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forever-rogue · 10 months

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Could you please write a story about how best friend reader somehow blips from the TASM!Peter’s universe into MCU!Peters universe and just about the reunion between the reader and TASM!Peter

Bonus points for angst if the reader and TASM!Peter had a fight before they blipped our

AN | This has been in my inbox for months but anon, I hope you see this, and I hope you enjoy it! And yes, I took some liberties with the Peters/timelines ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language, Nondescript mentions of Injury

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” you folded your arms across your chest as you glared at your best friend. The very same best friend that happened to be Peter Parker that also happened to be Spider-Man. The boy sighed as he hung his head, his face bruised and bloodied from a rough night.

“I think I’m being the normal amount of ridiculous,” his attempt to make a joke didn’t land well with you at all. You took the warm, wet washcloth that had been in your hand and tossed it at him. He caught it effortlessly and looked up at you with a pathetic little look on his face, “alright, I deserved that.”

“Peter,” the way you said his name was enough to make his heart constrict. He hated seeing you upset, but he hated knowing that he was the cause of your pain, “look at you. It’s almost four in the morning and you crawled in through my window, bleeding and clearly in pain. I know…fuck, I know you’re Spider-Man but I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me-”

“Telling me that isn’t going to suddenly make me stop caring, Peter Benjamin Parker,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I think that sometimes you take too many risks when you could play it safer.”

“I don’t…” he couldn’t even get the sentence out. He knew you were right and he knew that’d been even more reckless than normal lately. Peter wasn’t doing it out of anything really…he just wanted to get things and get his point across, “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” you whispered, gently taking the cloth back from him, reaching up and gently washing off the blood that had started to dry. The way he winced at even the lightest of touches caused you to frown again, “I love you, Pete. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t know if…”

You swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, blinking back the tears that were already stinging at the back of your eyes. Peter put his hand on top of your where it rested on his cheek, “nothing is going to happen to me. You’re stuck with me forever, sunshine.”

“Am I?” your voice dropped to a soft whispered, “am I stuck with you forever? Because sometimes I truly wonder about that. I don’t want you coming to me in the middle of the night hurt and upset, but I’d rather have that then nothing because the alternative is…much worse.”

“Yeah,” he missed your touch as soon as you pulled your hand back from him, “I know.”

“Promise me you’ll be more careful?” your voice shook as you willed him to look at you. You wanted him to look at you, wanted to see those big brown eyes looking back at you, “Pete…please.”

“I’ll try and be more careful,” he would barely look in your eyes and that served to break your heart even more, “but I can’t make promises that nothing’s ever going to happen again.”

“Just please don’t make all these sudden, rash decisions, Pete-”

“I can’t promise that will or won’t happen!” he didn’t mean to raise his voice and the way you flinched broke his heart, “you don’t know what it’s like out there! Sometimes you just have to do things…you can’t just think about them!”

You remained silent for a few long moments, before standing up and nodding slightly, “okay. Okay. Get out please, Peter.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I mean it Peter,” this time it was you that looked away and refused to meet his eyes, “get out. And if you keep acting like this, don’t come back.”

He looked at you in disbelief but when he saw that you weren’t joking, the reality of the situation hit him. He made a small sound before nodding and standing up. He stood there for a moment, both of you avoiding looking at each other, before he gently brushed past you and towards the window. He slid it open but before he could step all the way out he turned back, “I love you too, you know.”

He left without another word, leaving you there with your mind teeling. Had he really just said that and left?

Of course he had. This was Peter Parker after all. With the heaviest of sighs you flopped into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers as you willed sleep to claim you.

This night had turned out so entirely different from what you had imagined. Now you were afraid you’d lost him forever.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hoped that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Right? Right?

You woke up the next morning to sun streaming in through your window. You groaned as you rolled onto your other side to try and hang onto your sleepiness so you could get a little more shut eye. But luck wasn't having it, and you felt wide awake. With a groan you fumbled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom; you couldn't place it but something felt…off.

You couldn't shake the feeling all morning as you got ready for work. You checked your phone too many times for what was warranted and found nothing from Peter. You were half surprised but figured that you were pretty harsh on him last night and decided to give him some more space. You'd try him later if he hadn’t gotten back to you.

As you left your apartment for work, everything seemed slightly…different. Like there was some sort of lavender haze settling over everything. You tried to ignore it, rationalizing that you just weren't thinking straight.

When you got to your office, you received a few weird looks but no one really said anything. So, you settled into your office and got to work, ignoring the nagging feeling. The fact that you somehow couldn't remember your computer password or that everything in your office was just slightly different didn't register.

What did, however, was that Peter hadn't contacted you. So, during your lunch you decided to call him and apologize. If he was willing to listen anyway. You didn't actually want to lose him, you did, however, want him to stay safe and sound.

Midway through the day you grabbed your phone and called him, waiting either bated breath for him to answer. It rang and rang and when you thought it would be kicked over to voice-mail, it was answered.

"Hello?" It was a voice that was most decidedly not Peter. This one sounded…younger? Different? Something.

"Hi, umm, can I talk to Peter?" Maybe one of his coworkers had answered the phone for him.

"Well, you're talking to him, so…" he sounded confused as your brows knitted together, "w-who is this?"

"This isn't funny," your eyes were tearing up as you tried to figure out what kind of joke this was, "please just put on Peter. I-I need to talk to him, it's important."

"This is Peter-"

"Peter Parker."

"This is Peter Parker," you wanted to be mad but the voice on the other end of the line wasn't laughing. Nor did he sound even remotely amused, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on but…maybe you have the wrong number?"

You hung up without another word, mind racing as you tried to put all the pieces together. Who had Peter's phone? And why?

What was going on?

The rest of the day went by in a blur, as your mind wandered and wandered through a million possibilities of what was going on with Peter. You came to the only logical explanation you could think of - you would simply go by his place to see what was going on.

As soon as you were done, you almost ran out and to his apartment. The concerned looks you were getting from passersby didn't phase you. All you could think of was Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You knocked on his door, looking around the hall and noticing that a lot of people had made some changes to their places and there were new plants. You listened for his familiar footsteps but after a few moments when you didn't hear anything, you knocked again, this time with more vigor.

This door was wrenched open after a few moments and you found yourself face to face with a young man with wide brown eyes and curious expression etched onto his features.

"Hello?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion, "can I help you?"

"Peter - where's Peter?" You tried to look past him but realized you had no clue who this kid was. Peter was your best friend, you knew his other friends too, "and who are you?"

"Umm…" he looked behind you before turning around and studying his own space. The boy grimaced before exhaling slowly, "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."

"I…I don't understand," you shook your head, rubbing at your tired face in exasperation, "is this supposed to be a joke? Is he in on it?"

"There's - no. Here," he reached into his pocket and fished out his ID and handed it to you. A gasp escaped your lips as you studied. He was Peter Parker and his home address was listed the same as the real Peter, "I don't know what happened with the mix up but-

"Spider-Man," you breathed out softly and a look of shock crossed his features, "how did…how?"

"Peter - my Peter - he's Spider-Man," your mind was reeling as you tried to put all the pieces together, "he has the same phone number and this is his address."

"Wait…" his brows knitted together, "what's your name?"

You told him your name and let out a bit of incredulous laughter, "I know you. Well, umm…I-I guess a version of you. Or whatever this is you. My aunt works with you."

"May? May Parker?" You asked and he nodded with a sheepish shrug. Your May was definitely not going to be the same person, you knew that much. You exhaled slowly, "this is so weird. I don't know what or how or why or anything but I don't think I belong here. You're not…my Peter."

"No," he shook his head and motioned for you to come inside. You stepped into the familiar, yet completely new, apartment and looked around, "is everything okay with him? Your Peter? Are you....?”

“He’s my best friend,” you looked around at all the photos that lined the walls. There were plenty of Peter along with what you assumed were his friends and aunt. Definitely not your May, “at least we were. We kind of got into a fight last night and I basically told him to get out.”

“Oh,” he watched you curiously, “I’ve gotten into a few of those arguments before.”

“You mean the ones where someone gets mad at you for being reckless and asks you to be careful but you claim its part of the job but you’ll try your best?” you asked and Peter nodded in amusement. Part of the job, you supposed. You ran a hand through your hair, “He kept getting hurt and its been getting worse lately and I just…I want him to be careful, you know? He keeps coming through my window, bleeding and bruised, and I’m afraid one day that he’s just not going to be there. He’s not going to come home to me. And I-I can’t lose him. He is…everything to me.”

A mixture of emotions colored his features as you offered him a small, sad little smile, “you’re in love with him.”

“Yeah,” you couldn’t even pretend to lie about it, “I am. I have been for a long time. I’ve just never told him. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I don’t think you have to tell him,” he offered you a lopsided little smile before tilting his head to one of the pictures on the wall. It was of him and a beautiful girl, both of them beaming at the camera, “not if it’s anything like that.”

“I don’t know,” you’d always wondered if he knew or felt the same. You had no idea and now you were afraid that you might never find out, “but what if I…how do I even get back? What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know how it all works,” he confessed and while you knew that it wasn’t his fault at all, you couldn’t help your sigh, “it’s confusing to me at times too. But there’s a whole…multiverse…theory and all that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, “all that wild, sciencey stuff. Pete is the science brain…just like you I presume. I’m the…not science person. It all gets kind of lost on me. I just don’t know what to do now.”

“Maybe we can figure it out,” he suggested and you couldn’t help but admit that the kid was growing on you. He seemed sincere and kind…he did remind you of your Peter in a lot of ways, “just give me some time to think, okay?”

“Thank you,” you reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “you’re very kind. In the meantime I guess I’ll just try and keep calm and all that.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked softly, “do you want to stay here?”

“I’ll go back to my…well, this world’s anyway, apartment,” you hadn’t seen anyone else, namely the alternate universe you, in the apartment or anywhere at your work. You figured you’d probably replaced her…or yourself or whatever it was, “I guess I’ll see you around? You have my number now if you think of anything.”

“I will,” he promised, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow and we can figure out something. If you need anything or anything seems off, please call or text me.”

“Sounds good,” you headed towards the door and gave him a small smile, “thank you, Peter. It seems like in every universe you’re a good guy.”

“But we’ll get you back to your Peter. Promise,” he held up his hand with his outstretched pinkie and you couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness. You hooked your pinkie around his and nodded.

You had some hope that whatever happened would be fixed.

Then you’d go back to Peter and finally tell him how you felt. You had to - you knew you did.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed without much happening. You spent the time you could with Peter and his friend Ned trying to go through all the possible things that could have happened. You kept rehashing each moment in your mind, going through it all over and over again until you felt like you no longer knew what had actually happened.

The worst part of all was that none of you could figure out exactly what happened or why you were suddenly there instead of your own home. The only thing it did was cause your hope to slowly dwindle away - what if you were stuck there forever? What if you never saw Peter again? That would have been the worst thing of all. The boys did help though and kept reassuring you that things would be alright. You hoped they were right.

After a week, you started to accept that you weren’t going anywhere. At least, you reasoned with yourself, you weren’t stuck in some weird universe that was completely different from what you knew.

Things were starting to seem normal, until late one evening while you were watching a movie and you heard a loud, frantic knocking at the door.

“Hold on, hold on,” you set your ice cream down and padded towards the door. Perhaps it was a neighbor you hadn’t met before or maybe someone had the wrong address; either way, you definitely weren’t expecting anyone. You opened the door without even thinking about checking to see who it was, “hello?”

“Hi,” your mouth opened and closed a few times as you looked at the man standing across the threshold. Peter Parker. But not just any Peter Parker, it was your Peter.

“Peter?” you almost whispered his name and he nodded at you, confused for just a moment. Without thinking about it, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you without missing a beat as he hugged you back just as fiercely, “Peter!”

“Sunshine,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “oh, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you pulled back and took his face in your hands, looking him over. It was still the same man you loved and adored, the bruises and scratches from the last time you’d seen him almost completely gone, “I…I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“You didn’t really think one little argument was going to keep me away, did you?” he wrapped his fingers around your wrists, looking at you softly, “I thought that maybe you didn’t want to see me. You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”

“I…” he had no clue. He had no idea that you’d been gone for over a week, “how long was I avoiding you?”

“Like…ten days, not that I’ve been counting or anything,” he admitted sheepishly, cheeks pinking, “this was kind of my last ditch attempt to apologize and to tell you that -”

“I’m in love with you,” you couldn't help yourself - you just had to get it out. His big, brown eyes softened and he seemed to lose his voice for a moment. You nervously smiled at him, “Peter Parker. My Peter.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, heart eyed with a lovesick smile on his face, “I’m yours.”

