#shuri imagines

[babyboiboyega]

Next To Me Pt. 14 (Shuri x Black!Fem!Reader)​

Shuri x Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 11.6k (a little longer as an apology for being late...and for what happens :) )

Content: angst. Angst galore; fighting; mentions of bruises; did I say angst?; nightmares; Shuri finally comes to her senses

Next To Me Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

TAGLIST FORM

Song Inspo:

“Runnin” - Beyonce, Arrow Benjamin

“No Peace” - Sam Smith, Yebba

“I wish I knew how it would feel to be free” - Andra Day

A/N: Sorry for it being so late y’all. I’ve been looking forward to writing this part for a while, and every draft I typed up was not meeting my own, absurdly high standards lmao so I kept deleting and rewriting until I finally came out with this! So I really hope y’all enjoy this, and I hope it makes you as emotional as it made me while writing it! <3

Recap:

“SHURI-”

Somehow, even over the sound of the child wailing in your ear and the sound of your voice screaming itself hoarse, you could hear the beeping stop.

There was a shockingly heavy silence that fell over the area, allowing just a sliver of hope to rest in your chest- hope that it was a false alarm…

And then the ground shook with an explosion that threw you off of your feet.

******

Ringing. The suffocating smell of smoke. The feeling of that smoke burning as it entered your nostrils and traveled to your lungs.

Shuri.

The air was filled with dirt, dust, and a heat that made your skin prickle. Your ears rang painfully with the remnants of the blast, the child's whimpering floating just beneath the sound. You could feel him squirming against your chest, and it quickly crossed your mind that maybe you were holding him too tightly; though, the feeling of his hands landing gently but urgently on your face told you otherwise. He gently patted at your cheek until your disoriented gaze landed on him, the outline of him swimming across your vision.

The ground was rough against your back, digging into the bruises and cuts you were sure to have from being thrown, but those wounds were preferred over having more harm come to the little boy in your arms.

Your breath left you in a wheeze as you sat up, and the next breath you drew in burned. The sensation made you choke slightly, one of your arms raising to cover your mouth and nose in vain. It only took hearing one cough from the child to realize that the burn you felt in your almost fully developed lungs was multiplied in his underdeveloped lungs. The thought prompted you to struggle to your feet while pushing the boy's head into your neck- an attempt to keep him from inhaling the smoke-filled air around you.

The haze in your mind remained, even as you gained your bearings enough to stumble towards the mouth of the alley. There was a pile of debris at the entrance, and the flames that danced from it effectively blocked your path back to the main clearing, and your path to the last place you had seen Shuri.

The desire to find a safe place for the boy battled with your desire to find her, which was more of a 'need' than a 'want'. The last you had seen of her, she was running into the very alley where the bomb had been planted.

There was a distant section of your mind that replayed the memory of watching as her panther suit engulfed her body, providing her an extra sense of protection; but the more keyed-up, panic induced part of your brain could only remember watching her run headfirst into danger, without a care in the damn world.

You didn't have enough mental fortitude at the moment to embrace the anger that stemmed from her actions. Instead, you busied yourself with squinting through the flames and the smoke, trying your hardest to see through to the other side.

The area that had just been filled with children and adults alike, laughing and conversing after long days at school and work, was now barren. Scattered throughout the area lay pieces of debris, still on fire and smoldering. The alley that had been the origin of the blast was just gone. Where there once had been a space big enough for a few people to walk down, there was now a pile of broken bricks and other kinds of rubble.

Your eyes took note of the destruction caused for only a second before turning your search to any sign of Shuri, only to no avail. There wasn't a single sign- not one that you could see.

The panic that gripped your chest made it all the more difficult to draw in a proper breath; the tears gathering in your eyes could have been a product of the toxic smoke, or a product of the horrific and unfathomable thoughts that shot through your mind, making you freeze in your spot.

After going through everything she had, a bomb from a cult was what took her? Took her from a country that adored her and her passed family members; took her from a number of palace personnel who viewed her as family and as a friend- more than just a queen.

Took her from you.

You simply couldn't comprehend it. You didn't want to comprehend it- not when there were still so many things that had been left unsaid between the two of you. You had forgiven her, but you still wanted so much more- you wanted to give her so much more. The possibility that you two's story- a story that had just began- had already ended sent a crippling fear through you. But you couldn't let it incapacitate you when a child's safety relied solely on your actions.

The boy in your arms coughed, letting out a choked whimper before burying his face deeper into your skin. The distress in his voice coupled with the shaking of his body was enough to kick you into action, making you turn away from the damage with the intent of finding a place that hadn't been touched by the blast.

Your legs shook slightly as you walked away. Your eyes blinked rapidly, burning with the feeling of tears trying to clear them of dust and smoke. The only cemented thought in your mind was getting the child to safety, and it prompted you to walk the same, trampled path the crowd had taken to escape. There had to be someone frantically looking for their child, and the sooner he was in their arms, the sooner you'd be able to start searching for those you had come with.

Start searching for Shuri.

Each turn was unfamiliar and unknown to you, but somehow in your dazed state, you were able to mark each turn in your mind. Though, that daze quickly sharpened, making everything around you clearer and louder in what could only be called fight or flight, when a hand landed on your shoulder.

With your arms tensing around the boy, you whirled around, taking a number of steps away from the unfamiliar presence. The man, who only copied your actions but toward you, had a distressed look on his dust covered face. His eyes were wide and as red as you suspected yours looked while his tears carved tracks into the dust on his cheeks. Even as you held a hand out as a caution and a warning, he continued forward, his own arms reached out; but not to you, but the little boy you held.

The man's voice cracked as he exclaimed something- something that held the familiarity and fear of a guardian for their child- and it was effective in grabbing the little boy's attention. His head turned to the side just enough for him to peer at the man, and then he was pulling his head up completely. His whimpering quickly changed to cries once more as his hands desperately reached out to the man, fingers flexing and almost urging him to pick him up.

The man surged forward without another word, his arms securing themselves around the little boy's body before pulling him into his chest. He placed his head on top of the boy's, his eyes momentarily closing as his lips moved soundlessly in what one could assume was a prayer of thanks. You didn't know the exact relationship between the man and the boy, but it was obvious that that they were familiar with each other. The man's utter relief at seeing the child's state of wellbeing told you all you needed to know, and it admittedly made a weight lift off your shoulders. You had kept him safe, even when surrounded by nothing but hostility and unfamiliarity.

The man started thanking you profusely, the gratitude making his voice thick with emotion, but you couldn't focus on his words. Instead of reassuring him that he had no reason to say thank you, that you were simply doing the right thing, your eyes were focused on the person slinking their way onto the small walkway you were standing on. Their head whipped back and forth before settling on you, their body freezing right afterward.

The question of whether the person needed help lingered on the edge of your mind, but the longer you watched them, the more the answer became clear. A scarf covered the lower half of their face, hiding their expression from you, but it couldn't hide the tension that gripped their body. It showed itself in their limbs which were coiled and looking ready to propel them toward you. The walkway suddenly seemed too small around you, and it only lessened as the person started making their way toward you and the father/son duo.

You didn't think when you placed a hand on the man's arm, urging him to turn and immediately put more distance between himself, his son, and the menacing figure. It didn't take much pressure for the man to do exactly that, leaving you alone with someone who's intentions were unknown but easy to guess.

And you didn't think when you spun on your heel, launching yourself down another walk away.

In hindsight, you'd like to say that you ran in a different direction so that you could lead the person away from the father and his son; but in the moment, you had run with the main intention of getting back to the clearing where you had seen Shuri, Okoye, and Aneka.

Your teeth violently clacked together with every step you took. Different parts of the village flew past your vision as you ran, but you were focused on only one thing in the moment: get the hell away from this asshole.

Each breath sawed in and out of your lungs, burning with every inhale and exhale. Your chest was tight, both from fear and exertion, and it only grew tighter as you continued speeding around corners in an attempt to get back. The loose dirt that covered the ground slid beneath your shoes, posing a threat and making it that much harder to put distance between the footsteps you could hear gaining from behind you.

In your hastened state of mind, you could've sworn you felt fingers ghosting across the back of your neck, intent on grabbing you. It only made you move faster, pumping the last bit of energy into your legs as the clearing finally came into view. At the threat of that hand growing closer, you grabbed the sleek, vibranium baton that hung from your belt. The cool metal was both comforting in its potential to protect yourself, and a stressor at the fact that it would be the first time you'd have to actually defend yourself- and possibly save yourself from an unknown threat. Except the person after you wasn't the only threat, and the real threat only became clear once you finally ran back to the clearing.

Over your own harsh and labored breathing in your ears, the sounds of combat could be heard in the area. There was the unmistakable sound of the Dora Milaje's spears grazing against other weapons, and it admittedly comforted you just a little, knowing that they were right there.

You had just stepped into the clearing when, for the second time in the day, you were being lifted off of your feet. It wasn't because of a blast, this time; it was because of the strong hand that grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled, effectively and abruptly halting your momentum and making your feet stumble under you.

It was relentless as it continued to pull you further back, away from the very people who could help you in the situation and towards a more secluded part of the area. Even through the raw panic consuming you, you were sensible enough to know that giving up could only result in harm coming to you, and it made you struggle harder against their pulling. It was no longer a thing of fight or flight; it was simply fight, and Okoye's voice seemed to appear out of nowhere, urging you to do exactly that.

"When struggling against an opponent who's bigger than you, you always use the element of surprise to your advantage. They're not expecting you to rush at them- they're expecting you to run. Show them why they're wrong."

With the next wrench of your shirt, you willingly and quickly entered their space. It was obvious that they had underestimated your next move, as they stumbled back before falling to the ground. It would've been a good chance for you to knock them out or even run, but their death grip on your shirt only caused you to fall to the ground beside them before letting go.

What little breath you had left escaped you in a dizzying rush at the impact, and when you attempted to pull it back in, it was tinged with dirt. It coated your tongue and your throat, adding on another layer of disorientation on top of the soreness wracking your body.

The dull pain that radiated from your already bruised back was next to unnoticeable as you attempted to roll over, one hand scrambling at the dirt to pull yourself away from the person's aggressive grip. You had just gotten one leg under your body, ready to launch to your feet, when a pain erupted from your scalp. The pain only spread as your own hair was used to pull you back to the ground, this time keeping you pinned into the dirt.

Your baton fell to the ground as you raised both hands, clutching at your hair in an attempt to lessen the strain of the person's grip. A yell that was equal parts pain and anger escaped through your gritted teeth at the feeling of someone climbing over you, trapping your legs between theirs despite the way they violently kicked.

