Shang-Chi x Reader

(Word Count: 2.3k)

The morning was just starting, but the city had been awake for hours now.

From the window, you could see the constant flow of bodies moving from sidewalk to sidewalk. You gulped your tea, the warmth traveling down your whole body. San Francisco was always so cold, you thought, but really, everywhere was cold compared to your home.

BEEP! BEEEEPPP! BEEP!

Shaun’s hand was shutting off his alarm as quickly as it went off. You watch him groan and pull himself upwards. There was no shiver on his body as he pushed the blankets back, not even when his bare chest was out.

“You’re the one who forces yourself to get up this early, you know.” You said, watching him wipe the sleep from his eyes.

Shaun held out his arms for you, and you took them, setting your tea aside. The heat from his bare chest warmed you up better than any tea or blanket. You could feel his heart beating, the steady rhythm a dull morning comfort.

“I do like my job, you know.” He says, pressing his head into the crook of your neck, his hair brushing against your skin.

You took a breath as he kissed your forehead, getting all the way out of bed and into his workout. You headed to the kitchen to get ready for the day. Your scarf had fallen off, and it had still taken you time to get used to wearing it again. It had grown out in the three years you had been stateside and away from Wakanda.

…

“I’ll meet you after I get Katy, yeah?” Shaun asked, but he was already halfway gone.

You knew it would make more sense to go with him and you all go together, but Sean and Katy had been friends for so long, you had no desire to step into that time. They’d have to double back to get to the bus stop, anyway, and that'd mean more alone time. A vibration rattled on the dresser, snatching you out of your thoughts. You closed the curtains and locked the bedroom door.

Bitterness sat on your tongue. When this was all over, Shaun would need Katy to get through it. You’d be long gone by then.

“General,” you said, bowing your head in deference.

“(Y/N), report.”

Your General’s face was a welcome sight. And you felt yourself slipping into your own Wakandan accent with the familiar sound of hers. It had been so long since you had been home.

“How is the West?”

“Cold.”

Okoye gave a slight smile, her dark eyes playful, but tired.

“The people still struggle here for the basics. Shelter, food and water, even. Those who were here do not wish to make room for those who were not, and those who were not here, do not wish to accept those who were.”

The General nodded gravely, knowing all too well the problems that have come since Thanos. You and the General were not snapped, and in seeing the world be ravaged with suffering—she sent you and others around the world offering aid. But as no country would want such threats on their own soil, you live in secret, hiding in plain sight.

“And the Outreach Center? How are the children across the water?”

You smile at that. And though your windows and doors are closed for security, you imagine the city on the other side of the bridge—of Oakland and its children.

“We accommodate many there, General. And we will continue to.”

It was true—the center was more important now than ever. When the world was thrown into crisis, no one seemed to wonder about the families and the people suffering and forgotten. Sometimes you’d look at the apartment building of that Erik Killmonger, step into the room where he and Prince N’Jobu watched and lived for so long. All the good of the people, but all the neglect laid at their feet.

You did not like going up there after Thanos. It was all too much to see. And you were all at once grateful for the sound of Okoye calling your name.

“…General, would…Nakia be available for a word?” You asked.

Okoye frowned and looked off towards the side.

“No,” she said, but then she seemed to take in your surroundings a bit more. At your afro, put up in a puff with your curly wayward edges out and free. At the soft t-shirt too big to be your own.

“Report on Shang-Chi?”

The General’s expectant stare was worse than anything your own mother could have done. You swallowed the taste of the leftover sweetness from your tea, still echoing on your tongue. Hearing his true name sent reality crashing down.

“A card. From his sister.” You tell her.

There was a knot in your stomach, twisting and flipping so bad you wanted to vomit. But you knew even that wouldn’t solve the problem.

“ (Y/N). I want to be kept informed… If there is a moment, and you cannot do what is necessary, you will call and I will come.” Okoye declared.

Only the sound of your breathing and the General’s piercing gaze filled the space.

“I did what I had to when my love became my enemy. For Wakanda.”

And you realized then that the General knew exactly your predicament. And that she had lived it—her weapon poised against the man she loved. And through the hurt was unwavering loyalty—for her country, she would act. You wanted to ask her when that man became just a man.

It was unlikely.

“For Wakanda, General.” You replied.

The call clicked off, and you took a breath. He would be back soon, and everything had to go back to the way it was when he left.

But you couldn’t get the look on his face as he read his sister’s postcard. You wondered if it was the same face he would give you if he found out.

…

The bus ride was the same as any other. Katy had been going on about the girl in front of y’all, but you were too busy trying not to look Shaun in the eyes. As if he could see the betrayal written on your face.

A group of men walk up to the three of you expectantly. Not you and Katy, but Shaun. They spoke in Mandarin, but you had to pretend your ears didn’t prick up at it. But they came for Shaun’s pendant, the one his mother gave him.

They grabbed his arms when he stood up. You felt the familiar weight of him drift away as he stepped forward, his body a barrier between you and the newcomers. Katy was on the other side of you, and you could hear the nervous hitch in her breath. You took her hand reassuringly, the other on your sleeve, where your spear sat sheathed and hidden.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

You itched to do something. Shaun could handle himself…but everyone on this bus wasn’t so lucky. The General would pull you the second she knew you blew your cover.

It all went out the window when Katy stood up, outrage flashing.

“C’mon bro—”

Before she could get her words out, one of the men mushed Katy’s head into the bus window. You pulled back to stay out of the fray, eyes darting at every burst of movement.

Shaun was…impressive. Landing blows and dodging the reactions. He made quick work of them, and while there would be a time for talking later, your secret was safe. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Until, it somehow got worse.

A big man, bigger than Shaun, shrugged off his coat. He revealed an amputation where his forearm should have been. A long, thick blade unsheathed itself, and it was charged with some kind of energy.

