#avengersimagine

You stare up at him for a moment before it clicks that he’s up, he seems totally fine.

“St-Steve.” A sob breaks the word and he scoops you up off of the floor.

“Hi Sweetheart.” You pull his mouth to yours with your good arm and kiss him soundly.

“I fuckin’ missed the shit out of you.”

“Let’s get your arm taken care of then we can get back into this so we can make out some more later.” He offers and you laugh, you’re fairly certain it’s the first time you’ve really laughed since Sam got sick.

Instead of Skye being shot by Quinn in the first season, it's Reader (Skye's childhood best friend and crush.) Skye being the one to find her, then Skye sitting with R while they try to save her. (Skye then later confessing to R, after she's woken up.)

Shoot Your Shot

Skye Johnson x Reader

A/N - I don’t remember this episode so I’m so sorry it’s short! Thank you for the request :)

“God, (Y/N). Please, wake up.”

She didn’t want to think about it, but the blood - your blood - on her palms made it impossible. She could see the life draining from your eyes as you laid on the cold tile floor, three gunshot wounds in your abdomen, blood basically pouring out of you.

Created: 02/15/21

Last Updated: 02/15/21

Author’s Note: I brought Pietro Back for this.

Summary: After Tony’s funeral, Wanda has a break down. When Westview is created you and Pietro are suddenly sucked into the reality warping town.

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Prompt: You were the daughter of Tony Stark, all you wanted to do was make your Father proud.

Warnings: Crying, swearing 

You stared into the crowd, searching for his face. Out of everyone that had shown up to see your final art piece, the one person you wanted to be there most didn't show. Your face dropped as you stood with your drawing, ashamed that yet again your creation had not been good enough for your Father.

The painting was a 30x40 size portrait you had drawn of Pepper and your Dad. It had been a side portrait you had been able to capture during one of the many balls the three of you had attended together. They had been dancing, their hands intertwined, Pepper's hair curled beautifully, Tony's face unbruised. You hand-drew the entire thing and colored it carefully with colored pencil, the piece had taken you months to create and perfect. You had spent every spare moment you had to make it, you put your heart and soul into your artwork. For months you had reminded everyone in the tower about the date and time of the art show. Every day, you reminded everyone that you wanted them to come out and see the piece. You had kept it hidden from everyone, wanting it to be an anniversary present for your parents.

You adored both of them with every ounce of your heart. From the day you were born and dropped off on Tony's doorstep Pepper had acted as your Mother. You considered her to be your mother, the only thing she hadn't down for you was birth you, but you didn't care. Pepper who was not even biologically related to you, treated you more like a daughter than your own Father did and you noticed.

