygma #gotham #the penguin #the penguin x reader #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch #oswald cobblepot #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader

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pizzaboerr · 4 months

Text

From nothing to something.

(Sanji x reader, part one)

part 2

Summary: You work in a restaurant in Loguetown, a group of pirates come in and blow you away, giving you a offer of a Lifetime.

Warnings: Nothing yet, fluff(?)

Word count: 2,3K.

Authors note: Hello, welcome to my first ever ‘Sanji x reader’. I’ve started watching One piece after I watched the life-action. Let me know what you think and what you guys want to see next :) I have a few ideas for a few other stories, for different characters. Enjoy!

P.S.: Sorry if there are sentences that are grammatically incorrect, English isn’t my first language, so my apologies in advance.

~~—~~—~~—~~

One day when you were cleaning the tables in the restaurant you worked at, you saw a group of 5 people, who were waiting to be served. You looked around and sighed. This table wasn’t yours to take but everyone was so busy, so you decided to serve them.

You slowly walked up to them and quickly got your notebook and pen from your apron. “Hello my name is y/n and I will be your server for tonight. What can I get started for you all?” The smile you gave was a little one. To be honest, you never did this, you only cleaned tables and helped when necessary so you felt a little bit nervous.

“I want a beer.” the Green-haired boy asked you.

You nodded, wrote it down and looked at the guy next to him.

“I also want a beer, no make it two!” The guy said. “I want a beer too please” The girl said shortly after.

“I want a big glass of cold milk.” The boy with the straw hat said. You were still looking at your notebook when he said that, which made you chuckle slightly, not because you thought it was funny but because you expected it from him somehow.

“Can I have whatever you would normally get mademoiselle?” You looked up from your notepad because you just finished writing down the glass of milk and looked into the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. “U-uh y-yeah sure. Do you want it to be a surprise or do you want me to tell you?” You asked curiously.

“Surprise me love.” He said while he winked at you. You felt your cheeks heat up slightly, nodded quickly and walked away to get the drinks. You smiled when you walked to the bar and made it your mission to prank the blond haired flirt.

When you returned with the drinks, The straw hat asked you about something in the Grand line, hoping you would know. You lived in Loguetown so wasn’t unusual at all for someone asking about the Grand line. You answered the question and gave everyone their beer, gave the straw hat their milk and handed the blond haired man a hot chocolate with whipped cream.

He looked confused at the drink, both boys and the girl laughed hysterically and the straw hat sighed loudly. “That looks good Sanji!” The straw hat boy said excitedly as he looked back at you and said without hesitation “I want one of those as well.” You smiled wildly and nodded. You looked over at the boy named Sanji and when he didn’t say anything and was just slightly smiling at the hot cocoa, you took a breath and smiled slightly.

“You said, and correct me if i’m wrong, Can I have whatever you would normally get mademoiselle” You tried saying it the way he said it which made the green haired boy spit out his beer and laugh again. Sanji gave him a nasty glare and when he looked back at you he smiled.

“And you are absolutely correct, I’m just amazed that this is your choice madam.” He chuckled, grabbed the mug and took a sip. “But now that I tasted it, I understand it completely. this is perfect.”

After everyone finished what they ordered, you walked back to the table to give the check to them. Before you could do that, the straw hat boy asked you another question about the Grand line which you answered with ease. He smiled and nodded to the rest.

He then asked another question, and then another which made you laugh but nevertheless you still answered truthfully. When they got the bill the straw hat laughed, signed the bill and looked at you. “Put it on my tab.” He smiled proudly. You smiled slightly and thanked them for dining at the restaurant before leaving them behind.

You took the signed check and put it in your apron, you knew from the moment you laid your eyes on them that they were pirates, not that that scare you, but you thought ‘Maybe someday in the future this could get you a lot of berries’.

What they didn’t see is that you paid for their meal. You didn’t do the ‘put it on the tab’ thing at the restaurant, but had no balls to tell them or to go to the chef about this and let them handle it. They were sweet and try to make you laugh with any chance they got. Besides you didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.

When you were checking if everyone had left, Sanji stood there, the last one in the restaurant and you smiled.

“I’m sorry Sir, but we’re closing.” you said kindly, pointing at the clock which said 11PM.

“Sorry Madam, I couldn’t leave you here, all alone without offering to help.” He smiled and started cleaning the tables. You were shocked and shook your head softly, while you tried to avoid his gaze. “It’s okay Sir, it’s my job anyways to do so, But thank you.”

“Please love, just call me Sanji, even though when you say it, it has a really nice ring to it.” He winked and just continued cleaning the place, while you just stood there watching him, trying to come up with something to say. “And besides mademoiselle, Is it also your job to pay for guests who clearly weren’t gonna pay?” He smiled while he stopped cleaning to lean on the bar and watched you for a reaction.

You quickly looked at your feet again and blushed. He caught you red handed and you didn’t know what to. The both of you cleaned in silence for a bit until you looked over at Sanji, who was humming while he was cleaning, clearly satisfied with what happened earlier.

“Sanji, may I ask you something?” He looked up from sweeping the floor, smiling and waiting for what you were gonna ask him. He absolutely adored it that you called his by his name, catching him slightly off guard.

“Are you really going to the Grand line? Or is that some kind of hyper fixation of the straw hat boy?” He smiled and nodded. “Our captain Luffy, the straw hat boy as you referred him to, wants to become the king of the pirates and we all think we will be able to achieve his dream by going there, so yes. We’re planning to leave tomorrow morning or the day after.”

You just nodded and continued cleaning. For some reason you felt sad that they were able to leave and you weren’t. You are no pirate, just someone who cleans in a restaurant.

Some time had passed and the restaurant was tidied up and ready for the morning shift to start the day. You got your stuff and walked up to the front door, Sanji following your moves and grabbed his coat. He opened the door for you and waited for you to leave.

“After you love.” He simply smiled. You couldn’t help but blush once again. This man made you feel special but you quickly shook it off, thinking he would do this with every girl he saw.

You closed the restaurant, smiled at him and thanked him for helping you. You took a few steps towards your tiny home and got stopped by Sanji, who grabbed your wrist slightly.

“I’m so sorry mademoiselle, Can I ask you something before we part ways?” You smiled before turning around to face him. “Yeah of course. What do you want to know?” He smiled and took a deep breath, trying to contain himself. He was still holding your wrist, scared you disappear if he let you go.

“Why do you know so much about the Grand line?” His question came out just a little bit louder than a whisper.

You sighed and smiled sadly. “It was my dream to know about the Grand line, I always wanted to go there and help people who need me, or who are seeking for some answers. I realized it probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon, because no one really leaves Loguetown on their own.”

When you told him this, his heart broke. He saw how sad you were ‘knowing’ you wouldn’t be able to leave. He was determined to ask Luffy to let you join their crew. They needed you anyways because they weren’t prepared at all.

“It’s a nice dream to have Madam, Maybe it will happen sooner than you think.” He smiled sheepishly and his hand who was holding your wrist, grabbed your hand and he pressed his lips to palm of your hand. “Goodnight mi amore.” With that he left, leaving you confused and speechless in the streets.

~~—~~—~~—~~

When you arrived at the doors of the restaurant the next day, the captain of the straw-hats was there waiting, with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. “Hello.-“ He quickly looked at your nametag “-Y/n. A little birdy told me that you wanted to enter the Grand line. Lucky for the both of us, we need someone who knows a lot and you are the person for the job. What do you say if I wanted you to be a part of my crew?”

You were absolutely flabbergasted. First of all this was your chance to leave Loguetown, a place you didn’t think you would ever be able to leave. Second of all, you ready for a new and long adventure. And ti feel important made you get excited.

You smiled slightly. “Can I maybe think about the offer? When are you leaving?” There was a tone that sounded hopeful, that he maybe wasn’t leaving today. The captain smiled brightly. “The plan was to leave this morning but for you we could extend our stay one extra day?, if that helps with your decision?” He said, even though it sounded like a question.

“That would be great! Thank you. I’ll find you as soon as I have my answer, What is your name?” You asked excitedly, now smiling excitedly. “Monkey D. Luffy, Captain of the straw-hats.” Luffy said proudly.

You nodded and quickly went to work, leaving Luffy alone in front of the restaurant.

~~—~~—~~—~~

The day went slower than normal. You got some time to think about Luffy’s offer. Honestly you knew what your answer was, but didn’t know how to bring it to everyone.

After the shift ended, you had made your decision and had started to make a story how to bring it to your boss. You searched for your boss and after 5 minutes of looking you found him in the kitchen.

“Hey sir, Is there a possibility that we can maybe talk in private please? I have something I need to discuss with you.” You started nervously, trying not to show it to him. He looked up and smiled. “Ah of course y/n. Walk with me please.” You just nodded and followed him silently.

Once you entered his office, you sat down in a chair in front of his desk while he took his own seat. “What is it you wanted to discuss?” He leaned back in his seat and looked at you curiously.

“Well-“ You started off, not fully knowing where to begin. You took a deep breath and looked at your hands. “You know that I know a lot about everything that goes on in the Grand line right?” You looked from your hands and saw him nodding slowly.

“So this group of pirates came to the restaurant yesterday and were asking me questions about it, which I just answered. This morning the captain of the crew came back and asked me to join his crew.” He just smiled slightly, knowing where this was going. “I didn’t gave him an answer yet but I really want to go with them, meaning I need to quit this job.” You took another deep breath and waited for his reaction.

“Very well then. I know how much this means to you and I’m very happy you get to have an opportunity like this. The only thing that I need to know is; Are these people trustworthy?” He asked you while he reached into a cabinet in his desk to grab a pouch, before placing it on the table. “Yes sir, they are, for as far as I know now, trustworthy and kind people. They aren’t like any other pirate group we’ve come across.” You smiled back at him. He nodded and gave you the pouch. “Here are some berries. Enough to keep you going for a while at least. Now even though I hate to say this to you, I need you to grab your stuff and leave. Go on the journey, and when you come back, tell me about everything you’ve come across, pirate y/l/n.”

You smiled. Your boss could be difficult sometimes but seeing him like this made you cry a little bit. You stood up and gave him a hug. “I know this is inappropriate Sir but thank you, thank you for everything you have ever done for me.” With that you left his office, grabbed everything that had belonged to you and left the restaurant without looking back.

You quickly rushed home, grabbed a back, stuffed it with everything you think you needed on this adventure and left your home. Maybe for good. You locked your door, took a few steps back and looked at your tiny house. You took a deep breath and smiled. After you turned around you headed for the docks, to the ship that was gonna become your new home.

#vinsmoke sanji #one piece sanji #one piece #monkey d. luffy #roanoa zoro #usopp #nami #sanji x reader

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liyawritesss · 10 months

Text

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x!Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 11.8k

Synopsis: It’s your sister’s 25th birthday, and she invited you over for the extravagant birthday bash. However, there’s only one problem. Shuri has never met your family. She also isn’t aware of their past mistreatment of you. So when your parents begin to make jabs at you on what is supposed to be a joyous event, Shuri might have to apologize to your sister for what is to come next.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of verbal + physical abuse, mentions of severe anxiety, a very angry Shuri shuts shit down, shitty parents, dysfunctional family dynamics

A/N: So....this came about after watching a clip of Love & Hip Hop ATL, where in the clip one of the guys on the show was confronting his mother about the mistreatment and neglect he got as a kid and how his mother took all her frustrations out on him when he had nothing to do with what she was going through. That video touched exceptionally close to home so I wanted to writing for such an event but with Shuri, as I think for someone who is quite family oriented (or who appears to be), she would definitely have a few choice words to say to parents like that. Plus, I wanted to provide comfort to those going through similar situations as teenagers and young adults with their own parents. So I hope that this brings comfort to some of you, as it has done to me when writing it.

Song Suggestions: "Naked" & "Everything" by Ella Mai, "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin ft. Alessia Cara, "Let It Go" by James Bay, "Losin' Control" by Russ, "Control" by Zoe Wees, "You're Not Here" by Cynthia Erivo, "You Let Me Down" by Alessia Cara

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @venusdraco @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @slytherin-34 @the_lesbian-fangirl @h34rtsformilli @strangefishflapturtle @cuddl3s4shur1 @shuriislut @dejaonline @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @inmyheadimobsessed @aaliyg @cafehyunji @chunkybabygorl @rosielovesfamily @lulu-network @nichole-224 @niyahwrites @lppriceisright @blacksapphhicmaddonna @pantherheart @marsfunzon22

Note: there are some of you that for some reason tumblr won't let me tag, so I apologize in advance.

The closer you were to pulling up to your sister’s home, the harder it was becoming for you to breathe.

It wasn’t like you were ignorant enough to believe you could escape this. You’d always known, deep down inside, that one day, you’d have to face them again. Yet, here you were, tucked into the smooth tan leather of Shuri’s car, hiding the fact that you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, and your girlfriend to the left of you filled with positive anticipation to meet your family.

Your sister, Alex, was turning twenty-five today. It is a big celebration for your bloodline, and though much of the original purpose of the celebration had been lost due to oral passing, the general belief was that the lucky lady who’d survive to her twenty-fifth birthday was to be guaranteed a long, fulfilling life.

Of course your sister would have a long, fulfilling life. Alex was a woman of greatness. She’d worked hard in school, got into an amazing college, met a handsome guy who she’d married as soon as she landed her first official big-girl job at some law firm in your home city. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Alex was guaranteed for greatness.

Alex was…perfect.

You didn’t want to go. As much as you knew it would have hurt her to not have her sister at her side for her big day, Alex would’ve understood. You never liked the elaborate, extravagant lifestyle. You were a simple girl with simple pleasures, who led a simple life and wanted nothing more than to live simply.

Though, that seems contradictory, since about a year ago, you found yourself gaining the attention and affections of the very Queen of Wakanda. How you managed that feat, you would never know.

It was Shuri who had found the invitation. She was visiting you during an monthly check up at one of the outreach facilities posted in your town, when she had inevitably seen the pretty invitation sitting on your kitchen island. It was all written in cursive, no doubt the product of your sister’s perfect penmanship, and most of all, it was addressed to you and Shuri.

You’d only told Alex of your relationship after the six month mark. You wanted to be certain that such a relationship would last; though, now that you thought back on it, what good would it have done Shuri to play you? Her intentions and integrity were clear the first day she had introduced herself to you. She’d never given you any reason to not trust her, and yet, you had still doubted her. It was a period of time you regretted most, and yet, Shuri still loved you. And in realizing that she would continue to do so, even after seeing the ugly parts of you, you allowed yourself to truly love her back.

Shuri was ecstatic to go. She wanted to meet your sister in person, having only ever seen each other through video calls and communicated through text. And with Shuri’s pretty brown doe-eyes that had always been a weakness to you, you couldn’t say no.

And now, here you were, gripping the door handle tightly as you released tight breathes, wondering if it would have been beneficial to sit Shuri down and tell her the reason why your eyes showed a glimpse of dread when she’d picked up that invitation.

“Darling?” The Queen’s voice cuts through the cloudiness that fogs your brain, grounding you in a way only her honey-laced voice could do. “Are you alright?”

No, you want to say, turn the car around, take me home. I don’t want to go there-

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

Shuri looks at you quizzingly. You have not been acting as yourself since the day she’d stopped by your apartment. Since, she’d been trying to pinpoint the cause, but to no avail. Even after a year together, she still found you hard to read sometimes. It was endearing to her, a challenge she greatly accepted as part of the packaged deal that came with your relationship.

However, she couldn’t deny that this time, things felt…different.

There’s a melodic beeping that comes from the vehicle, and the red flashing on the dash panel alerts Shuri that the car is running out of gas. And not a second later, a familiar voice speaks from the surround-sound speakers:

Panther, the vehicle is reaching low fuel. It would be wise to refuel soon. There is a petrol station approximately ten miles ahead. Fuel here is priced at four ninety-seven per gallon.

“Thank you, Griot,” Shuri hums, turning to you, “we shall stop there. Fill up on gas and get some snacks. You haven’t eaten much today, my love.”

Though you fix your lips to protest Shuri’s ever so keen observation, the way her hand slips over your thigh, her open palm meeting your skin through the large hole in your ripped jeans, it’s almost enough to have you relent. “I did eat; at breakfast.”

“Which was eight hours ago,” Shuri reminds you, “almost nine, once we arrive at your sisters. I’m sure there will still be room for the food if you just have one bag of chips to hold you over.”

You hate how well Shuri knows you. It makes it hard to hide things with her keen perception and observation skills. Though, you suppose those traits all come with the territory of being The Black Panther.

A sigh escapes your lips, and the lack of a reply worries Shuri. Yet, she does not push. Instead, her thumb continues to swipe in soothing strokes along the smooth skin of your thigh as she continues to drive to the designated gas station.

All of five minutes pass until it comes into view. When Shuri parks at one of the gas lanes, she fishes into her pocket for her wallet. From it she produces a black card, and hands it to you. “Fifty should bring it back up,” the Queen says, “and a bag of chips for you should do the same.”

“Shuri, I said I’m fine-”

“Darling.” Shuri’s tone is firm, yet gentle, and leaves no room for argument. So all you can do is press a kiss to her cheek - a practice routine of mundane intimacy that brings you both pleasure - before exiting the car and walking towards the entrance of the gas station.

Shuri sits back in her seat, a sigh pushing past her lips. She’s not quite sure what to make of your behavior.

In the year that the two of you have been dating, never once did you bring up the topic of your family. Shuri didn’t even know you had a sister until six months ago. Alex reminded her much of Nakia in some sense - powerful and self made, and in that regard, she was glad that you had some semblance of family you could reach out to.

Your parents, however, were another story. A story you had well avoided, and as of recently as a few months ago, downright refused to talk about. It became quite clear that it was a touchy subject for you, so Shuri didn’t pry. However, she could not deny that part of her grew…heated, at the unpleasant thoughts that plagued her mind when it came to the reason for the non-existent relationship between you and them.

“Griot.”

“Yes, Panther?”

“What were my beloved’s vitals during the ride?”

A beat passes, as Griot computes.

“(Y/N)’s heart rate had been jumping from one hundred forty-five to one hundred seventy beats per minute. Her grip on the door was strong enough to break a thin glass cup. It appears (Y/N) was on the verge of an anxiety attack, but had been fighting it off for the duration of your journey.”

Shuri curses under her breath, more or less to herself at the information that had been relayed to her.

“She has been on edge all morning,” Shuri says aloud, “I did not ask, for fear of triggering her, but I cannot allow her to feel threatened.”

Shuri knows your triggers like the back of her hand. She’s learned to speak in a level tone to avoid startlement; she’s learned to make her presence known when entering your space; and most importantly, she reassures you, letting you know each and every day how much she loves you, how much she treasure your existence in her life, and how she vows to hold your heart with the utmost care in the world.

Shuri is the smartest person in the world, and yet, she cannot decipher the reason behind her lover’s heightened emotions. If it weren’t for the fact that she was focused on figuring out why you were like this, and how to calm you down, she’d surely find the thought embarrassing.

“Might I speak freely, Panther?”

