thatsgay-ficrec

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Songs that I think could have been good for Bottoms or even as like a basis for a fic for Bottoms:

Somebody I Fucked Once by Zolita

Or

Sucker punch by Fletcher (mainly this one)

#bottoms #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Kara Danvers x Reader #8

Words: 2,333

Summary: reader trades half her life for Kara’s

Warnings: Death, Depression

Notes:

I just wanted to nerd about philosophy and ponder about psychological egoism and it turned into this...sorry about spelling mistakes.

———

Psychological egoism; the theory that no one can truly be selfless. The theory that, even when we’re helping others, deep down we’re acting in our own self-interest.

When you came across the theory a couple of months ago you thought it was ridiculous. It was something you couldn’t believe, not when your girlfriend seemed like the paragon of selflessness.

Kara.

Kara who risks her life everyday for the people of National City, Kara who risks her life for the world. Kara who has lost, and Kara who keeps on fighting anyways. Kara who cares, who cares so much.

Kara gives, and she gives, and she gives, and she’s dying because of it now, so she isn’t a bad person. She isn’t a bad person, but now you’re starting to think that selfishness doesn’t necessarily need to mean bad. When selfishness brings you to help others, it isn’t a bad thing. It can’t be.

You don’t want to be a bad person. You have to believe that the decision you made an hour ago was the right one, because when the disfigured voice spoke to you with it’s compelling offer of; half of your life for Kara’s survival/revival...you couldn’t say no.

———

When Kara wakes up from her coma a day later, not even the mystery voice saying: “it’s done” in it’s weird enchanting voice keeps you from your relief and joy.

If your decision was ‘selfishy good’ in nature, if it was just selfless, or even if it was just plain selfish...well, you can’t really bring yourself to care right now because Kara is smiling and hugging you and...and fuck everything else.

This is worth it. Even if you hit the halfway point of your life tomorrow and die...this is worth it. It’s Kara. Kara who sacrifices a lot, but Kara whose worth sacrifices too. So yeah. ‘It’s done’... and it’s okay.

———

It’s not okay.

It’s not okay because when you get into a near death experience a year after Kara looks at you like she just experienced another world dying.

She holds you when you wake up in the hospital bed like you’re made of glass. She holds you like you’re the most precious thing on earth.

It’s not okay because it’s unfair, because it hurts how much you’re going to hurt her, because even while the decision you made a year ago isn’t something you’d change, you hate it anyways.

It’s not okay because Kara proposes to you. She proposes to you right there, with you in the hospital bed. She proposes to you and makes a beautiful speech talking about forever, talking about happinesses. She paints a beautiful picture of the future with her words, because she’s Kara Danvers the Pulitzer Prize winner, and you want.

You want. Desperately.

You can’t have.

Kara says, with her beautiful tear streaked cheek, with her embarrassed eye shifting, “I can’t imagine my life without you,” and suddenly ‘want’ turns into hatred. Not hatred…

It turns into rage. Rage, and helplessness, so much helplessness, and pain. All consuming pain. Pain that floods your eyes with tears until your choking on sobs, until your body is shaking. Pain.

Pain that Kara doesn’t understand—can’t understand because you’ve never been able to tell her about the sacrifice you made a year ago.

She gets her own type of pain though, when you force out a trembling, and raspy; “No—no Kara. No.”

“What?” Kara asks, with a look that’s somehow disbelieving, and unsurprised. Like a part of her always expects to not be enough.

You shut your eyes against the look on her face—against the deathly silent—and you wish for different. You wish to be in another timeline where things don’t hurt as much, you wish for a timeline where the offer of forever with the women you love isn’t just waking up everyday for as long as you have left wondering if it’s the day your forever is cut short too soon.

It doesn’t work.

The pain, the helplessness, the rage, it leads to you doing something selfish, but this time there’s no question about whether or not it’s the ‘good selfish’. It’s just selfish. It’s selfish but you’re tired, so you tell Kara about that day a year ago where she shouldn’t have woken up from her coma.

You weren’t going to tell her because you know Kara, you know that she’ll try to change your fate if it’s the last thing she does, and you know that when it eventually fails it’ll crush her completely, because being brave enough to hope then having it squashed...it’s awful.

——-

When you’re done with your retelling you say, “I don’t want to be alone anymore,” with a look on your face that Kara never wanted to see, a look that can only be described as...heavy. Unbearably heavy.

Kara’s own face is full of darkness. There’s a hauntedness about her as she sits silently in her seat, staring at you, and it’s scary because Kara isn’t here anymore. Not mentally.

——-

It takes nearly half an hour for Kara to come back, and when she does she doesn’t react the way you expect her to. You expect sobs and pleas, and hope, and anger.

What you get instead is her arm pulling you into a hug, and her face pressed against your neck, and silent tears wetting the collar of your hospital gown.

What you get is fear. Her fear that sits over you like a blanket.

And an hour later, what you get is a whispered, “Why does it feel like nothing in life will ever go right?”

“I’m sorry, Kara,” you say, though you aren’t. “Saving you was practically saving the world...you’re a hero.” You know Kara doesn’t think she’s worth it as is. Appealing to her hero is the only way you can think to make her understand.

“I know you’re tired of hurting—”

“Please,” Kara cuts in. You feel her jaw clench. “I never asked you to defend yourself. What’s done is done, I just want to lay here.”

Lay here and pretend her world hasn’t been shattered. Lay here and not think about the future, or the past.

“I just…” you pause, pulling away to examine Kara’s face. “I feel like i’ve just really hurt you in a big way.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Kara says, and it sounds like a plea. “I don’t want to— Fuck.”

And now she’s sobbing, and you’re pulling her back into the hug while she shakes her head over and over again, while she squeezes her eyes shut.

These were the sobs you were expecting. These sobs that only someone who has lost as much as Kara can manage. They’re loud and full of heartbreak, she’s shouting broken questions that aren’t for you all the while, and this was what you were expecting but it’s...it’s unfair.

——-

Her emotions change quickly during her processing period but none of it is anger...it’s all just sort of defeat manifested in different ways.

Kara feels defeated. She feels helpless...and this isn’t what you wanted.

——-

It’s two weeks after the incident in the hospital that Kara decides it’s time to actually talk about ‘it’ with you. You know she’s been going to Alex and her friends for advice, you’re glad she’s finally going to you.

“I feel like I'm mourning you while you’re still alive, and I hate it,” Kara admits, eyes downcast. “I hate that I feel like I can’t talk to you, because I know you didn’t want to tell me for a year because you didn’t want to make me sad and-”

“And that’s exactly what you are,” you finish for her, laughing in a way that’s not at all humorous.

Kara closes her eyes, and whispers, brokenly, “I'm so sad,” in her agreement. “I’m sad, I'm lost, I'm angry, I'm desperate...I don’t know how to feel yet I feel so much—I just—Rao Y/N, I just want you to be okay,” Kara says, and you know. You know. Have known since last year, watching Alex brokenly try to tell you that Kara might not make it this time. You know how it hurts.

It hurts hearing that the person you love is going to die. It hurts in an all encompassing way that makes the future seem so terrifying.

But there’s nothing that can save you now.

“Lena is- she’s trying to find a way.”

That doesn’t really surprise you. You used to believe that there was nothing Lena couldn’t do if she really wanted it...but this...well it has to be impossible. How are you supposed to change the fate granted to you by a higher being…?

“Alex is trying too,” Kara says, “she and Brainy are contacting everyone they can think of to help you.”

The thought of your friends fighting so hard for you makes your eyes water and your chest hurt. The Superfriend always land on top when they work together, they always win...

“How?” You ask, your voice trembling on the word. “Kara, how?”

Kara glances up from where she was glaring holes into the edge of the couch to look at you. She hesitates for a moment before saying; “they believe that if they can somehow grant you immortality they can save you…”

No.

“Kara,” you whisper, feeling a large amount of guilt, “I don’t want to live forever.”

And Kara knows. She knows but— “but then you won’t even have a full life,Y/N.”

She sounds so terrified again, when she says that, that you can’t even say anything in response but shake your head.

“If you’re supposed to die,” Kara pauses, studying your face, “am i supposed to- do you just want me to just let you?”

She sounds repulsed by the idea...but…

“Yes, Kara. Yes. You’re supposed to let me.”

The, ‘I don’t believe you can change this and I don’t want this to hurt you more than it should’, goes unsaid by you.

———

Kara doesn’t listen. She tries, and she tries, and she tries, for months, and only months because you die 5 months after your initial accident.

The doctors have no clue why...you just pass peacefully in your sleep one day and leave Kara to wake up next to you trying to shake you awake and pleading for you to just “wake up, please, please.”

Kara is devastated.

More devastated than any of her friends expects, more devastated than Alex expects. They’re trying to help her but they lost you too and everything is just harder because of it.

Kara tries for revival. She asks John Constantine and everyone she can think of but everything doesn’t work and eventually Alex has to force her to stop.

After is what Kelly calls Kara’s second phase of grief. Her first stage, denial, went longer than Kelly expected so she expects the second phase to last a long time too.

It doesn’t. Kara’s anger seeps out of her quickly.

Stage three doesn’t last long either. The “what if’s” and “if only’s” just feel pointless to Kara.

She settles into stage four though. She settles into it and stays. Depression fills all the empty spaces in her apartment where you used to be, and it tries to fill the place in her heart that used to be for you. Depression stays.

Kara avoids going home because it isn’t home anymore. It’s the place you died. It’s the place where your things are scattered around everywhere like they belong, but they don’t belong anymore, because you aren’t there. You aren’t there, so the stupid mug on the nightstand shouldn’t be there anymore but it is.

You aren’t there so your clothes shouldn’t still be in her closet, and your toothbrush should be in the trash, and everything should just be gone. Everything should just be gone because you aren’t- you aren’t there.

You aren’t there and Kara hurts, because you’re supposed to be home. You’re supposed to be home with her. You're supposed to be her home.

You can’t be anymore.

Kara grows to hate the word “forever” because it’s just a whole bunch of lies, she grows to hate the word “sorry” because it’s all anyone ever says to her anymore, she grows to hate people saying “you’ll be okay” because she won’t be.

She grows to hate the word “hope.”

Hope people say, as if hope isn’t just denial trying to look pretty. Hope as if doing so isn’t just deluding yourself so things feel worth it.

Lena tells her one day that there needs to be hope, because there needs to be light. Without it you’re just lost in the darkness.

Lena tells her that but she looks uncertain, like she believes the ‘light’ is just a myth or a trick of the eye meant to just keep you moving.

So Kara hates hope, and she hates lies, but she loves love.

She loves the love, and support, and all of the things her friends give each other to make everything better for a while.

Kara hates hope but she still believes in trying anyways, so she begins to try after a while. She tries to get more sleep, she tries to spend more time with her friends, she tries to talk about feelings, and she tries to make fighting feel worth it.

She tries but she still misses. She misses desperately, but she eventually hits the final stage of acceptance.

Acceptance doesn’t feel like the final stage because Kara still hurts, and she still wants things she can never have, but she never even imagined she’d get here a year ago when you were lifeless in her bed—so this is fine.

This is fine. Kara finally places the mug on your nightstand in the sink and sobs while she washes it, but this is fine.

This is fine.

Kara wanted more than fine. She wanted you.

#kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #kara zor el x reader #kara zor el imagine #supergirl x reader #this one always gets me 😢

[thatsgay-ficrec]

When You Left My Picture Changed

pairing: shuri x plus size!black!reader

summary: motherhood was a thing you craved, your dream being to carry and give birth to your own children. you wanted a family, a wife, maybe a cat. meeting shuri gave you love, marrying her gave you a family, though your body still housed the desire to carry a life. your heart condition hindered this, however, and so did shuri's apprehension.

word count: 16.5k (look...)

contains: fluff to angst, lots of feels, pregnancy complications, miscarriage, mentions of blood (i wasn't descriptive with it though), medical issues, MAJOR character death (yours), shuri loves her wife y'all like she LOVESSSS her wife so so much poor baby, bittersweet ending(ish), implied nsfw

tags: @verachii @zayswriting @quintessencewrites @rxcently @widowmakker @blackgcomica @n7cje @dejaonline @shinsousliya @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @pinkwright @saintwrld @axailslink @mocha-aya @letitias-fav @uhwhatsay @6-noir @cuddl3s4shur1 @percsane @chidinma @shuriszn @lppriceisright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @abenomeiiii @marsolgy @la-reine-insane @shurisjournal @shurismainbxtch @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @shuriri4life @adeola-the-explorer @bubshri @playhousedistee @cafehyunji @bigbigbigfan @vixentheplanet @bratydoll

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: this is inspired by a book i read recently, before the coffee gets cold. that book really kinda destroyed me so i thought i would destroy y'all in return, as usual, i got carried away. y'all just gon have to bare with me on this one fr, like we going on this journey together. y'all better read this cause i put my pussy into this and i'm very proud of it, and i had to get this idea out of my head. it's probably the only piece of angst y'all will get outta me. but i hope youse enjoy still and i hope you shed a tear. and, though i literally cannot prove it, shuri def listens to g herbo. IDK IDK!! shouts out to oomf for translations! mwah mwah!!

translations: my other half - bambo’lwami, my person - mtuwam (all other translations are in the text)

Shuri exhaled, plummeting beside your perspiring form to admire your nakedness under the moonlight. A mellow breeze danced its way into your bedroom and past your curtains through open balcony doors, bringing with it the captivating aroma of dewy night. Their tango you were accustomed to; Shuri grew attached to the act of making love to you as the stars watched and the city listened.

Examining the aftermath of her handy work was also a thing she enjoyed, and she harbored no shame in doing so. Blown brown eyes scanned you keenly, taking in the pretty blemishes her mouth sketched into your flesh. Your breathlessness left her in awe, though you still noted the flash of concern in her eyes, as you always did, and it flamed your damp skin the longer she stared.

Her gaze still made you blush, even after all this time; she held this practiced way of not only looking at you, but peering deep within you as well. Her eyes inspected your innards in the most intimate of ways, seeing all that you were, and everything you wished to be. You loved it, being so wholly known by your love, but the action was never lacking intensity.

Shuri knew this, and she undoubtedly basked in her ability to rattle you so.

“What?” You huffed a soft giggle, unable to lay still under her continued scrutiny, and she grinned knowingly. That same grin she housed for you alone. Shuri kept it hidden from others, only ever bringing it out when in your presence. To be marveled at by the Princess — a thing of fantasies — but this fantasy was your reality.

Her lips met your sweaty temple, pressing in for longer than usual. “Let's have a baby.”

Words, and their syllables alike, knew you no longer as you gaped at your beloved in utter disbelief. “A-A baby?”

“Yes.” She brushed a stray curl from your eyes.

You blinked. Months had trekked by of you begging Shuri tirelessly for the same thing she'd just casually requested. Months of you not so subtly dropping hints: “accidentally” ending up in the children's section at the store, admiring the tiny onesies and tiny booties. Shuri always located you with ease when you wandered off, even without checking your location on her Kimoyo beads.

“We’d be amazing mothers, no?” You’d suggest, smiling big when her curls inevitably popped into the aisle. She never responded, only ever shaking her head with a soft chuckle before beckoning you along as you pouted.

It was not a thing she opted to voice out loud, and she never had to. Shuri’s apprehension was a tangible thing. A clogger of time, of space, and of your air. The force of her unrest was sometimes enough to stifle your arguments whenever the pair of you ended up on the topic of expanding your family beyond you and your kitten.

Shuri's trepidation was in no way unwarranted though. Your long-standing dream to carry and give birth to your own children was one met with support from your wife; she knew what you yearned for, however, the complications that could accompany pregnancy were where all her focus resided, given your heart condition.

It was a woe weighing heavy on her mind. Denying you was never an easy task, it was not one she was particularly fond of either, but she refused to compromise your health.

Even still, she always managed to tiptoe around the topic and it irked you, especially considering you were aware a family was also something she wanted with you. Apprehension about your health fueled her resistance, but there was no denying she held out even more due to the loss of her own loved ones. Her baba and her brother; grief marred her mind, and the prospect of losing you as well was not one she readily entertained.

Understandably so, which was why her declaration jarred you. It had never been like her to spearhead the conversation of a child, that was always your doing.

“You better not be joking with me, my love. It will not end well for you.” You narrowed your eyes at her in the dim room.

“I’m not. I know it's your dream, and I want all of your dreams to come to pass.” She sported a concrete grin, this was her way of cementing her decree. Shuri was not lying. This was not one of her ruses.

Her easy way of adorning you with reassuring words would forever be a thing you refused to grow used to. “How long have you been thinking about this one my love?”

Shuri laughed, trying, and failing to conceal a blush as she bit her lip, “Can I be honest?”

“Please.”

“I hadn't really thought about it. Not seriously anyway, or at least not about doing it in the way you want until moments ago.”

Your smirk grew and she shied away. “You mean just then? When you were inside of me?”

“Don't say it like that please, ugh. I can change my mind, you know?” Shuri turned away from you then, shoving her face deep into her pillow to hide the embarrassment covering her cheeks.

“Oh, you are so cute! You want to get me pregnant, Princess?”

She groaned when you tugged her jaw to face you. “Will you stop it? I'm begging, you're making me sound like a pervert. I just want to have a baby with my wife, Bast!”

You giggled, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before nuzzling into her bare chest. You listened for her heartbeat, the stuttering thump of it, and the corners of your lips curled against her body. The rattling inside her was uneven — it was erratic and irregular as it often was after sex. Yours was like that, more so than Shuri's, more so than anyones. You loved it because it gave you a fraction of normalcy. How could your own heart be faulty if your wife’s beat similarly?

“So, you would like to have a baby with me?” You questioned, surveying her deeply and she nodded.

Shuri cupped your face, swatting away a rogue tear that made a home for itself under your left eye with the pad of her thumb. She hoisted her digit to her lips, sucking sweetly on the droplet and you gasped. “Yes.”

“A baby I will carry.”

She nodded again, “A baby you shall carry, my love.”

“Shuri… you know how badly I want this. You know how long I have wished–”

She placed her delicate lips on yours, catching you off guard, but you dissolved into it all the same. “We are one,” A warm palm pressed itself into your ever-jumping chest, and she lifted your own to hers. “Our hearts beat as one. I want what you want, our wishes are the same. So, have a baby with me, beloved. Hmm?”

A grin bright enough to outshine the moon and her glimmering children plastered itself onto your face. “Okay.”

Shuri’s laugh resounded, and so did your giggles as she kissed you all over. Her lips brushed all of you: Cheeks and lips. Neck and chest. She licked a long line down your abdomen, sucking your hips as a final pit stop before her tongue found your drenched core for the umpteenth time that night. And you gave her what she wanted, fingers tangling in her hair as gorgeous cries crept out your depths from the sweet sweet sensation of your wife devouring you entirely.

•••

Shuri skipped excitedly down the brightly lit hospital hallway alongside her brother, braids swaying to and fro with enthusiasm that rivaled her own. The Princess's smile was one to be awed at. Experiencing thrill inside walls such as the ones surrounding them now was not a typical occurrence, but for the young genius, her current environment was one of familiarity.

Plucking Shuri from her permanent post down in her lab always proved to be tricky, the act requiring a certain type of finesse, the type only her big brother possessed. He completed the task with ease and always on the first try. T’challa also held awareness of his sister's unyielding passion to help those who she could, and he took advantage of that more frequently than he would ever be willing to admit.

