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geminiwritten · 1 year

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i’m yours ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you find out that butcher slept with maeve, and attempt to ignore your feelings by going m.i.a. and going home with a complete stranger, only to awake the green-eyed monster living inside of butcher

preface: this isn’t set in canon timeline, it’s basically just using the bit where butcher sleeps with maeve as a bit of a jealousy catalyst

notes: this man has a hold on me... and i feel like this got a little rushed at the end but i still kind of like it, please let me know what y’all think! (also, i’m sorry all my stuff has the same formula, i promise i’m trying to mix it up!)

warnings: a lot of swearing, the ‘sewer-slide’ word, google-translated french, sexual content, and some soft smut

word count: 5315

Things are good, too good, but you’re doing your best not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hughie and Annie are happy, MM is content, and Frenchie is excitedly creating new methods of blowing up Supes almost daily. Butcher is… well, Butcher. He’s grumpy and brash, but seems to be feeling a little more positive lately, focusing more on recon and intel rather than running in with guns blazing.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you had managed to go grocery shopping without anyone stumbling home bloody and bruised. Frenchie is humming along to the song that had been playing on the radio, carrying most of the plastic bags while MM carries one with you on his back. You were all in such high spirits that he had let you jump on his back at the bottom of the apartment stairs, carrying you up four flights as if you weighed no more than a hiking backpack.

Frenchie chuckles at the two of you as he unlocks the apartment door, entering first and pushing it open all the way. You have to duck a little, giggling and holding on to MM for dear life as he starts jogging toward the couch. He drops the bag on the floor before falling into the sofa, and you squeal as he squashes you.

“Hey,” you exclaim, still laughing, “what the fuck? Steeds don’t sit on their riders!”

“You want to ride me next, petit ange?” Frenchie calls from the kitchen.

You writhe until MM moves, standing up with a satisfied grin across his lips. You flip him your middle finger as he turns away, ushering Frenchie out of the kitchen so he can put the groceries away. You find the TV remote buried in the couch cushions, and just as the old screen flickers to life, Kimiko emerges from the hallway. She looks at Frenchie with a small smile, signing hello before her nose crinkles, and she signs another sentence you struggle to catch as your attention is called toward the master bedroom doors.

Frenchie frowns curiously, “She says that it smells in here.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you lot are stinkin’ up my fuckin’ apartment,” Butcher says, running a hand through his hair.

He looks like shit. His shirt is wrinkled and the buttons are fastened crookedly, his hair is standing up in all directions, and the circles beneath his eyes are several shades darker than usual.

“It is our apartment, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “it is the least you can after making me blow up my last two places, eh?”

Butcher rolls his eyes before dropping into one of the dining room chairs, holding his face in his hands as he takes several deep breaths.

Frenchie looks to Kimiko again before translating, “She says it smells like alcohol and sweat, and a perfume that she has not smelt before.”

“I don’t wear perfume,” you note, “every time we have to haul ass and run, the bottles end up broken or missing, so I gave up.”

MM raises his hands in defence, “Don’t look at me, I haven’t seen anyone but you lot in the past twelve hours.”

“Perhaps it is something we picked up at the shops,” Frenchie shrugs.

Kimiko signs again, and you watch her to listen.

“You can smell a stranger?” you ask with a frown.

“To reiterate,” MM says, “I stayed at a motel alone last night, I was too tired to drive all the way here after visiting Janine.”

“I stayed with Annie,” you point out, “is that who you can smell?”

Kimiko shakes her head, and your heart begins to race anxiously. Neither she nor Frenchie stayed here last night either, opting for one of his old hideouts after scouring the city for any possible missed traces that Vought could use to find you all.

MM turns to Butcher, “Was there someone here last night?”

“Why would you not tell us that there was a break in?” Frenchie demands, his face a mixture of irritation and concern.

Butcher sighs, “There wasn’t a fuckin’ break in, calm down.”

Kimiko pads quietly around the room, subtly sniffing the air around MM and then Frenchie before moving toward you. She inhales above your head and grimaces, before moving to the side and taking a deep breath over the couch.

You shoot up from your seat and stumble toward the kitchen, “Me or the couch?”

She points at the sofa.

“Butcher,” MM says, his voice demanding, “explain before I slap your hungover ass.”

Its only then that you notice the two empty bottles of whiskey, one on the coffee table and one laying on the floor. You back up slowly toward the kitchen, a fresh wave of panic washing over you.

“Someone stopped by,” Butcher mutters into his hands, “that’s all.”

You reach the kitchen bench at the same time Kimiko does, still sniffing like a police dog, and her face twists into a disgusted frown. You startle again, jumping back from the bench as if it had burnt you.

“Care to elaborate?” MM presses.

Butcher sighs, and you can feel a lump growing in your throat.

“We all sleep here too, Butcher,” Frenchie states, “and we deserve to know if it is still safe to do so.”

“‘Course it’s fuckin’ safe,” Butcher says, finally turning his head to face the room. “Maeve came by, alrigh’? Just her, ‘n’ she had some information, so we had a chat and a drink. Is that alrigh’ with you nosey bastards?”

A weight drops in your stomach, anchoring you to the floor as moisture begins to blur your vision.

Kimiko stops sniffing when she reaches Butcher, cringing and stumbling several paces back until she is beside Frenchie.

“You slept with a Supe?” MM gasps.

Butcher huffs and pushes himself up from the chair, “No fuckin’ privacy with you lot, is there?”

MM raises his hands again, “Hey, I’m not judging, just shocked.”

Frenchie’s concern melts into taunting smirk, “No need to be defensive, Monsieur Charcutier, we all have our needs, and I am surprised that you managed to woo such a beautiful woman.”

“Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher sighs, dragging his feet toward the fridge.

Their voices blur into white noise as you focus on the slow inhale and exhale of your breath. You wriggle your toes in your boots, forcing yourself to feel your physical body instead of the whirlwind of emotions swirling through your head. It feels like your skull is fracturing with the effort that it takes to contain the storm, but you refuse to let your feelings win. You find a bottle and push them inside, jamming the cork in just as Frenchie snaps his fingers in front of your nose.

You blink, “What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, a soft crease between his brows.

“Yeah, sorry,” you blink again to quell your watery eyes, “what’s up?”

“Are you hungry?”

You glance over his shoulder at Butcher, his head in the fridge as he ignores MM’s demands to get out of the way.

“Not really,” you reply, “I was actually thinking about going back over to Annie’s, I think I forgot my… my socks.”

The concern between Frenchie’s brows deepens, “You forgot your socks?”

You nod, “My favourite socks.”

“Didn’t know you had favourite socks,” Butcher mumbles as he steps out of the kitchen.

“You don’t know a lot of things,” you state, plastering on a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

You can feel their curious gazes on you as you turn, retrieving your wallet and keys from the couch before striding out of the apartment door without a second glance. You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Annie to let her know that you’re on your way before switching it to ‘do not disturb’ and zipping it inside your jacket pocket, determined to forget about it until you’ve got a handle on your emotions.

The sun is setting by the time you reach the familiar street on which Hughie and Annie’s apartment is located, and you’re rather proud of the fact that you managed to focus on nothing but your steady steps the whole way here. You look up at the brick building on your left, but instead of turning toward the front steps, your feet carrying you across the street toward the park, not stopping until you’re standing in front of an empty bench.

“Something wrong with that one?” a voice asks, and you startle toward the source of it.

A young man is standing beside you, clad in running shorts and a tight exercise jacket. He doesn’t look menacing, but your whole body tenses as your fight or flight instincts battle for dominance.

“I’m sorry?”

He chuckles, “The bench, I mean. You’re frowning at it as if it’s diseased or something.”

“Oh,” you look back at the moss-ridden seat, “no, I just- I don’t know.”

“Are you alright?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and you let yourself relax, deciding that he isn’t a threat, just an overly friendly stranger.

“I’m fine, sorry,” you sigh, “just had a weird day.”

“That’s nothing to apologise for,�� he says, sitting on the bench and looking up at you. “I know the feeling.”

You sit beside him, watching his side profile and slowly realising how attractive he is. His hair is cropped short, shorter than you usually liked, but his eyes are a stunning green and the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw is definitely something you can appreciate.

“Do you often approach strangers in the park?” you ask.

He laughs again, his eyes sparkling under the orange sky, “No, not really, especially not strangers as gorgeous as you.”

You blush at the ground, deciding to focus on your fraying shoelaces rather than the handsome stranger.

“But I figured,” he goes on, “that if I didn’t ask this pretty girl if she was okay, I might not be able to stop thinking about her for the rest of my life.”

You actually giggle, immediately cursing yourself for being so easy, “That’s a long time.”

“I know, right? I didn’t fancy the risk, and hey,” he smiles at you, “looks like it might have been worth it.”

“Maybe,” you smile back, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nate.”

You’re not sure if you’re an idiot or if you’ve just given up on your own personal safety, but you sit and talk to Nate until the sun is well below the horizon. You learn that he’s a journalist and a dog person, and lately he’s been more afraid of Supes than comforted by their presence. You tell him you’re a freelancer, because it isn’t technically a lie, and that you’re in between gigs at the moment but questioning whether you’re really doing what you want to be doing. Also, not a lie.

“I know that this is probably very forward,” he says, his knee bouncing nervously, “but did you want to come back to my place for a drink? I would suggest a bar, but I’m not really dressed for it, and I just get this feeling that as soon as we say goodbye, you’re going to disappear forever.”

You frown, “You’re a real long-term guy, aren’t you?”

His cheeks flush pink, “I don’t have to be.”

As you walk alongside the man you met mere hours ago, you come to the conclusion that you must be suicidal. In the current state that the world is in, who in their right mind goes home with a complete stranger? You, apparently.

His apartment isn’t far from the park, which is a little comforting, knowing that you will have a speedy escape to Annie’s place if this guy does end up being a psycho serial killer. The buildings all look the same as you approach a row of tall brick blocks, climbing the few concrete steps up to the lobby doors before scaling three flights to reach his apartment door.

It’s surprisingly well decorated inside, and you can eye a few expensive items that make you wonder if he really is a struggling journalist, or perhaps a shady underground arts dealer. You take a seat at the kitchen bench as he babbles about how crappy his landlord is and how much money he’s had to spend on the place to make it liveable. The glass of wine he places in front of you is gone within two gulps, and he happily pours you another.

“I feel like I probably should have asked this a few hours ago,” he says with a sheepish smile, “but you aren’t with anyone, are you? Engaged or married, or anything like that.”

You choke on your mouthful of cheap wine, coughing the burn away while he hurries to get you a glass of water.

“No,” you finally reply, “I’m not, at all.”

“Good,” he replies, his earnest grin returning, “I mean, it’s surprising because you’re incredible, but I’m glad.”

You offer him a smile that you hope appears coy and not at all forced before drinking down the rest of your second glass of wine. He moves into the lounge room, and you take the opportunity to pour yourself another generous glass, quickly swallowing the two mouthfuls left in the bottle while his back is still turned. You gingerly place the empty bottle in the sink before following him, dropping onto the soft leather couch as he turns on the television.

A news broadcast lights up the screen, and fiery images of a truck collision flash behind the breaking news banner that reads: ‘QUEEN MAEVE SAVES THE DAY’. Your stomach twists into a knot as the bottle of emotions you had managed to almost forget about begins to break, the glass fracturing and threatening to send you into a full-blown mental breakdown.

“Damn,” Nate sighs, “I know the Supes are pretty sketchy these days, but Queen Maeve is just gorgeous.”

With one last burning gulp of wine, you turn to the man beside you and take his head between your hands, crushing your lips against his. He gasps, but responds quickly, his hands finding your hips and guiding you onto his lap.

The rest of the night is a blur as you attempt to give all of your attention to this stranger that you barely know instead of confronting the green-eyed monster roaring in your belly. He finishes once on the couch, pretty quickly, but you’re not one to judge, before you drag him into the bedroom and away from the incessant news broadcasts of Queen Maeve’s heroic act.

It isn’t your alarm that wakes you, or the sound of Frenchie and MM arguing about how to cook eggs, but rather the unfamiliar scent that douses your breath. Your body trembles with anxiety and your eyes snap open, darting around the strange room as your thoughts scramble to remember how you got here.

“Fuck,” you sigh at the sound of someone snoring beside you.

You gently roll over and slip out of the sheets, cold air immediately nipping at your naked body. You find the nearest item of clothing and slip it over your head before tiptoeing out of the bedroom and into the lounge room. Nerves and hunger mingle inside of your stomach, making you overwhelmingly nauseous by the time you find your jacket thrown over the back of the couch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter as you retrieve your phone from the pocket.

Dozens of missed calls and text messages fill your lock screen, several from Annie and Frenchie, a couple from Hughie and MM, but the majority of them listed under Butcher’s contact name, ‘Big Willy’. You thought it was funny a few days ago.

You quickly text Annie that you’re okay, you’re incredibly sorry, and that you’ll fill her in as soon as you see her. You find your jeans and wriggle into them before finding your panties and tucking them into your back pocket. You scoop your bra and your shirt off the floor on your way to the kitchen, and check your phone again for a reply from Annie. Nothing yet.

You drink the glass of untouched water from the kitchen bench before splashing your face and trying to calm the vibration of nerves coursing through your body.

“Hey.”

You startle at the sudden voice, turning to find Nate in nothing but sweatpants as he emerges from the bedroom.

“Hey,” you murmur.

He frowns, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, just- uh, my friends have been calling me,” you gesture to your phone, “and they’re pretty worried.”

“Oh,” he lets out a long breath, “I didn’t even hear it ringing last night.”

You smile weakly, not bothering to explain that you were intentionally avoiding your phone all afternoon.

He steps forward, “So, did you-”

The apartment door bursts open, splinters of wood scattering across the floor as you squeal and Nate jumps away from the blow. Your heart is racing, but your body reacts as it was trained to do, and you dive for a knife from the block beside the stove before freezing as you recognise the figure stalking through the broken door.

“Butcher,” you say, “what the fuck?”

His head snaps toward you, the crease between his brows softening and his eyes looking almost vulnerable as realises that it’s you.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you and why did you just break my door?” Nate speaks up.

Your stomach sinks as Butcher’s attention is turned toward the shirtless man, murderous intent returning to his face.

“Who the fuck am I?” he spits, “Who the fuck are you?”

Nate looks tiny compared to Butcher, his narrow frame absolutely dwarfed by Butcher’s broad height and intimidating stance.

“I-I’m Nate,” the smaller man says, “and this is my apartment, that’s my door that you just destroyed.”

“Yeah?” Butcher taunts, stalking forward, “An’ what’re you gon’a do ‘bout it?”

Nate looks at you, his eyes frantic and begging for help.

“Butcher, calm down, he’s-”

“Calm down?” he whirls toward you, “You want me to fuckin’ calm down?!”

“Hey, man,” Nate says, “we can talk, you don’t have to-”

“Nate,” you put your hand up, “I’m sorry, but please shut up.”

“Nate,” Butcher repeats mockingly, “if you value your life, I’d listen to ‘er.”

You drop the knife on the bench, “Butcher, can we just leave, please?”

“You don’t get to make any requests right now, sweethear’,” he says, taking a heavy step toward you, “not after the shit you put me through for the past twelve fuckin’ hours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls sarcastically, “maybe ‘bout the fact that you fuckin’ disappeared! You didn’t answer your damn phone, didn’t tell anyone where you fuckin’ were! I got a call from Hughie askin’ if you were back home, ‘cause you texted Annie ‘n’ told her you were comin’, but didn’t fuckin’ show up!”

A pebble of guilt drops into your stomach, but you ignore it, squaring up to him with a scowl.

“So?” you shrug, “I’m an adult, I can do as I fucking please.”

“Not without tellin’ me!” he exclaims, “Not if I don’t know where you fuckin’ are or if you’re even fuckin’ alive!”

“You’re not my fucking father, Butcher!” you shout back, feeling another fissure in the bottle of emotions. “I don’t belong to you, I don’t have to ask you for permission to live my own fucking life!”

His jaw twitches, a tidal wave of emotion crashing through his eyes all too quickly for you to try and discern any of them.

“A-Are you Y/N’s boyfriend?” Nate asks timidly.

You and Butcher turn to him in unison, exclaiming at the same time, “No!”

A beat of silence passes, and Butcher’s glare doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath to try and sooth the storm of frustration threatening to consume you.

“Butcher,” you say softly, “can we please leave?”

His head snaps back toward you, his eyes scanning your body as they fill with realisation.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks, turning back to Nate.

He doesn’t respond, his mouth hanging open as he takes several steps back.

“You gon’a answer me?”

“Butcher,” you say again, “cut it out.”

He takes another menacing step toward Nate, “I asked you a question.”

“W-We slept together, yes,” Nate stammers.