A hum rumbles from Shuri’s throat as a sign for the artificial intelligence to continue.

“(Y/N)’s vitals have been heighted since one week ago,” Griot points out, “around the same time she had received the invitation to her sister’s birthday party. It would be safe to assume that these two instances have a correlation with one another.”

“You are insinuating that Alex’s birthday party is somehow the cause of my love’s anxiety spiking?”

“Perhaps not the party, but rather, who will be there, Panther.”

Silence fills the car as Shuri takes in the information given to her. Though, she doesn’t have much to think on it, as she spots your figure exiting the sticker-covered glass door of the gas station, a black plastic bag in hand, of which she hopes holds the snacks she had requested of you to get for yourself. She exits the car and takes hold of the gas nozzle, opening up the tiny door and unscrewing the protection cap, and slots the nozzle into the car to fill with fuel.

A few moments pass before Shuri returns to the car, having placed the nozzle back in it’s place and secured the gas compartment. Her black card rests on the arm rest, which she slips back into her wallet as the corner of her eyes catches you with something in your hand - something that’s not a bag of chips.

“I thought I told you chips, darling?” Shuri asks as she starts up the car again.

“I got chips!” You respond. “I wanted a Twix, too.”

Your free hand fishes into the black plastic back to produce a bottle of water for Shuri, slotting it into the cup holder.

“What is this?” Shuri asks, gesturing to the water bottle.

“You were thirsty,” You point out.

Shuri indeed was thirsty. She can’t help the smile that paints her lips soon after, taking the water bottle into her hand, unscrewing the cap, and taking a swig of the water.

“Are you sure you’re alright, my love?” Shuri asks once more after setting the water back down, preparing to put the car into motion.

To busy chewing on the cookie-chocolate-caramel treat, you opt for nodding your head, a short ‘mhm’ to accompany it.

As much as Shuri wanted to question further, she knew nothing would come of it. So she slips her hand back onto your thigh, presses down on the gas, and rolls out of the gas station, the conversation with Griot filing back into her mind as she drives down the long strip of highway.

“My parents are gonna come.”

You’d said it the second Shuri had parked into the driveway of your sister’s home. With each second that passed on the way there, your chest kept growing tighter and tighter. You thought that maybe if you focused on Shuri’s touch on you, or her low singing voice when Tems starts to flood the car with her hypnotic, warm and swelling voice, that maybe you would be able to calm down and not worry her. It usually worked, but perhaps because this instance was due to the fact that you would be seeing your parents for the first time in years, what was usually the cure for your attacks did very little to help.

Shuri pauses as the words leave your lips, and for a moment, it looks as if she is cross. And while she has every right to be, you hope that it isn’t at you.

You should have told her before the two of you left, as you thought to do. It plagued your mind when you were in the shower, when you were fixing your hair, when you were choosing your outfit. And Shuri had been in the same apartment with you the entire time. You had ample enough time to tell her and yet…you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You know Shuri. She would try to remain calm and collected for you, to not show her anger, because of course she would be angry either way. The car ride would have been in silence, the air thickening with each mile crossed from one city to the other. But you would know that she was upset. She should be upset now because you just dropped this bomb on her and-

“Beloved,” the Queen mutters to you, bringing you from your thoughts once more, “look at me.”

Your head turns to face Shuri. She’s put the car into park, one arm leaning on the arm rest, the other reaching over to soothe your nerves by caressing your outer thigh. She looks at you with a softness that relieves some of the pressure on your chest stunting your breathing. Her gaze tells you that she is not cross with you.

“Hey,” she says, “I am not upset with you.” And the reassurance helps you unclench the fists your hands have balled into.

She doesn’t speak again until she’s certain that your breathing has evened out, as opposed to the harsh and forced inhale-exhale pattern from before. “Is there…anything I should know?”

You tear your eyes away, but Shuri’s gaze remains firm. Consistency is key, she’s learned, when it comes to you confiding in her. Her eyes are your safe space, you will return to them. And you do, after a short moment, trying to gather your mind together.

“They’re not nice people,” you confess, eyes hesitantly returning to hers, “they’ll try and woo you and shit, but don’t fall for it. They ain’t shit.”

“Okay,” Shuri hums, “and…is there anything I can do? For you?”

“Um,” a shaky breath racks through your throat, as you speak, “they’re not here now. Alex texted me that, so I should be fine, but when they get here…j-just, don’t leave me alone.”

“I will not leave you alone.” Shuri assures. Her hand gathers yours into hers, your palms rendered chilly from cold sweat. “I promise.”

Gathering your hands into hers, Shuri brings them to her lips and presses a kiss to them. She then reaches over to press a kiss to your lips, of which you reciprocate gladly.

“Thank you for talking to me about this,” the Queen commends, “and telling me how to best take care of you. I know it is not easy-”

“I hate it-” you correct, which brings a grin to Shuri’s lips and a chuckle from her throat, because yes, she knows you hate it.

“-but you are doing it, and I am very proud of you for it.”

It’s sincere, Shuri’s praise. It’s still not easy for you to digest it, but you know her love is not transactional, conditional. She means what she says, and you know her love for you is unconditional and unyielding.

She loves you.

She is proud of you.

The pressure on your chest becomes lighter.

Upon exiting the car, you’re approached by your sister, Alex, who had seen the two of you pull into the driveway and wanted to be the first person you’d engage with. You’re not shocked when you see her eyes glassy looking - it’s been years since you two last saw each other face to face.

Alex is hesitant when approaching you - she wants to envelop you in the most bone-crushing hug she can muster, because she misses you and it has been so long since she’d held her baby sister. Though all it takes is for you to outstretch your arms to her, and Alex embraces you in the way she had been dreaming of.

“Oh, mama,” Alex breathes as she pulls away to get a better look at you. You notice the youthfulness in her face and the life in her eyes. She looks happy, “look at you. All grown up. My baby sissy is all grown ‘nd shit.”

It’s heartfelt, her words, and they make you smile. Alex turns to look at Shuri, who’s chosen to stand to the side to witness the sisterly reunion without interrupting. “And you have a girlfriend? You have to tell me how this happened.”

“By complete accident,” you say, as Shuri steps up. Her hand presses into the small of your back, encouraging you while she holds the other out to greet Alex officially, “but I guess anything can happen when you spill coffee on someone in the middle of a morning rush.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Alex.” Shuri says.

Alex shakes Shuri’s hand, and the Queen notes the hesitance in the older sister's movements. “Well, it’s not every day you meet the queen of a country. Much less, a queen of a country that’s also my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Well, I hope not to bring too much excitement with my titles,” says Shuri, “I am more than alright with being just Shuri.”

She sincerely hoped that she could just remain Shuri. For if a situation arises that she would have to act in the manner of either of her titles - Queen or Black Panther - she could not promise that the birthday celebration would remain a splendor.

An hour passes before either of you know it. You’ve found entertainment amongst the younger cousins who all gawk at your girlfriend, who sits not too far away. Shuri has a cup of punch in hand as she watches you chase the children around the yard, a small smile on her lips. It’s as if you are reliving a part of your childhood you’ve missed, the way you seem so content with the children. It all but warms her heart.

“So,” Alex’s voice interrupts Shuri’s not so discreet admiration of her girlfriend, nearly making the Queen jump, “you and my sister?”

“Ah,” Shuri breathes, looking down into her cup as a rush of heat travels up her dark skin, “me and your sister.”

“I’m not gonna go into the whole interrogation thing, grilling you on if you’re treating her right,” Alex says, “I see how you look at her. If that ain’t the look of someone in love, then I’on know what is.”

Shuri chuckles at that, because she knows that Alex’s observations are true. In fact she has no idea just how correct her observation is.

Shuri leans forward in her seat, elbows propped up on her knees as she finds your figure amidst the mess of kids once again. Her necklace dangles from her neck, the gold contrasting against her black tee that nearly meets the fabric of her ripped blue jeans with her hunched over position.

“(Y/N) is…the ray of sunlight one sees after a long, dark night,” the Queen hums fondly, “and had I known my gods would send me such a woman, I would have prepared myself better.”

Alex smiles warmly. She can tell the strong connection between you and Shuri is pure and unadulterated. It warms her heart beyond comparison.

“Thank you for coming, truly,” Alex says, “I was almost worried she wouldn’t, since our parents would be here and everything.”

And at the mention of them, Shuri finds her jaw tightening just the slightest.

“Your parents?” Shuri is beginning to put two and two together, and she doesn’t like the outcome that is unfolding from her assumptions, however careful they are.

“I…assume she’s told you about them?” Alex implies.

Shuri shakes her head lightly, taking a sip of her semi-forgotten punch. “I find myself piecing the picture together on my own…She does not talk about them.”

“That isn’t a surprise,” Alex says, “given…well, everything.”

Shuri turns her head to look at Alex. Her eyes are firm, inquisitive; Alex’s words have sparked an interest in Shuri.

”She says they aren’t good people. Is that true?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Alex replies, “to the community, their saints. To us they’re just….people.”

Shuri notes the hint of solemness that laces Alex’s voice as she speaks. “They weren’t good to either of us…but they were especially bad to (Y/N).” Alex clarifies. “You know what they say; hurt people, hurt people.”

Not when the person is your child, Shuri thinks, but keeps to herself, taking another sip of her punch. Things are starting to make sense now, and Shuri finds that perhaps she will also have to have you at her side to ground her whenever your parents decide to show up.

“So you mean to tell me you got yourself stuck in a tree, and then got angry because she tried to help you get down?”

“I was not stuck! I was admiring the view.”

“Sure you were…with tears coming down your face.”

“I think this classifies as bullying-”

Shuri had grown quite comfortable as the next hour passed. More of your family had begun to show up, a number of aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and cousins wishing Alex a happy birthday as they passed through the foyer of her house and into the backyard. Shuri couldn’t count the amount of gasps she’d heard when their eyes fell upon her, sat comfortably in the outdoor gazebo, her presence obviously a surprise to the many relatives who had come to celebrate the special birthday girl. Much more, the fact that she had you close to her side as she greeted them.

The behavior of your family members irked her. Shuri suspected that Alex had talked to each of the adults to assure that they’d be on their best behavior for the occasion, given the tight smiles and curt greetings between each of them and you. Or perhaps it was because of her own intimidating presence next to you, and the fact that she wasn’t even trying to hide the look in her eyes as she analyzed each adult that seemed to pass through.

“Babe,” you cleared your throat, “stop looking like that, you’re scaring them.”

“Looking like what?”

“Like you’re contemplating murder.”

Would it have been so bad if she was, though?

Shuri sighs as she places the red solo cup she had been nursing for a while onto the table. “Just behave, for Alex-”

“I am behaving for you,” the queen clarifies, “and your sister would say the same.”

Unable to comment any further, you released an exhale through the nose, sinking back into Shuri’s side.

“It’s guilt, y’know.” You try to reason, but Shuri had already considered that route. Perhaps there were a few who did have a guilty conscience. Shuri didn’t find herself caring if that was true or not. “They’re not bad.”

“Beloved-”

“Shuri.”

“-I am merely observing,” she says, “I promise.”

Of course Shuri was only observing. Observing the behavior of each adult family member. How they acted towards you. How very little regard was given to you. How, with the amount of bodies that have accumulated in the backyard, the gazebo area remained relatively desolate, beside the two of you, Alex, and Alex’s black and white spotted cat, who had made a home on the red painted banister.

Sure. Shuri was just observing. Definitely not questioning anything at all. Definitely not formulating words she would say to your parents if they decided to make themselves an issue.

“I’m gonna go get a shot,” you say, before propping yourself up with your hands and lifting from the cushion of the outdoor couch, “you want a refill?”

You take Shuri’s cup before she officially gives you a response. You needed a way out, to move around so that the beating in your chest could quell.

Inside there isn’t much of a party scene - it's practically empty besides a teenage family member fighting their sleep on the couch while watching an infant in the living room. The music from outside is muffled when you enter the house, and you take the time to admire the mahogany walls and deep maroon floors of the home. You could compare it to the childhood home you’ve grown up in, and you think that perhaps this was Alex’s way of healing. Recreating your shared childhood environment in a more peaceful manner.

You find the kitchen quite easily, rounding the kitchen island in pursuit of the adult punch purposefully left inside so that the underaged family members wouldn’t get it confused with the family friendly punch that rested in a big glass bowl on the party table outside. On the counter is an array of liquor choices, from fruit flavored tequila to everyone's favorite, Hennessy. You weren’t a drinker, but this far into the party, you needed some sort of incentive to get you to relax a little bit.

Once you’ve chosen your choice of liquor, you take a red solo cup, pour what you deemed to be a shot's worth, and downed it in one gulp. The burn in your throat definitely woke your senses, of which you were grateful for.

On your way towards the kitchen doorway, Shuri’s refilled solo cup in hand, the sound of familiar voices drifted to your ears from the foyer, and it made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Happy birthday baby!”

“Happy birthday, babygirl.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up-”

It took everything in you to not drop the cup in your hand at the sound of your parents making their presence known. You backed into the kitchen again, your back finding a nearby wall to ground yourself with. Your chest began to tighten, a tight lump forming in your throat, and in that moment, your hand fished for your phone in your back pocket to text Shuri.

Kitchen. Now.

There was a light shake in your hands. You hated how just the mere sound of their voices sent you into a spiral; how much of an influence they still had on you after trying so hard to separate yourself from them. Then they had the nerve to act pleasant.

There was a growing ringing in your ears, accompanied with the muffling of surrounding noise that made you breathe harder as you tried to stabilize yourself from the very apparent anxiety attack that was waiting to crash into you. You couldn’t decipher if it was the same one from before that you had fended off by sheer will, or if this was a new, more powerful one. However, when the smell of patchouli made its way to your nose, the thought of it became seconded.

“Hey,” Shuri whispered, one hand running the length of your arm, the other taking the cup from your hand that was seconds away from meeting the floor, and settling it onto the kitchen island, “hey, I am right here.”

“They’re out there, Shuri.” You breathe out.

Something shifts in Shuri’s eyes, and you can’t quite tell what it was, but the way her grip on you tightens in the ever so slightest way lets you know she’s thinking something.

“We can leave, beloved,” Shuri begins, but you’re quick to cut her off with a shake of your head.

“No,” you say, swallowing thickly, “I can’t leave, it’s Alex’s birthday-”

“Alex will understand, love; would she really want you to risk your own self for her?”

I’ve done it for years, the little girl in you voices tiredly, what’s another evening of it?

Shuri never wants to be forceful with you. She knows you’re your own woman and can make your own decisions, even if they go against her better judgment, even if they hurt you. Which is why, against every logical bone in her body, she proposes a compromise.

“Three chances,” Shuri says, “three chances is all they have. Then we will leave. How does that sound?”

Knowing Shuri, she’ll want to throw hands at the first encounter. It was endearing, really, how hard she went for you. The extent of such craze was never explored, simply because she was always calm, cool and collected. There was a part of you that always wondered the extent of it as well.

And, in hindsight, you weren’t wrong about her.

Shuri peaks from the kitchen doorway and into the foyer, seeing Alex still entertaining the two adults, their backs turned towards the Queen, which gave her the incentive to leave while the trio were occupied.

She mutters a quick ‘let’s go’ with a gentle smile, and after a few seconds, you nod. Your hand finds her, tightly interlocking your fingers as Shuri pulls you back to the backyard gazebo. Shuri had no idea the depths she was about to breach in the layers of your estranged family, but whatever the case may be, she will not let you face it alone.

It was almost the perfect getaway, too, but apparently Shuri wasn’t fast enough in getting you out of the house. She heard the matured voice of your mother call out to you, asking if it was her other daughter, and Shuri supposed that it wasn’t meant to be taken in a demeaning way, but the queen certainly did. Perhaps it was predisposed biases, perhaps it was intentional. Either way, Shuri would make sure to take as much of the burden off you as she could.

“Mom,” you say, jaws tight, but Shuri stands close behind you, a hand on your waist, and it stabilizes you, “good to see you.”

The older woman, short in stature, with wide hips and thick arms, saw Shuri standing behind you, but whether or not she didn’t address her because she didn’t recognize the queen or because she simply didn’t care couldn’t be deciphered. “Come give me a hug-!”

“I’m good,” you hurriedly said, “just- uh, not feeling well.”

“Don’t be like that,” the deep, bolstering voice of your father chimed in; a large man with an intimidating physique. Shuri was not phased, her arm only snaked it’s way around your waist, “give your mama a hug, lil’ girl-”

“I said I’m good.” You reiterate more firmly, though there was an added incentive to clear your throat shortly afterwards to make your fib more believable. “Really; I know how easy it is for y’all to get sick.”

There was a moment of pause - and exchange of glances and a shift in energy before a light ‘humph’ came from your mother’s throat. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she snooted, “and I suppose that’s why your friend there is the exception-?”

“Girlfriend, actually,” Shuri interrupts, though it wasn’t planned, and surely wasn’t expected, “it is one of many perks of being the Black Panther. I do not succumb to normal colds and illnesses as easily.”

The pads of Shuri’s fingers press into your side as she steps beside you; she’s now side to side with you, face your parents with a high chin and a look you were sure she’d only pulled out when in front of important people - or people who she suspected would try to intimidate her, yet she’d still have to play nice for publicity purposes.

“Allow me to introduce myself formally,” Shuri said, holding out her hand for your mother to take; the shorter woman did just so as Shuri spoke again, “I am Queen Shuri to my people, but for tonight's festivities, I would like to remain just Shuri.”

“A queen?” Your mother breathes out in an amused chuckle, though you couldn’t tell if it was in actual amusement or in disbelief. “Well, perhaps we did do something right with her, hm, honey?”

Strike one.

Shuri’s hand then reaches out to your father, who stares at the long, brown arm outstretched before him for a moment, before taking one of his thick, meaty hands, and shaking Shuri’s tinier one. Though, the look on his face when the queen’s grip strengthened around his hand was enough to tell you his surprise and lack of proper judgment on the brown-skinned woman.

“Got a…firm grip for a lil’ lady.” He says.

“Well,” Shuri begins as she slips her hand from your fathers, “my baba and big brother always said a firm hand makes a firm leader.”

“Well, wise men they were.”

There was much to observe in the few words shared between Shuri and your parents. Your father hid very well behind the facade of a pleasant man of few words. Perhaps he was sculpted that way, by your mother or by his own parents; either one didn’t matter, only that the end result was a man with a weaker grip than the elders she held council with, and they were pushing their latter years of nineties and hundreds. Your parents looked to be in their mid-forties.

Your mother…Shuri admits that she wished her own were still alive, for the words she knew Ramonda would have for this short-stack of a woman would be more lethal than any weapon produced by her own hands. Condescension laced in her voice with a familiar tone of jealousy that she’d heard and witnessed many black mothers having towards their own daughters. It wasn’t hard to tell, Shuri thought, but perhaps when enough people ignore such a dangerous thing, the ugly nature becomes a tolerable norm.

“Well, if you will excuse us,” says the queen, “I’m going to take my beloved to sit down. She is in much need of rest.”