An abundance of the technology being used inside the building came alive first, in her lab, and Shuri could unabashedly affirm it excited her to see her creations be put to use in the way she and her team intended. T’challa knew this about his sister, and it was this very knowledge that convinced the teenage girl to accompany him on his monthly visit to Wakanda’s Medical Center.

Typically, this was a journey made by him and Nakia, an activity cherished by them both. But, Nakia happened to be otherwise preoccupied with the planning of her next mission, and she encouraged her beloved to have his sister tag along in her place.

So here he was, strolling casually beside his dearest little sister, shaking his head playfully at the joy her body housed.

He smiled as he peered over at Shuri, “If I didn't know any better, I would say you little sister, are delighted to be here.”

Shuri bobbed her head in agreement, “I am.”

“I don't think the patients in this hospital would take too kindly to your chipper demeanor, especially considering some of them are not likely to make it. We are here only to offer comfort and compassion to those who may need it. We aren't here for games, Shuri.”

Shuri rolled her eyes at her brother’s statement as she strode ahead of him. “So serious all the time brother. I’m delighted to help, that is what I meant.”

He nodded when Shuri tossed a glance over her shoulder, swallowing his laughter as they began their rounds.

After an hour, the Princess found herself growing bored of the way her brother chose to do things, so, to no one's surprise, she wandered. Shuri explored various wings of the hospital, most of which were plagued by the crushing weight of melancholy. She did not enjoy this, but it was to be expected, and she did what she could to ease the minds of those who were open to her brand of comfort, patients and their families alike.

She couldn't help but scoff at the thought of her brother's impending I told you so; she knew it was underway once he caught wind of her excursions.

The maternity ward carried a different feel than the ones she'd previously traveled to though. There was a sense of hope residing there, a semblance of love for new life, and this, she appreciated. Shuri stood in front of the glass window, peering at the newborn babies behind it and she couldn't fight her growing smile. The Princess valued new life; new life came with the potential for greatness, this was an ideal bestowed upon her by her big brother, and it was an ideal she held in high regard

Amidst her admiration, the brush of a presence crept up beside her, and with this presence came the aroma of watermelon and something minty that she could not pinpoint. The scent combination was heady though, and it pulled on her attention.

Shuri’s gaze shifted from the babies to the body of a girl standing impossibly close to her. This puzzled her, because they were the only two in front of the window, there was enough room for each of them to stand comfortably apart. She grew amused at the sight, the girl was on her tippy toes as she peered beyond the glass, totally compelled by the babbling infants and their squirming. It was quite cute, to say the least, and the Princess’s intrigue began to bustle.

Brown eyes scanned the girl: a white gown draped her body, stopping right above her ankles, and the Princess smiled softly at the cute fuzzy socks covering her feet; they were black and white, and seemed to mirror the cartoon image of panda’s. A large puff sat still atop her head, perfectly round and kinky and adorably messy. Her complexion was a little washed, but the deepness of her skin’s brown still shone through resiliently, robbing the Princess of the air she once breathed.

Shuri had never witnessed eyes so shiny, so striking. They studied the babies with love and something she could only read as want. The girl before her, wore beauty so gracefully, as though she was crafted to stun. And she stunned Shuri, she left every last one of her nerves shot.

She understood now, T’challa’s tendency to freeze each time he looked at Nakia, because Shuri was indeed frozen.

Her feet resisted movement, and despite each of her efforts to pick them up, her sneakers remained frosted to the vinyl flooring. Shuri's lips hung agape and her eyes bulged as she watched the girl. Her heart, oh her poor wayward heart, it smacked against her chest so violently, one would think they were at odds and her internal organs were plotting a coup.

And when this majestic girl smiled, it reached her eyes and they beamed brighter, which the Princess did not think was a thing of possibility. Shuri was certain there was no smile that could ever compare to the one she gawked at now. It was warm, and enough to melt the frost keeping her frozen in place.

“Would you like to know why I adore babies so much, Princess?” Her voice was a song, one she sang sweetly as she clung to the cool metal of her IV pole. Shuri, like many others, was an enjoyer of good music, and this melody bleeding from pretty lips had now made itself her most favorite of all.

What were words? Shuri thought as she coursed her brain for a response to the question she was just asked. Her mouth moved, but Shuri only heard the deafening rattle of her heart inside her burning ears, so she opted for a weak nod, praying desperately that it would suffice for this beauty before her.

“It is easy to fall in love with them,” She drawled, and if the Princess was slightly more coherent, she would have noticed the way this girl scooted closer to her person. “They love you automatically, and once you realize this, that this tiny human loves you and needs you, it isn't hard to reciprocate that love.”

Shuri nodded again, still chasing after words, still gaping in wonder. This girl was wondrous, she'd discerned.

“I think it speaks to the simplicity of life, or rather the simplicity life could potentially hold. I think it makes the act of loving, simpler as well. Won’t you agree, Princess?” She hadn't turned to face Shuri as she spoke, not once; her pretty eyes were left locked on the newborns she adored so wholly the entire while, and this served to heighten Shuri’s fascination.

She bobbed her head once more with an ever-muddled mind, consuming the poetic tone in which this girl spoke, committing each syllable to memory. This feeling wasn't one she could not recognize. She understood it completely; Shuri was enamored by this girl and her presence. But the sensation remained foreign still, and the rapidness in which it arrived was not a speed she was accustomed to, nor was it one she'd anticipated.

The girl turned finally, glancing at the Princess briefly before returning her focus to the babies, and Shuri noted their shoulders were now pressed into each other. The pressure was magnificent, one she wanted to know forever.

“Bye.” One word and she was off, and so was her touch. The only thing left in her wake was the smell she carried with her. Shuri found herself appreciating the remnants of the aroma, like it was a gift this girl awarded to her, a gift she would cherish for as long as she was allowed.

She inhaled the scent, smiling faintly to herself before muttering, “Bye…”

The girl’s form was long gone at that point, but her likeness lingered, in the air and inside of the Princess.

When she reunited with T’challa later that day, Shuri's smile still blared, and her brother grew curious. “Do you feel fulfilled by your visit, little sister?”

She chuckled softly, dipping her head to conceal her blush as she recalled the gorgeous girl who put it there, and how she felt it would now be a permanent part of her features. “Yes, brother. I am fulfilled.”

•••

One week. One entire week had passed following the conversation between you and Shuri about starting your family. Shuri hadn't mentioned it when she woke; she merely went about her morning routine of getting your things ready for the day as she hummed. The topic was neglected during breakfast, with Shuri placing your plate before you as she sat. She grabbed your hand, like always, diving into her plate silently.

Watching her, and anticipating her words proved useless when she stood to clear the table. She kissed your cheek on her way out the door, calling a quick I love you over her shoulder, and she was off. You realized then, that your wife's declaration couldn't have been one of sincerity, not if it had been so easy for her to avoid the subject all together the next day. And the acceptance of that hurt.

Days seeped into evenings into nights, and your body burned with the passing of time, it sizzled in irritation the longer she ignored your obvious frustration. Tonight though, you’d decided you’d had enough of the waiting, and enough of this promise that forever remained empty. The foreseeable conversation with your wife would be one that produced answers and results.

Arriving home early to cook her favorite meal as a means to lure her in and lower her guard was the plan; resisting your cooking was a tough task for Shuri, you’d learned this fairly early on in your marriage, and it became a go-to tactic of getting what you wanted out of her. Never once had it failed you, and it wouldn't tonight.

“How was your day, bambo’lwami? You seem tense.” Shuri questioned as she toyed with your hand across the dinner table, spinning the stunning silver rings adorning your ring finger mindlessly.

A manicured thumb brushed the sizable purple stone sitting pretty on your digit, and you listened for her blow of laughter. It was like clockwork, Shuri needed only a glimpse of your engagement ring to plunge herself deep within the memories from the day she proposed, and there she dwelled, for as long as you permitted her to. An endearing habit, from the most endearing woman.

Maintaining your stern attitude was proving to be an impossible task the longer you allowed your eyes to stay locked on your now entwined fingers, a break was inevitable, this you knew. “It was nice. We're on the chapter about long division now, and I was reminded I am in no way a maths person.”

“I, for one, love numbers and long division. I don't enjoy remainders though, I like my answers concise.” Shuri smiled at you; her voice gave it away.

Seeing Shuri’s face had never been necessary when assessing if she was indeed peering at you; the feel of her searing stare had been a thing you'd made yourself familiar with long ago. It held a certain intensity back then, and it's only grown in weight since the two of you were teenagers.

You let your eyes flutter up to catch hers, learning you were correct. She wore a grin, one that widened at the sight of your deep browns, and it was then that you cracked, albeit slightly. “Maybe you should come teach my students then, hmm?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her light chuckle pulled one out of you and you bit your lip as you eyed her face. Bast, she was so beautiful, and said beauty whisked your breath away each day. Her power was immense in that way, and it shattered your facade entirely. “You're staring, lovely girl.”

You shook your head with a shy smile, “I know.”

“If there's food in my teeth, I’m blaming you.” Her laugh was louder now, and you allowed it to wash over you like rain. You imagined a little girl, whose chest housed that same booming laughter, running, and giggling across the palace floors as Shuri chased her. She would be an amazing mother, she had the heart for it, the fortitude, her patience with you told you that much.

“While we're on the topic of children…”

She made a soft curious sound in the back of her throat, something resembling a whine, and Shuri tilted her head. “Are we on the topic of children? From my understanding we were speaking about maths, and how much you suck at it.”

“I'm being serious, Shuri.” You warned, but the amusement never left her pupils.

“So am I.”

You sighed, feeling defeated before you even got a chance to begin. Shuri always managed to shift the subject with her humor, and usually, you let her because an argument would do neither of you any good. But you wouldn't bend so easily tonight, you refused to. “Shuri, do you remember what you said to me last week, when we were in bed?”

“Not entirely, no, but I'm sure it was obscene. You want to refresh my memory? Tell me what I said to you in bed, sthandwa, repeat it for me.” The seductive slur of her sentence had you squeezing your legs together, protesting her pull and the hold she had over you.

Your frustration began its bustling once more, and an exasperated sigh left your lips, “Shuri, can you please not joke? Just this once, I am trying to have a serious conversation with you.” Clearing the table silently was your only sense of solace, and you did so as your wife watched you, amused.

“You know, now that I'm thinking about it. I do recall a chat, a brief one, in between all the pretty sounds you were making for me.” She smirked, clearly seeking to rile you up, but you decided it was best not to react. Instead, you placed both your plates in the sink, turning on the faucet as you waited for her to continue. Shuri's tone of voice let you know there was more to be said, and it would be a lie to say you weren't curious about where she planned to steer this conversation.

She stood then, making her way over to you at the sink, and snaked her arms around your abdomen. Your eyes panned down to how she held you, they trained on how her inked fingers interlocked across your stomach, and you exhaled. You were tense before she touched you, all knotted up over the continuous cycle that never panned out in your favor, but you melted now — you melted for your wife. “Shuri.”

“Yes, it's coming to me now,” Shuri bent down, kissing your neck before hooking her chin over your shoulder, and you couldn't help inhaling the floral mist of her perfume. “Was there mention of us having a baby? No, that can't be right. That doesn't sound like me. Does that sound like me, sthandwa?”

“Shuri.”

When she chuckled, it vibrated through you, and the waves began to chip away at your frustration. “My love, do you really think I've forgotten our conversation?”

“No, I don't. But I do think you're avoiding the subject, like you always do.”

“If I’d been avoiding it, would I have gotten us an appointment with a fertility specialist for next week?” That sly grin of hers was back now, you could hear it in her words, feel it on your skin as her mouth moved.

You dropped the soapy plate, not caring if it shattered in the sink as you spun to face your wife. “You did what?”

“I'm sure you heard me.” And again, you were correct, the smile on her face was one of pride and it only grew the longer you gazed up at her. Something came over you then, and you smacked her, hard against her chest causing her to wince.

“Ouch!”

“That's for making me think you’d lied.”

“Have I ever lied to you, my love?” She questioned, dramatically rubbing the spot where you hit her and you rolled your eyes.

“Not that I know of.”

She softened her tone, doing away with every ounce of levity it previously held. “Then why would you assume I've lied now? That I would lie about this?”

“This is the first time we've spoken about having a child together in a week.” Meek were your words; timid and unsure as you let them tumble from your lips, and you dipped your head. But your wife was having none of that, she hoisted your chin lovingly with her pointer finger, reveling in your beauty and the shy way you bit your lip before her.

Her smile was back again, tugging along with it, a hint of mischief. “Truthfully, I was only waiting to see how long you’d go before your frustration got the better of you. A week is far longer than I predicted.”

You hit her again, and this time she laughed, causing you to mirror her action.

“Now,” Shuri kissed you deeply, tugging you toward your room. “Are you going to let me put a baby in you?”

You giggled against her mouth, allowing her to rip your blouse open hungrily as if you hadn't just fed her, and you listened for the chorus of buttons descending to and clattering on the floor. “I don't think it works that way, Shuri.”

“Care to test that hypothesis?”

•••

The gleam of Shuri’s smile reflected brightly in the window before her as she kept her eyes on the newborns she’d grown fond of watching. In all honesty, her initial return to the hospital was not entirely for them, but over the last three days, Shuri realized there was peace in observing, and they became a calming distraction as she waited.

As the minutes ticked by, she was beginning to believe her reason for showing up would not be gracing her with her presence today, and she grew impatient the longer she was made to stand alone. Pretty babies did what they could to hold her attention, but the pretty girl she'd arrived to see held the most space in her mind. Usually, the two girls would be shoulder to shoulder already, a feeling Shuri found herself chasing, one she missed on her return to the palace, and it was a sensation that slithered its way into her dreams as she slept.

When she turned to leave, the squeaking of wheels made her wince, and the noise barred her from doing so. She turned her body to face the window of babies once more, and there she was, outlined beneath all that hair floating above her head, donning it as one would a crown.

“Were you about to leave, Princess?” She didn't move, nor had she thrown a glance Shuri's way, and yet, the Princess's breath stuttered anyway, merely from listening to this girl speak.

“I-I was, but I think, I think I will stay n-now, since you're here.” Shuri was proud of herself and her ability to say words today, but she still blushed when the girl giggled at the crack in her voice towards the end of her sentence.

She nodded, gesturing for Shuri to join her, and the Princess did so excitedly. “You were waiting for me.”

“I was.” She watched the girl watch the babies, and she allowed the fire inside her chest to flicker alive. Shuri could control it, she believed in her ability to.

Silence befell the teenage girls shortly after, a comforting one, Shuri thought, one that felt like home, and she recalled something her brother said about his relationship with Nakia.

“If you are able to sit in silence with the one you love, and have it be comforting, it is likely that you’ve found your one. Their presence being enough to soothe speaks to your connection.”

She’d made fun of him then, but now, this quote became one she could not wrestle away. Had this feeling stirred awake by this girl been love? Shuri wasn't sure, she'd never been in love before. Regardless of her confusion, three things made themselves abundantly clear: the sweet mist of watermelon clinging to this girl brought her comfort, the press of their shoulders grounded her in a world where they existed alone, and her presence certainly did its part in soothing the Princess.

It startled Shuri, as she gawked at this beauty now; the notion that she could very well love this girl after only knowing her a short while, but the acceptance of the idea wasn't one she felt needed debating.

“You haven't asked me. In the three days you've visited, not once have you asked me.” The girl peered up at Shuri with amused irises and she let her curious smile slip.

Shuri's eyebrow jumped, but she matched the mirth swimming in the pretty eyes that gaped at her. “Asked you what?”

“What's wrong with me.”

“What's wrong with you?” Shuri's question was not one meant to be invasive, because the thought that something could be wrong with the girl in front of her now was never one that crossed her mind, she simply repeated what was said to her out of confusion.

“My heart hates me.”

This revelation wasn't one the Princess understood, and that spoke volumes, because there was very little that Shuri found herself unable to comprehend. How could one’s heart hate them? Organs were not sentient. But she wasn't sure that was a thing she still believed, not when her own heart seemed to be breathing and brimming with a life of its own inside her flaming sternum as she stood next to this girl.

She watched as the girl read her expression on her reflection in the glass and her giggle only served to perplex Shuri more. “What?”

“My heart, she hates me. I assumed you wanted to know what was wrong with me, why I’m here, even though you’d been too polite to ask. I was born with a weak heart.”

Personifying her heart, Shuri found this to be fitting for this girl she had grown attached to, and it made her blood rush. Understanding flushed through the Princess then, and she continued gaping at the beauty this girl housed. “I wasn't–”

“Your staring gave it away, Princess. Just as your staring now is giving away the way you're racking your brain, trying to conclude what condition I could possibly have, if there's a cure, if you can cure me.”

Did she think Shuri's staring was to gauge her ailment? Sure, she was aware there had to be reasons for her residing in a hospital, reasons she lugged an IV around, but Shuri’s focus was never on that, it was only ever on her captivating aura and the effortless way she wormed her way into her cells.

“Does a weak heart prevent you from loving?”

For the first time over the past three days, the girl turned to face Shuri, and it was more than a once-over, she allowed Shuri to capture her gaze. The Princess marveled at the swirling deep browns peering up at her now, and the awe dancing inside. The question wasn't one she'd planned to ask, but it jabbed its way out of her throat and past her lips, warranting an answer.

The girl dipped her head, and it was an action the Princess recognized all too well; she was attempting to bury a blush. “No. It does not.”

“Does a weak heart prohibit your ability to receive love?”

She gasped softly at Shuri’s question, seemingly overwhelmed by the pressing force of it, and she shook her head. Shuri’s pride blared, satisfied with this role reversal — now it was she who snatched this girl’s breath and held her words in captivity.

“So, how can you believe there is something wrong with you? How can you conclude that your heart hates you? When she has never hindered you in such ways?”

She bit her lip, admiring Shuri's face and the sincerity coloring her features. “I think you're the woman I’m going to marry.”

“You will probably spend most of your nights in my lab if you do.” Shuri snorted, smirking sweetly at the girl with wistful browns.

•••

Your skin tightened under the harsh chill of the exam room as you waited. One would think a lifetime of doctor’s visits and spending most of your teen years in and out of the very hospital you were in now, would be preparation enough for an appointment such as this one. But believing that only served to showcase your naïveté, because, despite all of your run-ins with doctors, and nurses, and hospital rooms, none of those encounters rattled your entire nervous system in this way.

Shuri’s warm palm cupped your leaping knee, settling you as she flashed you that sweet smile you loved so much. “Bambo’lwami, I can hear your heart, it’s beating too fast. You need to calm down my love.”

“Maybe I would be able to calm down if it wasn’t so damn cold in this room. Is it normal for a hospital’s temperature to feel as though we are residing in Jabariland? Bast!”

A deep chuckle rumbled from Shuri’s pretty lips, and she used them to press a kiss to your temple. “I can assure you, lovely girl, that the temperature in this room is normal. Now,” She flattened her palm against the small of your back, massaging soft circles into your spine above your top. “Inhale for me?”

You obeyed her instruction, shutting your eyes and inhaling a large gust of air through your nose.