The laugh that leaves Butcher’s lips is chilling, sounding almost mad.

“Oh, pardon my French,” he says, “perhaps I should’a asked if you made sweet fuckin’ love to this gorgeous woman right ‘ere.”

“For fuck’s sake!” you shout, “Stop it, stop whatever the fuck this is, and let’s just fucking go!”

“You’re tellin’ me that you fuckin’ disappeared so you could hide out with this fuckin’ twat?” Butcher exclaims, “You let me worry myself fuckin’ sick so you could get a lousy fuck?”

The bottle explodes, shards of glass cutting you from the inside and sending white hot waves of frustration and anger, and despair rolling through your body.

“I can fuck whoever I want, Butcher!” you scream, startled by the volume of your own voice.

His eyes narrow, but his lips don’t move.

“And you can fuck whoever the fuck you want,” you spit, “obviously.”

You snatch your phone off the bench and stomp toward the door, turning to Nate with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, about… this.”

You continue down the hall and the three flights of stairs, not bothering to check if Butcher is following until you’re outside. The temperature is significantly lower than it was yesterday, but your stubbornness doesn’t let you show it as Butcher strides past you toward the car haphazardly parked at the curb.

You climb into the passenger’s seat, sitting as close as you can to the door and hugging your clothes against your chest as you stare out the window. Tears fill your eyes, your nose growing hot and your cheeks undoubtedly red as you use every ounce of self-control you still have to stave of the inevitable. All you need to do is make it home and make it to your bedroom, and then you can cry. You can curl up with your face in your pillow and sob, and admit that you’re jealous, that you’re hurt, and that you love a man who doesn’t even understand the meaning of that word anymore.

“You look like shit,” he grunts.

You sniffle, keeping your face turned away from him, “So do you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get much fuckin’ sleep,” he says as the car comes to a halt, “I was up all night worryin’ ‘bout whether or not you were fuckin’ alive.”

“Well, I didn’t get much sleep either,” you retort, before pushing the passenger door open and stumbling out.

You hear the car door slam as you hurry up the stairs and into the building, taking the steps two at a time until you reach the apartment door. To your great relief, it’s unlocked, and you let yourself in before Butcher has even made it into the hallway.

“Oh, my goodness, mon amour,” Frenchie gasps, “you’re alive! You’re okay… are you okay?”

You don’t realise your crying until you try to look at him, your vision blurred by heavy tears as they fall in fat droplets down your cheeks.

MM steps forward, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “I’m fine, I was with a-a friend.”

“A friend?” Butcher echoes, the door slamming behind him.

Your blood sizzles in your veins, heated by the overwhelming frustration coiling in your chest.

“How the fuck did you know where I was?” you demand, spinning around to face him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Do you have my fucking phone bugged?”

Butcher blows a long breath out of his nose, the thick vein in his neck throbbing under his red skin. “Look,” he says, “I know that whatever the fuck just happened wasn’t ideal, but why can’t you fuckin’ see this from my point of view?”

“Our point of view,” MM corrects, “we were all worried.”

“I get that!” you exclaim, “I fucking understand that, but what I don’t understand is why Butcher is still acting like such a fucking cunt. You can see that I’m fine! I’m alive, so what’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” he snaps, “Why didn’t you answer your fuckin’ phone? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you fuckin’ were? And why the fuck did you go home with a complete fuckin’ stranger?”

“Oh, shit,” Frenchie murmurs.

“Maybe I just needed a fucking break.”

The room falls quiet, the only sound being Frenchie’s soft footsteps as he backs away. You use the clothes in your arms to wipe the fresh fall of tears from your cheeks and try to ease your shaky breaths as you wait for another onslaught of reprimands.

Butcher sighs, “Go shower.”

“What?”

“You need to shower,” he says, stepping forward.

You frown, “Why?”

“You look like shit, and you sm-” he stops himself, pausing when you take a small step back.

“I look like shit and I smell,” you finish for him, “thanks, Butcher.”

You drag your feet toward the bathroom, dropping your clothes on the floor and staring at your wrecked face in the mirror. Your hair is a mess and your face is blotchy and red, with streaks of black painting your cheeks. The shirt hanging loosely from your shoulders is unfamiliar, and something akin to disgust settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Give me your clothes,” Butcher says as he appears in the reflection behind you.

“Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

He sighs, “I’m tryin’ to help.”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” you turn to him and lean against the vanity, “go offer it to someone else. I’m sure Maeve would love to see your fucking name pop up on her phone.”

His frown disappears, and you can feel the air shift. Fuck. Now you’ve done it. The shards of glass sticking you from the inside have cut right through your chest, slicing it open as your ribcage cracks and unfolds, presenting your pathetic heart to the man who already held it in his hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them back with determination.

“I-Is that what this is-” he struggles for words, running his hands through his hair, “for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

Your breath comes and goes in short gasps, the lump in your throat crushing your windpipe as it demands to be felt.

“For fuck’s sake!” he exclaims, before taking one step forward and slamming the bathroom door shut.

Fear sparks through you, and you whimper, “Butcher, please don’t-”

Before you can finish, he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a vice hold as he rests his chin on the top of your head. You sob into his shirt, tremors wracking your exhausted body as every bit of fear and frustration tears you apart from the inside. You’re not sure how you let yourself get this emotional. Maybe it’s the fact that the world is falling apart, and you’re supposed to act like you’re ready to save it? Or maybe it’s because you’re fucking tired of having everything you love ripped away from you, every chance you think you might have at happiness taken from you by the cunts in the sky who call themselves ‘Superheroes’.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

The turbulence inside of you quells simply because you finally acknowledged it, and you manage to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Butcher,” you croak, looking up at him through tear laced lashes, “kiss me?”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts it up, leaning in to meet you the rest of the way before his lips brush yours. It’s hesitant and soft, barely a touch, and he pulls away too soon.

“You need to shower.”

“Oh,” you try to wriggle out of his arms, but they’re too strong.

“I can smell that fuckin’ twat all over you,” he growls, “an’ it’s makin’ me fuckin’ sick.”

Realisation slaps you across the face, giving you the strength to remember how to hold yourself up as he pulls away. His fingers curl into the material at the neck of your shirt, ripping it apart right down the middle before pushing it off your shoulders and tossing it on the floor.

Another growl rumbles through his chest and the air in the room shifts again, now thick with a tension that has your heart throbbing in anticipation. Your mind races, your thoughts riding rollercoasters as you struggle to catch up with his fast hands. Your jeans are unbuttoned and pooled around your ankles in less than a second, and he takes another moment to devour your naked body before moving to turn on the shower.

You stumble out of your jeans as he quickly sheds his own clothes before wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you under the warm stream of water and holds your body against his, the feeling of his bare skin making your head spin. He takes the bottle of bodywash from the small shelf and pops the cap with one hand, turning it upside down and squirting a ridiculous amount all over your chest and his.

You giggle and he grins, returning the bottle to the shelf before crushing his lips against yours. The soap makes your skin slide against his in the most delicious way and you can feel your core clench, eliciting a wanton moan from your open mouth. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and claiming you with hungry, sloppy kisses.

“Didn’t think you’d be jealous,” he murmurs against your mouth, “didn’t think you fuckin’ cared about me.”

You slide your hands across his bare shoulders and behind his neck, finding purchase in his wet hair and tugging gently as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that you have.

“I do care,” you sigh when his lips leave yours to lap at your neck, “I am fucking jealous.”

“Sweethear’,” he whispers, his hands moving to your breasts, “you’ve got nothin’ to be fuckin’ jealous ‘bout.”

His mouth leaves your skin as he turns you to face the wall, pressing his body against your back before pushing you into the tiled wall. You gasp first at the sudden cold, and then at the feeling of him grinding himself against your ass.

“I’m yours,” he growls, his lips against your shoulder, “always fuckin’ have been.”

You still manage to speak despite the pleasure of him threatening to overwhelm you. “Then why?”

One hand wraps gently around your throat while the other splays across your lower belly, teasing the place just below that aches for his touch.

“‘Cause I never fuckin’ dreamed that I’d have you,” he says, his lips at your ear now.

You reach back with one hand, holding the nape of his neck as you turn so that your mouth can meet his in a messy kiss.

“You’ve always had me,” you murmur, “I belonged to you the day I met you.”

His hips buck against your ass, pressing you against the wall and making you whimper.

“You’re mine,” he says, moving back just enough for you to turn around.

You nod as you lean down to kiss his neck. Your tongue laving at his wet skin before your teeth sink in and he hisses, one hand squeezing your hip as the other smacks against the tiled wall.

“All yours.”

You place your hands against his chest, pushing him back enough for you to drop to your knees, your hands trailing down his body until they reach his hips. You dig your fingers in and look up at him through your wet lashes.

“Show me who I belong to.”

END.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #the boys #karl urban #frenchie #mm #mothers milk #hughie campbell #starlight #queen maeve #homelander #oneshot #one shot #imagine #fanfic

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pariahsparadise · 1 year

Text

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong.

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty.

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him.

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks.

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all.

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lilfriezatyrant · 2 months

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Deer Nighttime Peace 🌙🌟

Several weeks have passed since you landed in hell. Although you wanted to understand the real reason why you ended up in such a place at all, although you are still human and cannot remember whether you actually died... this mental quest is becoming more and more forgotten with each passing hour.

The more time you spend with one of the strongest regents, the less important this thought becomes.

Alastor, he was the being who gave you refuge in this hotel.

Your safe haven. Protected from the other demons outside the building.

Your protection is also maintained by a pact made by the elegant scarlet demon in deer form.

"If you continue to entertain me well, you will stand in my favor."

Actually a very fragile offer, at least for your part in this convenant. After all, it also means that if you no longer bring him that certain amusement, there's no place for you here anymore.

But would that really be the case? After all, the other demons here, who are also guests and hosts have grown so fond of you and they seem to like you too!

Even the tall grumpy black owl cat, who shunned you at first, secretly enjoys your frequent little caresses on his ears. A cat's purr, however quiet it may be, still sends out vibrations that you can clearly feel under the palm of your hand.

There is almost never an evening when you don't end the day with Alastor. Whether it's just with a cup of tea or one or more glasses of whiskey before you are led back to your room by his shadow or, if the tiredness or the alcohol effect has been too great, even personally by him.

On this night, however, it should be an unusual event...

Your hand grips more of the pillow you are lying on, while your other hand grips a soft surface...it feels even softer than the pillow...you clutch the outline a little tighter...it feels furry. Yet you don't exert any great force, as if you want to feel every detail, every hair.

You sleepily open one eye and only now realize that there is some weight on your chest. You just can't make anything out in the darkness.

Perhaps you were half asleep when you brought the little radio back to bed that Alastor gave you as a gift?

But...the device doesn't feel so fluffy. No, not at all. It should feel metallic, hard and a bit warm...right? Only the warmth of the fur shares a commonality with the little vintage medium...

As you carefully slide your petite hand over it, you now feel something of a hard material and it emanates coolness in contrast to the previous texture. You feel your way upwards and the material ends in a sharp point, but even in your sleepiness you remain careful not to hurt yourself.

Suddenly your eyes widen as you hear a noise. A strange noise, it sounded like a hoot of an owl...? Why would there be a forest dweller here when you're in your room in a hotel? Right In the middle of hell?

But your confusion is now turning into fear. Panic, to be precise, because right in front of you huge, monstrous eyes glowing in an eerie red flickering. The ebony pupils amidst the bright red, deformed into dials that rotate clockwise every second.

Your hand instinctively loosens and although you want to sit up, startled, you are prevented from doing so by the weight on your body.

"Waking up so early?" bright yellow teeth glare out of the darkness. A hellish, distorted grin so unholy, that reaches up to the two scarlet saucers.

"Unusual for you, little doe."

Your heartbeat, which you could still hear pounding so clearly in your body, vibrates along with the static radio sound lacing the voice.

Your own voice almost catches in your throat as you try to name the now familiar creature that caused you such panic before.

"Al-Alastor...!"

The eldritch eyes now swing counterclockwise and return to normal size, his chin perched now right on your collarbone, his eyes, still seeming so huge now due to the lack of distance, focusing only on you.

"Yes, why! Did you expect someone else?" The voice seems amused and cheerful, and you can even hear the audience laughing in the background. It's an amplification that he likes to use to make fun of something, which even you notice after a short time.

And yet... as close as the radio demon is to you right now, he has never been so close to you.

Your face blushes more and you only give a non-verbal, slight shake of your head in response. Right now you are completely overwhelmed as to what is actually going on...is this just a dream?

You slowly look around yourself in the darkness to avoid the demon's hypnotic gaze and the faint sounds of animals and the leaves blowing in the wind through the trees...you must be in his room. In the personal realm of this overlord.

"Your heartbeat...what a harmonious rhythm it makes...lovely." He props his cheek with one hand while he briefly tugs playfully at your pajama with the index finger of his other hand before tapping the spot above your heart in unison.

In response, you only let out an embarrassed giggle and you recognize the outline of Alastor better now that your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and your surroundings and he is indeed actually lying on top of you with his weight.

It doesn't feel oppressive, but it's still impossible to get away from him.

The question is...do you even want to?

"You should go back to sleep, my dear. After all, you have to get up very early in the morning to listen to my first broadcast, don't you?" His asking is more of a rhetorical question, since you take it for granted. You've never missed one of his broadcasts before.

His finger continues to tap gently to the sound of your pounding heart, but slower and calmer. In a way, you feel safe with him, this...protective gentleman. Whenever you have left the hotel, he has always been with you and nothing has ever happened to you...even his shadow seems to feel comfortable in your presence and strokes now your hair for a brief moment.

"Hmm..." the radio demon seems to muse, stopping the contact of his finger and rubbing his chin instead, before finally resting his head fully on your chest again.

"I could create a melody based on your delicious heart beat, what do you think?" his voice sounds static, with a recognizable, smug undertone.

Your face remains red, but with a slight, very sincere smile.

"That would be very flattering, Mr. Alastor."

The noble patron morphs his grin into a much wider and crooked one. He seems more than delighted with the answer, nestling his head more against the pajama, now listening with one ear to your once again uncontrolled tune of your heart.

"Then it's a done deal! Very good!" The cheerful echo in his voice is clearly audible, but his next sentence makes you now puzzled.

"You may continue, you know?." He purrs these words and they sound honest. Unfiltered. They are not in the usual voice that sounds through a radio.

But what does he mean...?

Before you could ask your question, a cool breath grips your palm and Alastor's shadowy image directs your hand to his head.

It is the first touch you have experienced with him, which he allows and tolerates. At that precise moment, time stands still for you and every quiet ambient noise is completely muted.

It was his ears and hair that you felt in your sleepy state. His inconspicuous antlers that you felt towards... the warmth and closeness emanated from him...

You silently thank the shadow with a smile before you start stroking its very soft texture again. Your ministrations remain delicate and almost reverent, as you don't want to ruffle any of his hair. Your eyes slowly close and you can hear a very soft static purring sound that goes through your body like a gentle wave.

It feels so real, it can't be a dream.

#so for everyone who wants to read a fluff little oneshot with Alastor uvu #I needed that comfort tbh and it helped c:#alastor x reader #my writing #oneshot #I did not really count the words I just write uvu #soft #Alastor #Alastor the radio demon #comfortable scene and I guess it is still in character 🤔#have a soft radio demon here ✨#based on a rp with reptile--queen <3 #hazbin hotel oneshot

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babyboiboyega · 9 months

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Is This The Love That I Need? (Shuri x Blk!F!Reader)

Shuri x Scientist!Reader

Word Count: 11.8k

Content: fluff, a bit of angst that's made up by some good ole filth so if you aren't 18+, take yo ass ON SOMEWHERE <;3

Summary: the one where your tumultuous relationship with the Queen crosses a line while you’re on an undercover mission.

A/N: heads up: this oneshot goes from past tense narrative to present only because tumblr deleted the parts that I changed to present tense. Tumblr get on my nerves, chile

But I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Babyboiboyega's Marvel Masterlist

You'd had no intentions of rising to become one of the best scientists in Wakanda, but once you had gained the status of lead scientist, you had no intentions of letting it go. Being one of the top scientists came with its perks, such as being one of the first to know of any new projects that could benefit Wakanda and of any that posed a potential threat. Another perk that came with the title was your constant work alongside the only scientist who ranked higher than you…who also happened to be the Queen of Wakanda.

There were many who would call it a perk- having the chance to work alongside a woman who was the greatest scientist Wakanda, and the world, had ever seen. She was a good ruler and an ever-better scientist; one who was known for her compassion towards her people whether they worked in the palace or not, and for her dedication to further improving Wakanda.