Shuri did not give your parents time to react, nor to object to the sudden ending to the conversation. She’d quickly pivoted your body around and walked back outside to the gazebo, a firm hand on your back and a ticking clock in her head for when the next strike would come.

Sure enough, Shuri did not have to wait long for that second strike.

After getting you back to the gazebo to take a seat, on the verge of hyperventilating from the amount of anxiety the back and forth gave you, despite the fact that you weren’t even the one talking, Alex had come with a look of disdain. Your parents were in tow, as they claimed to want to ‘have a sit down and reconnect’. Of course, Shuri didn’t buy into that bullshit. Neither did Alex. And surely, neither did you.

And yet, neither you nor Alex yet had the courage to send them off, and Shuri, keeping herself in check, had no other choice but to allow them to sit with the three of you. So now you were tucked into Shuri’s side, phone in hand as a distraction, while Alex sat on a beige-cushioned chair to your left, and your parents in a similar-fashioned loveseat to the queen’s right.

Alex was kind enough to hide her discomfort in nervous laughs and meek agreements as your mother and father raved on about your childhoods. Specifically, the accomplishments of Alex, which would have been understandable as it was her birthday, if it didn’t have to include the ‘disappointments’ of yours they had to bring into the light.

“Remember the speech competition your grammar school had, Lexi-Pooh,” your mother chimed, using the youthful nickname Alex very physically cringed over, “you won your first ever trophy then at eight years old! Oh, we were so proud of you-”

“Mom, everyone got a trophy,” Alex reminded, putting emphasis on the word ‘everyone’ as she spared a glance your way, “we were babies, and it was a participation trophy. They just didn’t want us to be left out.”

“Well, still, my baby had the best poem on that stage!”

“Mom, I literally stole that poem off the internet.” Alex reasons.

“Yeah, off DeviantArt no less,” you speak with a chuckle, remembering the nights your sister scoured the internet for a poem to read because she, for the life of her, couldn’t write her own. Which she couldn’t be faulted for, she was in third grade after all.

Alex shares a small laugh as well. “If anyone should have won that competition, it should’ve been (Y/N),” She says. “All the teachers swore up and down she was gonna be the next Lorraine Hansberry or Audre Lorde. I bet you she got some bars hidden somewhere.”

Your mother could only hum in response; “Well, we can’t all be winners, I guess.”

There was a familiar sting that ached your heart. Despite how used you were to such rhetoric coming from your mother, it didn’t make the twang in your heart any less hurtful.

“You never liked that kinda stuff anyway, (Y/N),” your mother says, “so why did you join it-”

“I do like writing,” you say sharply, “and I wanted to be like my sister. Who doesn’t wanna be like their older sister at seven years old?”

You glanced up from your phone to look between the three people sitting before you. Alex shifts in her seat, uncomfortably, slightly shaking her head as she knows what is to come.

“Or were you just so busy with your perfect princess that you ain’t have time to learn me?”

“(Y/N)!” Your mother scolds, and you feel the protective arm of Shuri’s curl around you in defense. “Hush your mouth with them lies, girl!”

Your father remains silent, as he’s always done when your mother gets this way, and Shuri sees this, and takes note of it.

“I swear, I don’t know where we went wrong with you,” your mother huffs, “lost yo’ damn manners and mind talkin’ like that.”

Your mother then turns to Shuri, sporting an apologetic look, though it is not sincere, and merely a coverup for her own outburst. “Now I know your mother taught you well and good, Shuri, about how to talk to people and behave-”

“My mother is dead.”

There is an inevitable shift in the conversation now, one that brings the eyes to Shuri as a deafening silence befalls the gazebo. Even you rise from your curled position into Shuri’s side to eye her demeanor, checking over her form to note any changes that came with the sudden mention of her mother. Yet, she is calm and collected, her eyes showing no shifts and her demeanor intact. All seemed well…on the surface, at least.

“My mother is dead, may she be at peace with the ancestors,” Shuri says, “and she is incomparable. I do not wish to speak further of her.”

A beat passes. Your hand travels to Shuri’s leg, providing a comforting touch to the woman beside you. You weren’t ignorant to the news of her family’s passing - since her father’s death, you’d had a semblance of understanding the inner turmoil she had endured. With her brother and mother gone, she was virtually alone - save for a sister-like figure and a nephew she’d only told you a little bit about in the past few months or so.

You wanted to say something, but your mother beat you to it - this time, she actually sounded somewhat apologetic for her ignorance.

“My condolences,” the woman mutters softly, clearing her throat, “I only meant that she must have had it easy raising you. You’re so well put together and polite, if only some of that would rub off on (Y/N)!”

Strike two.

“Mom, stop it,” Alex interrupts, voice firm with a scowl on her face, “you doin’ a lil’ too much now.”

“Now, your mama ain’t said nun’ wrong,” your father suddenly speaks, who had been quite the entire conversation, but suddenly decided to stick up for his woman who was clearly in the wrong, “it’s just ladies spat, y’all know how y’all do.”

“And like I said before y’all got here, I don’t want it in my house.” Alex emphasizes. “If that’s the type of time y’all on, the door is very clearly marked with an obnoxiously pink birthday banner. Period.”

There was a small swell of pride in your chest for Alex as she set her foot down to your parents. She was determined to have them behave; she wanted a classy, friendly party for her birthday celebration. Though, she would know just as well as you that even when being put in place, the audacity of your parent’s always found itself back into trouble.

Your mother mumbled out an apology, along with something along the lines of ‘got me apologizing to my child’ under her breath as well, before you cleared your throat in an attempt to cut through the tension.

“Shuri, baby,” you hummed, “don’t we have something for Alex? In the car?”

Shuri turned to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, before she officially caught on to what you were insinuating.

“Yes,” the queen breathes out with a small smile, “we do have something in the car. For the birthday girl.”

Alex, too, shares the same look Shuri previously sported, with furrowed eyebrows and confusion written on her face. “M-Me? Something for me?”

“Of course!” Shuri answers. “Surely you did not think we would show up empty handed?”

Shuri’s hand rests on your leg, both as a reminder of her very physical presence as a grounding for herself, “How foolish of me to forget. I do not know what I would do without you, my darling.”

Shuri stands, offering her hand to you as well, adding on how she will need your help to retrieve it, before escorting you from the gazebo. While on your way to exit the yard, Shuri can hear Alex giving your parents a further scolding, which makes the queen smile mischievously.

It wasn’t a complete lie for escape, however. Shuri was nice enough to buy a gift for your sister for her birthday, though it wasn’t anything massive, and despite your constant jokes of it, wasn’t a pair of kimoyo earrings (though, from Alex’s birthday outfit, she could tell that she was a jewelry girl, and a pair of earrings probably would have sufficed better).

“I’m starting to understand why you never told me about your parents,” Shuri says in a breathless scoff, pressing a button on her beads to pop open the trunk of her car, “infuriating doesn’t even begin to describe them.”

“Are you okay?” You ask in all seriousness. “The..comment about your mom, I mean.”

How could you be worried of her feelings when she’d just had to watch your mother berate you in front of her? Shuri wonders this as she turns from the open trunk of the car to face you again. Though, she supposes that from that interaction, you were more used to centering others and their emotions than yourself. Although it caused an ache in her heart, the revelation made sense of previous actions between the two of you.

“What I said was true,” the queen replies, “though I admit, perhaps there was a bite in my tongue.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t curse her out.”

“Well…I do have a promise to keep to Alex.” Shuri says in a soft laugh. “I do not want to be the cause of her birthday being ruined. Your parents are making it fairly hard to do that, however.”

Shuri closes the trunk of the car, the tiny bag holding Alex’s gift inside being set on top of it as the queen leans against the sleek black vehicle. She invites you into her embrace, pulling you between her legs and resting her hands on your hips; yours make their way onto her shoulders, a weak smile on your face.

“That’s two strikes by my count.”

“I know.”

“We have yet to even make it to dinner.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do, beloved?”

I don’t know anymore, you think, this is all just too much.

“Let’s…stay.”

Part of you was reluctant to leave due to wanting to experience your sister’s birthday with her. You’d all but promised that you’d come to enjoy yourself with Shuri, even if your parents made that hard. But there was also an inkling of pettiness inside of you that wanted to show the assholes your parents were to the rest of your family members (who, while had suspicions of their weird behaviors and holier-than-thou rhetoric, would rather not engage in family drama to keep peace amongst the ranks).

“I’m not letting them get the better of me,” you add on, “today is for Alex. And if they wanna make it a problem, it can be a problem.”

The look on Shuri’s face was a mix of shock and pride; she hadn’t expected you to say that, and if she were being honest with herself, she was secretly anticipating such a moment to occur. Perhaps because it would give her a chance to release the pent up frustrations that had collected within her due to your parents actions; perhaps it was because seeing you stand your ground had always been an attractive sight to her. Regardless, the small smile that spread across her face was a reflection of her hopefulness.

“One more chance, then?”

“Hopefully they make it count.”

Shuri remembers how she used to dislike family dinners.

The prospect of eating with her family irked her at a young age. Though she loved her parents and her brother dearly, her teenage self was far too absorbed in her technological advances to actively partake in the family tradition. She’d taken such a routine for granted, and now, the dinner table in the large palace she called home was barren. She barely ate there anymore, consumed by the regret of not making such precious moments a priority in her youth.

As she sits next to you at the elongated party table with the rest of your family members, she notes the same air of barrenness, but not of presence of people. It is a barrenness of love.

The behavior of certain family members began to change as the night progressed. Despite the lingering glares of your family members, many aunts and uncles approached you again, expressing their joy in seeing your presence. Perhaps it was truly the guilt that you mentioned earlier, how these extended family members were subject to the bystander syndrome, and hadn’t known how to deal with their guilty consciences for whatever reason. Perhaps these people did genuinely want to reconnect with their long lost niece, cousin, auntie. Shuri would never admit it aloud to anyone, but seeing the look of distaste upon your parents face was entertaining to say the least.

“So do you drive a space ship everywhere you go?” One of your many nephews asked the queen out of curiosity, big brown eyes and white bucked-teeth shining with glee, as he’d never seen anyone of her status before.

“Not everywhere,” Shuri answers, “only the far away places.”

“Do you go to other planets? Like Mars? Or Pluto?”

“Hmm,” the queen thinks, “I don’t think I have. I shall put that on my books and tell you about it upon my return. How does that sound, little one?”

“Awesome!”

Seeing Shuri interact with the younger children eased your tense body and racing mind. She was almost a natural with them, it seemed. You leaned into her side, your cheek squishing against her shoulder with a playful huff. “Can I have my girlfriend back, please? You’ve been askin’ her questions since we got to the table.”

“Nu-uh!” Objects the little boy. “Have not!”

“Have too, lil’ boy,” you reject, “now gon’ eat so your mama don’t yell at you.”

“Can we talk about spaceships after dinner then, Auntie Shuri?”

Shuri wasn’t sure if she should adhere to the new term, having only known the child for an hour or so, but to entertain him, she allowed it. “Sure. We can talk about spaceships after dinner.”

Thankfully, the young boy seemed to be satisfied with the compromise, and began to eat his plate of food. Shuri turns to you with an amused grin, eyebrows raised as she asks “Were you jealous of your own nephew?”

“I can be jealous if I want to,” you pout, bottom lip tucked out in protest, “lil’ shit was taking you away from me.”

Shuri laughs at your banter, both glad that you’ve somewhat relaxed, and that the evening seemed to be going well. She hoped that it would stay like this.

The clinking of metal to glass caught her attention, as well as the other partygoers. Looking towards the head of the table, Alex is standing, grasping the attention of everyone in order to speak.

“Now, we all know the reason today is such an important day, aside from the fact that it’s my birthday,” Alex begins, glancing around the table, making eye contact with each individual, “though some of the kids might not know. And since we have a newcomer with us,” she says, gesturing to Shuri, who returns a nod of acknowledgement as she speaks, “I figured now is as good of a time to talk about why we celebrate the twenty-fifth birthday of the girls in our family.”

Alex sets the glass down, clears her throat, and speaks again. “Now the story has never been written down, but anyone who has sat between Nana and Great Nana’s legs to get their hair done will know the story by heart. A generation or so before them, our family had a ‘curse’ on us girls. One of our enslaved ancestors was forced to ‘engage’ with their owner who desired a mixed child. That ancestor cursed our bloodline so that no girls would survive, and slowly our numbers began to dwindle.”

You always loved to hear this story. You were never sure why, but it had always been more than hair braiding entertainment to keep a child's attention. The raw history that your grandmother and great-grandmother passed down your line of lineage always held a special place in your heart.

“Then one thing lead to another, a generation passes, and a girl is born…and she lives old enough to run away with another slave guy she fell in love with. And that ancestor had Great Nana, who had Nana, who had mom and the aunties…who had us.”

You’d been sitting to Alex’s right when she extended her hand to you to hold. You accepted it with a warm smile. She’d done the same to your mother as well.

“Reaching twenty-five is like a right of passage. Guarantees to a long, fulfilling life. And that is what we celebrate tonight.”

There were a series of claps, cheers, whoops and hollers that erupted from the table, coming from the queen herself as well. It was indeed a remarkable retelling, she thought, and she even noticed the way that Alex posed herself as a bridge between you and your mother. She applauded the woman for still trying to reconcile, but knew that there was no hope for such a feat.

As soon as Alex sat down, your mother took a stand. “I’d like to make a toast as well.”

Shuri felt you lean just a little bit closer to her.

“My baby, oh, what can I even say?” Your mother begins, striking up a face of pride. “You were perfect since the day I first laid eyes on you. I knew you’d be destined for greatness, and I can’t be any more proud of you than I am now. My baby girl is all grown up, and I can’t wait to see more of the outstanding woman you’ve become…”

Another round of applause echoes throughout the backyard, and Shuri breathes. Though she doesn’t trust your mother one bit, the words that came from her mouth seemed very genuine-

“...and you are more than fit to carry on this tradition. My only daughter that can.”

-nevermind.

The distant crickets could be heard as your mother took her seat again, seemingly proud of her little stunt. Perhaps she thought it was something good to say, but neither you, Alex, or Shuri saw the need for the ending.

“That ending wasn’t needed, but thank you.” Alex says through gritted teeth, a sigh leaving her lips. It was much like the older woman to need the last word, and although Alex truly hoped she would behave, her own patience was waning thin with the woman and her antics.

“We have a toast as well!”

Shuri whips her head to you, brows furrowed in confusion as she whispers, “We do?”

The words leave your lips before you can actually think about what you’re about to do. Upstaging your mother had never been something you’d acted upon, although you’d fantasized about shutting her up numerous times with your own words; the courage was just never there. Perhaps it was because now you were older, or perhaps it was because you now knew that Alex was on your side, or perhaps it was because you had Shuri next to you to back you up. Whatever it was, it began surging through your veins that once were riddled and crippled with anxiety.

Nonetheless, you’re standing up, and so is Shuri, so there isn’t any backing down now. All eyes were on you.

“Sister,” you begin, reaching your hand out Alex who stands up again to be eye level with you, “I will make this quick, ‘cuz you know I hate sappy shit.”

Alex laughs a little. Her grip on your hands is comforting, and the way she looks at you is almost in a coaching matter. She hadn’t expected such a burst of confidence either, but wasn’t about to let you face it alone.

“We’ve had our…ups and down,” you say, “and there were ‘things’ happening that I blamed you for, that I pushed you away for. But you’ve always been there. You were..the only person there.”

You feel Shuri’s hand caress the small of your back for support. You feel like crying, and you're not sure the reason for it, but you push it down and continue.

“I am grateful for you, and I’m glad I came to celebrate with you…and I love you.”

The air that was once thick when you started to speak seemed to ease when you said those last three words. And again, claps and praises flew out into the air at the confession. Alex, the much more sappier of one of the two of you, tried to keep her eyes from swelling with tears, but of course it was harder for her to do so.

“Don’t you start crying,” you say playfully through the loudness of the table, “‘cus you know if you do, then I’ma start crying, and we just gon’ be two snotty nosed bitches-”

Yet you didn’t get the chance to finish, because Alex then pulls you into her embrace. It’s tight and full of love, and she gives you no choice but to sink into it. For a second, it seems like the noise drowns out as you bask in the love from your sister, and you hear a faint ‘thank you’ being whispered into your ear right as she pulls away.

“I suppose this means it is my turn,” Shuri says sheepishly, once the embrace has finished and you’ve returned right at her side. She’d been thinking of what to day this entire time, though each scenario that she had run through her head didn’t seem worthy of a quality toast to a quality woman, “I shall try to make this toast worthy of your time, Miss Birthday Girl.”

“Sitting at this table, surrounded by all of you; it reminds me of a similar family routine that I took for granted in my youth.” Shuri’s eyes gaze from person to person as she speaks. “You see, I was too absorbed in my technological advances to truly appreciate the aspects of family dinners. The mundaneness of sitting with one another and being present. I used to want to give anything to be left to my own devices. And now, I sit at the head of the same table, with no one. I am Queen of the most powerful nation in the world, and my entire family is gone.”

Another silence fills the table as everyone looks onto Shuri; her head is held high as she speaks, though, voice unwavering. She breathes when she feels your hand slip into hers.

“Alex, you are a very blessed woman to have your family here with you to celebrate a generational obstacle overcome,” the queen bids, “and for that, I propose a toast to you, and a saying from my people to yours.”

The queen picks up her red cup, and watches as each individual picks up their own, before speaking again. “To Alex, a woman of virtue and genuity. ‘Akukho mntu ngaphandle kwesidenge ophika usapho lwakhe’.”

A round of cheers sounds before everyone downs a gulp of their chosen drinks in unison, applauding Shuri for her heartfelt toast and gratitude. As the both of you sit, and light chatter begins to cover the table, your mother calls out to Shuri with a look of curiosity.

“Such a lovely quote, Shuri,” your mother says, “what does it mean?”

“Oh, the proverb,” Shuri says, “it is one my baba used to say.”

“Did he now?”

“It means ‘No one but a fool denies their family’.”

Hearing this, your gaze shifts from the food in front of you to Shuri, who sports a proud smirk as she watches your mother grow uncomfortable in her seat from the queen’s words. As if she were putting the dots together in her own head.

With Dinner done, your nephew was all too quick to pull the queen aside to continue their conversation about her fancy spaceships. While his eagerness was endearing, Shuri had to put the conversation on hold because of an important phone call that came through. You assumed that it was Ayo, a name you had heard in fleeting conversations, but knew it to be a person of importance to Shuri. A captain of her Queen’s Guard, which Shuri had respectfully asked to fall back on attending the outing with the both of you, since it was a family thing, and Shuri didn’t want Alex’s neighbors questioning why so many bald-headed women were lingering around her house.

She said she would make the call quick, five minutes at most, before stepping into the house for quiet and privacy. The loss of her presence made you slightly anxious, but you maintained your spot in the gazebo, and Alex popped in here and there. She was the host, so she had to engage with the rest of her partygoers, but you were more than grateful that she took the time out to still check in on you, despite it being her day.

