#mcu x black!reader

[liyawritesss]

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.

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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!

#black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #black mcu #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #black panther #black panther 2 #black panther x reader #black panther x black!reader #black panther shuri #shuri black panther #shuri #princess shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku x black!reader #princess shuri x reader

[solitaryearthperson]

A Misunderstanding

Summary: Bruce thinks the reader fears him when it's quite the opposite.

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably a person of color.)

"Where's (Y/N)," Bruce asked, his eyes not lifting up from the beaker in front of him as he continued to pour more chemicals in.

"They're getting us coffee. Be here any minute," Tony replied, sitting in a seat not far away from Bruce's table, but still on his side of the lab, casually picking up a vial to play with.

"They're our assistant, not servant," Bruce told him, lifting his gaze and instantly furrowing his brow at seeing the vial in Tony's hands. "Put that back, please."

"I'll put it back, when I have my coffee," Tony told him, to which Bruce rolled his eyes, expecting Tony to be his usual difficult self, even when it's early in the morning.

The sound of the lab doors opening made both geniuses turn to see you entering, holding in both hands, cups of coffee, each one specifically made for them both. "Brought the coffee you wanted."

As Tony quickly grabbed his coffee, offering a quick 'thank you' before putting the vial back in its place, Bruce watched you carefully. He had a suspicion about you from the moment you began working in the lab with them and he wanted to confirm it to Tony.

"Hey (Y/N)," he said, watching your face and examining your body language closely. The second your name came out of his mouth, your body slightly jumped. He darted his eyes over to Tony to see if he was watching, and was quickly satisfied to find that he was.

"Could you just sit mine down, please?" He pointed to a far spot on the table.

He noticed the big gulp you made before nodding your head and making your way to his table and sitting down the coffee cup.

He pretended to pay close attention to the beaker, but really he slightly moved his eyes to your hand as you sat the coffee down and noticed the third sign that his suspicions about you were correct. Even though you tried to hide it, he could clearly see your hand slightly trembling. The fourth sign was revealed to him at the same time as he noticed that the hair on your arm was raised, as if in alarm. Every single time, he thought.

"Hey (Y/N), could you go upstairs, and tell Cap to come down here," Tony asked you, opening a drawer in his desk. "I wanna test something on his shield."

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark," You said, before leaving to do as directed, and Bruce couldn't help but notice the way you left was very quickly, almost as if you were hurrying out to get away from him.

When the sound of the lab doors closing behind you was heard that's when Bruce decided to speak up.

"You saw it, right," He asked Tony.

"Saw what?"

"Literally everything they just did," Bruce said, taking off his glasses and placing them on the table before walking over to Tony's side of the lab, and leaned against his desk. "The jumping, trembling, and even the way they hurried out of here just now."

"What does any of that mean, exactly?"

Sighing, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, already knowing this might be difficult to speak with him about. "They're scare of me."

Tony tried to prevent the grin that wanted to appear and kept his face neutral as he responded, "Scared of you?"

"Yes. I know it."

"And why would they be so scared of you? You haven't hulked out in a while. They've only seen you in your nerdy, scientist attire, not as a green monster. There's no reason to be scared."

"We know why they're scared. Doesn't matter if I've hulked out or not. I'm still dangerous."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Tony sighed knowing that Bruce still wasn't sure of himself being on the team or being in such close proximity to any of them. "Banner, I'm gonna be as honest as I can with you," he said, stepping towards him, and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You are literally the softest person ever."

"Tony," Bruce tried to interrupt him.

"You're basically a teddy bear with glasses. Nothing about you besides Hulk is dangerous, okay?"

Shaking his head, Bruce tried to ignore the growing frustration he was feeling. He didn't know why it bothered him so bad, but it did. Well, that was technically a lie. He knew why it bothered him, but he hoped that working with them for so long could have remedied that. He knows that he should be used to this by now, but knowing that you, of all people, was scared of him made him feel so much worse than any other person would. "I know what fear looks like, Tony, and it looked like they were scared."

"Please talk to them about it, before jumping to conclusions about this. Can you do that?" Tony had seen all the signs that Bruce had seen for a while and had come to understand what they really were, and hoped that Bruce would soon figure it out.

"Fine. I'll talk to them about it."

~LATER THAT NIGHT~

It was close to 1 in the morning, when Bruce looked away from the computer screen at the sound of the lab door opening, and when he turned to see who had entered, he found himself instantly become nervous seeing that it was you.

"Dr. Banner," You greeted him, smiling politely at him.

"(Y/N)," he greeted back. "What brings you here?"

"Mr. Stark told me to come down and check on you. Plus, he said that you wanted to talk to me about something important."

Of course, he did, Bruce thought, moving away from the computer and sitting down next to one of the lab tables. He couldn't help but notice you seemed to be staying far away from his side of the lab.

"Yeah, I did, (Y/N). It's important."

"Okay. What is it?"

"You do know that if you have any fears, any worries about working here, you can voice them, right?"

"Yeah, of course I do," you told him, nodding your head.

"So do you want to talk about you being scared of me?"

"What-What are you talking about?" You stammered, closing some of the distance between you two.

"(Y/N)," Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again to look at you. "Ever since you've started here, you've been jumpy around me and keeping your distance from me. You always hesitate to come up to me, like you're scared I'm gonna hurt you."

A look of recognition and embarrassment came over your face and you opened your mouth to explain yourself to him, but before you could say anything, Bruce spoke again.

"I understand why you'd be feeling this way, but-"

"Dr. Banner, I'm so sorry. This is a big misunderstanding -"

"I promise you're not in any danger with me," he continued.

"I'm not scared of you, Dr. Banner-"

"I have control over the big guy. There won't be any incidents of him coming out-"

"Dr. Banner, I like you," you blurted out loudly, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence.

"What," he asked, a look of surprise and confusion upon his face.

Seeing how shocked he looked, you felt heat come to your face and quickly darted your eyes away from him. You never wanted to tell him like this, but to be really honest, you never wanted to tell him period.

"You-You like... me," he asked, shock and confusion still present on his face. "Why were you being so jumpy and-and weird around me then?"

"I didn't know I was being weird," you confessed, walking around the lab table and pulling a nearby chair to sit down next to him, ignoring the burning in your cheeks and your fast heartbeat. "I didn't know how to act around you, and not show my crush, so I thought I could keep my distance. Thought it would better hide it."

"Oh" was all he said, his face suddenly not revealing what he was feeling anymore.

"Um, if you don't want me to work here in the lab with you now, then I completely understand," you said to him, mistaking his silence as a silent rejection.

"Why would I want that?" He asked, confused. Now that you confessed how you felt about him, he thought that now is a great time to confess his feelings as well. "I like you too."

His confession shocked you and it took a second for you to reply.

"You do?"

"Yeah," he nodded, chuckling softly.

"Oh... Well, would you mind going on a date with me or are you uncomfortable with going with your assistant?" You asked, curious and wanting to make sure that he wouldn't feel too weird about it.

"That depends,...will you jump and keep your distance from me the whole time," he joked.

"No, I won't, Dr. Banner," you replied, laughing softly.

"Bruce," he corrected, smiling at you, making a fluttery feeling begin in your stomach. "Call me Bruce."

"Sure thing,... Bruce," you said, excited to finally go on a date with the man you've been secretly pining for forever. "Sure thing."