He made to swing at Shaun—the nagging voice in your head told you to stop, but you couldn’t. You branded your spear, blocking the attack just in time. You heard Shaun’s breath hitch and had to ignore it, realizing the sword cut through the roof! You cursed, breaking the hold and swinging for his head. He blocked again, but this time Shaun was there, fighting alongside you.

The first round of men were beginning to recover when the bus swerved—the driver had been knocked unconscious. In your distraction, the man kicked you, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You wheezed for breath, catching a glimpse of Shaun in the driver’s seat. The familiar metallic taste of blood and a throbbing pain in your cheek brought you back, knocking down the men as they all converged on Shaun.

The man with a sword tore through the bottom of the bus, at the part where one half connected to the other. Immediately you began ushering the riders to the front, dodging the ever widening gap. Katy was driving, somehow. The last one, who had recorded the whole thing, only barely made it.

Shaun was sending men flying from the growing gap, but sword remained a problem. Bracing yourself, you spied your target and jumped into the front car. By the time you landed, Shaun had kicked the one armed man to the second half of the bus. You seized the opportunity, using your spear to cut the connecting bolt.

Enemy dealt with, but the bus was still going uncontrollably. You planted the spear in the floor and stood in the open gap so no one would fly out. Thank Bast Shaun and Katy had figured out how to slow down—using other cars to do it.

When you finally skidded to a stop, you retracted your weapon, and began checking on passengers. You could feel Shaun’s eyes on you, and heard Katy’s terrified voice. But you couldn’t look. At either of them.

There were retreating footsteps and a shaking female hand holding yours—Katy. You blinked in surprise.

“You, too.” She said, wide eyed and panting. Katy dragged you along after Shaun, dread building in your stomach.

…

You and Katy caught up to him at the apartment, where you had so much peace only a few hours before. Shaun was a blur, throwing clothes in a suitcase haphazardly. The postcard his sister sent him in his hand.

“Everything will be fine—”

“No Shaun! A guy just chopped our bus in half! Tell me what the hell was that!” Katy cried out. Shaun seemed to consider answering, but stopped what he was doing to stare at you.

“My dad’s men. But you knew that already, (Y/N)?” He replied, as if the words took him aback as he said them.

You pulled your bottom lip down, the dark tattoo shining in otherworldly light. Shaun—Shang-Chi— that was his name, and you would call him by it. You had to call him something other than what you had been because the way he was looking at you was…not him.

“I knew Shang-Chi was living in San Francisco, but that attack was unexpected. I blew my cover in this country to protect you.”

There was pain and anger in his eyes, so much of it… and hearing his name, his true name did something to him. Shame burned through you—at the lies and the games. But then you remembered you were not the only one with false pretenses.

“You are the son of a dangerous man,” you said quietly, emotion caught in your throat, “My country has decided the world has had enough of dangerous men since the Snap.”

You lifted your gaze to his defiantly—at the man who you wanted to run to and hold and love, who now wanted none of those things with you. You were loyal to your country—to protect the people who had already been dealt enough. You imagined the congested streets, and clusters of people who always looked lost and alone.

Shang-Chi still hadn’t spoken.

“I was…an assignment?” He broke his silence, crestfallen.

“I was only meant to keep tabs, periodically, not—“

“Us. Because ‘I’m the son of a dangerous man’,” He concluded with a bitter bark of laughter. Tears threatened to spill but you wouldn’t let them.

“And would you have told me the truth? You certainly didn’t tell Katy.”

Katy, who had been watching the two of you unfold for a while now finally stepped in.

“Where are you going?” She asked, pointing at the suitcase. You wanted to know, too.

“My sister. They were after my necklace, which means they’ll go after hers, too.” He let out, lost in thought. He hadn’t even mentioned a sister before.

“I’m going with you,” the words flying out your mouth instantly. Shang-Chi shook his head—venturing towards you. His firm no didn’t match the gentleness of his hand on your wrist. Still upset, very upset, but not hateful. He didn’t hate you.

“I came to the West to offer Wakandan aid and sanctuary in a country that was too proud to accept it. I’m so sorry—“

He cut you off with a kiss. A hard, passionate kiss with his hands pulling you as close as you could be. Forgiveness in every lingering touch motion.

“Hi. Still here. Yeah, I know you’re in a moment and this is not at all awkward,” Katy chirped.

You pulled away as heat burned your cheeks, grateful he couldn’t see it. You had honestly forgotten she was there.

“I’m sorry, too. I..never wanted either of you to know.” Shang-Chi admitted, lips a little swollen.

“Plane tickets. The next flight out.” Katy added, heading for the door, probably to get packing. She left and you meant to do the same, but Shang-Chi caught you between the bathroom door and the wall. His hands roaming wherever they pleased.

“My dad. He…”

The story poured out of him, of his parents, his sister, running away. Becoming Shaun. Tears finally fell, and you hugged him as tight as you could. What a lonely, lonely life he’d been living all this time.

“Don’t cry,” Shang-Chi said softly.

“I’m going with you.” You announced, meeting his gaze.

Those soft doe eyes sparkled with emotion. And the balled, shaking fists at his sides. You took them both, waiting for the anger and the hurt to pass.

Bucky Barnes x poc!f!reader

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Warnings: A/B/O verse, no actual smut, talks about ruts and heats, a little glimpse at Bucky’s knot

Ignoring your instincts to nurture those who need it have always been fruitless, especially in the case of the elusive White Wolf.

"Are you lost, White Wolf?" You asked carefully, your eyes tracking the movement of the careful soldier who was herding the goats, your goats specifically. They moved against him, much to his frustration but that wasn't his fault, the goats never reacted well to Alpha's in general.

"No, not lost. Just tired of doing nothin' all day." He shrugged carefully, unused to the light weight on his left side where his metal arm no longer pulled at his joint. You watched as he stretched his right hand above his head and attempted to disguise his attempt to scent you as a yawn.