“That’s good, my lovely girl, hold it.” Her warm fingers still traced your back, and Shuri guided you lovingly through your exhale. “Now out, nice and slow. Perfect. You did so well, and I can already hear that heart rate decreasing. Few more times for me?”

Shuri ghosted her delicate lips over yours, letting them linger for a few beats, and you sighed into her mouth. This was the final step in her plan to relax you, and it was one of success, though she hadn't seemed at all surprised by her ability to. Your nerves still wrestled with each other inside you, but the match seemed to be coming to a close now. All because of your Shuri, who read you so deeply, assessing the exact thing you needed, even when your own desires were lost on you.

Her forehead pressed to yours, and you allowed her warmth the opportunity to slither its way through you. “Dr. Chara is the top fertility specialist in the country, and she happens to be a friend. These results will be perfect, trust me when I tell you you are in good hands, great hands my love.”

“I trust you.”

Just as Shuri removed her forehead from yours, Dr. Chara reentered the exam room. It was timed so perfectly, you were certain the act was deliberate on Shuri's end.

“Molweni.” You dipped your head, smiling nervously at the gorgeous doctor before you. “How are we feeling?”

It was an unnecessary question, you thought, surely your distress painted every inch of your perspiring face, was your rapidly bouncing knee not enough to answer this question? For a doctor, she did not appear to be observant.

Shuri’s palm found your knee again, and she gripped it firmly this time. “My apologies, she's a little nervous.”

“And that's normal.” Dr. Chara addressed you directly as she perched herself on the rolling white stool in the room. “Nerves are to be expected, but I can assure you, the results from your HSG are just as your wife predicted. We detected no blockage in your fallopian tubes. Everything is functioning in the way it's supposed to.”

The sigh that escaped you was one of relief, and Shuri pecked your cheek. She’d been right, you hadn't doubted her, but solid confirmation held more weight in this instance. “So this means we can move forward with the intrauterine insemination, correct? Because I do not want her doing IVF, it's too invasive, and I refuse to put any more strain on her body. This potential pregnancy already has her heart rate and blood pressure on the climb.”

You rolled your eyes, and Dr. Chara took note of your frustration. It wasn't unlike Shuri to take the lead in this conversation, she’d done the same thing during your first appointment, and she spends most of your nights in the bedroom reciting facts about possible risks and complications that may occur when coupled with your condition. Her behavior was not to be a deterrent, this you knew; Shuri only wanted you to be equipped with enough information before any important decisions were made.

And you appreciated her efforts wholeheartedly, but at times, it pained you to admit they could be discouraging. “I'm sure Dr. Chara knows all of this already, Shuri.”

“Your wife is correct, Princess. My recommendation, given your wife's condition, and considering the results of her hysterosalpingography, would be to move forward with the IUI. Now, this could involve medication, to ensure that you are ovulating if you otherwise would not be, or a trig–”

Shuri shook her head, “There is no need for a trigger shot or medication, I can tell you exactly when her ovulatory cycle will begin.”

“Shuri.”

“No, I know your body,” She tore her intense gaze from you reluctantly, placing it on Dr. Chara. “I know her body. There is no need for unnecessary steps that hold the potential of doing more harm than good. She will begin ovulating in three days from now. And it is my understanding that the procedure takes place a day or two after that, correct?”

Dr. Chara’s eyes fluttered to yours, and she studied you, analyzing your silence in all this before flicking her tablet off. “Yes, that is correct, Princess.”

“Okay. Then we will move forward with this.”

“And does this work for your wife, Princess?” Her question was coated in something you could not decipher, though the low growl simmering in Shuri's chest made you acutely aware it was not a tone signifying partnership. The two intelligent women were in a standoff in front of you, each unwilling to falter, each believing they had your best interest at heart.

Your tug on Shuri’s wrist caused the sound to dissipate, and her hard-set eyes softened when they found you, returning to their resting hue. “Does all of this work for you, my love?”

“Shuri, do you mind if I have a moment alone with Dr. Chara?”

There was a sigh, and she glanced over at her friend before turning back to you. “Okay, I’ll wait in the lobby.”

“Thank you, mtuwam.”

Like her commanding attitude, Shuri's hesitation to leave the room was something breathable, inhaled by both you and the doctor sitting patiently before you. But eventually she departed, taking with her the stifling fog that previously clogged the room, and you exhaled.

“Sorry about…her.” You laughed awkwardly and Dr. Chara matched it with a warm smile.

“Oh, I've worked with your wife on many different occasions, I know how she gets on. But this is not about her, it is about you, and your body.”

You exhaled again, nodding as you took in the doctor's words. This was about your body.

She cleared her throat, “She may not have been exactly polite in the way she went about it, but Shuri was indeed correct about everything she said. You are familiar with the way IUI works, yes?”

“I'm familiar with Shuri's briefings, yes.”

The two of you laughed at this, and it relaxed you. You felt comfortable with this woman, good, comfortability was a huge thing for you in these situations. “And she was correct about your ovulatory cycle?”

You nodded, “Yes. I will begin ovulating in three days.”

“Perfect. Now, onto the process. Are you familiar with the process?” Dr. Chara tilted her head and her scarlet locs shifted along with her. Your reflection was visible in the lenses of her glasses and you couldn't help but feel you looked like a child: brimming with curiosity and in search of guidance.

“Yes, but a refresher wouldn't hurt.”

She grinned, “No, it would not.”

“Alright so the day that you are ovulating, you will return here, to me. Your chosen sperm sample will be cleaned… You should feel no pain during this procedure, but there could be mild discomfort from the speculum…”

You bobbed your head at each of her words, storing every sentence in your mind, every syllable. It was true that you knew a lot of this already, through Shuri, but hearing it from the person performing the procedure offered a little more piece of mind.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

You bit your lip, pondering the only question you'd ever had about all of this, “Does wanting a baby make me selfish?”

“Why would wanting a baby be selfish?”

You shook your head, “With everything considered. My heart, the risks, the stress. I can't help but feel I'm being selfish.”

“Your body is powerful. Do you agree with that?”

“Ewe.” (yes)

She continued, “Life is precious. Choosing to use the precious life that was breathed into you to bring another into this world is not a decision made lightly, particularly in your case. But you know your body, it is powerful, as you've said. It's powerful, and it is yours. Now, I'm not certain this answers your question, but it's all I've got.”

You let a wet laugh escape you as you heeded her words: Your body was powerful, and it was yours.

•••

“Do you often picture your future, Princess?” She laid on her side, hands clasped beneath her cheek as she admired Shuri, who in turn, admired her. The Princess nestled deeper into the hospital sheets, stroking the girl’s side gently with the simple goal of making her shudder beneath her touch.

Shuri waited a beat before offering up a response, she waited for the inevitable shiver from the girl before her, and she spoke only after witnessing her forearms prickle under protruding goosebumps. “I picture my future with you in it. You are the only construct my mind creates when I think of what’s to come.”

“Princess…” She giggled, and it brought about Shuri’s grin. She enjoyed the feeling, the one that followed each time she made her beautiful girl blush.

Fingers climbed her sides, her arms, stopping on her chubby cheek, and Shuri marveled at the deepness of her glowing skin before caressing her face entirely. “It's true. I never want to know a life without you in it, I never wish to frame an image that doesn't house your face, lovely girl.”

“Speak this promise of a future together into my heart, Princess. Remind her that we've found yet another reason to continue our fight.”

And that she did. A heated palm pushed into her girl's chest, gentle, but willfully firm, and she shook under the collision. “Give me this,” Shuri instructed, reaching for her girl's moisturized hand, and she inhaled the intoxicating whiff of watermelon and mint she so proudly got drunk on before pressing the smaller palm up against her own heart.

“Do you feel that? My heartbeat?” The girl inhaled sharply, eyes sinking into Shuri's face as she bobbed her head. “It beats this way because of you.”

“And my own stammers because of you, Princess.”

Shuri giggled at this, and she proudly wore her blush this time, no longer ashamed of the desperation brought to life by this gorgeous girl. “So. Our hearts beat as one, it seems.”

“Seems that they do.”

A soft kiss was planted directly on the back of her girl's hand; Shuri was devious with the action, letting her lips linger, and studying the way in which her girl squirmed from the simple brush of affection. “Now what are these other reasons for your continued fight? Perhaps I can assist with those as well.”

“Well, Princess, babies of course!” And out came that smile, the one that rayed like the Sun, turning every cell in Shuri's body into complete mush as she melted for her love.

“Ah yes. You are quite fond of babies.”

•••

Waiting. Not an activity you were partial to, but fortunately, you were no stranger to it — your virtuous patience developed against your will, but it was a tool utilized fully now. Two weeks, Dr. Chara instructed you to wait two weeks post-procedure before returning for an HCG blood test or before taking an at-home pregnancy test.

Waiting ceased to be an issue…for you.

For your wife, however, the word itself took on a completely different meaning. One would think, as a scientist, as someone who understood the process of creating new life, Shuri of all people would be the calmest. Or at the very least one would assume she would offer the most reassurance, but reality did not mirror your thoughts.

She became erratic, her impatience morphing into something palpable and muggy, resulting in the deed of centering falling on your shoulders. Not only did you have to monitor your own body; monitoring Shuri's became your responsibility as well. A task that was your normal on any other day, a task you happily completed, but the course of the past few days birthed something entirely different from her usual mannerisms.

Shuri arrived home late most nights, she ate at odd hours, and it was apparent she'd been holding her tongue on certain topics. She still held you close each night though, offering you her warmth, the heat you craved. But questioning her about her distance was difficult, because Shuri was usually out the door before you woke in the mornings.

Trapping her, like one would a rat, seemed to be your only option. So you made your way to her lab in the dead of night, not at all surprised to see Shuri alone in the dim space, sporting an exhausted expression as she worked on a concoction. The early days of your marriage were spent here, with you admiring her, and learning how her brain worked up close.

“Princess, your wife has arrived.” She spun at the roar of the AI’s voice, her knotted features relaxing and morphing into a broad smile at the sight of you stepping off the elevator.

“Hello, my lovely girl.” Shuri pulled you in, looping her arms around your waist and you hugged her back, inhaling her perfume on command. She kissed you briefly, and you found yourself chasing the press of her lips on yours, wanting more of her, all of her.

“Shuri, do you know what time it is?”

She moved back to her work, zoning out partially before awarding you with an answer. “Uh, a little after two in the morning.”

“You know this, and yet you aren't–” She zoomed past you, dashing from one station to the next, and you observed the frantic way in which her hands moved. “And yet you aren't at home in bed.”

“I’ll be done here shortly, you're welcome to wait.”

You sighed, ordering your heart to steady. Shuri hadn't seemed to notice the strain in your words, but the thumping in your chest, that, you knew she was privy to.

“Shuri.”

As the pounding increased, her motions ceased, and she turned to face you. “My love, your hear–”

“Shuri, you knew.”

She approached you in seconds, attempting to ease you into your breathing exercises as she shook her head in confusion. “Knew what? Breathe, my love, breathe.”

“You knew, Shuri. That’s why y-you..” Your exhale bloomed out of you jaggedly, nipping at the back of your throat, and you greeted the pain it brought about as a gracious host would.

“Bambo’lwami, please breathe with me.” Accepting her palm on your back and the circles she rubbed into you seemed like a joke now, because all this time she'd been lying to you.

This realization caused you to shrug from her hold, and frantic eyes scanned your form. “I'm not pregnant, Shuri.”

“No.” She sighed in front of you, granting permission to the deepest of frowns, allowing it to nestle into her face, her beautiful face. “You aren't.”

You gasped. Not a question, but a matter-of-fact statement, confirming your suspicion. “How long? How long have you known?”

“I sensed the shift in your hormones about four days ago.”

“Lying to me for four days and allowing me to believe there was still a chance, instead of being truthful and consoling me. Is this the way we do things in this marriage, Shuri? We lie? We keep secrets?”

Shuri’s attempt to reach for you was not one you allowed, you shoved her away angrily, and she flinched. The hurt on her face you decoded swiftly; never had you denied her touch, and if her expression was to be an indication, not having access to your body did not settle inside her well. “Secrets about my body, Shuri. Mine.”

She stepped toward you once more, desperate arms outstretched, but again, you rejected her. “Let me explain, cela.” (please)

“Was this a joke to you, Shuri?”

Shuri charged to you now, despite your protests, cupping your face with both palms as you wept. Your tears were being flicked away at the same speed in which they arrived, and Shuri pressed your foreheads together. “Nothing about your health is a joke to me, my love.”

“Then why keep this from me?”

She huffed a wet breath, neglecting her own streaming eyes so she could focus on yours. “Disappointing you, hurting you like this, wasn't something I saw myself able to do. But, ultimately I did so anyway. Because here you are, crying, as a result of my actions. Irony is fickle in that way.”

“You should've told me, Shuri.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. Bast, I'm so sorry, lovely girl.” She kissed you, and you allowed it, because her lips could very well be the only thing able to hold your pieces together right now. You imagined falling apart, envisioned letting yourself shatter altogether.

This outcome hadn't been one wrapped in surprise, nor was it an uncommon one. Dr. Chara had explained the success rate of your procedure, she’d given you the percentages, and while they weren't the highest, you extended an olive branch to hope, pleading for at the very least, a tug of friendship between you both. She remained a finicky thing, your friend Hope — taking, sucking, bleeding you dry — leaving you forever drained with very little fight left in you.

“I’m going home, Shuri.” And as you turned to exit, your wife captured your hand, holding tightly to it, as though her very existence were tangled in your tremoring palm. Shuri grew fearful, you realized, as you peered into her deep eyes, fearful that allowing you to leave without following behind would result in her never seeing you again. An irrational belief, you were sure she too knew this, but rationale no longer resided within your wife. Not after she’d witnessed you in tears, tears that still flooded your face, tears that emerged from her deception.

Shuri squeezed your digits, giving you a weak smile. “I'm coming with you.”

Once in bed, snuggled tightly in her arms, you relinquished your body to her, and frustration knew you no more. Truthfully you’d known the entire time; most of your frustration was not directed at your wife, but too much of it had been aimed at your body, too much of it had been aimed toward your battered heart.

She kissed your temple as she rocked you, craving nothing more than to relay comfort, wanting only to ease your mind, and it was then that you allowed your words to fly free from your throat. “I want to try again.”

Shuri hummed, watching your curtains sway in the breeze as she tucked your pretty head beneath her chin, allowing only a single tear to fall for you. “I want what you want, my love.”

•••

“Shuri look at it, I can't do it,” You shielded your eyes, nerves rattling as you awaited the results of the pregnancy test sitting on the bathroom counter before you and your wife. “No, wait! Don't look!”

She giggled beside you, clearly elated by the sheer joy you exuded. “It doesn't matter if I look, my love, I’ve already told you that you are indeed pregnant.”

“But how do you know? You don't know!”

The brush of her tender lips on your neck iced your body, and when Shuri’s fingers grazed your stomach, a shiver flooded your spine. “I know your body,” She inhaled your scent. “And this body, this perfect body of yours, has a baby inside of it. Well, it wouldn't be entirely human yet. The brain is probably forming, and a head, a mangled-looking face, maybe tiny little holes that will result in nostrils, eventually. Also, there's a heartbeat, and–”

“Shuri.”

“I'm just saying. You are pregnant, you're going to have a baby, my love.”

You grinned, finally confident enough to glance at the pregnancy test, and a gasp flung itself out of your mouth. “It's positive… Shuri, I’m–”

“You're pregnant, sthandwa, yes.” Her grin crept sweetly to her lips, lips that you crashed your own into for a heated kiss, leaping onto her, and wrapping your legs around her waist. Shuri giggled against your mouth as she held you, stumbling backward under the press of many harsh pecks to her cheeks, her neck, her nose; she found herself needing to shut her eyes, because you kissed her there too.

The backs of her shins hit the bed, and she plummeted, pulling you all the way down with her. “Shuri.”

“Yes?” Her hands kneaded your thick thighs as you straddled her abdomen, and radiance lived within her smile. Her delight was a result of your own, because she loved you, and said love would exist forever as Shuri’s greatest superpower. Her Panther gifts were nothing comparable.

“We're going to be mamas!” You squealed, bending forward to kiss her passionately, and the longer she sucked on your tongue, the faster your need for her grew. It bustled in your depths, coming alive the second Shuri slipped a hand under your panties.

She hiked up your sleep shirt, tugging slightly on your waistband with a smirk that made your core throb. “Seems that we are.”

•••

“Now,” Dr. Chara began cautiously, and that singular word thickened your air; something wasn't right. Typically, her voice cascaded down on you with the grace of water flowing from heavenly falls, today though, her falls seemed to have run dry, and her words were brittle. “I have received the results from your ultrasound...”

Your prolonged silence stirred up a myriad of emotions, and a spinning mind wasted no time leaping off the nearest cliff, diving head-first into the rapids of worst possible scenarios. And of course, Shuri, who stood confidently beside you, picked up on your shift in mood.

“As of right now, there was no heartbeat detected. But I do not want to jump to conclusions, sometimes–”

Shuri interjected, her expanding anger becoming a stifler, and like your mind’s rapids, you fully prepared to let it pull you under. “What do you mean there’s no heartbeat detected? Are you saying there is something wrong with the baby?”

“Princess, sometimes a heartbeat is not always detected this early on in the preg–”

She shook her head, unable to accept her friend's words, “There was a heartbeat yesterday, and the day before that. How is there not one now?”

“Princess, if you would let me explain instead of continuously cutting me off, you would understand that this is exactly why I am refraining from declaring this a miscarriage.”

A miscarriage. Your heart could not support this pregnancy. Your breakfast threatened a rise at the thought, and you laughed dryly. Yet another thing your body was unable to maintain. At some point you zoned out, completely muffling the heated exchange between your wife and your doctor.

You blinked, and you were on your feet, with no recollection of standing, and you staggered out of the exam room, no doubt with Shuri in pursuit. “My love…”

“I-I can't be here, Shuri. I can't.” You were hot, and you were cold, shuddering under the warmth of your sweat and your unmanageable tears.

Shuri pulled you to her chest, instinctively coaching your breathing, but it was useless, and she knew it. “She hasn't made any decisions just yet, let's just–”

“Can you honestly tell me that you believe everything is alright inside me? Do you hear a heartbeat?”

Shuri sighed, shutting her eyes tight, pinning her forehead to yours and her palm found your pumping heart. “I hear yours. I hear my own. That's all that matters to me right now.”

“How can you say that?” You backed away, rattling your wife with the abruptness, her eyes darting around wildly, searching tirelessly for her misdeed. “Shuri, we just lost our baby…”

“I just want you to be alright, my love.” Sobs flew every which way, people were beginning to stare, you didn't care though, and you did nothing to conceal your tears.

“I just lost my baby, Shuri. I am not alright.”

Pain crept up on you in the dark of night, diabolically demonic in his arrival, as he unveiled the unwanted guest assisting him with the burglary of your body: A gut-wrenching scream, one that startled the yellow-eyed black cat slumbering soundly at the foot of your bed. It woke Shuri too, and she shot to your side faster than a bullet.

“Talk to me, bambo’lwami, what do you need? Tell me.”

“Bathroom…” The only word your lips could splutter amidst the unyielding agony slithering through your abdomen, down to your thighs. Shuri nodded, already sobbing at the sight and sound of you writhing as she lugged your body to the bathroom, shakily placing you on the toilet.