You took a sip of your drink - the adult punch that had been put in the kitchen so kids couldn’t get to it - and watched the party goers enjoy themselves from the comfort of your seat. Children running around, chasing each other with sparklers; aunties and uncles dancing to the old school remix; teens making TikTok videos with dances and skits. For a moment, things were content, and everyone was happy. Normal.

For a moment, for the first time in a long time, you felt happy with your family.

“You’ve found this corner real comfortable, I see.”

The voice of your mother slips through he peaceful silence that previously covered the gazebo, and although you don’t feel it at first, your body begins to tense. She herself sports a red solo cup, though you can’t tell what’s inside of it.

She doesn’t ask to join you - just takes up a single seat across from you - and even if she were to ask, you aren’t sure if you could even mutter an answer.

“It’s been so long since you’ve left,” your mother says, “since you decided you were grown enough and left your family behind. How has life been for you?”

“Good.” You reply, short and curt, taking a sip from your drink.

“You seem more than good,” she continues, “I assume living with a queen gives you a lot of financial relief-”

“If you came over here to start shit, please don’t.” You quickly cut off. “One; my relationship is of no concern to you, but Shuri doesn’t pay for shit of mine that I have. I was good before I met her, and I’m still going good on my own.”

You weren’t sure where the sudden crossness came from, but you definitely knew it had something to do with your mother’s constant mention of Shuri, as if she held prominent importance tonight and not the other child she’d birthed. “And it’s Alex’s birthday. I’m here for her.”

Your mother scoffs at your words, “-and there you go, twistin’ my words around and making me seem like the enemy. I’m just trying to talk to you!”

“Bullshit,” you spit, rising from your seat in a quick bid to find a quick exit into an area more populated, and more importantly, away from her, “I’m not doing this with you.”

You turn to try and leave, but your mother continues to speak behind you, pushing you further, “you’re so ungrateful; after everything we’ve done for you, you can’t even show an ounce of respect to your own mother.”

In that moment your body froze on the steps of the gazebo. A dull chill awakens within you, spreading through your limbs, your skin nearly rising into goosebumps, before a wave of anger crashes in.

“Fine,” you mutter, “you wanna ‘talk’?”

You turn to face your mother once again, eyes burning holes into her face, which has the audacity to hold a look of shock. “Let’s fucking talk.”

“Oh, but where to begin?” You scoff. “Maybe lets talk about how you can’t seem to ever say one good thing about me. It’s always some backhanded comment that you can’t help to point out how amazing Alex was and how shitty I was in comparison-”

“-that is not true,” your mother tries to interject, “but you were - and still are - a difficult child-”

“-I wasn’t fucking difficult!” You shout, drawing a few pairs of eyes to you and your mother. “I wanted fucking attention that you weren’t giving me! And you thought beating me was the best way to get me to ‘stop acting out’?”

“It was discipline!”

“Oh, but Alex never needed it though, right?” You question. “Alex was just so perfect to yall. She got the best of everything while your little mistake became the punching bag you took your frustrations out on!”

The increasing shouting started to draw attention from the other partygoers, who muttered among themselves, wondering the reason for the altercation, questioning if they should intervene. And it only got worse when the sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the backyard, making the music that played from outdoor speakers seem quiet.

Your mother, the pious, religious, righteous woman she claimed to be, just slapped you in front of the rest of your family.

“What’s going on over here?” The voice of your father bellows as he approaches the gazebo, having only made his presence known after a few gasps from seeing your mother hit you.

“I will not be disrespected by you, you ungrateful wench,” your mother seethes, “I was a damn good mother to you, even when we fell on hard times. I raised you!”

“I was a fucking kid!” You yell back. “How does a fucking adult take their anger out on their own kid!?”

“And you,” comes your voice through gritted teeth upon seeing your father coming to console your mother, which seemed to anger you even more, “dear old dad, who never ‘picked a side’. You sat there and watched as she fucked up her own kid.”

Your voice comes out more strained, wavering at the sight of your father. The man you saw treat Alex like a literal princess while you could only ever dream of being treated as such. You knew the next words you’d say were going to push his buttons - perhaps part of you wanted a reaction from him that could show that maybe, somewhere inside of him, he cared when your mother didn’t.

“If anything you’re more of a bitch than her!”

You weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment; the loud grunt and your fathers arms menacingly reaching out towards you, or the flash of black that shot across your vision right before you closed your eyes shut, anticipating something to happen.

The silence was deafening as you felt your legs stumble back into something warm but you were too scared to open your eyes yet. Of all your senses that had been stricken with tension, the first to register with reality once again was your hearing.

“I want you to think carefully about your next actions,” the queen’s voice comes out hardened and unyielding, “because I can assure you, I will not have to think about mine.”

That flash of black that had crossed your vision earlier had been Shuri. And if your eyes had been open, you yourself would have shuddered at the pure rage that was present on her face.

Shuri’s hand, albeit tiny and delicate in most cases, held your father’s wrist in a right grasp, and despite the broader man's struggles to pull free, it was futile. She was not letting him go, and neither was the intensity of her stare that held your mother’s gaze.

“If you don’t let my husband go-”

“Shut. Up.” And her words were absolute, leaving no room for question. Perhaps it was part of the authoritarian aura that she’d gained from taking on her queenship that shut your mother up, but whatever the case may have been, Shuri admits that she certainly enjoyed the look of surprise on your mother’s face.

“Alex,” Shuri says, and it now becomes clear to you that the thing you had back into was your very sister. It also became clear how tight her grip on you was, as if she were scared to let you go, “take my beloved back to my car. We will be leaving shortly.”

There’s a gentle nudge and a hushed ‘c’mon’ before you feel yourself being moved sideways, then forward, Alex doing as Shuri says and relocating you to the front of her home to get you into a safer, calmer place.

It isn’t until Shuri sees your figure disappear behind the wooden fence that she releases your father’s wrist. The man winces as he regains control of his limb, his wife bringing her hands to soothe the skin where it was beginning to turn purple from just how tight her grasp was.

Shuri turns in a slow circle, eyes scanning each and every one of the individuals who’d stood by and undoubtedly watched the scene unfold, offering no sign of intervention. “This is what your family is?” She calls out. “It is sickening.”

The guilt shines in their eyes but Shuri has none of it. To her, they are all just as guilty as your parents, for they've watched the same scene unfold many times before, and just the same, no one stood up.

The queen turns back to your parents, as she bites the inside of her cheek to control her composure. “I do not know your story,” she says, “nor do I wish to, and now, nor do I care. I only leave you with this as I leave.”

Shuri takes a step forward to your parents, jaw clenched tight and piercing eyes meeting theirs once again. “My (Y/N) will be loved…as it is clearly something neither of you could bestow upon her.”

And in the same flash of black she leaves the party, that had long gone silent, and biting her tongue so hard she thought she’d draw blood.

Exitting the back yard, Shuri comes around the front to see you and Alex sitting on the porch steps. She holds a towel to your cheek, whispering to you with care about holding the cold, wet cloth gently on your cheek to battle the inflammation. It was the first and only thing she could grab without immediately leaving your side, the green garden hose still running into the grass proof of it.

It takes everything in Shuri not to run to you, to pull you into her arms and cradle you into her embrace, to shield you from the cruelness that has surely been brought back to the forefront of your mind. There’s a pit in her stomach that churns with the pain of unease, and it eats at her as she thinks; if she had just been swifter with that call with Ayo, or better yet, not even answered at all, then you wouldn’t have been left alone, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Shuri grows closer and realizes that the both of you are crying, and her heart tightens in her chest. She bends down to meet you on eye level, resting a soothing hand on your leg. Alex holds her head in one hand, her other still grasped tightly onto your side, holding you close to her. Shuri finally understands what Alex meant when she talked about the varying levels of harm done to the sisters in their youth. You took the physical and verbal brunt, while Alex took the emotional.

“This was not suppose to happen.” Shuri hears Alex mutter, and the queen quickly cuts in before Alex has a chance to even say as such.

“It is not your fault, Alex,” the queen asserts, “you cannot be responsible for the actions of your parents.”

Alex looks up to Shuri, sniffling as their eyes connect. A beat passes before the older sister nods, though her jaw is still tight with tension. There’s a shift in Alex’s eyes, from sadness and regret, to a hardened security.

“I need to get my house in order,” she says, glancing to her side, and reluctantly peeling her arm from around your waist, “party’s officially over.”

Alex stands to do just as she intends, and as she leaves, Shuri grows closer to you. One hand rubs circles into your knee, the other one gently lifts your face up to meet hers. Your eyes are tired, likely due to adrenaline fatigue, but your body still shakes with a light tremble.

“I am taking you home.” She says, leaving no room for argument; even though, in your current state, you couldn’t refuse her if you wanted to. So when Shuri wraps her arms around you and lifts you to your feet, you all but lean into her warmth.

And the kiss she presses into the crown of your head provides reassurance that even after the events that have unfolded, with Shuri, you will be okay.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

Howdy, I hope you're having a good day! I just read your post with the 141 and a partner that uses their callsign in an emergency and it's really good! I know Alejandro, Rodolfo and Konig don't have callsigns but I was wondering if you could please write the same scenario with them? Perhaps the partner calls usually them by a nickname (Ale, Rudy, Ko) but uses their full name when in danger. I apologize if this doesn't make sense but thank you for reading! :)

As promised, here's a second edition for this request for our other COD boys🙂🩷

Original Request-

Alejandro/Rudy/ König x Reader, Where Reader Calls For Them In An Emergency

Warnings: unwanted advances, mentions of violence, crying

A/N: I tried to be respectful with this one. Please be advised that this can be triggering for some readers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König-

You were finishing up cleaning the training room for the night, when three of the newer recruits had come in, sauntering about the room.

You knew of them from König, as they were not the biggest fan of him. König had gained quite a bit of notoriety lately, as he'd had a few successful missions, which caused quite a few members on base to grow jealous of your boyfriend.

"You're Königs girl, aren't you? Heard you're quite the fighter. Let's see how well you can fight." One of the recruits said, his voice laced with malice. It was clear the three of them were very drunk, and you weren't a fool. You knew you were outnumbered.

"This isn't a fight you want." You said, your usual confident tone faltering slightly as they started to corner you.

"Hey, man, I wouldn't. König will fuck us up if he finds out." One of the other recruits said, backing up slowly.

"Oh, whatever. Let us have some fun." The first man said as he backed you into a corner, swiping at your legs, catching you off guard and sending you buckling to the floor.

Two of the men laughed as the other backed off slowly, the taller one landing a kick to your midsection. "What, not so strong without your mammoth of a man here, are you?"

"Please, stop." You held your hands out defensively. You were in no position to get up and fight back, as they had you pinned to the ground. Another kick was landed to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

"Stop! KÖNIG!" You screamed, praying your boyfriend would hear you.

König, who was just walking past the training room on his way to your dorm, stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing your scream. His blood ran cold, and he quickly threw open the door.

His body reacted before his brain could, as he stormed up to the man who had been kicking you and picked him up by his shirt collar.

"Touch them again, I fucking dare you." Königs voice was laced with vitriol, as he pushed at the man's throat slightly, cutting off his oxygen. "I promise you won't like the outcome."

The man put his hands up in surrender, and König dropped him to the floor with a loud "thud." The other two men had vanished the moment König had barged in the room.

König placed his foot on the man's abdomen and pushed down harshly. "You make sure and tell your little friends if I ever, ever catch any of you harassing my partner again, I'll end all of your miserable lives."

He lifted his leg off the man, and the man took the opportunity to stand and bolt out of the room.

Königs eyes softened as he looked down at you, and crouched down next to you.

"M-maus?" His voice came out as shaky, a complete 180 from the man that was just defending you. "Are you okay? Let me see you."

You let out a strangled cry as you lifted yourself off the ground slightly. "Kö."

"Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't here." He said softly as he gently pulled you in his arms. He rubbed at your arms soothingly as he pressed kisses to your temple.

"It's okay, Kö. Thanks for coming to save me." You sniffled before nuzzling your face into your boyfriend's neck.

"Don't thank me. I'd do anything for you, Maus."

He later took you to your room and cuddled with you in your bed, not letting you from his sight.

He made sure the next morning to make it known to the other two recruits that no one was to ever mess with you again.

Alejandro-

You were out walking yours and Alejandros dog on a sunny afternoon in Las Almas.

Depending on the area you lived in, in Las Almas, there were some safe areas, and some not so safe areas.

You and Alejandro lived on the safer side of Las Almas, but there were areas nearby that blended into some of the rougher sides.

Unfortunately for you, you had tuned out the world as you listened to the newest album of one of your favorite bands and had ended up on the other side of the block, into one of the rougher sides of town.

Your dog had started to grow a little restless and kept looking behind you, which caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stick up slightly.

You looked behind your and were met with the sight of a middle-aged man, who had a sinister smile on his lips. It was clear he had no good intentions for you, and the fact that your dog, who normally loved everyone, was nervous had your heart sinking into your stomach.

You began to increase your pace, walking briskly back toward your home, when you heard his footsteps rapidly approaching from behind you.

"ALE!" You screamed, running as fast as you could away from the man.

Alejandros head shot up from the garden he was tending to in your backyard, and quickly got to his feet.

"Y/N!" He cried out, trying to find the source of your cries. "Y/N, where are you?"

He darted around a corner, as was met with the sight of you sprinting toward him, your dog not far behind you. What had his blood boiling, though, was the man chasing you.

He quickly caught you in his arms, the wind being knocked out of him slightly at the impact. "Who is he?"

"I don't know, Ale, please help me." You cried, your voice coming out panicked.

The man stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Alejandro, a terryfing smile falling across his lips.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you bothering my spouse?" Alejandro called out as he pushed you behind him.

"Don't know what you're talking about, man." The guy held his hands up in mock innocence. "Just minding my own business."

Alejandro took a menacing step closer to the man as his grip on your wrist tightened. "Then get the fuck out of here."

The man gave a dark chuckle, before slowly sauntering away from the two of you.

Once the man was out of sight, Alejandro turned back to you, anger clearly showing on his face. "Cariño, why were you over here? I told you so many times to mind where you're walking. What if I hadn't been here?"

"I'm sorry, Ale. I zoned out. I should've been paying attention." You said softly, your bottom lip trembling slightly.

Alejandro sighed deeply as he took in your expression. "It's okay, mi amor. Please just be careful next time. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."

He pulled you into a tight hug as he pressed kisses to your hair. "Please, promise me you'll be careful next time."

"I promise, Ale."

Rodolfo-

You and Rodolfo were at a local farmers market, enjoying the day off together. Rodolfo had insisted that he get fresh vegetables for the dish he was making the two of you for dinner.

"Alright, mi amor, I'll go get some of the fruits, are you okay with getting the vegetables?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your hand.

"Of course. Meet back here in 10?"

You had just gotten a few of the vegetables needed when you felt the presence of two men behind you. You'd noticed them following you earlier, but thought nothing of it at first.

While trying to get away from them, you hadn't noticed you ended up at the end of an alleyway.

One of the guys had let out a dark chuckle as the two of them approached you. "You look lost, need us to help you find your way?"

"Please, leave me alone." You begged, your hands flying up in a defensive gesture.

"Why would we do that? Don't want to leave a pretty thing such as yourself alone out here, do we?" The one man asked, looking to his partner.

"No, we wouldn't. You look awfully lonely. Let us help you." The other said as they got closer to you.

"RUDY!" You cried out, desperately trying to get away from the men.

Rodolfo, who was over at one of the fruit carts nearby, dropped the fruit he was holding and quickly darted over to the source of your cries.

He frantically searched for you and found you hunched in a corner, with the two men surrounding you, their hands trying to undress you. He felt something within him snap at that moment, and before his brain could catch up, he quickly landed a crushing punch on one of the man's jaws.

You let out a yelp of surprise as your leg instinctively shot out from underneath you, tripping the other man in front of you, sending him toppling to the ground face first.

You scurried back against the wall, and watched as the two men cradled their wounds, and sprinted in the opposite direction of you and your husband.

You let out a sob you didn't know you were holding in, your hands flying to clutch at your face. Rodolfo immediately turned to you, his heart shattering as he watched you.

"Cariño, are you okay?" Rodolfo slowly slid to his knees next to you as he cradled your face in his hands.

You instinctively pushed him away, your fight or flight instincts still in full effect. "No! Please don't!"

"Hey, hey. Baby, it's me. It's alright, I'm here." He cooed gently, his hands slowly approaching you again. "Come here."

You let out a choked sob as you threw yourself into his arms. "Rodolfo."

"I've got you." He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as he held you tightly in his arms. "I've got you."

He held you like that for a while before picking you up bridal style in his arms. "Let's just go home, okay, sweetheart?"

He kept you close to him, as the two of you walked to your car. Even on the ride home, Rodolfo's hand never left yours. He'd be damned if he ever let anything like that happen to you again. The next person who dared trying would have a death wish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoy!!! Let me know if there's anyone else anyone would like to see!🙂🩷

#cod imagine #mw2 imagine #konig imagine #konig mw2 #konig x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo cod #rodolfo parra #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #alejandro mw2 #mw2 x reader #konig call of duty #konig cod #mw2

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pandorasfavorite · 1 year

Text

Summary: Aonung is nothing but sweet towards you, till one day he isn't.

Note: This is short but angsty and also I think I should've made the ending different but idk.

He doesn't even remember why he yelled at you because there's nothing you could do that would anger him. But it happened because that tear-stained face and those pinned-backed ears will forever be etched into his memories. This day will forever be in the back of his head labeled as the moment he broke your heart.

Now he is just reminiscing over what just happened but a harsh shove to his shoulder makes it hard. Loak is running after you after delivering the harsh shove and a few curses. Neteyam is far behind him but instead of shoving past Aonung, he confronts him, "Why would you say that to the woman you are betrothed to?". Aonung hangs his head in shame like a child being scolded he isn't aware of Neteyams departure or his sisters. So he is left alone on shore aching to talk to the woman he loves.

~before~

His duties the day prior were not to Toniwaris standards, Aonung was scolded and punished that morning before training began. Maybe if it wasn't for the Sully's needing assistance he would've done better so this is their fault. Aonung was in a bad mood all day ignoring your advances to talk to him and even shielding away from your hidden touches. Aonung didn't want to act this way towards you, it's improper to disregard the woman you are courting. But the annoyance from being scolded and punished lingered heavily. After tense ilu lessons next were breathing exercises, where everyone sat beside each other in a circle and was coached.

It was going smoothly for the most part, with a few chuckles and giggles from around the circle, also some chit-chat. Aonungs mood did not go unnoticed by anyone though. You tap Aonungs knee hearing a grunt come from him signaling you to speak, "What is wrong yawne?". He does not reply instead he makes a demonstration on the proper way to breathe. Your mind is focused on Aonung and how you can help him so you try again, "Did I do something wrong?" you say in a whisper touching his knee once more. The annoyed growl that Aonung produces stops all the conversation and all eyes turn toward him. "Can you do anything right?", Loak and Neteyam visibly straighten up at his words, "Hey man lay off of-" you cut Loak off with a raise of your hand. Aonung continues his proclamation, "I mean seriously you sit here poking and prodding at me when you have so much to learn. You're so obviously behind that it's pathetic y/n. Maybe it is time I start looking for a more suitable mate" he says finishing with a huff.