Anon requested: “Imagine equipping the young justice team with the new gear you made, with the help from Shuri, for them during your trip in Wakanda.”

.

You are the younger sibling of Shuri.

~~~~~~~~

One of the best parts of living in the most technologically advanced country was that y/n often had better gear than most of their teammates. Hell, better than most of the Justice League too.

The downside was that nobody believed that it came from home. Wakanda was still believed to be the poorest country in the world. Nobody knew that it was, in reality, more advanced than most countries and that the king was a superhero and the princess was a technological mastermind.

Or that the youngest child of the royal family was part of a group of superhero teens. Y/n knew that they and T’Challa made their mother worry, but it was Shuri who helped calm their mother’s fears. She was, after all, the one that designed and improved the suits her siblings wore.

And it was Shuri who was allowing y/n to take some armor improvements to the Young Justice team.

<—>

Y/n had recently taken a trip back home and brought back some of their things from home. After many promises to visit soon, a long plane trip home, and popping into the zeta tube, y/n was finally back in Mount Justice.

The team was currently looking at some of the clothing y/n had brought back (not knowing that it all had vibranium woven into the fibers). Y/n cleared their throat.

“Guys? I’ve got some gear improvements from my trip back home.” Everyone stopped admiring the colorful fabric y/n had brought back from home and stared at them in confusion.

“Didn’t you say you live in Wakanda?” Y/n nodded and opened the bag they were carrying. Inside was an array of highly advanced technology (it was some of Shuri’s old projects that she had).

“Yeah, why?” Wally smiles and gestured to the bag of armor y/n had.

“Wakanda is one of the poorest countries in the world. How did you get this from there?” Crap. Y/n had forgotten that nobody knew about Wakanda.

“My sister. She’s kinda a genius.” Dick picked up a glove and yelped when it turned into a mini hand-cannon.

“Kinda? This stuff is decades beyond what the rest of the world has!” The rest of the team gathered around to look at the tech. Y/n smiled and let them, but stopped them before they could test anything out.

“Yeah...there’s one rule if you’re going to be using it.” M’gann nodded and set down some of the tech. Some of it was similar to what the Martians used. She wondered if Wakanda was similar to Mars.

“What’s that?”

“You can’t give it to anyone. Not the League, not the government, and certainly NOT Batman.” Everyone stared at y/n, then Conner spoke up.

“Why?” Y/n picked up one of the shield bracelets and toyed around with it in their hands.

“Because Wakanda isn’t ready to share this with everyone. Not yet.” Kaldur gave y/n a smile and placed a hand on their shoulder.

“We understand y/n.” Artemis nodded in agreement.

“You can trust us.”

~~~~~~~~

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- insecurities, mentions of mental health, breaking up, one night stands, infidelity, pregnancy mentions, reconnecting with old friends, T’Challa is a sweetheart, breaking engagement, Nakia and T’Challa try to work it out

When T’Challa is 23 years ago, he graduates from University with his Bachelor’s Degree.

   When he is 26, he has is Master’s.

   He returns to Wakanda at the age of 27, and is widely received with open arms as everyone has missed their favorite prince. He assists his baba with running the country, as this will be his job as soon as his dad decides to step down.

   He’s 29 when Nakia moves back, and he tries to work things out with her. They really do their best, but she wants to see the world and Wakanda is his whole world. So they agree to just be friends, and she lives her life and he lives his life and it is beautiful.

   He’s 30 when he starts training to become the next Black Panther, working tireom hours training with Nakia and sparring with her, Ayo, and even his baba.

   He’s 31 when the unthinkable happens, when his baba is killed and he must take on the role as the king of Wakanda and the mantle of the Black Panther.

   And today, he is having a press conference with different nations around the world to talk about the future of Wakanda. His mother is by his side, as is his younger sister, Shuri. Ayo, Okoye, and three other Dora Milaje warriors flank the royal family to keep them well protected.

   ‘’Kamaria, you go iht my mother and sister. You as well, Nyala. Okoye and Ayo, with me,’’ T’Challa speaks.

   ‘’Good luck, my son,’’ Ramonda fixes his tie.

   ‘’Thank you mother.’’

   ‘’Don’t freeze while you are up there, brother’’ Shuri teases her brother before giving him a hug.

   ‘’Please, Shuri.  I never freeze,’’ T’Challa insists, ready to take the stage as soon as they are seated.

   True to his word, T’Challa does not freeze the entire time that he is up there. He answers questions, proposes changes, and even cracks a few jokes. He’s been bred for this after all, with years of watching his mother and baba and speech classes and lessons in manners.

   T’Challa mixes and mingles with other dignitaries and reporters, satig that he’ll have someone call and set up the interviews. He’s only been king for three weeks, after all, and he still needs time to get into the role that he's meant to play.

   T’Challa does all of this with dignity and flair and he doesn’t freeze not once.

   That is, until he sees another reporter at the reception at the Wakandan embassy reception.

   A reporter that he has not seen in 10 years.

   A reporter that looks shockingly like… well, you.

   ‘’Good evening, your highness,’’ you speak, and T’Challa can feel years’ worth of memories flooding into his brain.

   It’s overwhelming and dizzying, but he’s not sure that he hates the feeling.

   ‘’Hi,’’ is all he can muster, because you have done what he once thought impossible.

   You have frozen T’Challa Udaku, king of Wakanda, the Black Panther himself.

   ‘’What are you doing here,’’ T’Challa questions, hands at his sides because he’s not sure what to do.

   ‘’Oh, the magazine that I work for sent me-’’

   ‘’No, I mean what are you doing here? In Wakanda,’’ he clarifies, a double meaning to his words.

   ‘’I was sent to interview he king of Wakanda,’’ you explain, ‘’If you do not want to see me, that’s fine. I understand. I can tell my boss that you refused an interview and just go find your sister or mother or something.’’