Your muscles coiled; tightened; preparing to snap with each throat-rawing wail. The haste in which your bleeding accelerated knew no bounds as you rocked yourself atop the toilet seat, blistering tears racing their way down your scrunched face. Shuri kneeled before you, bawling as you did, trying her hardest to soothe, though the two of you knew your experience now was not one she could so easily quell.

“Tell me what to do! What can I do? Ndicela undyiyekhe ndikuncede!” (please let me help you)

Eyes hammered shut, knuckles whitening, you shook your head, and it was a reaction Shuri read as a refusal of aid. “My love, Ndicela.” (please)

Finding words to articulate exactly what you needed from her was the most difficult job you were tasked with. You knew you only needed her near, but you could not convey this want, and Shuri grew antsy. Standing idly by, unable to ease your anguish was a rattling fear your wife had, and here she sat, drenched in tears and steeped in your blood, watching her worst nightmare come to fruition.

Hours ticked by, yet still, you remained uneasy. You’d taken to inching around the bathroom floor on your hands and knees, on the prowl for relief, finding it only briefly in a facing down fetal position as your rock-hard uterus continued its assault on your fibers.

Shuri had stepped out of the bathroom for a brief moment, upon your request for ice, though she felt disinclined to follow your orders. You knew she listened still, undoubtedly honing in with those heightened abilities of hers. Your frail figure crawled to the shower, turning it on with plans of climbing in. Your hope was that the steamy water would offer some relief, you were desperate for it, and you would accept it in any capacity.

Scorching droplets pelted your quivering frame as you pulled your knees to your chest and allowed salty tears to mix with water. Though warm, the pressure of the shower still made you tremble, but the act seemed to work somehow. Shuri returned soon after, a frown setting her face as she took in the scene of you practically drowning yourself before her. She climbed in behind you, fully clothed, and held you. Shuri allowed you to break completely in her embrace, encouraging your unravel.

She swayed you from side to side, permitting her heart to crack a little at the sound of your meek whimpers as you buried your face into her soaked neck.

“Umzimba wam akandithandi?” (why does my body hate me?)

“Oh, my lovely girl…” She sniffled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, not knowing if her lips brushed water or tear droplets, though their mingling made them one and the same now.

“I do everything right, Shuri. Why am I never enough? Why is my heart not enough? I keep hoping that it can be, I hope that it will be, but it never is.” Your words emerged shattered, and you chewed on the shards they left behind in your mouth, allowing your pain to find a new focal point as your throat blazed.

This made you ponder your relationship with hope once more: Was she not an entity capable of breeding only eternal misery? Hadn't all your rendezvous with her produced outcomes such as these? And you accepted then, that she had never been a friend at all, and your dependency on her stemmed only from your own naïveté.

Shuri's chin was hooked over your shoulder as she continued to rock you, and she wept for you, wept for your loss. “Listen to me. You are enough. You are everything. You are perfection, and you are not to be faulted for this, your heart is not to be faulted.”

“Shuri.”

She shook her head in defiance, hellbent on hammering her belief into your mind. “You haven't done anything wrong. You are perfect. My perfect girl, and I need you to know this is not on you.”

Her lips met your wet hair, swaying never faltering under the rain of warm water. Shuri held you like that for the rest of the night, the two of you allowing yourselves to feel every pang of pain derived from the ordeal, and she continued her whispers of reassurance until you went limp in her arms from all the tears, and all the bloodshed.

•••

6 months later

“Come here baby, come here Herbo baby!” You patted your thigh, beckoning your cat to you, but the small feline only stared blankly before sprinting out of the bedroom. A stuck-up little thing, but you loved him dearly.

“Hello in there! This is your mama! Good morning baby! Your older brother is being mean today. But that's okay baby, that's okay!” You cooed into your stomach. There was no change in its appearance, though you were beginning to feel some slight hormonal shifts.

Shuri exited your shared bathroom with a towel around her neck, damp curls glued to her forehead, wearing only a sports bra and basketball shorts. “Four weeks is a little too early to start calling it a baby, no?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes at her grumble, returning all your focus to your tummy. “And this is your other mama, baby! She's very grumpy right now, she has been for the past few weeks, no one knows why. But that's okay! Because she loves you as I love you!”

Your wife sat on the bed, causing you to bounce at the dip in the mattress and she began to study you as you whispered sweet nothings to the life brewing inside of your body. Speaking to your baby made its way onto your list of favorite activities since becoming pregnant again, and you did it most mornings, or whenever you found yourself with free time on your hands, much to Shuri's chagrin.

Whenever she was present for it, you'd always wind up with her curious eyes on you, though the usual splash of amusement you were accustomed to did not sway in her glare. It made you uncomfortable, her calculated stare, but you never pressed the issue, and she never offered up reasoning.

“We're so excited to finally meet you someday soon, aren't we Shuri?”

Your wife hummed with a flickering smile as she massaged your ankle. “Your excitement brings me joy, bambo’lwami. Seeing you this happy makes me happy.”

The smirk you offered her when your eyes met was hardly an unfamiliar one, and her brow jumped in understanding. “You look good.”

“I feel comfortable.” She retorted, scooting up to sit near you on the bed so your shoulders would touch, and you breathed her in.

“I bet my mouth could offer you more. Comfort, I mean.”

You hadn't turned to look at her, but you knew she blushed beside you. Shuri's hot hand groped your bare thigh as you sat next to her, thumb brushing along the deep dimples decorating the expanse of it, and she had to fight a lip bite at the sound of your desperate little moan.

“We better not do anything that could potentially harm it,” That same palm found your stomach, and you jumped. “Or at the very least spike your heart rate.”

She pecked your head, then stood, marching straight out of your room as Herbo did moments ago before you could stutter up a measly, “O-Okay...”

•••

“Will you be wearing a dress tonight, or a suit, mtuwam?” You questioned, peering at Shuri through your vanity mirror. She remained silent from where she perched herself on your bed, watching you intently, as was her favorite pastime.

“Let's just see if we make it out the door first, hmm?”

At this, you turned, puzzled as to what she could possibly mean. “Shuri, the banquet starts in two hours. You need to start getting ready, you know it takes you forever.”

She chuckled, and the authentic rustle of it made you hum. You hadn't heard her laugh, not genuinely, in weeks, hadn't felt the rush it sent through you, so you chased after it now, choosing to tangle in the lastings of it that lingered.

“We don't have to go, you know. If you aren't up for it. We could just stay home, I’m sure Herbo would love that.” She purred at the cat curled in her lap, scratching his ear affectionately, and soon their sounds fell in sync. You twitched a little watching her with him. Being jealous of a cat was inherently illogical, but it was out of your hands. Because it’d been a while since Shuri allowed herself to get lost in you like the way she got lost in Herbo now, and there laid hurt in that.

You sighed, peeling your eyes from them; you decided to focus your energy on wrestling away your current state of drowsiness. It snuck up on you, seemingly with plans to control your night. “Of course, we're going, Shuri. This banquet is an important part of my job, you know this. Or do the events surrounding my career not matter? Is that what you're telling me?”

“I think we both know that isn't remotely similar to anything I've ever said to you.” She rolled her eyes, but not before releasing the cat and trekking to your closet, pulling out your favorite suit of hers. She caught your smirk in the mirror, though she said nothing, opting for a shake of her head instead.

Your night was already off to a dizzying start: all the lights, all the sounds, the people, and the forced conversation. It overwhelmed you, and your unrest became Shuri's fixation, no doubt swallowing an ‘I told you so’ for your journey home.

Fatigue took you, and barely an hour had passed. You craved some familiarity, at the very least, so you understandably jumped when you spotted Nakia floating gracefully across the room in a bold emerald number.

“Oh, sisi, hey–” She stepped back examining your face, your posture, cupping your cheeks delicately. “Are you alright?”

You nodded in her hold, grabbing her hands softly before removing them from your face. “Yes, yes. Just a little tired, this night is going to be long.”

She didn't look convinced, however, and worried eyes panned to a rather agitated-looking Shuri for some insight. Though she had none to offer, at least none in the form of words. You watched as the two women before you now concluded something together, something you were left in the dark about.

It frustrated you, seeing them so in sync over secrets that undoubtedly involved you, and you excused yourself to the restroom to catch your breath.

Standing in front of the mirror now only confirmed your suspicions and pushed understanding through you. You were made aware as to why you’d been receiving odd stares, and you understood Shuri's irritation when your appearance had been questioned. Nakia’s concern was a thing comprehended, because you looked exactly how you felt: weary, disoriented, and on the verge of collapse.

You needed to leave. Immediately.

“And the pregnancy is doing this to her? This early on?” A voice you knew: Nakia.

And the one that followed was your wife's beautiful refrain, although it’d been difficult to recognize under thick layers of exhaustion and hurt. “Yes. She's been trying to hide it, the toll. And I selfishly wish she was successful in doing so, because then I wouldn't be subjected to seeing her fall apart like this.”

You stepped back into the restroom, letting the door remain cracked as you honed in on their conversation. Surely it wasn't wrong to eavesdrop, not when the topic of discussion was you.

“And there's nothing you can do? What about the herb?”

Shuri sighed, and it was the one that alerted you she'd already thought of this idea. “It wouldn't work, and she would refuse. I can't…fix her, not when I do not believe she's broken. But I can't help her either because this is what she wants.”

She was correct in that assumption.

“I don't want her to have this baby, Nakia. She's so happy, she's excited about becoming a mother. But I'm fearful that this dream of hers will only ever remain that, a dream. It's selfish but I can't lose her, not like this.”

You heard shuffling, a sniffle, and what you could only envision to be a hug. A palm slapped itself over your mouth as you drank your tears at your wife's revelation.

It was then that you stepped out, rickety heart pumping blood at its most accelerated pace, and Shuri automatically answered your body's call. She pulled away from Nakia, draping your coat over your shoulders whilst attempting to steady you.

“Lovely girl, what is–”

“Take me home. Please.”

When your beloved wife tucked you into bed later in the night, she clutched you tight; Shuri swaddled your entire body in her strong embrace and breathed out each molecule of her fear ruggedly.

You peered up at her: cocoa eyes were shut, lips hung downward, and she hummed quietly with your head against her chest.

The question simmering in your stomach began its climb, and despite your efforts to gulp it back down, your body belched it out anyway, and you prepared for her rehearsed reply. “Do you want this baby, Shuri?”

“I want what you want, lovely girl.”

•••

“Kumkanikazi, ndicela ixhesha lakho?” (my queen, may i please have a moment of your time?)

Your strides into the throne room were hesitant ones, and Ramonda tilted her head in curiosity, questioning your reluctance to approach her.

“I have to assume this conversation will not be personal, seeing as you’ve chosen to address me so formally.”

You let a soft chuckle slip, reminiscing on the many times the woman in front of you had to scold you for addressing her by her title. She’d been adamant that the girl whom her daughter loved addressed her as she did, “My apologies, mama. My mind is not stable these days.”

She shrugged, “Comes with the territory.” Now it was your turn to let curiosity teem.

You narrowed your eyes at her, puzzled and she laughed. “You're pregnant.”

“How d–”

“You forget child, I am a mother, I’ve endured what you are enduring now, and I lived to tell the tale. The signs are not lost on me.” Her smile covered her entire face, lighting her eyes and showcasing the maturity in her features.

You laughed. Eerie were her methods of knowing the unknown, but her foresight only served as a buffer to make this conversation smoother. You’d worked up the courage to tell her, seeing as you were holding off on an official announcement given your last experience with early pregnancy, but now, the ancestors seemed to have done the work for you, and for that, you thanked them.

“Is this what you've come to talk about?” She questioned, and you nodded.

The Queen had become a voice of reason for you over the stint of your relationship with Shuri. She offered you guidance, and peace of mind when the task of aiding yourself became too immense. “Yes. I wanted your advice.”

She gestured for you to continue.

“Well you've guessed, I am pregnant. And it's something I've wanted all my life. My own children, my own family,” She smiled, squeezing your hand as she stood up from the throne, placing herself directly in front of you. “But my condition… it's making things rather difficult for me, for Shuri.”

“For Shuri?” She quizzed, startled.

“She's… apprehensive about it, worried, doesn't want to risk my health. I love her for worrying. I just, I want this so badly, mama. And while I do feel drained most days, I can’t let go of the feeling that I am meant to carry this life, t-that I am meant to be someone’s mother.” Her loving hands removed themselves from your own, cradling your face instead as she allowed you to cry into her palms.

“Oh… my child. Shuri doesn't want you to have the baby?”

You shook your head, still having a hard time accepting her conversation with Nakia from the other night. “No. She doesn't want me to risk my life giving birth.”

“She loves you, you know? After we lost her brother, her light dimmed. It was there still, but not as bright, not as blazing. But you… when she spoke about you, when she returned from visiting you, it was as if that light of hers exploded. She was the Sun. My Shuri. You brought her grieving heart back to life. Shuri loves you. And it is because she loves you that she behaves this way.”

“I love her too, I just, I think I can–” She cut you off.

“But. Her love for you should not interfere with you making your own choices, especially the choices involving your own body. The body that you take care of, that you fought like hell to have.”

You were spluttering now, sobbing hard as she held still to your wet face. “I–”

“Wanting a baby is not an unnatural thing. Being a mother is hard, but loving your children is easy.” She looked at you, deep and daunting. “Do you want this child you carry?”

“More than anything.”

Then she dried your tears, swatting away what she could. “Then you have your answer to the question you hadn't yet asked. The one you were hesitant to speak out loud. I know my daughter, I love my daughter, and I know this is something she wants as well. She loves you. She wants a family with you.”

•••

“Are you even still attracted to me, Shuri?” The two of you had cleared the lab, or rather, everyone scattered the moment you'd arrived seething and in tears. But your wife refused to move, purposefully averting your gaze.

She scoffed, “Is that a serious question?”

Your steps forward didn't seem to faze her, but when you moved behind her desk and tilted her chin to face you, she stiffened. “You don't touch me anymore. Look at me Shuri. Am I attractive to you? Are you attracted to me as I am now, Shuri? I–”

“I'm attracted to every version of you.” Brown eyes bored into your deteriorating exterior, and you gasped.

You let a hum slip, “And do you want this baby?”

Shuri sighed, evidently exhausted of the question she was being made to answer again and again, growing weary of her own repetition. “I want you happy, and if having this baby will make you happy, then yes. I want you to have everything you desire my love, I–”

“Shuri.”

Her rambling continued amidst your protest, “You deserve to…”

“Shuri.”

“...and I only care about…”

“Shuri enough! You avoid this question every time, diverting your words, shifting the topic to how much you love me, but no more lies! Answer the damn question, and do so truthfully…”

“Uyamfuna lomtana?” (do you want this baby)

A beat passed without words, or sound, and you studied Shuri's stern face trying to decipher her expressions. She gave nothing away, and then, a word. A singular word that clawed at your lungs, doing away with your practiced form of breathing. “No.”

“What?” You hadn't expected her to admit it. Though you’d requested the truth, residing within her lie comforted, because Shuri’s untruths seemed to hurt less than her honesty.

“No.” Her eyes were on you, and they were remorseful.

You swallowed, then blinked at her, trying desperately to string coherent words together. “You don't want our child?”

“Not if it means I lose you.”

You stepped forward, “You don't know that you will lose me Shuri, I–”

Shuri fiddled with the pens on her desk, dropping your gaze again, “You speak of my lies, but not of your own? I spoke with Dr. Chara. She told me she doesn't believe your heart can withstand childbirth.” This disclosure silenced you, because it was one you’d known and made peace with.

“You think I can't sense what you're going through? You choose to suffer in silence, but despite this, your body still calls out to me, she alerts me of your pain every waking day.”

You hadn't realized you were in tears again, but there they were, trickling from your sockets and staining your face. But the emotion driving them was not one anticipated: anger. Anger at your wife, anger at yourself, and the utmost fury at your heart. “Let's not forget it was you who encouraged me to–”

She stood, “Yes and I regret it! There isn't a day that goes by where I do not wish to take it all back. We were fine before, we were happy.” Shuri's voice blared, never had she raised her voice at you, and you could tell it wasn't a planned reaction.

“Are you not happy now? Shuri, are you unhappy with us?” Your voice cracked on its way out your throat, cracking Shuri’s heart in retaliation.

“Seeing you in pain makes me unhappy. Seeing you suffer makes me want to die. I am unhappy with what this… pregnancy is doing to you.”

“Shuri…”

She moved closer to hold you, to stable you as she often did, and Bast, you let her. You let her kiss your soaked face, you let your tears mingle, because in spite of it all, you’d missed her, and the heat of her touch.

•••

Returning to the maternity ward after years of absence came with waves of emotions for the Princess. She'd fallen in love beneath these very fluorescent lights, and the images of her lips on yours for the first time fluttered her heart as she followed the pattering of yours.

Shuri planted her feet perfectly in the fourth tile back from the window, and she stuffed her fists into the pockets of her slacks, patiently awaiting the press of your shoulder against hers, and like clockwork, it came without a beat of hesitation. She'd figured out later on why you did it, why you stood so close to her that first day. Her warmth called to you, pulled on your muscles like a magnet, and you allowed your body to be attracted to hers without resistance.

“You’d choose my life over the one growing inside me, Princess?” Your eyes hadn't shifted from the squirming newborns, and Shuri hadn't expected them to. She marveled at you still, admiring the striking beauty etched into your dark skin. Breathing became a thing of the past the longer the Princess stared; Shuri wanted nothing more than for the vision of you to render her unconscious, you were immersive in that way.

“Without question.” Not the answer you wished for, Shuri knew this, but it was the only answer you’d get. The lying, the holding back, she grew tired of it all, and she needed to cement the notion that you were all she cared about into your bones.

You nodded at this, and Shuri found herself leaning into each bob of your head. She was gone off your existence alone, pitiful really, but the Princess had no issue being pathetic for you. “You choose me.”

“I will forever choose you.”

She giggled a little at you craning your neck to see the babbling babies, and she grinned when you grinned. “I choose me too, Princess. And choosing me means I choose this pregnancy. I choose to have my baby.”

Shuri didn't speak when you directed your words to your stomach, she only watched, and she listened. “Do you hear that, baby? I choose you. But I need to know if you'll forgive me, because I might only be able to give you life, little one.”

The pressure of touching shoulders increased, per Shuri’s doing. She wanted to grab you, kiss you, scream at you to choose a different choice, but she couldn't. Shuri understood this was not up to her, and it was then she began to accept the crippling reality that her life might be longer than yours, your breathing may cease before her own. These weren't thoughts she wished to speak out loud, however, so she opted to dive deeper into your feel as she stood silently beside you.

“Will you forgive me, Princess?” Shuri did not enjoy the meekness of your tone, she did not enjoy hearing your confidence waiver.

She turned to you then, and you mimicked her. Shuri captured your lips in hers, pouring her all into the kiss, all whilst trying to drink in every drop of you as though it were her last sip. She felt you quiver at the feel of her fingertips brushing your stomach, but she only used it as an opportunity to tug you closer. The passion beaming off the both of you expanded, blooming in pressure and power, Shuri was certain every glass surface surrounding you prepared for their inevitable shattering.

The kiss numbed her mind, and when she pulled away, she stuttered, struggling horribly to speak. “I-I, I choose you. And I choose your choices, bambo'lwami.”