Out of all the Avengers, Tony was the one that never showed. Pepper had brought you to the show, she waited until you were able to present your piece on stage to see it. You watched as Pepper, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Bucky, Wanda, Bruce, and even Thor smiled and clapped proudly as you displayed your art on stage. The one face you had hoped to see, was nowhere to be found. Again, Tony had missed something that meant everything to you. Your face fell slightly with disappointment, but you quickly tried to hide it with a smile. This wasn't the first time Tony had skipped something that you begged him to be at, his absences started when you were young and still hadn't stopped. No matter how much you had begged him, how many times you reminded him, how many times he had promised to be there, he never lived up to his word. No matter how many times he had put you through the feeling of not being enough, every time you still hoped it would be different, nothing ever changed. After you walked off stage everyone hugged you, patted you on the back, told you how proud they were of you, Pepper even teared up as she looked at the drawing, she had loved it. She pulled you into a tight hug, trying to comfort and thank you at the same time. You did your best to hide the hurt you felt, the disappointment that overwhelmed your body. "Couldn't make it?" You asked the group, not bothering to mention a name. Everyone knew who you were talking about. They all knew how much this meant to you, how much you had begged Tony to come to just this one event. Their faces slightly fell, no one knowing what to say. "You know he gets busy, Hun." Pepper comforted, already thinking of the words she would be having with her husband later. No matter how many times he blew you off, you never complained. It wasn't hard to see that you were hurt by Tony's absences, but you still did your best to keep an upbeat spirit. Pepper had yelled and talked with Tony several times, she had nagged him for so long making sure he would be there for that show. Once again, he had missed it. After the show, the group of eight had offered to take you out for dinner in celebration, but you refused. You were quick to pack your drawing into the back of Pepper's car and hop into the passenger's seat. You sat quietly staring out of the window, avoiding the stares from the other Avengers. They looked at you with pity, as they walked away from the car. Pepper and you drove in silence all the way home to the tower. You exited the car quickly as your emotions began to get the best you. Every time before this, you had been calm and collected, brushing the disappointment and embarrassment off your shoulder. This time it was different, your anger took over and you angrily began to kick the car as hard as you could. Pepper was quick to your side, pulling you into a hug as you began to cry. You sobbed into her shirt, as she held you as tight as she could. Pepper knew it wouldn't be long until her husband's actions got to you, she knew you were bound to break soon. "Come on Y/N, let's go inside and get you in a hot bath. It'll help, I promise." She led you inside, her arm around your shoulders comforting her. The rest of the Avengers purposely sat in their cars, not wanting to embarrass you by showing that they had seen your breakdown. Pepper told Jarvis to bring the two of you up to your bedroom, but Tony had been notified of your arrival and instructed Jarvis to bring the two of you to the lab. As the elevator doors opened, you saw Tony deep into his work. His brow was contorted with concentration as he stared at his suit. He glanced up from his work as Pepper ushered you out of the elevator. "Hey, how was dinner?" He took a double-take as he saw your red and puffy eyes, "What happened? What's wrong baby?" Tony was quick to tear himself away from his work as he saw your hurt expression. He swiftly made his way over to you and Pepper, staring at you with worry. Pepper was angry but knew this was something that you had to get out and talk to him about. Your Dad pulled you into a quick hug but pushing you back by your shoulders taking a once over. He checked your face for any injuries worried that you had been physically hurt. "You don't even know what you missed." You said softly, as you pulled yourself away from Tony's grasp. You tried to push past Pepper but she stopped you. "Y/N you need to talk to him." She gently grabbed your wrist. She pulled you slowly back towards Tony. Pepper gave Tony a look as if saying, 'just listen'. She then turned and walked into the elevator, leaving the two of you alone. "Did I do something?" He asked confused. "It's what you didn't do," You stated calmly, "You didn't show up." "What do you mea-," He paused, the realization of what he missed hitting him. "The art show, it was tonight? Shit, I'm sorry baby." He tried to hug you again, but you backed away from him. "It's the same fucking excuse. No, fuck that, you don't even give me an excuse you just say 'I'm sorry' and I'm expected to forgive you. Every fucking time I beg you to do something or to support me through something, and you never pull through." Your hurt turned back into anger. You stared your Father in the eye, he was taken back by your sudden burst of anger. You had never gotten angry directly at him, let alone had you never sworn around him. "First of all, watch your language, and second, I'm sorry but I got busy," He laughed at the end, out of uncertainty or disbelief, you couldn't tell. "Sometimes, I can't make it to things." "Sometimes...sometimes?!? When have you ever fucking supported me through anything? When have you ever showed up to anything of mine? I spent fucking months on my art, on your fucking anniversary present and you didn't even have the fucking decency to show up to the revealing of it! I am your flesh and blood and yet the thing that takes priority over your own daughter is that fucking suit!" You screamed at him, your anger boiling over. You walked towards one of your dad's many suits, the suit that made him a superhero. The suit that stole him away from you. "I've supported you your whole life. I didn't have to fucking take you in, I could have dropped your sorry ass off at a fire station, but instead, I took you in and gave you everything you've ever wanted." His words stung, they hit you hard. You spun around to face him, making sure to get in his face. "All I've ever wanted was your fucking attention, your fucking love. For you to show me that I mattered just an ounce more than your precious suits. It's always the precious suits," You growled the last part, turning towards the suits again. "I'm your Father-," You were quick to cut him off. "I'm your fucking daughter." You screamed, as you picked up a wrench off his desk and hurled it at his head. Tony was quick to dodge the metal tool, staring at it as it banged against the elevator doors. It fell to the ground causing a loud noise to echo throughout the lab. Your chest heaved with anger, Tony brought his looked away from the wrench and back to you. A sharp look in his eye. The two of you stared at each other in anger, neither of you looked away. Both of you stared directly into the others' eyes, refusing to be the first to look away. The ding of the elevator filled your ears, the doors opening as Steve, Pepper, and Natasha, jumped out. The other Avengers shoving their way through the door of the stairs. They had heard the wrench hit and worried about what would happen next. They had been watching from the cameras that Jarvis had connected to, too. "I'm your fucking daughter, all I want is my Father." You growled, turning away from Tony you grabbed the stool that he had sitting by the suit. You picked it up and with all your might you swung it towards the computer, then towards the suit. You swung with every ounce of strength you had, ignoring your father's protests. You did your best to put dents in the suit, even if they were small. You were able to shatter the computer, sending glass everywhere.

Tony was quick to rip the stool from your hands, throwing it away from everything. He grabbed you, bear-hugging you as you kicked and yelled for him to let you go. "I'm your daughter, I'm your daughter." You kept repeating the same phrase, your anger, turning into tears as you slowly stopped fighting your Father's grip. You began to cry as Tony held you tight, the consequences of his actions showing it's ugly face. He finally realized how much pain he had actually caused you.

Summary: just some fluff between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark’s daughter. Ariana Stark decided to gift Cap. something special. 

Warning: Implied smut. 

A/N: Hiya! I came up with the idea for this one shot while scrolling through Pinterest. I saw some beautiful pocket watches and I couldn’t help but write something for our very own “Man out of time”. It was supposed to be a really short one shot, but clearly I got carried away! I intend to write more on the same characters. Hope you enjoy it! 

 Comments, and likes are welcome! :)

Ariana Stark stood leaning against the glass walls of her tastefully decorated office. The spectacular view from the twenty-fifth floor of Stark industries was something else altogether. She had specifically chosen this office for its location and the view it provided. It was small, quiet and situated in the corner, away from the bustle of typically loud activities. Almost like her. Although Tony stark, her father did not approve of her choice, she believed in living up to her reputation of being a recluse. Ariana couldn’t help but gaze at the late afternoon sky. It reminded her of a certain blue-eyed super soldier, warm and golden.  

“Martin? What do you gift a man out of time”?

Her personal secretary stopped his work and looked up.  “Sorry Miss Stark, what are you referring to here?