This time he surprised you by pulling you in and kissing you. His actions caught you so off guard that it took you a moment to respond. When you did, you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much hunger and neediness. Neither of you wanted to stop, reluctantly pulling apart when you needed air.

“I’m, ugh, in love with you too,” he pressed his forehead against yours and you couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses from him, “have you been okay? I was getting worried when you didn’t call or text back. No one had seen you either.”

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” you reached for his hand and pulled him inside, “so much.”

“Wait - did something happen?” he looked you over, relieved to see that you didn’t appear to be in any sort of pain or harm, “sunshine?”

“I haven’t been gone,” you weren’t even sure where to begin with this one, “well, not really. I was with Peter Parker.”

“Umm….not sure where I was, but I don’t remember…”

“I don’t expect you to - but you’ll understand,” you looked at him with wide eyes, “because while it was Peter Parker - it wasn’t you. A-and Aunt May was different too.”

“Whoa, whoa,” he grew excited as he quickly caught up on what you were saying - he was a practical genius after all, “are you saying that…”

“Multiverse,” you finished for him, “it’s all true - I think. Some of it anyway.”

“Holy shit.”

“I have so much to tell you,” you grinned, “and, ugh, thank you for not immediately assuming I was crazy.”

“I’m Spider-Man,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ve heard and experienced stranger things. Tell me more.”

“I will,” you promised, dragging him over to the couch before stopping yourself, “wait - there’s something else I want to do first.”

“What is it-”

And then you were kissing him again and he immediately melted into your touch.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, “I could get used to that.”

“Good,” you beamed at him and things suddenly felt right again the world, “me too.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew!peter #spider-man

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 months

Text

Rough Waters ~ P.P.

A/n: Added a little bit more than what the request asked for. Hope you like it!

Request: “Tasm!peter x male reader, where Pete and reader been having a rough time in their relationship to where Peter asks if reader wants to break up” by anon

Word Count: 1700+

MASTERLIST

"Where have you been?"

Peter frozen, mask in hand as he heard his partner's voice. He turned slowly - like a teenager caught coming home past curfew. He hesitated, analyzing their expression and body language to try to grasp whether they were anxious or angry. What time was it? He was in costume - they knew exactly where he'd been, which meant the problem was something else. Had he forgotten an anniversary or birthday? A performance? Had he stayed out too late and forgotten to message his boyfriend?

There were too many possibilties.

Y/n was especially hard to read tonight, which meant he was even more upset than usual. Peter braced himself. "Out."

That was not the right thing to say. Y/n's face turned a light shade of red as he tried very hard to keep calm and talk slowly. Calmly. "Okay. I'll give you that one." His eyes dropped to Peter's suit and for a second the most visceral rage crossed his face, before he smoothed it out again and met Peter's eyes. "I'm assuming you forgot then."

Peter shrugged, defensive. Always defensive. "I've got a lot going on Y/n, I forget."

"You forget," Y/n scoffed. The words curled from his lips like they were almost laughable, almost offensive. "I know you forget Peter. You forget, a lot."

He swallowed, wringing his mask. He felt cornered and he never responded well when he felt cornered. "What did I forget? Don't just leave it up in the air."

The calm coming from Peter seemed to make Y/n angrier. "No. I'm not going to remember everything for you. And don't you dare-" He rushed as Peter went to argue again, cutting him off before he could. "-start with me about how busy you are. I know you are busy Peter Benjamin." Ooh, middle name. This was very bad then. "If it was something I at least cared about I'd let it slide. I'm more than used to that. But May?"

His words hurt, but nothing knocked the breath out of his lungs like thinking he'd let May down. "What? Y/n you can't hold this from me, what did I forget?"

Y/n scoffed, turning away and heading further into the apartment. He seemed done with the conversation.

Peter wasn't though. He chased his boyfriend, his own anger growing. This wasn't something they could work through together - May was waiting for something from him. Y/n was holding him back from doing something for his aunt. This wasn't a small thing - this was huge. May didn't know Peter was Spider-Man. Had Y/n given him an excuse again? Was she okay? "Y/n-" He reached out, grabbing his boyfriend's arm in a desperate attempt to get him to stop.

Usually Y/n would pull away from him, spin around and start going off. Reprimand him and tell him everything and then they'd argue and after a while maybe cry and then they'd hold each other because it felt like their relationship was falling through their fingers. They did it every time anything went wrong - it was habit. Easy to play out. Every step was expected. Pre-written.

Except Y/n just stopped walking away. He froze, feet together, still looking away from Peter. It was so unexpected, so cold and far away, that it made Peter panic more than he'd ever panicked in their relationship before. He was stiff solid for a beat before he was falling forward, feet tripping to keep up as he made his way around Y/n. The man's eyes were blank. Empty. There was no anger on his face anymore, just... emptiness. He look exhausted.

"Y/n-" Peter began.

"It was May's birthday."

There was a long silence. It went on maybe even too long as Peter's will to fight suddenly left him. It was immediately gone - like a light switch turned off. He had been forgetful recently, scattered and distant. But.. surely he wouldn't forget that. Not something so important. He'd always rushed to keep himself busy. Work, Spider-Man, relationship. Or... arguing. Fighting. Had that really been every part of his life recently? Sure he did other things -

But, no. He couldn't think of a single other thing he'd done. Sleep, eat, shower, brush teeth, work, Spider-Man, come home and argue. When had arguing become part of the routine? When had the days started to blend together, every single one identical to the last? How had so much time passed without him even realizing it?

How long had they been like this?

He looked at Y/n, a horrible feeling sinking in his skin, settling in his rib cage. An ache. "We're not working anymore, are we?" He knew why Y/n didn't fight this time. Why he'd given up. There was nothing to fight for. Not when all they did was argue.

Y/n didn't even sigh, or shrug. He just sat on the bed. No hands through his hair. He didn't seem angry of frustrated or even sad. Just tired. It was more of an answer than he could have ever given with words. "We haven't worked for a very long time, Peter."

Peter sat on the other side of the bed, mask still in his hands, dangling between his legs. They sat like that for a very long time, backs to each other. It seemed silly, but he had to ask it out loud. "Do you want to break up?" His voice sounded heavy, hollow. It didn't even shock him. He realized it still hurt... but he'd seen this coming for a long time. That was why he was avoiding it, after all. He didn't want to address it. He had always been one to bury his head and pretend nothing was wrong.

This time Y/n did sigh. "Yeah." No argument. No fight. Just one, single word. It was so final, Peter didn't say anything else. He didn't even look up as the weight on the bed lifted and a few sounds here and there began to be made. A zipper, drawers opening and closing, a few doors opening and closing. Until - "You were worth it. In the end. I'm glad we got the time we did." A pause and then, "Peter?" When he didn't say anything, Y/n went silent. Then the bedroom door closed, and the apartment door opened, and then closed again.

The rest of the night was silent.

The daycare was loud. Peter was only here because May had asked him for a favor. Her neighbor had been caught up with something and needed someone to pick up her son. The first time had been a few months ago, and he had volunteered to pick the kid up for her as often as he could since then. It helped her out and... and...

Y/n was helping Michael - the child Peter was supposed to pick up - with his jacket. Y/n had kneeled down, and was laughing at some story Michael was telling. He looked breathtaking. All the weight from his shoulders gone, seeming to have slept very well. Brighter than before. He looked up when Peter approached, and not a lick of recognition was in his eyes. Peter thought back to the other world, with the two other Peters and the villains they'd fought together. The spell that would send everyone home and make everyone forget about Peter Parker.

Everyone.

He swallowed, forcing himself to collect himself. Y/n's eyes light up in the way they always did when he was looking at something he found wonderful. Or someone attractive. They'd seen each other from a distance so often. Y/n was usually busy with one of the other kids who favored him, a little girl with green eyes that always begged him to help her get her shoes on. Today she was with one of the other teachers though. Peter tried to dismiss the thought that Y/n might have arranged this on purpose.

"Hey little dude," he greeted Michael first, grinning as the toddler waddled up to him, hands reaching up. Peter scooped him up. Michael launched into a story about play time where they'd pretended to be Spider-Man. Peter felt his heart warm. He'd only been back from the other world for a year - and undoing his tarnished reputation had been hard work. But some people saw the old Spider-Man, and they were slowly opening up to him again. Glad to see him doing better. Some people didn't - but some people never would have in the first place, so he didn't hold it against himself too harshly.

In the middle of the story, Y/n chuckled. "Right?" Michael asked the teacher, as if remembering he was there for the first time. "You got the bad guy!"

Y/n blushed. The way Michael had been telling the story, Peter had assumed the boy had been playing Spider-Man. But, in that moment, it clicked that Y/n had been playing the hero, leaving the mischievous villain to the youth. "Spider-Man always gets the bad guy. That's what heroes do." Peter's breath caught. he hadn't heard Y/n call him a hero in a very long time. His unknowing ex looked over, suddenly sheepish "Sorry, I know- um- not a lot of people approve of Spider-Man. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay," Peter was quick to reassure. "His mom is a fan of Spider-Man. But even if she wasn't, I wouldn't rat you out." He winked, as if they were conspirators, and he watched Y/n's face turn red. It was so easy to pick up on all their little hints and expressions - they were still so familiar to him. He hadn't forgotten a single detail of them, even after all this time. He had gone to another world, cleaned up his act, and even started therapy.

Maybe a second chance wouldn't be too out of the question. He could do it better this time.

"A trust worthy guy," Y/n mused. "Does he keep his promises?"

Peter thought on it. Y/n had said something similar the first time he had flirted with Peter too. He'd follow it up with, 'maybe you can promise me dinner then?' or something. But it was a real question - one Peter hadn't taken seriously enough the first time it was asked. "I try to."

Y/n's face light up with a smile. "Maybe you could promise we a coffee and if you succeed keeping that one, we can make a few more after that."

It was better than last time, so quickly on a better foot already. Peter smiled. "Yeah. I'd love that."

Y/n had been right the night he'd left. Peter was glad they'd met, and their love was worth all of the mess they'd gone through to experience it. This time, Peter would try harder though. This time it would work. He was sure of it.

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

#male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter 3 x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #Peter 3 #tasm Peter Parker #tasm #the amazing spider man x reader #the amazing spider man x male reader #the amazing spider man imagine #the amazing Spider-Man #dc #dc x male reader #dc imagine #dc x reader

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liyawritesss · 11 months

Text

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ

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

Type: Fic

Word Count: 11.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alex was…perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shuri, I said I’m fine-”

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

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

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

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

“Griot.”

“Yes, Panther?”

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

A beat passes, as Griot computes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Might I speak freely, Panther?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You were thirsty,” You point out.

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

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

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

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

“My parents are gonna come.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She loves you.

She is proud of you.

The pressure on your chest becomes lighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think this classifies as bullying-”

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

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

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

“Looking like what?”

“Like you’re contemplating murder.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Beloved-”

“Shuri.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy birthday baby!”

“Happy birthday, babygirl.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up-”

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

Kitchen. Now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strike one.

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

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

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

“Well, wise men they were.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My mother is dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

Strike two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s two strikes by my count.”

“I know.”

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

“I know.”

“What do you want to do, beloved?”

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

“Let’s…stay.”

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

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

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

“One more chance, then?”

“Hopefully they make it count.”

Shuri remembers how she used to dislike family dinners.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Awesome!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-nevermind.

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

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

“We have a toast as well!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was discipline!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t let my husband go-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

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The Beauty and the Brawn - Emmett Cullen x Reader

Summary: You try to prove to Emmett that he won’t hurt you with his enhanced strengths

Words: 2k

Warnings: Oral (F!recieving)

Notes: idk what this is really, just had the idea for a few days

Y/N’s POV

Emmett is strong, stronger than most vampires having gotten enhanced strength when he was changed. He’s always seen it as an added perk as it’s not something drastic like Alice’s future telling or Benjamin’s elemental manipulations, it was just that he was a little stronger than the others. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then he met me and now, as much as I tell him otherwise, he sees his strength as a curse. He gets scared he’ll get too carried away with me, forget I’m still human and accidentally hurt me or kill me. As much as I reassure Emmett that he could never hurt me he will still try and avoid the topic, kissing me the most he trust himself to do. Every time we get hot and heavy and I guide things on a little he backs up with that pained look in his eyes. Everything about him screams that he wants me back but the pain in his eyes tells me he’s scared which always catches me off guard as this is Emmett Cullen. Outgoing, loud and loving Emmett… too scared to even touch me at times despite how much his feelings were mutual.