However, despite these true claims…there was another side to Shuri Udaku that you only saw, and that was mainly because you gave her a run for her money in the lab. Nothing disrespectful, as she was still your Queen and you still held a great deal of respect for her, as she did for you; but there was something in your DNA and hers that just automatically made you go at each other when the two of you were in close proximity.

Hell, even when the two of you were in the same room.

Whether it was debating over the best way to go about a project, or you asking her why she was constantly looking over your shoulder when you were in charge of one, there never ceased to be an end to your…less than harmonious partnership. It wasn't something that you could exactly hide, either. The rest of the scientists saw, and usually kept their distance when the two of you got started; and those closer to Shuri definitely saw it, usually rolling their eyes knowingly in the same instance. There was absolutely no chance that you two could hide the little competitive natures of yourselves and how they sometimes clashed.

But you could hide the abundance of feelings that had seemed to slowly accumulate the longer you worked with/for her. You hid the little spark in your chest at her relentless teasing as an agitated breath; you hid the brightening of your eyes as she challenged you with a project as a subtle eye roll; you hid the desire to reach out to her and pull her close even for just a second as fists that clenched in irritation.

You had thought that you were doing so well hiding all of those urges, but all it took was one raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk on Okoye's face for you to realize that maybe you weren't hiding them that well. After that, you had made it your mission to shove those feelings aside, as indulging in them would only result in something that hit a little too close to a fantasy that you knew would be false.

You were *just* a scientist. She was the Queen of Wakanda. The only thing connecting you two was your love for science. That and the urge to prove the other wrong whenever you could. That's all it would be between the two of you, and she seemed to never let you forget.

"Wait…is that the equation you're using? Are you still working on your project with the-?

"Underground sensors for unstable vibranium? Yes."

You didn't have to look away from your workstation to know that a raised eyebrow and a scrutinizing gaze would be awaiting you on Shuri's face. It could be heard in her voice as she continued to question you.

"And this is the project where you're using the methods of-"

"Uncertainty quantification, yes, Your Highness, that's exactly what I am working on, why?"

Sure enough, her expression matched the one you had predicted to be on her face as you finally looked up, removing your goggles and placing them on top of your pulled-back locs. Her lips were slightly upturned, a knowing smile that resembled more of a smirk than anything, and her eyes were slightly narrowed as she contemplated your question. They flickered between the projection of your equations and you before finally settling once more on the former.

"Well, don't you think it would be better to use an adjoint equation? You know, build another formula off of-"

"Off of the integrated parts of this original equation, yes, I'm aware. And I was just about to do that." The last few words were spoken through a tight smile as you set your hands on the table, turning your body more to look at her.

She had a knack for bringing out your most competitive side, and you shared that knack. But unlike you, she also had a specialty of seeking you out no matter which part of the lab you were in, so it only made sense for you to always argue with her, right? She had taken a few minutes out of her precious time to find you and grate your nerves in just the slightest; you couldn't let that time spent together go to waste.

"Oh, okay. Because…well, it kind of looked as if you were about to use that equation to solve the UQ."

You took a moment to let out a breath in her direction before turning back to your project, your hands swiping the appropriate variables of said equation until it formed a new, and more correct, one. Once it was formed, you turned back to her, a smile on your face that expressed exactly what you thought of her looking over your shoulder.

Instead of replying, she simply stepped closer to your work area, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she looked over the equation…as if she were critiquing it. She pulled her arms behind her back, walking around it until she could stand right next to you. You had to try your hardest to not draw in a deep breath of the subtle but almost always dizzying smell of her scent as she drew closer; amber and something else that beckoned for you to step closer and take another deep breath.

Even when she was looking over your shoulder and firing off slick comments toward you, your attraction to her didn't wane one bit.

"Your Highness, I think the General wishes to speak to you."

If you had been looking, you would have seen the way she subtly rolled her eyes as the title fell from your mouth to address her. *'Your Highness'.* She expected to be called that by the other scientists, the elders, and anyone else who didn't really know her. And one could argue that you didn't really know her…and Shuri would probably agree…to a certain extent. Despite that, the fact remained that you were no regular scientist *to her*.

She just didn't know exactly how to explain that to you, which is why she always picked you as the scientist who she would constantly tease and rile up. There was a line that she'd never cross, and whenever she saw that she was crossing it and riling you up *too* much, she'd make sure to dial it back.

But until that line appeared, she'd continue to poke every single one of your buttons; and she continued to do so as she urged you to 'look over that equation' before leaving your workstation and walking to Okoye.

The General watched as Shuri approached, her calculating eyes flickering back and forth between you and her. An eyebrow raised once the young queen stopped in front of her, and the sight of it only made Shuri pause in question.

"You needed me?"

"When are you going to say something?"

Shuri's actions paused, her hands gripping the edge of her own workstation at Okoye's words. Her head swiveled, quickly finding you before she let out a breath at seeing you oblivious to the conversation that was veering towards the topic of you. When she turned back to Okoye, her eyes held a warning, albeit, one that wasn't malicious at all.

"Okoye, now is not the time. Maybe we can talk about this when we aren't in my lab? Or at another time…or never."

A dismissive sound left Okoye's mouth, her hand waving slightly. While her eyes continued to glance over at you, her words were directed toward the young woman in front of her.

"Leave it to you, and you'll never say anything. Now I don't want to intervene, but-"

"But nothing, you will do no such thing."

The finger Shuri pointed at Okoye was not intimidating in the slightest, even if it held a good bit of power more than Okoye possessed. The General showed exactly what she thought of it as she rolled her eyes slightly, stepping closer to the workstation that separated them.

"Anyway…I'm here to discuss the mission plans you drafted. Specifically, the part where you planned on doing this *alone*."

Shuri's expression turned more stoic at the change in topic, her head nodding as Okoye spoke. Yet, at hearing the skepticism and disapproval in her voice, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Of course, I planned on doing this alone. It's an easy mission- easy enough for me to complete myself. Get into the gala, find the room with the correct computer system, get the needed information, and leave."

The first warning Shuri received came in the form of Okoye leaning her spear against her workstation with a dull thud, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her muscled arms crossed in front of her, and then she was taking a step forward.

"You're the sovereign ruler of an entire nation, Shuri; you can't just disappear from the gala without raising suspicions. The mission will be compromised before it even begins."

The second warning Shuri got was the sight of Okoye's head tilting and her lips parting in disbelief. One would think that she'd use all of the knowledge she retained about Okoye from the years of knowing her and put it to good use, but sometimes, the young royal just had to push her luck.

"I'll say I was in the bathroom or something. Shouldn't be too hard."

The statement had been more joking than not, as Shuri knew the excuse wouldn't fly in the slightest, but the small, shit-eating grin on her face quickly disappeared as soon as the words left her mouth.

The darkening of Okoye's disapproval on her face was the third, and last, warning Shuri received before the General launched into one of her lectures about tactics, skills, and working smarter, not harder.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but eavesdrop slightly on the conversation between the two women. Your proximity to them coupled with their hushed voices meant you could only make out a few words, but it was enough for you to realize that they were speaking of the computer system from the states that had managed to sneak past Wakanda's protective technological wall. It had been for just a second before you were able to shut it out, but that second could turn into more if you all failed to understand how they were able to do so in the first place. The last you had heard, they were busy coming up with a mission that would help them obtain the information necessary for the problem.

It'd be a field mission, and the computer system would be in the same building as a gala that would be hosted by the person you all suspected developed the program. It'd be much easier to get the program itself and find out about it than talk to a human who could, and probably would, lie through their teeth.

As far as you knew, your part would come into play after the programming was obtained. You'd take it apart link by link, firewall by firewall until you could find out every single thing about it. You'd be able to do it from the comfort of your workstation in the lab, which was normal. You were a scientist…you didn't do fieldwork.

So when your name is suddenly mentioned alongside the words 'undercover' and 'operation', of course, your head snaps up and in the direction of the two women only to see them already looking at you. Your eyes narrow as they met Shuri's gaze, your lips pursing in suspicion.

"Miss Y/L/N?" Okoye's strong voice carries across the lab, and when accompanied by the wave of her hand, you know what she's asking you to do. You have to press a few buttons in order to safely store away the chemicals you're working with, and you do so with an inaudible sigh before turning and making your way to them.

"Your Highness…General…you called?" There's a certain level of nonchalance in your tone as you address them, but they're used to it. Working alongside Shuri meant sometimes working alongside Okoye, and you had passed 'just a scientist' status in her eyes as well.

"What are you doing this coming Friday?"

You hear her question, but you're a little preoccupied trying to discern Shuri's thoughts just from her facial expression. Her eyebrows pinch together slightly, a prominent frown on her face, yet her eyes refuse to meet yours. It's a stark difference from the teasing look she had worn not even 10 minutes ago when had spoken to you…what could have happened between then and now?

"I don't think I'm doing anything, as of yet. Why?"

"Well, now you are."

Okoye doesn't give you a chance to respond in any way before she's explaining the plans that she's thrown you into. Her voice is the only one you hear the entire time, as Shuri busies herself with fiddling with the various tools on her desk. Your eyes continuously glance at her, trying to gauge any kind of reaction but to no avail. Even when Okoye stops, asking you if you have any questions, she still remains silent. But now, it isn't lost on you why she remained silent.

"So, let me clarify. You want me to attend a gala…in America…with The Queen. And then at this gala, I have to find the computer that broke through our defenses, hack into it while American miscreants are walking around with primitive guns, get the information we are looking for, and then go back to the gala as if nothing has happened?"

You thought it was outlandish coming from Okoye's mouth, but as you relay the plan back to her, you come to the conclusion that it's more than outlandish. It's preposterous; ludicrous; atypical; as a few Americans say, 'backasswards'. Your thoughts are clear on your face as you look quickly between the two of them, looking for any sign that they're both playing some kind of twisted joke.

The apprehensive look in Shuri's eyes coupled with the firm set of Okoye's mouth tells you enough, and it only makes it more real for you. The prospect of what you're doing makes your heart skip a beat in nervousness as you shake your head quickly.

"Wait, I don't have a morsel of experience in the field. I can't do this, I'm just a scientist. I'm supposed to stay here, in this lab."

You try your hardest to keep the desperation out of your voice despite having the feeling tighten your chest. While you aren't too keen on the plan and having been introduced to it without prior knowledge, you also aren't too keen on seeming as afraid as you actually feel.

There's a deep-seated knowledge that even if you do let your fear show, you know that neither of the women will make you feel bad about it. They'd both been in their fair share of situations that had resulted in the same heart-pounding, hand-sweat-inducing symptoms you were going through...but they hadn't complained. At least not in front of you...or anyone, for that matter.

"I agree, this mission is too risky for it to be her first. There has to be something else we can do. Okoye...I can do this."

A desperation of her own laces Shuri's words as she attempts to sway Okoye once again, her eyebrows set in a determined frown. You don't know if it's a desperation for her to simply go alone...or a desperation to leave you there in the lab, and contemplating the latter option only opens up the door for more questions pertaining to Shuri's thoughts when it comes to your role in this plan.

"You agree that I'm just a scientist, that I can't do this, or both?"

The words are falling from your lips faster than you can stop them, though as soon as they're out in the open, you find that you don't want to take them back. A sliver of annoyance quickly accompanies the fear you feel, spurred on by Shuri's determination to have you stay there.

You had been included in the plan for a reason, and that was because your skills could be utilized. And while you're still incredibly hesitant to actually agree to it, the thought of Shuri already being under the impression that you wouldn't do it because you couldn't was enough for you to let the question fly.

It clearly catches her by surprise if her raised eyebrows and frozen movements are anything to go by. She looks at you for a second, presumably trying to pinpoint the change in your disposition regarding the plan, before slowly shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

Frustration had already been radiating off of her when you had initially joined the conversation, but now, as you seem to challenge her in the slightest in regards to what she truly thought, that frustration seems to grow.

The dynamic, unique to only you two, is being slightly stretched and warped. You were confused as to why.

The easy answer would be something along the lines of this mission being an important one, as it would lead the search to find whoever had dared to try and gain access to Wakanda. It only makes sense that she wants to make sure nothing will go wrong, but does she think that it can go wrong if you were there?

"I may be just a scientist, but I am more than capable of doing what is asked of me. Especially when it comes to Wakanda's security."

Shuri knows that better than anyone; that's something she has no problem admitting to herself. She's seen your skills put to the test multiple times, and each time, you'd come out on top. It doesn't matter if its a genuine problem that needs fixing or if it's just something she had given you to be a pest; this problem is the former.

As soon as it had happened, you had alerted Shuri…after already fixing the problem, of course. It had been one of the few times where her words were only laced with gratitude and not an *almost* endearing amount of sass. Unbeknownst to you, it had been the moment her feelings had solidified for you; seeing you explain something so complex but in a clear and concise way in order to solve the problem quicker had been…well, to put it simply, attractive. She had admired you while you had explained the problem to her, and she had only torn her gaze away when you had questioned if she was alright, much to her embarrassment.

It had been one of the only moments where she had feared that her real feelings had leaked through her words and actions, and it had only led to the fear that it would threaten the peculiar relationship between you two. It wasn't exactly fragile, but she wasn't willing to risk it.

Especially when she had no clue as to whether you viewed her as none other than a royal member who barked orders in the lab or as something else.

"I agree, you are more than capable. It's just-"

"If you agree, then why don't you want me to join you on this mission?"

Shuri's eyes widen slightly in exasperation as you interrupt her. Instead of answering, she merely walks around her station until she's standing in front of you, her eyes meeting yours in an intense look that seems almost as if she's trying to convey something.

"I never said that I *didn't* want you to join me-"

"If that's the case, then you wouldn't mind me coming along." Purely to spite you, you added on silently.

"I didn't say that either-"

A metallic thud echoing through the lab is enough to stop the conversation before it turns into one of your infamous debates that almost everyone has had a front-row seat to. The sound makes the both of you turn to Okoye, your mouth snapping shut in the face of the General's stern look of warning. She points between the two of you as if to admonish two children, which, in her eyes, you two are.

"I will not allow you two to argue the entire time and potentially compromise the mission. Get this...bickering out of your system while you're here, because first thing tomorrow morning, you two will be on your way to the States."

She says the words quickly as if to chastise you, all in an attempt to make you two stop. She's seen exactly how long the two of you can go back and forth, and if she were honest with herself, she'd say that she was growing a little tired of the obvious avoidance and dancing around the two of you were engaging in. But it seems that even the mention of an important mission isn't enough to stop the inevitable debate and bout of bickering, as all it takes is another comment from Shuri for it to start back up again.

The General can only shake her head and turn on her heel, leaving the lab with the sound of you two relentlessly throwing verbal jabs at each other floating after her.

There's more than a good chance that the mission won't cut down the amount of arguing between you, but maybe it'll be good for something else.

*******************************************

The hotel's ballroom is filled with a crowd that shares the same demographic, status, and wealth, amongst other things. However, despite the homogeneity of the ball's crowd, you find that the universe may be on your side as you immediately notice a number of other attendees who have ranging shades of melanin dotting the crowd. It's a relief for two reasons: it fills that part of your chest that's used to hoping for more faces that look like your own whenever you leave Wakanda, and it also means that the majority of eyes in the room won't solely be on you.

That's not to say that there aren't any eyes on you, as you've already met more gazes than you can count that have already been focused on you, skepticizing and for the sole purpose of sizing you up. Though the weight of their gazes is bearable as you make your way through the ballroom, letting your lips curl into a smile that requires minimal effort. There’s not an ounce of sincerity behind the smile, but neither is there sincerity behind the smiles of every person in attendance. This is simply a get-together for those with deep pockets who like to pretend as if they’re satisfied in life; in truth, you can clock the competitive gazes most of them share with each other, always wondering how deep the other’s pockets are and wondering how’d they get that deep. They’re too busy comparing themselves to each other that they barely notice the unfamiliar and lone black woman with the black, floor-length ball gown and elaborately styled locs at the nape of her neck as you make your way to the open bar settled along one of the walls.

Not to mention that the kinds of people who are in attendance are usually the ones who forget the faces of those who they don't deem 'worthy enough' of their time.

But there’s one pair of eyes that you can feel burning into your skin, even as she stands at the other end of the elegant bar, the people around her trying in vain to hear her opinion on whatever tone-deaf topic they’re talking about. You have the urge to turn and look at her, possibly find a way to communicate with her that maybe she should stop looking so damn hard lest the white people around see two black women looking at each other and automatically assume that they’re together…which would make sense because you are together, but it certainly wouldn’t make it easier to be inconspicuous.

But instead of doing so, you simply smile and order the first cocktail you can think of.

“Hi, I’ll have a Rose Sangria, please.” Your words are lost amidst the other patrons giving their orders to the other bartenders, but one seems to hear you, as evident by the way she nods and sends you a stressed, and rather rehearsed, smile. She says nothing about your order, nor the way your American ‘accent’ also seems a little too rehearsed.