She turned to him with a look of despair. “its 4th of July today, Captain Roger’s birthday. Now, I know he made it clear that he doesn’t want a party or even anyone wishing him but then I thought, that shouldn’t stop me from gifting him something”

Martin grinned at her. He knew that Ariana had unknowingly developed a soft corner for the Captain. Over the past year, Martin had quietly been noticing the subtle changes in the behavior of his employer. To put it simply, the girl with the heart of gold bloomed every time Steve Rogers was around her.

“Stop grinning and help me Martin, I have been wracking my brain for a week but I just can’t figure out what to gift him and a regular gift will just not do!” she walked across the room and slumped down on the leather sofa. Ariana wanted the gift to be special, something meaningful. She knew how difficult it was for him fit in with people. Still, he was getting better, the avengers had become a dysfunctional family of sorts. But, what bothered her the most was that while time had sprinted ahead leaving him behind, he was mentally still a part of the 1940s. It wasn’t his fault, no one had bothered to help him catch up with the ravages of time.

Martin squinted his eyes at her and answered, “What could be a better gift for a man out of time than TIME itself?” Ariana stared at him in disbelief. How could she not have come up with this? A watch would be the perfect thing she could give him! Clearly, being one of the brightest minds of the century had not helped her. She began laughing, jumped out of her seat and shook him by his shoulders.  “Oh, thank you so much Martin, I know exactly what to gift him now! you are truly the best!”  With that, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of her office.

The young Stark walked into the chicest shop in Manhattan, known for selling all sorts of luxury brands. The attendant greeted her warmly and began leading her towards one of the counters. About an hour later, she was surrounded by some of the finest and most expensive timepieces. Some were too flashy and jeweled, while others too delicate and dull. But none of them had Steve written on them. At this point, even the attendant was starting to get anxious. Ariana let out a sigh of defeat and began to wander around the store. She was almost about to give up when her eyes fell on one of the bottom corner shelves of a counter.

She pointed to the shelf and asked “May I see that collection?”

The attendant furrowed his eyebrows “Oh those are pocket watches, they are not…how should I put it? We don’t consider them to be our finest, so I didn’t really think they would be worth your time”

Ariana shot him a cold glare “Why don’t you let me decide what is worth my time and what isn’t? Now would you be kind enough to bring them out?” The attendant quickly lowered his gaze and walked towards the shelf. As he brought out the collection of pocket watches, Ariana gasped with delight. She didn’t even need to see the entire collection because there was one pocket watch in the corner which had caught her eye and she knew this was it. The perfect time piece for the golden boy. Ariana walked out of the shop feeling as if she had found a priceless diamond. “he must have returned home from his mission” she thought to herself. The next stop, his home.

It had been a week since she last met him. They had become good friends over the last 2 years, but the feelings she had for him were far stronger than just friendship. Truth be told, Ariana missed him terribly. She missed his blue eyes that changed shades depending on his mood. With her, they were always the color of the sky on a spring day, soft and clear. She missed the warmth he exuded, the gentle voice he used while speaking to her. With him she could be herself. It was as if time had gifted him to her. It was only when she arrived at his door did she realize how nervous and excited she was to meet him. She quickly opened the small mirror in her compact and adjusted her hair. She knocked on the door and a moment later he appeared. She stood there wide eyed, staring at him with a smile. It was as if Adonis himself had appeared.

“Ana, wow, what are you doing here? Sorry, did I forget something?” Steve couldn’t believe his luck, the only person he had wanted to see on his birthday was this gorgeous girl who had stolen his heart. Steve silently thanked the Gods for sending her to his doorstep.

“What so I can’t visit you unless we have a plan? I’m hurt Captain Rogers” Ariana pretended to wipe tears of her cheeks. Steve shook his head and laughed at her antics. “No, sorry Doll, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting you, come on in” Ariana loved it when Steve called her Doll or Ana, it gave her hope that maybe, just maybe he saw her more than a friend.

As she walked into his living room, Steve couldn’t help but stare. She was one of the kindest souls he had known. What he admired the most about her was that despite being a genius like her father and extraordinarily beautiful, she didn’t have an ounce of attitude or arrogance. Ariana made everyone feel special. She was gentle and compassionate. Falling in love with her was as easy as breathing. It was only because of her that the man out of time began feeling slightly at ease. To him she was perfection. He longed to hold her in his arms, kiss her deeply, and never let her go. But there was just one problem. She was a Stark. The apple of Tony’s eye. Steve knew the fellow Avenger would never approve of “Captain America” falling for his only daughter. Tony already harbored slightly bitter feelings for Steve, the last thing he needed was the Avengers to get affected cause he couldn’t stop himself from falling in love with Iron Man’s daughter. So instead, Steve had chosen to maintain a casual friendship with her. It honestly killed him to have her so close to him and yet so far. He didn’t know how long he could keep up this façade. The captain lead her to believe he was still having a hard time in this century, truth be told, he was. But it wasn’t as bad as when he had first come out of the ice. He was beginning to feel at home thanks to his brown eyed angel. Steve was afraid that if he told her he was doing well, she would stop spending time with him. And that was unacceptable to the super soldier, for all he wanted was to be around her and in her. He had spent many nights fantasizing about her in his bed, against the wall, in the shower and basically in every way he could make her his. He wasn’t proud of his filthy thoughts, she deserved to be treated with all the love and care possible. But, Ariana brought out the side of Steve that no one had seen before. She was everything he wanted, everything he had lost in the past and everything he knew he couldn’t have.