#mcu #marvel #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #mcu x poc!reader #mcu x black!reader #mcu x woc!reader #marvel x reader #marvel x poc!reader #marvel x black!reader #marvel x woc!reader #bruce banner #the hulk #bruce banner imagine #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x poc!reader #bruce banner x woc!reader #bruce banner x black!reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x gender-neutral!reader

[prettykittycastle]

She's just a fan

Summary: Frank doesn't like how much of a fan you are of Daredevil.

(The reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

(Content Warning: Multiple orgasms, jealous!Frank, possessive!Frank, mention of Daredevil, dirty talk, doggystyle)

"Quit it," Frank told you for the third time that night, taking a hold of the back of your shirt and pulling on it, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

"Frank," you whined, squeezing the bedsheets between your fingers and trying your hardest to not run from his dick again.

"Shut up," you heard him say before you felt the harsh slap he landed on your right ass cheek. "You like Red so much, say his fucking name."

"Please," you whimpered, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching. "I'm gonna cum again!"

"You gonna cum, huh? Whose dick you gonna cum on? Hmm?"

"Yours," you cried.

"Not Red's?"

"Yours, Frank, yours," you cried out before closing your eyes, letting out another cry as your orgasm soared through your body. The effects of your orgasm reached all the way from your core to your fingertips and your body began to slump forward onto the bed as Frank continued to fuck you through it.

"Fucking soaking me baby," Frank groaned, looking down at himself as he continued to go in and out of you. The feeling of your tight walls squeezing him made him slow his thrusts down, but he still held onto you, making sure you don't try to run from him again.

He was going to make sure you knew who you (and that pussy) belonged to and assure you that it was not and never will be Red or A.K.A. Daredevil.

Few hours before...

"Five gang members were delivered to the police station by none other than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or as some folks know him as Daredevil," the news woman reported. "Like many other times, the masked vigilante was only seen for a brief second outside the station before people nearby claimed to..."

You were getting ready for work when you heard the news about another criminal being stopped by Daredevil. Frank was just getting up, about to make himself breakfast when he heard the TV and found you standing in front of it, already wearing your work clothes, looking at the amatuer photo of Daredevil displayed on the TV screen with the news woman continuing the story in the background.

"What's up," he asked walking up behind you and giving you a quick kiss on your cheek.

The feel of his lips made you turn and look away from the handsome man on the TV and to the handsome man that was in your home.

"Daredevil caught some gang members and dropped them off at the police station before disappearing," you told him, can't help turning back to the TV to see that his photo was still on the screen, only that it was now shrunk to fit in the corner of it.

Raising his eyebrow, Frank couldn't help but notice the excitement and admiration that was in your voice when you spoke about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. The very few times his existence was brought up in the past during conversations, that excitement and admiration was always present then.

He's a hero, she's just a fan, Frank reasoned. That's all...Right?

He noticed the way you were still looking at the TV and felt a spark of jealousy begin in him. No way, he thought. Not fucking Red.

"You're really invested in him," he said, inspecting your body language.

"Yeah, I guess I got a thing for vigilantes," you told him, looking over at him teasingly.

The small grin Frank made was one that was forced as he felt that jealous spark quickly grow to a small flame. You would have noticed how forced the grin was if you weren't paying so much attention to the photo.

"Didn't you fight him before?"

Your question made him clench his jaw in restrained anger at the fact that you were so interested in him.

"Yeah, a while ago. We're on, uh...neutral terms now."

"Did you ever...," you turned your eyes away from the screen and continued getting ready, gathering what you need and placing them in your bag, while trying to ask Frank your question. " see his face?"

"His face?" He clenched his jaw harder and tried to control his voice to not show his annoyance.

"Yeah. Did you ever, like, get the mask off and see his face?"

Even without Karen telling him who he was, Frank had been figured out who the man was behind the mask but kept it to himself out of respect.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, going to the kitchen and fixing himself a cup of coffee.

"What'd he look like?"

The question he was dreading. He wanted you to so badly stop talking about Red, but he was scared that if he voiced it, you would quickly pick up on his jealousy.

"You a fan of his, baby?" He hoped you wouldn't notice him avoiding the question.

"A little. A while back, he once stopped some guys from robbing me."

He furrowed his brow, remembering that you had spoken of seeing him in action once, but never getting the chance to thank him for saving you.

"I guess since then I might have started having a crush on him and maybe become a huge fan."

Asshole. While Frank was thankful that he saved you, he was still pissed off that the altar boy had a place in your heart, even if that place was small compared to his. The fact that it existed pissed him the fuck off.

"Shit, I gotta go," you grabbed your keys and your jacket and quickly made your way over to Frank to give him a goodbye kiss. "Love you."

"Love you, too," he told you, forcing his smile. He watched as you hurried and left and he instantly dropped the smile from his face.

Just a fan. Not like she wants to fuck him or nothing. But she was looking at that fucking picture for a long time.

Frank was a person who, while he did sometimes feel self-conscious about certain things, never actually experienced being insecure. Especially like this. Especially not because of an asshole like Red.

All day it stayed on his mind. How much you wanted to know about Daredevil and how you were such a fan of him drove him crazy. The second you walked through the door from work, Frank was instantly on you, ripping off your (pants or skirt), and quickly fucked you against the closed door. When you finally came, he didn't give you time to ask about his horny-ness and picked you up and carried you to the bedroom where he threw you down on the bed, turned you on your hands and knees, and went back to fucking you.

Now...

"Whose is it," Frank pulling on your shirt harder. Once he felt that your orgasm was ending, he quickened his thrusts again, hitting your G-spot over and over again determined to have you cum again for him.

"Yours," you cried, your legs beginning to shake from the combined effort of holding your body up and the overwhelming pleasure Frank was giving you.

"This pussy belongs to me?" He kept hold of your shirt and grabbed your hip, pulling you against him more.

"Yes," you gasped, the constant fire inside you spread through your body without warning and suddenly your mind was hazed over and the pleasure was too good. So good that you could hardly speak.

"Good girl," he moaned, finally stopped thrusting, feeling your walls squeeze his dick, more of your juices covering him.

The haze over your mind lasted for what felt like minutes, but were really seconds. The fire in your body was still there, but lessened and feeling that Frank had stopped thrusting, you tried to gather the strength you had left in you and try to crawl forward, away from him, specifically his dick.

Taking deep breaths, Frank watched in amusement as you crawled or attempted to crawl away from him. He let you get a few inches away, and finally when he saw that you had gotten far enough that only his tip was in you, decided to reign you back in.

"Where you going," he asked, gently pulling on your shirt. You had forgotten that he was holding it. "Bring my pussy back."

"Please, Frankie," you whined, looking over your shoulder to him, trying to ease his tip out of you, but he wouldn't let you. "Why?"

"You talk bout Red like you want him," he growled out, slowly pushing the rest of his length back into you.

"Aaah!" You screamed, not wanting to, but feeling the fire begin back inside you. "I don't want him. I swear."

"Mmm," he hummed, pushing the rest of his self into you, his tip going straight for your G-spot, causing you to cry out as the fire grew more intense.

"I won't talk about him ever again," you gasped as Frank started back fucking you. Your arms couldn't hold yourself up anymore and you let yourself fall flat on the bed, your ass remaining in the air as Frank continued to fuck you. "I promise I won't bring him up again. Baby, I swear I won't."