Everyone around him gasps except you, you're too heartbroken to even consider gasping. No. Instead, tears roll down your face uncontrollably as you stand, "I agree" you walk away, yet somehow you start running all the same.

~back to present~

He knows he must apologize and make things right, cause maybe he still has a chance to be with you forever. So he sprints as fast as his legs can carry him the sand getting kicked behind him trying to slow him down. He skids to a stop seeing you kicking your feet at the water below you where you sit. You know he's there, you can sense his presence from miles away because of the love you carry for him. Even though you know Aonung is there you speak no words of acknowledgment to him. So he speaks first moving his body to sit next to yours.

"I didn't mean what I said" he speaks looking at your face apologetically.

"I know," you say watching your feet in the water below you.

"I'm sorry".

"I know".

He feels his heart crack with every syllable that leaves your lips, somehow even through this pain you are facing, you are still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. You put your hand out right where the space is still not looking at him. Aonung places his hand right on top of yours looking down at the water similar to yours.

"I hurt you didn't I?" Aonung says already knowing the answer.

"You did," you say with a sniffle.

Aonung nods at this feeling his heart shatter even more than before, "I'll fix this. I'll do anything for you. You are all I want yawne". You lean your head on his chest exhaling as you hear his heartbeat, "You'll fix this" you repeated to him in reply.

He nods his head in agreement putting his arms around your torso, "I will".

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x you #aonung imagine #aonung x female reader #aonung x y/n #avatar way of water

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insxghtt · 1 year

Text

any other man — javier peña x reader

She was already getting too used to it, but maybe he just wanted to be like any other man.

warnings: implied smut but nothing explicit, angst i guess, +18

idk what this is ok i have insomnia and this just came out of it. also, english is not my first language so i apologize in advance. tell me if you like it please, leave a comment or something if you want me to continue. i really have no idea if i am good at writing or if this was all just an illusion and in reality i suck at it. idk i am really depressed lately and i am doing mY BEST OK

She was used to it. Javier called her so many times in the middle of the night, desperate for a warm touch, she even lost the count. They didn’t talk much, but she still knew him better than anyone. Better than him, even.

Javier was one of her favorite clients. He was kinder than most men, always made sure she felt as much pleasure as he did. He also didn’t just fuck her. The first time he asked her to only sleep with him, she found it so fucking weird, even a bit creepy to be honest. After a while, she understood why. Javier was surrounded by a world that sucked all his energy. He couldn’t give himself the privilege of loving someone for free and put them at risk.

Still, he was a human. So, she did that for him. She was the only one he didn’t fuck every time he met, and she learned to like it. Sometimes when he was gone for too long, she even missed him.

Although, she was not used to him being so fucking cold. That night he was different, she realized it from the moment she heard his voice on the phone asking her to come over. Maybe after fucking everything out, he would go back to being the Javi she was used to, but that didn’t happen.

After he reached the peak of his pleasure, he lay down next to her naked body. She, with a soft smile on her lips, rested her head on his chest. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their bodies still sweaty and hot. She looked at him, waiting for him to ask her to stay. Instead, all she saw was his cold expression.

“What is it, Javi?”, she whispered. He loved that voice, the accent, the tone, everything about it.

Yet not even her voice was enough for him to respond. She refused to give up, of course, and started to leave soft kisses on his chest. For a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to forget everything, but things were just not that simple.

“Stop”, he said while getting away from her and standing up. That was not good. He was not a very healthy man, mentally speaking. He was a fucking DEA agent, damnit. It would honestly be concerning if he was totally okay.

“Javi...”, she tried to speak, but he was quick to interrupt her by getting out of bed and starting to look for his clothes around the messy room.

“You should go.”

She laughed. Not a loud laugh, but a weak and low one, not funny at all. Nothing about that moment was funny. Still, she tried to joke. “So now you’re back to treating me like a whore?”

“I had a tough day, alright?”

“So now we’re back to square one because you had a bad day at work?”, she said calmly, still trying to understand.

Her accent, her fucking accent. He could fall in love with her just by hearing it. Except that this time, the words that came with it were slightly brutal.

“It wasn’t just a fucking bad day, damnit”, he sighed.

After finally founding his jeans, he put them on and searched for a cigarette on one of the pockets. After finding one, he reached for the bedside table and took his lighter.

“You’re home now, baby, you can relax.”

He lit the cigarette, but not even a long nicotine puff was enough to make him calmer. “Don’t call me baby, you wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the money.”

“Well, shit, were you expecting something different? Guess you’re looking in the wrong place”, she laughed sarcastically. “You don’t have to ask twice, alright? I’m just doing my job.”

He didn’t answer, so she just stood up and faked a smile for him like she would smile for any other man. She got dressed without giving him a single look, just like she would do in the presence of any other man. Most importantly, after getting ready, she turned to him and extended her hand waiting for her payment, just like he was any other man.

He gave her the money. He always paid her, but why it hurt so much receiving it this time, she did not understand.

She turned his back on him and walked to the door feeling his stare.

“I killed a kid today”, his words were enough to make her stop immediately. “Fourteen years old. They told me I did the right thing. It still doesn’t feel right.”

She didn’t look at him, but she also didn’t move, like she was waiting for him to continue.

“Ask me to stay”, she whispered loud enough for him to listen, almost like she was begging for him to let her in.

How could he? How could he do that to her?

“I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for you to pay me...”

“I know.”

She would’ve, she wanted to. Hell, he wanted it.

“You know...”, she said turning to look at him again. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his jeans, no shirt on, the cigarette between his fingers. God, she could stare at him the whole night if he only asked. “Every day I realize more and more how... dumb men are.”

Javi didn’t interrupt. He continued to pay attention to every single one of her words. Partly because he loved to hear her talking, partly because he didn’t really want her to leave.

“You build this world... this horrific, terrible and cruel world. With your own rules, with your own ideas, all of it just so you could be the ones to dictate what’s right and what’s wrong”, she had tears in her eyes, but she did not cry. She would never cry in front of him. “And at the end of the day the very same world you invented is the one torturing you.”

She sighed, swallowing the tears while watching the one man she always thought of as unbreakable, tearing up in front of her.

“If only you could see the real world behind the one you made up, you’d see that there’s no good or bad”, she gave him a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Javi. None of us are going to heaven.”

And after she closed the door behind her, he felt the loneliness hit him like never before.

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ackermanbloodline · 8 months

Note

hello~

apologies if this already exists, but if not, i’d love to see some content where one of us is sick and the other takes care of them. doesn’t have to be sexual in nature, but… 🤷🏼‍♀️

Author's Note: What a great prompt, thanks for sending it in! This takes place in a universe where Paradis is more technologically advanced, but the anime’s plot remains the same. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff.

* * *

In Sickness & In Health - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

From the guest room, you hear a series of muffled, gurgly coughs come from your and Levi’s bedroom. It wakes you up from a dead sleep and a feeling of helplessness takes hold of you. For the past day, he’s been sick as a dog with Influenza A as indicated after getting a few tests done at the hospital. And the stubborn bastard has barely let you help him, insisting that your health is a priority. So since yesterday morning, he has practically barricaded himself in the bedroom.

You check the bright red numbers of the alarm clock next to the nightstand: 1:24 AM. You mentally do some math and conclude his next dose of cough medicine should be taken right about now. You’ve practically had to shove it down his throat. You hope that since he’s not able to sleep due to his coughing that he’s a bit more willing to take it again.

You shove the covers off you in one smooth motion and pad over to the door, opening it with a quiet creak. It reveals your quiet home, the smell of your delicious dinner-of-one lingering in the air. Your quiet footsteps pad over to your bedroom door. As you approach, Levi is still coughing up a lung. You knock three times with your index finger.

“Levi? Can I come in?”

He can barely take a breath to respond.

“Yes.”

Your eyes widen and you open the door a little too quickly. The room is stuffy, so much so that it’s almost hard to breathe. All you can see is a faintly trembling lump underneath the silk duvet in the moonlight. When you stride over to the side of the bed and sit down, he carefully sits up and looks at you with lidded, bloodshot eyes. His hair is ruffled and messy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” he replies sarcastically between coughs. “I really wish you wouldn’t be in here. I don’t want to get you sick, too.”

“I know and I really appreciate you thinking of me… but I want you to get better, to get back out there and slaughter titans and be the beacon of hope for humanity that you’ve always been.”

You place the back of your hand against his forehead. His fever is raging and he’s shivering more than ever. As you look at him with deep concern, his eyes bore into yours. If one thing stays the same about Levi, is that his ability to make you squirm under his gaze never wavers. He weakly grabs your hand from his forehead and plants the softest kiss to the heel of your thumb.

“Despite the current circumstances, words can’t describe how badly I want to kiss you right now,” he mutters into your skin.

“I know, I do, too,” you smile and your hand drops back onto your lap. A cleansing sigh leaves your lungs. “I think you’re due for more cough syrup.”

He responds as you open the medicine cabinet in the bedroom’s bathroom and carefully pour the recommended dose into a little plastic cup.

“No, I’m fine. I just gotta sweat it out.”

“What? You’re not back in the Underground. Why would you wanna do that?”

“To build immunity so this shit never fucking happens again. Besides, it didn't really help last time.”

“I’m not a doctor, but I don’t know if that’s how it works,” you chuckle as you sit back down.

“Makes sense though, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose it does. Please take this. For me.”

You hold out the syrup for him to take. Extremely hesitantly, he does so. His fingers touch yours and they’re freezing. You watch him as he gulps the red sticky liquid down. His face contorts afterward and he reaches for his water cup and takes a few large swigs.

You’re snapped out of your worried trance when his chiseled torso catches your attention.

“Are you naked under there?”

“Yeah, hot flashes come and go and my pajamas got sweaty and disgusting. Why?”

“Nothing, just asking.”

“If you want to bounce on my dick, sweetheart, all you gotta do is ask.”

A series of coughs wrack his body and your lips press into a straight line.

“Levi, I love you, but you literally look like you’re on the verge of death. Sex is the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“But don’t you worry, I’ll tend to this dick lots when you’re better.”

“Making up for lost time, huh? Looking forward to it.”

You laugh. At least Levi’s libido is completely unaffected even when he’s gravely sick. The grumbling of Levi’s stomach echoes. You both look down. A frown scrawls across your face.

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“How about something light? Bone broth?”

“Sure.”

After heating up a small bowl of chicken bone broth and chamomile tea in just a few short minutes, you bring the items on a metal tray into the bedroom. You watch him intently as he takes careful sips and spoonfuls into his mouth.

“Could I have some Tylenol?” he almost whines. “My skull is fucking pounding.”

“You can’t, there’s already Tylenol in the cough syrup I gave you.”

“Ibuprofen?”

“Ibuprofen can’t be taken on an empty stomach, either. Liquids aren’t enough.”

He rubs his temples, “Fuck...”

“Hey, it’ll get better soon. Just… give it some time.”

It’s not long before the bowl and the teacup are both empty. You take the dishes into the kitchen and load them into the dishwasher hastily. Once you return to the room, Levi is buried under the covers again. You refill his glass of water and sit on the side of the bed and rub his back. He’s trembling again.

You sigh, “Is there anything else I can get you? Or do for you?”

He doesn’t respond. You lovingly pat him on the back twice.

“Okay. I’ll be in the next room if you need me.”

You lean down, peel back the covers a little, and plant your lips to his temple. When you turn on your heel to walk away, his hand wraps around your wrist tenderly. You look down at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“I know what I said earlier…” he trails off, perturbed. “But more than anything, I just… I want you to hold me right now.”

“Okay,” the corners of your lips turn upward. You carefully pull up the duvet and crawl in next to Levi, who is both hot as a sauna and as cold as an ice cube at the same time.

“Would it be too much for me to ask you to be naked?” he asks sheepishly. “Just want to feel you.”

“No, it wouldn’t be.”

You stand back up and shimmy out of your pajamas quickly before lying back down. You adjust yourself so you lay on your back and he lays on your chest. Your arms wrap around him. You hope that in some way that the skin-on-skin sensation accelerates the healing process within his body.

Then it’s silent. For a long time. And just when you think he’s finally asleep, he speaks in a husky tone that makes you jump a little.

“Marry me.”

“W-what?”

“Marry me,” Levi says, followed by your name.

“Whoa… Okay. I think the infection is spreading to your brain, honey.”

“No, I’m serious.”

You laugh quietly as happiness and excitement flitters wildly throughout your limbs.

“Save your proposal for after you get better.”

“Will you say yes?”

“Yes, Levi. Of course.”

“Good. In sickness and in health, right?”

“Yes. In sickness and in health.”

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ellephlox · 9 months

Text

Anchor

Summary: Matt helps you when you're overstimulated at a party.

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader on the autism spectrum

Warnings: Description of panic attack, overstimulation, brief and very indirect reference to sexual assault, profanity.

A/N: I apologize in advance if this doesn't fit with your experience of autism! I just used my own tendencies as inspiration to write this. Thank you so much for the request, anon!

Foggy warned you that his family could be... intense. Not just rambunctious, or extraverted, but more like a crowd of drunken mega-fans when their favorite team won the Super Bowl.

"So I get it if you don't want to come," he said, speaking through a mouthful of poutine. "No pressure at all. It's just a summer barbecue. But the only food there will be lasagna, just so you know."

"Why lasagna?" You sat across from him and Karen at a small, quiet diner after work, with Matt to your left. Sometimes you went to Josie's, purely because it was Matt and Foggy's favorite bar, but on busy days you'd go to this smaller eatery instead. Matt never made a big deal of it, and never said specifically to Karen and Foggy why he always suggested the quieter restaurant on the days when Josie's was brimming with patrons and music, but you knew why, and you'd told him a thousand times how grateful you were.

"Why lasagna?" Foggy repeated. "Uh, because July 29th is none other than the very important holiday, National Lasagna Day?"

"I have a feeling your definition of 'very important' differs ever so slightly from mine," you said. "Sorry. Haven't heard of it. So, you celebrate this because...?"

"Because my dad thought it would be funny and then it kinda stuck. So now it's an official Nelson Family Tradition."

"He's dragged me to some really weird traditions over the years," Matt said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You liked the feeling of being in a cubby of his arms, and you subconsciously leaned in closer to him. There weren't many people you could lean into comfortably, but Matt was one of them. "Careful. Once you go to one, he invites you to all of them. I'm still recovering from the Hammock Olympics."

"What's—"

"Don't ask," Foggy cut in. "It's a long story. But think about it, okay? We'd love to have you."

You weren't keen on going to a lasagna party — or any party, for that matter — but you agreed. Foggy had been your friend for a long time, and you felt that you owned it to him; besides, as much as he claimed his family was rowdy, they couldn't be that unruly.

But nothing could have prepared you for the swarm of Nelsons that spilled out of the house and onto the lawn. They were everywhere: Dancing to music that pumped from a speaker with far too much bass that made you wince. Shooting hoops in the short driveway and bodily ramming into one another, sweat visible under their arms. Hovering over the drinks, pouring from the array of alcohol that was stacked on a folding table.

"How many family members does Foggy even have?" you asked, under your breath, as you slowed slightly. Matt was leisurely tapping his cane next to you, his hand loosely around your arm.

"Based on memory? A few dozen. But..." Matt's brow crinkled. "There's definitely more than five dozen heartbeats here right now."

"More than sixty? How are there so many Nelsons? How are they all even able to attend? Don't some of them have other obligations to go to?"

"If it gets really packed in there, and you want to leave, we can go anytime."

"It's okay. I'll be fine."

"Really, sweetheart." Matt tugged at your arm slightly. "Just showing up is a huge deal for Foggy. We can leave at anytime, and no one will judge us."

You smiled at him. "You're the coolest guy ever, you know that?"

Walking up the Nelsons' driveway, you hoped that you and Matt would just melt into the crowd, but instead Foggy caught a glimpse of you and waved wildly. Wonderful. You put a wide smile on your face, though, and waved back stiffly. Awkwardly. Maybe no more waving for me.

To distract yourself from the heat already rising in your face, you began to narrate to Matt. "Foggy's up ahead of us. Drinks are all on the left. Lemonade, I think, apple cider, vodka, wine. And... what looks like a cheese board? There's also a lot of chalk all over the driveway. Hop scotch, body outlines, and genitalia, I think."

"Hopefully the last isn't courtesy of Foggy."

"I don't think so. Foggy is—"

"Behind you, and delighted that you came," Foggy said, coming up from behind and hugging you. You stiffened, unprepared for the embrace, but he bounced back quickly, his face flushed with the heat of the day. "Happy National Lasagna Day! I'd recommend getting in there before the Twisted Teas are gone."

In the corner of your eye, you could see someone reaching over to turn up the volume on the music. The bass thumped out of the speakers with even more force, and simultaneously a baby started wailing only ten feet away from you. You tensed slightly, resisting the urge to simply turn around and walk away from this party. For Foggy. For Foggy, I'll stay here and enjoy myself as much as I can.

Matt must have sensed it, because his hand crept to yours and squeezed. "Drinks nearby?"

"Yeah, about five feet to your left," Foggy said. "I'll read you the options. Hey, Y/N — my mom wants to meet you." At your bewildered look, Foggy raised his hands. "I don't know why. I'm just the messenger. She's inside, in the kitchen right now, and all she said was she wants to talk to you once you get here."

"She wants to talk to me?" The prospect was alarming. So was the idea of leaving Matt's side in a swarm of people like this. But you had no choice, because Mrs. Nelson suddenly waved from the front door, as though she'd sensed your arrival, beckoning you inside.

"She's waving me in," you said, panicking slightly. "Foggy, are you sure she meant me?"

"Positive. Sorry. She's going to pry, but don't feel obligated to tell her your darkest secrets. I think she likes the idea of having a girl to chat with about Matt and me."

Dear God. Please let this not last long. You reluctantly parted from Matt, and made your way into the brightly lit, maximist-style interior of the Nelson home. Knick-knacks and assorted tchotchkes surrounded you as though you were in an antique shop.

"Y/N!" Mrs. Nelson appeared again, her face round like Foggy's. You started to extend a hand, but she went right in for a hug — so that's where Foggy gets it from — and squeezed you. Limply you stood there, awkwardly reaching to hug back with one arm.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Nelson," you said. "Can I help with anything in the kitchen?"

"Don't be silly, that's not why I asked you in here. I want you to give me intel."

"Intel?"

"On Matthew! You're dating him, aren't you?"

"Oh — I—"

"We've known Matthew since he was a first year in law school," she went on, picking up a knife and chopping at a carrot with dextrous agility. "That boy doesn't ever settle down. But now he's met you, and I want details!"

"Um..." You averted your gaze. She hardly blinked at all, and it was unnerving. Instead you focused on the dripping faucet, and then the picture frames to your left. Foggy in college, Foggy with his siblings, a family portrait outside of Acadia National Park. You finally compromised and settled your gaze to the corner of her left eye. Close enough. "Well, we met about a year ago. Matt's always just understood me, and I guess we got along well with conversation, so here we are."