Today is no different and I decide to take a different approach, even if it doesn’t mean sex. I just want Emmett to see that he can trust himself with me and that I’m not as fragile as he thinks. We’re sat on his bed, a bed he got Carlisle to get without specifying why. The Cullen’s don’t know me yet except maybe Alice and Edward because of their gifts but they apparently haven’t said anything to the others. Emmett doesn’t want them to all bombard me and he’s also worried about how Rosalie will take it that he’s moved on already which I understand and I agreed to take it as slow as he wants with meeting them.

Emmett’s hand is on my thighs as we sit shoulder to shoulder, watching a movie on the TV he also had installed. I’m barely paying attention to it though, focusing on his icy touch on my bare skin, being in only shorts as it’s just us here for another day to two. Emmett said the others had gone on a hunting trip and he elected to say home. I say fuck it, it’s now or never so I’m turning my body to face him, reaching over to cup his cheek and I ask, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, why-“ He’s frowning until I begin shifting, moving onto my knees and turning my body towards him, “Y/N, I-“

“Just trust me baby,” I stroke his cheek reassuringly, watching him lean into my palm and those beautiful golden eyes flutter shut for a moment. With Emmett’s eyes still closed I shift my body further until I’m straddling him, legs either side of his thick thighs. His muscles tense as he realises I’m seated, arms resisting ever so slightly when I guide his hands to my hips, holding them there to show him that he won’t hurt me. The heat seems to rise between us as I lean in, lips almost touching his as I whisper, “Emmett, I trust you. I trust you with everything.”

His eyes fly open at this, the confusion and fear in them until he sees I’m not lying to him, keeping my face open and honestly so he can see the trust and love and it works as his expression softens, “Y/N.” He’s whispering, voice filled with emotions that I can’t quite decipher so I just lean forwards again and capture his lips in a gentle and pliant kiss. The kiss is tender and slow, as if we’re exploring each other for the first time. My heart is racing as I feel the softness of his lips against mine, the taste of him sweet and familiar, the tension in Emmett’s body slowly melting away as he gets lost in the kiss so I take another risk and deep it. Emmett’s hands are moving up and down my sides and back, testing the waters cautiously and the feel of his hands on my skin sends shivers down my spine, knowing I want more.

Too soon am I having to break the kiss as unlike Emmett I still need to consume oxygen. His golden eyes have darkened a little with love and desire, a soft sound leaving him when I caress his cheek gently, “Emmett,” My voice is a barely above a whisper, as if scared to break the moment, “I need you. Need all of you.”

Emmett’s eyes widen in surprise at the bluntness of my words, looking at me intently as if trying to decipher if I’m really serious about what I said. I can see the mixture of emotions playing across his face - desire; love; fear and protectiveness. I stay seated in his lap as I wait for his response, letting him work through his emotions and letting him decide. He wants me but he’s afraid of hurting me, his hands retreating again so I catch them in mine and squeeze reassuringly. His eyes flick down to our interlocked hands before back to my face before he’s swallowing and mumbling out, “Start with a shower first?”

“Whatever you want Pretty Boy.” I’m nodding, guiding one of his large hands to my cheek and pressing a kiss to his open palm before he’s surprising me and drawing me into another kiss. This one’s different, he’s not holding back as much, it’s hungrier almost. There’s an urgency to the kiss, his lips moving with more purpose as his moves to the back of my head, deepening the kiss. His other hand finds it’s way back to my waist, pulling me flush against him. It’s like he’s been holding back for so long and how he’s finally allowing himself to let go and now he can’t seem to get enough. I respond with equal fervour, my hands tangling in his hair as we explore each other’s mouths.

Emmett’s breaking the kiss before me, standing up effortlessly and cradling me in his arms as if I weight nothing which I guess I really don’t for him. I’m wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, holding on tight as he carries me to the bathroom, feeling his muscles tense and flex under his shirt with each step. He’s setting me on the counter, a playful smile on his face and a rumble in his chest when I squeal at how cold the counter is. He’s stealing another kiss from me before moving to turn on the shower, letting it heat up and moving back over to me, standing between my legs. He’s looking at me with a soft expression, making sure this is what I really want, his hands running over my waist and pulling back slightly to ask, “You sure about this, honey?” His eyes are filled with concern and love, making me feel even more secure in my decision.

To prove my point I pull my shirt over my head and letting it fall to the floor, watching Emmett’s lips part slightly in a hitched breath at the sight of me now bare except for a pair of shorts. Emmett’s eyes are skimming over my body, taking in every dip and curve and scar on display to him. His hands coming up to gently trace along my arms and down my sides, as if savouring the feeling of my skin against his fingertips. Despite his obvious desire he still checks with me if this is okay, eyes flicking back up to mine every few seconds until I’m guiding his hands up to my breasts, watching his reaction. He surprises me by dragging me into such a tender and loving kiss as he explores this new territory.

Our bodies press together, Emmett’s hands now tracing circles on my back as he deepens the kiss, his very obvious arousal pressing into my thigh but he’s taking it slow as if he’ll spook me. His lips move down my neck as he murmurs against the skin, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His large hands grip my hips and I’m soon standing again, feeling cold fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts.

“Please.” I’m practically begging and Emmett’s groaning into the crook of my neck, surprising me again as he sinks to his knees as he slides the shorts down my legs, throwing them aside before his gaze finds mine and I’m having to bite my lip at the sight of Emmett on his knees for me. His strong hands grip my hips as he begins nosing at my thighs, lips ghosting over them and teeth grazing until he’s nudging my legs apart enough blow cold air over my slickness, making me gasp and squirm. Before I can say or do anything those skilled lips are kissing my folds, nose bumping my clit before he licks a confident stripe up, gauging my reaction. His tongue flutters against my clit before he’s eating me like a starved man, hands gripping my hips tight enough that I can’t wriggle away from the pleasure.

My hand is gripping his hair, the other bracing myself against the counter as he moans, sending vibrations through that oversensitive bundle of nerves. He’s dipping his tongue in and out of my core with precision and sloppiness before he moves back to my clit, my body trying to jerk away but his grip is tight enough to promise bruises and fuck that just makes everything more intense. All too soon I can feel myself starting to pulse around his tongue that hasn’t stopped fucking into me and my hands tugs almost painfully at his hair while my head falls back with a whine, my thighs trying to clamp around Emmett’s head as my vision partially whites out and all I hear is white noise, unsure if I’m crying out Emmett’s name.

“Emm, fuck Emmett, too much.” I’m begging and he finally pulls back, looking up at me with half-lidded eyes and he looks fucking dirty, his mouth and chin shiny with my juices and his golden eyes have darkened even more. His thumbs caress my hips as he pulls himself to his feet moving to kiss me with a cheeky grin when I lightly push his face away saying, “No, clean your face first.”

“I do believe a shower was suggested.” He agrees and I’m nodding, tugging at his shirt to which he complies, pulling it over his head and I can’t help wet my lips at how good he looks. Sure, I’ve seen Emmett change but this is different, he’s baring himself for me and me alone. His shirt reveals his chiseled abs and braid chest, my eyes roaming over his muscular physique with appreciation. His defined biceps and broad shoulders are evidence of the immense physical strength he possesses and the way his tone torso tapers down to his waist makes me want to run my hands over his hard body. As he undresses further, my gaze is drawn to his thick thighs, my heart racing against as he’s straining against his boxers and fuck, he is in no way small. The boxers barely able to contain him, the angry red head slipped past the waistband, precum wetting his v-line a little, “Come on lovely, eyes up here.”

I tear my eyes away from his enticing bulge, feeling heat rising to my cheeks at being caught. But I can't help the desire that courses through me as I watch him step out of his boxers, completely naked before me. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I can feel the anticipation building between us as we move towards the shower. As we step under the warm water, Emmett pulls me close, his hands roaming over my wet skin as we continue to explore each other's bodies. I know this is only the beginning, and I can't wait to see what other surprises Emmett has in store for me.

-----------

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thewulf · 1 year

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Who are You? Part 2 || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: After breaking up with you lovely cheating fiancée you find a place to stay at your Aunt Penny's house in San Diego. You might just get more than you bargained for when you meet the Jake Seresin.

A/N: Hi friends! Sorry, this took longer than I wanted to, I wasn’t originally planning on doing a Part 2, so it took a bit to come up with a decent storyline. Please, as always, let me know what you think! Thanks for all the love. This is all fluff. Pure fluff! Also, you like sharks.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 5,800+

Part 1

“Shark Week! Shark Week! Shark Week!” You chanted excitedly hopping on the couch next to Amelia.

“Are you seriously wearing a shark shirt Y/N?” Amelia asked peaking curiously at your Jaws shirt. You loved sharks. You always have always thought they were fascinating. You could thank your mother for that. Emily Benjamin, now Emily Y/L/N. The admiral’s other daughter was also obsessed with sharks. From an early age Admiral James Benjamin took Emily and Penny to go see the sharks at the aquarium. Your mom was quickly obsessed. The two of you always watched shark week together, very animatedly.

You wide eyed her, disappointed in Penny’s not as enthusiastic nature, “And you’re not?”

She laughed tossing the remote in your direction, “No, I didn’t know it was shark week.”

You gasped, rather dramatically, making her turn around in shock, “Amelia Benjamin! That is unacceptable.” You found the Discovery channel right before 8 o’clock hit, grinning in anticipation of learning some more about sharks.

She shrugged, “Now I know. I guess I’ll watch with you?”

“You guess? You’re sitting here until 11 with me. It’s Great White night.” You laughed softly knowing you were straight up nerding out on her.

“There’s nights for specific sharks?”

You nodded, “Only the really popular ones. My favorite, the Tiger Shark, doesn’t get as much love as they deserve. They unfortunately don’t get a night.”

“You have a favorite shark?” She smirked turning her body to you fully. Amelia knew a lot about you, she didn’t know this though. This was interesting to her.

“You don’t?”

“No.” She answered honestly, never really thinking about. See, Penny wasn’t nearly as obsessed as your mom, Emily is. She didn’t have shark week marathons rolling like your mom did.

“Wow.” You feigned hurt placing a hand over your heart, “Well it’s a great week to pick a favorite one!”

She shook her head laughing at you, “You’re precious Y/N.”

“Now,” You clicked your tongue, “A 15 year old should not be telling an almost 30 year old that they are precious.”

“Well,” She challenged you, eyeing you like she was the bigger person, “You are. I’ve never seen anyone geek out on shark week like this.”

Just as you were about to counter, Penny came through the front door. Pete in tow. Your face lit up, “You guys are home just in time for shark week!” You spoke clapping your hands with glee.

Penny smiled while Mav looked straight up confused, “Emily is that you?”

“Should I facetime her in?” The idea popped into your head.

Penny giggled, “No Y/N. Your mom will be too invested to even hold a conversation with us, no point in calling her while it’s on.” You nodded in agreement. The two of you had a system down, no talking while the show was on. But the two of you debriefed during commercials. A mother and daughter shark week combo.

“What’s going on?” Pete chimed in looking bewildered.

“It’s shark week!” You grinned up to him, not daring to move from your comfortable spot on the couch.

“Duh, Mav.” Amelia winked at him knowing how lost he was.

His eyebrows were stitched together in utter confusion, “Okay. And?”

You grumbled, “I’m not doing this again.” You frowned turning your attention back to the TV.

Amelia let out a roaring laugh, “Y/N loves sharks. Just like mom’s sister, Emily, does. Y/N here, is getting a little agitated that we all aren’t sharing the love when it comes to sharks.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to love sharks. Just means you’re opinion is wrong. I won’t hold it against any of you.” You smiled sweetly at the trio.

“Just like Emily.” Penny laughed ruffling your hair.

You spent the next three hours entranced by the Discovery channel. To your surprise all three of them stayed to watch with you. You saw the way Pete and Amelia watched, more interested than they would admit. You answered all their questions hoping they’d appreciate sharks just a little bit more.

The next morning as you got up you noticed the Discovery channel was turned on, Amelia watching eating a bowl of cereal. No sign of Penny or Pete just yet, “I knew I’d make you a shark lover!” You clapped not being able to contain your excitement.

She shook her head at you, “Actually pretty interesting.”

“Told you!” You poured your own bowl of cereal joining her on the couch again.

She shrugged, “So, it’s Saturday.” She cocked her eye waiting for you to continue.

“Yes it is, I’m glad you can read the date.” Chirping back to her you suddenly were super interested in the bowl of cereal.

She pushed you lightly, “Shut up, I’m talking about your date tonight with Jake.”

“What about it little cousin?”

“What are you guys doing?” She questioned curiously. Amelia knew of Jake. She had seen him around a a few times just knowing how he operated. Amelia knew that Jake was likely not the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with, but she hated seeing you sad over a loser who cheated on you. She was desperate to get you thinking of something else. Her solution was to push you towards the cute Naval aviator who was too smooth for his own good.