"I know you won't," he murmured, feeling your tight, but slick walls squeezing him tighter and tighter with each thrust. "My good girl knows she's mine." His thrusts were beginning to lose their rhythm and was now becoming rushed and you knew that he was close to cumming.

Just like him, you were close to cumming again and you let out little whimpers as he kept hitting your G-spot more and more.

"Where you want it, good girl," he asked, his hips slamming against your asscheeks over and over, making them sore.

It took you a second to answer as the fire inside you quickly became hotter and hotter. "Inside me. Please, Frank."

It only took one more thrust, his tip hitting your G-spot one last time, for you to cum for the last time, but when you did, it felt as if everything around you was suddenly gone and the air was knocked out of your lungs. Your pussy squeezed him so tight and you creamed around him so much that Frank couldn't control himself and he quickly stopped thrusting and came inside you, his thick, hot cum filling you up even more.

"Damn," he groaned, looking down at the amount of cream you left on him. My little creamer, he affectionately called you in his head.

Pulling himself out, he let out deep groan at the sight of some of his cum, slowly dripping out of you.

"(Y/N)," he turned you over and laid you on your side to see that you were trying to catch your breath and regain control of your limbs while your body was still reeling from your orgasm.

"I'll get you some water, okay," he told you, leaning down and gently laying a kiss upon your forehead. "After you're done drinking, I'll run you a bath." He pulled away, got off the bed, and left the room to go get your water and begin preparing your bathwater.

~

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes from your deep sleep was the puppy dog eyes of your Frank. He was laying on his side, looking at you with a peaceful smile, but his eyes looked guilty.

"Hey," you leaned forward and gave him a kiss, which he gladly reciprocated. "Why you look like that?"

"Like what?"

"Guilty," you answered. You suddenly felt the need to pee and pulled the covers back, ready to sit up, but stopped. You frowned as you felt how sore your pussy was and your legs were also sore and heavy. "Shit."

"I might've been a little rough last night," he said, looking sheepish, but you could tell from the blush in his cheeks that he was also a little proud of himself. "Sorry bout that."

"S'fine."

He shook his head and furrowed his brows at you, his guilt now showing on his face. "I shouldn't have been jealous about Red like that. I know you'd never want that asshole."

"It's okay, Frank. I shouldn't be fangirling over him so much. I already have my hero right here."

Your words did exactly what you hoped they would and you smiled as Frank began to blush even harder.

"I already called your job and told them you weren't feeling good today. Whatever you need, let me know. I'll do it for you."

"Can you pick me up and take me to the bathroom, please?"

A proud smile spread across his face and he happily leaped out of bed and made his way over to your side. "Whatever you want, your highness."

#mcu #marvel #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu smut #marvel smut #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x black!reader #frank castle #the punisher #frank castle smut #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #frank castle x black!reader #the punisher x black!reader #black reader #frank castle x poc!reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher imagine

[juniaships]

Disney when they find out i ship their mcu heroes with black women:

#except Loki his wife is White but thats bc im cool with Mia Wasikowska #but yeah Steve; Peter Parker (all three of them); Thor; and Sam are with Black Women #who knows I might pair Bucky and Bruce Banner with some too #AND WOLVERINE AND ANGEL AND SCOTT AND MAGNETO AND HANK AND NIGHTCRAWLER TOO AHAHAHAHAHA #EVEN JOHNNY STORM GOT A BLACK GIRLFRIEND AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA #WE GONNA NIGGAFY THE MCU WHAT THE MOUSE GONNA DO BOUT IT? MAKE A SHITTY METAHUMOR MOVIE ABOUT ME? #FAT FUCKING CHANCE!!! #marvel x black!reader #mcu x black!reader #black self shipper #black ocs #yeah the characters are all Fanmade out my own mind >:}

[apocalypse-shuffle]

TONY STARK | IRON MAN (the mcu | let’s say after Avengers but before AOU | time placement’s a bit iffy)

────────────────────

────────────────────

“Happiest With You” (Tony Stark x Gn!Reader)

| Reader isn’t fond of Steve, and for good reason.

| Reader is always black unless I say differently

| SFW, maybe 16+, no explicit sex but heavy making out & mentions of sexual acts towards the end half - jealous!reader (but it’s unfounded) - you’re cute together

| 4k+ words

You’d only just gotten to the gala and met up with Tony, since he’d invited you to be his plus one, when Rogers ran off and the crowd swept with murmurs in his absence.

Normally this wouldn’t mean much for you, or Tony for that matter since he wasn’t Steve’s goddamn keeper, but it was bad for everyone’s publicity if the leader of the Avengers just ran off without a good reason at a Veterans Ball he was the guest of honor at.

So naturally someone had to go after him, and as all eyes shifted to Tony (including Pepper’s) you both knew it was gonna be him.

You watched your partner go with a huff. With the way Rogers went on around Tony you wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted the man as much as you did. He’d been cool as can be before you showed up, but then Tony had kissed you, the press had gone wild, and he had disappeared outside.

You were a big CEO in your own right so you could recognize the necessity of always sending Tony to retrieve Steve (all eyes were on him after all) but you were also very familiar with what bullshitting looked like.

And Steve Rogers was a very good bullshitter. The man wasn’t that unstable.

Investors tended to try to pull the wool over your eyes constantly, like you were stupid or something, and Rogers tried it just as often.

The looks he gave you were always tinged with poorly hidden jealousy before he caught himself.

You honestly didn’t know how people couldn’t see it. Including your partner.

You trusted Tony unwaveringly, fully well knowing he wouldn’t cheat on you with anyone. If Tony wanted out he’d just fucking break up with you, he was blunt like that, and respected you too much to do anything else. Unfortunately though, you also trusted that Tony wouldn’t immediately shoot Steve down because he hadn’t yet caught on to the man’s feelings about him.

You knew how Tony was with social cues. It’d taken him until the second time you’d asked him out to realize you weren’t messing with him even. With Tony you’d had to learn to be much more direct with your words to lessen communication issues, which had initially proved challenging. You were used to your silver tongue getting you places. When people fucked with you, you fucked them right back and took their place on the ladder. The business world was cutthroat and you didn’t plan on falling off anytime soon, so rewiring your brain for Tony didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen.

That level of openness though is what makes Steve’s shit grate on you. Your relationship was public (too public sometimes); you were Black America’s golden child and even if Tony wasn’t quite in the same place image wise with any one group he was still a Stark so you both had your respective eyes on you.

Tony was both simultaneously higher and lower than you on the food chain.

If Tony was black he’d have been kicked off of the chain years ago, fuck who his father was or how he’d advanced technology, and if you were white. Well…the Black America’s golden child specification wouldn’t have been necessary.

You’d sourced your parents oil business, once they retired, into green energy and it was slow change but it was still steady going and people recognized that. Respected it. You were known for cutting down big oil that was damaging small towns and you were good at it.

So people knew you, some adored you and some really didn’t, but you were in the public eye regardless. You’re also with somebody that’s in the public eye even more than you are. So there was no reason for Rogers to always be finding ways to end up alone with your partner.

To be touching him like he was doing right now.

“Oh fuck no.”

You straighten up from your semi-relaxed perch near Rhodey, who was also a guest of honor, and he turns to cut a confused look at you.

Tony’s best friend is great, you’d gotten close to both of his friends during the duration of your on and off relationship (admittedly Rhodes more so than Potts), and so you try not to be too short with him as you push yourself up.