Their eyes, wide and gleaming with a sick kind of satisfaction, appeared over your struggling figure, and they only brightened as they brandished an ancient, almost battered dagger. The shadows that the nearby fires cast on their face caused them to look even more menacing than their actions already made them out to be. You could see your reflection, bathed in the orange light of the same fire in their wide, manic eyes; you could see the look of pure rage that had taken over your features, your lips twisted into a snarl that probably matched the person's beneath their scarf.

That rage grew as a mocking laugh left their lips, their head shaking as if scorning a child. The hand that held the dagger lifted, but instead of plunging it into your chest, it pulled down the edge of the scarf, revealing a twisted smile at your expense.

"Don't worry…your death will precede the coming of our goddess…your sacrifice won't be in vain, child."

His grip tightened on the dagger as he raised it once more; his hand that was twisted into your locs tightened as well, preparing to hold you down for when he brought it down. Too busy was he basking in what he undoubtedly interpreted as fear that he didn't notice your fingers closing around a large rock you had managed to reach.

He only noticed once you raised it, bringing it into the side of his head with all of the strength you could muster. There was a sickening sound as it made contact with his skull, and it was accompanied by the sound of his body thudding to the ground.

The second your legs were free, you were rolling onto your stomach and grabbing your discarded baton with a shaky hand. Your scalp throbbed as you staggered quickly to your feet, your chest rising and falling heavily with the effort it took you to get to this point. But as you met the man's furious and crazed gaze, every remnant of panic still coursing through your veins dissipated, leaving nothing but a heavy and consuming rage.

Not even the thought that you had just faced certain death could cool the heat of that rage as it raced through you, and seeing the man stagger to his feet, ready to once again attack you- a person who had done nothing but fall into a set of circumstances set up by him and those like him- made you seethe even more. He looked at you as if you were the one who had tried to kill him only moments before.

You didn't feel an ounce of remorse in your body as you extended the baton before jamming the end of it into his ribcage and twisting. His body shook momentarily, electric volts running rampant throughout his entire being before going still as you retracted it.

Your eyes stayed fixated on his body, searching for any signs of movement besides the slow rise and fall of his chest. Only after failing to see any did you turn on your heel, your attention now set on the clearing and the sounds of fighting still emanating from it. One would think that the adrenaline in your body would fade after getting through the ordeal that had caused it to activate in the first place, but it was the exact opposite as your steps pace picked up the closer you grew to the noises.

Chaos was the only word that could adequately describe the scene you ran into. The Dora Milaje's red and silver could be seen moving quickly throughout the area, taking down any person who dared to approach them. It was easy to differentiate between Doras and cult members as they flooded the clearing, and you found that you were relieved to see not a single Dora laying on the ground, injured or worse.

Even with the frenzy of activity happening, you still tried your hardest to look for familiar faces: Okoye, Aneka, Eza…Shuri. Your eyes strained as you looked for just a glimpse of a gold and black suit, and it almost caused you to miss the fist aiming straight for your face.

It was instinct that caused you to duck under the arm, but it was Okoye's voice in your mind, once again, that made you roll across the ground and out of their reach. The world righted itself as you came to a stop, jumping to your feet once more. It all happened just in time for you to see another person running full speed at you, their mouth open in a threatening and almost manic yell.

Your answering yell was lost amidst the sounds of the battle, but your throat burned with the intensity of it as you rushed to meet them halfway. No longer were you looking at your surroundings through a lens of panic; the cultists had invaded this village with the sole purpose of causing destruction, chaos, and fear for a twisted cause- a cause that was built and enforced through pain and panic.

They were victims just as much as you were…and it pissed you off.

The woman held a pipe in her hands, her knuckles white where they gripped and raised it, preparing to use it in any way to inflict as much pain as she could. Her steps were quick as she approached you, and had you not been focused, it would've surely frightened you; but she was now just a person who had to be subdued and not a person who could take your life.

Fights were often depicted as happening in slow motion in movies and books, but the same could not be said for the fight you had found yourself in; instead of her movements being slow and drawn out, they seemed to happen as quick as they possibly could, almost as if someone had pressed the fast forward button on a remote. You made sure to send a silent and quick thanks to Okoye and her training, as you couldn't have possibly defended yourself without her instruction.

The pipe whistled through the air right above your head, alerting you to just how close she was as you stepped forward and ducked. You spun with bent knees, your hands twisting just slightly around your staff as you brought it into the woman's abdomen. A grunt left your mouth as the impact reverberated up the length of your arms, but you didn't dare stop there.

Your knee was waiting as she doubled over, raising and connecting squarely with the bridge of her nose. The quick attack made her head snap back, effectively freeing your staff from where it had been trapped against her bent figure and allowing you to step back. She staggered backwards, a pained shriek leaving her mouth as her hands clutched at her nose. The light from the fires allowed you to see the bright red that gushed from between her fingers and dribbled down her chin into the dirt. Her watery eyes were furious as they fixated on you, but your actions only made that fury melt into surprise as you raised a foot, kicking out and making contact with her chest hard enough to throw her back. There was a thud as she landed in the dirt, and her groans soon followed, joining the other sounds of pain and battle around you.

"What in Bast’s name are you doing here?!"

Relief shot through you at the sound of Okoye's angry, albeit concerned, voice. It wasn't hard to spot her, as she had at some point fought her way through the clearing to you and now stood in front of you. The exasperation in her eyes echoed in her voice as she stared wide-eyed at you. Her spear was held in a defensive stance in front of her, and even though her eyes were on you, you knew that should she approached, she'd be able to handle herself just fine.

"Why didn't you go with the villagers?!"

"That's kind of a long story-!"

Yours words were quickly cut off at the sound of another voice yelling and growing closer. Both you and Okoye's gazes turned in time to see a man wielding a club of some kind running towards the two of you, and you both acted without thinking or communicating.

While you swung your staff at the man's knees, immediately making his legs buckle, Okoye spun her spear until the end of it connected with the man's back. You watched as she delivered an electric blow to his body before pulling away, the man falling to the ground and becoming still.

"We have no time for stories- get to safety!" As she scolded you, she continued spinning her spear in a way that was uniquely Okoye, using it to take down every cultist that grew too close to her; but with every cultist she took down, the further she grew from you. It only crossed your mind that she was drawing them away from you when the path in front of you was suddenly clear of cultists- well, cultists who were still conscious and a threat.

You had no intention of staying there and refusing Okoye's order (even if you wanted to tell her how you took down someone all by yourself), but the matter of Shuri's location was still at the forefront of your mind. It would've been unprofessional and distracting to ask Okoye if she had seen her…but with every passing second of you thinking the worst had happened, the antsier you grew.

And it only became harder to focus when another figure entered your line of sight, blocking the exit that you had been contemplating taking. Upon seeing them, you immediately tightened your grasp on your staff, raising it to mimic the same stance Okoye had taught you; but it didn't take long for you to notice that your staff would be no good against them.

The rope that they held in their hands seemed harmless upon first glance; but as they started swinging it, the piece of metal on the end catching the reflection of the fires, it quickly became obvious that it was the exact opposite of harmless. They were the exact opposite of harmless, and their eyes were fixated on you.

Ah, shit.

Behind you was the collapsed alleyway, on fire and crumbling into ashes; on each side of you, there was fighting; the only way out of the area was through the person who was currently swinging a dagger on the end of a rope while taking slow steps towards you. By the time you reached them, they'd have had ample amount of time to throw the rope in your direction, and your staff was no use in stopping it. In Okoye's hands it might have been; not in yours.

They moved quicker than you could, twisting their body and using the momentum to throw the end of the rope towards you. It approached too fast for you to even try deflecting it, the metal shining as it whistled through the air.

You saw a flash of black move quickly in your peripheral, and it was easy to liken it to a shadow cast by one of the many people in the clearing. But then that flash of black moved closer, and much quicker than the dagger moved; and then something heavy was barreling into the side of you.

The initial impact was enough to knock the wind straight out of you, leaving you almost dizzy with the loss. You expected to be thrown like a ragdoll onto the ground, followed by coming face to face with yet another threat to your life; but the arms around you weren't tight with the intention of subduing you.

You could feel one of their hands protecting your head as you skidded across the bumpy ground. Not only that, but they had also maneuvered you so that you were half on top of them, causing them to take the brunt of the fall. The voice that grunted in your ear sounded familiar, as did the feeling of their arms holding you closer to them, even after you came to a stop. The breath that had been knocked out of you became stuck in your throat as you attempted to draw it in once more, your head raising in alarm and instantly coming face to face with black, silver, and gold.

"Why are you out here?!"

"Where the hell have you been?!"

Both you and Shuri's voices battled to be heard over the other, the same level of indignation and surprise lacing your words. As you gazed down at her, her mask retracted, showing her wide eyed and shocked faced. The relief you had felt at hearing her voice tripled at the sight of her, unharmed, albeit a little angry.

Her hands moved to grab your arms before she sat up, pulling you with her. The threat was all but forgotten as you gripped each other's arms, basking in the sudden but relieving presence of the other. She only stepped back slightly to let her eyes run over your dirtied and bruised figure, and the sudden blaze that appeared in her eyes rivaled the fires surrounding you. Maybe it was the warmth from the fires, but you could've sworn that your skin grew warmer where her hands touched you.

"Y/N, you can't be out here- why are you out here?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as she pulled you closer, her head leaning down to meet your eyes desperately. Her voice was hoarse, undoubtedly a result of the smoke and her yelling throughout the battle. Your was just as hoarse as you answered, and it was a lot more winded than hers.

"Its not like I came looking to fight! I was trying to help a kid and then got chased- is this really the time to talk about this?!"

A noise close to a growl left her mouth as she looked around, seeing that the two of you were surrounded by Doras and cultists alike. The person who had thrown the rope dart at you had at some point been knocked unconscious, and it wasn't hard to guess by who; especially after seeing Aneka's figure standing over her. You supposed it was a good thing, seeing that the cultists' numbers had dwindled significantly, but there were still a few fights going on around you that drew your attention. Shuri noticed the same thing, but it seemed to reassure her enough to the point where she could focus solely on you.

You hadn't felt her hands sliding upwards until one landed on your shoulder while the other gently tilted your face from side to side. Her eyebrows met in a frown as she inspected you, but you could do nothing but stand there and fight the chills that her touch evoked.

"You should have gone with the villagers. Or hidden. Or done anything that would have kept you from here."

The worry was apparent in her voice, but so was the slightly scolding tone she had taken on. It was the same one Okoye used when you did something wrong in training, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes. Had you been in a normal setting and not bruised and aching all over, maybe you would have found it slightly endearing. You would have even cracked a joke or shot back something smart; but now you were just focused on how ironic it was that she was speaking to you about you the risk of your actions when she had run face first towards an active bomb.