Ariana’s sweet voice drew him out of his thoughts. “Steve? penny for your thoughts?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about the mission, sorry, so what have you been up to this week? Steve tried to change the subject and steer clear of any accidental confessions.

Ariana brought out the elegantly wrapped gift and thrust it into his hands “Well, I know what you said about your birthday but I couldn’t help myself, I hope you aren’t mad at me. Happy Birthday Steve!”

Steve didn’t know how to react. “Ana why? I mean this is really sweet but you didn’t have to get me anything. I really don’t like making a big deal of my birthday”

“Yes, yes, I know, but how could I let you get away just like that? Birthdays are meant to be special and you are special in every way. you deserve the world” Ariana gazed at him with a look of adoration.

Steve stood frozen in his spot. He was overcome by the sudden urge to tuck the loose strand framing her soft features and run his fingers along her arms. He wanted nothing more than to pull her by the waist and press his lips to hers. The ringtone of her phone brought him out of his fantasy. Ariana frowned at the screen. She took the phone call, went to the other side of the room and mouthed a sorry to Steve. It was Tony. Whenever Steve thought about telling his feelings to Ariana, Tony would appear in some form or the other. Steve would curse himself and draw the line again.

Ariana walked back to him with a disappointed look “I’m sorry Steve, but I have to leave right now. Dad wants me back at the tower, he said he needs some help with the new tech”

She looked up at him with a sad smile. Steve internally screamed.

“I was hoping we could have gone out for a walk, but never mind, I guess I’ll open the gift later with you.”

Ariana scrunched her face “Noo please don’t do that. I want you to open it. You can message or call to tell me if you liked it, please I’m really excited. It took me quite long to decide”

Steve lightly chuckled “Ok, Miss Stark I will do as you please” She gave him a satisfied smile.

She picked up her bag and began walking towards the door. Oh, how she wished she could spend more time with her golden boy on his birthday. He wanted to stop her, but he knew there was no point. It was better this way. Before stepping out the door, she turned to him and gave him a warm smile “Happy Birthday Steve! Hope you like the gift. Enjoy the rest of the night, I will see you soon”

“Thanks Doll, I’m really glad you dropped by tonight”

Ariana was contemplating on whether or not she should kiss him good night when suddenly Steve lightly touched her arm and brought his face to hers. Her eyes widened with anticipation and for a moment she actually thought he was going for her lips, but instead, he planted a firm kiss on her cheeks. He didn’t draw away, he lingered for a moment taking in her scent.

Steve knew he was entering dangerous territory, but it was a kiss on the cheek, how difficult could it be? Turns out it was down-right painful. He was having a hard time moving away from her. Her scent was driving him mad with desire. He longed to pull her back into his apartment. Begrudgingly, he drew back. Steve gazed into her eyes and ran his thumb over Ariana’s flushed cheeks “Good night Miss Stark”.

That night, her cheeks remained flushed and her lips refused to wipe the shy smile of her face.

Back home, Steve tore the wrapping paper of the gift and opened the velvet box. And there it was, a gorgeous black pocket watch. The hinged cover had intricate carvings of the sun, moon and stars. Steve opened the cover to reveal a black and golden dial. He turned the pocket watch over and saw that it had an engraving that said “For the timeless moments to come-Love, Ana”.

Avengers x Reader Request: Imagine being the youngest Avenger and you go on your first solo mission they wait and worry and think of "what if"s and then when you get home they check you for injuries/ask you how it went like the over protective mommies they are. Thankyou!😄 A/N: This is written as if Civil War never/hasn’t happened & everything in italics is a flashback. This is the last of my old fics, so expect fresh content soon!

   “I can’t believe my baby’s all grown up!”

   “God, since when are you my mom?”

   “Ouch,” Tony said as he released you from a crushing hug. 

   “Back off Tony, you’re smothering them,” Steve quipped.

   “Am I not allowed to be proud of my baby?” Tony continued, fake sobbing and squeezing the life out of you once more.

   “We’re not related, old man,” you said with a smirk.

   “Excuse you! You think I’m old? Have you even seen Clint? Or Capsicle over here?”

   “Hey! I didn’t do anything!” Clint interjected.

   Steve ignored the bickering and Tony’s comment. “Y/N, just be safe. And remember your training.”

   “Way to ruin the fun, gramps.” 

   “Tony! Make old jokes either about me or Steve! It’s confusing,” Clint complained before continuing in a lower tone, “Preferably Steve...”

    Natasha rolled her eyes. “Just remember the break-someone’s-neck-with-your-thighs trick I taught you,” she said before patting you on the back and sauntering away to do god knows what. 

   Wanda hugged you, and Vision was there to see you off with everyone else.

      That was pretty much all you remember before you boarded the quinjet and were dropped off at your location. You had infiltrated a Hydra base and worked your way up in the ranks during the months-long mission, all the while trying to avoid unnecessary attention so as to not blow your cover. The training was brutal, the people cold, and the buildings colder. You had been sent on this mission because you were the least recognisable of the Avengers, being the youngest and most protected, so you were the least risky option. Your mission had been a success so far, gaining Hydra’s trust in order to gain access to information the Avengers needed. 

   Unfortunately, just before you were supposed to be extracted, it all went to shit. One of your newly-minted coworkers in Hydra apparently had an uncontrollable desire to impress the higher ups, and he had taken your picture, searched Hydra’s database for matches, and eventually found what he needed to take you down. You, of course, bugged essential offices in the building, and knew what was coming for you. 