You looked down at your phone seeing his recommendations for wear he had sent you the previous night, refusing to give you details of the date. He said he had some plans and that you should dress comfortable, you’d be doing some walking. You were simply praying you weren’t going on a hike. You liked the outdoors when it came to the beach and the water. But hiking outdoors was not your best friend.

“He won’t tell me.”

She giggled, “He’s surprising you.”

“Mhmm.” You sighed, “I’m a little concerned. But he seems like a nice enough guy.”

You heard Pete make his way down from Penny’s bedroom. You ignored what you knew was going down up there, “Who? Hangman? Nice?” Pete chucked starting the coffee maker up.

You narrowed your eyes in on Pete, “He is nice, nice to me at least.”

Pete’s chuckled turned into full on laugh now. He joined you and Amelia in the living room once the coffee maker was humming, “Hangman might be the biggest asshole I’ve met. That’s saying a lot considering who I work with.”

You frowned, Amelia immediately noticing, “That’s rich coming from you Mav.” Amelia countered seeing your mood deflate at the comment.

“Ouch, Amelia. That stings.” He smiled, not realizing he had sent you reeling in your mind. Was he an asshole? He sure didn’t seem like it. Maybe that’s just the way he comes off in training. Should you go out with him? It’s only been about a month since you and Aaron called it all off. You didn’t hear the back and forth going on between Amelia and Pete, stuck in your thoughts. You were always stuck in your own mind.

“Isn’t that right Y/N?” Amelia’s question snapped you back into the present.

“What?” You turned looking to her.

She gave you a half smile seeing the confusion on your face and how such a simple comment could send you spiraling, “You’re going to have a great date with Jake tonight.” She answered you.

Your mouth ran dry. Were you? Was he just trying to sleep with you? Get into your pants? “Yeah… yeah I think so.” You faltered.

Pete could pick up on the sudden shift in the room, trying to backtrack, “All pilots are assholes though, Y/N.”

Ugh. You felt terribly uneasy all of the sudden. You didn’t think should be going on this date anymore, “Mav!” Amelia shouted at him, again breaking you from your thoughts.

“What?” He asked her looking genuinely confused.

“You’re freaking Y/N out.” She glared at him, arms crossed and all.

You hummed, “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not! You’re about to cancel on him.”

You hadn’t realized you reached for your phone subconsciously, “No.” You shook your head not being able to form coherent sentences. Penny had a reason to watch Jake closely, why were you ignoring that?

Amelia was shooting daggers at Mav now, “You can’t cancel on him, Y/N.”

You sighed putting your phone down, “Maybe it’s not the best idea.” You concluded looking at your hands in your lap.

She snatched your phone from the coffee table, “You are going on this date Y/N.”

You blinked a few times trying to get yourself to think straight, “Why are you so adamant?”

Amelia groaned, “You’ve got to get out there. You can’t let a douche bag break your heart and then hole up. Go on the date.” She smiled as kindly as she could muster putting your phone in her pocket.

“I’m going to need that Meals.” You held you hand out expecting the teenager to give it back.

“Not until you promise me you won’t cancel.”

“Fine, I won’t cancel.”

Pete watched in amusement as the two of you went back in forth, “For what it’s worth, I do think you should go Y/N.” He spoke throwing his two cents in.

“You just called him an asshole!” You countered.

He shrugged taking his eyes off the shark program, “And Penny’s going out with me.”

Amelia laughed at his quick comeback, “He’s got a point.”

You groaned getting up from your seat, “I’m going. Can you give me my phone back?”

She gave you a mischievous look shaking her head, “You’ll have to catch me first!” She sprinted right out the front door.

You gave Pete a bewildered look, “What the hell?”

He laughed seeing Amelia run around the backyard, “She’s just excited you’re around.”

“She’s crazy if she thinks I’m running to get her.”

Pete smiled, “She’ll tire herself out eventually anyway.”

“A real life Golden Retriever”

You took your time getting ready. Opting for a cute sundress and a pair of comfortable sandals. After Amelia finally gave you your phone back you confirmed you were not in fact hiking, thank goodness. Amelia helped you as well, picking out the Jake confirmed he was picking you up at 1 o’clock sharp.

You felt your heart rate pick up the pace when you glanced at your phone showing 12:55. Now or never. Penny and Pete were out back doing something with Amelia doing homework in the kitchen, always doing homework.

“Oh wow, you look really pretty Y/N. Like really pretty.” She excitedly clapped her hands together, “Mom! Come look at Y/N!”

“You look beautiful.” Penny placed her hands on both of your arms, “You look just like your mom.” She squeezed you into a hug. Pete stood there in the doorway awkwardly smiling, unsure of what to say.

All of your attention was suddenly on the door when three loud knocks rang through, “Act normal! Go away!” You shooed everybody back to their previous spots.

“Have fun Y/N.” Penny gave you another squeeze before heading back outside. Pete nodded to you and Amelia was not so discretely staring right at the door doing her ‘homework’.

You composed yourself. It’s just a boy. That’s all it really was at the end of the day. You opened the door being greeted by the most handsome man, “Right on time.” You gave him a closed mouth smile feeling awfully self-conscious all the sudden.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, not even for a split second. You could really see why women swooned over Lieutenant Jake Seresin. He carried himself so confidently, always so seemingly sure of himself. His demeanor also sucked you right in. He didn’t even have to say a word and you were nearly breathless.

“You look,” He took a step back quickly admiring you, “downright breathtaking darling.”

You turned your head away ever so slightly having to mentally remind yourself not to fall for everything he says. He sure had the charm.

“Thank you.” Act normal. You prayed you were wearing enough makeup to cover the blush spreading across your cheeks, “You look great too.”

“Always do.” He winked holding his hand out to you. Was that a red flag? Should you even be doing this right now? You tried to shut your brain up enough to just enjoy yourself with the handsome man. What’s the worst that could happen?

You stifled a chuckle careful not to feed into his ego, “Right. So, where are we going Mr. Seresin?”

“It’s a surprise sweetheart.” He walked slightly ahead of you, beating you to the car. You bit your lip stopping the smile that inevitably spread across your face when he opened the car door for you.

“A surprise hmm?”

He nodded grinning from ear to ear, “Penny told me just how much you love them.” He emphasized.

Crinkling your nose you tuned to him, “You talked to Penny?”

He motioned for you to buckle in, not daring to move until you were secured. You obliged before he continued, “Thank you. And yes, I talked to Penny.”

You rubbed the back of your hand, “Why?”

Eyes sparkling at your confusion he couldn’t help but to chuckle at it, “I couldn’t go into a date with a pretty girl without knowing something about her.”

“Oh.” You answered quickly. Throwing your head back against the head rest lightly. How were you supposed to continue the conversation?

Smirking he squeezed your hand, dropping it all too quickly. He fired up the truck and started driving before continuing, “So, heard you’re an engineer.”

You hummed in conformation feeling suddenly so self-conscious in front of him. He was beautiful, really beautiful. His green eyes kept growing on you, constantly swimming in emotion. Every time he smiled there were those cute dimples that you always wanted to see. So far so good, he opened the car door for you and all, your fiancé never did that for you.

“What kind?” He wanted more, he needed to know more about you. You were a closed book, hardly giving any information other than the big details.

“I used to work at a plant, in manufacturing. Made vehicles. The days went by quickly and I enjoyed it. I got a new job in quality though that’s completely online. It let me come out here.”

“You’re smart.” He clicked his tongue trying to subtly complement you. He noticed you’re aversion to attention, the way you shied away from it. You didn’t like the overt attention he loved to give. He’d tone it down for you, make you comfortable.

“Sure... uh thanks.” A flush crept down your neck, why couldn’t you just act normal around him? You really never had this problem with Aaron. This was all brand new territory for you.

“Anytime beautiful.” He flashed you that beautiful smile you already craved from him. He paused the conversation focusing on getting to where he had planned.

“I think you’d have to be pretty damn brave to be a pilot.” You continued, wanting to hear his voice. Slowly falling for that southern accent.

His lips twitched forming that signature Jake smile, “Or stupid.”

“Or stupid.” You cracked up next to him, “Fearless.” You breathed out looking towards him. His eyes softened looking at you, not having much time to take you in before turning back towards to road. He grabbed your hand instead.

You were more than thrilled he was holding your hand so gingerly. He drew circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. The chills that were sent up your arm were inevitable, “Foolish.” He countered.

Shaking your head you admired his side profile, handsome, so handsome, “I thought you were supposed to be the cocky one.” You countered, almost begging to see the side of him.

He briefly looking over to you, seeing the amusement in your eyes, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” He grinned to himself. You really were beautiful. He felt lucky to be taking you out on this date. He didn’t know what you triggered in him, but it was something.

You paused admiring the view outside. The two of you were riding along the Californian coast, it sure was beautiful out here.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He questioned seeing you seemingly deep in thought sat across the vehicle.

You turned back to him gleaming, nature recharged you, “It’s just so beautiful. I feel lucky to be here is all.” You admitted, did he know you were talking more than just about the coastline?

He nodded in understanding, “It sure is.”

The rest of the ride the two of you sat in relative silence, picking up conversation every now and then. You pulled into the San Diego Aquarium. Your eyes lit up realizing just how much your aunt divulged to him. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Aunt Penny set you up for success.” You squeezed his arm, feeling a surge of confidence.

He looked down you sweetly, loving the reaction this was getting from you, “Since I’m making you miss your favorite shows, I thought we’d come see the real thing.”

You nodded in approval, “This is cool. Thank you Jake!” You gave him a quick hug. You didn’t see the small frown when you pulled apart from him. The frown was quickly replaced by a grin as you grabbed his hand high-tailing it for the entrance.

“I didn’t realize you liked sharks so much Y/N.”

You grinned sheepishly, feeling your ears burn warmly. Hopefully the blush would just stay there and not spread to your face, “Did you know, the whale shark is the largest shark in the world? That we know of. 46 feet!” You gushed.

“I did not.” He laughed seeing the pure bliss in your expression, pulling him along into the building. You wasted no time

“My favorite is the tiger shark.” You mumbled dropping his hand when you got to the counter. That self-consciousness was creeping back up on you.

“Oh yeah?” He entertained you. Clearly, he could see how much you adored sharks, so you wanted to know more, “Why’s that?”

You perked right back up, he was seemingly interested, “They look like swimming tigers!” You grinned, “They have the coolest stripes. I don’t this aquarium will have them, they’re not from around here but they really are the coolest.” You rambled on.

This time he took your hand after you were admitted to the aquarium. You let him, of course, “Want to go see some sharks?” He asked peaking his eyebrows up curiously.

“Yes please!” It took everything in you to walk normally to the exhibit, all you wanted to do was skip your way over there. You really did feel like a little kid in a big candy shop.

Your eyes couldn’t help but to light up when you got to the exhibit, “Look! A hammerhead.” You pulled him close to the glass pointing the gentle giant out, “Did you know they’re immune to stingray barbs?”

He grinned looking down at you just from seeing the sheer joy on your face, “You have a fun fact for every shark?”

“I might.” You turned away from him hiding the blush that was setting in.

He chuckled leaning into you ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered feeling his body heat next to you. What was it with him? Why did he put you under such a spell? The scent of his cologne was almost enough to make you want to jump on top of him, right then and there, “It’s cute.”

“Sure.” You mumbled feeling the embarrassment consuming you whole. You turned your face completely back to the exhibit, as far away from him as you could.

Jake could see you close off again. That small glimpse of you, your unadulterated joy, was exactly what he was searching for. He had a feeling you were likely teased because you loved sharks as much as you did with the way you tried to shut him out so quickly. He wouldn’t have that, couldn’t have that. Feeling like he needed to do something to show you that he was genuinely interested he shifted himself to stand right behind you. Slowly, he wrapped his hands around your torso. He leaned down to speak to you, “Is this alright?” He asked first before continuing.

You nodded not being able to find the words to answer him. He quite literally rendered you speechless. Having him this close to you was sending you mind into a panic. He was nearly on top of you, pressing himself lightly into you as he held you from behind in his arms. He smelled so damn good too. You couldn’t get enough of whatever warm and spicy cologne with a hint of vanilla that he had on, “I’m not joking Y/N. It’s adorable how much you know about sharks.” He whispered into your ear sending a violent chill down your body. He knew what he was doing, there was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to you.

Nodding your head again you bought yourself another few seconds to respond, “They’re fascinating fish.”

“They’re fish?” He sounded genuinely surprised, still so close to you. The pair of you probably looked much closer than you actually were. Jake was bold wrapping you in his arms like so. You adored it though. You weren’t the biggest physical touch person previously but there was something that was so comfortable about him. You didn’t mind holding his hand, you wanted it. You certainly didn’t mind having him hold you so closely, being sucked in by him.