"You thinking of getting married?"

I barely know this woman, and she wants to know about my relationship. Your stomach was clenching at what you'd say, and it didn't help knowing that Matt was certainly listening to every word of the conversation. "I don't — I mean, I'm not really... I can't say. Not because I don't know, but because that's between me and Matt, mostly." Shit. Was that too harsh? You assumed it wasn't, because Mrs. Nelson went right on smiling.

The door slammed as someone else came in. You whirled around, hoping desperately it was Matt, but it was some unnamed relative who had the distinct Nelson features and a cigarette in his hand. He lit it, breathing in deeply, and exhaling smoke into the air.

"You know I don't like you smoking inside, Ben," Mrs. Nelson said, shooing at him.

"Sorry." Ben didn't stop smoking. You winced as the smell of cigarette smoke wafted up to you, and glanced at the closed window. That air Ben was exhaling — it was now in your lungs, and you could feel it tickling your throat. The more you thought about the fact that you were inhaling his air, the more restless you felt. The smoke curled through the air, and breezed against you as he sucked on the cigarette again. Surely it was now going to cling to your clothes for the rest of the day. You'd be able to smell it, you knew. And Matt would be able to smell it too, which would make it a hundred times worse because now you felt bad—

"Y/N?"

Your head snapped back to Mrs. Nelson. "Sorry?"

"I wondered if you'd like to hold the baby. She's fourteen weeks old today. I can ask Susan to bring her in for you."

That's the very last thing I want to do, actually.

You struggled for an answer, and finally landed on an excuse. "That's very kind of you to offer. But I think I've got to go back out," you said, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder and plastering a gracious look on your face. "I want to find Matt and... introduce him to someone."

Please don't ask who.

Fortunately, Mrs. Nelson didn't question you at all. "Oh, of course! I won't keep you."

Yes, please don't.

You hurried out of the kitchen, not realizing you were holding in a breath until you were in the mercifully clean, smoke-free air outside. The downside was that in the time you had been indoors, the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, and metamorphosed the already humid day into a blistering sauna.

You found Matt standing in the direct sunlight with some of Foggy's brothers. There was no shade to be found, and you mourned your decision to not put on sunscreen today as you joined his side and resisted the urge to hoist the back of your cardigan over your head like a parasol. The sweltering sunshine was so intense that you felt as though you could feel your skin burning second by second.

They all laughed — at what, you weren't sure — but it rang in your ears, nearly making you screw up your face. How was Matt handling this? Surely it was bothering him more than it bothered you. Yet he had a placid expression on his face, holding his cane loosely with one hand and sipping on a beer with the other.

"Last call for the cheese board," Foggy said suddenly. "And Mom says it'll be another two hours until supper, so grab some Swiss and Muenster now or forever hold your hunger."

Your stomach felt as though it were curdling. Two hours? It was already an hour past when you usually had lunch. Two more hours was frankly terrifying. And the only thing standing between you and the two-hours-out-lasagna was... cheese.

"Want to make our way over there, then?" you asked Matt, as casually as you could. There was no sense in letting him know you were stressed. He was having a good time, that much you could tell, and the last thing you wanted was for your discomfort to bring down his day.

Matt went with you to the table, and only when you were out of earshot of Foggy and his brothers did he speak. "Hey. You doing okay?"

"I've been better. I've been worse." There was no sense in trying to lie to him. "Let's just grab some cheese. I didn't realize lunch would be so late, or I would've had something at home."

But just before you reached the table, a girl of about eight or nine years ran in front of you, and dug both hands — both hands, two hands with chalk and dirty visibly staining them — into the platter of cheese, scooping out a handful for herself.

"Ella!" her mother snapped, a few feet away. "You've had enough. No more cheese."

The girl obeyed, tossing all the cheese slices back into the platter and running away cheerfully. You stood stock still, frozen in your spot.

Matt cocked his head slightly. "Still hungry for cheese?"

"Why?" you managed. "Why, why, why? Who just touches all the food then dumps it back in?" The cheese was too tainted now. Wistfully you looked at it, then at your watch. One hour, fifty-six minutes left. And that was if Mrs. Nelson served the lasagnas on time.

"I think that the Nelson household is your new nemesis," Matt said, pulling you in towards him. "Anything I can do?"

"No," you said, fighting to keep yourself optimistic. For Matt, for Foggy. "Thank you, though."

"We can imagine we're in a version of the Hunger Games. Except instead of bloodthirsty teens, we're surrounded by small talk and cigarette smoke."

"You knew?"

"Smelled it right away." Matt took your arm again as you made your way back to the circle of Nelson brothers. "And figured you were having the time of your life in there."

"Ha."

"If it makes you feel any better, all their stomachs have rumbled in the past half an hour," Matt said softly, nodding his head in the direction of Foggy's brothers. "You're not the only one who's disappointed that lunch is two hours out. And..." He shifted so that his right ear was facing Foggy. "It sounds like Foggy really, really needs to pee right now."

You let out a laugh. "Information I didn't need to have."

Matt only smiled as you both rejoined the circle.

You thought you'd make it until lunch. It was only two hours, you kept telling yourself, it wasn't long. Not much longer in the sun. Not much longer you'd have to stand there while Ben lit another cigarette nearby and the wind carried the smoke right into your face. Not much longer that the Nelsons would keep getting drunker and drunker and their laughs more raucous. And, certainly, it wouldn't be much longer that the music was blaring, pumping through your ears to rattle your very bones.

And then everyone grouped together, for one large family conversation, and you found yourself being jostled into the middle of a massive, warm crowd of Nelsons, shoulder-to-shoulder with people you'd never met before. The panic you had kept at bay so far began to swell like a tsunami under the surface of tranquil waters, thudding in your heart and moving up to your face. Too warm. The sun beat down, not a cloud in sight. All of the little kids were next to you now, singing and jumping up and down, and—

One of them sneezed, and with horror you felt droplets of mucus land on your right arm.

"I have to go," you gasped to Matt, slipping backwards out of the crowd and making a beeline for the house. Bathroom. You needed a bathroom.

But the final straw was the bathroom itself. Another speaker sat in the windowsill, projecting music loudly to the backyard, and it smelled like someone took a shit in there, making you gag and turn around—

Straight into Matt.

"Matt," you whispered. "I can't. I can't do this."

"Sweetheart—"

"It's too much. I've tried, but I can't, they're sneezing and laughing and dancing and I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Because I'm ruining your day!" You crossed into the hallway and sat on the bottom of the stairs, rubbing your hands over your face and hair, again and again, as though to get the sound off. Only then did you realize with horror that you hadn't yet washed your arm, so you leapt up to run to the sink. Matt followed you, nimbly stepping over the clutter that was strewn on the floor. "If you didn't have me at your side, being a leech, you'd still be out there, laughing with them and sipping a beer. And — and you've got the hearing of a fucking bat, but you're able to tolerate everything, while I just throw a tantrum like a two year old." You were near tears, the truth of your own statement ringing into the kitchen. Because it was ridiculous, wasn't it? Matt's hearing was incomprehensibly better than yours, and so was his sensitivity to the sun and the cigarette smoke, and yet it didn't seem to touch him at all.

He reached out, and you thought he was going to shut off the faucet, but instead he ran his hand under the water, took the soap, and began to rub at your arm slowly, up and down. You stood still, your own hands dripping, and allowed him to remove whatever snot might still be on your skin. Finally he lowered his fingers, and took a clean washcloth from the cupboard under the sink. Starting with the top of your arm he dried off every last bit of water, working his way downward.

"Last night, out in the suit, I came across a frat party," he said, finally drying off your hands and setting the cloth on the edge of the sink. "Over seventy people were there. And there were roofies being handed out, like hors d'oeuvres, so that the guys could take advantage of whoever they wanted. I went in, shut it down. Went into the bedrooms and stopped a couple of them in the act. But the whole time, they had this heavy metal music blasting, and the house was filled with the smell of weed. It was dusty in there, too. Every breath I drew in, I could taste it, and feel the grit of it."

You remained silent and let him do the talking. His voice was low, pleasant; a welcome distraction from the voices and radio outside.

"It set me off," he continued. "And even afterwards, I could still hear it ringing in my ears, and could still feel the layer of dust on my skin. You know what helped me to snap out of it?" He raised his hand and gently cupped your face. "You."

You vaguely remembered Matt crawling into bed with you the previous night, and pulling you in close, but as far as you remembered, you hadn't even said a word. "Me? But how—?"

"You're my anchor." Matt's hand dropped. "You. When everything is too loud, I listen to your steady inhales and exhales. Your heartbeat. When the scents are too much, all I have to do is breathe in your shampoo and detergent. Your skin, your hair, your body... it's the only thing that I want to always be with. You're always my anchor. And I know you're strong enough to do all this on your own, but if you ever need me to be, I'll be your anchor, too. Just say the word, and we can leave this party. We can stay in all weekend and do nothing but order in takeout and watch movies. We can drive twenty hours north and stay in a remote cottage for a week. And if you need a break from me, I'll take off until you're ready. I'll always be your anchor, always, if you want me to be."

You closed your eyes, your heartbeat slowing; it was as though someone had dialed down the music outside. Matt seemed to notice the relaxing of your posture, because he tilted his head against yours, and breathed, "That's my girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, wrapping your arms tentatively around him. "And I never want a break from you. Never you." At your motion, his own arms embraced you tightly, as though he'd been waiting for the indication that you wanted to hug.

"And something else," Matt said, after you pulled apart. Without looking he reached behind him towards the fruit basket and plucked out two bananas. "I'll pay Mrs. Nelson back for these."

You broke out in a smile and took one of the bananas. "Keep guard so no one walks in on us chowing down alone in here like two bizarre monkeys?"

He leaned against the counter next to you as you peeled the banana. "Always."

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #reader insert #mcu #reader #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x autistic!reader #fluff #autistic!reader #autism #neurodivergent #neurodivergent!reader #overstimulation

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mistywaves98 · 1 year

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✧･ﾟ:* ->Yandere! Al Haitham x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->Week (part) 2 of my 400 followers special! I forced myself to finish this with like 0 motivation so I apologize in advance for anything that seems a little odd

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Non con turned dub con, y'all are implied to be friends, implied belly bulge, gets kinda soft ngl, yandere themes, dark themes, NSFW thoughts, I think that's it!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

He saw you around the akademiya from time to time, from what he could make out, you were rather lonely, not really mingling with everyone else. He couldn't help but pity your attempts at socialising, often getting ignored when trying to interact with anyone, but he was sure you'd manage someday.

It was surprising when you came up to him one day and shyly asked if it was okay to sit with him, especially since there were other empty benches right next to him, but he still nodded in silent approval, wondering if perhaps you were hoping to try befriending someone again and in all honesty, he just wanted to read his book, but he assumed you would probably give up after a few minutes so he let it slide.

His suspicions were proven correct when you tried to start a conversation, however, it seemed you caught on to the fact that he wasn't really interested in talking so you quickly added that it wasn't necessary for him to speak if he didn't want to.

Al Haitham didn't really think of you to be a chatterbox but people can really shock you sometimes, don't they? You rambled on and on and he was surprised to find himself listening more than he thought he would. When you wrapped your little rant up and bid a him a sweet good bye, Al Haitham found a small part of him hoping you would come back again.

As the days turned into nights and the nights turned into days eventually a few weeks had passed since that first 'meeting' and you had grown much closer to him since day one, you've also had a chance to come over to his residence and even met his roommate.

It had become a daily thing for you two to hang out now and Al Haitham had grown to look forward to your chattering, your voice was so lovely and soothing. Occasionally, he would steal glances at you from behind his book, taking in your happy expression, the way your hair seemed to frame your face perfectly whenever there was a breeze, sometimes trailing his eyes a little lower to admire the way your clothes hugged your figure perfectly...and those sweet tits, they look so soft...he wanted to squeeze them so bad....hm, can you repeat that? He also can't deny the fact he couldn't help but feel a bit jealous when you rambled or even just spoke to anyone else that wasn't him, guy or girl.

He hid those feelings well though, when it seemed he was just focused on reading his book, he was, in reality, seething silently at how well you were getting along with his room mate.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, he couldn't. You were on his mind 24/7. Not to mention how every time he saw you, he resisted the urge to pin you down and take what he really wanted. It was even starting to affect his work, everytime he picked up a piece of paper, he felt as if he was seeing your name written all over it, every face seemed to resemble yours and he swore he saw you walk by from the corner of his eye.

You also noticed he'd become more clingy than usual, insisting that he accompany you to things you'd have never thought he would be interested in. To be honest though, he really didn't care about where you were going, he just wanted to make sure no one tried anything on you.

It gradually became kind of suffocating, you needed some space and you were hesitant to bring it up at first but all you got was a simple nod of acknowledgement, much to your relief. However, whenever you did go out without him, Al Haitham made it clear that you were to come back to his abode before going to your own. Upon arriving, he'd be all over you, hand holding your face tightly as he checked for, what he claimed, 'bruises' (he was actually looking for signs of you hooking up with anyone).

Although it was better than having him follow you around, which he still did at times, you still felt as if you had no privacy. Like if something or someone was always watching and listening to you as you went about your daily life. It made you paranoid. You became anxious and jittery, jumping at the slightest things.

Everytime you were around him you felt uneasy, as if his eyes were always on you, even if he appeared to be busy with other things.

Al Haitham, on the other hand, was secretly smiling at the way you were slowly withdrawing yourself from others, whether you were aware or not, it was only a matter of time before he had you where he wanted you.

When a fellow classmate invited you to see a performance in the Grand Bazaar, he urged you to go (even if it meant you'd have to be with someone else), it would help you relax your nerves after all and relieve some tension. You decided to take his advice with a small smile that twitched slightly when he reminded you to make sure and pay him a visit first before heading home.

While you were gone he managed to get a very bewildered and confused Kaveh out of the house for a while. After tidying up a bit he decided to sit down and wait.

Al Haitham's head snapped towards the door as soon as he heard it creak open, revealing your slightly disheveled form. He was all over you in an instant and his eyes narrowed as he inspected your neck, fingers lightly tracing purple and red marks that could only be described as lovebites.

"What were you doing there?" his voice was low and dangerous as you nervously responded with,"nothing," "Don't lie to me" he grabbed your jaw with one hand, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Possessiveness and anger swirled around in them as his glare never faltered. "I-it was just a simple hook up! We didn't even do more than a little making out... but besides, why would that be a problem?!"

"Because. You. Are. Mine."

With that, his lips met yours in a rough kiss. Your hands flew to his shoulders, trying to push him away, but you were too weak. Instead, he pinned you against the door with his body as his tongue pried your mouth open.

The hand holding your jaw travelled down to close itself around your throat as the other cupped your clothed breast, giving an experimental squeeze before brushing his hand over your nipple, feeling it harden through the thin fabric. "No bra? Are you sure you did 'nothing'? Dirty whore."

His hand quickly left your chest area to part your legs that were practically glued together at that point. Two fingers rubbed your pantie-covered pussy, making you whimper and try to close them, but the tightening grip around your throat made you stop. After collecting enough of your slick on his fingers, Al Haitham brought them up to your eye level.

"Look at how wet you are, just from a little make out session, I doubt you would've wanted to stop here, or do you?" Tears formed in your eyes from the embarrassment as you lightly shook your head. "I thought so." Those same fingers were shoved into your mouth as the skirt you were wearing was hiked up to your stomach, revealing a pair of pretty green panties with a leaf pattern covering it,"This was my favourite pair, a shame I'll have to do this." Your eyes went wide as the sound of fabric ripping met your ears.

"Do you think you need to be prepped? Or are you too eager to have a man's cock inside you?" Your mind was filled with fear as you heard him unbuckling his belt. "W-wait, please..." "Please what? I'm sure you can take it, right?"

Tears fell from your eyes as you felt him push it in once he was lined up with your hole. Even though he eased it in slowly, the burn was painful, your nails dug into his muscular biceps as you squeezed your eyes shut. Al Haitham's hand came up to wipe away the tears as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your moans were occasionally interrupted by uncontrollable hiccuping from crying as he began thrusting. His thrusts were as deep as they were gentle and you could see the tip of his cock kiss your cervix everytime. He was so big and you knew there would be a bulge in your stomach if you dared to look down, which you didn't.

You hated how you were getting closer and closer to orgasming, you hated how you felt yourself clench around him even tighter as he praised but at the same time degraded you,"Look at you, taking my cock so well like the slutty bitch you are—fuck, you're so tight, are you seriously getting off on being fucked like this by your friend?"

Eventually you came undone with a cry of ecstasy, your legs spasming and mouth ajar, vision gone white for a moment. Al Haitham didn't stop though. "Please stop, 'm still sensitive—n'more..." "You really thought we're done? You must be dumber than I imagined. I haven't had my pleasure yet and we aren't going to be finished until then."

#✧･ﾟ:* meena's memorable moments! ✧･ﾟ:*#smut #x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #yandere #genshin impact x reader smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader smut

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sargeant-bxrnes · 2 years

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all yours, always was. [austin!elvis x reader.]

summary: where you and elvis are past the friendship point by plenty of nights together and kisses shared, but not quite in the lovers stage yet. one day, you decide to push too far, and elvis snaps. turns out, that’s was what you wanted all along.

warnings: friends with benefits, possessiveness, jealousy, elvis being a condescending jerk, tbh. | SMUT: dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected & semi-rough sex. [this is nasty, and i’m not even sorry]

word count: 4.9K [went overboard w this, oops.]

my masterlist!

my requests are open!

What began as nothing but a one-night stand after a successful concert, turned into a friend with benefits situation over a few months.

Elvis couldn’t get enough of you, and he’d turned you into quite the insatiable little thing since the first time he had you.

It was all secret, though. To the public and his fans, Elvis was single and ready to give an opportunity to a lucky fan.

Safe to say, (because it always happens in situations like this one)… over time, things between Elvis and you had started to get messier and much more difficult to handle.

You had started to look away whenever Elvis got closer to the crowd to flirt with random fans, not enjoying the sight — and Elvis had begun to notice the way his fist tightened unconsciously whenever any man dared to approach you, even when he was around.

That’s when it all clicked, fans expected flattery and men flirted with you because of a simple reason… you two were a secret. No one had a clue of what happened behind closed doors.

And the worst part? Elvis and you were just friends, right? So why get mad whenever someone else attempted to make an advance? Didn’t make an ounce of sense, and you both knew it.

Elvis had been getting ready for that day’s concert when he saw you, he’d been humming a tune but immediately stopped when his eyes landed on you and the summer dress you wore, the material fitting your body in all the right places, making you look truly dashing, just as he imagined you’d look when he bought the dress for you. You were breathtaking.

On the other hand, you were distracted looking around the stage, the place was huge and you couldn’t help but feel proud of Elvis, the place had sold out entirely, not a single seat had been left available. People truly loved him and his crazy ass dance moves.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned around. It took you a couple of seconds to find him, but eventually you spotted Elvis’ face peaking next to the curtain, not wanting to be seen by anyone else but you, even if the fans weren’t there yet, he wanted to be discreet.