“Rogers is doing it again,” you grumble.

Rhodey sighs as he no doubt looks in the same direction you are and sees the sliver of both men through the balcony doors.

“Oh yeah, that doesn’t look good.”

You nod your head and only turn to briefly catch his gaze before he waves you off.

“We both already know you’re gonna do whatever you feel like, so I’ll save my breath,” his eyes track something across the room and you raise your eyebrow before following his gaze.

He is right though, Rogers is pissing you off and you’re going to do whatever you feel like to handle it at this point.

You’re curious about Rhodey right now though.

“What are you watching?”

Rhodey gives you another sidelong look before smirking and starting to walk off.

“Maybe you’ll figure it out eventually,” he starts beelining towards a very pretty black woman and you chuckle. “Try not to mess with him too badly,” he calls over his shoulder before he disappears into the crowd.

Well, now that he’s after someone, it’s your turn.

Your shoes clack against the marble floor as you pick up two glasses of champagne from a waiter passing by you. Your eyes are dead set on the double doors your partner went through when someone steps in front of you.

You don’t spare them much of a glance, going to sidestep the person until they match your movement and you’re forced to actually look at them.

It’s your assistant.

You groan and roll your eyes, throwing your head back a little.

“Come on, Carmen.”

Her eyes narrow as she shakes her head at you.

“I’m not going to stop you from getting Tony. Lord knows Rogers has been stressing him out enough.” She points at you, “But do not cause a scene. Our resident American Icon is giving Potts enough grey hairs as is, I don’t need you giving me any too.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not going to fight him.”

“I didn’t say you would, but also…” she raises an eyebrow at you to finish her sentence and despite everything you lick your lips and laugh a bit.

The tall woman’s dubious look isn’t exactly unwarranted, Rhodey had told you to go easy on Rogers for a reason. People were always all over Tony and you were both jealous and protective, but you didn’t blow up so much as you got revenge at a later date.

Your targets rarely ever knew where their misfortune came from, but that wasn’t the important part. People didn’t purposely get in your way and get away with it. Them being messed with was the important bit.

“I’m not going to do anything drastic,” You look back at the door. At the very least Rogers isn’t touching Tony any more. You glance back at Carmen with a small smirk. “Besides. If I hit him I’d just break my own hand, and that’d be much too counterproductive. I’m a plotter not a fighter.”

Carmen’s nostrils flare, and you get just a little satisfaction in riling her up, but you take pity soon after.

“I’m just going to get him to stop, Car. I’m good with my tongue,” You wink at her and she huffs out a begrudging laugh. “I can get him to screw off without causing a scene.”

Carmen only raises her eyebrows at you for a few more seconds, all of which you watch Rogers for, before she steps aside. You distractedly nod your head at her in thanks and then move forward.

“Try not to fuck him up too badly,” she says.

“Funny, Rhodey said something similar,” you answer right before you push through the balcony doors.

Both men, leaning separate against the railing with an awkward air, whip their heads around to look at you.

It might just be you, but Rogers looks a little devastated, and as he turns to you the look on his face only seems to get funnier. Now you’re genuinely curious about what they were talking about.

You clock Tony’s expression in a similar fashion as you close the door behind you with your foot. He looks equally as awkward but his face is rapidly shifting with relief as he takes you in.

You toss him a cute little smile and he reciprocates it tiredly. The change from how honestly energetic he’d been while bragging about Rhodey’s accomplishments with you to the socialites inside grates.

You give Rogers an easy look, consciously making sure your eyes don’t narrow, before you plaster a smile on your face. Rogers is fidgety but the large man is mostly non threatening as he steps a little more away from Tony.

Good.

The smile you’re wearing feels like stone.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I thought you two might like something to drink before they close the bar for the night.” (A bold faced lie)

You lift up the two flutes of alcohol and watch as Steve looks away when Tony steps towards you to take one of the drinks and then makes a move to kiss you in thanks.

The smile falls off of your face entirely at the awkward way he aborts the gesture though.

You give him a look and he smiles at you with a panicky expression on his face. His eyes flutter to Rogers and you glare a little and shrug as you watch Tony. You could not give a fuck if Rogers was uncomfortable by your partner giving you the smallest amount of affection.

Tony’s lips thin and he gives you a pointed wide eyed look. Despite yourself you huff and roll your eyes before turning back to Steve.

You hold out your hand, actively offering him the other glass this time.

“You whisked my boyfriend away for so long I figured you could use something to drink,” you force the smile back onto your face. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“We handled something kind of important before you got here, but we’re finished now.” He smiles while rubbing at the back of his neck, but there’s that flash of jealousy.

You nod. “Hopefully nothing too important.”

“It’s private.”

The corners of your smile twitch a little and you feel Tony put a hand on the small of your back. “Oh, I bet.”

Steve seems to take in the way Tony purposefully steps towards you, the way he only has to brush his hand against your shoulder to get you to relax, and the way he eases himself comfortably at your side before finally deciding he should get going.

“Thank you again for the offer, but I should really get back in there,” He murmurs as he passes up your outstretched hand and sidesteps the both of you so he can go through the door.

“See you later, Tony,” he says right before the door closes behind him.

Tony grumbles something vaguely nasty under his breath as he pushes away from you. You cackle shortly at his words before watching as he rubs a hand down his face.

You give Tony a false bashful look when the door closes on Steve that quickly turns into one of mirth the longer you both look at each other.

“Ah dang, I ruined the moment didn’t I, Tony? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Tony cuts you off with a snort, “You are so full of shit.”

He still looks tired but the smile on his face is real.

You take a sip of your drink, only grimacing slightly at the taste, before grinning back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” he jokes. “I needed a break from Rogers, anyway, and you saved me from more awkward back and forth so thanks.”

You give a cocky shrug as you sidle up close to him. The playfulness Tony naturally fills you with dissipates some as you do.

“Are you okay?”

Tony nods before looking back at the door with a disgruntled look, “You could’ve told me he had a crush on me you know?”

You give Tony a small smile that the man can’t help but reciprocate.

“I could’ve, yeah, but you were making a friend.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“Some friend. He apparently had no problem admitting his feelings for me even though I’ve been in a committed relationship for two years.”

You feign shock and Tony flicks you on the arm.

“It’s not funny. He admitted to wanting to fuck me, Y/n!”

Despite the biting edge to his words Tony’s whole stance relaxes as you get close enough to wrap your arms around his waist.

He smiles hopelessly as you rub your nose against his.

“Oh yeah. And I officially think that conversation can be added to some of the worst of my career, if I’m being honest.”

You nod at him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “At least it’s out in the open now and he can finally get off your ass,” you murmur.

Tony leans into you with a sigh and gives you a knowing look.

“You are such a jealous person,” he murmurs.

You scoff, “Oh absolutely. Now drink your juice.”

“It’s champagne,” he teases back but he still takes a sip of his drink. “Your insistence on calling it juice will never not astound me.”

“It tastes like shit regardless, Tonio, doesn’t really matter what I call it.”

Tony laughs, and you watch delightedly as his dimenior relaxes.

“I do feel kind of bad that I had to shut him down the way I did though.”

“You do that,” you murmur. “But you’re mine now. His delusions would have had to be rectified eventually. And better me than you, because I wouldn’t have been half as nice putting his ass in his place. Especially if he’d admitted to wanting to fuck you.”

“The things you say to me, darling.”