You hadn’t been given an entire cover story, mainly because the point was to complete the mission before you would need to explain yourself to someone, but it had been recommended that you take on some kind of alternate identity. You weren’t going to alter your appearance in any way, so the next best thing was adopting an accent for the night. Okoye had critiqued the accent you had chosen- a woman from the southern states who shortened words to fewer syllables and who also held a rather charming drawl- and had told you that while it was always better to be prepared, you may not even have to use it. And while you were perfectly content using it just this once to order a drink, solely to keep up appearances, you admittedly found yourself wanting to look over at Shuri to see her reaction to the unfamiliar accent that left your mouth.

Though it turns out that you wouldn’t have to look at her, as a confused sound echoed through your comms right after you spoke.

“Since when were you a Southern bell?”

“Uh, about a minute ago, it seems,” You mumbled, knowing that she’d be able to hear you regardless. Between one glance around the room and the next, a glass was being pushed toward you on a small napkin. You only had time to send an appreciative smile before the bartender was off to the next drink.

“And since when do we drink on missions?”

The urge to roll your eyes at Shuri’s teasing, yet curious, voice goes through you as you turn on your stool to face the room. With your back leaning against the edge of the bar, you give off the perfect appearance that you’re simply people-watching and not at all like you’re waiting on your cue to slip out of the large room and into a secured one.

“Y’all may not drink on missions, but this is my first one, so I think I have an excuse.”

“...Did you just call us ‘y’all’? Okoye, did you hear her-”

“You two are doing a lot of talking for two people who are in public.”

You make it a point to stop talking immediately, your smile growing as you offer it as a greeting to whoever’s eyes you catch. You also know that Okoye has a point and that no matter how hard you tried to seem subtle, there was always someone watching, and the last thing you needed was to be seen seemingly talking to empty air.

But in the absence of you and Shuri’s talking, you opt to let your eyes slowly roam over to where you had last seen her, which was a mistake. One that you couldn’t take back. One that you didn’t know if you wanted to take back.

Almost as if to make the mission even more difficult, the universe decides to put you and Shuri in the perfect spots on opposite sides of the room that allow you a full and unobscured view of her. The last you had seen of her had been before the gala, where she had worn a white, almost skin-tight crop top, with a black, unbuttoned collared shirt over it, and black joggers.

That outfit contrasted greatly with the suit she wore now in the best way imaginable.

The suit itself was a deep black, the collar a smooth silk material that brought out every tone of melanin that had the pleasure of being on her body. A number of jewels, undoubtedly vibranium, wrapped over and under her shoulders before forming a harness-like piece on her back…which also allowed one’s eyes a glimpse at the smooth, toned skin of her back.

Even from where you sat, you could see the sparkle of each jewel she wore- including the ones she wore as earrings. Despite the sparkles that screamed luxury and that caught the attention of nearby attendees, you were focused on her. It was hard not to; especially when she looked as good as she did.

The gloss layered on her lips reflected the slightly dimmed lights of the ballroom, and each time she nodded or moved even slightly, that same light reflected off of her smooth skin, acting as an immediate beacon for your eyes.

How in Bast’s name were you expected to go about this mission regularly when you now couldn’t tear your eyes away from her? How would you be able to convince yourself that these feelings of yours were nothing but a phase that you *needed* to get out of?

“-/N? Y/N, are you in position?”

Okoye’s voice and her words quickly broke you out of your…reverie? Daydream? Fantasy? Whatever it was, and only thrust you into another reverie. One that involved your own worries about being able to complete your part of the mission.

“I am.”

“Good, because you’ve got about a minute and 30 seconds to get to the target area. The camera feed is replaced.”

It's almost as if she literally lit a fire under your ass with the way you downed the small glass of liquor, trying your hardest to not make a face at the burn of it, before standing from your stool. Your eyes glanced once more in Shuri’s direction, only to realize with a small jolt that she was already looking at you with an undecipherable expression.

Her eyes were unabashed as they regarded you across the room, and if you were close enough, you would’ve seen the reassurance in them. It was no secret that you were more than a little nervous about this…but there was no time to dwell on those nerves. Not anymore.

“Alright. Heading up now.”

With every step you took toward the hallway, you sent a quick prayer to Bast, praying that you wouldn’t be stopped. You had seen multiple attendees pass through the doors leading to the hallways, and it was just your luck that there was also a stairwell that lead right to the floor you needed to go to. And it was an even bigger stroke of luck that the hallway was empty for the time being, allowing you to slip into the stairwell and ascend the stairs to the right floor.

You didn’t realize that you were holding your breath until you finally let go of it with a heavy sigh once the door shut behind you. The room was just the way you all expected it to be; filled with a variety of technology that looked too expensive and too advanced to be legal in the hands of its owner. The reason behind your presence just further proved that it was in the wrong hands, as a piece of technology in this room had been behind the momentary breach.

“I’ve reached the target area. Scanning for the breach’s origin.” The scan consisted of a quick tap to one of your kimoyo beads and watching as it sent out a beam of light that roamed over the entire room. Once the origin was located, the beam stopped, pointing you right in the direction and allowing you to start the next part of the mission. “I’ll alert you when I’ve downloaded the program…hello?”

The confusion in your voice quickly gave way to caution as you waited, and failed, to hear a response from either Shuri or Okoye. Their silence didn’t stop your fingers from flying over the keys of the nearest computer, effortlessly breaking through each security wall that needed to be broken and patching each one that would keep your presence a secret. While the thought of you suddenly being alone without a clue as to what Shuri or Okoye were doing made you nervous, that didn’t take away from the fact that you had a job to do. It certainly made it easier to focus on the task at hand as you rifled through the various programs on the computer, each one more advanced and more invasive than the last. Wakanda hadn’t been the only nation the program had breached, but it had certainly been the hardest.

Your eyes expertly scanned over every bit of information you could retain as your kimoyo bracelet downloaded the needed information, and it all made your eyebrows furrow in both confusion and concern. Whoever, or whatever, had created this program had done so with the sole intention of using it as a weapon, and you were willing to bet that their efforts to breach Wakanda’s security stemmed from a desire to get their hands on technology that would help.

“Can anybody hear me?” You spoke softly, quickly collecting your kimoyo beads once more before locking the computer and turning toward the door. Your steps were quick but nearly quiet as you approached the door, your mind now turning to the task of joining the gala once more undetected.

“If you can hear me, I’m on my way back to the gala. Those aren’t just regular programs, they’re some of the most secured ones I’ve seen for an American-”

Your words break off with a hitch as your steps quickly halt, and it's all because of the sudden appearance of a shadow that looms under the door to the room that you’re in. You hadn’t heard any footsteps and the appearance of it has you looking around in a panic, your eyes widening as if that could make a hiding space more apparent. Upon not seeing a space that could serve as one, you reach for the door handle with the intention of locking it…though the knob is turning and the door is opening before you can even grab it, and all you can think is ’I just completely ruined my first ever mission’.

“Oh, thank Bast you’re still here-”

“Shuri?!”

Both of your voices are whispered yells as you come face to face with the monarch, her expression undoubtedly mirroring yours in its exasperation and shock…and relief.

“I was just coming down- why haven’t you been responding?”

Shuri glances back out of the door she just closed before her eyes are landing on you. There’s a certain look of confusion and frustration in her eyes, and you’re honestly too wired to contemplate whether its because of you or not.

“Okoye did a scan of the building and it showed a series of advanced EMP’s on each floor. The kimoyo beads made it past the EMPs, but we think a virus or program originating from this room scrambles any airwave that isn’t configured to the program’s specific signature. As soon as you came in here, your comms went dead. We thought your cover was blown.”

So that explains the wide-eyed, almost worried look in her eyes as she gazes at you. Even in the face of something as concerning as a series of technological programs that could be used as weapons, you still find your heart increasing and your chest tightening at the thought of Shuri being worried.

Bast…you really need to get your priorities and emotions in check.

Your mouth opens, ready to relay to Shuri what you’ve found, only to watch as she tenses. Her shoulders raise slightly as she turns towards the door, her eyebrows raising as she seems to be listening to something you can’t quite hear yet.

“Shuri…what is it?”

She responds by grabbing your wrist, her fingers lowering to deftly wrap around your hand as she pulls you towards the door. It doesn’t take long for you to hear the same thing she hears: two sets of footsteps walking towards the door you two are behind, the wide beams of the guards’ flashlights shining underneath the door.

“Ah, sihogo,” Shuri hisses, her hand tightening slightly around yours as the footsteps grow closer. Her head turns back to the room, presumably looking for the same thing you had been looking for at her arrival: a hiding spot of some kind, or maybe an alternate route. Its apparent the second she realizes that there’s neither a hiding spot or an alternate route, as she lets out a deep sigh before clicking the lock of the door.

“Listen to me,” she starts, her hand tugging you to stand in front of her. Her eyes are slightly wide with the intention of using them to emphasize her next words; but unbeknownst to her, you have no problem concentrating on the words that leave her mouth.

“When they unlock the door, I’ll distract them long enough for you to get past them. Don’t let them see your face or even touch you- just go back to the gala, and I’ll be right behind you-”

“Shuri, we can’t fight our way out of this- that’ll draw more attention than anything!”

“There is no we- you’re going back to the gala- I’ll make sure you get by them.”

The sound of the door handle rattling followed by the confused voices of the guards adds onto the air of chaos surrounding you two. The sound makes your eyes widen while also making an almost absurd idea pop into your mind. Though as Shuri moves to push you behind her, you find the idea a little hard to verbalize.

“Let’s think about this- there has to be a better way than fighting guards in a sparkly suit, Shuri-”

“There’s nowhere to go!” She whispers back quickly, her hand raising and reaching for the necklace that encircles her neck; the same one that holds the nanotech technology of her suit. “We’re cornered in a restricted area. This is the only entrance and exit point-no windows. What do you want me to do, Y/N?”

“Kiss me.”

Her look of confusion is immediate as her head whips to look at you, her body following as she turns completely. Her proximity allows you to see the way her eyes quickly flicker to your lips before meeting yours once again, widening slightly more as she comprehends your request.

“You want me…to kiss you?”

“Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable-”

The sound of the door being unlocked goes through the room right as her lips part to offer another ruse, or maybe ask another question. You wouldn’t blame her; the ‘distraction’ seems like you’re trying to cop a feel on her under stressful circumstances, and the realization that it could be interpreted as that has you quickly shaking your head, your lips parting to take it back immediately.

The last thing you’re expecting her to do is to pull you abruptly into her chest with the hand already wrapped around yours. You certainly didn’t expect her hand to tilt your chin up while her other hand let go of yours to wound around your waist, pulling your waist flush against hers.

You sure as hell didn’t expect your next breath to be interrupted by the feeling of her lips moving against yours.

There are a number of sounds distantly registering in your brain: the door opening, the guards’ surprised exclamations, their stuttering as they grow uncomfortable with the embrace they’ve just walked in on; but none of them matter because Shuri is kissing you. Shuri is kissing you.

Shuri is kissing you, and you’re kissing her back with everything you’ve got, sacrificing each breath in exchange for another second of feeling her lips against yours.

Her hand is sliding along the length of your jaw until her long, slender fingers can wrap around the back of your neck. Her thumb stays right on the edge of your jaw, and she uses it to tilt your head further back. It only prompts your lips to part, almost on instinct, and there’s a small part of your foggy brain that’s urging you to stop before it can go any further. To spare yourself the trouble of accepting the fact that a kiss that could potentially go so far ends up being just that: a kiss done in the heat of both of you’s adrenaline and desperation for some form of diversion.

“Uh, e-excuse me. Hey!”

You pull back with a gasp, your eyes wide as you meet Shuri’s, who are just as wide as yours. Her lips have the slightest shine to them, a mixture of both of your lip balms covering them, and you can only watch breathlessly as she licks her lips with a hitched breath.

“Did you hear me? I’m gonna have to ask you two to go back downstairs-”

“We heard you,” Shuri’s voice is too steady to match the undecipherable expression on her face or the slight shakiness in her hands as she takes yours in hers. You’re being tugged towards the door before you can gain your bearings, and only Shuri’s tight grip around your hand keeps you from stumbling slightly.

“We’re leaving.”

Her steps lead the both of you to the elevator at the end of the hall, in the opposite direction of the stairwell you’d used to get there. The sound of the guards’ confused voices float down the hallway as they close and lock the door behind you two, their gazes staying on you until the elevator opens and you two step in.

Your gaze stays on the elevator doors as they close, your breath still heavier than usual. The sensation of Shuri’s lips on yours linger even when you two aren’t embracing anymore, making your lips tingle. Its borderline disorienting, as it makes your mind replay every moment leading up to and during the kiss in great detail. It nearly causes you to miss the sound of your comm’s device coming back on, Okoye’s voice sounding in you and Shuri’s ears.

”Hello? If one of you don’t respond in the next 5 seconds-”

“We’re okay, Okoye.” Shuri is quick to respond to the General, her voice still low and steady, though if the way she clears her throat means anything, you’re willing to bet that she’s just as shaken at the moment that just passed. Albeit, for different reasons; reasons that you feel like you have to apologize for.

“We’re in the elevator now. We’re on our way back to the rooms.”

The thought of finally being able to leave the gala and this role of yours behind makes a small, relieved breath leave you. But your heart only speeds up as Okoye confirms that she’ll be there as soon as you two alert her that you’re ready to leave; it gives you time to go to your own hotel room, of course, booked under a different name, and think even more about what happened. You can’t say for sure whether it's a good thing or bad thing to do, but you know it’ll happen regardless.

All of your thoughts quickly halt as you feel Shuri’s eyes land on you, and in the small space of the elevator, her heavy gaze feels as if it allows her entire presence to wrap around you.

“We’re going to have to talk about it at some point.”

Her words are patient, though there’s something in her voice that not only makes you freeze but also alludes to the fact that there are more words coming; words that you know for a fact you aren’t ready to hear.

“...You’re right. I want to apologize,” You begin, turning to face her, after schooling your features into one of impassiveness. Nonchalance. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position, Your Highness. But to be fair, I didn’t exactly want to end the night with running in heels while you knocked out two security guards-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Y/N.”

She turned slightly in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed and her gaze unwavering as she did so. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and it only took a quick glance at them to see that they were clenched slightly, the veins in her arms and hands becoming slightly more prominent. Those hands that had just been pulling you closer, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss-

Your breath shakes slightly as you draw it in, and your eyes flicker away from hers. They’re too intense in the moment; you know that they can see each unspoken word and every hidden emotion you’ve tried stuffing down during the mission. You know that they’re analyzing every breath you take and every time you shift, putting all of her findings together to come to the conclusion that the kiss now took over every thought you had.

Your words are a sorry attempt at convincing yourself and Shuri as you reply, the edges of your voice shaking slightly.

"The kiss was just a diversion, I don't know what else to tell you, Your Highness-"

A flurry of movement happens in your peripheral, and as much as you want to turn to look at her, her heated gaze on the side of your face stops you. It takes everything in you to not turn and let go of the words that seem to be trapped in your throat. Instead, you focus on the climbing numbers of the elevator, willing the elevator to stop on the floor that holds both of your rooms. Willing for the doors to open so you can o to your room and maybe drown your troubles and spiraling thoughts in the cheap mini bottles that had been provided.

"You know very well that it wasn't just a distraction, and for Bast's sake, stop calling me that- I hate when you call me that-"

"What, you hate when I call you by your title? That's what you are, Shuri, you're the Queen!" Your heart beats so quickly that you can physically feel it threatening to break your rib cage. It makes your breathing slightly heavier.

"You're my Queen and I'm nothing but a scientist that you like to annoy for some Bast-forsaken reason! That's all I am- that's all we are!"

You planned for your words to be fueled by the irritation brought on by the night's events, but instead, they're only by raw emotion. The relief at finally knowing how her lips would feel on yours bleeds into your words, as well as the desperation of wanting to feel them again; the desperation for her to tell you that you’re wrong and that that isn’t all that you are.

You find your voice cracking in the slightest, and it only prompts a soft curse to fall from your mouth as you turn further away from her. The muscles of your jaw tense as you clench your teeth as if that will hold back the words that remain just at the tip of your tongue.

The silence following your words is deafening, interrupted only by the soft, incessant beeping of the elevator climbing the floors. You have to strain your ears to pick up on the sound of Shuri's breathing over your own, though you don't know why you listen for it. The one thing you need right now is space from the Queen- enough so that you can wrangle your thoughts that you had mistakenly allowed to cross the line drawn between the two of you.

But space isn't what you want, and that realization alone makes you clench your fists hard enough to leave indentations in your palms. It's all in an effort to push back the desire crawling up the length of your arms and the rest of your body, urging you to pull yourself closer to her and continue where you two had left off in that damned room.