   Awkwardness situations have always been a weakness for T’Challa, as have you.

   Combine the two, and he’s not sure what he’s meant to be doing. Not even N’Jadaka- who is out of the country at the moment- could prepare him for this, and his baba never had any lessons for him in what to do in moments like this.

   So, he improvises.

   ‘’I will give you an interview. As long as we agree to keep it strictly professional.’’

   ‘’Strictly professional. Got it. Would you mind meeting tomorrow at the restaurant down the street? I don’t want to keep you from partying any longer,’’ you tell him, and he agrees, ‘’Great. Seven o’clock.’’

   ‘’Right. Seven. I will be there.’’

   T’Challa Udaku is a man of his word, so he shows up to the interview. You are wearing a black dress, and you look beautiful, and…

   No. He doesn’t see you like that any more. He is a king and you are a journalist and the relationship between you two is simply to produce an article and maintain professional contact. Nothing more, nothing less.

   ‘’You look so nice,’’ you tell him casually, opening your notebook.

   ‘’Thank you. You, as well,’’ he returns the compliment, since you forced the ball into his court.

   ‘’Well, I did promise to make this interview professional, quick, and easy. So let’s get started, shall we?’’

   The interview goes surprisingly well, him even making you laugh a few times. By the time that the waiter does make it to your table  in the crowded restaurant, you’ve got but three questions left. T’Challa insists that the two of you order dinner- steak and mashed potatoes and broccoli for him, pasta primavera and breadsticks for you, a glass of red wine for you both- and you finish the interview.

   ‘’Thank you so much, Mr. Udaku,’’ you speak,the formality of the gesture significantly painful for you both considering the previous friendship that you two shared, ‘’I think that this shall be more than enough for an article.’’

   ‘’I am glad to hear that. Now that you have what you need, maybe I can ask you a question.’’

   You nod absentmindedly, taking a sip of your water, only to choke on it when he asks his question, ‘’What are you really doing here?’’

   You set your glass on the table, looking to the white fabric of the table cloth before sighing, ‘’Are we being really honest here?’’

   ‘’Haven’t we always, always been painfully honest with each other,’’ he questions pointedly, causing you to wince at the im[lied memory.

   ‘’Right. Well, let’s not do it here. Let’s go somewhere else.’’

   That’s how you two find yourself on the patio of the hotel that you are staying at , alone save for Okoye and Ayo at a safe distance.

   ‘’I know that you said that your boss sent you here, but there is more to it than that. Something that you are not telling me,’’ T’Challa insists, leaning against the balcony, arms folded across his chest.

   A sure sign he’s got his guard up.

   ‘’I’ve missed Wakanda, T’Challa. This is my home, too.’’

   ‘’Fair enough,’’ he concedes with a nod.

   ‘’This place has my family. Foods that I haven’t had in years. People I haven’t seen in years. Including you.’’

   T’Challa looks to you, only to find you staring out at the ocean as you do so.

   ‘’I was not the one that made the choice. And I am sure that your husband can not be thrilled about this.’’

   There. He said it. He brought up the giant elephant in the room,and there's no turning back now.

   ‘’Actually,’’ you breathe out, ‘’Devon and I are no longer together.’’

   You’re not looking at him, but you know that the silence means that he is working on piecing this together.

   ‘’You’re divorced?’’

   ‘’No. I called off the engagement about two years later. I just could not do it. Because you were right,’’ you shake your head at the memory of Devon crying, begging you to give him second, third, fourth chances.

   The same old cycle, the same old mistakes.

   ‘’I did not want to be right,’’ T’Challa sighs, ‘’He should have seen what he had with you.’’

   ‘’No, I know you did not want to be right. You tried to help me, but I pushed you to the side. I finally realized that he wasn’t going to change. That he was so in love with Kelsey. And I deserve better.’’

   ‘’You do.’’

   The silence stretches and expands until it’s covering you both like a blanket, but it’s too hot under there and some things can’t go unsaid.

   ‘’I’ve been working on myself for the last five years. I haven’t dated anyone, haven’t really see the need to. I just got into a healthy mindset. I know whatever is meant to be for me, will be.’’

   ‘’That’s right,’’ T’Challa smiles shyly, ‘’You deserve the world.’’

   His hand is on yours to comfort you, and a bit of nostalgia hits you both.

   ‘Now, can I ask you something, T’Challa?’’

   ‘’Of course.’’

   ‘’Why… why did you wait until I was engaged to tell how you felt?’’

   There it is. He anticipated it, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

   The truth is,there are a million reasons that T’Challa could name- he wanted to date other women, he did not want to ruin the friendship, you seemed so happy, he had trouble admitting his feelings…

   But all of that can fall under one umbrella statement: ‘’I felt like I didn’t deserve it.’’

   T’Challa, like you, has been working on himself this last year. And while a large chunk of his insecurities are long gone and he ha changed for the better, he still has those days where he wonders ‘What if?’.

   Little does he know that you've had days like that as well.

   That you’ve been there too, more than once.

   ‘’T’Challa, you deserve to be loved,’’ you remind him.

   ‘’But I didn’t now if I deserved it from you.’’

   There it is. He’s said it. And there’s nothing he can do to take it back.

   Truth be told, he’s not sure that he would take the truth back if he could..

   ‘’What a coincidence. Because I felt the same about you,’’ you laugh humorlessly.

   ‘’So two people in love,’’ he rolls his eyes, ‘’And they don’t admit it. We’re a movie in the making.’’

   ‘’As long as we get a good actress to play me,’’ you smirk, to which he laughs.

   ‘’Only the best.’’

   And this is nice and easy when it shouldn't be- not after ten years of no contact.

   But it is and it’s similar to what you had before- but something major is being left unsaid..

   So he steps up the plate.