He smirked at you, his eyes shamelessly trailing over your body before returning his gaze to meet yours, his intentions clear behind those beautiful blue eyes of his as he bit his lip.

He liked the dress. He really liked it. But not as much as he liked the woman wearing it.

You licked your lips and sighed, he made a come hither motion with his fingers, and now that the intention had been set, you perceived the lust lacing his smile.

With half your mind on it, you began walking amongst the growing crowd towards the backstage door, his guards recognized you by now.

You only took a couple of steps before you felt someone touching your arm softly, to get your attention, though.

Turning around, you met a soft-looking man, warm brown eyes, curly hair, boyish smile. You didn’t know him, but something about his presence made you feel at ease, he seemed sweet.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he apologized, a nervous sigh escaping his lips. “I just saw that dress and… god, you’re really pretty, I had to talk to you.”

“Aw, thank you!” you said with a genuine smile, your hand falling to his arm. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

You knew what you were doing, of course you did. But it was time to test the waters, to see how far and deep you could go before Elvis snapped and either dragged you back to shore, or let you drown in your stupid actions.

Truth is, you were done with being his fuck-buddy, you wanted so much more, and if he wasn’t willing to bring the matter up by himself, you’d give him a little push, then.

Knowing that you were within his range of view, you kept the conversation and managed to give it a flirty twist, knowing fully well that Elvis was watching closely, and oh, he was hating every single second of it.

Elvis felt a warm, burning feeling invading his insides, it began in his stomach and spread all over his chest, leaving an uncomfortable feeling, making him dig his fingernails into his palm and his jaw tick.

He didn’t like what he was seeing. He wasn’t happy with the way you were smiling up at the man, or how he was looking at you, and God, he hated to see your hand on the man’s arm, fingers slightly squeezing his bicep.

It was too much to take, so before doing something stupid that could ruin his career and push you away, Elvis walked away from where he was standing.

“Gotta get back before my sister realizes I sneaked in without her,” the man, whose name was Alex, chuckled. “I’ll call you later, though.”

“Sure!” you said with an amused smile, although you weren’t sure what amused you more, his timid attitude or the fact that you probably wouldn’t be available later. “See ya, Alex.”

The man walked away, looking back at you at least twice before he made it to the exit and back to the hundreds of fans lining up to enter the arena.

With a satisfied smile in your lips, you turned around and made your way to were Elvis had been standing, he wasn’t there anymore, though.

You had no issues making it to the backstage area, and soon enough, you found yourself in front of his dressing room door.

“Come in,” Elvis’ deep voice welcomed you as soon as you knocked the door three times, letting him know it was you.

When you walked in, you were greeted by the glorious sight of him wearing his full concert attire, his hair styled as always, some strands falling to his forehead as the sides remained slicked back.

He looked really handsome, you couldn’t lie. The color of his suit brought out his gorgeous blue eyes, and the cologne that invaded your senses made your knees weak.

You probably would’ve knelt for him if he asked you to.

“Who was that?” he asked nonchalantly, focusing his attention on combing his hair in front of the mirror.

“Who?” you asked, genuinely confused for a couple of seconds before you caught up. “Oh, Alex?”

“So he has a name, then.”

Oh.

“I just met him,” you hurried to attempt to explain yourself, even though you had no reason to. “He liked my dress and—“

“Bet he liked it,” Elvis scoffed, looking at you through the mirror reflection. “He’d have to be blind not to, baby.”

“Elvis…”

“You can’t go ‘round, talkin’ to strangers.”

“What?” you grimaced at him, not getting his argument. He was being senseless.

“We ain’t sure of his intentions,” he explained, though the way he clenched his jaw was a sign that he didn’t feel like explaining his reasons to you. “He could be dangerous.”

You scoffed at his words, and the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by him, for he turned around to face you, his jaw set and a single eyebrow raised, silently questioning you.

“He was nice, you know? And kind too,” you said with a simple shrug, acting innocent to his accusations. “He asked where I bought my dress, just that.”

“You told him I bought it for ya’?” he questioned, voice demanding an answer. “that I bought it for you jus’so I could rip it off your body whenever I wanted?”

“Of course not.”

“‘Course not,” he echoed your words, slowly wetting his lips as he looked down at his shoes before raising his head again, holding now a new composure.

“It would’ve ruined the conversation.”

“Why is that?” he ironically asked and didn’t even let you speak before he continued. “Oh right, ‘cause you were flirtin’ with him.”

Despite the soft tone and smile that decorated Elvis features, you could see past that and notice the annoyance he truly felt, he wasn’t happy with you, or what you’d done.

“So what if I was?” for the first time in all the time you’ve known the man, you talked back without a drop of hesitation.

Elvis was speechless, and it showed in the way both his eyebrows raised as he opened his mouth to say something, except that nothing came out. He thought he had the situation under control, that he had you right where he wanted— but then you went and said that.

“What do you mean ‘so what’?” he was about to go on a rant, but you interrupted him before he could even get started.

“I’m not yours, Elvis.”

Elvis stared at you silently, and that was more dangerous than anything he could’ve said. He was glaring at you, but within the waves of anger, you perceived swirls of lust deep in his blue eyes. He nodded his head slowly as he looked away, clicking his tongue as his eyes fell back on you, looking at you one last time before turning around.

You had poked the wrong tiger.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he rasps, his back fully turned to you. “The show is ‘bout to start, I can’t think straight with ya’ in here.”

“I- okay.“ you knew better than to argue with him.

“But you better be here by the time I get back.”

You nodded your head and silently made your way out, planning on sneaking into the crowd as soon as possible.

Elvis, on the other hand, was set on showing you just how wrong you were.

Elvis tried to not let what happened get to him. He tried to act normal. — The fans carried no guilt, right? So why should he behave any differently with them?

That was his thought process during the first 15 minutes of the show, he acted as his usual self, smiling, singing, swaying his hips at the beat of the music and sending ocasional flirty looks at random women on the audience to make them scream and blush.

He was trying his hardest to avoid looking at you, which you noticed.

He was doing a great work at pretending you weren’t there, but it was a genuine struggle. Elvis was so used to seeing you in the crowd, to finding your eyes with his, that it felt wrong to pretend you didn’t exist.

So, he acted mature and looked at where you stood.

And, remember when he was being decent? All those thoughts of decency got thrown out the window when he saw that fucking guy, Alex, standing next to you and whispering something into your ear— right in the middle of HIS concert.

From there on, there was no way for him to deny his sour mood.

The rest of the concert he spent dancing almost aggressively, singing certain songs with spite, and joking around, though it’s worth to mention his jokes were condescending, sarcastic even.

Anyone who knew him well enough could tell he was mad. And of course, you were the first one to notice. — Hard not to, considering he glared your way several times along the show.

Once the show was half a song from being over, you sneaked away from Alex’s presence and made your way discreetly to the backstage, to where Elvis expected you to be.

You only had to wait for 10 minutes before he walked through the door, sweaty, with heavy breathing, reddened cheeks and messy hair.

He was truly a sight to behold.

His eyes fell on you once, and that was more than enough to coax a smile out of your lips. A satisfied smile, at that. And boy, didn’t that piss him off even further.

He clicked his tongue and silently walked to the door, placing his big hand around the handle to close it shut, to get the privacy you’d certainly need.

“We gotta leave in 5!” A voice called down the hallway, right when Elvis was about to close the door.

Elvis audibly groaned and rolled his head around, closing his eyes and lowering his head as he exhaled heavily. What he wanted to do would definitely take more than 5 minutes.

Right when you were about to ask if he was okay, Elvis spun around to face you, a determined look in his eyes as he took a step closer to where you sat, offering you his hand.

“Let’s go,” he said angrily, not even looking at you but keeping his hand extended to you.

He was being a walking contradiction, and it’s safe to say you were slightly thrown off due to how he was handling the situation, but you knew that the best thing would be to listen to him.

You accepted his hand by taking it, he pulled you up with enough strength to make your body bump against his. He let go of your hand seconds after, but made sure to place it on your lower back as he walked you both to the exit.

People rushed left and right to pick up the scenario utilities, some of them stopped to take a glance at Elvis, but kept to themselves when they took notice of the way the singer’s bad mood— the way he pushed you around being proof of it.

You wanted to at least say goodbye, but Elvis couldn’t have cared less, when he felt you stopping and noticed the group of people in front, he huffed and applied more pressure on your lower back, forcing you to move.

“Goodbye, Elvis!” someone called, it was hard to tell who.

“Yeah.” he grumbled, walking to a chauffeur standing by the exit of the arena. “Could ya’ give me my keys? The Cadillac ones.”

You’d be leaving in his personal car.

The man seemed confused by the change of plans, but handed him his keys with a nod. Elvis grabbed the keys and hurried you both to the parking space where his car was parked.

Once you were there, Elvis opened the passenger’s door for you, offering you his hand to help you get in, you accepted the gesture while looking at him, but Elvis didn’t spare a glance your way.

When you were inside, he shut the door and walked around the car, getting inside and immediately turning on the car, remaining speechless and not staring at you, acting as if you weren’t there.

That’s when you knew you’d screwed up for real. He was MAD, not even playful mad, just plain out mad.

The drive to the hotel would’ve been peaceful under any other circumstances. But at that moment? The tension could be felt in the air, it emanated from Elvis as intensely as his cologne did.

His grip on your thigh was almost a bit too harsh, and you wondered if the tight grip he kept around the steering wheel didn't hurt his fingers— as his knuckles were white from the strain.

Elvis had always been a very talkative person with you, he always had something to say, an anecdote to tell or an idea to share with you. For that very reason, he knew damn well how crazy his silence was driving you.

But you deserved it.

“Elvis.” you finally said, staring at him as he drove silently.

No answer came from him, and if it weren't for the way his jaw clenched, you would have thought he didn't hear you.

“You know I didn’t mean to upset you, right?” your voice was soft and delicate, small even, devoid of the playful nature you’d had earlier. “I was just messing around.”

“Hm.”

“I didn’t mean—“ you continued, or at least attempted to before he interrupted you curtly.

“Ya’ never mean a thing, do ya’ baby?” he rasped out, an ironic tone bleeding through his voice.

Oh, fuck.

“Your hand just happened to land on his arm,” he kept talking, his grip around the wheel getting impossibly tighter. “Must ‘ave been a gust of wind, that made it land there.”

“I—“

“And that little smirk appeared on your lips, heavens know how, ‘cause ya’ didn’t mean any of it, right?” He was being sarcastic, but his voice and tense frame exuded anger.

“I- I don’t,” suddenly you were feeling very nervous, unable to get a proper hold of your words. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Hm.”

You weren’t sure of what worried you more, his short ‘hm’ or just how angry he sounded whenever he spoke.

But even through his act, you could see the real emotion he felt. He was jealous. And despite the situation, it was a good sign. It meant that the cared about you, that he actually gave a damn whether other people were interested in you or not, that the idea of losing you wasn’t of his liking.

Once at his place, the path to his bedroom was familiar to you, so much so that there was no need to speak or even look at each other, this was destined to end in one place, and one place only.

In his bedroom, Elvis latched the door shut, and still with his back to you, pressed his forehead against the door, and sighed heavily, as if he was trying to relax.

The thought that he might feel sick crossed your mind, after all, the amounts of adrenaline he dealt with after concerts were immense.

And as if he had read your mind, Elvis straightened up and turned to you, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the universe. You felt small under his gaze, and rightfully so.

“I’m so done with this lil game of yours, mama,” he assured you, both hands on his hips to enhance his attitude. “I ain’t playin’ no more.”

“What?” you questioned, genuinely concerned. What if he decided that enough is enough and decided to break things up?

“Get on that bed, right now.” he barked the order at you, nodding his head to the king side bed behind you.

He didn’t have to tell you twice, with your eyes still on him, you took a couple of steps back and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Now what?”

“Imma show you how I’ve owned ya’ since the first time I had ya’.”

He sounded completely sure of his words, the dark look in his eyes was all you needed to know he meant it. Without noticing, you pressed your thighs together, trying to ease the tension.

It only took a couple of long steps for Elvis to be in front of you. Without another word, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, it wasn't a caress or a sweet gesture, his lips moved against yours with desperation, both of his hands were placed at your sides, trapping you between the bed and his body.

With one arm around your torso, Elvis moved you higher on the bed, his body following yours immediately, his lips still against yours.

His hands balled up your dress, trying to get it out of the way without having to separate from you, eventually, he got fed up and ripped the fabric off your body, tearing apart the dress that had started it all.

He slid his tongue inside your mouth, as he opened the clasp of your bra (which was located between your breasts), and threw the clothing piece away.

You fell back to the bed, and he followed suit. Immediately, you felt him hard against your thigh and thought you’d have it your way, however, his lips began to move down to your neck, to your breasts where he sucked and licked till you begged him to do something else, and continued going down and down, sliding your underwear down your legs on his way down, until his head was between your thighs, his face inches away from your pussy.

"I wanna taste ya’." he said, his fingers teasing the sensitive area, brushing against your clit and caressing near your entrance.

"Fuck Elvis, please," you begged and he huffed. "Just fuck me already."

That was tempting enough, but now that he had the upper hand of the teasing game, Elvis found it hard to let go.

"I want to eat you out," he said, caressing your thighs softly to relax you. "you're not gonna turn down what I give you, are you? You’re smarter than that.”

Fuck, that got you.

You opened your legs even more so he'd have better access, and you felt his smirk against your skin, as he placed a little kiss in the inside of your thigh.

"That’s what I thought." he teased, always with his need to have the last word.

He wrapped both arms around your thighs to keep them open and lowered his head, doing his thing.

His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out a moan you were ashamed of, because of how ridiculously loud it had been.

He let go one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder, using his free hand to slide it in between your legs and all the way inside you, while keeping his relentless pace with his tongue.

His fingers buried inside you rhythmically, they curled against your sweet spot right when he sucked harshly on your clit, and his tongue would twirl around as his fingers reached deep.

The sounds you let out, the way you pulled on his hair and clenched around his fingers were clear signals that you were about to cum, so what if he just...

He pulled out his fingers and removed his head from between your thighs, having the perfect view of your face, realizing that he'd denied you an orgasm.

"Elvis!"

"What is it, doll?" he asked innocently, licking his fingers, making your eyes roll to the back of your head in both annoyance and need.

"Just take me..."

“Hm,” he pretended to think about it, before plunging two fingers back inside you, continuing with his ministrations as if he hadn’t stopped at all.

He was doing everything he knew drove you insane. He curled his fingers in the right spot, kept the perfect speed and went so deep that his knuckles would disappear, his fingers coated in your wetness easing the work for him.

“See how well I know ya’?” he questioned, an undeniable cocky tone in his voice, his eyes drinking up on the sight of you, moaning desperately, arching your back as you tried your best to ride his fingers, but to no avail.

You could barely understand what he was saying, so lost in the pleasure, the ecstasy being almost a little too much.

“I know that if I curl my fingers here,” he emphasized his words by curling his fingers inside your pussy, the tips of his fingers pressing on your spot. “and keep ‘em there, you’ll be cumming all over my hand.”

He wasn’t wrong. You felt your release getting closer with every second that passed, and his cocky attitude was only riling you up.

“Please.” you begged, voice raspy after moaning so much.

“Now you’re being nice,” he had a shit-eating smile plastered on his face, a shame you were to fucked out to see it. “ain’t that cute?”

“Please, Elvis,” you begged, saying his name in the perfect pitch to make his dick twitch inside his pants. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Nah, that ain’t gonna happen.” he shook his head, stilling his fingers inside you.

“What?” your eyes widened as you looked at him in disbelief.

“The only way you’re gettin’ off tonite is around my cock,” he assured, pulling his fingers out of your wet pussy with ease. “Do you deserve it, tho?”

“Elvis, I’m sorry… I—“ you didn’t know what else to say, the absence of his fingers inside you being almost painful. “Please.”

He couldn't help but smirk, he had you completely under his control, had you begging and pleading for him, and that made him harder than he already was.

He began to unbuckle his belt slowly, letting the buckle rattle as it opened, slowly pulling the belt out of the loops as he stared at you, devouring your naked body with his gaze.

“Ya’ should consider yourself lucky I won’t have it any other way,” Elvis sighed, pulling down his pants and freeing his dick, which slapped his lower abdomen right after. “It’s my cock or nothing.”

That was a way to ask for permission, he wanted to make sure you wanted this to happen, because despite of how turned on he was, he wanted to be certain you desired him.

You nodded your head repeatedly, spreading your legs open for him, an open invitation for him to delve in. So he did.

A relieved moan left your lips when Elvis buried himself inside you, slipping in easily but still managing to stretch you out deliciously, as if it were the first time.

“You wanna be a good girl for me?” he asked right into your ear, giving you some seconds to adjust to his size.

“Yes, yes, just for you.”

“Then you’re gonna cum when I tell ya’ to.”

For a solid two seconds, you thought you would be able to meet the challenge - however, Elvis started to thrust and all your composure went to shit.

His eyes found yours as he took on a fast, hard, deep pace, the eye contact made you shudder, and a satisfied grin formed on his lips as his hips moved against yours- he felt and looked so good… you tightened your walls around him, causing him to let out an almost feral sound.

His arms caged you against the bed, his lips pressed against the skin of your neck and his pace fastened, your legs were over his thighs, so all he had to do to get a new angle, was to wrap your legs around his waist and push up.

Despite the fact that it was supposed to be some sort of punishment for you, Elvis was doing every single thing he knew drove you insane, getting his own pleasure by bringing yours to your body with every thrust of his hips.

“Such pretty noises you're making for me… am I making ya’ feel good?” Elvis didn't know where he got the control to keep teasing you, since his cock was so deep inside you that its outline surely bulged in your stomach.

“Y-yes, fuck, Elvis, ah-“ you couldn’t even speak properly.

“That’s right, right there, isn’t it?” he said with a satisfied smirk, as his hips thrust at a certain angle that made the tip of his dick make contact with your g-spot. “I am, only I can make ya feel this way, baby.”

“Oh my- yeah, yeah.” you nodded clumsily, probably not listening to a single word he said. And while it was an ego-booster to know he was fucking you so damn good you could barely speak, Elvis wanted you, needed you, to listen.

“Oh, you're enjoying this, aren't ya’?” he slowed his thrusts down to almost nothing, he wanted you to answer properly. “You like when I’m jealous?”

“If you keep fucking me like this,” you mumble, voice raspy as Elvis slows down to a stop. “I’m gonna love it.”

He wanted to be mad. You were making him jealous on purpose, even though you knew how much he hated it— yet couldn't deny your brattiness made him so horny, he wanted to fuck it out of you.

So he did, picking up his pace again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, his lips sucking on the skin below your ear, before kissing your jaw and finally your lips.

“You’re mine, all fuckin mine,” he mumbled over your lips, his cock fucking you like never before, going deeper than ever. “My Y/N.”