   You immediately grabbed your collected intel, and began to make your way out of the base as inconspicuously as possible - and that was when the lockdown hit. You had to fight your way out now, and it wasn’t easy.

   Thirteen hours later, the quinjet arrived at Avengers tower. You were exhausted, more than happy to be home, and ready to sleep in your own bed for the first time in forever. 

   The back hatch opened and you began to walk down the ramp when suddenly you heard cheers and shouts of joy. Your team had been awaiting your return; everyone had stayed up to greet you. 

   The first one to hug you was Natasha as you whispered to her, “I did the thigh trick. Twice.” She smirked and stepped aside to let Steve and Tony crush you in a giant hug. 

   “Oh my god Y/N is that you? I forgot what you looked like! It’s been years since I last saw you!” Tony overdramatically sobbed, while Steve just said “You did good, kid,” and patted you on the head.

   “You seem to have succeeded and for that I congratulate you,” Vision stated with as close to a smile as he gets. 

   Wanda practically ran to you and started checking for injuries while Clint strolled up to you and put his arm around your shoulder.

   “I want to hear all about it! Don’t leave out anything! Ooh, were there boys?”

   “Clint! I’m too tired for this,” you yawned.

   “Hi too tired for this, I’m Clint.”

   “Oh my god.”

   As the night unfolded around you, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have such an amazing team, or rather such a beautifully dysfunctional family.

picture by Vashti Harrison

@chaneajoyyy and  @shaekingitup  quarantine writing challenge!

 Cold Coffee

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- guarded heart, Avengers

:Infinity War spoilers, Avengers:Endgame spoilers , mentions of death, emotional, fihgting, years fo denial, anger, strong emotional content, regret.

The coffee maker slowly lets the last drop of dark, bitter coffee fall into your pristine, green cup before you shut off the coffee maker in the student center lounge.

   It’s well after midnight, and ideally , you should have been back in your bed and fast asleep in your bed by now.

   Yet, here you are, straining your eyes under fluorescent light to study for your final the next day.  The only fuel that you’ve ingested since at least 9:30 in the evening has been one energy bar, and countless cups of coffee as you fight your battle against your worst enemy in your college days- Final. Exams.

The jet black words on the off-white page seem to be mocking you, laughing at your attempts to remember which formulas to use for what, your pencil lead and erase slowly whittling away as you write, erase, write again.

   ‘’Okay,’’ you speak more to yourself than the empty commons area, ‘’Let’s see if you got this one correct.’’

   A glance into the answers at the back of the book let you know that… no. You did not get this correct. You miss, miscalculate, misunderstood. Something.

   ‘’I’m going to be here all night,’’ you groan, placing your head in your hands, somehow willing yourself to keep studying when you want to give up.

   ‘’Um… if you are going to be here all night, I hope you don’t mind some company.’’

   You look up from the distress-inducing objects that are your math book and notes to see a young man standing there, laptop and books tucked neatly under his arms.

   He’s someone that you recognize from your Monday and Wednesday, nine a.m. lessons. He’s standing before you dressed in a plain t-shirt, green plaid pajama pants, and… are those bunny slippers.

   ‘’Ignore the slippers. They were the cheapest things at the campus store,’’ he speaks by way of explanation, ‘’Um, anyway. Do you mind if I join you?’’

   ‘’Um… no. No, not at all,’’ you motion to the seat across from you, watching as he pulls the red, plastic chair across the floor to sit down, ‘’At least now, someone is here to wake me up if I fall asleep.’’

   ‘’Not if I fall asleep first,’’ he smirks, a crooked grin illuminated by the lights of the enar empty student center, ‘’I know that we have met in class. Well, we have seen each other in class. But we have not met before. I am T’Challa.’’

   T’Challa- his name is as beautiful, simple yet complex. He speaks with a confidence that could only be birthed from within, not willing to reconstruct it in order to make it make sense to those who don’t care to attempt the three-syllable moniker.

   ‘’T’Challa,’’ you speak, his name somehow leaving a sweet taste on your tongue as you say it, ‘’It is nice to meet you, T’Challa.’’

   ‘’It is nice to meet you, too. I would like to stop calling you, ‘That girl that knows all the answers’. May I have a name?’’

   Much like you, T’Challa lets your name roll on his tongue as he speaks it, enjoying the way it falls out of his mouth, ‘’How beautiful. Well, we have our final exam in just a few hours. I suggest we study.’’

   So the two of you sit there, pouring over your notes and discussing the formulas and how best to remember them.

   ‘’I think that I am going to make a cup of coffee, ‘’T’Challa stands, stretching golden brown arms up to the sky as he stands, the plastic chair yet again scraping against the cold tile floors, ‘’Would you like a cup?’’

   You look to where you’ve somehow finished your entire cup of coffee in the last forty-five minutes, nodding as you do.

   T’Challa obliges by taking your coffee cup, rinsing it in the sink before turning the black coffee maker back on.

   You watch him as he works, keeping an eye on what he does. He pours the cream, scoops the sugar in, and turns off the coffee maker within a matter of five minutes.

   ‘’If anyone questions why the coffee maker is broken,’’ he begins, gliding back over to you with his coffee and yours in his hands, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips, ‘’I’ll say it had to do with you.’’

   ‘’You’d throw me under the bus,’’ you raise an eyebrow taking the cup from him and thanking him, ‘’Nice.’’