"Trust me, I would have rather gone with the villagers and avoided all of this. But I didn't, and now we're here, so…now what?"

You raised a challenging eyebrow, your head tilting slightly. There was a small part of you that acknowledged the lie behind your words, as sometime during the night you had come to the conclusion that you'd had no problem laying cultists out; but you wouldn't mention that to Shuri. It would only result in her frown deepening and a more intense scolding being directed towards you.

Your answer satisfied her, albeit temporarily, as she turned to face the figure who approached the two of you. The fighting had come to an end, unbeknownst to you, and while Okoye approached you, the rest of the Dora Milaje worked on rounding up the cultists that they could find.

It was hard to tell your body that the fighting was over, your limbs remaining tensed and shaking slightly with adrenaline. The sensation made your brain run on overdrive, causing your eyes to dart any and everywhere, even as Okoye spoke.

"We're rounding up every cultist we can, and we plan on questioning a good majority of them. Ayo and Aneka will stay and oversee the cleanup. We should make our way back to the palace and speak about our next move." She shot Shuri a look that you couldn't quite discern, and it worried you.

Shuri spared her a glance, her jaw tightening at its silent implications before looking back at you. There was a guarded look in her eye, and you immediately chalked it up to her still being in a battle-influenced mindset, and not because she was pulling away once again.

The circumstances were familiar, as they had led to Shuri pushing you away the first time. The festival, both of you facing an element of danger, you once again coming out of it with battle wounds; it made sense for you to be nervous.

Watching Okoye and Shuri communicate silently was only a warning that you should be nervous about other matters, but you'd surely find out why sooner or later.

******

You had every intention of asking every Dora you knew how they dealt with the adrenaline drops after battles. Despite all of them being fully trained and undoubtedly used to the adrenaline drop you were experiencing, you would gratefully take any advice they had to give. It was becoming increasingly harder to focus and comprehend the words falling from Shuri, Okoye, and Eza's mouths. The conference room that had become a frequent meeting location was too bright, and the chair you were in somehow pressed into every single bruise you sported on your body. You were growing closer to the definition of 'overstimulated'.

"Wait, lemme get this straight," you leaned forward in the chair you were sitting in, hands raising to rub at your face. "The jewelry shop owner, Mr. Memvaba, almost joined the cult- uh, Harbingers of Bast- at first?"

All three women nodded in tandem, confirming your words. Your eyes closed as you tried to recount the events they had just relayed to you, including the conversation that they had with Mr. Memvaba and what had come of it.

"Okay. So after he agreed to be inducted, they took him to another site- a site that he doesn't know or remember the location of- where they started to initiate him. After hearing the terms and agreements of the cult-"

"The cult's values, yes-"

"- he changed his mind on the spot, which resulted in them attacking him?" You heard Shuri's correction, but you were quite frankly too tired to acknowledge it with other than a quick nod. Your fatigue didn't stop the questions from popping into your mind, but it did make it a struggle to articulate them.

"How did he get away? I doubt that they'd let him get away, especially after seeing a spot that they probably consider important or sacred."

Your worries that your question didn't make sense eased as you noticed the looks on their faces. Eza was the first one to speak, answering your question.

"According to him, a group from the border patrol traveled through the area at the same time, scaring them away before they could hurt him more, or do worse. The patrol group drove him to the hospital where he was admitted, though the attack caused some…memory problems." She ended her statement with a sigh, leaning her head on her propped-up fist.

The night had quite obviously taken a toll on everyone present, though some of you were better at playing it off than others. Eza, who had found herself in the midst of a group of panicked villagers and fighting off any cultist that approached was just as dirty and exhausted as you, so you didn't feel alone in your fatigue. You only wondered if her body was as close to collapsing as yours was.

"So…he doesn't remember anything?" Your indignation was clear as you quickly looked up at her, your eyebrows furrowed. "Not a single thing?"

"He only remembers being approached by followers of Harbingers of Bast, being asked if he was 'ready for her coming,' and then being blindfolded and put in a vehicle. They didn't say a word on the trip, he just barely remembers arriving at the location they picked, and his memory of the initiation itself is muddled and almost incomprehensible."

The frustration you felt wasn't directed at the man, as he had been through a traumatizing situation and his brain had done what it needed to protect him; but you were frustrated about the circumstances that were just constantly stacked against you all. For every indication that the situation was close to being resolved, a new obstacle waited just around the corner. It was maddening enough to the point where you couldn't fathom the frustration Shuri felt; you didn't know if you could at this moment in time.

A sigh mixed with an imperceptible groan left your mouth, your head lowering until it could rest on the table's top. The coolness of the surface sent a small shock through you, but you didn't move; you were too busy forcing thought upon thought of what would happen next onto your exhausted brain.

We don't know who their leader is. We don't know where they operate. We don't know what they plan on doing next.

Why were they there at the same time as you? Was it a planned attack? Had they known that you all would be there, or had it been a coincidence? Had you all brought them to the village?

There were more questions than answers when it came to your progress, and thinking about it only made the night worse. It made the headache that had been slowly forming in your temple expand until it felt like the woman from earlier had her rope wrapped tautly around your skull. The position you had found yourself in sent both sensations of pain and relief through your body. Your arched back pulled and constricted the bruises you had earned while your muscles sighed in relief as you rested your weight on the table.

"We should rest for the night." Despite having no room for disagreement in her voice, Okoye's words were spoken as softly as they could be. It signaled that although the night had been absolute hell, now it was time to accept what had happened and focus on what had yet to happen.

"We'll meet tomorrow to discuss our next course of action. Until then, clean yourself up. Get some rest. This is far from over."

Despite being given as orders, there was a hint of concern underlying her words, and as you raised your head to meet her eyes, you could see that they looked at you with concern and another emotion that you could liken only to sympathy.

"We won't train tomorrow morning. You need all the rest you can get."

"W-what?" Her words made you quickly sit up, your hands grasping the edge of the table at the soreness radiating through your limbs. "No, I'll be fine after going to sleep. We can train- I need to train."

Maybe it was that same sympathy in her eyes that made you ask for the very thing your body was dreading. Maybe it was the knowledge that with the training you had acquired so far, you had taken down a man twice your size on your own; what else could you accomplish if you continued training?

Or maybe it was the feeling that, after a night of events that had changed so much, one more change was being added to that list. Maybe it was pathetic, but with the night's events came a sense of unpredictability that washed over you with an intensity you couldn't ignore. The consistency you associated with training was being threatened by none other than the people who had already taken a good portion of your sense of safety.

The realization prickled at your skin.

"You need to rest. We need you with a clear mind tomorrow."

Your mouth opened, ready to argue against Okoye's words, but her previously sympathetic eyes had turned to a scolding look- one that dared you to argue with her. Even in your aggravated, hurt state, you knew better than to do so, and it showed in the way you clenched your jaw before nodding wordlessly.

The silence was too loud as it settled over the room. The sound of the blast rumbled in your ears, not quite vivid, but apparent enough to make you wince slightly in the silence. You were grateful when Eza pushed back from the table, standing and placing a hand on your back. As much as you liked the older woman, you had to fight to keep from shrugging it off. It was no fault of hers, but entirely because of the overstimulation your senses were slowly starting to experience.

You didn't look as she nodded at Okoye and Shuri before walking out of the conference room, shutting the door quietly behind her. The silence continued until, with a short, curt nod from Shuri, Okoye turned and followed right behind Eza. Before the door closed, she shot you a look that seemed to reiterate her words; a warning, recommendation, and order wrapped into one look.

The chair across from you was pulled out, letting Shuri sit in it while she was turned toward you. Your gaze rested on her clasped hands, making her lean forward slightly. She placed her elbows on her knees, dipping her head slightly to meet your gaze.

The concern in her eyes was undeniable as they roamed slightly over your limbs before connecting back with yours.

"I can give you something for any pain you are feeling."

Her words were hesitant, but the softness of her voice slightly cured your desire for some kind of comfort, but not just any kind of comfort; her comfort. The realization wasn't startling, as it had always been there, buried deep in your being. Even when the two of you weren't on the best of terms, it was always there, waiting to be tapped into and waiting to be cured, even for just a second.

You basked in the bit of comfort her voice gave before realizing that you hadn't responded. You took a shaky breath before shaking your head slightly.

"Uh- no, I'm fine. Just a few bruises- nothing a nice shower won't help."

She had barely spoken on the flight back to the palace except to ask if you were okay. It hadn't concerned you, as no one had spoken much.; you had all been too caught up in your own thoughts about what had happened. Now, you took the time to look closely at her, trying to discern the thoughts that passed quickly over her face.

Confusion, anger, exhaustion…fear.

That last emotion coated her words as her face shifted slightly, her eyebrows furrowing and eyes becoming guarded.

"What were you thinking, Y/N? You should have found somewhere safe to hide- anywhere but in the middle of that fight."

"I was actually looking for you. And speaking of safety- what the hell were you thinking, running straight towards the explosion?"

Your reply was quick, sitting right on the tip of your tongue. It was a question that you had been wanting to ask since the moment it happened, and now that you had the chance, you could feel your own frustration rising.

The sigh mixed with the flash of indifference that crossed her face made your eyebrows furrow. It was apparent that she thought you were overreacting, but you felt you were reacting in a perfectly logical way.

Maybe not perfectly logical, but your reaction was definitely understandable- at least in your eyes. And despite being afraid to label the feelings that had caused your worries, you could still point out the reasoning behind them. But as the conversation continued, you worried less about how logical your reasoning was, and more about how Shuri couldn't see why you felt the way you did.

"I was thinking that I have a suit made out of vibranium and that I could handle it."

"Well, maybe I was thinking that I could handle being there. And I kind of did, might I add."

Emphasis on the 'kind of', but you wouldn't let her know that. Telling her how you had struggled a bit to get away from one person would prove her point in her eyes, which was ironic because it proved the exact opposite in yours. You knew her words were coming from a place of worry and care, but so were yours; she just wasn't willing to hold them to the same light because of the circumstances that differed between the two of you- namely, the fact that she was the Black Panther.

"You could have died tonight!"

You attempted to keep your voice calm, but it only resulted in Shuri seeing it as you not bothering to care. The mere thought of you not caring about your own safety is what made her stand up before walking a few steps away. Her hands rubbed down her face in frustration, and that same frustration echoed in your words as you watched.

"I could've- we all could've. But I didn't."

"Just because you didn't doesn't mean that you weren't reckless! How can you not see that?"

You reminded yourself what Deja Vu was as you stood up in indignation. It was yet another argument between the two of you, but the only difference was neither of you could pretend as if you didn't care. This argument was taking place because you both cared deeply for the other; it didn't help, though, that neither of you could outright say what you longed to say.