   ‘’I still care for you. I still love you. And maybe we can be friends?’’

   You’re staring at him with a blank expression, and he ant ell that you’re mulling that over, ‘’It won’t be easy.’’

‘’I have never known you to shy away from a challenge,’’ T’Challa jokes.

   ‘’And I’m not about to start. Friends?’’

   ‘’Always,’’ ‘T’Challa speaks, and he’s sure that the two of you are going to work this out and be friends again.

   That was two months ago.

   A few days of hanging out on his and your limited free time turned into nights of laughter, hanging out with him and Shuri, and reconnecting over old memories.

   Your best friend is back, and you two are starting to become inseparable. Even when you return to America after your extended stay in Wakanda, you video chat. He even gave you kimoyo beads, and you’re leaving to use them.

   Now,you're currently sitting in your bathroom, just having hung up from a message with T’Challa as you get ready.

   ‘’We need to go! Nat is in the lobby,’’ your roommate, Wanda, knocks on the bathroom door.

   ‘’Geez, girl. I’m coming!’’

   You stuff your things into your wallet, ready to go out.    

And life is good. You love your job, you love your apartment, you’ve started seeing someone new (it’s recent, but promising).

   Most importantly, T'Challa is back in your life and nothing can change that.

   Well… nothing except for, maybe, that night in Wakanda right before you left…

   And the positive pregnancy test in your bedroom trashcan.

DISCLAIMER- I do now won any Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, countries, cities, states,planets or galaxies.

Chapter one: (spoiler alert)

You were a baby when King T'Chaka found you abandoned on a doorstep in California, crying your eyes out. The King of Wakanda gently picked you up, and your crying eventually ceased. Looking down at your (eye color) eyes, King T'Chaka couldn’t leave you behind.

Now the king knew that it would be dangerous bringing you into a fight. Luckily for him, he had three Dora Milaje with him. He then handed you over to one of them with the orders to take you back to the ship and protect you.

The Dora Milaje that T'Chaka handed you to nodded and took her leave. The king of Wakanda noticed a small card on the ground, he picked it up and saw that your name was Y/N. Now he wasn’t the biggest fan of that name, so he called you Adaeze Abeba, instead. He wanted all of Wakanda to know that you are the daughter of the king, and that you are his precious flower.

When Prince T'Challa first saw you, he instantly knew that you had him wrapped around your finger. Not that he cared though. You’re his younger sister after all.

👑 👑 👑 👑 👑

-15 years later-

“Something is bothering you.” T'Challa says looking at you.

“Just lost in thought.” You answer lying through your teeth. T'Challa doesn’t buy it.

“Abeba, tell me what is bothering you.” Your brother says in a pleading yet stern tone.

Only two people call you Abeba, and those two people are your siblings- T'Challa and Shuri. Everyone else calls you Adaeze or Princess.

“I want to become a war dog.” You find yourself saying after a moment of silence.

“What’s stopping you?” Your brother questions. You shrug. Once again T'Challa doesn’t look convinced. It seems like he can read you better than anyone.

“I approached father about it earlier. He wasn’t that keen on the idea. He started going off about how I’d follow in our uncle’s footsteps.”

“Depending on what comes first, me inheriting the title of the Black Panther or your 16th birthday,” T'Challa states. “but I promise that I will personally ask our father to make you a war dog. My sister.”

About three months later you turn 16 and T'Challa becomes the Black Panther. Your brother keeps his word and actually convinces King T'Chaka, your father, to allow you to become a spy for Wakanda.

👑 👑 👑 👑 👑

“Abeba!” Your younger sister, Shuri, says before you leave Wakanda and go to the United States.

“Hey, Shuri.” You say with a sad smile. Your 14-year-old sister gives you a hug as well as a backpack and a necklace with a panther pendant.

“What’s this?”

“If you find any vibranium from Wakanda, put it in this bag and the vibranium will be sent back here. The necklace is so you don’t forget home.” Shuri is one of the smartest people you know, she more than likely designed the pendant to do something other than being a necklace- but you’ll test that theory later.

“Thank you, Shuri.” You say as you pull the necklace over your head, before allowing the pendant to fall against your chest. You then sling the backpack over your shoulder and hug your sister one last time before boarding the jet.

“Are you going to miss us, my daughter?” Your father asks in Xosha. Xosha and English are the two common languages heard in Wakanda. You happen to speak both languages fluently.

“Every single day.” You reply switching to Xosha. T'Challa laughs.

“Every day that you’re not looking for vibranium.” He corrects. You roll your eyes.

“If you’re not careful, I will hit you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“No fighting you two.” Your father scolds reverting back to English. You and your brother quickly apologize. “Adaeze, I suggest you go by your birth name.”

“I thought Adaeze Abeba was my birth name, father.” You reply looking at the king of Wakanda in confusion.

“Adaeze Abeba is the name I gave you after I found you. Your real name is Y/N.” Your father’s statement hits you like a punch to the stomach. Tears pool in your eyes.

“What do you mean by you "found” me?“ Your father refuses to meet your eyes and doesn’t answer.

"Father, what are you hiding from us?” T'Challa asks as he walks over. Turns out your life has been made on a foundation of lies. You’re an American, not Wakandan. The tears you were holding back, start sliding down your cheeks. T'Challa pulls you into a hug, and you bury your face in his shoulder.

About an hour later you’re abandoned somewhere in South Dakota. You start to shiver as a cold ass breeze hits you. You were used to Wakanda’s year-round warm temperatures… not snow and ice.

Hoping there was something in your backpack you start looking only to find a small wad of cash, likely to be a gift from T'Challa. Nice to know that your older brother still has your back even if you are on the other side of the world.

👑 👑 👑 👑 👑

Freezing your tail end off you slowly make your way to the closest town. On the outskirts you find a salvage yard hopefully whoever owned this place could lend you a coat and give you directions to the closest motel. You knock on the door.