   ‘’This is my first cup of coffee. From the discarded pods, I’d say that this is at least your third.’’

   ‘’Observant, aren’t we,’’ you chuckle a bit, blowing into your coffee to cool it a bit, ‘’Alright. Let’s get back to this.’’

   The two of you spend the rest of the night studying. You take practice tests, review the formulas, go back and forth until you’re on your fifth cup of coffee.  until you look up to see that the clock reads 3 in the morning.

   ‘’I’d better get back to my dorm and hope that this caffeine wears off enough for me to sleep,’’ you take your glasses off, rubbing at your tired, red eyes before replacing them to get a clear look at T’Challa.

   ‘’I agree,’’ he speaks, picking up his third cup of coffee, ‘’As I continue to drink my coffee.’’

   You laugh despite yourself, the sound filling the room, ‘’I guess we’ll just go back to our dorms and lay down. I’ll see you in class, T’Challa.’’

   ‘’I will see you then, ‘’T’Challa agrees, standing again, ‘’Perhaps… perhaps tomorrow, after three, you would like to join me for a cup of coffee.’’

   You hesitate at this. You have one final at nine in the morning, another at 12, and one more at 6. You really should use that time to study. It’s the end of your freshman year, and you're hoping that you won’t have to take any of these classes over the summer. You should stay focused, and leave the coffee date for another day, or decide against it all together…

   ‘’It is alright if you do not want to join me,’’ T’Challa quickly amends, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away, ‘’I know how stressful freshman year can be for people. It is fine. You probably are seeing someone any way.’’

   ‘’No, no. I’m single. It’s just that…’’

   You came to college with the goal of focusing on the endline- the endgame. Graduation. You, being number five of your grandmother’s six grandchildren, and the first to graduate from college. It has been drilled into your head for years- books now, boys later.

   You should say no. It is the practical thing, afterall. He’s a sophomore, you’re a freshman. You are still trying to figure things out, taking extra classes over the summer to hopefully graduate a year early and go into the job force as soon as you can.

   It’d be pointless to focus on him… because he has the power to side track you, as you’ve seen in your roommates.

   For all of these reasons and more, your answer to his proposal

   Knowing all of this… you still find yourself meeting this charming, handsome, upperclassman. Over coffee.

   ‘’So, you’re a freshman,’’ T’Challa begins the next day, sitting across from you, ‘’What are you studying?’’

   ‘’I’m a Business major,’’ you reveal, ‘’What about you?’’

   ‘’I am a Communications major,’’ T’Challa informs you as he opens up a packet of sugar, letting the small granules of snow white sugar fall into his coffee before stirring them in, ‘’Where are you from?’

   ‘’Originally, Atlanta, Georgia. My family moved here when I was ten. Where are you from,’’ you question, stirring your cream into your own beverage, nothing the way the coffee and the cream mix together to make your drink sweet.

   ‘’Wakanda,’’ T’Challa declares, ‘’Born and raised until I came here for university.’’

   ‘’Wakanda… wow. I can’t imagine being that far from my parents. I could go home if I wanted- they’re only two hours away. Even that feels like years at times. What made you decide to come here for school?’’

   ‘’A multitude of factors,’’ T’Challa leans back in his chair a bit, ‘’I Have a cousin that grew up in Compton, and I have spent some time here before. He got into NYU the year before I did, so I do have someone here. I also just… let;s just say that my family is very well known in Wakanda. I could not make a single move without anyone bringing up my family and their accomplishments. Here, I can just be… T’Challa. Not ‘ T’Challa Udaku, son of T’Chaka and Ramonda’.’’

   You can sense something leaving him when he speaks these words- whether it’s because he is revealing something that he has never told anyone before, or because he regrets doing do, or because he regrets holding it in that long.    

   ‘’What made you decide to go for Business,’’ T’Challa questions as you replace the lid on your coffee cup, taking a sip and savoring the taste as you do.

   ‘’I want to own my own business. I want to empower young girls, but especially younBlack girls,’’ you give away, running a hand over your cropped hair, ‘’I want them to have the confidence that I did not seem to have growing up.’’

   ‘’I sense that there is a story here,’’ T’Challa guesses, finally picking up his coffee and taking a sip, ‘’I would like to hear it, i you would care to share it.’’

   It’s complex in its simoletey, his response. Just like his invitation to meet him here today, T’Challa’s proposal has a light layer of something else covering it like a opaque film- you can sort of see what it is, but not easily.

   ‘’And why is that?’’

   ‘’I have been watching you,’’ he speaks confidently, ‘’In class. You are quiet, but you are confident. You do not need to shout to be heard. I would love to get to know you better. If you are open to that, of course. No pressure.’’

   There it is again- his effortlessness. He’s so sure of what he wants that he can ask without hesitation. It’s a smoothness, a suaveness that you think he must have been both born with ad had bred into him.

   ‘’What made you notice me,’’ you ask, cupping your cup with both hands, ‘’There are over a hundred people in that lecture hall.’’

   ‘’I know,’’ he begins, staring at the faux-wood countertop of the table that you are settled in, ‘’Like I said before… you are secure, yet you do not feel the need to boast about it. It is something that I like about you. I do apologize if I am coming off strong.’’

    Onyx black eyes stare into yours, something hidden beneath them that you can’t quite determine. There’s honesty mixed with a secret, vulnerability mixed with a strongness that you have not seen in anyone else.