Right now, those undeniable and unadulterated feelings of affection could only be expressed through words that were sharpened by the overstimulation of the night's events and seeing the other in danger.

"Shuri, the only thing I saw was you running headfirst toward an active bomb, so don't lecture me about being reckless!"

"I can afford to be reckless because I have the herb! You cannot!"

"You can't be reckless like that when you have people who need you! You have a country that needs you, you have friends who need you- I need you!"

Your words echoed back at you with a realization that made you falter slightly. The chair beneath your tightly gripped hands was cold to the touch but quickly warmed under your skin.

Shuri dropped her hands that had been waving animatedly, both of them falling to her sides. Her lips parted, and even from your distance, you could see her breath hitch. The muscles beneath her panther suit tensed and untensed, almost as if she were trying to decide whether to walk towards you or turn away.

If she turned away…

It was all suddenly too much. The adrenaline fading from your veins, leeching every bit of remaining energy you had and making your limbs shake uncontrollably; the quick flashes in your mind of the destruction and pain you had seen, and experienced, earlier in the night; the broken and shocked look on Shuri's face at your outburst.

You couldn't bring yourself to take your words back or even regret them, as they had come from a part of your being that was so raw that they were undeniable and powerful in their delivery. They hung in the air between you two, making the lab appear smaller than it was; it caused a charged energy to settle over the both of you, and you knew that it would only continue to grow until one of you broke it.

But it soon became clear that you would have to be the one to break it, and the feeling only added another blow to your already vulnerable state. Your chest tightened with emotion that you didn't want to show.

"Shuri, I-"

You raised the heels of your palms to your eyes, pressing against them until all you could see were black spots, and until you knew that you'd be able to keep the tears at bay. It took a few seconds of which you spent swaying slightly in your spot, taking deep breaths that hurt with each inhale and exhale.

You didn't see the small step Shuri took towards you, nor the way her hands clenched and unclenched with the desire to reach out to you.

"Yes, you are the Black Panther," The defeat in your words made Shuri wince, the action going unnoticed by you. "and yes, you can do things most can't. But that doesn't mean that you can just risk your life without thinking of what would happen if you didn't come back. You have no idea what I would-"

The words became stuck in your throat as you lowered your hands, your red and swollen eyes meeting Shuri's. You hadn't known what to expect when looking at her, but seeing her eyebrows furrowed in what looked like contemplation as she stared back made you pause.

A village in her country had just been attacked by a group who was increasingly becoming a problem, and here you were, the closest you had ever gotten to expressing your affections for the young royal. You took her silence as her not knowing what to say; or maybe she knew what she needed to say, but she didn't know how to say it.

Maybe this wasn't what she needed, or wanted, right now.

The thought was the last needed blow to your wounded vulnerability, and with a short nod of your head, you stepped around the chair. Your feet carried you slowly to the door, your limbs too tired to even lift your feet completely. The door handle felt like the last obstacle of the night as you grabbed it, as part of you wanted badly to stay and demand she say something. The more prideful, exhausted part of you demanded that you leave immediately and find solace in the small amount of sleep you'd try to get.

"You're more than just a Queen and protector, Shuri."

You words weren't angry as you left her in the conference room. Dejected? Sure. Exhausted with a tiredness that went way beyond a physical feeling? Absolutely. Aside from professing yourself to her, something you weren't even sure was a good idea, there was nothing you could do.

You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and they both had taken on the shape of the young Queen you had left in the room.

*******

"You're more than just a Queen and protector, Shuri."

Your words stayed on Shuri's mind long after you left her in the conference room. She only took a break from dwelling on them to chastise herself for letting you walk out in the first place, and it took every bit of her willpower to not follow right behind you,

Igwala- coward she had called herself while watching you walk away. Half of her, the more reasonable part, she'd say, screamed at her to ask for but a minute of your time to explain how sorry she was for putting you through that. She wanted to reassure you that she needed you as well, which is why she ran straight for the explosive. She hadn't seen an active bomb; she had seen a threat to your life, and the lives of those around you, and she had acted without thinking. The thinking had come later after she had seen the disbelief and relief mix on your exhausted face, and it had only increased after your departure. It only continued to increase as she lay awake in bed, tossing and turning with every thought of what could've been.

She had fully expected these thoughts to keep her from getting a peaceful night's rest despite the night itself being the opposite of peaceful. But it wasn't the remnants of the thoughts that had woken her up.

Shuri couldn't exactly pinpoint what made her shoot upright in her bed, her chest heaving on air that seemed too little and too much all at once. Her mind was in too much of an unspecified panic that she didn't even take notice of how late or early it was. She only cared about the very real, very debilitating feeling of unbridled fear currently washing over her body, each wave seeming to scream one thing and one thing only.

Y/N.

Chalking it up to her troubled thoughts bleeding into the start of a nightmare or dream of some kind seemed the logical thing to do at first. It had happened before, the subject of your safety starring in a nightmare of hers, but she couldn't remember any nightmare happening before waking up. And even if she had been in the midst of having one, she couldn't focus on it now; there was a feeling of dread spreading throughout her entire being that took all of her attention.

Chills erupted across her skin as she threw back her covers, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her breath shuddered on its way out while her eyes closed momentarily in an attempt to ground herself. She could ask Griot for your status, or she could get up herself to check on you- solely for the purpose of calming her worries. Or she could leave you alone; she had already disappointed you enough for the night.

Or she could do what every iota of her being was pushing her to do, and that was to set her eyes on you, even for just a second to reassure herself that you were okay. It was foolish of her to think that she'd be able to go back to sleep after being woken up by her worries centered around you; it was a realization that came right before she stood and made her way to the door.

Maybe if she just saw that you were alright, it would ease her worries. Would you invite her in like last time? Would she leave before you woke up…like last time?

However, her body froze the second she touched the door handle, and it wasn't because of her thoughts. It wasn't because of her hesitation to face you. It was because of the sound that she could now hear floating through the walls of her room.

The heightened senses she had been gifted could be both a blessing and a burden; but now, they were something that brought only heartbreak, as they allowed her to hear the cries that tumbled from your lips.

The door was wrenched open without a care of the damage it could cause. Her feet propelled her down the familiar path to your room. Every second that passed where you weren't in front of her was a second she'd regret. Her heart had quickened to the point where she could no longer feel it; all she could feel was the anxiety and fear that made her chest feel as if it had finally caved in.

The hallway seemed too long as she bounded down it. Her steps seemed too slow as your door finally came into view. Her heart seemed to stop altogether as your cries and whimpers increased in volume, and as she finally approached your door, she could practically feel them settle over her entire being. They made weak right where she stood, her hand reaching and grasping the handle of your door for stability.

The sound that left her mouth was borderline mournful as she found your door to be locked, and she had just tightened her grip, fully intending on breaking the handle when a subtle click rang out. And then she was throwing herself beyond your door, her eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness of your room while her ears led her in the direction of your being. When her eyes finally settled on you, the weight of what she was seeing forced her to stagger to your side.

Your eyes moved around wildly beneath your eyelids, showing that a nightmare had you in its grip and had no intention of letting go anytime soon. Your curled-up figure shook slightly, as you had kicked the covers off of your body at some point, and both of your hands gripped the pillow beneath your head, the fabric stretching taught under your stiff fingers.

The fear that marred your face echoed in the words that slipped past your lips as you shifted in distress. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and as if it wanted to cause her the most pain, the shaft of moonlight grazed your face just enough to perfectly illuminate the tears that had carved a path into your brown skin. Your eyebrows were scrunched in distress, and she longed for nothing more than to reach forward and smooth away the frown that had taken up place on your face.

But it wasn't just the realization that you were having a nightmare that twisted Shuri's stomach, making her feel as if she were about to become sick.

"Please…don't leave."

"Shuri, don't…you can't leave me…"

Her eyes burned at the words that surged out of your mouth. Her muscles locked up, not exactly knowing how to proceed, but knowing that you were stuck in a part of your mind that she couldn’t protect you from. It was another failure on her part that would torment her.

She raised a hand, running the backs of her shaky, unsteady fingers against the tear tracks. Her fingers collected the tears, wanting nothing more than to catch every single one before they could fall, heavy and weighed down with fear and pain. They were immediately replaced with more as she watched. 

"Y/N...sithandwa, wake up. You're okay. You're...safe." The word became stuck in her throat as she allowed herself to dwell on it for a second too long.

How many times had she assured you that you were safe with her? And how many times had she failed to uphold that statement that had always been a promise in her eyes? How could she continue to reassure you when she couldn't even keep you safe in her own country?

How could she call herself a protector of her country and the ones she loved when she couldn't protect the one person who was the object of all of her desires?

Her other hand raised to slip under yours, unfurling your fingers from the sheet so that they could curl around hers instead. She brought them to her lips, pressing a kiss against them and hoping that the gesture would rouse you from your own mind, or at the very least bring you a small amount of comfort.  

 Nightmares were a familiar concept to Shuri, having plagued her dreams after every traumatic event she had ever been through. Her father's death had been accompanied by dreams of the explosion that had taken place; she had woken up, swearing that she could smell smoke and taste dust. The time Killmonger ruthlessly threw T'Challa over Warrior Falls; she'd wake up with tears that wouldn't stop until her brother held her with the reassurance that he was still there. The Blip had resulted in her dreaming of the battle and the moments before she faded into nothingness, the image of her skin turning to literal particles forever seared into her mind. 

T'Challa's death, brought on by a sickness she couldn't cure, had tortured her with the images of her beloved brother who was usually strong and bright-eyed, a smile stretching as wide as his skin would allow, confined to a hospital bed and the color in his eyes as she could only watch in hopelessness. Her brother hadn't been there to reassure her of his presence anymore, and she hadn't wanted anyone else to come into her room lest they see the way she had struggled to find her breath, her eyesight blurry and her chest aching with grief that threatened to choke her. 

Her mother's death...that had plagued her dreams with a crystal clear repeat of that day, except she had been in the throne room when Namor had attacked, and she had only been able to watch as her mother was lost to an inky blackness that she couldn't penetrate. The nightmare had always ended with her mother's hand fading into that blackness as an unseen force pulled her further away. The nightmare still ended with that being the last thing Shuri saw, to this very day. It still made her wake up with a fear that transcended all understanding because it was just as intense and visceral as the moment it happened. 

She could see that same fear on your face, tightening the corners of your lips and making your frown deepen. Only this time, she knew that whatever caused your fear had to do with her. 

Her eyes watered. Her throat constricted with a cry that wouldn't come out, choosing instead to choke her until it made her chest burn. She imagined that you felt the same, but hoped that it was only half of what she felt; the thought of you feeling that same unadulterated fear because of her was unfathomable.