“They are! They’re special though.” You turned your body around breaking the hold he had you in. He didn’t step away from you. Instead, he placed his hands around you on the handrail, your back brushing up against it. Holy shit, you hadn’t thought this one through. You were chest to chest with Jake, heart beating rather erratically.

“Why are they special?” He looked right at you, forcing you to focus back onto the conversation.

“Right, uhm.” You took a pause collecting yourself, “They don’t have bones. Just cartilage.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed feeling terribly overwhelmed. You were sure your brain was going to short circuit if he didn’t step away from you soon, “Pretty cool right?” You managed to squeak out, voice getting a bit higher as you spoke.

He could see your interest in the situation changing to being curious to overwhelmed by his proximity so he backed off as subtly as he could. Pointing to another shark to distract you he continued, dropping his hand from the railing so you could breathe, “What��s that one?”

You thanked your lucky stars that he picked up on your complete inability to form a coherent sentence when he stood that damn close to you. What was wrong with you? Was this what being interested in somebody was supposed to feel like? To feel so incredibly flustered that a conversation can’t even be held? You certainly hoped not. It would be nice to hold a conversation with the handsome man at some point.

You looked to where he was pointing, “Oh! That’s a baby Lemon Shark.” Gushing, you turned to see him watching you instead of the shark. Jake was enamored with you. How could you do this to him so quickly? He knew how quickly he was in trouble seeing you so expressive about something everybody thought of as so common. He watched you point to the different sharks spouting off all kinds of different facts about them, finding it so endearing you cared to learn so much.

“Can I ask you something?” He stopped as you started talking about how much Great White Sharks can weigh.

You stopped your rambling giving him the go ahead, “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you do something with sharks as a career? You clearly have a lot of love for them. I’m sure you care about other sea life as well.” He asked genuinely curiosity, wanting to know you.

You sighed not loving how you missed your chance from an early age to do something in the field instead of the engineering work you were doing now, “My dad is all about practicality. He always talked about how being an engineer gave him a good stable life and being a marine biologist make life tough. It was like that my whole life. I guess after hearing it for eighteen years you make the choice to become an engineer instead.” You admitted to him, probably the most information you have divulged to him yet. No, definitely the most.

He nodded reaching for your hand again. Placing your hand in his he spoke up, “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

“I wish I would’ve followed my own path, not my dad’s.” You paused wondering if you should continue. With the intensity he was looking at you with you decided to just let it all out, “I don’t hate being an engineer. I just… I don’t love it. It’s hard to go and do something every day that I could really care less about.”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly, “That’s why I’m a pilot.”

“I admire that.” You spoke quickly, the word vomit flying out of your mouth. You decided to clarify before he could make a silly comment, “I admire that you did what you wanted to do from an early age. You didn’t let your family convince you not to do something because of money.”

Squeezing your hand, he led you deeper into the exhibit. Finally, he was getting somewhere with you, “Well thank you darling. But I must admit, nobody was going to stop me. My parents gave up trying to tell me what to do once I got into high school.”

You giggled. This didn’t surprise you. Jake was so sure of himself, he oozed confidence. Not cockiness, just confidence. A trait that you wished you could fix in yourself.

“That’s part of the admiration. You wore them down instead of letting them wear you down.”

He looked at you with adoration in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen from your loving fiancé, “Thank you Y/N, really.”

“Anytime.” You let him lead you throughout the exhibit. You felt more comfortable the longer you were around him, opening up even more as he asked you questions. You felt all the worries of earlier start to slip away from the forefront of your mind. He certainly wasn’t the asshole Pete was describing earlier. He was the guy you spent three hours chatting with on the beach. He was so attentive and kind to you, you couldn’t possibly imagine him as Hangman. It was almost like they were two different people.

“It takes a lot to admit that.” He continued the conversation seeing as you were lost in your own head, he had to bring you back to reality.

Your shoulders deflated slightly, “I realized it my first year in a manufacturing plant. Not exactly my passion.”

“There’s plenty of time to change what you want to do.”

You looked at him incredulously, “Sure there is.”

“There is!” He stopped walking pulling you close to him again, “Don’t let time stop you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek you turned away from him. Sure, you were still young but what you wanted to do was something so dramatically different than what you were currently doing, it seemed impossible, “I’ll think about it.” You hummed knowing he wasn’t going to drop the conversation. So, you needed to end it.

“Good.” He grinned continuing the walk, “Everyone deserves to be happy. Especially the beautiful woman standing next to me.”

“Shush.” Your face flushed almost immediately after that comment.

“Never. In fact, I’m going to compliment you so much you won’t know what to do with yourself.” He stood proudly. Jake noticed quickly you weren’t good at receiving compliments. You either turned away or told him to shut up. His gut was telling him you weren’t used to receiving them all too often, having a defense mechanism ready to go. It hurt him knowing you were engaged to somebody who didn’t compliment you, such a simple thing. Jake had a hard time understanding men who would get into relationships just to bring down the woman with them. He wanted to be in a relationship with somebody he couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to shower somebody special in compliments all the time, he craved it. He just hadn’t found the right woman yet to share that with.

“That’s unnecessary.” You countered. Jake was right of course. You were tragic at receiving compliments.

“I disagree. Compliments are very necessary.”

“Are they?” You spun around from the spot you stopped to watch eyeing him.

“They are Y/N.” He returned the stare you were giving him, giving you a goofy look.

You smiled seeing how he eases any conversation, “Alright Jake. I’ll let you have this one.”

“Like I said, smart.” He winked lightning the mood a tad.

Shaking your head, you attempted to hide the stupid grin that was threatening to take over your face. There was something so special about him, you really couldn’t get enough of it, “Ha Ha. You’re funny.”

“Thank you Y/N.” He took a rather dramatic bow forcing a giggle to escape from your mouth, “And that is how you take a compliment my dear.”

“Noted Jake.” You let the stupid grin spread. He made you happy and you wanted to show him that. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled this much. You were quickly realizing just how wrong Aaron was for you when Jake made you feel all of these things. These weird, wonderful feelings.

“Okay, my turn.” He grabbed both your hands smiling at you brightly, “You’re beautiful Y/N. Really beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.”

Your heart immediately sped up at the compliment. Your lips parted slightly thinking of your next move. You’d normally brush it off, but he was trying. He was being so sincere you weren’t sure if you could handle the sweetness oozing off him, “Really?” Was all you could come up with. It was better than running away from it though.

“Really.” He squeezed your hands giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Thank you.” Speaking quietly your eyes looked down, not being able to look him in the eyes.

“That’s a start.” He looked at you with such fondness in his eyes. He was a soft one you concluded. Very confident but soft. He wasn’t afraid to show you his emotions. He was so unafraid he would rather make a fool out of himself to make you more comfortable.

The two of you spent the next few hours talking about anything and everything, the conversation often led back to sharks. You didn’t realize just how long you’ve been with him, the intercom let the guests know that the aquarium would be closing shortly, five PM already?

“Shall we?” He asked pointing towards the exit.

“We shall.” You nodded eyeing the sharks a few more times. You learned that it was a catch and release program that the aquarium was involved in. The aquarium would rehabilitate any hurt sharks before sending them back out into the wild. Giving you even more resolve to come and spend time here in the future.

He walked you up to Penny’s door hearing the TV going off from behind it. You stifled a giggle hearing a shark show was playing, you were going to make them big fans before long, “I had a great day, Jake”

The softness came back out, seeing his eyes down turning just a bit, “I did too, a really great day.”

All your fear seemed to vanish, he wanted it too. He didn’t seem like somebody who was simply playing with your emotions. He seemed genuine, “Want to do it again sometime? Maybe somewhere else?”

“Absolutely.” He took a step closer to you, “Can I ask you one more question before I go?”

“Shoot.” You whispered bridging the gap between the pair of you, leaving hardly any space.

“What’s your opinion on kissing on the first date?” He whispered just so you could hear it, not wanting your family on the other side of the door to hear what was going on.

Your damn heart picked up the pace again. You weren’t sure how the date was going to end but Jake’s bold moves gave you a little confidence, “I think great dates should.”

“Yeah? Was it a great date?” His eyes softened a little more completely eliminating any sense of space between the pair.

You nodded biting your lip, now or never, “It was a very great date.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. Gently, Jake placed his hands on either side of your face. He pressed his lips to yours actually short circuiting your brain this time. You kissed him back eagerly sending a smile right to his face. The kiss you shared was moving towards a full on make-out if one of you didn’t break away. You didn’t want to break away. It all felt so comfortable with him.

He decided throwing you against the outside of the house was not in his best interest albeit he wanted to. He wanted to do a lot more with you but knew he’d have to take it slow. For both of you. So, he pulled away before it got all too steamy. Cracking a smile when he saw disappointed look on your face.

Still with his hands cupping your face he continued, “Have a good night Y/N. Go learn more about sharks so you can educate me next time.” He quickly pecked your lips before dropping his hands.

“Yes sir.” You winked back to him feeling a random surge of confidence. What you didn’t know where the unholy thoughts he was thinking when you spoke to him like that. He really needed to leave before he tried something else.

You waved as he walked back to his car, admiring the view as he left. You walked into the house with three pairs of eyes trained right on you, “How’d it go?!” Amelia asked jumping up from her spot on the couch.

“Really good. Like really good.” You admitted feeling a bit frazzled from the kiss.

“Hangman’s in trouble.” Pete chimed in with a cheery voice. Penny pinched him. Pete really loved to speak out of turn.

“What he meant to say is, we’re happy for you.” Penny smiled from her spot on the couch.

“Did you kiss?” Amelia clapped running up to you, wanting to know every detail.

“Maybe.” You admitted. She squealed continuing to clap her hands. Sending you into a fit of laughter you joined in on your cousin’s happiness. The two of you began to happy dance around the bottom floor of the house.

What you didn’t know was that Jake waited for a moment to make sure you were in the house. He also heard the happy cries and saw you and Amelia jumping around the bottom floor. Shaking his head, he smiled ear to ear. Yup, he was a goner.

Part 2

Tag list: @pono-pura-vida

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makethatelevenrings · 28 days

Text

Angel by the Wing - Thirty-One

A/N: no this isn't an April Fool's prank lol. I take the LSAT in 10 days and I want to throw up!!! :)))))

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

Chapter Warnings: emotional abuse (we find out why Angel is Like That)

“It’s not great,” Penny admitted.

“But it’s not horrible either,” you pointed out. The two of you sat at one of the rustic wooden picnic tables outside the bar. A plate of fries sat untouched between you as you looked over the quarterly profit margin. Everything was down and your sales were drastically decreasing from last year.

“Even if you and I took on more shifts, we’d be screwing over the others by cutting their hours. It’s a no-win situation,” she sighed. The bar was losing money and you could see it was starting to take a toll on her. This was supposed to be one of the busier seasons thanks to the warm weather and the proximity to the beach, but aside from a random tourist here and there, you rarely saw anyone other than military personnel come by and it was hurting your profits.

“We could raise the price of food? Or decrease the menu,” you mused. “Less options means less cost for products.”

“Just keep appetizers and stuff. Maybe let go of one of the cooks.” You could tell she didn’t want to relieve anyone, but you were going to have to if the numbers kept getting smaller. Penny stared at the pages spread out between you two in hopes that they would magically change. She looked out onto the ocean and pursed her lips in contemplation.

“This place is one of the longest standing Navy bars in the whole city,” she said quietly. “And everyone is going to know me as the woman who couldn’t keep it open.”

“Hey, no.” You covered her hand with your own. “First of all, you are not the one to blame when people aren’t coming. We’ll figure out why traffic is falling. Second of all, you are not going to sit here and shit on yourself. That is not the Penny Benjamin I know. We will figure this out, Pen. I promise.”

Her lips quirked up into a small smile and she squeezed your hand. “I knew I hired you for a reason.”

“My amazing personality and brilliant mind?”

“Actually it was the fact that you told Hangman to fuck off instead of sleeping with him.”

“But I did sleep with him.”

“After you told him to fuck off, though.”

You opened your mouth to retort but your phone, seated on the table in front of you, began to sound. Noticing who it was, you ignored it without a second thought. You let the phone ring until it went to voicemail, ignoring Penny’s pointed look. A two-word text flashed across your screen and you read it with a creeping sense of dread filling your gut.

“Who was that?” Penny asked.

“Hmm? Oh, just a spam call, I think.”

She shot you a warning glare but you didn’t have it in you to fight today. You also didn’t want to burden her with more of your problems.

“I have to go pick up Amelia from school but hey, we weren’t going to figure this out in one day.”

“And we will figure it out, Pen. I promise.”