NOTES: You know what? I don’t really know how I feel about this one, but I’m posting it anyway.

And also Steve’s role in this is simply catalyst, don’t take it personally.

Hope you enjoyed!!

#tony stark #black!reader #black y/n #unrequited stony #tony stark x black!reader #tony stark x gn!reader #tony stark x black gender neutral reader #iron man x black!reader #how tf I’m I supposed to rate this shit #like: ❓❓ #tony stark x reader #tony stark x black reader #iron man x reader #tony stark imagine #iron man imagine #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #x black!reader

[not-a-robot-i-swear-really]

In all the time that I've been reading fanfiction, I've noticed that femme or femme-coded readers often end up in the role of the Damsel in Distress™️. A common plot point in a lot of x reader fics involves the reader being bullied only to be rescued by the designated male love interest. In these fics, the readers often do little to nothing to defend themselves, and just stand around crying before somebody swoops in to save them.

However in fics where the reader or writer are explicitly stated as being black, this situation rarely ever comes up. The reader is hardly bullied or harassed in any shape or form, and in the cases where they are, they are often the figure defending themselves rather than waiting for someone else to do it.

This likely ties into the greater idea of Black women being strong and independent - nobody else will come to help us so we have to do it ourselves. This is opposed to white readers and authors, which could be a form of internalized misogyny - white women are still culturally getting used to the idea of being independent and still trying to separate themselves from the idea of a prop in the white man's world.

What do y'all think about this?

#black!oc #black oc #black reader #black!reader #black reader insert #x black!reader #mcu x black!reader #mcu x black reader

[iridescentmauve]

♡︎ marvel taglist! ♡︎

i don't really know how to do the whole google doc taglist thing unfortunately 😭 teach me how you do it guys! anyway, like or reblog this tweet if you would like to be tagged in all of my works for marvel! please do not comment under this to avoid my own confusion.

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel x black reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #mcu x black reader #x black reader #x black!reader #black reader #reader insert #marvel smut #mcu smut

[welovelouisandbucky]

Me: *gets periods* *sighs*

Also me: *searches x reader period fics on Tumblr/ao3*

#incorrect quotes #harry potter #marauders #james potter #y/n incorrect quotes #wolfstar #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #regulus black x reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #loki x reader #bucky barns x reader #harry potter x reader #cedric diggory x reader #spencer reid x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #period fic #comfort

[waltermis]

And yet she's still the one that got screwed over by Marvel 😮‍💨

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers: infinity war #avengers : endgame #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett johansson

[romanoffshouse]

*nudging Natasha awake at 2 a.m.*

Y/N: Do you like me?

Natasha: I MARRIED YOU

Y/N: yeah, but did you marry me as a friend, or as a wife?

#source: tumblr #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect mcu quotes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanov #natalia romanova #natasha romanoff x y/n #marvel #marvel x reader #the avengers #mcu #avengers x reader

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ １２ － Ｄｅｖｏｔｉｏｎ

－ Cherish the Day - Shuri Udaku - Black Panther

－ In which Shuri spenda her first Valentines Day with the person who helped her heal!

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

“Panther,” comes the deep, familiar robotic voice of Griot over the intercom in the office, “the time is now six o’clock-”

“-yes, yes, Griot, thank you,” Shuri mumbles, brushing off the inanimate being as she usually did when she was nose deep into her reports, barely registering the words it had said.

“Panther, I was asked to remind you of your date, which is scheduled for seven o’clock this evening.”

Shit, the word rings in her head, but she isn’t all that sure if it stayed in her head.

“I was told to be firm in my reminder,” Griot adds, “should I enact a stricter voice prompt?”

“No, no,” says the royal, pushing aside the document she had finished looking over into the pile of completed reports. There were still a few pages on to the right of her, but those could be reserved for tomorrow, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Good,” comes another voice as Shuri rises from her desk, and the sound of it makes a smile creep to her lips, “otherwise who knows; he may have put on my voice.”

Your figure leans against the threshold of the office, and it visibly comforts the other as Shuri makes her way to greet you. “I said I was coming, darling.”

“What, I can’t come to visit you now?”

“Well, we both know the kind of distraction you pose.”

A playful punch meets the royal's forearm, and Shuri laughs as she comes to envelop you into a tight embrace. It acts as a thank you for relieving her from her work, something she is far too easily susceptible to.

“I take it you’ve planned something for this evening?” Shuri asks as she loosens her hold, her hands still resting on your forearms.

“Nothing too drastic,” you reassure her, “you’ve been busy with the turn of the year; I figured a nice, quiet evening in would do us both good.”

Shuri agrees, the prospect of her work lost to her now that she is in your presence. As you pull her through the threshold, she taps on the wall twice to turn off the light in the office, the door closing and locking behind the pair. 

“I also have a bunch of movies lined up.” You hum in excitement.

“Is that so?”

“Griot helped me break through Netflix’s firewall,” you reply proudly, “so now I can show you all the cringiest love movies on my list!”

Shuri doesn’t object, however, jokingly or otherwise. She just presses a kiss to your temple and lets you ramble off about the movies in question, excited for the night ahead.

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

#flowersinbloom🏵 #black reader #black tumblr #black marvel #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x reader #mcu x black!reader #marvel black panther #mcu black panther #black panther x reader #black panther x black!reader #black panther shuri #shuri black panther #shuri #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #black panther #princess shuri #queen shuri #black panther wakanda forever #bpwf

[solitaryearthperson]

For a while

Summary: Reader and Shuri share their first kiss.

(The reader is 18+ and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

"Too tight," I told her, wincing again as I felt Shuri make a slight pull on my edges as she started another braid. Sometimes we would go and get our hair braided at the royal salon, but times like this, we would do each other's hair as a way of bonding.

"Sorry," She said. "Now where were we?"

"Idris?" I asked, adjusting my seating on the floor, careful not to disturb Shuri's work.

"Mmm, no."

"No," I repeated in disbelief.

"No. Not for me."

When I felt that she had gotten to the end of the braid, I turned around and looked up at her in obvious disbelief. For the past few minutes, we've been going back and forth, asking each other about any celebrity crushes, and it seemed that each one I suggested, she turned down immediately.

"How can Idris not be for you? He's for everyone."

"Not. For. Me. Turn back around."

I turned back around and tried to think of another celebrity, while she began to braid another section of my hair.

"Rihanna?" I asked.

A burst of laughter erupted from her and I looked slightly over my shoulder to see her looking down at me with a big smile on her face.

"What? You can't not want Rihanna?"

"I'm sorry I don't. Keep your head forward."

Groaning, I turned my head forward, trying to think of another one. " Michael B. Jordan?"

"No," she laughed. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Why do you care so much about who I like?"

Her question made me quiet for a second as I didn’t know what to say. For a while, I’ve felt something for Shuri, but I can’t really tell if she felt something for me or not. Sometimes the way she looks at me makes me think she might do, but she’s never said anything to indicate it. She would sometimes look at me with an expression almost reminding me of adoration, but just as quickly it would come, it would quickly go. I thought maybe this game would tell me what she’s into, physically, but she’s literally rejected every single person I’ve picked.

“I just think it’s weird. Everyone has at least one celebrity crush.”

“What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“Who’s yours,” she asked me, finishing the braid. 

“Um,...Letitia Wright,” I told her. “She’s cute.”