•••

Shuri despised hospital rooms; loving you brought about this disdain. She hated the sight of you hooked up to beeping machines and tangled tubes and wires. Something she hated even more: having zero control or say in the care you received.

The Princess was gifted in many areas, but her preferred field of work was being your live-in, round-the-clock, go-to, nurse, doctor, and personal hand holder. These were her most cherished skills, caring for you was Shuri’s most cherished attribute. So, evidently, when she'd been barred from having any medical say-so in your labor preparation (per your request), the Princess wanted to throw a fit.

“You're oddly calm, mtuwam.” She let your strained voice tug her from inside her whirring mind, matching your weak smile.

She sighed, interlocking your fingers with a low laugh, allowing her stomach to bubble at the sight of gorgeous rings wrapped around perfect fingers. “I'm calm because you are. Though I would like to know what's taking that doctor so long. You were scheduled for surg–”

“Shuri.”

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. My role here is to be a doting wife, not a domineering doctor, I know.” She bit her lip, utterly enamored by the sight of you, even now, especially now. Shuri admired your resilience through all of this, she wanted to be exactly like you someday.

She studied the way your eyes remained bright, elated, and blown, as you smirked at her. “Domineering doctor. I can unabashedly admit I do not hate the sound of that. You want to dominate me, Dr. Udaku?”

“I'm so in love with you.” Again, your resilience was a thing to be admired. Only you would find time to make jokes such as those at a time like this.

“You're rubbing off on me Princess. Oh! That's another one! You want to rub off on me, Princess?”

Shuri understood fully what her wife was doing; this was merely a tactic to relax Shuri's mind, get it off of the sight of her in that bleak hospital gown, shift her thoughts from the looming cloud of uncertainty hovering overhead. And if she hadn't known better, it might have worked.

Just as she began to speak, the door opened, and in walked the extremely tardy doctor, Shuri thought, but she pulled her lips into a hard line, allowing them to prep you for your scheduled cesarean.

“So,” She pressed her hands together, offering up a smile, one that made Shuri snarl, and she braced herself for your scolding. “Do we have any questions before you're wheeled back to the OR?”

Shuri looked at her wife, whose face displayed a twinge of sadness, and it was immediate — her comprehension of your impending question. Those were not words the Princess intended to have graze her ears, so Shuri chose to zone out.

It was only the beeping of machines and devices that pulled her back to reality. There were shouts, orders being given, and hospital personnel floating in and out of the room. Instinctively, she flew to your bedside, reaching for your hand.

“Someone please tell me what the fuck is going on! Right now!” And if Shuri weren't so caught up in her yelling, she would have noticed your wince at the boom of her voice. Your fear she picked up on, your spiking heartbeat too, and she placed her palm on your jumping chest, staring deeply into wild eyes that called to her in their time of need.

“Shuri?! Shuri…”

She kissed your face, dividing immediately into your coached breathing. “I know, lovely girl, I know. Just breathe with me okay? Breathe.”

All efforts were seemingly useless, and Shuri was on the verge of collapse.

“Baby's heart rate is dropping. Mom’s heart rate and blood pressure are increasing rapidly.” There was a shout of, “Emergency C-Section,” then you were being rolled out of the room and away from her, sporting panicked eyes.

“We're sorry, Princess, but you are not permitted to enter the operating room. But you are welcome to wait here.”

Words Shuri refused to listen to, warnings that would go unheeded. She’d promised to be by your side, yet here she was, on the other side of locked doors, breaking that promise.

Hadn't she let you down enough? Shuri hadn't supported your desire to have this baby, not entirely, she reminisced on the half truths she spun as she sat, knees to her chest on the floor as she whimpered. She only wished to be with you when you needed her most.

If she wanted, she could break the doors down, demand to see you, demand to aid you, but she knew you wouldn't support this, and it was not her plan to disappoint you anymore than she already had. So she allowed the familiar thrum of the heart she loved so wholly to center her; if she couldn't be near you, your abnormal rhythm would suffice.

“Come, child. Let me hold you.” Ramonda pulled her daughter into her lap, cradling her similarly to when Shuri was just a baby with a kiss to her head as they both sat on the freezing floor, and Shuri released a wet exhale at the feel of Nakia’s comforting palm smoothing over her back.

•••

“It's been over seventy-seven minutes, why haven't they finished?” Shuri had indeed counted the minutes in her mind as she waited, it became her only sense of tranquility.

Her mother sighed beside her, but the action only served as an irritant, because it was indicative of the woman's lack of an adequate response. “Shuri, please hold to your patience right now. It's what she would want. Your wife is a fighter.”

She rolled her eyes at this, an act the River Tribe native perched across from her noticed and admonished, but Shuri couldn't bring herself to care. All her care laid with you.

“Your mother is right, you know, patience is a virtue. And your wife knows this, she respects this,” She offered up a small smirk. “Mostly.”

“I don't care about patience, I care about my wife!” Shuri shot to her feet, needing to flail in frustration because the ticking of endless time was beginning to drown her.

“My child I do not know what outcome this–”

She shushed her mother, inching closer to the doors separating her from her wife, terror banging against her heaving chest like a drum. “I can't…”

Shuri's actions caused Nakia to glance at the Queen, and they stood, mirroring Shuri’s slow strides. “Shuri?”

She tilted her head, sticking out a finger hauntingly to quiet Nakia’s speech.

“I can't hear… I-I c-can't hear her h-heartbeat…”

Silence befell the two women, just as the bleak wave realization rode in on arrived. Previously, Shuri had tuned out every beep, every zip, every sound behind the doors that wasn't you: your weak inhales, they were faint, but they existed. And of course, the pumping inside your sternum. But now, she heard neither.

Shuri’s vision blurred. Her feet marched. Her fists were balling, and her mother screamed her name from her rear, but that ceased to matter.

The opaque glass doors to the operating room shattered dramatically, startling the doctors, and nurses, and technicians hurrying around the room, but Shuri didn't care. Her eyes found your body on the bed, and she swallowed a whimper. No one held her back; they couldn't, but ultimately they didn't have to because Shuri froze.

You looked as though you were sleeping, you were sleeping. That's what she told herself. Because accepting anything else was not an option for the Princess.

But Shuri had laid awake watching you sleep on too many occasions to allow herself the luxury of believing it was only slumber that took you now. She'd memorized the pattern of your breathing as you dreamt, a pattern that existed no longer.

You remained still; devoid of color, devoid of life. Your heart was not alive, your chest did not rise, and without a rise, there would be no fall. Except, there was a fall — Shuri's fall. She was unaware she’d been tumbling until her knees hit the floor, and when two pairs of arms engulfed her, she screeched.

•••

A broken soul made no noise. Shuri made no noise, as she sat, unmoving in her wife's empty hospital room. Numbness offered her a hand and she reached desperately for it in the darkness, allowing a blanket of apathy to swaddle her.

It was better this way, she thought, better to not feel. If the Princess allowed herself to succumb to feelings, the entire world would sooner know her agony. This was her best option.

She befriended Silence as she sat, the spirit offered little comfort, but the absence of sound was a necessity.

It lasted only so long though, and Shuri sighed, preparing for the disturbance before it even reached the door. “Shuri.”

“Ndiyeke.” (leave me alone)

Nakia disregarded this, stepping into the room fully, but never leaving the doorway, and the Princess winced at the sound of soft coos. “Shuri there's someone who–”

“Leave. And take that thing with you as well.” She didn't have to look up to know her words sliced deep; She intended to make Nakia feel just a sliver of the hurt she'd been avoiding.

“Surely you don't mean that. Your dau–”

“Yisuse kum lento.” (get it away from me)

There were no more words to be had between the pair, Shuri’s knife slashed through bone, burying itself deep within Nakia’s being, and she nodded, leaving the Princess to float on her high of comforting numbness.

•••

Most nights, the sound of a crying infant rang throughout the palace, but never had Shuri peeled herself from your side of the bed to check on the baby. The Princess lay on her side, curled in a ball as she inhaled the smell of your pillowcase. There was little intrigue on her end when it came to the child, she found there was nothing they held in common.

It hadn't known you, it may have come from you, but it did not know you, not in the way she did. You were hers. It hadn't loved you as she did. This loss was hers alone, and the Princess found the child’s screams to be unwarranted.

Perhaps there was room to bond over the sleeplessness they both shared, because Shuri too laid awake most nights. Rarely did the Princess leave her bed, rarely did she interact with others, and there’d been no recollection on when she'd last seen the Sun. She’d taken to feeling though, and just as she'd predicted, those around her suffered. The child suffered.

She sighed when wails morphed into coos, letting her eyes flicker shut so she could shed a silent tear.

Tonight was not like most nights. There was movement in the young royal’s bed chambers, toes plunged into carpet, and lean legs propelled Shuri forward. They followed the babbling, stopping short as she approached the nursery the two of you decorated mere months ago. Her feet did not cross the threshold though, and she stood there, fingers fiddling and pulling on the hem of your favorite t-shirt.

“Precious, precious girl. You have your mama's eyes, yes you do!” Shuri watched as Nakia poked the baby's tummy and she shuddered at the sight of it smiling.

She let her head hit the frame as she stood there: silent, unmoving, watching. “How do you do it?”

“Shuri!” Nakia jumped, clearly unprepared to hear her voice. The Princess startled even herself with her words; it’d been days since she’d last spoken, to herself or to anyone. Her throat remained raw from her silent sobbing, and she was reminded immediately as the last word left her lips.

She settled onto the floor, criss-crossing her legs, allowing your shirt to cover her knees. “How did you find it in you to go on after the loss of my brother?”

Nakia placed the baby back into its crib, then she stooped down, sitting directly across from the forlorn Princess. She wanted to offer comfort, but she was hesitant to reach out and touch. “Oh… Shuri.”

“I wanted to burn the world in his name, and I nearly did. But now I feel as though it is I who the world has set ablaze. Losing her, i-it…” Tears evaded Shuri now, but she felt no such luck when it came to hurt.

She shut her eyes, allowing her cells to sizzle under the breeze that was Nakia’s words. “When I lost your brother, I did what you are doing. I recoiled, I broke. I was prepared for his death, but no amount of preparation could ever do away with the anguish that comes along with losing the one you love. But I also found the strength to put myself back together again, for my son.”

“I don't think that's something I can do. I want to remain broken, I want to feel the pain of her loss forever. It's only fair.” Shuri’s knees were pressed to her chest now, and she pulled away from the helping hand being offered to her.

“You don't mean that, Shuri. Your dau–”

“I do!”

A sad smile formed on Nakia’s lips, one Shuri read as pity. There had been a time where Shuri wore her own version of pity proudly, where she let herself revel in how pathetically entranced with you she was. She almost smiled at the thought of it, but no longer did that feeling exist.

“Neglecting your daughter will not help fill the hole felt from her loss, Princess. Forcing yourself to hurt will never ease your mind.”

“You think I have to force myself to hurt? You don't think this pain comes naturally to me?”

Nakia shook her head, “That is not what I meant, Shuri, you know that.”

Soft babbling tugged on Shuri's attention, and she craned her neck to the handcrafted crib housing the little one. “I'm afraid I will resent the child forever if I were to hold it, and the thought of disappointing my love in this way is terrifying.”

“Your daughter wants to know her mama, Shuri, she grows curious about the other presence here each day.”

Curiosity brimming in a body that tiny, this piqued Shuri’s interest. She knew curiosity well, curiosity led her to you. “How do I know I will be an adequate mother? How do I know I can raise a child, give it– her the proper guidance?”

“Your wife made a choice. One that she felt was best for her and her baby. You too, have choices. You can choose to respect her choice, you can also choose to love your daughter. She's already chosen you.” This produced a sad smile from the Princess, as she reminisced on some of the first words you’d said to her.

“But that's the easy part,” Nakia continued, squeezing Shuri's knee playfully. “Because she is easy to love. Come.”

The two women rose, and Shuri exhaled deeply as she stepped over the threshold. Her indignation, she left on the other side of the door, inching slowly toward the baby, and immediately, there was a smile from the child.

“Oh, that's her biggest one yet.”

Shuri huffed a laugh. Emotions swirled inside her as she gaped at this beauty harboring your starry eyes. Eyes she thought she'd lost forever, but here they were, peering back at her, calling out to her as yours did. The baby wore your face as though it were her own, and it was then that Shuri broke.

Slowly, she reached for the baby girl, her baby girl, cradling her gently, supporting her head lovingly. Shuri let a sob slip as she held her daughter, then a chuckle because you’d been right. Choosing to love this small child coated in your complexion came with no challenge, just as loving you came with no challenge. This hadn't been the life she pictured for herself, but Shuri knew the only constant life carried with it was change.

#shuri x reader #shuri x black!fem reader #shuri x plus size!reader #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x f!reader #shuri x black!reader #shuri angst #shuri udaku #reblog #I tried to thug it out but I failed 😭

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Sorry For Breaking Your Hearts

Riri Williams x OC (Sade Davis)

Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days since anyone had heard from Riri.

Warnings: Cussing, implied smut, explicit language, TW: possible domestic violence

Word Count: 2.5k+

A/N: A lot of angst. Sorry. I swear it'll get better. Just trust the vision <3

My foot grazed the last step before I finally flattened it onto my floor. I huffed, chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. The six flights drained me. Damn broken elevators I thought to myself, sliding my key into the front door lock and turning it until the knob released.

 I swung the door open and entered my home, failing to secure the lock behind me.

 In a few strides, I was at the door to Honey and I’s shared bedroom and let myself in. Honey and Iris were already occupying the space, seated atop Honey’s bed. They were surrounded by snacks and empty wrappers.

“Hey mí Corazón, “ Honey greeted me, without looking up from her laptop screen. Iris’ outstretched hand invited me in and she smiled her big, toothy grin. “Come join us? Thriller movie marathon.”

I didn’t hesitate to shake my head no. “Nah, I don’t want to come home from a stressful day of classes to watch stressful movies.”

I release my backpack from my shoulders with a heavy thud and stand up straight for the first time all day. “Besides, I have to get ready for a date, and Riri’s gonna kill me if I keep showing up late for our dates.”

Honey scoffs, “You show up late on purpose and we all know why. We could hear Riri ‘killing you’ across oceans.”

They dropped air quotes when they said ‘killing you’ and my hand itched for the pillow sitting on my bed, begging me to be thrown at Honey, but I refrained.

“Where is Riri taking you?” Iris asks, eyes on me as I walk to my closet in search of the perfect fit for my perfect girl.

“I am taking her to Nataliana’s just off campus”

I’ve got Honey’s full attention now. “Nataliana’s? The place where a glass of water is $75? I’m your best friend! You’ve never taken me there.”

An eye roll escapes from me before I can stop it. “The water is free, Hon”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that, would I?” they retaliated to me. 

The pillow that was calling Honey’s name moments earlier finally flies across the room to hit them dead in the face. 

Honey closes their laptop and lifts it over their head, ready to knock me out until Iris jumps in between the two of us and says sternly: “Fucking behave you two.”

My roommate and I glare at each other but say nothing. I return to my closet, still in search of something to wear when Iris steps over to me, pulls out a red pile of fabric and shoves it into my hands. Slightly confused, I look down to examine what she chose: a long-sleeved red number with a built-in corset that lifted my breasts to the Gods. 

“Go in your girl’s favorite color. See if she can resist you in that restaurant. Have fun afterward and thank me later.”

Iris’ brought the smile back to my face. “Honey, your partner’s a genius.”

Honey’s arm goes around Iris’ shoulders with a kiss on the cheek Honey responds “I know. Now go get dressed.”

Twenty minutes later, I was ready. Iris also picked out my shoes, simple black heels, and we unanimously decided that my hair would stay styled as it was, my natural, fluffy curls just doing their thang. With a quick once over in the mirror, I excitedly text my Riri, eager to see her face when she sees me. I pictured her sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and biting down on it whilst her eyes dragged across my body with a look that could soak the panties I wanted her to pull off of me. 

My fingers flew when they typed I’m heading to the restaurant, mamas. I’ll see you there with a kissy face, but my kissy face was replaced with a frowny one when Riri didn’t respond immediately. My girl practically lived on her phone; she was quick to respond to everyone. I scroll up a bit and see that all of my texts from today had gone response-less. I try to shrug it off, thinking she must’ve had a very busy day and I’d hear all about it in a few. 

I walked to the front door, blowing the couple still occupying my room a kiss before I left. It didn’t take more than a ten-minute walk to reach Nataliana’s. But of course, I was late; five minutes late to be exact. 

“Table for one?” The hostess asked me I entered the restaurant. My eyes scanned the intimate venue, searching for my Riri, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“No, it’ll be two in my party. I’m just waiting for the other person to show up.”

“Okay, follow me,” she spoke to me again, with two menus in hand and me in tow. We stopped at a booth in the center of the restaurant, and she placed the menus on the table and turned to head back to her station. 

As soon as her back was turned to me, I pulled my phone out and called Riri. The line rang several times before sending me to voicemail. I switched my tactics to text Ri instead. Where are you, babe?

Five minutes turned to ten, and ten to twenty and thirty. Before I knew it, Riri was an hour late for our date. I’d tried calling and texting repeatedly over this hour, but when the line stopped trilling and instead sent me straight to voicemail, I stand and rush out of the nearly empty Nataliana’s. 

Riri’s dorm was nothing but six minutes away from our meeting place. Four minutes closer than mine. She should have been there forever ago. Something was wrong.

I didn’t even wait for the elevator when I reached Riri’s building, instead pulling my heels off, and with them in hand, I took the steps two at a time. Her room was on the second floor, so it wasn’t very far to go, but once I reached the level with a large blue 2 labeling it, I sprinted to my Riri’s door. 

My knocks were gentle at first and I called out a quiet “Riri, baby? You in there?” When my knocks went unanswered and my whispers ignored, I pounded upon the hardwood and raised my voice loud enough for Riri’s neighbors to stick their heads out their own doors. 

I was preparing to kick the door down when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to be eye to eye with a badge that read Campus Security. “Ma’am, we’ve gotten several reports of you causing a public disturbance. We’re giving you the chance to remove yourself from the premises before we forcibly remove you.”

My breathing is hard and rigid and yet somehow, I take a deep enough breath to get the words out. “No, no, please! My girlfriend, I-I haven’t seen her all day, I haven’t heard from her. I think something’s wrong.”

A tall figure steps out of their cracked door, stepping forward at my words. “Riri missed our last class of the day.” My eyes go wide when I meet his. His lips thin into a straight line. “That’s not normal for her. Please, do a wellness check, or something.”

The security guard sighs heavily and reaches for the large key ring on his hip. There must be a thousand keys there and he flips through every single one of them. I’m holding my breath until he finds the key he must have been looking for and don’t breathe when he slips it into the lock. I don’t breathe when he turns the key, and it clicks. I won’t breathe until I see my Riri safe and sound, maybe asleep on her bed; just exhausted. Campus security grabs ahold of the doorknob and turns it, releasing the door from its hinges as it swings open to an empty room. 

I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach, any air remaining in my lungs being sucked away. The tall figure appears next to me and places an arm around my shoulder, and before I even realize it, my legs give out. I’m on my knees frozen in front of my Riri’s room and thinking the worst. 

“-missing person report,” tall figure was speaking to the security guard and my ears perk up. Missing person. My Riri was missing. And that’s when the cry escapes from my throat.