The older woman flashed you a sad smile and sighed. “I hope so, kid. Have a good night off.” The two of you gathered up all the papers and Penny stuffed them back into the binder she had brought with her.

You waited until her car pulled out of the lot before you picked your phone up again and studied the text. Might as well get it over with now.

She picked up on the third ring and you braced yourself. “Hi mom.”

“Janie Sue from church was in San Diego visiting her nephew and guess what she saw?” Her tone was bored, but you sensed the anger underlying her words.

“The USS Midway museum?” you offered up.

“She saw you bartending at some rundown Navy bar and said you were hanging all over two men the whole night.”

“And no one is questioning why Janie Sue was at a bar with her underage nephew and her alcoholic husband?”

Your full name met your ears with a blistering crack and heat spread across your cheeks as the brunt of her anger flooded through the phone. “I figured your little voicemail was your idea of a prank, but now I know for a fact that you have wasted every opportunity your father and I gave you to end up as a whore.”

“Mom, it’s not like tha-”

“It is exactly like that! You are brilliant. You had so much going for you. And now you’re knocked up like some two-bit prostitute who spread her legs for any sailor who tipped you well.”

Shame and rage pooled in your chest and pressure built in your eyes. You bowed your head and shielded your face in case anyone who would recognize you walked by.

“Mom, I’m happy,” you interjected with a shaky voice.

“You don’t sound very happy! You could have been anything you ever wanted to be and this is what you chose? If they’re so willing to share you, do you really think those two boys give a shit about you? How many girls are they sleeping with when you’re not around?”

“Mom, they’re not like that! Seriously, they are good men.”

“Oh, that’s what they all say. He’s different, he’s special,” she mocked. “Do you hear yourself right now? It’s pathetic. Honey, your father and I can come and get you. You can move back in with us and we’ll support you and the baby until you can get back on your feet.”

“No, I don’t need you to come get me. San Diego is my home. I have a life here. I have my life here. I’m not leaving.”

Your mother let out a deep, heavy sigh laced with frustration. “If you keep going down this path of wrong choices, one of these days you’ll learn to regret it. We’ll be here when you realize how much of your life you’ve wasted trying to prove a point to me.”

“Why didn’t you call when I first told you?” You finally spit out the question that had been eating at you since you saw her initial call. “Why now? Is it because others know and are talking about it? You just can’t be anything but the way you want people to view you, can you?”

Tears were dripping down your cheeks and mingling with the disgusting, snotty sob that rose in your chest. Your mother let out a bitter laugh.

“And this is always how it goes. Now you’re going to be mean to me in some attempt to make yourself feel superior. You don’t know everything so stop acting like you do. Now, I’m going to hang up before you start yelling at me. Stop being so dramatic, honey. You chose this life.”

The line went dead and you had the urge to launch your phone into the ocean. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Double triple flying fuck.

You swiped at the tears that dripped down your cheeks with the back of your hand and clambored off of the bench before anyone saw you. Jake was visiting his mom and Bradley had flown back to Virginia two days ago and was currently on a road trip back to San Diego. He kept sending selfies to the group chat the three of you shared. You were saving all of them.

Good. That would give you privacy to sob all the bullshit out without anyone worrying.

You knew she wasn’t right. You knew this. But at the same time, years of her words crowded your mind and consumed your body. Was she right? There was nothing special about you. Were the boys staying simply because you were knocked up? Your body went cold at the thought of that and you wrapped your arms around your stomach, guarding it from the world.

Fuck it. Fuck it all. If that was true, then you would figure it out all by yourself, just like you had your entire life.

You approached your clunky old car and fumbled for the key, your hands trembling as you tried to unlock it. Just as you slipped the key into the lock, a soft sound caught your attention. You paused and waited, but didn’t hear anything else. Opening the door, you prepared to slide in when there was that damn sound again.

You kneeled down and came face to face with the sad, pitiful eyes of a cat that had clearly seen better days. It let out another weak cry and you felt tears well up in your eyes again.

“Oh my god,” you whispered aloud at the pervasive nature of your hormones. The cat blinked up at you and slowly slunk forward. It investigated your outstretched hand and then gently twisted its head to rest in your palm, begging for any kind of attention.

There was no fucking way you were leaving this little baby all alone in the parking lot.

That’s how you ended up stumbling into the townhome with sticky tear tracks on your cheeks and a scruffy, malnourished cat curled up in your arms. You had sent a text to Sofia when you were at a red light because you knew she grew up with all sorts of animals and the Trace household had three cats. She would know what to do.

“Baby?” Jake called when you tumbled through the front door. You froze, not expecting him to be home. He was supposed to be at his mom’s.

As if summoned, Jennifer and Jake appeared around the doorway to the kitchen and found you looking like an absolute mess. Your clothes were rumpled, your makeup was destroyed, and a clearly malnourished and homeless cat meowed pathetically from your arms.

“I didn’t…” you stammered out. “I couldn’t just leave him there. A car could have hit him or a dog could have attacked him o-or…” Tears welled up in your eyes again and you hugged the cat a little closer to your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you said in a quiet voice that was so unlike yourself. “But I couldn’t just leave him.”

Jake moved past his mother and approached you. He wiped some of the tears off of your cheeks and then studied the cat in your arms. “We can’t keep him, baby.”

“I know,” you hiccupped out a little whimper. “Sofia gave me the info for her vet and I set up an appointment for tomorrow morning. Can he please just stay the night?”

Jennifer watched her son with a close eye. Jake was a dog person through and through. She remembered how he would beg her for a dog every Christmas and every birthday, but she could never deliver. He always said cats were too aloof, too mean, not cuddly enough, and more. He was a clean person who loved order in his home.

But one look at the tears in your eyes had Jake Seresin caving.

“He can stay the night,” Jake conceded.

A brilliant smile lit up your face and you hugged the poor cat even tighter, but the feline didn’t argue. Instead, it tucked its little head under your jaw and started to purr.

“Thank you, Jake. Is now a good time to tell you that Nat and Sofia are already bringing over some stuff for him?”

He rolled his eyes but kissed you on the top of the head. Jake even kept the comments to a minimum when the couple showed up armed with a litter box, fresh litter, food, and a few toys. You cordoned off the laundry room for the cat and started to set up his space when Jake casually moved you out of the room.

“You can’t change litter,” he warned. “Nat just told me.”

“Yeah, I can’t change the litter that he’s used, Einstein,” you retorted but he leveled you with a stern glare and pointed away from the laundry room.

“Out. I’ll call you back when it’s ready.”

You sighed but kissed his cheek in thanks and made your way outside where Sofia and Nat were, luckily not making out, but chatting next to their car. Sofia grinned at the sight of her friend and slung her arm over your shoulders.

“Hangman won’t admit it, but that cat’s staying forever,” Nat said. “Have you texted Bradley yet?”

“Nah, I’m gonna surprise him with Skipper when he comes home.”

“Skipper?” Sofia chuckled. “Oh yeah, he’s definitely staying.”

Jake poked his head out from the front door and Nat pushed away from the car to go chat with him about something. You took that as your chance and burrowed in closer to your best friend’s side.

“What’s up?” Sofia had an incredibly discerning eye and always seemed to know what you were feeling before you did.

“‘S nothing. I, uh, I got the paternity results back.” Sofia was the only one who knew you even got the test done. As a medical receptionist on base, she was the one who helped coordinate your test thanks to the potential fathers being naval officers.

“Hey, whoever it is, the three of you are locked together,” Sofia assured you. You nodded, but your mother’s words ran through your mind over and over again.

Tag List:

@mizzzpink@xoxabs88xox@dreaminglandsworld@khaylin27@loveforaugust@atarmychick007@itsmytimetoodream@krismdavis@emma8895eb@startrekfangirl@hangmandruigandmav@lunamoonbby@sihtricswife@jstarr86@drakelover78@abaker74@emma8895eb@hardballoonlove@nerdgirljen

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #abtw #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #rooster x reader

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years

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Better Man

✦Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 6.7K

✦Warnings: Fluff, Angst, mentions of SA (previous relationship), self-hate, shitty schools, bullying, possible thoughts of suicide (on explicitly stated). Please let me know if I missed something.

✦A/n: Repost, the original is no longer showing up for me. I’m not sure what happened, if your seeing double I apologize.

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

The incessant buzzing coming from your pocket continues, as you listen to Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates go over mission plans. Attentively listening and marking down any changes that need to be made to the paperwork.

As the admirals Administrative Service Manager, you held the responsibility of keeping all things “Top Gun” in order: including incoming pilots, flight schedules, and the newly permanent Dagger Squadron.

You subduedly shift silencing the buzzing, again focusing on Cyclone and Warlock.

“I want a new set of recruits coming in, with Maverick training them.” Cyclone gives you a pointed look. “I want him to be on board by the end of the week. You both, can go over applicates and find those best fitted.”

You silently nodded, jotting down that you need to draft a letter for Mav and get it to him before Wednesday.

“With the success of the Uranium Mission, DC is going to want to see what else the Dagger Squadron can do. I want them flying new drills and layouts every day. Draft up a few different sets of flight plans, get them on my desk by Wednesday morning.”

“Of course, sir. Two days will be more than enough time to draft up three or four, and I will have a handful more done by next Monday.” You trail off as your phone starts buzzing again.

Pausing to grab it while Cyclone and Warlock keep chatting, you realize that it’s Mathews school calling. Raising your hand in a silent gesture, you glance up and ask if you can be excused for a moment. To which Cyclone nods, signaling to the hallway.

Rising up, you not so slowly, make your way to the door and press answer. Miss Clarks voice rings through your phone, telling you once again that Mathew has been called to the office.

“Miss Benjamin, you need to come in. Principle Davis wants to talk to you immediately. Mathew is fine, though he has been placed in the corner and will not be allowed recess time.” She mutters harshly.

You slowly shake your head and lean up against the wall, “What happened?” you question. Waiting for a response that doesn’t come. “I know that Mathew is not the only child at fault here. So, I’m going to ask again, what happened?”

You know that your sweet Mathew would never hurt someone without probably cause, and even then, it’s unlikely. Though this is the first call you’ve received from the school, you’ve been in three other times for words with the principal. Discussing another upper-class student that had been picking on Mathew.

The same excuse being thrown in your face that, none of the teachers saw the bullying and that Mathew was lying. Though the last time, Mathew told you that the other boy had pushed him and scrapped his knees. Markings on his knees, you saw during bath time, that night confirmed that he had been pushed.

Each visit you had, the school ignored you and claimed you to be an overprotective mother.

“Mathew hit another boy, Miss Benjamin.”

The statement shocks you at first, but then you question why Mathew hit him.

“Well Mathew says that he was hit first, but no one saw it.”

“You’re telling me, that my son was hit, then defended himself, and you didn’t think to lead the conversation with that information.”

Pushing off the wall you start to make your way to your office. “I will be there in 20 minutes.” Grabbing your purse, leaving the paperwork knowing that you will be coming back to the office enviably.

“Also, Miss Clark,” your voice steadily rises. “Get my child out of the damn corner.” You all but yell before hanging up on the woman.

Stepping out of your office and running into Lt. Bradshaw, you bounce off him. He grabs your arms steadying you, as you apologize.

“You okay there, Y/N” He questions quickly realizing how stressed you are.

You can feel the frustration seeping from your bones, tears lining your eyes. Working to steady your breathing, in any possible way to avoid crying.

A quick smile, that is in no way real, paints your lips, “Yes Bradley, I just need to go the Maty’s school.” Checking your purse, you make sure that you have your keys. “Can you do me a favor though?” Glancing up you see him intently listening, as if they would be orders from Commander Kazansky himself.

“I’m bringing Maty back here, I’ve got paperwork to finish, but I need someone to watch the munchkin.”

You pick at your nails, hating that you would have to ask for help. Though Amelia is still in class and Penny was deep cleaning the Hard Deck, so you had no one to ask.

“I know you guys are probably really busy, but could he hang out with you and Jake for a bit. He loves Uncle Roos, and I think that after today, getting to see the planes would cheer him up.” You add quietly that you understand if not, that you would figure it out.

“Y/N/N of course, I’m always available to hang with the little man. I’m free for the rest of the day actual.” He looks down sheepishly, “I was coming to tell you that a few of the plane’s radars were messing up, and that we would be down for a couple days.”

Taking a deep breathe, adding one more thing to your to-do list. You know that plane electronics can’t be helped, and that it should be a relatively easy fix. It just feels like so much more, added to your near melting brain.

You tell him that you’ll handle it, while walking together towards Cyclones office. Stepping in to get the two admirals’ attention, you let them know that you are taking your lunch now and will be back before one. They assure you that you are fine and that they trust you to get your job done, without them hounding on you.