Her voice cracked painfully as she spoke.

"S'thandwa, I'm right here-"

"love you...Shuri...stay with..."

And then she couldn't breathe. She couldn't draw breath in because your words had sucked all of the air out of the room, along with every breath that circulated through her body. She had to bury her face into the side of your bed to keep the whimper from escaping her mouth, brought on by the pain coating your words; brought on the profession you had just subconsciously made.

Her movements were prompted only by the desire coursing through her veins as she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the crown of your head. She let her eyes close, knowing that if she were to leave them open, the tears that had gathered would surely fall and join yours on your skin. Her thumbs rubbed away the tears that continued to fall as she breathed you in, her heart subconsciously matching yours as it continued to pound away. 

"Ndiyakuthanda..."

The phrase was whispered into your skin. She willed it to travel through any and every aspect of your nightmare until it reached your consciousness. She willed it to bring you back from that horrifying visual and back to her. 

Your cries turned to sniffles that interrupted your breathing every few seconds, and your grip on the pillow beneath your head lightened; but her hand remained clutched in yours, even as your breathing evened out and your pulse slowed to a steady pace. Shuri hadn't moved an inch, except to pull back enough for her eyes to once again land on your face. Your eye movement had stopped, but your eyebrows had furrowed once more. 

The hand that gripped hers tightened momentarily as a sigh left your mouth, your head shifting slightly. 

The only warning Shuri received was the muffled sound of your heart increasing slightly- a sign that you were slowly waking up. The hand that gripped hers tightened momentarily as a sigh left your mouth, your head shifting slightly.

She didn't know what caused her to do what she did next; all she knew was that the anger she felt toward herself at that moment rivaled the first time she had let you walk away from her, anger in your steps and betrayal in your eyes. Her self-inflicted insults of being a coward increased towards herself.

At the first signs of you waking up, she gently slipped her hand out of yours, laying it on the bed next to you, before staggering to her feet. Instead of staying and offering soft apologies for her actions, or for anything else she had done that had caused you to go through this, she let her feet carry her to your door. And only after she had cleared your doorway, shutting it softly behind her, did she let her own tears fall.

They scorched her skin with resentment towards herself as she pressed herself to the wall right outside of your door. They only increased as she heard your small gasp of awareness, your body shifting against the soft sheets as you presumably reminded yourself where you were.

They threatened to overwhelm her as a forlorn and hoarse cry escaped your throat, bordering on a whine that was quickly muffled by the fabric of the pillow. The sound was heavier than the ones you had let out subconsciously, and the realization as to why forced Shuri to push away from the wall and away from you so that she could drown herself in the pain, the confusion, and the longing that drew a visceral reaction out of her.

Her brain worked on overdrive, trying to find a reason as to why she ran; but it was also frozen in the moment when you had uttered those two words, followed by her name. It was frozen in the moment when you had clutched desperately at her hand, your face scrunching up in an expression she'd give anything to never see contort your features again.

It was frozen at the moment when it made her realize that her heart was genuinely, fervently, and wholly yours. There was no denying that fact- she had no desire to deny that fact.

But as she let her feet carry her past her room, through the familiar hallways that seemed to close in and to her lab, she came to realize what she was running away from.

She wasn't running away from you, or from her desires that focused solely on you; she was running from the fear that she wasn't worthy of your love. She was running from that inadequate feeling that flooded her being whenever she entertained the thought that you returned her affections- except it had now increased after learning that you did.

Shuri wanted nothing more than to give in to the yearning and the need to call you hers, as she was already yours in every sense she could think of; but it couldn't stop her from confronting the different times she had hurt you. It only made those memories harder to relive, while also providing a painful and valuable lesson.

She was on the edge of a chasm, and her limited vulnerability and acceptance of her own flaws were what separated her from the other side; a side that promised her solace and a love unlike any other…in the shape of you. She'd have to cross over that chasm- step into the deep end and deal with whatever awaited her.

She'd have to deal with the anger at herself for hurting you; the pain at seeing how she had hurt you; and the fear that came with letting herself experience that vulnerability once again, after years of pushing it away.

There was a pause in her thoughts as she finally entered her lab, her eyes roaming over it and seeking the kind of familiarity and comfort that would possibly make the process easier…but everywhere she looked, there was a sign of you. There was the bag she had gotten you from the festival, completely washed and void of any signs of the events from that night.

There was a scarf she had lent to you on one of your first days so that you could hold your locs back from your face as you watched her work.

"Shuri, it's your scarf, you keep it. I'll find a hair tie or something."

"You have a lot more hair than I do, so please." 

She had held the black and gold scarf out to you, watching in barely concealed adoration as you tied it around the edges of your locs, fanning it out so that it covered a good portion of them. She hadn't been able to get the image of you wearing the colors of her suit out of her mind since then. 

There was a sticky note where you two had played at least 5 rounds of tic-tac-toe while Okoye had half-heartedly chastised Shuri on the 'American traits' she had picked up. Her words had floated right over you, neither of you really listening as much as you should've.

"I think you cheated."

A soft laugh had tumbled from your lips at her question that had been asked with a faux-grumpiness. Despite her tone, she couldn't have hid the small smile on her face if she wanted to. 

"How do you cheat in tic-tac-toe?" 

"I don't know, but you did."

Your laugh had grown in volume until she had gently nudged your side, her eyes flickering quickly to Okoye who paced the space in front of you two. You had quieted down and nodded, but not before pulling the sticky note closer to you and writing something on it.

'Queen of Wakanda beaten by the Queen of tic-tac-toe'.

But then there was the cradle you had been placed in while being treated for poison. She hadn't been able to do anything but stand by your side while tests were run and antidote after antidote was drafted.

“Her heart rates at 53 BPM. It’s too slow, she’s experiencing mild bradycardia. Early stages of cyanosis-” She hadn’t been able to suppress her frightened gasp as you started to convulse on the gurney you had been placed on. She grabbed your hand, squeezing it for her sake just as much as it was for your sake. She kept her eyes on you, blinking away the tears that had gathered, once again sending plea after plea to Bast.

And then there was the slight dent in the wall, created by the chair she had kicked with her enhanced strength. The sound of its impact rang in her ears as she stared at it, eyes wide and unblinking; burning as her tears continued to fall.

Your hands had raised on their own, trembling harshly and outstretched as if to block something hurtling at you. Your eyes had clenched shut and your body had tensed, waiting for a blow that would never come. Your jaw had clenched in an effort to keep an alarmed yelp back…and Shuri had seen all of it happen as soon as her anger got the better of her.

The sight of you recoiling away from her had made her face twist into one of utter sorrow, her eyebrows had furrowed and her lips had parted on an apology that she couldn’t seem to get out.

In a situation that had already placed a significant amount of stress and dread on your shoulders, she had only exacerbated it. Instead of taking away your fear, she had added to it.

Each reminder stripped her soul until it was nothing but a breeding ground of negative emotions that she had to confront. If she wanted to be better for you...she'd have to confront them. 

In order to confront them, she'd have to step off of that deep end, into that awaiting chasm. 

"Griot...soundproof the lab."

The feeling that had been gradually building in her chest finally found its outlet, and with a guttural cry that forced her to curl in on herself, she stepped off of that deep end and let herself feel.

***

Ndiyakuthanda : I love you

***

A/N: As an apology for this part, this is me reassuring that you and Shuri are only going to grow closer from here on out. I PROMISE! Seeing and hearing you in distress all because of her even in your subconscious mind, has really made pull her head out of her ass. The sight of you almost being taken out during battle also helped, so look forward to that! <3

I hope y’all liked this part! Please like, reblog, and/or comment! All interaction is greatly appreciated and I’m very grateful for all of it! <33

Here is a link to a google forms for those of you who want to included on the taglist! I have a list, but a few of the usernames do not work, and I don’t know if its because of a tumblr thing or if some of you have changed their usernames- whatever it is, the google form will definitely help me! :)

Stay safe, y’all!

Taglist: Tag list:   @shinsousliya , @honey-teaaaaaaaa , @tchhairbandhere , @jessiap , @zane2408 , @bananasplits-world , @yellowjacketmurder , @barkbarkbo , @butterflyybabe , @bananafishok , @zestgodtj , @mitsuya-takashi , @chaoticevilbakugo , @cedeni-beanie , @shuri-my-love , @kingstormpostsshit , @sailorsolar12 , @justariellove , @angelsmist , @eriksjournal , @mermaidchansons , @nil-eena , @paisholotus , @thesecretwriterblog , @brain-of-nekoma , @7tearsofatlantic , @simp4iwaizumi , @bumlyn , @jackdrawsjunk , @http-twyla , @cedeni-beanie , @taleiakirby ,  @borderlineacademia  , @ventingfanfics , @awolfcsworld , @bumlyn , @adharaoaklyn , @gfskwan , @sailorsolar12 , @mermaidchansons , @nil-eena , @thesecretwriterblog , @ghostlyboiii , @naomis-daydream , @serahxney , @dovesbeauty

[literaryavenger]

Obsessed

Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.

Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.

A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.

Masterlist

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-

“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.

You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.

Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.

But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.

What a lovely best friend you have.

Anyways.

Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.

“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.

She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?

Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.

Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.

“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 

Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.

So who the fuck is here just to see him? 

Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.

Big mistake.

“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.

“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”

Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”

You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.

You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.

Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.

You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.

You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.

“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.

There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.

“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.

God, you love this little girl.

You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.

Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.

“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 

You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.

She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.

It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 

Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.

What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.

Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.

Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.

He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.

So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.

But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.

Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 

It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.

Requested taglist: @vicmc624 @matchat3a @nerd-without-a-cause @sapphirebarnes @cjand10 @mostlymarvelgirl @julvrs @blackhawkfanatic @lillianacristina @armystay89 @imdoingbetternow @spookyparadisesheep @elizalexwil @aceofhearts25 @dontworryboutitsweetheartxx-blog @justab-eautifulmess @buggy14 @thedonswife13

[angelremnants]

Heat Waves l J. B. Barnes

PART ONE.⠀THROUGH THE SHIMMERING ROADS

summary : After years of manipulation by Hydra, Bucky Barnes must find his place in a world that has long moved on without him. With you, an independent and unwavering agent by his side, he reluctantly embarks on a transformative journey of recovery in Wakanda. Amid the kingdom's vibrant culture, your connection to Bucky deepens as he confronts personal demons and embrace the healing process. Bucky learns to welcome the warmth of new beginnings, understanding that even after winter's cold grip, the sun can shine through. Inspired by Heat Waves by Glass Animals.

pairing : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), slow burn, eventual romance, fluff, mild angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of PTSD, trauma recovery, themes of mental health, anxiety, mentions of mind control/brainwashing, minor violence, mild language, physical tension. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 15.1k

author's notes : The people have voted, and a promise is a promise: here is the long awaited Bucky fic. I was originally gonna write about one of the spideys for this song, but the idea of exploiting Buck's journey in Wakanda struck me and I couldn't get it off my mind since then—though, I'm not exactly following Civil War's plot here, so beware. This is quite long, so I'm dividing the fic into two parts.