Seconds without my Riri turn into minutes, which turn into hours, and then days. Days that have been spent at the police station, providing details and waiting on updates. Days spent talking to Riri’s mom and crying on the phone together; promising her that if I heard something, she’d be the first to know. Days spent in bed with the covers drawn and missing assignments piling upon each other. 

But yesterday was the last day my professors gave me an extension. I had to return to class today and endure the rumors Iris warned me were spreading like wildfire.

 That’s the girlfriend of the missing girl. 

I heard she murdered her and knows where the body is. 

She absolutely had something to do with it. Who doesn’t keep tabs on their significant other enough to not notice them missing for a day?

The day dragged, the rumors swirled, and the tears flowed. By the end of it all, I was drained. After my last class and a 45-minute tangent from Professor Hughes about all the possibilities of Vibranium, I made my way back to my room. I was eager to return to the safety of my covers. I inched my way up the six flights of stairs and eventually made it to my front door. I started to reach into my bag for my keys before remembering I’d left the door unlocked. I twisted the knob and the door gave, opening into our suite. I dropped my bag by the front door and slid my shoes off in the middle of the floor as my legs stretched for the door to Honey and I’s room. Honey should still be in class and Iris wasn’t on babysitting Sade duty until tomorrow, so I would be alone for a while. 

I opened our bedroom door the same way I’d done with the front door, but this time my body couldn’t move. It couldn’t react. It stood, paralyzed. Because this time, I didn’t open my door to an empty room. My Riri was there. She sat on my bed crisscrossed, eyes fixated on her hands. When she looked up, a smile grew across her face and her eyes welled. “Hi, my baby.”

I felt the sob form in my throat and when I opened my mouth to speak, it was released. I sprinted for my bed and jumped atop my girl, hugging her, holding her, afraid to let go. She held me back just as tightly and her sobs shook her body just as mine did. Riri’s hands wrapped around my cheeks and she kissed each one before kissing my nose and lips and stating over and over “I missed you.”

Seated in her lap, I kissed her back and found myself unable to form the words to ask all the questions that bombarded my thoughts. Where had she been? Who took her away from me and why couldn’t she contact me? How did she escape and was she hurt?

Her beautifully intense eyes stared into mine and she spoke before I did. 

“I have so much to tell you.”

And thus started the story of what had happened. 

We spoke for hours as Riri recounted her past few days, with me interrupting every now and again for clarity.

Tales of Wakanda and Talokan. 

“What is Talokan?”

Their respectful leaders Princess-now Queen- Shuri and the Talokan ruler Namor.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘now queen’ Shuri?”

His death wish over my girl due to her vibranium detector.

“The vibranium detector you build for Hughes’ class last semester?”

She nodded before continuing, spilling everything.

I didn’t know what to say when she finished, except for “Wow.

So, my girlfriend’s a superhero now?”

Riri smiled and looked as though she would say something cocky, but her smile dropped as quickly as it’d appeared. 

She reached for my hand and kissed each knuckle slowly before saying “Baby, there’s something else I have to tell you.”

I nod and lean forward toward her, excited to hear more of her tales. 

My Riri hesitates and looks down. When she looks back up, tears are streaming steadily down her face and my heart thumps hard at the sight. 

“Mamas,” I start with a forced laugh. “You’re scaring me. Come on, my love.”

She ignores my question and begins to repeat “Sade, I love you.” And “I love you baby girl; I swear I do.”

I pull my hand away, feeling uneasy about where this conversation is headed. 

“Hey, whatever this is, we don’t have to do it right now. Let’s celebrate you being home. We have to call your mom and tell her everything.” I stand from the bed, eyes searching the room for my phone.

“Sade, I slept with Shuri.”

The world stands still. Everything stops. I swear she just froze time with her words. 

“What?”

She winces. “Baby don’t make me say it again, please. I’m sorry; I’m so sorry. It was a mistake. I love-“

I step back towards my bed where Riri sat, not breaking eye contact because I’m so sure I heard her wrong.

“You what?”

“I slept with Shuri,” She practically whispers. 

I can feel the anger starting to grow in my stomach. It’s immediately replaced by hurt and I physically feel my heart break. “Call it what it is, Riri.”

“Sade, please-“

“Say. It.” My voice is laced with venom, burning Riri so bad that she doesn’t dare argue. 

“I had sex with Shuri. More than once; while I was in Wakanda.”

She’s avoiding my eyes altogether now.

A laugh barks out me, surprising the both of us, though I don’t show it. Riri’s eyes are a fountain, pouring more water than I knew her little body could hold. 

“Get out.”

“Sade, please baby-“

My frown forms involuntarily and I’m disgusted. “Riri. Get out.

Because while I was here missing class, worried so sick that I wasn’t eating or sleeping, and printing up MISSING flyers like you were a damn bitch,” she flinches at my words. “You were getting slutted out by a fucking princess. More than once as you put it. You had more than one opportunity to think about what you were doing, to think about ME.” My voice began to break, and I bite my lip, trying to bite back the sob that was wrecking my insides. 

Riri takes my silence as an opportunity. She walks slowly towards me and holds my hand in both of hers, kissing at my knuckles again. “I thought about it baby; about you. I swear. I stopped it the second time. I couldn’t do it. The guilt killed me and it’s killing me that I hurt you, Sade, please.”

The cackle grew from within before it left my lips and I laughed in her face. “I’m sorry Riri, excuse my mistake. You thought about me the second time you were about to cheat on me. I’m not the first thought, but a second.”

“Sade, I love you-“

I laughed again.

Her grip on my hand tightened. “I love you.”

“Was it worth it, Riri?

My question went ignored and her begging grew stronger. 

I snatched my hand from hers and grabbed her chin, holding it hard. I saw her wince and didn’t care. I pulled her face-to-face with me, our eyes level. I saw fear and sadness flash through hers; I even saw the guilt. But in mine, I knew she was seeing hurt and despair, and the one I wanted her to see the most. Hate. “Was it worth it?”

She didn’t bless me with a verbal response, only shaking her head. I released her chin with a force so strong, she stumbled backward. 

“Get out,” I repeat.

And this time, she does.

Masterlist

#shuri x oc #eventual shuriri #black panther #reblog #x ox #riri x oc #riri williams x oc #shuri x riri #shuriri #series

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Imma just pretend I ain’t read that last note 🥰

Heavy is the Head Queen Ramonda x Wakandan!reader

The nonchalant shrug makes a return. "She said I'm not a doll."

Your hands raked through her tight curls, expertly. "You're my doll."

Warnings: honestly, none. fluff. implied sad ending.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Tag List: @percsane @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot @6-noir

Requested by anonymous forever ago.

I really like your hair! Your beads are so pretty!-Ramonda

The tiny girl bounced on her toes, eyes grazing the ground. The square of paper she held out to you almost blew away in the light breeze.

She couldn't have imagined the smile her words would bring forth from you.

The sound of your beads knocking together was like music to her ears. She loved how the wind blew the smell of your cocoa butter and tea tree oil-scented plaits straight to her nostrils.

"Thank you!" your voice ringing out made her heart swell. "I did them myself."

Her bright, cocoa-colored eyes grew three sizes. "You did them yourself? All by yourself?"

"All by myself," you giggled a wonderful-sounding melody. "I could do yours too! We can match!"

She nodded hard, beadless braids recoiling with each bob of her head. "You wouldn't mind? I would love that!"

"I wouldn't mind." Your hand outstretched, grabbing hold of hers and squeezing tight. "I'm y/n."

Her smile was so gleaming, the missing two front teeth not taking away from her dazzling grin. "Ramonda."

Hi y/n. My mama said you can't play in my hair anymore. -Ramonda

"This didn't have to be a note, Ramonda."

She shrugged, taking her place between your knees and sitting back. "Notes have kind of become our thing."

"We don't have a thing, Mondie. And why did umama say that?"

The nonchalant shrug makes a return. "She said I'm not a doll."

Your hands raked through her tight curls, expertly. "You're my doll."

Ramonda blushed, settling into your touch and laying her head back to allow you better access.

"Do you want me to stop doing your hair?"

She didn't even have to think before she responded. "No. You're not playing in my hair if I ask you to do it."

Hey y/n. Mom pressed my hair, but she bumped the ends. Can you fix it? -Ramonda

Usually, Ramonda loved the sound of your laughter. The joyous sound pulled her from her darkest moments and she especially loved it when she was the one who made you laugh.

Except for right now. Right now, you were laughing at her instead of with her. "Y-you look like that-that American singer, J-James, something... Oh! James Brown!"

If looks could kill... Ramonda wouldn't go that far, but the glare she was giving you right now was something serious.

She stomped over to you, curls bouncing with each step. "Just fix it, y/n/n. And shut up."

Her defeated figure sunk into her usual spot between your legs and your hands gravitated towards her scalp like a magnet.

"I got you, Mondie."

Y/n! I am tired of walking around with this matted mess on my head. Come braid it for me. -Ramonda

"I could have been over here sooner if you hadn't sent a note via carrier pigeon."

"My brother is not a carrier pigeon," Ramonda chuckled as you walked through the door.

She sat on the floor, awaiting your arrival. Seeing you walk into her room always brought a smile to her face and this time was no different.

The two of you settled into your habitual positions and your skilled and gentle hands flew to work.

"I'm glad you called for me though, Mondie."

Ramonda's heart melted at the affection. "You are?"

"I have to talk to you about something."

Anxiety pooled through her veins. She didn't know what you would say, but she hoped, prayed, and longed that it would be what she wanted to hear.

"I'm leaving, Mondie."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear...

"Y-you're leaving?"

"Yes..."

"O-okay," she stuttered. "W-where to? Why?"

"I'm going to the States, Mondie. Cosmetology school."

The States. Seas away. An ocean away. Hundreds of thousands of miles away.

"W-why so f-far away?"

"I just want to venture out. I got accepted into a school over there, so why not go?"

Ramonda's heart could name a thousand reasons why. A million. Because Wakanda was home. Because she was here. Because she loved you.

She loved you... She'd never said it... She hadn't even been so sure of it herself... Until today.

A young Ramonda wanted you to stay. She knew you would if she confessed. Then you could stay in Wakanda. You could stay there, with her. You two could build together; be together...

She didn't though. She didn't say any of that. Instead, she told you what she knew you wanted to hear.

"That's awesome, y/n/n. You're going to do so amazingly over there."

I think I'm ready for a change, y/n. I tried to do it myself because you are away, but my parts aren't straight and everything is sticking up all around my head. Will you start my locs? -Ramonda

"Our thing has upgraded from notes to letters?" You stepped into Ramonda's home, arms wide open. She was beyond happy to sink into your touch.

"Well, how am I supposed to use a carrier pigeon when you're still in America?"

Ramonda had missed you dearly. Days were too long to go without you, but months? Years?

"You really want me to loc your hair, Mondie? That's a big commitment."

Nothing had changed between two old friends and it was evident when Ramonda took place between your legs.

"It's a commitment I'm ready to make with you."

Hello y/n, my bestest friend. It's been a while. I... I'm betrothed to T'Chaka. I need a wedding 'do from the best and my maid of honor by my side. -Ramonda

"You're getting married?"

"How is that your first hello after several years?"

Ramonda's joy upon seeing you hadn't faded. Just as every time before, her heart swelled at your presence.

Her breath caught in her chest when you stepped closer, grabbing her hands and pulling her face-to-face.

It was all Ramonda needed to know her feelings hadn't diminished.

"You're getting married, Mondie?" You asked voice barely a whisper.

"I'm getting married, y/n/n/."

T'Chaka was a gentleman, he was kind, and he was infatuated with her. He was everything her family wanted for Ramonda and more.

She loved him, but she wasn't in love with him.

"Mondie... You're gonna be queen?"

"I-I'm gonna be Queen..."

I am pregnant, y/n! And it's a boy! Thank Bast. I can keep his hair cut short and it'll be so easy to style. Come! I want you by my side when he enters the world. -Ramonda

The small boy was barely the size of your forearm. He rested so peacefully, so gently in your hold.

Ramonda rested, watching you with slitted lids. It was a sight she'd always dreamt of, one she would have never imagined she'd actually see.

She just wished it were true.

"What will you call him?"

Your question shook the queen. "You knew I was awake?"

"I know you, Mondie."

She hummed at the affectionate name, the one you'd adorned her with back in your childhood.

"His name is T'Challa."

"Hi little T'Challa," you cooed at the boy. "You're my baby, now."

Now it was Ramonda's melodic laughter that chimes in your ears. "You are not taking my child back to the States."

"Then I'll come home, Mondie."

Ramonda couldn't believe her ears. Tears flowed from her mocha orbs. She'd been praying for you to return home, to return to her, for years.

"Will you? Really, y/n? You'll come home?"

"I'm coming home."

They lied to me, y/n. T'Challa's hair is just as high maintenance. -Ramonda

"You don't think it's too soon, y/n?" Ramonda was anxiously leaning over your shoulder, eyes glued to her baby boy and the scissors in your hand.

"Are you going to comb, wash, braid, or twist his hair, Mondie?"

Silence washed over her. She was considering it. For whatever reason, cutting T'Challa's hair felt like cutting a string of her heart.

Ramonda tried, she really had. She tried to comb and wash the matted 'fro, but his little lungs held a lot of power, and combined with his shrill voice, she left with ringing ears.

Her attempt at braiding and twisting became a chunky, tangled mess. So she gave up.

"Cut it. But be gentle..."

Y/n, Bast has a vendetta against me. A baby girl... Is it acceptable for me to shave her hair as well? -Ramonda

"I will break your fingers if you shave any of this big, beautiful hair!"

A small Shuri squirmed in your lap, trying really hard to escape your hold on her head.

"She won't let me do it, y/n!" Ramonda was beyond frustrated with her young daughter. Shuri's hair had gone undone for far too long and her poor mother was seconds away from grabbing the clippers.

"Would you even know what to do with it if she did let you?"

"No, I wouldn't... That's why I have you, y/n/n."

"That's why you have me, Mondie."

Y/n, my old friend. Shuri no longer wants beads and bows. What do I do with her hair now? -Ramonda

"Ma! Umama is trying to make me wear these giant bows in my hair. I'm too old for that!"

You barely had time to step through the door before Shuri approached you, her mama hot on her heels.

Your existence normally brought Ramonda peace, but right now, it wasn't working. Her heart was broken; her little girl didn't want to be her little girl anymore.

"Mondie," you addressed your first favorite girl just as your second favorite girl bombarded you with a hug. "She's too old for the bows and the beads."

Ramonda stopped in her tracks. Of course, it would take your words to finally get through to her. "Sh-she is?"

"She is."

"I am, mother."

Shuri is asking for box braids, y/n. I am not even going to attempt it. -Ramonda

Ramonda was always amazed by how your fingers flew when you worked, and how the focus was etched across your face so beautifully.

"I can feel you staring at me, Mondie."

Blush rose to her cheeks. "I am just admiring your work."

"Get a room, you two," Shuri's light voice rang out from under your touch.

The deja-vu was clear to both you and Ramonda. The same hands that always worked so tenderly on her own scalp were now showing the same love to her daughter.

Ramonda wasn't lost on that. And somehow, she loved you even more for it.

Yn... I need you, my dear. My T'Challa... Please, my y/n... Make Bast bring him back... -Ramonda

The shears were heavy in your hands. Ramonda sat between your legs, head resting on your thighs and arms engulfing your calf in a tense hug.

Shuri sat in the corner, knees pulled to her chest, silent. She hadn't spoken since you'd arrived, just pulling you in for a hug and crying into your chest as you offered up some solitude.

Ramonda fell into your touch, sighing at the hand that ran through her frizzy locs.

"Are you sure, Mondie?"

Your old friend, your best friend, nodded slowly. Her heartbreak was mirrored in your own. Bast knows you just wanted to hold her and take the pain away. But Bast had also just taken away everything Ramonda lived for...

Tears rolled down your face when you finally raised the blade to snip that first loc. It fell to the ground in an eerie silence.

Then the second and third loc. Before long, it was her whole head. You ran your fingers through Ramonda's short curls. They hadn't been that short since you two were children.

Your mind wandered to your first meeting. The shy girl who approached you transformed into this broken monarch.

All you could do was lift her head and place a gentle kiss on her forehead as your tears ran down her face. "I love you, Mondie."

It was finally the words she'd wanted to hear, after all these years. But now, it couldn't mend her shattered heart.

"Shuri," you called softly to the princess trying to hide behind her own shadow. "It's your turn, my love."

I think the short style is growing on me. -Forever yours, Ramonda

"The short curls suit you, Mondie."

Again, she was seated between your legs while your hands ran through her gray 'fro. This time, however, you weren't styling her hair. You were just sitting, enjoying each other's company, just taking up space together.

"It's grown out quite a bit since you cut it. Do you like it?" The queen's question threw you off guard.

"Of course I like it. I did it," the joke fell from your lips, bringing a smile to Ramonda's. "Why did you write me a note to tell me that you like your hair?"

"I've always told you, y/n/n. Notes are our thing."

"I guess they are, Mondie."

Ramonda turned to face you, eyes glistening. "You're finally admitting it?"

You brought your face closer to hers, so close that you could feel her warm breath and her intoxicating scent mixing, pulling you in further.

"I love you, Ramonda. I'm finally admitting that. Not the notes thing. We've been doing it for years, I thought you'd outgrown it decades ago.”

The Queen felt as though her heart would burst. She was finally hearing it. The words she'd prayed to hear so, so many years ago. After decades, Ramonda confessed.

"I love you, y/n."

"It's about time you said it, Mondie."

"You knew?"

Your hands ran a comforting touch down Ramonda's back. "I knew. I'm just annoyed that you would finally say it before I have to leave for the States for a few."

"I know, I know. Y/n/n, the big shot. Going back to America to teach the rookies how it's done. Leaving me behind."

Ramonda froze when your face inched closer to hers, so close your noses were touching.

"I'll never leave you behind, Mondie."

#reblog #writing reblogs #queen ramonda #ramonda x reader #black panther #black panther 2 #queen ramonda x reader

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Kit Tantahlos X OC Masterlist

Big Masterlist

Prolouge

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

#kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x oc #willow #reblog

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Temptation - Thraxus Boorman x Reader

A siren takes your form to lure Boorman into the icy depths.

A/N: *slamming fists on the table* give me boorman fics!! Is this possibly the first ever thraxus boorman fic? Quite possibly (i dont claim that i just couldnt find any so i wrote one myself) The shattered sea is such a cool concept i just started thinking about all the sick creatures that could exist

Contents: Boorman being horny and also deeply in love with you, gender neutral reader, no use of Y/N, nudity, language

It was a peaceful and cold night on the Shattered Sea. The camp site was lit with a few stray lamps flickering dimly in the darkness, turned down low to conserve what little gas they had. The even sound of breathing and the occasional snore from the sleeping adventurers floated through the night air over the low and constant hum of the ocean. It was almost as if the ice itself had a noise to it, so deep you almost forgot it was there most days, it faded into the background along with the crash of the waves and the whistling of the wind. But on a night like tonight when the thrumming of waves was Thraxus Boormans only companion it was almost comforting. Reminding him that it had been here for far longer than he had and it will still be here long after he'd gone.