But in order to do that, you'd have to know how Shuri felt…and she was still silent, her gaze concentrated on the profile of your being.

The subtle lurch of the elevator accompanied by its ding is your saving grace, and as soon as the doors open, you're hurriedly stepping out and in the direction of your room. Your steps are quick and nearly silent on the carpeted floors, effortlessly leaving Shuri behind to look after you with furrowed eyebrows and a downturned mouth.

"Is it? Is that all you think we are?"

You just barely have your room key out when Shuri's voice floats down the hallway to you, her voice both questioning and frustrated. It grows closer, louder, as she follows you.

"Because I don't. And I know you don't."

With a shaky hand and frustrated breath, you finally swipe it across the door's sensor before pushing it open quickly and s stepping past the threshold. The door doesn't have a chance to shut before Shuri is slinking in behind you, letting the door shut harshly behind her as you throw your bag down onto the couch. There's a line of heat on your back as you do so, courtesy of Shuri's close proximity and the effect only she has on you, and it only makes your actions choppy.

"I know you, Y/N- as much as you may think that I don't." The tense air follows the two of you further into your hotel room, moving and increasing with each breath and each word you two exchange.

It's a tension that had been building ever since you two laid eyes on each other at the beginning of the night, your gazes drawn to the other like a moth drawn to a flame in a darkened room. It's a tension that continues to grow as she continues speaking, stepping so close to you that you can feel her chest brush your back with every breath.

"Like right now. I know what you feel…because I feel the same."

Even with half your mind telling you to step away, to make space for yourself for your own sake, you find that you're unable to move; especially so when she raises her hands. The one that lands gently on your waist is used to keep you in place while the other raises and settles lightly over your heart from behind; it only makes the organ work double time, something Shuri is more than likely aware of.

"I can hear and feel how fast your heart is beating right now. The beating of my own matches yours, and it's all because of you."

Your hands clench into tight fists in an effort to keep them to yourself, disregarding the feeling of unabashed longing that travels through your body.

The way she speaks and touches you is a far cry from how the two of you interacted only earlier that morning. Then, in the comfort of the Royal Talon fighter, your regular teasing and banter filled the cabin with Okoye occasionally telling you two to take a break from said banter.

Now, the dynamic that usually existed between you two was gone. It had been smashed to pieces as soon as you two had embraced in that room and placed your lips against hers, and attempting to pick up the pieces would leave your fingers a bloody mess.

Though as she continues speaking, you find yourself wondering if picking up the pieces was something that you really wanted to do.

"I can feel each breath you take. I know how they quicken whenever I touch you… because your touch does the same to me." Her words are emphasized by her placing her flat palm against the middle of your chest, which proves her exact point as it rises and falls quickly with each, shuddering breath you take.

It feels like a beam of heat traveling through your body, all originating from where her palm presses against your skin. Her breath ghosts over the exposed skin of your shoulders as she continues, leaving a trail of goosebumps that only her touch can soothe.

"And I know…that that kiss wasn't 'just a kiss'. What I don't know is why you won't admit it to yourself or me."

The frustration in her voice quickly fades until it sounds like acute desperation mixed in with apparent longing. Her hands are gentle where they still rest against your body, and even more gentle as she uses them to turn you around to face her.

You're afraid that if you move too much, you'll wake up from whatever dream you've found yourself in, so you turn stiffly and hesitantly. Eyes raising to meet hers, you brace yourself to wake up to the sight of your room back home in Wakanda; but as they meet hers and you see the vulnerability and genuineness that seem so natural in her eyes, your heart skips.

And then when her hands raise to gently cup your face, her thumbs rubbing soothingly and almost reassuringly into the skin of your cheeks, your heart nearly stops. It's enough to make a quick breath leave your mouth, your eyes closing and your head leaning further into her palms.

"You are more to me than a mere scientist."

She tilts your head back, prompting your eyes to open and meet hers once again.

"Yes, I am a monarch. And you are a scientist…one of the best ones I've ever had the pleasure of working with. But that isn't all.

"These labels only dictate how others see us; they don't dictate how we see each other, and I want nothing more than to tell you, show you, how I see you, and how much you mean to me."

The edges of your lips are traced by her thumb as she speaks, sending a very apparent shudder down your spine; one steeped in pleasure and longing that was becoming harder to tamper down.

But then she steps more into your space, every aspect of her being invading your senses. Your breaths mingle in the small amount of space between your faces, echoing each other in terms of heaviness and pace as her hand splays against the small of your back, almost dangerously close to the zipper that holds your dress together. She lowers her head, her lips brushing just slightly over yours with a question; one that sends a shiver so intense down your spine that it pushes you closer to the Queen.

"Let me show you, sithandwa sam."

The roughness of her voice contrasts greatly with how slow and careful her hands are as they explore as much of your body as they can with you still fully clothed. They ghost over the curve of your ass, pulling you closer until your waist is flush against hers. Her eyes are half-lidded as she waits for your answer, though they’re patient. And understanding. The look in them acknowledges that this mission started off as just that, but had now quickly delved into something else.

You’re just barely able to nod when she’s leaning forward once more, her hands slow but firm where they grip you, and her lips soft but unyielding as she places them against yours. The small groan of anticipation and desire that leaves your mouth is quickly and effortlessly swallowed by Shuri’s mouth on yours.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become an echo of the one you two shared under the guise of it being a diversion, except this one is so much more. This one is brought on by nothing but desire and longing that’s been pushed down too much by the both of you.

***

Her hands that land on the curve of your ass trail lower until both of them have a full grip, and she doesn’t hesitate in squeezing and kneading the skin that she appreciates. She takes your gasp and uses it to let her tongue explore your mouth as she walks you backwards, her hands firm while they make sure you don’t trip over anything. Your body already trembles with the anticipation of seeing how far this goes; how far Shuri is willing to go to show her sentiments physically.

Your hands raise, twisting into the fabric of her suit’s coat, using it to pull her impossibly closer. Every sense of yours feels as if its dialled to 11: you can feel every caress and squeeze of her fingers on your skin; you can hear every gasp she takes in order to continue kissing you longer; the smell of her fragrance surrounds you until you’re almost dizzy with the arousal it evokes from you; and the taste of the drinks you both had mingle to make the kiss even more intoxicating.

Her movements are quick with lust but not rushed; she makes sure to take her time unzipping your dress until the fabric is loosely sliding down your frame, leaving you in your black bra and underwear set, though it leaves little to Shuri’s imagination due to the practically see through lace. She certainly isn’t complaining as she disconnects her lips from yours, her eyes roaming hungrily over your body and the skin that's exposed. They linger on each curve, each mark, each dimple- every aspect that has a role in making you, and with every pass of her eyes, her hands follow.

If your breath shuddered before, it all but stops as her hands ghost over the shape of your breasts, her thumbs seeming to pay special attention to your nipples that push against the fabric. Each pass of her fingers over them makes a jolt of what feels like electricity streak through your body, and you don’t realize that you’re pushing yourself more into her hands until her head is dipping.

A throaty hum leaves her mouth as she presses hot, open mouthed kisses against the swell of your breasts peeking over your bra. Her hands cup both of them, almost pushing them together as she continues her ministrations on your skin. Your eyes flutter slightly, though they’re quickly drawn to the mirror across the room and how it gives you a perfect view of what she’s doing.

The sight of you standing before Shuri in nothing but a pair of underwear and a bra while she still wears her entire suit makes another wave of arousal wash over you, and it makes itself known with the warmth and slickness between your legs. Your soft breath of anticipation is only joined by Shuri’s deep inhale that only turns into a groan of her own. Your eyes remain on the mirror even as she pulls back just enough to step around you, her chest pressing to your back. Her eyes meet yours in the mirror before dipping down to take in your body once more, and its nearly impossible to keep your thighs from clenching together, the slightest bit of your stimulation making your breath hitch. But it isn’t enough. It won’t be enough until you’re shaking under Shuri’s touch; until you forget which way is up or down.

She steps forward, using her body to guide you towards the bed behind you, and as you fall onto the mattress, she doesn’t waste a second in climbing over you. Her lips are hungry as they kiss, lick, nip every inch of skin she can reach. Her path takes her down the valley between your breasts, her lips pressing against one nipplie while her hand gently kneads the other.

Her hands are gentle as she uses them to push your thighs apart, prompting a heavy breath to leave you. You can feel your own arousal dampening your underwear…and the feeling of Shuri’s tongue pressing flat against your clit through them makes them even damper.

Your hands immediately twist into the covers beneath you, your hips involuntarily bucking off of the bed. The quick breathing leaving your lips grows closer to pants of desperation as you watch her press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, her eyes closing as if she’s drawing her own pleasure from the taste of you, which she is. As much is evident in the way her eyes open, even darker than ever, and hold yours while her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear. The pace with which she pulls them down makes shiver after shiver wrack down your spine.

“Shuri, please…”

There’s no hiding the pleading in your voice as your voice breaks the heavy silence, and there’s no stopping the way it quickly morphs into a small whine as you see her eyes focus on your pussy before flickering to yours and back.

“Give me a second…” Her voice is a mumble, though you can still hear the slight shakiness of it. Her eyes, half lidded with pleasure, remain on your pussy, as if she has no problem kneeling between your legs for the rest of the night and just taking in the sight of you.

“Do you know…how hard it was, watching you from across the room? Knowing that I couldn’t take you somewhere just big enough for me to have you the way I’ve been longing to? Hm?”

There’s nothing in the world- in the universe that can prepare you for the feeling of Shuri’s tongue licking a stripe through your folds, and the sound that it brings from your mouth is loud and sinful.

She doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath after that. Her fingers tighten where they’re gripping your thighs, and with a small growl in the base of her throat, she’s lifting your knees towards your ears. A gasp leaves your mouth at the action, your eyes fluttering shut as her breath puffs lightly against the slickness gathering between your legs.

“Bast, I’ve never wanted to a rip a dress so badly.”

One of her hands leaves your thigh only to replace it with yours, her fingers guiding yours to hold your thigh in the same place while hers lowers. The sensation of her fingers dipping beneath your folds, gathering every bit of your essence before spreading them. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth doesn’t stop your wanton months from spilling out, just as taking a deep breath does nothing to prepare you as you see Shuri’s head descends more.

The only warning you receive is the soft hum that leaves her mouth, and then her lips are closing over your pussy. Her tongue is dipping, caressing, and licking relentlessly, each lap bringing you to another height of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before…and that you know you’ll never experience from anyone ever again.

Your hips buck as she presses deeper, her eyes closing as she gladly looses a few seconds of breath in turn for a few more seconds of her senses being filled with you. Your taste, the feeling of your hips moving in the perfect way that allows your pussy to ride the expanse of her tongue that she gladly offers.

Time continues to distort the longer she’s buried between your legs. It speeds up and slows down as she uses her tongue and her fingers to the best of her ability to bring you to another level of pleasure, one that has your entire body trembling. It certainly helps that she continues her actions in complete silence, allowing you to hear every hum, grunt, and moan of hers as she eagerly laps up everything you have to offer. It allows you to hear every sinful sound resulting from her tongue or her fingers dipping into you before pulling out.

Two of her slender fingers press past your folds, her wrist rolling and changing the angle of them until her thumb could swipe firmly across your clit, making a ragged gasp leave your mouth. Your walls tighten around her fingers, and it brings a drawn out moan from her mouth.

Its unbelievable how well Shuri is able to read your body despite this being the first time, hopefully out of many, that she’s found pleasure and a strong desire within it. Her fingers separate with each thrust, reaching a depth within you that seems almost impossible and making a band of white appear behind your eyelids.

Your lips part on a number of moans, pants, and soft cries as you try your hardest to hold onto your sanity, though with every stroke, a piece of it crumbles away.

Her mouth is soon added into the experience, covering the entirety of your pussy as her hand speeds up. It isn’t long until your breathing speeds up, matching each thrust of her fingers as she lets her tongue run over your clit in a pattern that's…that's as disorienting as it is intoxicating. It changes from time to time, each lap gaining more meaning the closer you grow to cumming. It takes a while for your muddled and disoriented thoughts to t to put together each rotation, each sharp curl, each languid lick of her tongue; and when you finally do, your breath becomes trapped in your chest, and your orgasm is crashing over you and muddling your senses.

Your mind completely blanks as your lips part on a silent moan, your back arching away from the bed and more into Shuri’s mouth. Up becomes down and left becomes right because…as if to further prove that you’re hers, the letters her tongue spells against your clit join behind your eyelids until they form her name. Her name.

Shuri was spelling her name.

It crests over you in waves, each one more intense than the last as a ragged gasp tears from your mouth. Her fingers continue their motions, rubbing at that spongy spot inside of you that, for the time being, controls every part of your body. You can only hear static, and you don’t know if your eyes roll back completely or if you close them from the pure pleasure wracking through your body, alighting every nerve of yours on fire.

Shuri's hand that that’s holding your thigh moves until it snakes up your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps before settling on the curve of your breast, her thumb tweaking your now oversensitive nipple. It makes a jolt go through your body while also prolonging the waves of pleasure that threaten to drown you.

Your back arches off of the bed beneath you while your hand moves on its own accord, one fisting in Shuri's curls while the other clutches tightly at her hand. Her nose rubs against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, prompting you to pull her closer by her curls.

Your legs threaten to close around her head, but by sheer willpower, you manage to keep them open. But that's before your hearing returns, enabling you to hear Shuri's voice from where she’s still buried between your thighs. Her hand clutches at yours, threading your fingers together, acting almost like a lifeline for when the waves of pleasure finally take you…ironically, the waves of pleasure she’s causing.

"Breathe, usana. Breathe through it, love. Bast…you're so pretty…and you're all mine, aren't you?"

You want to answer, to confirm that you’re in fact hers in every sense of the word, but her actions suck all of the air out of the room. You think that she’s pushed you over the edge before, but then those words of praise leave her mouth…and then she angles her hand in just the right way and curls her fingers…and that's what makes the world fall away from beneath you.

Her words coupled with the vibrations they send through your core makes a choked moan fall from your lips as you attempt to follow her words. Her thumb rubs soothingly against the back of your hand, reassuring and comforting as you sag against the bed, your body shaking slightly at what it’s just gone through.

Your eyes flutter open, looking around aimlessly until they settle on Shuri. Her eyes are already on your face, her lips curled into a small, self-satisfied smile as she kisses your hipbone, then your torso. Her lips skim over each breast before she’s closing her lips over yours with a small sigh. Her body presses firmly into yours, the warmth of her body mixing with yours and only heightening your senses. When she pulls away, her eyes are still dark with desire and longing…infatuation, even, but they’re also soft. Caring. Loving. It makes your heart skip a beat or two.

“You okay?”

“‘M okay,” you reply breathlessly, your head nodding slightly. You want to say that the word ‘okay’ is such an understatement for the abundance of feelings flowing through your body at this moment in time, but you’re too busy finding and identifying the number of emotions in Shuri’s gaze. Each one you find makes your gaze soften more until your lips are curling into a small smile.

“Good…because you don’t think I’m done with you, do you?”

You find it unbelievable how her words are said with a heat that contrasts so much with the soft look she gazes at you with, and your acute surprise is apparent judging from the amused look on her face. It stays there as she raises onto her knees, her hands going to the buttons of her suit jacket.

Despite the heat in her words and the way that heat slowly returns to her gaze, you find yourself letting out a soft laugh, lifting onto your elbows to grow closer to her. You only let out another one as she raises an eyebrow at you, her hands still slowly removing her own clothing.

You can see the question in her eyes, though you only place your hands on her waist, running them up her sides before you can gently caress them over her breasts. The shiver that wracks down her spine makes your smile grow, and your voice is soft but with slightest hint of teasing as you speak.

“I bet you’re glad you brought me on this mission, aren’t you?”

Shuri’s answer isn’t verbal. It’s very much physical. Though she makes sure to whisper a number of affections throughout your night together, the most important one being ‘I love you’.

************

I hope you all enjoyed this! It's been a while since I've written any smut and I know I could've done better, but I really wanted to get this out. I started this one shot monthssss ago y'all, but I just remembered it and wanted to finish it before classes started!

You know the drill! Like, reblog, and please comment! I love y'all's comments! I love the interactions!