My lonely ass couldn't find anything better to do on New Year's Eve than write, so I hope that the story appeals to you and that, unlike yours truly, you're enjoying the festivities. I wish you all a happy new year to come, & Wakanda forever. <3

NEW ! — Find the continuation here.

(ao3 version)

The fluorescent lights of SHIELD headquarters buzz faintly, casting a pale glow across the sleek metallic walls of the hallway. The atmosphere is heavy, a tension so thick it seems to creep under your skin as you hurry past the agents going about their duties. They barely glance your way, but their hurried movements and hushed whispers set your nerves on edge. Something’s wrong—very wrong.

Maria Hill’s voice over the comm has been short and clipped, urgent in a way that leaves no room for questions. “Report to Briefing Room C immediately. It’s about Barnes.” There are no further details, just enough to make your heart pound as you practically sprint down the corridor, scenarios running wild through your mind. Has Bucky been injured? Is he captured again? Or worse—has he been triggered?

The doors to Briefing Room C slid open with a faint hydraulic hiss. The moment you stepped inside, the scene hit you like a punch to the gut.

The room is dimly lit, its walls lined with glowing monitors displaying various feeds and data streams. Fury stands at the far end, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the blue-green glow of a tactical screen. His expression is as unreadable as ever, but the tightness in his jaw speaks volumes. Maria Hill is at his side, her posture rigid, arms crossed as she stares at something across the room.

And then you saw him.

Bucky is seated in the middle of the room, his hands and feet restrained by glowing vibranium cuffs. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his long, dark hair obscuring part of his face. The metallic glint of his left arm reflects the light, but what strikes you most is the sheer tension radiating from him. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think his teeth might shatter, and his eyes were wild, distant, as if he were seeing something—or someone—no one else could. The moment you stepped further into the room, his head jerked toward you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. For a split second, time seemed to freeze, and in that brief instant, you saw the depth of the pain and confusion that was consuming him.

“You’re just gonna let him stay like that?” you asked, your voice sharp despite the knot forming in your stomach. Fury’s eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of uncertainty in them for the first time in a long while. It made your heart sink even further.

“It’s the only way to keep him contained,” Maria Hill replied, her voice cold but laced with an undercurrent of concern you weren’t sure you were imagining.

You took a step forward, your instincts screaming at you to do something—anything. You couldn’t just stand there and watch him suffer. But then, as if sensing your movement, Bucky’s body stiffened. His eyes flashed with panic as he struggled against his restraints.

“No,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and low. “No, please… don’t come any closer.” His breath was coming in ragged gasps now, his chest heaving as if he was suffocating.

You paused, your heart breaking at the sight of him, at the sound of his voice, so desperate and filled with fear. But you knew Bucky. You knew what he was capable of—and you knew that beneath the terror, there was still the man you trusted. The man you had once fought beside.

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he waged a war within himself. It was like watching someone trying to outrun their demons, knowing that they would never be fast enough.

Maria Hill’s voice cuts through the heavy silence. “Agent [Y/L/N].”

You tear your eyes away from Bucky and turn to Hill, your professional mask slipping into place. “What happened?”

Hill exchanges a glance with Fury, who gives a slight nod. “You might want to see this.”

You step closer to the monitor as Hill gestures to a technician. The screen flickers to life, displaying grainy footage from a street camera. It shows a busy city street, pedestrians weaving in and out of frame, and there, walking along the sidewalk, is Bucky.

He looked calm—serene, even—as he navigated the crowd. His leather jacket was zipped up against the wind, his gloved hands were shoved into his pockets. But then, a man appears from the edge of the frame, walking briskly toward him. You lean in, your brow furrowing as you study the stranger. There’s something off about him—his movements too deliberate, his gaze locked on Bucky with unnerving precision.

The man brushes past him, murmuring something too quiet for the audio to catch. Instantly, Bucky freezes. His entire body tenses, his head snapping to the side to follow the man. The shift is chilling. His shoulders were square, his posture rigid—almost predatory.

“No,” you whisper under your breath, your stomach twisting into knots.

The footage plays out like a nightmare. Bucky turns and closes the distance in two strides, grabbing the man by the throat and slamming him against the wall with terrifying force. The crowd scatters, screams echoing faintly in the background. The man struggles, but Bucky’s grip doesn’t falter. His expression is eerily blank—detached.

Before he can do more damage, a group of nearby S.H.I.E.L.D. agents intervenes. They move quickly, deploying stun darts that finally bring him to his knees after a brief but violent struggle. The feed ends abruptly, leaving the screen black.

You exhale shakily, your fists clenched at your sides.

“It was a Hydra operative,” Hill says, her voice as calm as ever, though her eyes betray a flicker of concern. “He used a fragment of the Winter Soldier’s trigger words. Not the full sequence, but enough to momentarily break through.”

“This wasn’t his fault,” you say firmly, your voice sharp as you turn to face them.

“No one’s saying it was,” Fury replies, stepping closer. “But this is a problem we can’t ignore. He was triggered. In public. If our agents hadn’t been nearby, this could’ve spiraled out of control.”

Your heart sank as the weight of the situation settled in. The footage, the raw power of Bucky’s reaction—it was all too familiar. Too dangerous. The fragment of the trigger words had done more than just snap him into action; it had ripped through the layers of control they’d fought so hard to establish, revealing the deadly force beneath.

You turned back to Bucky, who was still sitting motionless in his restraints, eyes hollow as if the memory of that moment played in his mind over and over. Your throat tightened as you couldn’t help but wonder—how much longer would it take before that darker side of him broke free for good?

“You said it was only a fragment,” you recalled with a tight voice and a racing mind. “How much more of that can he withstand?”

Hill’s expression was unreadable as she glanced at Fury, who looked as grim as ever. “We don’t know. But this wasn’t an isolated incident. There’s a pattern. Hydra operatives are still hunting for ways to manipulate him, to use him as a weapon again. And if they get their hands on him...” She let the implication hang in the air.

“Then we lose him,” you finished for her in a low tone.

Fury nodded once. “We can’t let that happen. Not again.”

You shake your head, your heart aching as you glance back at Bucky. He hasn’t said a word, but his silence is deafening. His shoulders are hunched, his breathing shallow, as if he’s trying to make himself smaller despite his restraints.

“This isn’t his doing,” you say quietly, your voice trembling with conviction as you turn back to Fury and Hill. “You know that.”

You gesture toward Bucky, your hands tightening into fists at your sides. “This isn’t who he is—not anymore. I’ve spent months working with him, watching him fight tooth and nail to reclaim his humanity. You don’t see the effort he puts in every single day to untangle himself from the chains Hydra left behind.”

You take a step closer to the table where Hill stands, your voice gaining strength. “He’s not the Soldier. Not even close. He’s a man who apologizes when he thinks he’s crossed a line, a man who can barely look at his reflection because he’s so haunted by what they made him do. And yet, despite all of that, he’s still here—still trying to do better.”

You then point toward the now-black monitor where the footage had played. “What you saw out there—that wasn’t him. That was a remnant, a ghost of the programming Hydra burned into him. He didn’t want that to happen. Do you have any idea how many times he’s told me he’s terrified of exactly this? Of hurting people again—of losing himself again?”

Fury remains stoic, but you don’t stop. You refuse to let them reduce Bucky to a liability.

“Do you know what it takes for him to even leave his apartment some days?” you continue, your voice breaking just slightly. “He’s had nights where he’s called me, barely able to breathe because of the nightmares. And still, he pushes forward. He goes to the market. He feeds stray cats. He shows up to his therapy sessions, even on the days he feels like a monster.”

You turn toward Bucky again, your gaze softening as you look at him. He still won’t meet your eyes, but his shoulders shift ever so slightly, as though your words are breaking through the thick wall of guilt that has wrapped itself around him.

“He’s made so much progress,” you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. “You might not see it in this room, but I do. He’s not the same man Hydra controlled. He’s more than what they turned him into. So don’t tell me he’s a problem we need to ‘solve.’ He’s a survivor who deserves a chance to heal.”

The room falls silent again, the weight of your words settling over everyone present. Fury breaks it with a dry tone. “Well, that was one hell of a speech. If this was a courtroom, Barnes would’ve walked free five minutes ago.”

Hill smirks faintly but quickly straightens her posture. “And that’s exactly what Wakanda is offering,” she says after a moment, her voice gentler than before. “We’re not trying to punish him, Agent [Y/L/N]. We’re trying to find a permanent solution to give him the chance to live without looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life.”

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “Wakanda?”

Hill nods, gesturing to a control panel beside her. The room dims slightly as holographic projections flicker to life above the table. A glowing map of Africa materializes, the continent's outline illuminated in soft blue light. Within seconds, the image zooms in on a secluded region encased in lush greenery and mountainous terrain, marked by golden energy fields pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

“This,” Hill begins, motioning to the projection, “is Wakanda. Or, at least, what they allow the world to see.”

The hologram shifts again, peeling back layers of dense jungle to reveal a city hidden beneath an intricate shield of shimmering gold. Sleek towers of black and silver rise high into the sky, their designs flowing seamlessly as if the earth itself shaped them. Vibrant streaks of energy—bright blues and radiant purples—course through the city like veins, fueling what looks like hovercrafts darting silently between buildings. The architecture is a breathtaking blend of modern sophistication and traditional roots, with murals of panthers and warriors etched into the structures.

You find yourself momentarily transfixed by the beauty of it all. “This is... incredible,” you murmur, your eyes reflecting the golden glow of the projection.

Hill nodded again. “Wakanda has technology and resources far beyond anything we can dream of. Their advancements in medicine and neuroscience are decades ahead of ours. They’ve recently opened limited communication with select parties, and we’ve exchanged information for resource purposes. In those discussions, we mentioned Barnes’ situation. They’ve offered their assistance.”

The hologram changed once more, this time displaying an intricate diagram of a human brain, with glowing red nodes scattered across its surface. Lines of text and equations scrolled beside it, too fast for her to catch more than snippets: neurological interference... synaptic pathways... subliminal programming... neural erasure protocol.

Hill pointed to the red nodes. “These represent the triggers Hydra embedded into his mind. Wakanda believes they can isolate and remove them without damaging his memories. Their vibranium-based technology allows for precision on a level we can’t achieve with traditional therapy or medical intervention.”