“All yours,” you manage to say, your eyes snapping shut as your walls begin to clench around his cock, tighter every time. “always was.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

His pace changed, now his hips moved with a sole purpose. Making you come.

Not too long after, Elvis felt you clenching around him again, your walls tightening around his dick repeatedly, your moans had gotten high-pitched, and he was pretty sure he could feel your nails scratching the hell out of his back.

Knowing you wouldn't be able to resist much longer, Elvis cupped your face in his hand, turning your face so he could look you directly in the eye as he said it.

“Cum for me angel, c’mon.”

And as if your body was trained to listen to his commands, your orgasm came instantly, the wave of pleasure being so intense that your eyes rolled, your back arched and your thighs pressed against his body, your heels pushing against his lower back to drive him deeper inside you, if possible.

Being so deep inside you while you climaxed did it for him, and he shortly followed, spilling inside you as his hips stuttered in between thrusts.

To say you were exhausted was to underestimate the situation, Elvis fell on top of you, as you both caught your breath. He wanted to stay there forever, but it wasn't hygienic.

You were still too lost in the after high to notice he had stood up and walked to the bathroom, and it wasn't until you felt the damp towel between your legs that you reacted with a little hiss, the material of the soft towel making contact with your sensitive pussy.

Neither of you said anything. You were falling asleep, while Elvis thought about how to structure his statement without causing another fight.

Once you were clean, Elvis discarded the towel and walked back to bed, lying down next to you, the sheets felt warm and slightly damp with sweat, but he ignored it, he had more important things to concentrate on.

Your breathing was slowing down, he knew that if he wanted to say something, he would have to say it fast, so he forced himself to speak before it was too late.

“You do know this is so much more than just sex for me, don’t ya?” his voice, unusually small, asked as his eyes focused on the dark ceiling.

“I hope so,” You yawned, rolling your body on the bed to get closer to him, your head pressed against his arm, finding a way to cuddle against it. “Because it sure is for me.”

You were so sleepy, it was hard to know if you were even aware of what you were saying— regardless, Elvis was happy, he couldn’t stop the smile that took over his lips.

“Good,” he grunted and wrapped his arm around you, pulling your body closer so you could rest your head on his chest. “‘Cause I ain’t letting you go.”

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winchesterwild78 · 19 days

Text

Unexpected Hunter Pt 4

Chapter Warnings: fluff, SMUT, mention of weapons, Dean being an ass, safe sex, violence, drug use, alcohol, mention of infertility and pregnancy.

a/n: Sorry got a little carried away with this one. Also, I apologize but what I did with Dean is something I really feel he would do. Especially after losing so much in his life. I cried a little writing this. Sorry in advance. I promise it’ll get better.

18+ Minors DNI

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The next morning you woke up to an empty bed. The door to the adjoining room was open. You got up went to the bathroom and got dressed. Once dressed you walked to Sam and Dean’s room. Sam was sitting at the table on his laptop but Dean and Lexi were gone. “Morning Sam. Where’s Dean and Lexi” you asked him. “Hey, good morning y/n. Dean went to grab breakfast and he took Lexi with him.” Sam said without really looking up. “Whatcha doing Sammy” you asked him. “Just some research into the local area and the victims.” He said. “Can I help with anything. I’d like to learn how to at least research” you said kinda pouting. Sam chuckled and explained how they did their research and how they map things out before they head into any fight. “We try to have as much information as we can so we don’t go in blind” he said showing you the screen.

Just then the door swung open and Lexi came bounding in. She ran up to you and licked you. “Hey girl. How are you. Did you sleep good in that big bed all by yourself” you asked petting her. You looked up at Dean but as soon as you looked at him he looked away. What the hell, you thought to yourself. “Hey Dean I’m showing y/n how to research so she can help us out on cases. Figured you’d want to keep her around” Sam said with a smirk. “Shut it Sammy” Dean said with a growl in his voice. Sam spun his head around and looked at Dean “what the hell man, what pissed in your coffee this morning” Sam said and looked over at you.

Tears were pricking your eyes and your heart was breaking. What happened between last night and this morning. Everything was perfect as you drifted off to sleep. That’s when you realized you told him you loved him. Of fuck, way to screw it up. I probably scared him off. It was way too soon to say it. You looked up at Dean and when you made eye contact with him he grabbed his jacket and said “I’m going to the police station and see what I can find out” and he stormed out of the room. You looked at Sam and he got up and took off after him.

You stood up and walked into your room, called Lexi and closed and locked the door. You needed to be alone. You made love to Dean, gave him all of you, fell in love with him and now he can’t look at you. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. You cried into your pillow and felt the hole in your chest get bigger with every tear that fell. Sam was at the car before Dean could leave. “What the hell Dean. Why are you acting like such a dick this morning. I thought you liked her. Hell you guys have screwed more times in two days than you usually do in a month.” Sam said as he blocked Dean from leaving. “Stay out of it Sammy. My personal life is not your concern. I’ll screw who I want when I want. I don’t need you or her telling me what I can and can’t do. Now move so I can leave.” Dean said through gritted teeth. “No, Dean. I’m coming with you. I have no clue what happened but I’m going with you to the police station. We are still on a case.” Sam climbed in the car and Dean took off towards the station.

After all your tears were done you had a horrible headache. You took some medicine and curled up on the bed with Lexi. You pulled the pillow Dean slept on close to you. You could still smell him on it. Even though he was rejecting you it still brought you comfort. Maybe he’ll talk to me later. You thought as you drifted off to sleep. A few hours later you heard Sam and Dean back in their room. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but you just laid in bed. You couldn’t bear to see him right now.

Then there was a knock on the door. “Please go away. I’m not feeling well” you said trying to control your shaking voice. The knocking continued. You just laid there. “Y/n please open up. Dean’s gone. It’s just me.” Sam pleaded through the door. You walked over and unlocked it. As soon as Sam saw you he wrapped his arms around you and you lost it again. “Sammy what did I do.” You said to him. “Everything was perfect. I let him in. He was so sweet and gentle. I love him. I didn’t mean to tell him. It just came out last night after we made love. Oh Sam, I don’t know how to fix this” you said sobbing into his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay y/n. I’m sure we can fix this. Dean just has so many walls up and when he’s confronted with real feelings he gets scared and reacts. I’ll talk to him.” Sam said while rubbing your back. He placed a soft kiss on your head and told you he’d be back.

Sam left and headed toward the local bar. He knew he’d find Dean in there. Sure enough Dean was sitting at the bar with a whiskey in one hand and a blonde in his other. Sam walked up and made eye contact with Dean and saw he already had finished off three drinks. “Don’t start Sam. I mean it.” Dean said. “Dean, come on man. She’s really upset. You’ve got to talk to her” Sam pleaded with his brother. “Not gonna happen Sam. She should have known it was just a good time. She’s the one who caught feelings” Dean said as he stood up. He grabbed the blonde’s hand pulling her towards the door. “Gotta go baby brother. I’ve got more important things to do” He said with a smirk on his face as the woman giggled.

He headed back to the room with her. He knew you were there but he didn’t care. When he got back to the room he saw the door was open. Lexi came bounding into the room and started licking Dean. You ran in after her and stopped dead in your tracks. There Dean was smelling like whiskey with a woman on his arm. You looked at Dean and your heart broke. Tears started streaming down your face. For a second you thought he was going to say something but he just stood there. Fucking coward, you thought. “Come on Lexi. Let’s leave Dean alone with his latest conquest.” You said as you stormed out of the room slamming the door and locking it.

A few minutes later you heard Dean and the blonde going at it. Your heart broke more and then you felt sick. How could three words do so much damage. You know he felt it. He said he felt something. Was it all a lie. Ugh. The blonde was getting louder with every passing minute. You couldn’t take it anymore. You got up got dressed and went to the bar. You didn’t care who or what came after you. You had to get away from him and his conquest.

When you arrived at the bar Sam was sitting at a table. You walked over to him and sat down. “Hey y/n I guess he took her back to the room “ he said. “Yeah he and the blonde are getting to know each other. I couldn’t listen to it for another minute. I had to leave.” You said. The waitress came over and you ordered a double shot of whiskey. When she brought it you tossed it back and ordered another. Again tossed it back as soon as she brought it. Three double shots later and you were on the dance floor grinding on any guy that would let you. Sam tried to get you to sit down and eat something and sober up but you told him no. There was a tall dark haired man with piercing blue eyes dancing with you and letting you rub all over his body. You decided you were taking him back to your room tonight. Consequences be damned.

You waited for Sam to be distracted and you and blue eyes took off towards your room. You didn’t know if Dean was still in his room but you didn’t care. Blue eyes was on you the minute you closed the door. Clothes were flying around and he was kissing you all over your body. He felt good but nothing like Dean. No, stop it! Don’t think about Dean. You thought to yourself. He threw you on the bed and you landed with a yelp. Before you could say anything he slid a condom on and slid right in. He was rough and not in a good way. Moans filled your room and then he flipped you over on your knees. The new angle was deeper. You started yelling and moaning louder. Not realizing how loud you were.

Blue eyes was grunting loudly and slapping your ass. You heard a loud banging on the door and yelling. At first you couldn’t make it out because your face was in the pillow. You picked your head up and heard “who the fuck do you have in there y/n”. It was Dean banging on the door. Blue eyes stopped and you bucked your hips and yelled “oh fuck, yeah, don’t stop. Fuck me”. You knew Dean could hear you and it pissed him off. He started banging louder. Blue eyes started to stop and you shot him a don’t you dare look. He kept going until he came. Once he did he went to the bathroom and removed the condom and got dressed. “Who the fuck is banging on your door” he asked. “Just some jackass. Ignore him” you said. “Hey babe I’m not getting in the middle of drama. Thanks for the fuck. I’m leaving” he said as he walked out.

Once he was gone you grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around you and went to open the door. Dean was still banging on it. You opened the door and said “what the fuck do you want Dean”. He looked at you and saw you were naked and for a second you thought he looked hurt. “Who the hell did you have in here y/n” he asked as he stormed in your room. “What the hell do you care, Dean. What about your blonde bimbo” you snapped back. He just stared at you. “Dean I want you to leave. I’m not in the mood to fight with you. I know where I stand with you. Once we get back to the bunker I’m leaving. So please leave my room. I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed.” You said not able to look at him. Dean stood there for a minute. His whole world spiraling and he didn’t know what to do. He hurt you bad and he knew it. All he wanted to do was to kiss you and tell you he loved you too but he couldn’t. He looked at you and said “okay, y/n I’m sorry” and he walked away shutting the door behind him. You collapsed on the floor sobbing. God this man frustrated you. Why wouldn’t he fight for you. Did you really mean so little to him. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, got dressed and crawled into bed. You fell asleep after about an hour of crying.

The next morning you woke up with a massive headache. You grabbed water and Tylenol. After about 30 minutes you got in the shower. You got dressed and prepared yourself to see Dean. You unlocked the door and knocked. Sam answered and offered you a hug. “I’m sorry y/n. Dean told me everything. You don’t have to leave. You’re more than welcome to stay.” Sam said. “I appreciate it Sam, but I don’t think I can. It hurts too much. Now let’s dive into this case so you boys can protect this town.” You said sitting at the table. The door opened and Dean walked in with 3 coffees and some breakfast. You looked at him and for the first time since yesterday morning he looked in your eyes. His eyes were puffy and sad. You knew he had been crying and your heart clenched. You wanted nothing more than to hug him, but you stayed put. “I got coffee and breakfast sandwiches for everyone” Dean said in a very quiet voice. “Thank you, Dean” was all you said. He felt his heart clench when you said his name.

After you ate and drank your coffee you dove into the research. You could feel Dean staring at you and when Sam would notice he’d clear his throat. A few hours later you realized a connection between all the missing and the victims. “Oh my goodness guys, look. All the victims are women between the ages of 20-35. Unmarried and of child bearing age. The ones that turned up dead all had noticeable scarring to their uterus which would cause fertility issues. The vamps are targeting women who can have children. They are trying to breed instead of turn. Holy shit guys.” You said breaking the silence in the room. Sam said “so that means they have to be near a hospital or doctor’s office”. He pulled out a map and found the nearest hospital. Right beside it was an abandoned building. He pulled up the deed information and it belonged to a doctor. “Got it. I think this is where they are. Dean let’s go do some surveillance before we head in.” Sam said. Dean stood up and looked at you in awe. You made eye contact with him and almost said something but stopped. You looked away and told them both to be careful. You stood and Sam pulled you in to a big hug and kissed your head. “You’re amazing y/n” he said as he pulled away. Dean just stood there looking a little frustrated and sad. The guys headed out the door and climbed in the car. You sat back down at the table.

Dean got in the car and looked at Sam but didn’t say anything. He wanted to tell him he screwed up and ask his brother how to fix it but he kept quiet. A few minutes later they pulled into a lot near the building. They crept up to it and looked inside. Sure enough there were the missing women and they counted 4 vamps. There was another woman on a bed who wasn’t part of the missing reports they had. She was about 30 and looked very pregnant. Dean looked at Sam shocked. You were right. They were breeding vampires. The brothers headed back to the car to make a plan.

“Okay so I counted 4 vamps and at least 6 women, including the pregnant one.” Dean said. “There has to be another vamp. One that is calling the shots. I think we should wait and see who else shows up. We need to make sure we get all of them.” Sam said as he climbed in the car. Dean wanted to get this over with but he knew Sam was right.

While the guys were gone you started looking for a new place to stay. You had a degree so getting a job wouldn’t be hard, but where would you go. You couldn’t stay near the bunker because it would hurt too much to see Dean, but you loved the area. You decided you would move just outside the area and get a hotel room until you found a permanent place. You sighed because your whole word has been turned upside down since you were attacked. You really thought you found home and found the one. You felt so stupid to have fallen so fast.

You decided to take Lexi for a walk and hopefully clear your head. Grabbing your shoes and the leash you left a note for the guys in case they came back before you. Walking outside the sunlight and fresh air hit you. It washed over your body and it felt amazing. Lexi was excited to be outside and was jumping around. You laughed at her. At least you still have her you thought.

You found a little park and decided to let her run a bit. The part as pretty empty and she really needed to stretch her legs. You sat on a bench and watched her run around you and play. Lexi was a good dog. She always stayed close to you even off her leash. As you were watching her a man sat down on the bench beside you. He was a little older. Maybe early 50s with gray hair and deep brown eyes. He definitely was good looking. You two exchanged some polite small talk while you kept an eye on Lexi. “So you don’t look like you’re from around here” the man said with a voice that sent a chill down your spine. “No, just passing through. I’m gonna be leaving soon” you said. “That’s a shame. I’d like to get some coffee or something with you” the man said. You blushed and for some reason you said you’d like that too.

You took Lexi back to the room and met the mystery man at the local diner.

He was already there when you arrived. You offered him a soft smile and sat down. “I hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and ordered you a coffee” he said as he motioned to the cup in front of you. “Oh thank you” you said as you poured creamer and sugar in the cup. You learned he was a local doctor who grew up here and after med school came back as his way to give back to the place that made him who he was. He told you he had four siblings but no special person or children in his life. He was so easy to talk to. He touched your hand and gave you a smile that made your hair stand on end. Your heart rate picked up. Oh god, was he a vamp? You thought to yourself. “Um, I’ll be back. I’m going to head to the restroom” you said. As you stood up you felt a little dizzy. You made it to the bathroom and tried to call Dean. He picked up and all you could say was “Dean” before you hit the floor.

“Sweetheart, you okay. Talk to me.” Then he heard a thud and the line went dead. “Sam it’s y/n she said my name and I think she passed out. We have to go now!” He said as he threw the car in reverse and took off.

Mystery man had collected you from the bathroom and put you in his car. Nobody questioned him when he carried you out because of course he’s a doctor.

Dean was in a panic trying to get back to the hotel. When they arrived they found Lexi but not you. “Damn where is she Sammy?!” Dean yelled as he punched the wall. “We will find her Dean. Let’s start asking around town. She couldn’t have gone far” Sam said trying to reassure his brother. They got in the car and drove to the stores and restaurants in town. Each place they went to turned up nothing. The last place was the diner. They walked in and the waitress told them to sit wherever. Dean walked up to the counter and said they were looking for their friend. He described you and the woman said “I think she was in here not long ago. She was with Dr Lincoln. He’s so dreamy”. Dean rolled his eyes. “Did you see where they went” he asked full of frustration. “Oh yeah, the poor dear collapsed in the bathroom. Dr Lincoln took her out. I’m sure he took her to his clinic. He’s such a good man. Always taking care of the people in this town.” The waitress said. Dean gave Sam a look. “Where is his clinic” they both asked. The waitress gave them directions and the colored drained from their faces. His clinic is inside the hospital. They thanked her and ran towards the car. “It’s okay Dean we will save her.” Sam said to Dean. “Sammy I can’t lose her. I should have told her. I love her. I’m just scared Sam. Everything I love leaves.” He said choking back tears.

Dr Lincoln arrived at the building and three of the vamps helped him get you inside. “She smells delightful. She’ll make a great addition to our family” one of the men said. Dr Lincoln growled “hands off. This one is mine.” They tied you to the chair and you started to come to. Your head was pounding and you were still groggy. “What, where am I” you asked as your eyes adjusted. You realized you were tied up. Dr Lincoln walked closer to you and smiled. Showing you his fangs. You gasped. “Don’t worry darlin, I’m going to take real good care of you.” He said as his brushed his hands over your neck. He inhaled deeply taking in your scent. Your heart was pounding and all you could think about was Dean. A single tear slid down your face. You didn’t want to die without telling him one last time you loved him.

Dean was driving as fast as he could. When they got to the hospital they took off towards the clinic. The office was closed but Dean kicked the door in. He and Sam searched every room. You weren’t there. “Sammy where the hell are they” Dean asked frustrated. “I don’t know. We will find them” Sam tried to reassure him.

One of the other vamps came over and took a long smell of you. He leaned down and smelled all the way up your body. He jumped back and look startled at mid level. “What the fuck” he said. “Uh boss, we’ve got a problem with this one” All you could think about was the girls who ended up dead because they couldn’t have a baby. This is it you thought. I’m going to die. You closed your eyes and all you saw was Dean’s beautiful green eyes and his smile. “I love you Dean” you whispered. Dr Lincoln came over and the other guy started whispering. “Fuck!” Was all Dr Lincoln said. I should have checked before I took her. I’ll figure out what to do with her.” He said and you opened your eyes. His dark eyes looking at you. “I should have smelled it as soon as I met you. Now you’re useless to me right now.” He hissed at you. “What, what should you have smelled” you asked with a tremble in your voice. “You’re already spoiled. You’re pregnant” he said.

“What, I’m pregnant” you whispered out. Oh my god. I’m pregnant with Dean’s baby. Joy and sorrow filled your heart. You loved him and would want to have his baby, but you aren’t going to live long enough to have it. Oh Dean, I’m so sorry” you thought before everything went dark.

Part 5

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#hes gorgeous #dean winchester #so damn sexy #dean winchester smut #supernatural #vampire

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