“Can I help you?” A man asks when he answers the door.

“Yeah, I’m a little lost. Could you point me in the right direction of a hotel or something?” You reply.

“The closest hotel is ten miles due east.” Your shoulders slump you were hoping for something closer. The man sees this. “Going off that reaction, you don’t have a car do you?”

“No sir. All I have is the few possessions in my backpack and the clothes on my back.” The man opens the door a little wider and invites you in. As soon as you step inside you notice all the books.

“It’s not much but you can spend the night here.” The man says. “Also the name’s Bobby, kid. You don’t have to call me sir.”

“I’m Y/N.” You reply not wanting to give up your real identity. Saying your birth name instead of Princess Adaeze Abeba, daughter of King T'Chaka, is different. However, your birth name is shorter than you go by back home in Wakanda.

“Would you like some coffee or something?” Bobby asks.

“Sure, that would be great.” You answer.

Bobby grabs two mugs out of the cupboard. He then pours the brown liquid into the cups and then promptly asks if you want any sugar, not seeing the harm in it you say yes.

Bobby sets the two cups down on the table, you figure the one he isn’t drinking from is likely yours. You take a small sip… only to find your drink salty instead of sweet.

“Do you normally mistake salt for sugar or is it just today?” You question. Bobby chuckles softly.

“Guess it’s just today.” He replies.

TO BE CONTINUED.

@spnsisimagines

@simply-wins-little-sis

@the-third-winchester-warrior

@winchesters-favorite-girl

@flannels-and-rocksalt

@spnkisum

@moose-and-sqruille-lover

@always-keep-writing-spn

@caroldanversinatardis

@thewinsisterchronicles

@thewinsister

@mrspadackles

@percussiongirl2017

@the-crime-fighting-spider

Bucky Barnes x Reader

(Word Count: 2.4k)

You answered the Wakandan prince and princess’ call almost immediately. You quietly and swiftly made your way from your room, taking the familiar route south to the lab.

King T’Chaka’s death was so recent that his presence was still very much felt around the palace. Everyone, of all ranks, collectively mourning the loss. As you passed through the halls, you thought of his children—you couldn’t imagine losing your father, especially in such a jarring way. You bristled before turning the corner, bracing yourself for whatever was on the other side.

A pale skinned, dark haired man appeared to be sleeping in a large tube. Beside it, Prince T’Challa and Princess Shuri were in deep conversation with another white man, this one blonde. He stood opposite them and face to face with you.

You weren’t one for rudeness, but you had never seen a white man in person before, and it was strange. You found yourself switching back and forth between the and his sleeping friend. The first and second white men you had seen up close. They both had white skin tinged with pink, and their hair really was bone straight. The blonde gave you a warm smile, maintaining a slight recline and dropped shoulders.

You weren’t very good at interrupting or with strangers; your shyness was a terrible hindrance, and it was a wonder you even had friends in the royal family. The stranger’s reaction saved you the trouble, causing both siblings to do the same. Immediately, your eyes drifted the man in the tube, lightly pressing your fingers on the glass.

T’Challa cleared his throat and gestured at the blonde, “Y/N, this is Captain Rogers.”

You nodded at him and followed his downward gaze––to the other white man. Because you were closer, you could see his breath fog up the glass in front of his nose.

“We need you to watch over Sergeant Barnes while he is within our borders,” Shuri said. Though he looked relatively peaceful, what this Sergeant Barnes was like when he was awake must be hard.

“Your daily tasks will be to tend to him.” T'Challa explained.

Your gaze softened when you glanced at Captain Rogers. His concern was plain to see, enough to make you muster up whatever courage you had to speak.

“I will do as I am asked. Sergeant Barnes will be well cared for during his time here.” You replied. You gave him a small smile.

The man nodded at your reassurance, and you excused yourself. You had a lot of work ahead of you.

TRIGGER WARNINGS AND THEMES- Pregnancy, lying,manipulation, expectations, emotional pain, friends to lovers to ?, parents manipulating children, mentions of cyberbullying and scandals

    The sun beams down and the wind whips your freshly braided hair, giving it a healthy glow as you ride through the streets on your way to your parents house.

    ‘’Welcome back,’’ your dad chuckles as you stick your hand out of the window, as if you could capture the rays of the Wakandan Sun and bottle it for your worst days.

    ‘’It is good to be home, baba,’’ you sigh, pulling your hand back into the car and resting it on your lap.

    It’s been a month since T’Challa proposed you moving back to Wakanda. In that time, he found you a job, an apartment, and has arranged a welcome dinner for you and your parents so that you can reveal the news to your parents about who the baby’s dad is.

    ‘’Your mother has prepared a big lunch for you. As if we won’t be eating at the palace,’’ he rolls his eyes, causing you to chuckle as you turn to stare out of the window, ‘’It’s a mixture of your favorite Wakandan dishes as well as some of your favorite dishes from back before we moved.’’

    ‘’She made red beans and rice?,’’ you squeal, looking to your baba as he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

    ‘’She sure did. And baked macaroni and cheese. Just the way you like it.’’

    As if on cue, your stomach rumbles. Lucky for you, you reach the house just then. Your mother is sitting on the porch fanning herself, until she sees you. Then, she’s rushing down the steps to pull you into her arms before you can even get out of the car.

    ‘’My baby!,’’ she pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

    ‘’Momma, you’re gonna squeeze the baby,’’ you laugh a bit before she steps back, taking your hands into hers.

    ‘’It’s been so long, dear!’’

    ‘’Momma, it’s only been about three months.’’

    ‘’Three and a half. It is so good that you are here. Go in, sit at the table, eat.’’

    ‘’I need to help abba with my bags first,’’ you remind her but she shakes her head.

    ‘’I said ‘Eat’. You are carrying my grandchild. I can’t have you losing energy. Go eat.’’