I felt her fingers stop moving and she was quiet for a second and I wondered if she caught on to what I was doing. When she finally did speak, I could hear the suspicion in her voice. “Didn’t you say that you think she looks like me?”

I gulped nervously before replying, “Yeah.”

She was quiet again. I still didn’t feel her fingers moving anymore, and I could feel her gaze on the back of my head. I took the chance to turn around and look up at her and I found that she was looking down at me with that same look. It was always intense and whenever she did it, I would, like now, feel a small fluttering in my stomach. 

“Shuri, are you-” I was cut off by the soft feel of her lips landing on mine. She quickly pulled away, me and her both looking at each other in shock, but I quickly got over mine and pulled her back down to kiss me again. 

Kissing her felt like a thousand butterflies fluttering inside me and I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest, but it was the best feeling ever. When I felt her tongue move against my bottom lip, I let out a gasp and allowed hers to meet mine, moaning into her mouth. When we felt that we both needed some air, we pulled away from each other, but not before she gave another soft kiss on my lips, leaving them tingling.

She had the same intense look in her eyes, but this time it was different. 

“How long?” I asked her.

“How long, what?”

“How long have you liked me?”

A wide smile spread across her face and she ducked her head down shyly. “For a while.”

“How long is a while?” I asked her, sitting up on my knees and placing my hands on hers, making her smile harder.

“Since,” she picked up my hand and looked at me, then placed a kiss on the back of it. “Since we first met.”

“Really?” I asked, not believing her. She nodded her head and I couldn’t control the scoff that came out of my mouth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, (Y/N). I didn’t want to ruin a friendship.” She placed her hand on my cheek, and leaned toward me to give me another kiss. My lips met hers halfway and even though the kiss was quick, it still brought the fluttering again.

“Now turn back around, so I can finish your hair,” She told me, laying a kiss on my cheek, before grabbing my shoulder, nudging me to sit back down on the floor.

Turning back around and turning my head forward, it didn’t take long to feel her fingers moving again in my hair, beginning to part another section of it. I lifted my hand up to my lips, remembering the feel of Shuri’s lips on mine and couldn’t control the smile that began to grow on my face.

#MCU #marvel #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x black!reader #mcu x woc!reader #marvel x black!reader #marvel x woc!reader #Black Panther #Black Panther imagine #Black Panther x reader #Black Panther x black!reader #Black Panther x female!reader #Shuri #Shuri imagine #Shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x woc!reader #shuri x female reader #mcu x poc!reader #marvel x poc!reader #shuri x poc!reader #Black Panther x poc!reader

[prettykittycastle]

Watching a “Movie”

Summary: Shuri and the reader have a fun sleepover. 

(The reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

(Content Warning: Pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms)

It was rare that Shuri would leave her lab early and call it a night. Every now and then her and some friends of the family would decide to have a sleepover and they would spend all night doing whatever they want as long as it was only in her room and they promised that they wouldn't be too loud. Tonight was one of those nights, but instead of the usual group, it was just you and Shuri. You and her had an unspoken attraction that had been going on ever since you two were children, but never acted upon it. But something changed tonight. The usual lingering stares you two threw at each other seemed to last longer tonight than it did before. Subtle touches between you two not only lasted longer but they sparked a fire between you both that couldn't be put out. It wasn't until you two had decided to go to her room and watch a movie that you both had done something about this attraction.

You had took your usual spot beside her bed on the floor with your sleeping bag and pillow, but before you could get comfortable, she had stopped you. You had a feeling that something might happen between you two the minute she invited you to lay in her bed beside her, but you ignored it. Which is how you ended up like this: trying to keep quiet and not alarm the Dora Milaje guard outside her door, while she ate your pussy like it was the best meal ever made.

"Shuri," you gasped her name, feeling her tongue flick at your clit before giving it a quick suck. You squeezed her bedsheets between your fingers and bit your lip, hoping to keep quiet.

"Ssh, love. Let me taste you," she whispered before lapping at your pussy.

She used one hand to hold your lips open and ran her tongue up and down your center, lapping at you like a dog licking up water. She used her other hand to hold on to your thigh, keeping it from meeting the other one.

"Oh my god," you moaned loudly, closing your eyes, feeling the warm sensation inside of you quickly get hotter and hotter with each lap of Shuri's tongue.

"Ssshh," she shushed you again, pulling away from you.

You opened your eyes and looked down your body to see Shuri looking up at you with a teasing smile, her braids falling around her face and her lips shining with your juices. Just the sight of her mouth shining like that made another moan leave your mouth and you lifted your hips, trying to push your pussy back towards her mouth.

"(Y/N)," she said your name, the hand on your thigh moving up to push you back down on the bed. "You mustn't be loud, or the Dora Milaje will come in."

It took you a second to register what she said, your mind and body only focused on having her mouth back on you. "Okay, okay," you said, nodding your head.

Seeing you nod, she moved her hand back to your thigh, holding on to it tightly, while she brought her other hand to your pussy.

The teasing smile on her face grew as she lowered her head back down to you. You furrowed your brows, wondering why she smiled like that and suddenly you understood why and you quickly let go of her bedsheet and covered your mouth to hold in your moan as you felt her tongue begin circling your clit. Oh fuck, I'm finna cum, you thought, the warm sensation getting hotter from every circle of her tongue. You could feel more of your juices leaking out of you and running down to your ass onto the bed and you hoped for a second that Shuri wouldn't mind you making you such a mess on her bed when you felt the sudden pushing of her finger into your entrance, going all the way in, knuckle deep.

"Mmm," you moaned behind your hand, your pussy squeezing her finger and soaking it with more juices.

"You're close," she lifted her head and asked.

You nodded your head silently, not trusting yourself to move your hand and form an actual response.

Lowering her face back down to your center she placed her lips around your clit and sucked you, moaning into you.

The vibration of her moan almost pushed you over the edge and you lifted your hips, wanting to grind against her face, but she wouldn't let you and gave your thigh a light slap, warning you to be still, before returning it back to its previous spot, holding you.

"Ssshuri," you whispered and hissed her name, wanting to tell her that you were almost there. "Shuri, I'm almost-"

You stopped mid-sentence, your eyes almost closing as Shuri began moving her finger inside of you, curling it so the tip would hit and stroke your inner walls.

Another moan, accompanied by her sucking you and twisting her finger brought you over the edge and the warmth that had been building inside of you took hold of your body and mind.

"Aaah!" You couldn't help the cry that slipped out of your mouth as the waves of your orgasm rocked your body. What made it worse was Shuri. She didn't stop sucking on your clit as you came and she didn't remove her finger from inside you, not that she would be able to as your walls squeezed it too tightly. No matter how much your hips rose and try to move away, she wouldn't stop moaning and sucking your clit, quickly overstimulating you.

"Shuri, stop," you begged, removing your hand from your mouth and trying to push her face away, but she held onto your thigh and continued to suck.

"Oh my god," you moaned loudly again as you felt the tingling sensation of another orgasm rushing up. "Please, please."

You made the mistake of looking down and made eye-contact with Shuri as she began sucking even harder on your clit and twisted her finger inside of you again. The sight alone was enough to make you cum again and this time you couldn't hold back the scream that escaped your throat, wringing loud in the room.

"Princess," you heard the guard outside her room say from outside.

Shuri quickly pulled away from your clit and answered,"I am fine."

You laid your head back on Shuri's pillow and closed your eyes, letting your orgasm wash over you now that Shuri had stopped.