TAG LIST FORM

@luvvspice , @motherlanddrip , @vivisspam , @oceean , @sleepystarzz1 , @amaberry20 , @randomhoex , @euph0ricx0 , @motheroffae , @shinsousliya , @mrswrightt , @niyahwrites , @thadelightfulone , @shuriislut , @playhousedistee , @sapppy-cocktail , @honey-teaaaaaaaa , @tchhairbandhere , @zane2408 , @barkbarkbo , @butterflyybabe , @angelsmist , @ventingfanfics , @pocketsizedpanther ,

#shuri udaku #queen shuri #shuri black panther #black panther shuri #princess shuri #shuri x reader #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x reader smut #shuri x y/n #shuri oneshot #shuri udaku drabble #shuri udaku imagine #shuri udaku fanfic #shuri udaku smut #shuri udaku x reader #black panther #black panther fic #black panther imagine

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miryum · 1 year

Note

HI!!!! Good morning/afternoon/evening to youuu! First, I want to say I really enjoy your fics, it makes me feel like I'm on cloud 9. Too bad their just fiction. Anyways....

Idk if you write fics about benny watts, but ig it's worth a shot, I'm obsessed with play date by Melanie Martinez and that song really fit with benny. When benny was only with the reader to practice or play with her but they have a little thing that a couple does but without label. So the ready gets really tired and have a fight with him, and at the end benny told her his feelings.

Really hope you can make this. And advance thank you! <33

YES!!! My beloved Benny Watts!!!! I love him so much 😊 Thank you so much for your words, yet alas, mine are just fiction *sigh* (also, love your username)

Benny moved a rook across the chess board and your face scrunched up. You were nowhere near the level that the great Benny Watts was, but you liked the think you could predict his moves. You had known Benny since you were children, and therefore were able to practically able to read each other minds. That was an argument Benny used many times to rope you into playing chess with him. If you, the person who was able to prophesy his every move, wasn't able to beat him, then he was confident no one could.

You had tried multiple times to get out of playing chess with Benny (albeit thankful that it was a bit of steady income for the two of you, seeing as you were roommates), but he always managed to trick you into playing with him. Sometimes it was through bets, or he got you tipsy, or he simply looked up with you with puppy dog eyes and you melted.

It was hard though, being Benny's friend. You were constantly left alone at the apartment- if you could call it that- and sometimes had to pick up extra shifts because Benny was too engrossed in chess that he forgot to pick up a check. Your friends had urged you to move out, seeing how the stress could get to you, but you refused. You felt bad about the prospect of leaving Benny. He was your best friend, although you sometimes wondered if you were his. He clearly shared a special relationship with Arthur and Harry, simply because they were all the same sex.

And then there was Beth.

You were unsure of when the girl had first appeared in your life; she had just showed up at one point. And you saw how Benny reacted to her.

You were about to move a knight when a knock sounded on the door. Sharing a look with Benny, both silently agreeing to pause the game, you got up and opened the door. Sighing at the character who was waiting to come in, you moved back to the chess boar and plopped back down on the ground.

"Beth!" Benny smiled brightly. You hated him for it. Your feelings for Benny were probably a main factor in why you stayed by his side, even after he had pushed you into the friend-zone multiple times unknowingly.

"Are you guys playing?" Beth moved to sit by you.

You scooted away from her and towards Benny, gesturing to the board and saying, "Play for me, will you? I could never win against the prodigy."

"Hush," Benny took your hand in his. "You were doing wonderfully."

Without another word, you sat back and watched as the two young adults warred in a battle of the wits. No matter how many times you would watch it, you were always awed at the swift, defiant movements that they shared.

An unwanted pang of jealousy wormed its way into your stomach. Why couldn't you've been great at chess? Would Benny than pay more attention to you? And how could he be so blind? Who else had stood by his side for as long as you?

Throughout the match, Benny continued to hold you hand. When you went to pull away, reaching for a book or magazine to interest yourself in, he pulled you back and muttered something about 'his good luck charm'.

Rolling your eyes at his persistence, you shrugged him off. After a while, Benny was declared the winner, but by a slight margin. Even you were able to see how Benny narrowly avoided defeat. He had gotten lucky. Beth thanked you for letting her drop by, saying she had originally come for a book that Benny suggested. After she had left, you started to pack up the chess board. You had come to live with the fact that in your shared apartment with Benny, chess boards would outnumber anything else.

"You alright?" Benny stretched out on the floor, glancing over your figure.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Come on, Y/n." Benny shot you a hard look. "I've known you forever. I can see when something bugs you. Out with it."

"Are you blind?" You rounded on his suddenly, your odd question confusing the boy.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you see what's in front of your eyes?" you pressed again. "Because I don't think you can. Every time that Beth, a lovely girl, no doubt, but only a new, shiny toy to you, rounds the corner, you're transfixed and I can't understand why."

"Where is this coming from?" Benny exclaimed, feeling bombarded.

"Haven't I been enough?" You ignore him and continued on. "I've tried to be a great friend, but it's hard sometimes. It's especially hard when I've been crushing after you for the past few years and you can't realise that I like you!"

"You like me?" Benny stilled, blinking owlishly at you.

"Of course, you idiot!" You wanted to throw the chess board down but knew that a line you shouldn't cross. "We've had some pretty bad arguments in our lives and any other friends would've separated by now. Why do you think I always come back to you?"

Benny couldn't help but let a laugh escape. "You come back to me?" he clarified, shaking is head. "No, Y/n, I come back to you. God damn it, I like you too. Love you, in fact! Ever since I first set my eyes on you. You, may I remind you, had a school-girl crush on that one boy, Jack. So, I backed off. I've been harbouring feelings for you ever since."

You stared at him. "Pardon?" you asked finally.

"I guess I am blind." Benny flashed you a brilliant smile that made you melt. "Blinded by my love."

#benny watts x reader #benny watts #queens gambit #queens gambit x reader #benny watts imagine #benny watts oneshot #literally wrote this in one sitting #not proofread #thomas brodie sangster #i've missed writing for him

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narcissarina · 1 month

Text

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 875

Summary: a happy end.

A/n: hated this, my words aren't wording😭😭😭😭

𝚇𝙸𝚅: 𝙴𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴

Three months later.

Three months had passed, the moment Leon brought you home; your father had been drinking and took days off from his work just to have the authorities search for you. Tears form in his eyes when his little girl was brought home safe and still in one piece, he had the best doctors to tend your wounds and check on you for any side effects.

Lucky for Leon, he accomplished his mission and finally had a few days off from work. He rarely got the opportunity so he took it and spend his day off being your bodyguard, the agent watch you return to your usual spark and glow.

Inside those three months, Leon help you get comfortable and get you a therapist. He stayed with you when you very much likely to talk with the therapist when he’s beside you throughout the whole session.

Your friend: Sarina, cried when you surprised her. She was ugly crying and blames herself for not coming with you that night, it wasn’t her fault, you said to her; “if you have gotten involved, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.”

One of those days, your father filed a divorce and put your step-mother behind bars where she rightfully belongs. About the scientist, you haven’t heard what happened to them, all Leon told you that you shouldn’t be too worried about it and he got it all handled.

You were falling for him, you chose to express your love in silence and Leon caught up to that but pretended that he’s oblivious to it until you confess with your own words.

Finals coming up, and Leon is here when you needed mental support and a tutor—Sarina was here too. Eyeing the two lovebird before her when you said you two should study together, she was silently crying inside and giving a bitter expressions.

It has been one heck of an adventure you never knew you’d get into, once—you were pushing the agent away but failed miserably. He was there when you needed him, when you needed help from your assignments, he was there. When you needed him mentality, he was there. He never turned away when you push him.

Three steps back brings you three step forward.

“do you think I’ll do good?” you asked Leon, fidgeting with the straps of your small bag. Feeling nervous about the test that you’ll take today, you were visibly sweating and Leon damp a handkerchief against your forehead gently, not wanting to ruin your makeup.

Leon’s lips made contact with your forehead, his calloused hand at the back of your neck. “why did you pull an all-nighter if you won’t do good? Why did you wake up and suddenly pulled out all your textbooks and notes and only study the entire day?” he asked, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t the highest, as long as you pass. That’s the only thing that matter.”

You take in his words and nod, you did study all day and pulled an all-nighter—you don’t want to put your efforts in vain. All you need to do, is to believe in yourself. You smiled at him and give him a tight hug, “I’ll be going now!” you exclaimed and run inside.

Leon never thought he’ll be a much help to you, still not admitting what kind of relationship you had with Leon to your father. You still hate him for ditching you and your mother in the past, but that hatred can’t last forever when he’s trying to be a better father.

The agent wish you luck and that you pass, and after your finals—Leon would take you in the D.S.O to hang out with his friends, a friend of his is a friend of yours plus you have quite know them and what kind of people they are, and they’re fun to be with.

He did some paperwork back at the agency then did a couple of rounds with his bike, your message notified him as he drove back to pick you up.

“I’m finally free! Please come pick me up.”

He laughs when you eagerly got on the bike, putting the helmet he had given you and tightly hold on around his waist, “where to?” he asked, “I thought we’re training?” you asked in confusion, he starts to rev the engine and drove off.

Visiting the agency a few times, getting greeted by the other workers there—they have grown used by you visiting with Leon tagging you along with him. All his friends had grown to you and they have thought you different things and about survival or something in their interest.

The agents will teach you basic things for starters, they would help you improve in fighting and how to handle weapons.

You had a great time.

“Still thinking about joining?” Leon asked as he sit beside you and spread his legs apart, resting his elbows to his knees and his gaze focuses on you.

You smiled and fold your arms, “if I’m qualified enough, yeah.”

Resting your head to Leon’s shoulder as the two of you watch the sunset together, free from everything.

You wonder if this could last forever.

Back at Preface and Chapter I.

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doxypsychlean · 2 years

Text

Cupid's Chokehold

Aegon ii Targaryen x Reader

|Oneshot|

Warnings: Explicit language, implied nudity ig?? dude's ass was out for everyone to see in that one scene anyway?

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

A/N: Lol this one's kinda sad...Oh yeah, and no use of Y/N, couldn't get myself to do it.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" She entered their shared quarters, angry tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Aegon!"

"Hm?"

"Where were you!?"

"What?"

She tore the sheets off of him. All he did was roll over and mutter something under his breath.

"Why do I even bother..." She sighed in defeat, crashing down on the corner of the bed. Their bed. At least in principle. In reality, the princess had spent most of their marriage sleeping on one of the lounging chairs they had in their chambers. She couldn't bring herself to get into the same bed as him. Especially when he smelled of wine, vomit, other women and Gods know what else...

"I never wanted this, you know..." She said more to herself, than him. "I would've been more than happier to marry some unknown lord of some unknown pile of shit on the other side of the realm."

There was no stopping now, it all came crashing down. The words kept spilling from her mouth.

"I can still see it. Me and this fanthom lord husband of mine, smiling at eachother, our children running around. A babe growing in my womb. I could've been so happy, Aegon...So,so happy."

Unbeknownst to her, he had heard it all. Red puffy eyes looked back at her, tears creeping their way down his flushed face and landing on the soft pillow under the prince's head. He sat up, hand reaching out for her.

"I never knew... I-" His voice trembling.

"How could have you ever known, you're never here..." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, moving away from his touch. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know my fucking name"

She stood up abruptly and started circling around the room like a caged beast. A pair of crystal blue eyes followed her movements. Aegon could see it all now, clear as day. The pain, the distrust, the resentment.

"I tried loving you... Back when Cupid still had me in his chokehold" the woman let out a bitter laugh. "You fucking idiot, you have no idea what it's like! All I wanted was someone to love me. Someone to fucking love back! If that is love, then I don't know what love is..."

She slammed a hand against the wall, bones shattering. All the adrenaline that rushed through the young body kept her from feeling the severity of what she'd just done to herself.

"Instead I got you- a lifelong sentence. And I have yet to figure out what kind of monstrosity I must have committed to deserve such a punishment."

"Please, I'll-"

"You'll what? Change?" She interrupted. Her voice was barely above a whisper now, clutching her broken hand with the one that was still intact. "Oh, please. You've had all the time in the damn world to do it. You think me yelling at you once is what's gonna do it. Please, Aegon, even I am not that naive."

The prince looked down at her broken hand. He knew it. She was right.

"My dear, sweet Aegon..." The woman grabbed his chin between the thumb and index finger of her good hand, lifting up so he could meet her gaze once again. "You'll spend the rest of your life chasing whores and bottles. You're not good for much else. Remember that."

She bent down and kissed him gently. The first and last kiss they'd shared since the wedding ceremony. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Not long after your pretty silver hair will start to fall out. You'll get weak. Frail. The only children you'll father will be bastards that you'll never meet. And the only person that would have tried to love you for who you were, will be long gone..."

She was at the door by the time his eyes opened back up.

"Farewell, my love."

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the usurper #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd one shot #gameogthronesfanfic #gameofthrones #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #queen alicent #alicent hightower #oneshot #angst

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captainsophiestark · 1 year

Text

More Than Just A Pretty Face

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join MyTaglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians, part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023 which features a ton of awesome creators and runs all year! Go check it out if you haven’t already!

Fandom: Bridgerton

Prompt: Hera; The Queen, Women, Family

Summary: Benedict runs into a woman who might just be the love of his life at a friend's underground artist party, but things might get complicated outside the walls of the artist's haven and in plain sight of the rest of the world.

Word Count: 3,745

Category: Fluff, little bit of angst maybe? Not *really*...

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Benedict smiled to himself as he stumbled down the dimly lit hallway, people crowding in on either side of him. He was absolutely sober as far as substances went, but drunk and giddy on the feeling of being surrounded by so many artists, living lives happily as themselves and nothing more. No expectations of families or the Ton could reach them here, and it was a thrill like none other to join them any night he could.

After making a quick pit stop to grab himself a drink (he didn’t want to spend the night completely sober, after all), he continued to wander the hallways, looking for a place to pick up a paintbrush. This was one of the few locations he felt completely free to do so, with no outside pressures to weigh on him, and he’d be damned if he didn’t take advantage of it.

He swung through the doorway of a salon towards the back of the house and, as he’d hoped, found a circle of canvases around a few models in the middle. He started for an open canvas, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what one of the other artists had painted on theirs.

The light and colors seemed to jump off the canvas, representing the subjects in a more abstract and yet equally beautiful way. The brushstrokes and blending combined into a unique style, truly unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

“This is… incredible,” he breathed, having drifted unconsciously over to stand beside the artist, getting a better look at the canvas in the process. He blinked a few times, trying to shake the stupor, then turned to face the person responsible for the masterpiece before him.

His breath caught in his throat as he made eye contact with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Cat got your tongue?” asked the woman with a raised eyebrow. She surveyed him critically, not looking entirely friendly, and his heart stuttered a little in his chest.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said. Was he stammering? He hadn’t been nervous around a girl since the time when Anthony had been his only sibling!

“What do you want?” she asked, continuing to stare him down mercilessly. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying to gather himself as he looked between her and her artwork.

"I’m terribly sorry to bother you,” he said, clearing his throat and gaining just a hair of his regular confidence back. “I just couldn’t stop myself from coming over when I saw this masterpiece.”

She turned to him with a scowl, but it quickly changed to a look of surprise when she found him referencing her painting.

“You came over here because you liked… my painting?” she asked, her tone an equal mix of suspicion and pleasant surprise. Benedict raised an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided smile.

“Well what else?” he asked, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

The woman glanced down, unable to completely hide a smile that broke onto her face before she looked back at him. “I… historically, when strange men approach me, it’s nothing to do with my skills or who I am as a person.”

Benedict shot her a roguish smile, all of his normal comfort and confidence finally returned. “Fortunately for you I suppose, even the most beautiful woman in all of existence can’t quite outshine this incredible painting.”

She stared at him, her eyes dancing with light and mischief as a smile again tugged at her lips. Despite her best efforts, she was clearly fighting a losing battle to remain stoic and critical.

“The most beautiful woman in all of existence?” she challenged, humor in her tone.

“I’d certainly say so,” he said, beaming at her and feeling a swell of pride at how flustered she seemed to become. “I’d have to go sing the news of who I’d just found to strangers in the streets, but it’s been overshadowed by the news of having found the most wonderful painting in the whole of existence.”

She laughed, and the sound sent jolts of electricity racing through every inch of his body. They shared a smile, and any doubts Benedict might have had about the truthfulness of his statements evaporated. They were facts, and nobody could change his mind.

“Well come on then, you flatterer,” she teased, patting the seat next to her. “If you’re here it means you’re an artist too, so let’s see what you’ve got other than a prolific affinity for flattery.”

He beamed at her as he took the seat next to her, securing a paintbrush and artist’s palette of his own.

“I can’t promise I’ll live up to anything like what you’ve painted, but I’ll certainly do my best.”

She shrugged. “Art is subjective. Anyone who tries to make objective value statements is a fool.”

He laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages.

“I suppose you’re right.”

The pair spent the rest of the night and even the first few hours of the morning painting, laughing, and talking together side by side, making art and more importantly enjoying the creative space and their time with each other. Despite his initial moment of being tongue-tied, Benedict couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to this woman, like they’d known each other for ages and not just a few hours. He knew his brothers would mock him, but with each passing second he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper in love.