    ‘’Alright, alright,’’ you sigh, entering your parents’ abode.

    The smell of the food hits you instantly, and your mouth is watering. You fill your plate with macaroni, rice, beans, and all types of delicious foods before your parents join you.

    ‘’I told you she would be starving,’’ your baba laughs as he gets the cups and your mother makes their plates before they join you.

    ‘’T’Challa wants us at the palace at seven,’’ your mother looks to the clock, ‘’That’s five hours from now. Should give you time to eat, take a nap, and get ready.’’

    ‘’Is there any reason that he wants to meet with us,’’ your baba asks, sipping his water.

    ‘’He has some sort of announcement,’’ you explain, omitting the part where he wants to say how the baby is his and yours.

    ‘’You need to rest now,’’ your mother states as you yawn after having consumed your second plate of food.

    ‘’But I want to catch up with you two.’’

    ‘’There will be plenty of time for that later. Now,  don’t argue with me. To bed.’’’

    You know there’s no use in trying to fight this, so you kiss them both on the cheeks and head to your childhood room.

    Walking up the stairs alone gives you so many memories.

    Like the time that you and T’Challa thought it’d be fun to slide down the stairs on our butts.

    You were fifteen.

    Or coming down the stairs to meet T’Challa, dressed in your gown for the school dance.

    Your bedroom holds even more memories.

    T’Challa and you sitting on the bed watching television.

    That time he gave you that little peck before quickly excusing himself.

    The time that he held you when you got rejected by the boy you liked.

    The time you held him when that girl broke his heart.

    As you lay down, you rub your stomach, grinning to yourself.

    ‘’I can’t wait to meet you,’’ you whisper to your ever growing baby, noticing the way that your stomach is beginning to protrude ever so slightly.

    ‘’I can’t wait to make memories with you.’’

    And from the way that T’Challa kissed you before he left a few weeks ago, and the way that he talked, you feel that you’ll be making more memories with him soon.

So you slowly drift off to sleep with that thought in mind, surprisingly not feeling nervous at all for tonight.

    T’Challa, though, is another story.

    ‘’I do not understand,’’ he tells his mother, looking between her and Adisa.

    ‘’We are worried about what will be said once this news breaks, my king,’’ Adisa speaks.

    ‘’I have told you that I do not care,’’ he shakes his head before looking over the budgets again, ‘’That is my child. I will take responsibility for it.

    ‘’My son, I am not suggesting that you do not take responsibility for this child. That is just as much your baby as it is hers. So  you need to do the honorable ting and take responsibility.’’

    ‘’Then, forgive my bluntness, why is she her,’’ T’Challa points at Adisa with his pen.

    ‘’We are worried that you telling the world will have a negative impact on your...friend.’’

    ‘’What kind of negative impact,’’ T’Challa questions, closing his binder to give them his undivided attention, ‘’How so?’’

‘’As you know, your highness, people are very...well, petty. There are sure to be dozens and dozens of articles are sure to be written about her. Saying that she is using you, that the baby is not hers. Now that the border is open, some paparazzi may get close to her. This could put undue stress on her and the baby.’’

T’Challa has always had a soft spot for you. So hearing how this could hurt you, or your baby, in any way has him ready to step into action.

‘’I do not want to see that happen to her. What can I do,’’ T’Challa stands, coming from around his desk.

Truth be told, Ramonda is already regretting this.

But she is meant to protect T’Challa,and her grandson, and you, in  a  way. And though she tossed and turned last night, she still feels like this is the best choice. T’Challa would never forgive himself if you were hurt in all of this.

    So, she reasons with herself, she is doing the right thing.

    At least, she hopes she is.

At six thirty, you and your parents enter the palace. Ayo herself is escorting you to the dining hall.

    ‘’You’re here!,’’ Shuri squeals, running up to you to pull you into a hug, ‘’You have been taking good care of my niece or nephew, I hope!’’

    ‘’Keep it down!,’’ you hiss as your parents slowly make their way towards the two of you, ‘’They do not know yet.’’

    ‘’Do not know what,’’your baba questions as Shuri quickly thinks up something.

    ‘’That she wants to name the baby Shuri,’’ she states, ‘’Come, come. My brother will be joining us shortly.

    The wait is short, about ten minutes. You make conversation with Shuri, your mother,and your baba. Ramonda enters, and you all stand in respect. Followed by her is Adisa, so T’Challa will be joining you any minute.

    ‘’It is so good to see you again,’’ Ramonda speaks, hugging you.

    But something,and you’re not sure what, makes toy feel uneasy.

    ‘’It is good to see you, too, QUeen Mother.’’

    ‘’Please. Call me Ramonda. After all,’’’ she whispers in your ear, ‘’That is my grandbaby.’’

    Something about the way that she says this gives you chills, but you do your best to press it down and ignorant. Because here comes T’Challa, and he looks so good, and…

    But…

    Who’s that on his arm?

    ‘’Good evening to you all,’’ he speaks, making eye contact with everyone but you,’’I have an announcement to make.’’

    ‘’Son, do you think now-’’

    ‘’It is the best time, mother. I must do it now. TO avoid things getting awkward. Everyone,’’ he takes in a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.

And it is with his next words that you learn a valuable lesson: Loving can hurt sometimes, especially when you’re not on the same page.

‘’I’d like you to meet Jayde. My girlfriend.’’

Yes, I know I do a lot of plot twists. But I PROMISE there is a reason for ALL of this. 

DISCLAIMER- I do not own any Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, countries, places, planets, galaxies, cities, etc.