Earlier in their quest, when they were trekking through the wilderness, stopping along the way in woods or fields, taking watch at night had been bearable. There had been background noise, some small creature to watch snuffling about the undergrowth or a fire to stoke and keep alight. But here on the huge expanse of ice and ocean, where no fire would stay lit for more than a half hour and no creature dared to venture onto the icy plains there was nothing to do but wait and watch. Several times he'd caught himself drifting off, the lull of the waves luring him into an uneasy sleep. Sometimes he kept himself distracted by looking up at the stars, they were beautiful out here with no trees hide their view or the lights of a kingdoms worth of houses to dull their glow. Other times he looked out across the ice and sea, imagining he could see things on the distant horizon or far below the waves, usually that freaked him out so he didn't often do that for long. Or occasionally, on nights like tonight, he would spend his time looking at you. Bundled up in as many layers as possible, only your face peeking out from the sleeping bag as you slept peacefully, or sometimes not so peacefully. When a particularly harsh wind blew through the camp and you screwed up your face and tossed and turned in search or warmth and comfort he wished he could just wrap his arms around you and give you all his warmth. And he would give it to you, he'd give you anything, everything he had if only for your comfort.

He hadn't told you that though - obviously. The rogue was used to looking out for one person in his life and that didn't extend just because he had a little crush. No, Boorman would not confess his feelings for you, he'd just give you his jacket off his back when you looked too cold, or take your hand to guide you over particularly rough terrain, barely stopping himself from just scooping you up into his arms and carrying you if you so much as slipped. He'd give you food from his plate if it seemed like yours hadn't filled you up and he'd be the first to gather you up behind him in the face of any sort of threat. But no, he certainly would not tell you about his feelings.

As he was gazing over at you with a look he would have been embarrassed to have been caught wearing he heard you call out to him.

Except you hadn't moved.

He could distinctly see you fast asleep, snoring in the adorable way he'd grown so fond of. But there it was again, your voice, clear as day, if a little hushed, calling his name. This time he whipped around, a frown etching itself on his face. Then you started to hum and he had to check once again that you were indeed fast asleep.

Over at the edge of the ice, where the waves lapped gently against the ground he could just about make out a figure mostly submerged in the water, humming softly with your voice. He toyed with the idea of waking someone up but thought better of it, if he was seeing things he'd rather not appear insane. Plus the sound of your voice floating over to him felt like it was tugging at him, pulling him towards the figure who'd stolen your voice. Picking up his cleaver and a lantern he advanced slowly over the ice. The flickering glow of the flame cast a dim light over the figure.

It was you.

Or at least it looked like you, Boorman knew that the real you was merely a few feet from him, sleeping soundly.

You- the creature laughs your laugh and reaches a hand out to beckon him

"Thraxus," the-creature-that-isn't-you hums lovingly, lifting up out of the water ever so slightly, revealing the length of your neck and the slope of your chest and collar bones that he'd been lucky enough to have studied once before when your party had travelled through warmer climates and you'd shed your layers to keep from overheating. A droplet of water rolled down from your hair, tracing a path along your skin before disappearing into the dark roll of the waves that kept the rest of you hidden from him. He could only imagine if this creature had taken your face, it must have taken the rest of your image as well. He swallowed thickly.

Not-you beckoned again

"Come here, baby"

He couldn't help but slowly crouch to the ground, he'd never been able to say no to you. It was definitely your voice, although he'd never heard you take this seductive tone, let alone call him 'baby', except for perhaps in that one dream he had.

Not-you giggled again and he admired the way your smile lit up your face.

He was on his knees now, the lantern and cleaver left forgotten besides him on the ice. His hands lay flat on the ground and if he had any of his senses currently he would feel the cold biting into his palms but all he could think of was you.

You as he inched closer and closer.

You as your hand reached up to lay gently against his temple, your fingers warm despite coming from the freezing waters.

You as your palm snaked around to the back of his neck.

You as he gazed into your eyes and you started to lead him down

down

down.

Your faces were barely above the water now, your noses almost touching. He could feel your breath against his lips and if only he could just get a little closer.

His head broke through the water line, water filling his nostrils and still he could only gaze at you.

It was only when his shoulders sank under the water that his eyes flickered to the roiling black shapes surrounding the two of you. Tails and fins and webbed hands and gnashing sharp teeth. Deep sea creatures, barely holding back from their feast and when his eyes snapped back to yours your face contorted into something monstrous. He fought against the-creature-that-definitely-isn't-you's hold but realised far too late the iron grip it had on him.

Thrashing in the water and clawing at the creatures suddenly webbed hands he could feel himself losing his balance on the ice. His lungs burned for air and he could feel himself about to slip when a pair of hands grasped the fabric of his tunic, heaving and pulling him back onto land.

He fell back, scrambling away from the waters edge, his hair and beard dripping, gasping for air, the coldness of it burning his throat and lungs. You, the real you, is swinging a sword wildly at the creature, which leaps up out of the water and hisses at you before diving back down to wherever it came from.

"Why the fuck does that thing look like me?" You practically screech, throwing your sword down with a clatter, sliding to a kneel across the ice to hurriedly but caringly take Boorman's face in your hands and check him over for injuries. The noise was beginning to rouse the others and Boorman made a sound in his throat somewhere between a cough and a groan.

"How much of that did you see?" He grumbled and when you were satisfied he was unharmed, if a little waterlogged you fluttered your eyelashes seductively and lowered your voice to mimic the creatures

"I don't sound like that, baby"

He flushes warm despite the cold and although he'd barely just recovered from a near-death experience he felt a flicker of arousal in the pit of his stomach.

You laughed breathlessly at the look on his face and sat back, clearly exhausted from being woken up in the middle of the night to battle monsters. By now the rest of your adventuring party have reached various levels of consciousness, although they can't see any immediate danger so haven't leapt to your aid.

"What's wrong?" Asks Willow, who seems the most alert.

You wave your hand in a 'don't worry' gesture

"I was just saving Boormans life. He was thinking with the wrong head is all"

Despite some puzzled looks, the general consensus seems to be that if there was any danger it's over now and they can safely return to sleep. You stand, reaching your hand out to help Boorman up and the smug look on your face tells him that you're not going to let him forget this any time soon.

"I'll take the next watch," you say quietly "You need to rest, I've tired you out, not everyone has my stamina in bed"

"Oh my god" he mutters incredulously and you snicker to yourself, settling in to take the watch.

Despite your teasing he's glad you're not asking too many questions, he's not sure if he's ready for that conversation yet. Eventually he drifts off to sleep and you find yourself smiling dopily at the tall slumbering man.

The wind has died down a bit and you're quite comfortable in your sleeping bag sat up against some supplies, you almost drift off when you hear Boormans voice call your name from the distant waves and you smile to yourself, knowing the real Thraxus Boorman is safe and sound asleep.

#thraxus boorman #thraxus boorman x reader #willow #willow series #willow 2022 #reblog

[thatsgay-ficrec]

warrior nun, sister beatrice/ava silva, T, 4.4k

Ava could kiss her now.  Ava wants to kiss her now, uncaring of the fact that they have an audience and that she just died and there’s almost certainly still a hoard of Adriel’s lunatics in an elevator on their way after them right now.  Ava could kiss her and hold onto her and swear to never let her go if Bea will just let her, but instead she tilts at the last second and buries her face in Beatrice’s collar, inhales the smell of leather and lavender. 

AO3

#warrior nun #avatrice #ao3 #archive of our own

[thatsgay-ficrec]

1950 by King Princess to Avatrice

(More specifically Bea to Ava)

#didn’t get enough agreement tbh #warrior nun #am I wrong

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Bullshit

Masterlist | Stranger things masterlist |

Requested : yes ( tumblr )

prompt 81 - “Please don’t abandon me–not like everyone else.”

Pairing : Nancy Wheeler x (she/they) reader

Type : fluff + angst

WARNINGS : swearing!

Word count : 1.2k

Remember to drink! <3

(a/n : I don’t do this often but I have an Eddie munson x reader currently out called ‘I was made for lovin’ you’ and it’s on here and wattpad, I’d appreciate it if you checked it out! <3)

—————————–

Keep reading

#reblog #fic rec #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler imagine #nancy wheeler imagines #nancy wheeler x reader #nancy wheeler fluff #nancy wheeler angst #stranger things

[thatsgay-ficrec]

1825 days

Kate Bishop x Reader

gif is not mine

Summary: Kate fell in love with you as soon as she met you. However, the vast age difference between you always let her know that nothing would ever happen. But what happens when those seven years of difference suddenly become two?

Word count: 3.774 || Pronouns: not used 

Warnings: none

A/N: Well, today was a very boring day for me so here's a short story for you guys. Enjoy!  

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Masterlist | Be notified of my stories

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

It was yet another one of the many fancy parties Kate’s mother would drag her to, claiming it was important to Bishop Security’s business that the company's legatee attended all relevant events.

That didn’t make the brunette like them any better. 

Eleanor would have to spend weeks insisting, urging her daughter to participate - and moreover, to behave appropriately for her position. Kate didn’t even know what that really meant, if she were being honest. She had no intention of finding out either. And, to be even more sincere, her mother’s speech was very little effective. 

What really made her show up at all of those boring parties had a name, and the most beautiful face - that was scattered all over her bedroom walls from pictures she took over the years. 

Kate Bishop loved martial arts, and archery, and adrenaline. But the thing she loved the most - and the one that was the most surprising of all, at least to herself - was you.  

Your mother worked very closely with Eleanor, they were both partners on some matter that Kate had absolutely no interest in. The only part of this partnership that the brunette really cared about was the fact that you’d always be at the events her mother put together. 

And, over these few years, Kate has learned a few things about you. You like blue, you always have some blue item on your clothes, even if discreetly - she always wondered if you liked her eyes as well. 

Unlike her, you really want to take over your family’s company one day, and you work really hard to do it, even though your parents are still young and don’t plan on retiring any time soon. She really admires you for that.

You love seeing animal pictures on your phone when you’re bored, and the brunette felt her heart warm every time you sent her dog pictures because you know she’s a dog person.

And, the apparently only detail of yours that bothers her: you are older than her. Seven years older, to be exact. 

If she were being honest, Kate didn’t care about that age gap one bit. She truly likes you and the way her heart skips a beat every time you’re around should overcome any age difference that two people may have. 

But she knows that the fact that she’s sixteen and you’re twenty-three was clearly an issue for you. Especially since you didn't seem to have feelings for her at all.

And the worst part is that she knows you know, because everybody knows. People talk about it, making funny comments and jokes that made Kate’s cheeks warm up so hard she’s sure she’d get a third-degree burn. You always noticed her embarrassment, deflecting the subject to take the focus off of her. That only made her like you painfully more.

“I noticed you’re copying my style.” The voice she loves the most sounds right behind her, and an ear-to-ear grin took over her lips even before she spun on her heels. “Hi!” The brunette greets excitedly, throwing her arms around your neck, and you giggle as you hug her around the waist.

“Hey, Bishop.” You say against her ear, and the sound this time so close to her made Kate’s body shiver in a way she probably shouldn’t, so she pulls away. She keeps her eyes on yours as she does, though, admiring mesmerized as you smile at her expectantly. 

The silence grows longer for a moment, and it takes the brunette another two seconds to remember you had made a comment in the first place, blinking a few times to pull herself together. Looking down at her own body, Kate lets out a short laugh. “Er-Yeah! I am, yeah. My mom finally let me wear a suit.”

“It looks good on you.” You comment wholeheartedly, admiring the set of clothing before taking your eyes back to Kate’s face, which is on fire at this point. “It looks better on you, though.” The brunette bites her tongue as soon as the comment fails to be contained by her short-circuited system, her eyes widening slightly. But you just giggle softly in response, making her forget about anything at all. 

“I have to greet the other guests, but I’ll come back to you in an instant, yeah?” You comment a moment later, glancing at a point ahead of the party, where your mother beckons you to join her. “Sure, I’ll be waiting.” The brunette answers in a nervous grumble, and you give her a brief smile before rushing to where you were supposed to be, leaving behind a rather flustered Kate Bishop.

The next few minutes are somehow worse than the previous ones before your arrival, because the brunette decided to sit at one of the empty tables at the back of the salon, waiting for you to come back with a swinging leg.

Kate didn’t know exactly how long had passed - 23 minutes and 45 seconds, but who would ever count such a thing? -, but you eventually joined her again, two glasses in your hand and a soft smile on your face. The brunette reciprocates it with a shy one, murmuring a low ‘thank you’ as you hand her the glass of soda, sitting by her side as you sip on your champagne. 

The silence grows longer as the two of you stay there in silence, watching the party getting more and more crowded. And although Kate didn’t mind just being by your side quietly, her anxious brain fought in search of something to say or do.  

“I got my driver's license this weekend.” She lets out the first thing that came to her mind, and you turn to her with an excited smile. “No way! That’s awesome!” You reply wholeheartedly, making Kate’s cheeks flush as you place your glass over the fancy tablecloth. “I remember when I got mine, I was so nervous.”

“Yeah, I was a bit nervous too.” The brunette agrees with a giggle, finding it hard to keep her eyes on you and not on her lap. You offer her a sweet smile, and Kate ignores the fast beats of her heart to smile back. 

“But don’t worry about it, it will get easier over the years.” You assure then, and the brunette only murmurs in understanding, being once again reminded of your obstructive age difference. “I'd love to get a ride with you sometime, Bishop. Maybe I can give you a few tips.” You add, playfully nudging her arm with your elbow, and the brunette widens her eyes. 

“Sure! I-I’d love that!” Kate agrees perhaps too excitedly, but the sound of your giggle fills the air between you soon after, and she doesn’t find it in herself to care, an ear-to-ear grin on her lips. “Cool! We can do it on Friday afternoon if you’re not busy.”

“I’m not, Friday afternoon would be awesome.” She lets you know, and you smile as you nod your head in confirmation. The next moment, however, a noise caught your attention, and you turn your gaze to a spot ahead at the party. 

Smiling with amusement, you nod for Kate to follow your gaze, and the girl giggles softly at seeing one of the richest men at the party apologizing for knocking wine onto the jacket of a boy Kate had only seen a few times, the former's cheeks almost as red as the drink stain.

And as she looked at the scene, the brunette watched you out of the corner of her eye. With a smile on her lips at the thought of meeting you in a few days, Kate had no way of knowing that, after this night, she would not see you again for another five years.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Today is as chaotic as it was five years ago. 

However, instead of painful and sorrowful and herwreaking, this one was exciting and hopeful and overwhelming in the best possible way. 

Kate knew the world would need a long time to adapt to this huge change - she wondered if having half the population coming back out of nowhere would be more challenging than having the same amount of people disappearing overnight. 

But the social, economic, political, and environmental problems were the last thing on the brunette’s mind, because fifteen minutes ago she got a phone call from her mother telling her that you were at your parent’s house. 

You were back. 

After losing her father, Kate thought nothing could hurt that much. But you went and proved her wrong. Seeing people vanish into thin air in the middle of her classroom was frightening, but it was nothing compared to the horror of receiving the news that you were one of those who had been turned to dust by Thano’s snap.

During those five years, the brunette had felt so alone, a kind of loneliness she didn’t even know could exist. Living her life on autopilot, every single minute wishing she could talk to you again, tell you about her day and the things she’d done, craving to hear your giggle again, the sound that was slowly fading out of her memory.

But all those bad thoughts all vanished at once the instant your father invited her into his house, being replaced by pure excitement. When she walked through the marble doorway dividing the kitchen and living room, the brunette’s brain stopped working all at once at the sight of you, sitting on the couch by your mother’s side. 

The gasp that left her mouth must have been loud, because as soon as it does, you raise your eyes to where she is, and Kate can’t help but feel her vision blurring with tears when they meet hers.

“Y/n!” The brunette lets out as she runs towards you, and you barely have time to stand up from the couch before she crashes into you, her arms around your neck. “Hey, Bishop.” You greet her in the same way you always did, and the sound of your voice in the real world, outside of her memory or the videos on her phone, makes her cry even more.

Your arms hug her tighter around the waist as her body begins to shake with sobs, and Kate doesn’t know how she feels about it all. It is so familiar and heartwarming to have you back, the same perfume, the same way you run your fingers gently on her back. But it was also new, the way your bodies fit completely differently against each other’s. 

But regardless of whether it was familiar or new, it was good, so Kate makes no mention of letting go at any time soon. Much to the brunette's satisfaction, you let her be the first to pull away. After a few minutes, she does.

“You’re back.” Kate comments with teary eyes, sniffing softly. “I am.” You confirm with a smile. “And you’re… So different from the last time I saw you.” You add as you let your eyes roam over her figure, head to toe before coming up to her eyes again, your expression too hard to decipher.

“Well, that was five years ago.” The brunette comments with a giggle and rosy cheeks, and you laugh through your nose at the banter. “I’m pretty sure it was yesterday.” You hit back with humor, but the thought makes Kate’s eyes fill with tears again, and she can’t help hugging you once more. “I missed you so much.”

“Y/n,” your mother’s voice calls you softly, and only now do the two of you remember your parents’ presence in the room, pulling away to look at the older woman, “your father and I need to go back to the company now.”

“Things are very chaotic with everyone coming back.” The man adds the explanation as he approaches you and Kate. “Sure, of course.” You answer with an understanding smile, and your family smiles back in appreciation. 

“We’ll see you for dinner though.” Your mother promises with a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, and your father nods in confirmation before turning her gaze to the brunette beside you. “I’m sure Kate here will love to keep you company in the meantime.”

“Absolutely.” She answers promptly, glancing at you for a brief moment before looking back at your parents. 

And so the four of you are exchanging goodbyes, and your parents hug you tighter than usual before walking towards the door. Kate watches them leave until they disappear through the door, and the moment she looks back at you, she sees your eyes already on her.

“What?” The brunette asks amidst a giggle, a hint of amusement in her curious tone. But you just stare at her in silence for a while, and she doesn’t press you to speak. “It’s been five years.” You answer finally, your hands in your pockets. “You look so different, it’s… weird.”

Kate’s brows furrow slightly as she looks down at her own figure, and only then do you realize what you had just said, widening your eyes. “No- Not that you look weird! It just is weird. You look nice.” You explain yourself clumsily, your cheeks burning, and the brunette slightly narrows her eyes at you.

It’s the first time Kate has ever seen you like that. You’re usually so confident and chill, you’ve never been shy or flustered, much less stuttering. At least not in her presence, certainly not with her. She wonders what has changed, and then she remembers. Five years have changed. 

“Thank you.” She chooses her answer, still intrigued by the slightly pink in your cheeks. “So,” you start, looking away as you sit on the couch, “what happened while I was gone?” You decide to change the subject, and Kate smiles, taking the seat across from yours. “Oh, so much. I’m gonna tell you everything.”

She did, indeed, tell you about everything. About her last years in high school, about all the awards she’s gotten from archery and martial arts tournaments. She tells you about her friends, about her new apartment in Manhattan, and about her favorite establishments in the city, many of them having been opened after the snap. 

“[...] There are so many places I wanna show you!” The brunette commented excitedly and, feeling her throat dry, she finally realized how much she has been talking since you asked. 

But for the first time, she doesn’t care about talking too much, because she missed you more than she was able to bear these last five years, and you look at her as if you were more than willing to hear everything she has to say, so she didn’t hold back.