When the time came to say goodnight and for each of them to go their separate ways, his heart broke a little in his chest. Still, he said goodbye all the same, both of them promising to meet again the next time one of these gatherings happened. Benedict resolved with his entire being to make it happen, no matter what, and even that was barely enough to actually get him out the door.

For the next week, Benedict found himself completely distracted by thoughts of the mystery woman he’d fallen in love with in a matter of hours. He hardly thought of anything else, and his head was even more in the clouds than usual, much to the annoyance of his siblings. Anthony finally managed to snap him out of his daydreaming long enough to drag him to a long-awaited ball that had been the talk of the Ton for quite some time, although Benedict had done his best to avoid the commitment.

“The Queen herself is going to be there, along with plenty of high-ranking, eligible young women who only come out for the absolute highest society events,” lectured Anthony as the Bridgerton carriage approached Lady Danbury’s house, where the ball was to be hosted. Benedict sighed and stared out the window; he’d already heard this speech a thousand times. “Now that Kate and I are married, it’s your turn to start looking for a wife.”

Benedict rolled his eyes, knowing just how much it would irritate his brother.

“Suppose I want to die a male spinster,” he said, deciding to have some fun bothering Anthony. Anthony, as predicted, glared and sighed heavily through his nose, which immediately lifted Benedict’s spirits. He gave his brother a mischievous grin, and then it was Anthony’s turn to roll his eyes. Benedict’s fun was cut short, however, when the carriage at last arrived to the ball. Now he’d have to suffer through endless pleasantries and vicious Mamas trying to set their daughters up with him for the evening, with no support from his brother.

As predicted, the start of the night was incredibly boring. Benedict grabbed a drink as soon as he was in the door, and spent the next hour or so ducking every social encounter he could. He hovered on the edge of the room with Colin and Eloise, until finally, Anthony tracked him down and dragged him by the elbow back into the main room.

“The Queen just came out with her daughter,” Anthony hissed into his ear as they moved through the crowd. “You need to at least make an introduction.”

“Anthony, I don’t even know where to begin explaining to you how much I do not want to court the Queen’s daughter-”

Benedict had been in the middle of hissing back a terse response to his brother when he caught sight of the woman Anthony kept shoving him towards. Y/N, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and the best artist he’d ever met, stood next to the Queen in an absolutely magnificent dress, chatting politely with a suitor she didn’t appear to have much interest in. His heart stopped dead in his chest and his legs almost gave out under him. Anthony, unaware that Benedict’s world had suddenly stopped spinning, continued to push him over, until Benedict fell forward, almost knocking straight into the woman he’d spent every spare moment and then some thinking about.

She turned to him in surprise, her face lighting up for a brief second at the sight of him before her courtier’s mask quickly dropped back into place. Even that brief crack in the polite, vague interest was enough to make Benedict’s heart stutter in his chest. He just kept staring at her, still a little dumbstruck, until he heard someone clear their throat from his right.

“Mr. Bridgerton.” He turned to find the Queen herself staring down at him with raised eyebrows. He quickly righted himself and tried to regain his composure. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Y/N disguising a laugh as a cough, and had to resist grinning and shaking his head.

“Your Majesty,” he said instead, dropping into as low a bow he could. He stayed down for longer than usual, and when he finally straightened, the Queen looked grudgingly pleased.

“I assume you’re also here to speak to my daughter, now that you’ve paid your respects, like every other unwed man in this room?” she asked, a slight tone of amusement to her voice (much to Benedict’s relief).

“I…” he glaned at Y/N, slightly unsure of himself, but when he found her smiling back at him that confidence immediately returned. He turned back to the Queen, back straight and a smile on his face. “Yes, M’am. I’d love the chance to speak to her, if you’d allow me and if she’d have me.”

The Queen gave him the smallest smile of approval, then turned to her daughter.

“Well, Y/N? What do you say?”

Y/N smiled slightly at Benedict, then sighed dramatically and flapped her fan around before dropping it back at her side.

“I suppose,” she said, flailing dramatically a bit more before taking his arm with a smile. “Mr. Bridgerton, shall we?”

Benedict beamed back at her, his whole body feeling like it was about to combust in the best way possible. They strolled off through the room, walking rather quickly towards the exit to the garden, where they might actually get a bit of privacy. Anthony beamed approvingly at Benedict as they went, and Benedict made sure to shoot him a glare in response.

Every man in the crowd they passed gave Benedict a look to put his pointed scowl towards Anthony to shame, jealous venom rippling off every one of them. Benedict completely ignored them all. He was in heaven, and no one could ruin it if they tried.

Quickly, the fresh air of the garden washed over Benedict, and he took a deep breath in before letting out a contented sigh. He slowed his pace, Y/N slowing to match him as they transitioned into a relaxing stroll.

Once they were far enough away from the ballroom, definitely out of earshot of any nosy, problematic courtiers, Benedict turned to Y/N with an arched eyebrow.

“The Queen’s daughter?” he asked. She turned to him, a slightly accusatory look on her own face.

“Says a Bridgerton son, a member of one of the most prestigious, talked-about families in the Ton.”

“First of all, you and I both know talked-about often does not equal prestigious,” he said. Memories of everything to do with Daphne and Anthony as they went through the creation of their marriages flashed through his head. What nightmares. Entertaining, but nightmares. He shook it off, then continued, “And second, being the second son of a notable family is distinctly different than being in line for the throne, as well as the most sought-after woman in all of England.”

She gave him a small smile, the first he’d seen from her that was tinged with sadness, none of the light or attitude he’d come to enjoy seeing from her to be found.

“Surely you can see why I wanted to escape it all for a bit, then. Most wanted woman for my position and the power I offer a husband, and maybe my looks. Nothing else. Nothing of substance.”

Benedict felt as if an arrow had been shot straight through his heart. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Y/N, who came to a stop a few steps later to stare back at him curiously.

“Have you truly been made to feel this way?” he breathed, his stare never leaving her face. He remembered her mentioning something of the sort when they'd first met, but not with so grave a tone. She hesitated, giving him a scrutinizing look similar to that one a week ago before she'd realized his more innocent and sincere intentions, then finally sighed, apparently deciding to give him her trust for a second time.

“It’s more than being made to feel that way, Benedict,” she said softly. “I can see it and know it in every interaction I have with suitors who approach me.”

“Y/N…” Benedict took a step forward and reached for her hands, his heart squeezing at her words, but then thought better of himself and stepped back. He took a deep breath, then met her eyes, doing his best to convey nothing but absolute sincerity. “I almost didn’t come to this little party tonight, for the same reasons. My brother finally forced me to come, and now I’m very grateful he did, although I’d never tell him that.”

Benedict shook his head, momentarily distracted by the idea of how obnoxiously smug Anthony would be if ever told he was right, then managed to refocus on Y/N and the issue at hand.

“What I’m trying to say is… every time I come to one of these things, especially now that Anthony is married, I have nothing but piranhas and sharks circling me, trying to convince me to marry them or their daughters. I have money, and I’m the next closest thing to the head of the Bridgerton family, and that’s all anyone ever seems to care about.

“I can’t pretend to understand exactly what it’s been like for you, since I have quite a bit more autonomy than you, both as a man and as a second son. But I can imagine what you mean when you say you’re usually looked at for superficial traits and what someone stands to gain from marrying you, and nothing else. And if I’ve ever played a part in making you feel that way, then I am truly, deeply sorry. You deserve far more than that.”

Benedict watched Y/N, his heart absolutely hammering in his chest. He wasn’t even sure what he was hoping for, but her reaction felt incredibly important to him all the same. She glanced down, lips pursed, then met his eyes again with a small smile and that twinkle in her eyes that he’d come to love so much. He could’ve collapsed on the spot from relief and happiness.

“I can happily tell you, Benedict, that you’re the first man I’ve met in a long, long while who doesn’t make me feel that way, and never did. So… thank you, for that.”

He beamed back at her, his heart soaring and making him feel as though he was floating.

“Well, I’m very glad to hear it. Perhaps, if you’re interested… I could do more of that?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing on her lips as she took a few steps closer to him.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?”

He grinned, leaning in closer to her. His whole body burned, and he thought he could see a bit of the same excitement on her face.

“Well, as much of an honor as it would be for me to be allowed to court you the traditional way, it can be a bit… boring. As two fantastic and creative artists, we should be able to do a bit better than that, don’t you think?”

Her smile took on a bit of a giddy quality as she continued to look at him, and Benedict felt himself getting sucked into the same energy, riding high as he continued.

“What say you we have another artists’ rendezvous next weekend, at that same mutual friend’s house? We can find an empty room—surely there will be one in the entire house—and then draw, paint, and talk to our heart’s content. You can tell me about your favorite artists and things to do when no one else is forcing you into courtly activities, and I’ll tell you my favorite ways to upset my siblings and about the time my brothers and I almost stole the neighbor’s dog thanks to a game of dares that got wildly out of control.”

“I would like that very much,” she said, beaming back at Benedict. He swore her light put the shine of the sun to shame, and the warmth emanating from her made him completely forget the cold of the night air in the garden where they spoke. “But I have to ask… what shall we do in the meantime? After all, next weekend is an awful while to wait.”

He could’ve done cartwheels right then and there. Instead, however, he controlled himself enough to smile back at her and speak.

“Well… what would you like to do?”

She grinned, then glanced around their surroundings. Once she seemed satisfied that no prying eyes were watching too closely, she grabbed his hand and pulled her to him, linking her arm through his to return to the way they’d been walking before.

“This is going to be quite forward of me,” she warned, smiling all the same as they resumed their turn about the garden. Towards the far end, they turned back before getting improperly out of sight of any other people, making a slow, steady return towards the party they’d so badly needed an escape from.

“I’d expect nothing else from such a bold, strong woman such as yourself.”

“Well… what if, on top of our unusual form of courting that you so brilliantly suggested… we did the normal, proper society courting as well?”

Fireworks exploded in Benedict’s chest, but he did his best to tamp them down and sound somewhat put together when he responded.

“Do you mean regular courting as in… publicly spending time with each other, after I call on you to make clear my intentions to get to know you and, perhaps eventually… propose?”

Now she seemed to be the nervous one, fidgeting a bit as they got closer and closer to returning to the party. Benedict watched her with a smile, enjoying this brief role reversal.

“Well, I mean, that is… if you’d be interested in that. Of course there’s absolutely no pressure, I wouldn’t want to make you feel like you had to-“

Benedict came to a stop again, taking Y/N’s hands and pulling her to a gentle stop with him. They were only a few steps from the doors of the ballroom now, in clear eyesight of many guests of the party as Benedict smiled lovingly at this wonder of a woman he’d somehow lucked into meeting.

“Y/N… I can think of no greater honor than being allowed to court you publicly, perhaps with the intention to propose. Despite the fact that I will hear endlessly about it from my brother, I am quite confident you would be worth it.”

Y/N beamed back at him, joy clearly written all over her face. The two shared the purest, happiest smiles and held each others’ stares for a few more beats, then finally, Y/N cleared her throat and moved to take Benedict’s arm again.

“Of course, any potential proposal would hinge on our non-traditional method of courting going well,” she said as the two of them at last headed back towards the ballroom.

“Obviously,” Benedict agreed, ignoring the jealous looks of the other suitors around him and the smug expression he could see on his brother’s face even from across the room. “I could never shackle myself to someone without knowing she would be more than a pretty face to stand next to me, with whom I’d have nothing in common.”

He shot Y/N a mischievous sideways look and found her beaming back at him. Then, at the sight of Anthony quickly crossing the room, either to speak to him or to try to speak to Y/N (and either way ruining the moment), he spun to speak to Y/N again.

“So, in the name of proper courting… may I have this dance?”

“Of course you may,” she replied, a happy smile still on her face. He took her hands and they spun onto the dance floor together, then once they were chest to chest to begin the routine, she whispered so only he could hear, “And don’t think I didn’t realize you asked me to dance in order to avoid your brother.”

Benedict gave her a quick wink, then twirled her out from him in the opening moves of the dance. They were a bit sloppier than everyone else around them, which earned them both some disapproving looks from their family members, but neither of them cared.

They were both happy and having fun, and after spending so much of their time in court absolutely miserable, they deserved this. Although they couldn’t spend the entire night together, no matter how much they both wanted to, they took the moments they could and found solace in the fact that they’d be together again soon, and in a place where they’d be in private, enjoying each others’ company for hours with no interruptions. It was too early to declare it to anyone, his brother and Y/N included, but Benedict had fallen completely and totally in love, and he couldn’t wait to spend every possible second in his future with the woman he felt certain was his soulmate.

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yashley · 8 months

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Hephesta, I know something about you.

#critical role #queen by midnight #ygifs #aimee #laura #aabria #WHEN THEY SAY DREAM TEAM THEY'RE TALKIN ABOUT THEM #i'm absolutely obsessed with hardcore laura and aabria with lands on her feet aimee like put them all on a oneshot #everytime I see aimee im hit with a brick labeled im in love with aimee as im wearing a shirt that says please hit me with a brick aimee

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amazingmaeve · 11 months

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A RELEASE

Queen Maeve x fem!reader

summary — working in a bar where supes go to calm their nerves and to blow off steam is kind of nerve racking. obviously saying no to a supe could go one of two ways: they either crawl back to whatever pathetic hole they came out of or they try to take advantage of you, but luckily using the threat of calling the media gets most of them to back off. but when queen maeve come to bar you are in for a ride.

warnings — smut (18+), alcohol, talks of sexual harassment, swearing, and some spoilers to season 3

word count — 4, 743

authors note — yayyyy! Yup another queen maeve fic, I just can’t stop writing her, she is amazing and I love her so much. Also happy pride I know it’s late but it’s here! also not proofread.

Queen Maeve masterlist | The Boys masterlist

You sigh as you walk through the door that leads into the bar. This bar was kind of like your own living hell, but with the paycheck and tips you got, you had decided to stay. The money was great and you didn’t need to worry about paying the bills and worrying how you were gonna find some food for the next week.

But working at Hypnosis (the bar you work in) has changed everything for you.

The Supes weren’t the best, some were nice and just wanted to get drinks and delve in their own self destruction. They didn’t do much; they just kept ordering drinks and you just kept serving them. Those weren’t the Supes you were worried about.

The Supes you were worried about were the ones who couldn’t take no for an answer, who thought just because they were a Supe meant that you would want to fuck them. That you were lucky to even be in their presence, that you should do whatever the fuck they want because their parents/guardians took them to Vought and had them drugged on Compound V.

Most of the time you wanted to roll your eyes and maybe knee some of them in the balls, but due to this being your job you just politely declined with the most fake smile you could plaster on.

Due to the extreme egos of some Supes that meant that you were bruising their own ego by saying no and sometimes tried to just rape you. You usually had some defense like, bringing up the media and calling them. If that didn’t work then you would try to get the attention of the bouncer (who was also a Supe), and he usually took care of them.

If some Supe had raped you, you probably couldn’t even do anything about it since the bar was owned by Vought and most of the Supes that came here worked for Vought. So if you did something you would probably end up in a grave being the worst case scenario, best case scenario you would probably be given some money and sent on your way, with all the trauma still with you.

But the most you got was groping, which just made you go home and wash your body as disgust washed all over you. You knew this job you had wasn’t going to stick forever and you would need to find a replacement job that might even be safer. But employment was a hard thing to find at the moment and for now this was just your normal.

Only a few members of The Seven had come to this bar and most of the time it was either The Deep and Translucent, who were both humongous creeps. A-Train came once and while but most of the time he would just be sitting off in a group basking in the glory of it all, and only occasionally flirting with you. Whilst The Deep and Translucent tried to have sex with you multiple times and it just ended with you just rolling your eyes and threatening to call the media, which made them sit back down and call you a bitch or a cunt because you wouldn’t sleep with them.

So you weren’t surprised to find out that The Deep had done what he did to Starlight.

One member of The Seven you were glad didn’t show up was Homelander. Something about him just seemed off to you, even before the whole sleeping with a Nazi thing. You knew if he came into this bar and he wanted to have sex with you, it was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. No one could stop him.

But lucky for you and every other waitress/bartender in this place, he hadn’t shown up at all.

Due to the scummy people that came to this bar has left you in no other words than horny. You couldn’t find a decent person to sleep with who didn’t try to assault you, or they were too much into themselves to even focus on your pleasure only focused on theirs.

To the surprise of no one the people you had slept with in the past month were guys and you hoped that at least one knew how to please a woman but nonetheless you were left a mess after each and every sexual endeavor.