   ‘’And you just zeroed in on me,’’ you run a finger along the edge of your coffee cup’s top, observing the man in front of you.

   You’re pretty good at reading people. You can tell what they are doing, thinking, and if they can be trusted. T’Challa is like a book- he can be read, but you can only go so far before you have to stop, unable to unlock the next chapter until he is ready.

   There is something there though… a story, much like your own. One that you want to read.

   Which is how you find yourself accepting another coffee date with T’Challa the next week, the Thursday before you’re set to go back to your respective homes.

   This is a strange predicament, because you find that you enjoy his company. And, without the threat of a final exam lingering over your head, you see how the clock spins, one hour merging into another, then another, then another.

   Pretty soon, you’ve been talking for four hours, about everything and some things and nothing all at once.

   ‘’So what made you want to cut your hair, ‘’ T’Challa questions after you alert him that the decision had been made, almost on a whim, yet somehow with much consideration, nearly two months ago.

   ‘’I have always wanted to go back to my natural hair,’’ you run a hand over your cropped curls, ‘’In a way, it felt like a new beginning. Starting over. Connecting with my roots.’’

   ‘’How so,’’ T’Challa leans back again, sipping his coffee as the sunlight enters through the window, illuminating his features and bathing him in its warmth.

   He’s beautiful.

   ‘’I just… It was nice. For once,I was not worried about what people thought about my hair, what they thought it should look like. It was invigorating, I guess you would say, to do my thing and have it be done. I have spent so many years just doing what is expected of me, so it was nice to do something for myself.’’

   T’Challa is looking out of the window now, a familiar look of knowingness mixed with an odd sort of desperation etched into his features, ‘’Believe me, I know how that is. I… My family expects a lot of me. It is my duty to carry on our duty to Wakanda. Somehow, though, I wonder if I had the choice, would I choose something else.’’

   ‘’And what would that be,’’ you question, breaking off a bit of your croissant to eat it.

   T’Challa seems to realize what he’s said, almost as if the worlds startled him by making themselves known, outloud, public for someone else to hear.

   ‘’I think that, that is a conversation for later,’’ T’Challa murmurs, looking to his watch, ‘’We should be getting back to the dorms.’’

   As mucha s you would like to press the subject a bit further, you decide against it. You fear that if you try to turn this page to read deeper into his story, the book will snap shut, and someone will get hurt. So you keep your mouth shut about his story, instead agreeing with him, taking your treat and coffees and riding the shuttle bus with him back to the dorms.

   ‘’I know that I will be going back home for the summer, as will you, However, I do want to keep in touch with you.’’

   ‘’You do,’’ you genuinely question, ‘’How come?’’

   ‘’I love your blindness, ‘’ he chuckles, handing you a slip of paper, ‘’Let me just say, we both have a story. I am interested in getting to know yours, and you seem to be interested in getting to know mine. So why not keep in touch over the summer?’’

   Again, you’re a bit taken aback by the calmness to his approach, how he knows who he is, and is willing to put himself on the line to you, someone who is secure in who they are yet is afraid of who others portray themselves to be.

   Because there is no guarantee that the pretty and fascinating cover matches the words on the pages inside.

   Still, you take his number, something deep inside of you beginning to be sparked at this moment.

   ‘’Sure, T’Challa. We will keep in touch.’’

   And keep in touch you do.

   It is strange, you feel, getting to know someone else’s story while allowing your own self to bread so deeply, so completely, so intimately.

   The summer births new notions- T'Challa is sweet, he is smart, he is kind. He mentions volunteer work as though it is his responsibility and not from the kindest of his heart. He offers to come see you when he gets back to New York in August. He shares stories of his younger sister, Shuri, who is his sunshine, his mother Ramonda, who is his comforter, his baba T’Chaka, who is his inspiration.

   You reveal more of yourself, too, slowly allowing T’Challa to take a look in between the lines, to come face to face with who you really are underneath pretty words and flowery images.

   A summer turns into the fall, and your story now has T’Challa written into it, his name so conveniently fitting on some pages of your life story.    

   His hand fits in yours just the same way as you stroll around campus, taking in the changing leaves and the cold chill of the air, cups of coffee in our hands.

   When winter fades into spring, he reveals the truth that he is a prince and that he must go back to Wakanda at the end of the next school year, and he’d understand if you did not want this with him, because it is a lot, even for him.

   His face in your hands, a kiss reassured him that, yes, you’re ready to see where this goes. Because you’re seeing how this story unfolds, and he’s a part of it now- him, his quiet confidence, and cups of coffee.

   A year later,a s he graduates, you meet his family, a milestone added as he begins to bring up marriage over a cup of coffee the next day as you catch breakfast before his flight back to Wakanda.

A cup of coffee serves as his welcoming gift to you the very next year when you step off of that plane and into his arms, ready to begin your life as queen-in-training.

Coffee motivates you for the next five years, the intense sweetness luring you out of bed and into daily lessons, work, and training to prepare you for the role that you will take as soon as King T’Chaka steps down, and T’Challa steps into the throne.

Coffee, as blacka s the light and as dark as T’Challa’s mood lately, serves as the first conversation starter after the untimely death of King T’Chaka. T’Challa, who has called himself off as of late, smiles a bit, shoulders relaxing a bit as he places the document that he’s been looking at to the side.