Going to leave, Bradley follows you out. You head for your car, while he heads towards the east hanger. Though before he gets too far you, call back to him.

“B… Don’t tell Jake I was crying. Please… I don’t want to bother him.” You hold your hand up, blocking the glare of the sun on your face. “It was silly of me to cry anyway.”

The look he gives you clearly shows that he wants to comment on you saying that your emotions are silly, but he just nods an okay.

“Thanks B.” Thankful that he understands, you turn as he waves goodbye. Climbing in your car, for the 15-minute drive to Mathew’s school that will inevitably end in tears and a migraine.

Pulling up to the school, you wipe at your eyes. Trying to get the redness to go away, or at least look like you haven’t spent the last 15 minutes anger crying. The puffiness of your cheeks is a dead given away that something is wrong, though you hope that its subtle enough that Mathew won’t notice.

Your sweet baby was the most empathic and observant child you had even seen. A blessing and a curse to you both. In one way he was kind and loving and yet in another, much less helpful way, he noticed when anything hurt or upset you. Slowly becoming the protector of his momma, and carrying a load on his shoulders far heavier than any five-year-old should.

He was the light of your life and the only good thing that your ex gave you. Though you’d taken to claiming that your ex had no part in making Mathew. He was too kind to have any part of your ex in his DNA.

You were just thankful that he was the spitting image of you, and hadn’t been around his “father” long enough to pick up any traits. With your Y/H/C and the exact shade of skin tone, there was no denying he was your mini-me.

His eyes though, oddly enough were the exact same shade of green as Jakes. Something that everyone in your life liked to point out. Often making comments, that if they hadn’t known you like they did, “They would assume that Jake was the father.”

A thought that you wished had been true. Jake was wonderful with Mathew, and an amazing role model for him. Though you had only been official together for five months, Jake was always working to show you how much you both meant to him.

That alone was a hard enough concept to understand, when the only relationship you’d ever been in was the complete opposite.

Your ex-Adam had ruined your views on relationships, the five years you were together were some of the hardest you’d ever been through. Finally getting out just before Mathew turned three.

Adam had gotten handsy with you in front of Mathew, had pushed you to your breaking point and left you on the floor like an empty husk.

You still hate yourself for that night, because of you Mathew was in therapy once a week with nightmares. Recounting memories, that a then 2-and-a-half-year-old, shouldn’t remember.

It was your biggest regret, letting him see everything that happened.

The experience wasn’t something you talked about, finding that therapy only made it worse. Pushing the memories away and burying it in a hidden chest, at the back of your mind.

Gathering your purse, you move to get out of the car.

When you notice a missed call and text from Jake, “Hey darlin’ missing you. Rooster said you were picking up Maty early, everything okay?”

You quickly type back, that you just got to the school and would text him when you were back on base. Adding that you missed him as well, which caused a small smile to cross your lips.

Walking into the front doors, you immediately head to the office. Giving yourself a mini pep-talk in preparation for Principal Davis, and his ever-sexist comments.

Your eyes immediately go to Miss. Clark, who wears the lowest cut shirt that you’ve ever seen in an elementary school. Her head pops up from typing, as she hears the low click of your heels on the tile.

Your gaze is cast upon her, one that should put her 6-feet under.

“Where is Mathew?” You question, a harsh bite in your tone.

To which she studders out that they placed him in an extra room and told him to stay. The action should surprise you, but you’ve learned that this school clearly has lower morals and standards.

You walk straight passed her desk, without another word and push into the extra room. If it could even be called that, only the size of a “oversized” closet at best. The temperature change doesn’t go unnoticed.

There you see Maty, head resting on a table, as tiny shudders rack through his body. Rushing to his side, you softly go to cradle his small body. Falling to the floor on your knees, as a soft Momma falls from his lips.

Gently “shh”ing and rocking his body back and forth, like you did when he was a baby. As he quiets down you look into his tear-stained face, and your heart breaks a bit more.

“Sweet bubba, it’s okay. I got you, it’s okay.” His tears slowly turn into gentle whimpers.

Not wanting to upset him anymore, but knowing that you have to ask him questions before you see Davis.

“Darling, what happened? Are you hurt?” your eyes gently rank over his form, noticing how he hold his tummy.

“They belly flopped me momma.”

Your questioning gaze is enough that Mathew pulls up his shirt and you see a bright red mark across his belly. Anger seeps from you and your struggle to hid it behind a smile. Not wanting him to see how upset you are.

Rising up you grab his backpack and carry Mathew out into the main office.

Your voice snaps across the office, stilling Miss Clarks typing fingers.

“Miss Clark, I am going to be checking Mathew out. I am also going to have a few words with Principal Davis, and I suggest you take Mathew out into the hallway to look at the new mural being painted.” Your tone leaves no room for suggestion.

You set Maty down and give him a little wink, pushing him to hallway as Miss Clark follows. You turn sharply and stare straight at the closed door that hasn’t moved once since you’d arrived. Pacing to the door you knock and walk in without waiting for an answer. If he wants to lack human decency with your child, then you can do the same.

Your sudden entrance startles the middle-aged man, jolting him from his chair and the nap he seemed to be taking.

His lingering eyes rake up and down your form, as a sleazy smile forms on his face. The look makes you shudder, awaking distant memories and feelings.

He gets up to make a move for you, “Miss Benjamin, I’m glad you could make it. Please sit.”

You state that you’d rather stand, though he doesn’t listen and makes a motion for you. His hand moves to your lower back, in an unwelcomed gesture. Brushing his hand off, you glare at the hand.

“You see Miss Benjamin, Mathew is a troubled boy and needs handled.”

The word “handled” makes your skin crawl as you listen.

“He doesn’t listen and clearly has no male role model, from the ringless finger I can see.” You bite your tongue as he moves to sit on his desk, directly in front of you.

“Now I think that we,” he motions to the both of you, “can work on this. Fix his attitude and make him into a child, someone would actually want. One that not picking fights for attention, especially ones with older children he can’t beat.” He finishes with a chuckle.

The steam must be rising from you, the anger that is completely incasing your body feels like you might set the whole world on fire.

As you rise from your chair, words laced with venom drip from your tongue ready to kill, meteorically and literally.

“You have no right to comment on my child and how he is raised. I think it best if you step off your damn high horse, before I knock you off it.” Your finger jabs at his chest. “You should be damn happy I’m not reporting you to the school board, for neglect and harassment.”

You stand up, ready to be out of his presence.

“Mathew will be pulled from the school; I’m absolutely done with you and everyone in this school.” Pulling the door open you look back at him, “If anything comes from the assault done to my son’s stomach, whether it be lasting pain or marks….. I will, fucking ruin you.”

With that you leave, shaking at the audacity of the man. How he touched you, insinuated that Mathew needed fixed, and most of all the absolute lack of care, that he should have had for both children in the situation.

The other child that Mathew hit was nowhere in sight and clearly didn’t get in trouble. You know that hitting isn’t the answer, but Mathew was defending himself against a bigger child. This whole situation was handled poorly, as it has been every other time you’ve came in for bullying. This was the final straw and you’re done.

You gasp as you make your way to grab Mathew from Miss Clark, barely able to keep the tears at bay. Gently buckling Maty up into his car seat, you place a kiss on his forehead as he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“Don’t be sad momma.”

You mutter an I love you and climb back into your seat, ready to never see that school again.

Your tears don’t go unnoticed by the three men as you pull back up to your office. Jake, Robert, and Bradley all exchange looks as you park and get out of the car. You avoid their gazes as you get Mathew out of the car.

“Uncle Roo, can we look at the planes?” Mathew yells to the men as he notices them, a massive smile forming, and his horrible day forgotten.

“Yeah buddy, all the planes. Bob even said he’d let you be Nat’s new WSO.” Bradley laughs and then gives a knowing look to Jake.

“Your Momma and Jake are gonna go pack up her work for the day, then get you a bag ready to have a sleep over with me.”

You go to comment, but Jake steps forward. Wrapping his arm around your waist, “Cyclone already knows darlin’. You and me are gonna work on flight plans at home, then have a nice relaxing night.” He finishes with a loving kiss on your cheek, that you can’t help but to lean into.

Your body relaxes in his embrace, dropping your shoulders you lean father into his touch. Craving it like a warm blanket, that you unwillingly want to admit, you need.

Mathew is bouncing at the thought of a sleepover and asks Bob if he is coming too, to which he replies of course. The trio goes to turn away, though not before Maty comes rushes back, giving you and Jake hugs.

“Love you momma. Love you Jake.” He says it so childlike that you can’t help, and be a tad envious. Jake quickly lifts Mathew and gives him tickle, telling him to listen to his uncles. Before setting him down and brushing a kiss onto the top of his head.

“I love you too, buddy.”

You watch as Maty walks off, relaxing knowing that he is feeling better and knowing that if he showed the slightest sign of discomfort Bradley would call. You rest your head gently against Jake’s chest, taking a few deep breathes and silently hold yourself together.

His arm slips from your waist, up to cradle the side of your face making you look into his eyes. A green so deep that you could get lost in, if you only let yourself.

“Darlin’”

You quietly shake your head in protest, knowing that it he asks you might break down.

The tears built around the edge of your eyes, and you quickly cast your face down. Unwilling to let him see you break.

To be another hassle in his life.

A mess, that he would realize wasn’t worth the work.

Though he gently kisses your forehead, letting you be for now and pulls you towards the building.

Hands clasped tightly together, like he’s afraid to lose you through the cracks within your broken heart.

Jake stays by your side as you make your way through the building and to your office. Only letting go of your hand, so that you can grab your laptop and paperwork. You slowly pack everything that you need into a tote, your movements lagging.

Feeling completely drained and over the day. You can feel yourself pulling back into a shell, unsure how to function with another person right now.

You weren’t used to people helping when you had a hard day, or break down. Only that you weren’t supposed to show your emotions, because if you did it would end so much worse.

A screaming match, about how inconsiderate it was that you let your mood seep into other people’s lives. That if you could just fucking smile for once, then maybe people would like you.

The thought makes you look to Jake and give him a fake smile, in hopes that he doesn’t realize how much it hurts.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a reassuring kiss on the cheek and takes the tote from you, to carry out to the car.

“Where are your keys darlin’?”

He questions, replying before you can protest.

“I want to drive sweets, okay. I want to take care of you.”

Worry clouds your brain, but you’re too tired to make a fuss.

“Thank you” you say as you place them in his out reached hand.

“Always baby.” He states it so matter a factly that your heart flutters. The wink that follows, makes it skip a beat.

The drive home is fast, your wandering mind lost in thought. Jakes hand rests steady against your thigh, a gently rubbing motion to sooth you.

Walking up into your quaint little beach house, the final bit of anxiety leaves your body. Finding comfort in being home, in your safe space. Jake silently follows you up the steps and locks the door once you’re both inside.

Your body’s frozen; you stand quietly in the hallway, unsure of what to do. Jakes comes up to rest behind you, carefully wrapping you in his arms. Afraid that the slightest touch will send you spiraling.

“Why don’t you go take a nice shower sweets? Relax, decompress and I will make you some tea for after your done.”

You squeeze his hands in a silent thank you and head to the bathroom.

Your face looks tired and broken, and as you stare at your reflection, those tears that you worked so hard to hold in fall. You switch on the shower, to silence the sobs that are wreaking havoc upon your mind and body.

You shed your clothes and step into the burning water, in hopes to erase the feeling of Davis’ hands on you.

Memories of past and present blend together, making it difficult to ground yourself, to know that you’re safe.

Davis’ hand, becomes HIS hands on you. A ringing in your ears echoes a distant memory of the screams that were ripped from your body.

The incident today, shattered your tough girl façade. The box that you worked so hard to bury, ripped up, meant to consume everything in its path.

Both of their hand blending into one, pushing on the small of your back.

Down farther, suffocating and screaming out at the same time.

Your back crashes against the tile walls, as you slip to the floor. Memories flashing through your mind; the way you yelled stop and how you begged Maty to look away. His sweet baby eyes, watching as you were ripped apart.

You should have worked harder to make him stop.

To make sure Mathew couldn’t see or hear.

But you didn’t.

You failed him in that moment

And you hate yourself for it.

A sudden slam jolts you from your thoughts, and a worried Jake is standing there. Infront of the broken in door, chest heaving and wild-eyed. He falls to his knees as a broken sob, escapes your lips.

Climbing into the shower, fully clothed, to hold on to your trembling body. It’s only then that you notice the water is freezing and that you must have lost track of time.

He mutters sweet nothings into your ear, softly creasing your back. He shifts your body momentarily way from his chest, to turn of the stream of cold water. Shifting back, you clutch onto his shirt. Clinging to the warmth that radiates off him, and the feeling of safety that you can always find in his embrace.