You’d only had sex with two women in your life and those two were the ones you dated and even loved. But you couldn’t find a woman to sleep with due to you being too nervous to talk to women. It was kind of weird since you were outwardly confident to men but with women, they made your heart flutter that you’d think it would hop out of your chest and hop around. Even if it was a woman you just wanted to have sex with, you couldn’t gather the courage to go up and talk to them.

But you just dealt with the bad sex with the men in the bar and had to finish the job after they left (which wasn’t long).

So you had assumed that this time working in the bar would be the same exact way it goes every time you came to work. You get harassed and served drinks to them and other non harming Supes and maybe end up going home with one of them while you had to jerk off after they left since their head was too big and only focused on their own pleasure.

Walking into the bar, you started to serve the Supes with your fake smile plastered on your face and had idle chit chat with them. Some of them try to flirt with you but then end up being pulled away by other Supes. It wasn’t that busy tonight and you were glad since you were having a stressful day already and didn’t want any more.

Someone had sat on one of the barstools in front of you and you looked up in shock to see the one and only Queen Maeve sitting there with a tight smile on her face as if she’s been in this position before.

Now you knew who Queen Maeve was, I mean who didn’t know her. Anyone who said that were people probably living under a fucking rock. But you had loads of sympathy for her, since Homelander basically outed her on live television.

And you couldn't deny that she was an attractive woman.

You weren’t expecting one of The Seven to come in this bar (besides The Deep even though he was married and A-Train on a couple occasions) and you were shocked to say the least. Shaking off the shock you gave her a smile that mirrored hers getting ready to pour her a drink.

“What can I get you?” You questioned after clearing your throat, finally meeting her gaze.

“Just a whiskey please,” Maeve answered, giving you a once over, which you didn’t pick up on and nodded, going to get a glass and the bottle of whiskey.

Maeve hadn’t been to this bar even though she’s heard good things about it and it was only for Supes so it would be comfortable, but she usually did her self destruction in her own penthouse but after hearing A-Train rave about this place she had to check it out.

And hey if she could get away from Homelander it really didn’t matter.

But something about you made her stop in her tracks. It’s been a while since a woman has done that to her and that was Elena. She didn’t know what it was about you that made her like this, but maybe it’s just because you’re a beautiful woman.

But needless to say, you’ve caught her attention.

“Here you go,” You turn around saying and putting the glass of whiskey on the table and sliding it over to her. She mutters out a thanks before downing the whole thing.

“Another please,” Maeve requests, sliding the glass over to you and your eyebrows jump at that.

“Rough day,” You observe out loud pouring more whiskey into the glass and giving it to her again.

“Rough year,” Maeve corrects before taking a smaller sip of the whiskey before putting it down. “And even shitter day,” She says following it up.

“Definitely can relate to that,” You mutter. “You come with your teammate,” You question, pointing over to the direction where The Deep was hitting on one of your co-workers who looked mildly annoyed.

“Fuck no, wouldn’t follow that guy to the nicest bar in the city,” Maeve say with a little chuckle with a look of disgust on her face. She obviously didn’t like him that much and hey you couldn't really blame her, he definitely was an asshole. “Why does he come here often,” She asks, leaning forward a bit.

“Often is an understatement,” It’s your turn to chuckle now. “Yeah he’s married but it definitely doesn’t seem to turn him away,” You say with a hint of amusement in your tone.

“That’s not a shocker,” Maeve says, taking another drink of her whiskey. “So, how long have you been working here,” She questions.

“A few years, it’s definitely been a ride,” You say leaning against the bar, engaging in the conversation with her. Conversations with the customers was a usual thing and you were trying to tell yourself that it was just that. Talking to a customer to make them more comfortable, but deep down you knew it was something different. “I know it’s your first time here,” You say confidently.

“And how would you know that,” Maeve says with a smile, after finishing her drink and sliding it towards you. You took the hint and refilled it.

“Just a hunch, since the time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you and none of my co-workers mentioned you, but hey I know some people like to keep it low key,” You explained.

“Well you would be correct, I’ve never been in this bar a day in my fucking life,” Maeve responds, tracing the rim of her glass, that had remained full. “But If I had known that someone as beautiful as you worked here, I would have shown up a hell of a lot sooner,” She sultry says, giving you a flirtatious smile.

You give her a look of surprise at the forward response and you can feel your heart start to race. She couldn’t be flirting with you, she was Queen fucking Maeve and you were just a non Supe bartender who was just trying to get by. You bit your lip and gave her a smile.

“That’s really sweet of you,” You blurt out and you're inwardly cringing at the response. Really was that all you could respond to. God this you were such a fucking loser.

“Trust me I can be a whole lot sweeter,” Maeve flirted before taking a drink of her whiskey.

You swallow, starting to feel your throat start to dry. God you didn’t even know how to respond to that and you let out a nervous chuckle at that.

“Uh I have to use the restroom, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” You say lying and scurrying off to the bathroom, where you rest your head on the cold wall.

You felt like your whole entire body was on fire and the whole conversation was replaying in your head and you suddenly felt like an idiot, you were already getting horny from a few sentences.

But you couldn’t help it. She was a very hot woman and you hadn’t had a decent orgasm with anyone in the past few months. The only time you had a release was with your own hand or a vibrator. You walked up to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to take deep breaths.

Turning on the sink you splashed some water onto your face, trying to cool off before you could return and even though you were nervous, you were also itching to get back to her and return to the conversation.

As you were trying to collect yourself the door opened and you turned around to see your co-worker standing there with a knowing smirk on her face.

“You’re being asked for,” Sophie says and you give her a confused look.

“What,” You question.

“Queen Maeve, I asked if she needed anything else besides the whiskey in her hand and she said you,” Sophie answers. “You seriously need to get out there before she starts to look for you herself,” She says, giving you a pat on your arm. “Now go out there and get lucky,” She whispers with a little laugh.

You laugh nervously before walking out of the bathroom and walking around the crowded people in the bar and finally made your way behind the bar and walked to Maeve who, to be honest, looked like she was bored out of her fucking mind.

“Heard you missed me,” You cooly say, as if your own heart didn't feel like it was about to explode.

“Well you’re the only thing in this bar that has my attention so it’s kinda hard not to,” Maeve responded with her own flirty comment.

“Need anything else, I can get some pretzels if you want some,” You ask, trying to shake off the horniness as if you weren’t already starting to get wet.

“Nope, no pretzels needed,” Maeve responds and puts her own hand on your arm, your breath hitched at that. She noticed and smirked. “When do you get off work,” She whispers the question leaning in closer to where your faces are inches apart.

“Uh, not for another hour,” You whispered, after looking at the clock.

Maeve groans. Just her luck. God she just needed you so fucking bad, and it wasn’t the need she had for the guys she fucked and kicked out of her room, you were different. She felt like she couldn’t wait to have you in any way that you wanted.

She moved her hand so that it was caressing your cheek and you felt heat travel up your neck to your cheeks, and it had to be obvious that she could feel it. She leaned in and pressed her lips against yours. Not wasting any time you move your lips along hers and her hand grabs your jaw and you moan into her mouth at the roughness. She slips her tongue inside your mouth and starts to explore the territory.

“I need you,” Maeve groans against your lips and starts to peck your lips. “So fucking bad,” She says in between pecks. If it weren’t the bar between the two of you, she’d start to train kisses down your neck, marking you. You held back a moan even though it was pretty loud.

Before you could say anything, you felt someone squeeze your shoulder and you turned your attention from Maeve to Sophie.

“Why don’t you just leave and I’ll take your shift,” Sophie says, giving you a look.

“Uh yeah,” You say as you feel Maeve's other hand move to your other cheek. “Let’s get out of here,” You say, turning around to Maeve who gave you a smirk.

Your back hits your door as Maeve trails kisses down your back and you let tiny moans that you tried to conceal, due to the fact that you weren’t even in your apartment yet. Maeve's hand moved to under your skirt and started to squeeze your thigh as you felt your panties start to get more and more drenched.

“Okay I need to unlock my door,” You say breathless as Maeve didn’t stop her sweet torture on your neck.

Before you could even try to unlock your door, Maeve moved one of her hands to the door and twisted it and opened the door herself. You looked at her in shock and you were gonna start to worry about how you were going to fix that until Maeve brought you into your living room and brought your lips to hers as her hands went to your shoulders.

You kiss her back, hard but definitely not as hard as her. You can feel her kisses maybe starting to bruise you. You felt like you were going to pass out due to the heat traveling all over your body.

“Where’s your bedroom,” Maeve questions in between kisses as she moves you around the apartment, accidents bumping into a chair and you let out a tiny laugh.

“Down the hall, to the left,” You muttered, wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her again.

She maneuvered you around the apartment, til she found the door knob and opened the door and moved you to your bed. You took your shirt off and your bra trying to get naked as fast as possible. You look up and you didn’t even know how Maeve got all of her armor but you couldn’t think fast as she fell on top of you and kissed you.

You were still left in your skirt but that didn’t stop Maeve as she pulled your panties and the skirt off. She moved her hand to your core as she gently slid her fingers through your folds and you moaned into her mouth as she kept kissing you.

Her hand found your clit and she started to draw figure eights on the swollen nub while you moved your hand to her naked thigh and caressed her inner thigh as you gave gentle squeezes, trying to tease her. She whined your name into your mouth and you gave in.

You moved your fingers across her core as her fingers went to a halt but you didn’t even care at the moment, at the moment you just wanted to make her feel good.

Slipping your fingers inside of her, you started to thrust them in slowly and moved your thumb to your clit as she started to pepper kisses alongside your cheek and your neck as she moaned and whimpered into your ear.

“God your fingers feel so fucking good,” She moaned into your ear as you started to move your fingers faster and cured them into the right spot and she jolted her hips so as she moaned your name loudly.

You started to grind up on her thigh as you felt yourself get more and more turned on. Whilst you kept thrust your fingers up into Maeve and on one particular thrust Maeve squeezed her eyes shut as moaned into your neck. She squeezed her hand around your thigh, that’ll probably leave bruises but in that moment the pain made you let out a moan.

Removing your fingers from her pussy and you brought your fingers to your lips and slipped them into your mouth, moaning at the taste of her.

Meanwhile Maeve recovered from the mind blowing orgasm and began to kiss up your neck and unwrapped her hand from your thigh and slowly slid it up your body, to your breast, where she started to gently massage. She moves her lips to your mouth and captures your lip in a hot kiss that makes you moan into her mouth as she uses her thumb to rub circles on your already hard nipple.

You move your hands around her neck and bury your hands in her hair as she moves her tongue inside your mouth exploring the territory that she's tasted not so long ago. You thread your fingers in her red hair as her hand went from your breast to your neck and wrapped her fingers around your throat.

She gave your throat a gentle squeeze. You felt another tingle shoot straight down to your core as you moaned into her mouth. You moved your hands from her hair to her hips and started to grind them up to her thigh, moaning as you dragged your clit up and down her thigh, you were surprised that you hadn’t already orgasmed due to the sexual tension you had coiled in your stomach.

“God you are so wet,” Maeve moaned into your mouth as she put both her hands on your hips and pressed them into the bed so that you couldn’t thrust up to her thigh.

“Oh come on I need something,” You whined out, deciding to stop trying to thrust up, because Maeve could literally stop a truck with her body, she can most certainly stop you from thrusting up.

“Calm down, don’t worry I’m gonna get you what you want,” Maeve smirked down at you, admiring your body as in this flustered state. “Just relax,” She cooed, before getting up and leaving you confused in a state of lust. “You have any handcuffs,” She questions, making your eyebrows jump at the question. She was looking around your darkened room.

“Uh maybe why do you ask,” You question, sitting up and closing your legs so you didn’t feel so exposed. Now you were no stranger to having sex toys, and things akin to that, you loved being tied down and loved tying people down. With that question she asked still in the air, you could feel your pussy throb at that, you needed something and you couldn’t wait to get it.

“Come on, I know you’re not that stupid,” Maeve teases, giving you a look. You smirk as you bite your lip as you stare at her.

“There’s some in this top drawer,” You give her answer, quietly as if it would disturb the tension in the air. Maeve traveled to the dressers on the left side of your bed. You give her a smile as she pulls out two pairs of handcuffs.

“Looks like you’ve been at this for a while,” Maeve smirks as she looks through the drawer, seeing all the toys inside.

“Come on, I thought you were just looking for the handcuffs,” You say trying to sound strong, but it comes off in a whine which makes Maeve chuckle. You couldn’t help it, you were thoroughly turned on.

“Gosh you sound like a fucking brat,” Maeve let’s out a little laugh as she sat there kneeled besides the bed. You give her a pout, giving her what she thought you were. “Although I think you are one,” Maeve groans as she stands up and you look up at her, excited for what’s gonna happen next.

“You got that right,” You say, batting your eyelashes up at her, as she moves onto the bed.

Maeve lays you down again as she sets the handcuffs to the side, you look up at her as she leans down to give you a deep kiss that makes you moan into her moan and try to reach up and wrap your arms around her. Although she doesn’t allow you to as she moves away from you making you whine again. God she was right you do sound like a brat.

“Don’t worry, like I said I’m gonna give you what you want,” Maeve says, lifting one of your hands and handcuffing it to the headboard and doing the same with the other hand. You shake your hands in the toy as if to show her that you can’t get out. You felt like you were going to explode with how wet you were.

Her hands glide down your body as her mouth leans down to bite at your neck and start to suck bruises. You moan out her name as she pinches your nipple in her right hand, you rub your thighs together trying to have some friction on your aching pussy.

She gives your lip a little bite as her head moves down lower to wrap her wet lips around your already sensitive and hard nipple, as strings of moans keep falling out of your mouth, that you might be worried that the neighbors might hear. But in this moment you don’t give a fuck, you just needed her.

Whilst her mouth was working on your nipple her hand decides to glide down your body to your throbbing core. She teases your folds as you bite your lip and moan, trying to keep you from screaming her name. Her fingers nudge your clit as you feel your whole entire body set on fire. You want to wrap your hands around her. The restrictions of your hands make you just wrap them around the handcuffs and squeeze them. You’re squirming on the bed as you're basically just a mess with her.

She looks up at you from where her head is, lips around your nipple and sucking on the hard bud.

“Maeve,” You moan as she moves her fingers lower to your entrance and then just thrusts them in hard making you jump a little. Whimpering as her fingers already find the precious spot that could make you see stars.

She shushes you, removing her mouth from your nipple. Then decides to decorate your body with hickeys littering all of your stomach as she continues to thrust your fingers up into your pussy, always stopping when she feels like you are going to come. Meanwhile you’re just moaning and groaning as she works her magic on you.

Sliding further down the bed she starts to suck the skin on your thighs and move from one leg to the other, making sure to give them the same amount of attention. You feel her start to move faster making you clench around her fingers as you whimper her name out for what felt like the millionth time. But as soon as she does that she stops and you slouch against the bed in frustration.

Even though you’re frustrated, you know this orgasm is going to be one of the best you ever had in your whole life.

“I bet you taste as amazing as you look,” Maeve mutters against your thigh, making you clench around her fingers and she chuckles silently.

In a swift motion, Maeve's mouth moves to your pussy and wraps her soft lips around your throbbing clit. You let out a loud moan as she starts to thrust her fingers again, hitting that same spot over and over again.

And there it is, you can feel the burn from the coiling tension inside your stomach. You were about to cum and it seems finally she was going to let you. Looking up at you through her eyelashes she runs her experienced tongue around your clit, lapping at it and then wrapping your clit in between her lips again and sucks harder.

Due to the constant, fingering of your g spot and her sucking on your clit and there it is. You arch your back off the bed and finally climax on her fingers. You moan her name loudly, probably loud enough that would wake the neighbors and you would be worried but with the shaking of your legs at the moment you don’t. Even though your eyes are squeezed shut, you can still see stars.

Maeve smiles as she sucks your cum off her fingers and slides up your body and presses her lips against yours, this time much softer than before. You hum into your mouth as you can still feel your legs twitch from the intense orgasm.

“The keys are in the drawer,” You murmur, still feeling hazy.

“No shit Sherlock,” Maeve rolls her eyes and gives your thighs a teasing slap. Which makes you jolt up. She rustles around to find them and then releases you from the toys.

You stretch and sit up as your hands and arms are finally free. You gasp in shock as Maeve brings you down with her arms, so that your head is resting on her chest. Her hands rub down your back in a soothing manner that makes you smile.

“You’re gonna have to stay the night at least, don’t want anyone breaking in with the door knob you broke,” You mutter as you feel your eyes droop from exhaustion.

“Don’t worry,” Maeve promises as she reaches for the blankets and pulls them around the both of you. “I’ll keep you safe and your door knob will be fixed by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Well if you’re staying I wouldn’t be mad if you found some creative ways to wake me up,” You whisper out the tease making her squeeze your butt.

“Is that consent,” She questions with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Definitely.”

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