‘’Thank you, my love,’’ he whispers, taking a sip for the first time since he officially became the king and the Black Panther, ‘’I am tired.’’

‘’You need to rest, T’Challa,’’ you take his face in your hands, looking into his eyes, ‘’You can not go on this way.’’

‘’There is so much to do, entle. Meetings and festivals, surveillance duties… The job of  a king is never easy.’’

‘’That may be, but you’ll run yourself ragged. Then, you won’t be any good for Wakanda because you'll be too tired. Please, T’Challa. Drink your coffee, take your break. We can’t worry about the things that we can't chance… we’ll let our story be written, and we’ll smile again.’’

Those words…

Those very words are what stick inside T’Challa’s head six months later. He watches as you peer into the bottom of your coffee mug before looking up at him, mouth agape as you read the question written in the bottom of said cup, ‘’Will you marry me?’’

Your kiss, your yes, tastes both of coffee beans and happiness, salty with the tears that fall from your eyes as you scream yes.

Your wedding day is no different from any other day that you have spent with T’Challa- you're watching the day, the beginning of a new chapter, unfold before your very eyes, coffee nestled safely in your hands as your stylist does your hair for your big day.

‘See you at the altar,’’ T’Challa had written in that delightfully handwriting that delightfully spidery handwriting that you've come to associate with your soon to be husband.

Coffee, it seems, shows up in every area of your life with T'Challa. In each new story, it makes its appearance. In each chapter, its presence is made known by its significance to a situation. It’s interwoven through your everyday lives, as well as in your special events.

Two years after you're married, coffee is left on the table as the two of you discuss the arrival of the Avengers, and a place for you and Ramonda to go.

‘’I will not leave you,’’ you place a hand on his arm , ‘’Never.’’

‘’Darling,’’ T’Challa sighs, placing a hand over yours, ‘’I am afraid that is the best way. Then, you will be safe.’’

‘’You do not have to do this, T’Challa. Steve and the others can fight somewhere else, can they not?’’

‘’They need our help. And I am going to help them.’’

For everything that he is, T’Challa keeps his promises. He is a man of his word, and he knows who he is. It is the thing that you both simultaneously love and detest about him, because it means that there is no arguing ith him in his situation,

But he compromises- you can stay in the palace, just please, stay there.

‘’You can have a cup of coffee waiting for me,’’ T’Challa presses a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips before leaving his forehead against yours, staring in your eyes, ‘’I will be back before you know it.’’

And you know that he is being optimistic- T’Challa’s eyes shine with hope and he wants it to believe it as much as he wants you to believe it. So he says it with such earnestness that you can not help to do what he says as soon as he leaves you, to fight a battle that someone became both of yours.

So you make the coffee. You make it and you sit at the kitchen table, willing yourself to ignore the way your stomach is twisting, turning, and tossing.

You sit there for a while, and the coffee goes untouched. But T’Challa will be back. He has to be back.

He’s coming back.

A day. Two. Three.

And the coffee goes untouched, left cold, because you can’t quite bring yourself to move it, somehow still believing that T’Challa will come back, will keep his promise, will let your story finish writing itself

It’s sad, funny in a horrific way. Years of building a story were put to an end from one snap, and T’Challa is…

He’s…

He never came back, he never got that cup of coffee like he said.

And you’re screaming at Steve Rogers, five years later, wbcause how dare he and his band of so-called heroes come your way, telling you they need your help? HOw dare they walk into the life you've been trying to build, putting your business degree to use opening a center for those affected by Thano’s snap.

How dare they come and try to interrupt your new story when all they did was burn the other one to crisp, leaving nothing but a simple pile of literal ashes of your love. All that is left are your memories, your wedding ring, the fragments of a cup broken against the wall, that once held coffee that was never drunk five years ago, but now holds years of tears, frustration, anger, hurt, each emotion  shining off of each shattered piece, glistening beneath the light of the room.

‘’On behalf of the queen, I will have to ask you to leave,’’ Ayo speaks, standing in front of you.

‘’We understand,’’ the one you recognise as Natasha speaks, pain behind her eyes mirroring your own, ‘’We are so sorry. And we will make this right.’’

You want to scoff, roll your eyes, and ask her how dare she.

But… but there’s something else there. Something you haven’t seen since you last looked at T'Challa's eyes: hope.

Hope is what made you give T’Challa a chance, what made you accept a coffee date, what led to years of bliss with that man, what led him to fight to keep you and others safe.

   It is the same thing that has you walking into the Avengers’ meeting, all eyes on you.

   ‘’I want to help. I saw something in you that i have not seen in others in a long time: Hope. I’d like to experience that again.’’

   They are all sharing looks with each other, and Natahas is the first one that speaks up, ‘’We are going to bi=ring them back. We’re going to get T’Challa back.’’

For the first time in years, you find yourself believing. There’s a hope there. You’re going to get your husband back, the love of your life returning to your life.

‘’You’re not alone. I am here to help,’’ you respond, a small smile forming, ‘’And I am going to help.’’

‘’If you don’t mind my asking,’’ Tony Stark begins, eyes on you, ‘’What changed your mind?’’

‘’Thanos may have written my story. But if he can do that, I can, too. I’m getting T’Challa back. And the others, too.’’

So this is where you find yourself now- suiting up with one of T’Challa’s old suits, ready to defend and avenge him.

‘’What are you going to do when you see him again,’’ Natasha questions, eyes on you as she suits up herself.