Breathing in the familiar smell of jet fuel mixed with sandalwood and black pepper, your mind fights to regain clarity. That you are home, safe in Jakes arms.

Not caring what horrible outcome awaits you once you explain your panic attack.

Once he finally realizes out how damaged you are.

You won’t blame him, if you could get away from yourself you’d run too.

Though, for this moment you need him. To be able to savor this moment and memorize it for once you’ve lost it. Tuck it away deep within your soul, a memory that a one point he loved you.

He’s never said it, but you’d like to think that he does. At least loves the version of you that is still nice and shiny. He couldn’t ever love the one that’s real, broken, and damaged beyond repair. How could anyone love something so pitiful.

Pulling back, the words fall from your mouth before you can even think to stop them.

The harsh truth.

“I wasn’t enough Jake.” A gasp falls from your mouth, more tears crash down your face.

“I should have tried harder. To stop Adam. To protect Maty. To make the school listen.” Your head shakes in silent disappointment in yourself.

“I could have been better, for Maty, for you.”

“But I failed, and I’m just so tired of trying.”

Your head lays resting against Jake’s chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. Trying to slow your gasping breaths. His hand rests on the back of your head, gently rocking the both of you.

“I’m so tired of doing it alone.” You pull away from him, to look in his eyes as you lay the truth of your relationship out.

“But it’s not your job and I can’t push that on you. You shouldn’t have to come in and take care of a child that isn’t yours.”

You can see Jake silently shaking his head, as tears start to fall from his eyes.

“I’m just so angry. At how broken and lonely I feel. How I’ve pushed you away, because I’m scared of losing you.” Words continue to fall from your lips, until Jake gentle grabs your face.

He takes a shuddered breath in, his voice cracking slightly.

“Y/F/N look at me.”

Your tear-stained eye stare at each other, a plea asking you to listen.

The hand cradling your face, settles your trembling lip. His other hand comes up to push your soaked hair out of your face. His body heat warms you, and his eyes show nothing but pure love and heartbreak. Like seeing you in so much pain is slowly breaking his heart too.

Your heart aches as you see the tears streaming down his face, gently you reach a shaking hand up to cup his cheek. His hand rises to cradle the one covering his cheek, both your foreheads fall together.

“Darlin’ let me make one thing clear, you and Mathew are the best damn thing that has ever happen to me. From the moment I met you, before we ever got together, I knew I wanted you.”

His words sound foreign to your ears, and you mind sits telling you that he’s lying. But his eyes, the green that you’re in love with, they hold such truth, and you chose to believe he’s not lying.

“Come on, let get you dressed, and we can talk.” He stands with ease, carrying your form as if you were as light as air. “I think we’re both gonna need that cup of tea to warm up. Unless you wanna share body heat, sweets.”

He gives you a wink and you can’t stop the girlish giggles that abrupt from you. The way that he can brighten your mood with the smallest gestures, still amazes you.

“There’s my girl.”

Dressed in fuzzy socks and one of Jake’s old navy shirts, you curl up on the couch as Jake reheats the water for your tea. He comes around the corner moments later with two cups of tea; chamomile for you, his momma always told him it was calming, and peppermint for him.

It reminded him of Christmas, the one-time when everyone in his family got along. The yearly tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve at mid-night, then having a family dinner Christmas night. A joyous atmosphere filled the house, as his mother baked and sisters hand pick which Christmas records to play.

It was a tradition that he hoped to start with you and Mathew, creating your own rendition of the family Christmas.

The sweatpants hang low on his hips, your eyes roam over his torso slowly. Taking in each hard line and the tan skin, your eyes slowly make it up to his face and a cocky smile rests on his lips.

“Like what you see darlin’”

A blush covers your cheeks as you realize that you’ve been caught, once again.

“You’re just so pretty.” You reply, a matching blush covers his cheeks. Happy that you got the desired reaction out of him.

He settles into the seat beside you, handing you your tea, and brushing a gentle kiss against your brow. He pulls your covered feet to rest in his lap and covers you both up with a blanket.

He gently strokes your calf and takes a sip of tea, before asking you what happened today.

So, you start for the beginning. Telling him about your meeting this morning and how the school called. Relaying to him that they put Mathew in a freezing room and how he was just defending himself.

“It was that 2nd grader, Jake. The one that’s been picking on him, Thomas, Timmy…”

“Toby, Darlin’” Jake answers for you, causing your head to snap up in silent questioning.

“Maty, he brought him up to me the other day. I didn’t mention it, well because” he rubs the back of his neck and looks down sheepishly. “I may have told him… that if Toby touched him, they he was allowed to defend himself.”

A smile graces your face, realizing how much he carries about Mathew.

“Then I showed him how to throw a punch.”

With that a full laugh falls from your lips, surprising Jake completely. He was prepared to get his butt chewed, but here you are in a fit of laughter.

“I’m sorry..” You struggle to catch your breath. “It’s just, I’ve been wanting to knock that second grader on his ass sense he pushed Maty.”

Jake releases a blusterous laugh, shaking his head, and a teasing smile directed at you.

You sink farther into the couch and talk a large sip of your tea. Your body finally relaxing, causing your shoulders to drop and your legs to stretch farther into Jakes lap.

You continue on, telling him how Miss Clark wasn’t helpful and how your pretty positive the Principal Davis was sleeping before you barged into his office.

The pause you take to collect your thoughts and calm your racing mind, doesn’t go unnoticed. Though Jake patiently waits, giving you time, and when you’ve taken a few deep breaths Jake motions you to go on.

Blowing out a puff of air, you calm the rage that slowly rises in you from thinking about Principal Davis.

“He’s just horrible Jake. Every time I’ve came to him about Toby or the other boys, he called me overprotective, and said that Mathew is the child at fault.”

His hand remains on your calf, rubbing. You’re not sure if it’s to sooth you or him.

“Then he stood there and implied that he and I could “work together”” you motion quotations with your hands, “to fix the problem. That he clearly didn’t have a male role model, and my ringless finger was the proving point.”

His hand only stops for a moment when you say ringless, but it’s long enough that you notice his pause.

“The man is so damn aggravating.”

You blow out a breath of air, moving the now partially dry hair that fell across your face. Jake reaches up and moves the strand behind your ear, his hand then falling to cress your cheek before you continue.

“He’s got entitlement issues and has no respect for personal space.” The words rush out of your mouth, before you realize how they might affect Jake.

“The way his hands felt… God, they just made my skin crawl. It was just too much.”

His hand stills on your leg completely and you can feel his body transform; from your soft and gentle Jake to Hangman, the man that had look death in the eyes and laughed.

You look up and his face is void of all emotions, but anger.

“Darlin’ I need you to be very clear with me.” his voice is laced with such venom, that you would be terrified of him, if you couldn’t still see the gentleness in his eyes.

“Are you telling me that Davis touched you?”

You nod, ashamed of the action “He only touched my lower back, and I shouldn’t make it into such a big deal, but it just felt wrong.”

Jake stares back at you with a hardness you’ve never seen.

“Y/N no one is ever, allowed to touch you without your permission. I don’t care what the circumstances are, or what you’ve been told in the past.” He blows out a shuddered breath.

“Baby I am not even allowed to touch you, without your permission.” Both his hands are now holding up your face, making sure you look at him. “Do you understand that?

The tears that fill your eyes are answer enough.

He knew enough of your past, to know what little value you had for yourself.

Jake had woken up with Mathew on nights that he’d spent the night, the young boy crying out after a nightmare. In the beginning Jake just wanted to give you a break and let you sleep, but he soon realized that Maty needed the extra time with him as well. The little boy had opened up to Jake, telling him about his dreams and memories. Explaining that he couldn’t tell momma, because it made you cry.

Those nights lying awake with Mathew, while rubbing his back to sooth him and help him fall asleep, were some of Jakes most treasured moments. The need to take care Maty and be the stable father-figure in his life, continuously grew. To the point that Jake no longer saw a life without you and his little boy.

You didn’t have to explicitly tell Jake what you had went through, he knew enough and if you ever changed your mind, he would listen. Grateful that you wanted to share that part of you, but it wouldn’t be something he pushed.

No, he would just continuously keep working to show you your worth and how much he loved you. He hadn’t told you yet how much he loved you, to afraid to scare you off, but he knew that you were it for him the first time that he met you.

Papers strewn around the floor in your office, while you sat in the middle, contemplating different flight tracks and patterns. You hadn’t realized he’d come into your office, until he made a coughing sound to gain your attention.

You looked at him with such seriousness, mad at him for interrupting your work and when he asked you where the admiral was, you glanced at your watch before muttering “lunch” at him like he was a complete idiot.

He knew then that you were everything that he wanted; dedicated to your work, beautiful, and wouldn’t put up with his shit. Mathew was an added bonus, one that he wouldn’t change for all the money in the world.

“Darlin’, you and Mathew are the most precious and important people in my life. I will do anything and everything to make you realized how loved you are.”

You mouth dropped up, sitting in stunned silence.

“You love me? You love us?”

The look you give him, makes him chuckle and run a hand through his hair.

“Sweets you are one of the smartest women that I’ve ever met, but how in the world have you not seen that I have been, head over heels in love with you, since the first time we met?” His Texas accent rings clear in your ear. Laying on heavy whenever he calls you sweets.

“Jake, the first time we met was three and a half years ago. When I first started working on base?” The questioning tone you reply with is clear as day.

“Yeah, I know.”

“We just started dating 10 months ago though?”

“Yeah, I spent a year and a half trying to take you out.”

A hand comes to rub at the back of his neck, as he looks away shyly in a way you’d never seen. Gone was your cocky, self-assured pilot, in his place, a boy that looked worried about getting the girl in high school.

“You know how much the guys made fun of me? Told me I was whipped, and I didn’t even have the girl yet.”

A blush covers your cheeks, as you realize just how oblivious you’d been. Though you can’t help but smile, your heart filling with hope and possibility.

“You don’t need to say it back..”

You cut him off before he can finish, pulling him down into a kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. You pour all of your pent-up emotions into the kiss, silently trying to communicate how much you love him.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you to settle on his lap. As you pull away his hand settles on your cheek, eyes staring into the abyss that is your soul.

“Jacob Grant Seresin, I love you more than words can equivalate to. You are the man that I’ve wanted my whole, and never thought I was worthy of.”

More tears fall from your eyes, though these are pure happiness.

“Thank you for taking a chance on the mess that I am, and I’m sorry for making you wait for so long.” Your giggle at the end, breaks into full blown laughter as Jake tickles you. Pushing you down onto your back, he peppers kisses across your face.

“You should be darlin’, it was torture.” He gives you one last kiss “I’d do it a thousand time over though, as long as it for you.”

“My mess, my girl.”

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

Later that night:

“Thank you for helping me with the flight plans, I really didn’t need Cyclone on my ass.” You kiss Jakes waiting lips as you climb in bed for the night.

“Course darlin’”

He gently pulls you back to rest against his chest, peppering kisses on the top of your head. You can’t help but to snuggle deeper into him and the blankets.

“Also, I talk to Rooster and he’s going to bring Mathew to base in the morning. I figured he could hang out with the team. Then if you can get off a bit earlier, we could go by the school on base.”

You go to ask what he was up to.

But he quickly answers, “I called Bob’s wife Lacy, she is a teacher at the school, and she said that their kindergarten teacher is amazing. Also, that they would love to have us come by, and see if it was a good fit.”

You can’t help but be amazed. Wondering how you could have been so clueless and not seen the love that this amazing man has for you and Mathew.

“I love you, that sounds perfect. Thank you.”

Jake moves to shut of the bedside lamp, giving you a sweet kiss. Your lips melting together perfectly. You can feel yourself falling into unconsciousness, your body grateful to finally relax and welcomes the darkness.

Though before you can drift out you feel Jake shift around, nuzzling into your neck as his arm wrap securely around your waist. His body heat encompasses you, causes you to relax even more. Soft kisses are placed on your neck, little ones that you can barley feel.

“Darlin’ don’t think that I forgot about that jackass Davis.”

You stiffen up only slightly, though Jake continues his kisses. Falling just at your jaw line, his hands slide under your shirt and cress your stomach. His gentleness reassures you, and you chose to focus his moments more than his words.

“I don’t want you worrying.”

He places a kiss behind your ear,

“I’m just gonna have a talk with him.”

One on your cheek,

“Make sure he knows that you are mine, even without a ring on your finger.”

A soft fleeting kiss on the lips, that has you chasing his mouth as he pulls away. A cheeky smile stares down at you, before he gently grabs your left hand and kisses your finger.

A silent promise.

When you fall asleep, you can’t help but dream about that promise.

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