Another image appeared: a sleek, black table in a futuristic lab, surrounded by devices that looked as though they were pulled straight from science fiction. A glowing halo-like contraption floated above the table, pulsating with faint blue light. Beside it stood a tall figure clad in flowing robes—King T’Challa, the Black Panther himself. His expression was calm yet resolute as he extended a hand, as though offering help through the projection.

You tore your gaze from the holograms and glanced at Bucky. He was staring at the images too, his expression unreadable. His jaw clenched slightly, and his hands, restrained to the chair, twitched as though resisting the urge to reach out.

“Bucky,” you said softly, stepping toward him, but his gaze remained fixed on the projection. You turned back to Hill and Fury. “They’re sure they can do it? That they can completely remove the programming?”

Hill hesitated for a moment. “No one can guarantee a hundred percent success,” she admitted. “But if anyone has the capability, it’s Wakanda. And Barnes’ situation is urgent. The alternative is keeping him in custody indefinitely, which... we know isn’t the right solution.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening into fists. You turned back to the projection of Wakanda, the hope it represented mingling with the weight of what this meant for Bucky.

“They can help him,” Fury said, his tone low and steady, as though trying to reassure you. “And right now, that’s our best shot.”

You hesitated, glancing back at Bucky. “And Cap’?”

Hill and Fury exchanged a glance. Fury folded his arms and sighed. “Rogers’ tied up with another mission. Something that, frankly, only he can handle right now.”

“That’s not good enough,” you said sharply, your voice rising despite yourself. You took a step forward, your gaze steady. “Steve has been a cornerstone of Bucky’s progress. He’s more than his best friend—he’s his anchor. You’re asking him to go to Wakanda, to face this terrifyingly unknown situation, and you want to strip away the one person who’s been with him through all of it?”

Fury remained silent, his gaze unflinching, while Hill stepped in. Her tone was calm but resolute. “You’re not wrong, Agent. Rogers has been a crucial part of his progress, but that’s exactly why we need you now. You’ve been just as instrumental in helping Barnes rebuild himself. Steve can remind him of the past, but you’re the one who’s been guiding him into his newfound path.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Hill raised a hand. “I understand your concern. Trust me, we thought about this. But we can’t afford to have Rogers split his focus right now. His mission is critical to the broader stability of our operations. He’s still dealing with the fallout from the Sokovia Accords—missions and compromises that require his full attention. We need him focused on ensuring our larger efforts stay intact.”

You frowned, your heart aching with the weight of the responsibility being placed on you. You glanced back at Bucky, who still sat in silence, his hands flexing against his restraints as though they might disappear if he tried hard enough.

“You’re asking me to fill the role of someone who’s been his family since before Hydra,” you said quietly, your voice laced with doubt. “What if I’m not enough?”

Fury spoke again, his tone unexpectedly softer. “You don’t have to be Steve. You just have to be there. And right now, that’s what he needs most.”

The lump in your throat felt almost unbearable as you turned your gaze back to Bucky. You weren’t Steve. You couldn’t be. But you couldn’t let him face this alone either.

“You’re one of his closest confidants,” Hill said simply. “And more importantly, he trusts you. If he’s going to Wakanda, you’re going with him.”

Before you could respond, the sound of metal striking metal echoed through the room. The sharp, jarring noise cut through the air, and Bucky’s metal arm slammed against the chair’s armrest with such force that the walls seemed to vibrate with it. His body was rigid, his every muscle taut, fighting against restraints that seemed like nothing more than a reminder of what he couldn’t escape. His jaw clenched, and his blue eyes burned with a cold fury that thickened the air around him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky growled, his voice low and full of frustration, as if daring anyone to challenge him. The words were barely more than a snarl.

A rush of helplessness surged inside you, but you pushed it down, steadying your breath. You took a step closer, your hands trembling slightly but not enough to stop you. You could feel the intensity of his anger radiating off him, yet you didn’t flinch. You couldn’t.

“Bucky,” you spoke, your voice cutting through the tense air, cool and deliberate, like a measured exhale after a long, heavy pause. You crouched, your movements unhurried, and the sound of your shoes on the floor felt muted in the charged atmosphere between you. You reached for his forearm, your fingers lingering above it for a heartbeat before making contact—steady and unflinching, a quiet gesture meant to ground him.

He didn’t react at first. His focus remained fixed on the metal restraints, his body rigid with tension, the edges of his breath jagged, as if each intake of air was another battle to hold back the chaos. The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

But then, slowly, his gaze shifted, reluctant, as if the effort required to meet your eyes was a struggle. The shift in his expression was subtle—a flicker of something, an internal conflict you knew all too well. You could see the strain, the stubborn defiance buried beneath the surface of his wariness, and a deep, unspoken fear.

“James,” you said again, not a command but an invitation—an offering, as if asking him to join you in the quiet place between conflict and trust. You didn’t need to fill the silence with words. The air was thick enough with understanding, so much so that his silence spoke volumes.

His chest rose and fell unevenly, his eyes wild, full of a tension that reached past anger, into a place where self-preservation and vulnerability tangled.

You leaned in just a fraction, bringing your voice lower—closer. “This isn’t about punishment, you know. It’s just the opposite. It’s a chance, James. A real one. Wakanda has answers we don’t.”

There was a sharpness in his gaze at the mention of Wakanda, the flicker of uncertainty quickly masked by something harder. He didn’t speak, but you saw it, that tightening at the edges of his expression, the unwillingness to trust something unknown.

But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

“I’ll be there,” you continued, your voice steady despite the maelstrom churning inside you. “Through all of it. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to face this by yourself.”

The space between you felt like a world unto itself, your words the only bridge between his resistance and the possibility of something else—something less solitary. He didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes softened in ways that didn’t require a spoken answer. The tension in his posture—so rigid just moments before—had eased, imperceptibly. It was a shift, small but real, like the first signs of a storm breaking after days of pressure.

He exhaled, the sound rough but quieter, as if the weight of the past few moments had cracked something open inside of him. It was subtle, almost too small to notice, but it was there—a shift in his breath, a loosening in the tightness of his body.

You didn’t let yourself breathe yet. It wasn’t a victory; it was progress. One step at a time.

“I’m not going to let you down,” you murmured, the words more to yourself than to him. But the truth of it hung between you, more meaningful than any promise. The smallest bit of trust had passed from him to you. And that was enough—for now.

For the first time since you had entered the room, Bucky’s posture eased, his shoulders relaxing slightly as if the burden he carried had lessened, if only for a moment. He didn’t speak again, but the silent understanding in his eyes was enough. The anger, the fear, and the uncertainty were all still there, but something in his gaze told you that he was willing to try. He was willing to trust you.

The tension in the room slowly dissipated as Fury and Hill exchanged a glance, their eyes sharp, filled with a quiet understanding. The moment hung there, charged with anticipation before Fury’s voice cut through the silence.

“You leave in 24 hours,” he said, his tone final, unyielding.

You barely had time to process his words before you noticed the subtle shift in Bucky’s demeanor. The moment the restraints were removed, his shoulders sagged slightly, as though the weight had been lightened, even if just a little. He rubbed his wrists, the red marks from the cuffs fading as he did, but his eyes never left you. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, the silent communication louder than any words could be.

"Together," you insisted softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. You gave him a small smile, one that you hoped could carry the weight of everything that lay ahead.

Bucky’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he took in your words. For a brief moment, the mask he wore cracked just enough for you to see the vulnerability beneath it. He had carried so much alone for so long, always fighting battles on his own, and the idea that someone would stand by him, through everything, was still something he wasn’t sure he deserved.

But when he finally met your eyes fully, there was something new there—trust. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. And in that moment, you allowed yourself to believe that things might get better.

He nodded, slowly, almost imperceptibly, and for the first time that day, the weight on his shoulders seemed just a little lighter. The uncertainty, the fear, and the anger hadn’t gone away, but now there was hope—a flicker of it. And that was enough for you to keep moving forward, side by side, as you had always promised.

The tension in the room eased further as Fury and Hill exchanged a look, silent but understanding. The air was heavy with what was coming, but it was also filled with the possibility of healing. The first step, at least, was taken.

Bucky’s hand rested on his knee, his eyes still on you, as if testing the reality of your words. The quiet acceptance between them spoke volumes, louder than any battle cries or violent confrontations ever could. You dutifully chose to stay with him, basking in a silence speaking more than any words ever could.

Maybe, he thought, just maybe, he could have a chance to not be defined by the relics of his past and discover more about him than his broken identity.

⠀

The jet’s hum is steady, a soft vibration thrumming beneath your feet, filling the air with a quiet constancy. Outside, the world stretches out endlessly, a canvas painted with shifting colors. Golden plains give way to emerald forests, their hues blurred by the heat shimmering in waves. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the cabin, where the faint glow of the dashboard monitors adds a cool blue contrast.

Inside, the tension is palpable. You sit diagonally across from Bucky, your fingers laced together as you try to focus on anything other than the heavy silence between you. The cabin’s sleek interior, all polished metal and leather, feels sterile, almost suffocating.

Bucky sits rigid, his posture tense and unyielding. His titanium arm rests on his thigh, the faint gleam of its surface catching the golden light from the window. His other hand grips the armrest tightly, his knuckles pale, the muscles in his forearm taut. He stares out the window, but his expression is far away, his eyes unfocused as if caught in a memory—or maybe a nightmare.

The heat waves outside ripple and dance, distorting the view, and for a fleeting moment, you think it mirrors what he must be feeling: a distorted reality, everything just out of reach, as though he’s swimming through a haze he can’t escape.

You finally break the silence. “Bucky,” you say softly, your voice gentle but firm.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. His jaw tightens slightly, the only sign he’s heard you.

“James,” you try again, leaning forward in your seat.

This time, his head turns, the movement slow, reluctant, as though every fiber of his being fights against acknowledging you. When his eyes meet yours, you feel your breath catch. They are turbulent, stormy—blue-gray like an ocean during a tempest, filled with anger, fear, and something even deeper: a bone-deep exhaustion that words can’t touch. For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his throat working as he swallows hard.

“What?” His voice is low and raw, like the sound of gravel scraping against stone.

"What’s in your head right now?" you ask quietly, the words almost a suggestion, as if you’re just offering him space to release what’s been bottled up. "You don’t have to explain it all at once."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head before his gaze slips back to the window. “That’s a loaded question,” he mutters. “What’s there to say? Same fight, different day. It’s all the same. I’m stuck. Like I’m running in place, but the ground’s always moving.” His voice drops, a hollow edge creeping into his words. “And now, I’m supposed to just… trust this is going to fix me?”

You take a breath, considering him for a moment. “I don’t think it’s about fixing you. It’s more about... giving you a place to stand. To breathe. Something you haven’t had in a while.”