Trigger warnings and themes- pregnancy, telling parents, breaking up, unplanned pregnancy, mention of one night stand “Well? What did he say?,’’ Wanda questions as she shuts your laptop for you. ‘’He said he wants to be involved in the baby’s life,’’ you remove your headphones, ‘’So...yeah. He’s coming here next week, I think he said. We’re going to talk about it.’’ ‘’So… that’s it?,’’ Wanda shifts, moving so that her legs are tucked under her on the couch, ‘’You guys are moving forward with this?’’ ‘’I mean, yeah,’’ you shrug, ‘’I want to have the baby, and T’Challa wants to help raise the child. So, we’re going to move forward.’’ ‘’So you feel much better?’’ ‘’Yeah,’’ you lean back, resting your hands on your stomach, ‘’Honestly, telling T’Challa was the worst part, I think. I know I have to tell my parents, but I’m grown. They may not believe me when I say who the dad is, but that will reveal itself in due time.’’ ‘’Uh-huh,’’ she raises an eyebrow, ‘’You know you do have to tell Pietro, right?’’ Your eyes widen as the realization lands on you that you have to tell your… well, he’s not a boyfriend. But he’s more than a friend. He’s somewhere in between. You have to tell Pietro that you’re pregnant, and see what he has to say about all of that. Because this can never be easy, can it? ‘’Listen, I do not mean to influence your judgment one way or another. But my brother really, really likes you. And after that nasty break up he had with Natasha… don’t be the reason that he stops believing in love again. That’s all I ask.’’ Wanda is many things, but subtle is not one of then. She’s going to tell you what’s on her mind, whether it’s right or wrong. In this case she is, unfortunately, right. ‘’You know, I hare it when you do that,’’ you grumble. ‘’When I do what?’’ ‘’Be right.’’ She laughs then, standing and extenidng a hand out to you to help you off of the couch, ‘’Come on. Let’s go get some Chinese food with Pietro. I’ll be there when you tell him.’’ ‘’Wanda, you are amazing,’’ you sigh. ‘’I know,’’ she flips her auburn hair over her shulder,’’Now let’s go meet up with him. I’ve already text him. He’s waiting for us.’’ Here’s the thing about Pietro. You never really saw him like that. You met him about five years ago when you went back to college to pursue a degree in journalism. He’s about three years younger than you, as is Wanda, but you’d bonded with her. One night, Wanda suggested hanging out. She’d then got a call from her own boyfriend, and didn’t want to ditch either one of you. So, she brought someone along for you. Insert Pietro. ‘’Quicksilver’’, they’d called him. Because not only is he physically fast, but he is able to think on his feet rather quickly. He’s also got a silver tongue, charming and deceiving every woman he’s come into contact with. You, being someone who’d spent too much time around T'Challa growing up, hadn’t given him the time of day until he came to you with genuine interest. When he finally did, ti was about two or three days after you’d gotten back from Wakanda. And now that he’s shown true interest, you’re gonna have to tell him that you're pregnant. With another man’s baby. No awkwardness there, right? That’s what you’d thought until you told him. Now, he’s staring at you, eyes moving from your face to your stomach as if that alone will answer all of the questions sure to be swarming around his head at this very moment. ‘’Wanda, my sister, would you give me and my girlfriend a minute alne,’’ he questions, eyes not leaving your face. ‘’Of course,’’ she clears her throat, ‘’I’ll, um, go see what’s taking our order so long.’’ She glances away then, leaving you to your second conversation f the dya. ‘’Are you sure that you are pregnant,’’ he whispers to you. ‘’I am. All three pregnancy tests were positive, and I went to the clinic. I’ve got a bun in the oven.’’ ‘’And who’s the baker that put this bun in the oven,’’ he questions, leg bouncing. He’s nervous. ‘’My friend, T’Challa. We had a one night stand in Wakanda before I came back, before I even started dating you.’’ ‘’And how far along are you?’’ ‘’Two, two and a half months,’’ you shrug. Something flashes across his face then, and he leans back, analysing you and accessing the situation as his fingers drum on the table, ‘’You are positive?’’ ‘’I am. So there’s no need to make this weird, right?’’ ‘’I guess not.’’ Wanda returns then, smiling. ‘’They said it’ll be just a few more minutes,’’ she sits, then looks between you and her brother, ‘’What’s going on? Did I miss something?’’ “Nothing at all,Wanda,” Pietro supplies, “Nothing at all.” Wanda looks between the two of you, but decides to drop it. But something tells you that this isn’t the last time you’ll be having a conversation like this with the twins. T’Challa has faced quite a number of terrifying circumstances. Erik when they were ten and he decided it’d be a good idea to push him off of the slide and onto the gravel. Shuri when he broke something in her lab. Facing M’Baku during his coronation. And losing his baba… But never, ever in his life has he faced something as terrifying, as overwhelming, as dramatic as this: telling his mother that he got someone pregnant. And he shouldn’t be afraid. He’s not a teenager. He’s the king of a whole country, bast’s sake. However. Those arguments don’t stand up to the look that his mother is giving him. “Why?” “I am sorry, mother?” “Why did you get her pregnant?” “I…,” he furrows his eyebrows, “it was not intentional.” “You never should have slept with her,” Ramonda responds, “PR is going to have to do a lot of work to hide this.” “Mother, I do not wish to hide this. That is my child she is carrying. I do not want to seem like I am ashamed of it or if her.” Ramonda purses her lips at her son,”These kind of situations bring scandals. You will never hear the end of it. Believe me, son. I know.” “That child is mine, mother. You and baba told me to accept responsibility for my actions. Well, I am. That is my child, the future heir to the throne-“ “The illegitimate heir.” “This conversation is done, mother,” he stands ,”o must go. But, just know that my decision has been made.” Ramonda watched her son go, shaking her head when the door closes behind him. T’Challa is a lot like T’Chaka- making mistakes, but always doing what he believes to be the honorable thing. But like her, he won’t let things go easily. As far as Ramonda is concerned, this conversation is far from over. And like this whole situation? It is just getting started. Disclaimer- I own no Marvel characters or their fictional worlds, planets, countries,etc.