"The queen wants to speak with you."

You were just feeling the effects of the orgasm slowly begin to fade when suddenly you registered that Shuri's finger was still inside of you, and worse, she was slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"I'm a little busy right now," You heard her respond back, before you felt a second finger join hers, slightly stretching you and you let out a whimper at the feel of it.

Quickly, Shuri placed her hand over your mouth and you opened your eyes to see her face above yours, her body leaning over yours, and you quickly recognized the look of hunger in her eyes.

"The queen wants to know-"

Her fingers began thrusting in and out of you faster, your juices making it easy for her. Your already overstimulated pussy began tingling again, and you couldn't help but grab onto her shoulder silently urging her to slow down as the heat inside of you was quickly building up again.

"-why you have left the lab."

A loud, wet, squelching sound was heard in the room as her fingers fucked you faster, your juices beginning to leak more and more out of you and wet her bed further. The moans you let out behind her hand was quickly rising in volume the more she fingerfucked you. You knew this next orgasm was going to be stronger than the first two and you already felt your mind beginning to glaze over the closer to the edge you got.

"Be a good slut and cum for me again," she demanded, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Her words and her fingers fucking you pushed you over the edge and with a cry muffled by her hand, you came around her fingers, your juices soaking not only her bedsheets but her hand as well.

"Princess," the guard said again, but this time Shuri didn't answer her back, continuing to finger you through your orgasm, overstimulating you so much that small tears began to fall from your eyes and you lifted the hand on her shoulder to push her away.

There was a look of cockiness in her eyes as she leaned away from and slowly pulled her fingers out of you. When she finally removed her hand from your mouth, you were letting out little whimpers, your legs shaking from your orgasms. Looking down at you, Shuri couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face as you continued to whimper and hold a look of absolute pleasure.

She brought her soaked fingers up to her mouth and ran her tongue up and down them, then her palm, moaning at your taste. Should I fuck her again in the morning, she wondered, eyeing your pussy and the juices still leaking from you.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorknob being turned and she quickly threw her cover over your body, knowing you were too exhausted to do it yourself, and hurried over to the door, unlocking and opening it to see the guard looking at her with suspicion.

"Yes?"

"The queen wants to see you, Princess Shuri."

"Yes, okay. Let's go." She stepped outside her room and closed the door behind her, locking it.

"What about (Y/N)," the guard asked.

"She's tired. If she asks, let her know that I am with my mother."

~

"Mother, did you want to see me?" Shuri asked walking into the throne room to find her mother waiting on her.

When the queen heard Shuri, she turned around and looked relieved. "Yes, I noticed you left the lab early, but I hadn't heard of the girls being with you."

"No, it is only (Y/N) tonight."

"A sleepover?" The Queen asked, but her tone was different.

Shuri heard the change in her mother's tone, but chose to ignore it and nodded her head.

"Where's she now?"

"In my room. She's tired."

The queen was quiet for a second and looked at her with a look that made Shuri nervous.

"The guard said she heard noises coming from inside."

The nervousness inside Shuri quickly rose but she tried to not show it on her face. "We were watching a movie."

"A movie?" She asked, her tone and her face showing her disbelief.

Nodding her head, Shuri looked at her and tried to ignore the look on her mother's face.

"Well, make sure you two don't 'watch movies' all night long," she smirked knowingly at her daughter, making Shuri's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Yes, mother, we won't," Shuri quickly said, turning and beginning to rush out of the throne room when she heard her mother speak again.

"And keep it down. You don't want others to hear your 'movie'."

Shuri's cheeks burned hotter at her mother's words and she hurried out of the room to see you.

#mcu #marvel #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x black!reader #mcu x black!reader #mcu smut #marvel smut #black panther #black panther x reader #black panther x black!reader #black panther smut #black panther imagine #shuri #shuri imagine #shuri smut #shuri x reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri x female reader #shuri x black!female reader #w/w #w/w smut

[fandomnerd9602]

Y/N: no we’re not stopping until the Red Room is burned to its core

Melina: brave one. I see why you are dating them.

Natasha: it’s mostly for Y/N’s cuddles and the way they treat our baby

Yelena: you have a baby?

Y/N: she’s only three months old!

Y/N shows them a picture of a kitten…

Alexei: my grandchild is a cat?

Yelena: and you laugh because I want to own a dog!?

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova #melina #black widow movie

[huggingkoalas]

ride me it

pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader

synopsis riding a motorcycle should be similar to riding her face, right?

word count 1.8k

warnings smut, use of vibrators (using a literal motorcycle), mentions of ‘exhibitionist’ kink, mentions/use of ‘mommy’ kink, pet names, teasing, cursing, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

author’s note am i going absolutely feral over nat's motorcycle scenes in age of ultron and black widow? yessir :P + this fic is inspired by this tiktok edit of nat too <3

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“Will you teach me how to ride, Nat?” You asked, stopping your gentle scratches on her scalp.

Natasha, lying on the bed with her head on your lap, turned her attention from the movie playing on the television to you. Amused, she raised her eyebrows, her infamous smirk on her lips. “Are you talking about my face?”

You slapped her hard on the arm and shook your head in amusement. “I meant the motorcycle, you weirdo.” 

“Ouch, that hurts.” Natasha hissed with a pout on her face. 

Both you and Natasha knew she could handle physical pain since she was literally the Black Widow. Even if she didn’t have superpowers like Thor and the Hulk, she was still one of the most powerful women in the world. Fighting the desire to roll your eyes, you played along with her antics. You rubbed her arm, eyes twinkling in faux pity while mouthing ‘sorry’. 

“I read the mission reports everyone sent from the Ultron Offensive mission. I had no idea you knew how to ride a motorcycle.” You remarked, continuing your featherlight strokes along her hair. You wish you were there that day. If you witnessed Natasha riding a motorcycle, skillfully navigating through traffic and avoiding danger, you’d be drooling right away.

“I guess it just never came up. I wouldn’t mind teaching you, though. It would be hot if you rode something other than my face.” Natasha teased.

“Nat!” Your cheeks turned bright red from her comment. “I-I mean, you’ll have to teach me the basics first, though. I don’t think I’m ready to drive one yet.”

The thought of driving a fast vehicle sent shivers down your spine. Despite feeling scared, you wanted to impress your girlfriend. Maybe if you tried something dangerous, like learning how to ride a motorcycle, she wouldn’t keep calling you a scaredy cat.

“I can teach you the basics now.” She replied, removing her head from your lap and sitting up.

“N-Now? You sure?” You hesitated. “I mean, sure, yeah, okay.”

You didn’t think she’d teach you how to ride a motorcycle now, but you weren’t complaining. Natasha intertwined your fingers with yours, dragging you to the garage quickly. 

You could see the excitement in her eyes as she led you to the garage. The green in her eyes was brighter than usual, and you couldn’t help an endearing smile appearing on your face. Seeing this side of her made your heart melt. Sometimes, she reminded you of a puppy.

Your eyes adjusted to the amount of sunlight flittering through the ceiling-to-floor windows once you reached the garage. It was your first time here, and the spaciousness of the area amazed you. Numerous cars, including SUVs and Humvees, were lined neatly side-by-side. Your gaze immediately spotted the familiar black and red motorcycle you had read in her mission report.

“What’s its model again?” You asked, walking to the motorcycle and running your fingertips along the tank cover before resting your palm on the leather seat.