“Well, you still owe me a car ride.” You say with humor, referring to the conversation you had had that night at the party, yesterday for you but so many years ago for her. The memory was still fresh on Kate’s mind, however, and she lets out a happy giggle as she agrees. 

“I’m afraid I don’t need your tips anymore, though.” The brunette hits back playfully, and you narrow your eyes at her as you murmur a “we’ll see about that” that makes her giggle. 

Then the two of you are walking side by side towards the front door and Kate casts you a brief glance, smiling at having you back. 

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

You and Kate see each other every day now. 

As she promised on the first day, she takes you to all the places she likes that she knows you’ve never been to, telling you about all the things that have changed during the time you’ve been gone. 

But the change that strikes you the most is Kate herself. 

Ever since you met her, the brunette had always been the shy girl that always got flustered whenever you were around, stuttering at her own words as she tried to say to you the simplest of sentences.

This Kate Bishop beside you was completely different from that sheepish girl in the corner. She was funny and confident, and clumsy in a surprisingly charming kind of way. She was also beautiful and - every now and then - flirtatious, often turning you into a flustered mess. 

The conflicting feelings grew inside of you, becoming more and more overwhelming every time you saw her smiling or you heard her laughing. The moment it all became very clear to you, however, was during a night out at a bar. 

Kate was telling you about this pub downtown with colorful lights and live music, and you would accept going out with her even if it was to eat hot dogs on the street, so you said yes immediately. 

The place was indeed cozy, and you didn’t mind when she dragged you towards the bar by the hand. The night was pleasant and the alcohol in your veins was about to make you do something stupid if she kept smiling at you like that. 

But not before long, a random guy approached, ignoring you completely as he flirted with Kate bluntly. He was charming and seemed like a nice guy, but the jealous feeling inside you was so strong and unexpected that you weren’t able to stop yourself from aggressively telling the man to fuck off. 

And then the guy suddenly didn't seem so nice anymore, and the discussion ended up with the two of you being requested to leave the bar. 

“I’m sorry for ruining the night.” You comment shily as you walk down the street, your voice a bit slurred from the strong liquor you had. “Oh, you didn’t. That was actually really fun to watch.” Kate replies with humor, making you smile as you look at the floor.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” You ask before you’re able to hold back, and as you look at her expectantly, the brunette turns her gaze to you with slightly wide eyes. “What? Oh, no. I’ve been busy.” 

That was a lie. In fact, a very bad one. But, fortunately for her, you were busy kicking a pebble to notice. “Although I… I had a huge crush on you.” Kate adds a few minutes later with a shy giggle, making you smile. “I’m aware.”

“I know you are.” The brunette grumbles in response, feeling her cheeks heating up as she looks away. But you let out a soft laugh at her reaction, and soon she’s smiling again. It would always be a mystery to her the effect you had on her.

The two of you fall back onto a comfortable silence, walking together around New York as you think of something else to do. But then you stop suddenly, and Kate mimics your action a second later, a furrow between her brows as she watches you with confusion. 

You don’t say anything however, and the brunette follows your gaze with her, her sight landing on a light-up billboard advertising a play with the date of the next weekend highlighted.

“Can you believe it’s been five years?” You comment slowly, your expression thoughtful, and Kate sighs, looking at you briefly before looking back at the advertiser. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel like a lot when you put it like that.”

“What do you mean?” You sound as curious as your expression and, feeling your gaze on her, Kate looks back at you again. “Like, five is such a small number, isn’t it?” She says, “I prefer counting it in days, it feels more real.”

You only look at her in silence, the furrow between your eyebrows letting you know you didn’t really understand what she meant. “Every day I would mark another day being over in my calendar, and I would think of how much time has passed since the day you were gone.” She explains, swallowing the lump in her throat to add, “1825 days.”

“That’s a lot.” You comment under your breath, and the brunette nods with a sad smile on her lips. “I know.” She agrees quietly, tears building up in the corner of her eyes. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve been missing you for five years. But it sure as hell feels like I’ve been missing you for 1825 fucking days.”

You only stare at her in silence, your eyes shining with so many emotions Kate can’t even start to count. But she wouldn’t be able to even if she tried, cause the next moment you are taking a step closer to her, making the brunette take a step back in reflex. 

“And what about your feelings?” You ask in a low voice, your eyes descending to her lips. “What?” Kate asks affectedly, her brain completely short-circuited at this point. “What happened to your feelings in these 1825 days?” You ask again as you take another step forward, and this time the brunette hits her back against the wall of the building behind her, making her gasp softly.

“They haven’t gone anywhere.” She replies finally, finding it hard to keep her eyes on yours as she can feel your breathing against her lips. “I’ve been loving you for all of these 1825 days. I think that’s what hurt the most.” Her confession makes you smile, and you take your eyes to her blue ones one last time before descending them again. 

“Well, good thing the pain is over, then.” You whisper against her lips, and any coherent thought is sent far away from Kate's mind when your mouth meets hers, eliciting a heavy sigh from her.

Your lips fit perfectly against hers, as do her hands in your hair and yours on her waist. As your tongue begs for passage, the brunette feels a funny sensation beneath her belly, and she's quick to grant it to you.

And as you deepened the kiss against that concrete wall, you had no way of knowing that 1825 days from now you and Kate would be sharing an apartment in the outskirts of New York, the brunette being one of the newest superheroes while you took care of your newborn Y/l/n-Bishop. 

And within those 1825 days, there wouldn't be a single day that Kate wasn't scared of losing you again, the same way you were terrified of losing her on some dangerous Avengers mission. But everything was fine, because you would always come back to her after a long day at work, and Kate would always come back to you after saving the world. 

And from 1825 days to 1825 days, the two of you would build your life together, unhurriedly, one day at a time.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop #hawkeye #x reader #fic rec

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Work Playlist [Request]

Yelena Belova x Reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Tags: unrequited requited love, idiots in love, fwb relationship, peter parker and kate are bros, reader is roommate with kate, Stark!Reader, no one died nat just faked her death so Hawkeye event still happened, if i forget something tell me

Warnings: Smut-ish (18+, minors dni)

Request: request was submited in spanish but with the magic of google trad (my spanish level is abysmal) I could understand it so here it is in both languages

Peter esté planeando con Kate invitar a salir a R sin saber que está con yelena ,y Kate las encuentra en una situación comprometedora en una habitación le dice a Peter que es mejor no invitarla o algo así y Yelena se entera de lo que querían hacer y se ponga celosa ✨

si es posible que R sea hija de Tony , si no queda con las historias no problema✌️

English: and the 3 is that Peter is planning with Kate to ask R out without knowing that she is with yelena, and Kate finds them in a compromising situation in a room tells Peter that it is better not to ask her or something and Yelena finds out what they wanted to do and get jealous ✨ if it is possible that R is Tony's daughter, if she doesn't stay with the stories, no problem✌️

A/n: I hope that my dear requester likes it, i had a lot of fun writing it! My requests are still open until tonight

Peter had never been good when it came to interpersonal relationships, and he was even worse with romance. So when he started to develop feelings for you, his mentor's daughter, things couldn't be worse - or they could, but he didn't know that yet.

"You have to ask her out," Kate told him like it was the easiest thing on Earth to do.

"But she's so pretty!" He retorted, his forehead against the dining table. He had met Kate some time ago now, and they became fast friends. Like, scarily fast. He turned his head on the side, his cheek now against the wood. "And so clever. And kind. And perfect."

Kate just let out a very deep sigh. He was right until the perfect part. "You're forgetting she's a bit full of herself and a brat. Actually, she's a lot like her dad now that I think about it." She narrowed her eyes. On the surface you were a lot more like your dad than like your mom - not that anyone knew what she was like anyway since she passed away before you joined the team, and no one dared to ask since the topic still seemed too tender.

"I really like her, Kate."

The archer made a face, bringing her lips thin together and puffed out her cheeks. "I can help you," she finally offered.

Peter's face lit up at the offer and he straightened on his chair like a spring coming back to life. "Really?!"

"Yeah, of course! I'm a great wingwoman!"

He beamed at Kate and she smiled back.

What was the worst that could happen?

*

Turns out, the worst that could happen was Kate walking in on you and Yelena, and almost dying because of it.

*

You had lived with Kate for a few months as roommates. It was a good arrangement, she was easy to live with and you got a dog out of it. But it started getting really good when she introduced you to Yelena after she broke into the apartment. Apparently it wasn't the first time the blond did that, and Kate had explained to you that it was just something she did. At first it bothered you greatly, and you kept getting mad at Yelena about it, but then she sweetened the situation with her lips on yours and your complaints died down to mere banter with her.

Your relationship escalated quickly from here as your mutual attraction grew more with each passing day. Soon enough your passionate make out session would devolve into sex, and from then on your would spend more and more time together, just talking or hanging out. You didn't know when, but at some point it felt like you had become more without even noticing. At this point you had no idea how to bring the subject to her, how to ask her what you were exactly - and maybe it had more to do with you being scared of losing her, but you weren't ready to admit it yet. So you kept sneaking around with her and all was well in the world as the status quo persevered.

Until that fateful day.

You were with Yelena in your room, your study music playlist played on your desk. Kate knew that when this playlist was on, there was no bothering you, you would just ignore anyone that tried to interact in any capacity with you. You'd been using it every time the blond would show up in a way to make sure no one would bother even knocking on your door. This made you comfortable enough to lay on your bed with your shirt off with Yelena above you. She was kissing you so slowly, taking her time and imposing her own rhythm, it was driving you crazy after she teased you almost all day via texts. You had learned rather fast in your relationship that she loved to do that: rile you up only to test your patience, to make you whimper with need when she was slowly driving you mad. You would try to speed things up, to arch against her to find a point of friction, but she would keep you down. And that was exactly what she was doing right now, with her hand holding yours above your head as she straddled your waist. No matter how much you whimpered, she still took her time.

"You're such impatient girl, Y/n," she whispered against your ear. "This won't do." She bit the skin of your neck, just above your pulse point, only to suck on it which made you moan and buckle.

"Come on, Yelena, stop playing," you begged with bated breath.

"But I like to play," she pouted. "You're so cute when you're all red and panting and bothered." You groaned, feeling your face getting redder with each of her words. She leaned closer to you, her eyes on yours as her lips turned up slightly. She was really enjoying the slow torture she was inflincting upon you.

"Yelena," your voice trailed off when you felt her free hand slide along your curves and her legs free one of yours. She gave you a peck, a stark contrast with the way she stopped along your breasts to caress them above your bra. You wanted to much more, and she knew it, you could see it in her smug smirk.

"I swear I'm going to kill you if you don't–" Her hand had moved under your panties as you were threatening her and her fingers found your slick folds, interrupting your words with a moan.

"Yes, Y/n? Is there a problem? Maybe something I can help you with? You didn't finish your sentence." You lunged forward to capture her lips for good, just wanting her to shut up and fuck you. She got the message, understanding rather easily that if she kept playing with you it would kill the mood. Her fingers started working against you, sliding easily along your folds accompanied by very explicit noises. You were getting used to her little games but it still worked wonders on you.

You were finally really getting into the thick of it, Yelena knowing exactly where to touch you, and you couldn't be more happy.

"Hey, Y/n!" A chipper voice said when your door opened. Yelena reacted on instinct and Kate dodged just in time, a throwing knife suddenly planted in your wall where she was a second before. Your hands freed you propped yourself up on your elbows, barely thinking of the fingers still in you.

"Kate, what the fuck?!" You pushed Yelena from you and she got the message. She still took the time to taste you now that her hand was free and you sent her a glare. Now was not the time anymore as you stood up. "You. We'll talk about the knife later," you mouthed to her and she looked very innocent. You had a very strong no weapons policy when in bed together.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know…"

"Yeah, because I didn't tell you for a reason, for fuck's sake! And you know better than to come into my room when I have my work playlist on!" You were pissed honestly. You trusted Kate to give you your space and privacy.

"Yeah, and I expected you to work on… on work, on university stuff, not… not on Yelena!" You groaned, bringing your hand to your forehead. "Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I just– can we talk about it later? When you're less…" she looked you up and down. You were in your bra, but it was a very sexy one, and knowing what you were doing right before clearly made her uncomfortable. You'd never seen her so red in the face.

You sighed. "Okay. Okay. Just. I'm going to go take a shower." The mood to do anything was now dead and buried. You turned to your room and Kate made a hasty retreat towards the entry door.

Yelena arched an eyebrow with an amused smirk and you could strangle her, if you didn't like her so much. You took the knife out of your wall and extended it towards her. You gave her a knowing look and she shrugged.

"I just didn't have time to get them off me when I arrived," she explained and you just tilted your head but decided to let it go, mainly because she was wrapping her arms around your neck as she walked closer to you. You could never resist her.

You leaned it for a small kiss, slowly enjoying her supple lips and the warmth it elicited in your heart. You kept it short, still wanting to take a shower. "I'm going to take a shower. You should get going," you suggested. Something passed in her eyes, an emotion you had never seen before. Was she hurt?

"You know, maybe–" she started, then thought better of it. She shook her head. "Nothing. Have a nice shower, Y/n Y/ln."

You furrowed your brows just a slight bit and she let go of you. She hadn't called you by your full name in such a long time, it felt really weird. "See you soon, Yelena," you whispered your goodbyes and she left the room.

What was that all about?

*

As soon as you left for the shower, Yelena regretted not saying anything. She had been tip toeing around the idea of officially asking you out but could never bring herself to ask officially. The first time she kissed you she didn't expect to fall for you so hard, to be fair, but the more time went on, the more she saw who you truly were. And yes, maybe you were a bit stuck up, and a bit of a brat - at first she thought it was because of your upbringing but learned later that you didn't even know Tony was your father until your mother died - but you were her stuck up brat, and under all the bravado there was so much more.

You were clever but you also worked so hard and she found you so beautiful when you were working at your desk in the worst sitting position she ever saw. Everyone thought everything came naturally to you, but it was the result of so much time spent studying. And you were always so kind, no matter how angry you were, you would just keep it under wrap until you were able to take it all out at the gym, and in the meantime you would always offer a hand to those who needed it even if they wronged you (you were luckily clever enough to not let people abuse it). You were strong headed but you still knew how to listen, and you were so soft. She never regreted kissing you in the heat of the moment. Your surprise, your dishevelled haur, your blown out pupils were so incredibly beautiful atop your dying annoyance. When you kissed her back she thought she was dreaming. And now here you both were, closer than ever.

So when you dismissed her, of course it hurt her, but Yelena decided not to push. She buried her feelings - did she even deserved to feel so happy when she was with you? - and walked out of the appartment down to the street.

"Peter, I promise, I don't think it's a good idea!" She heard Kate say to the boy she was standing next to. He had flowers in his hands and an awkward aura, but was fairly handsome. Yelena stopped in her tracks and curiosity got the better of her when she approached them, clad in her bright green coat, her hair up in a quick updo she made in the elevator.

"Hello Peter Parker, what are you doing here with those flowers?" The assassin asked. Peter flushed and looked down at the flowers. He missed all the signals from Kate to not say anything as he did so.

"Oh, huh, Yelena, I was just– I came to see Y/n. I wanted to ask her out," he managed to get out awkwardly.

Yelena let out a laugh at that, like it was some kind of joke, but when she sees Peter demeanor she realized he was serious. "Oh, you were being serious." There is a sudden edge to her voice, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface and only Kate seems to catch up onto it.

"I mean, yeah, I just, I really like her," Peter stumbled on his words. A forbidden jealousy started to expand in Yelena's chest but she managed to control her expression, staying neutral as she observed the young man. A small voice in her head came and told her that maybe he would be better for you, at least your dad would probably approve of him since he was his little protégé. "Plus, with Kate help I've prepared a really cool date."

Suddenly, all of Yelena's focus shifted to the brown-haired girl. "Oh, Kate Bishop helped you, huh." She faked being impressed. "Because she's such an expert in relationships."

Kate made herself small under the stare. Peter frowned and blinked a few times, like he was thinking about it. Yelena bopped the boy's nose. "Well, good luck, Peter Parker," she said with a smile. None of those two would ever know it was a very fake one. "I'll see you around, Kate Bishop."

And with that, she passed them and started walking away. The ugly feeling in her chest kept growing more and more as thoughts in her head spiraled. She should have stayed, squashed any hope that kid had with you, told them the truth. She almost did, almost grabbed him by his stupid buttoned up shirt and told him to step away and forget about you, but she couldn't. She never deserved you. You would be better without her. She wanted to run far away, and maybe it would be better for the both of you. Maybe it would make that ugly feeling blossoming in her chest disappear.

You deserved better.

And she wasn't it.

#reblog #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #yelena #yelena x reader

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Going Green (Kara Danvers x Reader x Lucy Lane)

Summary: You might be a hero, but James Olsen is not a fan.

Words: 1677

Warnings: James Olsen is an asshole (I liked him kind of but he wasn’t a great character. The CW coulda done better with him), possible poly relationship, language, alternate universe-y kinda.

A/N: I’ve moved. I’m alive. Things are better. This month, I’m gonna try and catch my life up and finish at least one of my series.

Taglist: @natasharomanoffswife @natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @username23345 @xjiasx @nowthisisliving27 @higherfurther-romanova @summergeezburr @marvels-writings @captain-josslett @onlyafewfindtheway @hayleyokami @b-5by5 @lostandsearching @evilcr0ne​

-X-

James Olsen could not stand you.

At. All.

Less than a week after Supergirl’s debut into National City’s spotlight, you’d appeared (both professionally and heroically), taking the fresh heroine under your wing – mostly figuratively – without an ounce of hesitation. And Kara let you, never questioning your motives and dragging you into the “Super-friends” immediately.

Keep reading

#reblog #supergirl x reader #lucy lane x reader #supergirl imagine

[thatsgay-ficrec]

Watched the first two episode of the wilds season 2…

*spoilers ahead*

I really thought dj like died. I was so convinced that something took his face like that. Like it seemed unlikely but I was just like oooh yeah seen that before.

Other major thought: Fatin is still so hot, like push me against a rock, yell at me, threaten to kill me 🫢🥹

Other than that Shoni still cute as they should.

Poor rachel, like damn.

And this definitely has me itching to finish my series so I can write about this season 😭

#the wilds #shoni #fatin #i would literally die #for fatin #anything for fatin #leah #the boys are alright #raf is bi no? #kirin reminds me of an extra aggressive toni

[thatsgay-ficrec]

reblog if you think sign language should be taught as a language in schools.

🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

#reblog

[thatsgay-ficrec]

THE HEIRESS: BRUCE WAYNE X F!READER X SELINA KYLE

summary: being adopted into one of the most wealthy families in Gotham would have been a dream come true if it were any other family but yours. when your beloved grandfather dies and names you the heir to everything,  all hell breaks loose and the only people who don’t want you dead are your exes Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle.  

trigger warnings:  violence,  blood,   injuries, mentions of abuse,  illness,  soft dom!selina switch! bruce,  praise k!nk,  someone said bruce wayne cries after sex and i support this. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE NOT 18+

CHAPTER ONE

Remember what you are.

Keep reading

#batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #selina kyle x reader #bruce wayne x selina kyle x reader #reblog

[thatsgay-ficrec]

early draft of scream (2022) would’ve made tara and amber canon girlfriends

#scream #tara carpenter #amber freeman #scream 5 #scream 2022 #scream (2022) #i feel so fucking robbed