“It’s a Harley-Davidson LiveWire.” Natasha walked up behind you, resting her hands on your hips. “It’s brand new. The motorcycle from the mission got totalled, so Fury and Stark had to buy me another one.”

“Yeah, I know. I had to deal with financial reports afterwards. It’s... really expensive.” You turned your head to look up at her, leaning up to kiss the tip of her nose. “Only the best motorcycle for the best woman in the world.”

“Enough compliments or I’m bringing you to my room and showing you how much you’re the best woman all night.” Natasha husked, her teeth tugging at your earlobe. Her hot breath whispered in your ear, making you weak to your knees.

She released herself from behind you, her famous smirk on her face as she noticed your flustered state. “Alright, get on the motorcycle.” She said, her voice an octave lower than usual. You looked at Natasha, and she was looking at you with darkened eyes. 

You both knew what that tone meant. It was the tone she would use on you when you were writhing on her sheets, moaning her name over and over again as she brought you to multiple orgasms. Both of you knew what the tone did to you. You’d willingly get on your knees and do anything she asked if she used that sultry voice again.

Clearing your throat to brush your mind off the filthy thoughts your brain had come up with, you inquired. “Won’t it tip over if I get on it?”

Natasha lets out a short laugh as you shoot her a nervous look. There’s a mixture of amusement and something else entirely in her green eyes. You're not sure. She’s making you even more nervous than you already are.

“See that little stick on the side propping up the bike?” With a nod of your head, she points to the black pedal holding the vehicle up. “That’s a kickstand. The bike doesn’t magically defy gravity, and it certainly doesn’t fly.”

You wanted to wipe the smug grin off Natasha’s face. Normally you’d make a snarky remark now, but instead, you let her off with a shrug.

“I promise to catch you if, for some reason, the kickstand doesn’t do its job, detka (baby).” The use of the pet name relaxes you a bit, and you nod your head.

“Fine, I trust you. Is there... A specific way to get on it?” You asked.

“Just mount it, lyubov’ (love). It’s the same as riding on my face.” Natasha replied in a teasing tone. Your head snaps towards her, and your cheeks warm. Her arms are crossed, and her biceps are clearly visible as she wears a black sleeveless sweater. You know you won’t survive the rest of the lesson if she acts (and looks) like this.

You grab the handles and slowly swing one leg over the seat. Your feet barely touch the ground, and you’re tiptoeing while sitting on the vehicle. 

“I think the motorcycle is too tall for me.” You looked at her with a frown.

Natasha expertly climbs onto the bike behind you. “Shortie.” She taunts.

“Careful!” You exclaimed, holding onto the handlebars as the bike tilted left and right due to her movement.

You shift in your seat, getting used to the weird position. The motorcycle seemed larger between your thighs. Furthermore, there were a bunch of pedals, levers, and buttons. You were familiar with what the side mirrors do, but you were not sure what everything else does.

Your heart pounded in your ears. The seat slope caused Natasha's body to press up against you. You shudder slightly as you feel her breasts press up against your back. You tried to make yourself comfortable, but her breath against the back of your neck sent a small shiver down to your core. 

“You’re so tense, detka (baby). Do I make you nervous?” She rests her chin on your shoulder, her hands running down your arms to take your hand in hers while you hold the handlebar.

“You’re sleeping on the couch if you don’t shut up right now, Nat.” You replied, gritting your teeth. As much as you liked her relentless teasing, the heightened adrenaline and fear in your body spiked your anxiousness.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry, lyubov’ (love). Let’s start the lesson then.” Natasha said, turning her attention back to the task at hand. 

She turned the key in the ignition on. The rumbling of the motor startled you as the engine started to thrum softly beneath you.

“I’ll put it on neutral since you’re not driving.” She added.

You nodded your head. You had a license to drive a car, so you knew some driving language. But even though you had experience driving a car, you knew that riding a motorcycle was something completely different. You could feel your heart racing and your grip on the handlebars trembling slightly.

“The lever above the left handle is the clutch lever. The one on the right is the lever for the front brake.” Natasha continued, showing and explaining the parts and their functions.

You couldn't concentrate. The vibration of the engine below you and the slight vibration of the seat had your attention instead. You pursed your lips and nodded as you pretended to understand what she was teaching you.

Closing your eyes for a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Natasha’s lips touch the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Are you listening to me?” She murmured against your skin.

You pursed your lips and speak shakily. “Y-Yes.”

Natasha smirked as she watched your face, she could clearly see that your mind was somewhere else entirely, exactly where she wanted it to be. “I can make you feel even better...”

“This is the throttle handle that gasses the motor.“ She taps a finger on the right handle. She slowly turns the handle towards you, her wrist applying pressure, and the engine revs louder.

“Shit, Nat-” You gasp out loud, the vibrations beneath you getting stronger the more she turns the handle. You feel even more wetness gathering in your panties.

“Nat,” You whimpered with desperation. “Please, I..I-”

You arch your body against her and throw your head back against her shoulder, enjoying the vibrations from the seat. Natasha almost moans at the sight of you aching for her. She gently pulls your shirt off, throwing it behind her. The cold air sends goosebumps down your arm and her left hand rests on your thigh, squeezing and kneading your clothed thigh.

“Shh... Quiet. You don’t want someone to walk on us like this, do you?” She warns you.

Your lungs are struggling for air as you gasp. Shame and desire course through your veins at the thought of someone catching the both of you in this position. You bite your bottom lip, biting it hard you think it might bleed. 

“Want me to go faster?” She asks in a sultry voice. Without waiting for your response, she twists the handle down quickly, the seat pulsating quickly and louder.

Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat. Your panties and pants are sticking to you uncomfortably as the leather seat vibrates harshly against your folds. You’re rutting down onto the seat desperately, aching for release. 

“I-I’m close, Nat, don’t stop, please-” You somehow manage to plead through the haze.

You moan loudly as she revs the engine loudly once more, and you scream ‘mommy’ as you orgasm, stars blinding your eyes as your body shakes with bliss. Your arousal sticks to your thighs and pools onto the leather seat below you as you come down from your high.

Natasha switches off the ignition once you finish tumbling over the edge. The vibration and the sounds from the motorcycle quiet down, and all you can hear is your increased heartbeat and the silence of the garage. You feel your legs and body twitch slightly from the orgasm. 

You turned your head towards her, seeing a shit-eating grin on her face. “Wow, ‘Mommy’, huh? That’s a first.” She teased, licking her lips. “I’ll have so much fun cleaning the bike later.”

You groaned, hiding your face in her neck. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

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#lumi’s fics! #marvel #mcu #the avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #smut #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction

[wandaromanoffroses]

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Requested

Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity

Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.

Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)

Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).

“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 

“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.

You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 

Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.

“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 

“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.

“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.

“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.

“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 

“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.

“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.

“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 

“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 

“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”

“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.

“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 

“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 

..........................................................................

You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.

You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.

“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 

You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.

“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 

“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 

“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 

“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.

“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 

You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.

Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.

“Words bitch.”

“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.

“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 

When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 

She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.

“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 

“Can I take this off angel?”

“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 

“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”

“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.

“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 

“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”

“Natasha, please…”

“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”

“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 

“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.

“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.

“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.

“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.

You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.

“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.

“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”

“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 

“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 

“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 

You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.

“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 

“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  

“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.

As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.

“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”

“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 

“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.

“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”

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