He lets out a sharp exhale, his fingers twitching, flexing around the armrest. “Feels the same.”

You shift slightly in your seat, your gaze calm but not dismissive. “You’ve been carrying that weight for so long,” you say. “And you’re not wrong to feel it. But that’s not all you are. This? It’s a step. Not a cure, not magic. But a step. A chance for something different.”

Bucky’s lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening as he looks at you, still skeptical. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we keep moving forward,” you reply. “We don’t stop. We figure out what comes next.”

The silence between you deepens, but this time, it feels different. Like the weight of the words you haven’t yet said is finally beginning to shift. Bucky doesn’t speak, but his posture relaxes, just a little, as if he’s testing the space you’ve offered him.

“You make it sound simple,” he mutters.

“It’s not,” you admit with a quiet sincerity. “But simplicity isn’t the point. What matters is that you don’t have to carry it all on your own anymore.”

The hum of the engines fills the silence between you, a steady backdrop to your conversation. You lean back in your seat, your gaze drifting to the window. The landscape below has shifted again, the golden plains now giving way to a dense, emerald forest that stretches as far as the eye can see. You take a sip of your drink—a strawberry smoothie you’d grabbed on the way to the jet—and the sweet scent lingers in the air, subtle but unmistakable. It wafts across the cabin, reaching Bucky, whose sharp senses catch it almost immediately.

Strawberries.

It’s such a small, seemingly insignificant thing, but it hits him like a soft gust of wind, pulling him out of the maelstrom in his mind. He always associates the scent with you, a faint trace of strawberries that’s noticeable when you sit close, during those late-night talks, your presence warm and grounding. It’s not overwhelming, just... you. Sweet, fresh, and comforting.

He shifts uncomfortably, the faint scent tugging at something buried deep in his mind. For a moment, the warmth of the jet dissolves, replaced by the golden haze of a late summer afternoon in Brooklyn. He can almost hear the clatter of a bell above the door of a tiny corner bakery, the kind of place you only know about if you live in the neighborhood.

It was Steve who had dragged him there the first time, eager for a treat after a particularly grueling boxing session. The memory unfurls in fragments: the way the sunlight slanted through the windows, how the air inside was heavy with sugar and yeast, the cheerful laugh of the owner as she handed over two strawberry tarts fresh from the oven.

"Best you’ll ever have," Steve had said, his mouth full of pastry, his grin unapologetic. He’d laughed, his fingers sticky with jam as he agreed. They’d sat on the stoop outside, trading bites and talking about nothing important.

The scent in the jet now is the same—ripe, sweet, and just a little tart. It pulls at the edges of his mind, softening the sharp lines of his worry.

His grip on the armrest loosens slightly as he turns his head, his gaze finding you. You’re looking at him now, your brows drawn together with concern, your lips parting as if you’re about to say something.

“Bucky?” your voice breaks through the haze. You turn to him, concern flickering in your eyes. “You okay?”

He blinks, the memory dissolving like sugar in tea. “Yeah,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat. “Just… your drink.”

Your brows furrow, and then your lips curl into a small smile. “What, this?” You hold up the cup, the pink liquid inside sloshing slightly. “Strawberry lemonade. It’s my favorite.”

He nods, his gaze lingering on the cup before meeting yours. “It smells nice. Reminds me of something.”

Your curiosity piqued, you lean in slightly, your voice softer now. “Something good, I hope.”

For a moment, he hesitates. The words are heavy on his tongue, tied to a life that feels like it belongs to someone else. But there’s something about your presence—steady, warm, and unrelenting—that makes him feel safe enough to share.

“There was this bakery,” he begins, his voice low, almost as if he’s afraid to disturb the memory. “Back in Brooklyn. They used to make these strawberry tarts. The kind you could smell from down the block.” His lips twitch into the ghost of a smile. “Steve and I used to go there after boxing. It was stupid, really, but… it was nice.”

You don’t say anything right away, letting the moment settle between you. When you finally speak, your voice is gentle. “It’s not stupid. It’s a good memory. One worth holding onto.”

He glances at you, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

For the first time since you boarded the jet, his shoulders relax. The tension that had gripped him like a vice began to ease, the scent of strawberries still lingering in the air like a quiet promise.

“Want a sip?” you offer, holding out the cup with a playful tilt of your head.

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. I think I’ll just enjoy the smell.”

The banter is light, but the moment carries weight, grounding you both in something fleeting yet profound.

"You know," you said, your tone lighter, "I've been reading about Wakanda. Apparently, their sunsets are supposed to be the most beautiful in the world. Vibranium makes the sky light up in colors you've never seen."

Bucky glanced at you, a faint crease forming between his brows. "You've really done your homework, haven't you?"

You smiled softly. "Someone had to. Besides, I wanted to make sure you were walking into something good. You deserve that."

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"I do," you said, your voice steady. "You've been through hell, Bucky. But you've fought your way back every single time. That's not something everyone can do."

He turned his attention back to the window, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Maybe," he said, his voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it.

You lapsed into silence again, but this time, it felt lighter, less suffocating. You watched him out of the corner of your eye, the way his fingers relaxed slightly, the way his breathing steadied.

As the jet began its descent, the cabin was bathed in a golden glow. Outside, the horizon was ablaze with color—deep reds and oranges melting into purples and blues, the landscape below shimmering like a dream.

"We're almost there," you announced softly, your gaze returning to the window.

"Yeah," he rasped, his voice steadier now. "Almost."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the view, a flicker of awe breaking through the walls he'd built around himself. "It's beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself.

Outside, the horizon blazed with color as the jet continued its journey. But inside, the small bubble of quiet understanding between you felt like its own kind of sunrise—a soft light breaking through the shadows, hinting at the possibility of brighter days ahead.

⠀

The jet's engines finally cut off as it touched down gently on the smooth landing pad. Outside, the deepening twilight bathed the landscape of Wakanda in a golden glow, and the air felt almost electric with anticipation. Bucky’s boots thudded softly on the jet’s floor as he stood, his posture rigid but his steps measured. He paused for a moment, taking in the moment—this was the first time in years that he'd stood on solid ground and not felt the familiar weight of his past suffocating him. But it was different now. Wakanda. The future. Maybe this place could offer him what he'd been searching for.

You were right behind him, your heart beating just as fast. You'd done your research and read every report you could get your hands on about Wakanda, but nothing had prepared you for the feeling of stepping onto the soil of this secretive, powerful nation. Your eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the sleek, futuristic city that rose from the heart of lush green hills, framed by shimmering mountains. Vibranium gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the colors of the setting sun in every direction.

As the jet’s door slid open, a cool breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the earthy scent of fresh rain and something distinctly metallic—Wakanda’s essence. It was strange, like nothing else you’d ever smelled before. It felt otherworldly, yet natural, as if the land itself was alive with energy.

Bucky stepped out first, squinting against the sudden change in light. He kept his head slightly lowered, his broad shoulders tense, but something in the way he held himself was different. As if the city—the country—held a promise, a shift he hadn’t yet fully processed but felt in his bones.

You followed, your hand brushing against the doorframe as you stepped onto the pad, your eyes now fully taking in the grandeur of the scene around you. It was surreal to be standing in a place so rich with history, so far removed from anything you'd known. You noticed Bucky was already looking around, and for the first time, the air around him felt lighter.

Before you could take more than a few steps, a procession of figures appeared before you—imposing yet welcoming. A group of highly trained Wakandan guards in their traditional attire stood tall, their presence unwavering, yet their expressions unreadable. But it was the figure at the front of the group who caught your attention.

Shuri.

She stood with an air of confidence that was immediately apparent. The sharpness in her posture and the grace with which she moved spoke volumes about her authority and presence. She wore a sleek black and gold ensemble, her hair pulled back in a series of intricate braids. There was no immediate warmth in her eyes, but there was an undeniable sharpness—a curiosity in her gaze as she looked over the newcomers.

“Pleasure to meet you, soldier,” Shuri greeted, her voice clear and full of authority, but softened by an unmistakable warmth.

Bucky gave a stiff nod in return, his jaw set, but there was a slight softening around his eyes as he regarded her. He didn’t speak right away, but his gaze shifted slightly toward the cityscape behind her, almost as if taking it all in.

Then, Shuri’s attention turned to you, and she gave a small, polite smile. “And you must be Agent [Y/L/N],” she said, her eyes scanning you with a hint of curiosity. “I trust the journey was pleasant?”

You blinked in surprise—didn’t expect such a direct greeting. You offered a smile back, albeit a bit more reserved. “Yes, it was. Thank you for the warm welcome, Your Highness.”

Shuri’s lips curled slightly. “Oh, don’t bother with stupid titles—call me Shuri. It’s not every day we have guests arrive, especially those with such… unique backgrounds.” Her words were punctuated by a sharp but knowing look at Bucky, as if she were aware of the weight he carried. “But I assure you, here, you will find more than just refuge. You’ll find purpose.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, but you could feel the tension in his body, the flicker of recognition—of understanding—that passed between the two. It was subtle, but it was there.

“Come, we’ll get you settled in,” Shuri continued, motioning toward the waiting transport. She stepped aside as the guards parted, and the sleek vehicle hummed to life. “We’ve prepared a place for both of you to rest, but I think you’ll find Wakanda has much more to offer beyond that.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, then gave a slight nod, stepping toward the transport. You followed, your steps light but steady. The air felt charged with the promise of what was to come—both the uncertainties and the possibilities.

The faint whir of energy around you seemed to grow as you arrived at your destination, and you found yourself mesmerized by the city in the distance. Wakanda was everything you had imagined, and yet, nothing like you had imagined. The towering structures were like nothing seen elsewhere in the world, made of materials that shimmered in the fading light, as if they were woven with the very fabric of the earth itself.

Shuri’s lips curled into a small but knowing smile. “Wakanda is a land of contradictions,” she said, stepping forward and sweeping her hand toward the city beyond. “We blend the ancient with the advanced. What you see here, what you feel, is a reflection of us: strong, proud, and unyielding.” She glanced at Bucky, her tone softening just slightly. “And you, soldier, you’ll find something here that you may not have known you were looking for.”

Bucky stiffened slightly at the mention of “something,” but you could feel the weight of the moment. You knew Bucky’s past, and the burden he carried, and you could only imagine what he was thinking as Shuri spoke.

Trying to ease the tension, you stepped closer to Bucky, your voice gentle as you spoke to him. “Hey, it’ll be alright. Just take a moment,” you told him, offering him a quiet smile. You could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his muscles were coiled, like he was preparing himself for something.

Bucky glanced at you, his face betraying the slight hesitation in his gaze, but then he nodded almost imperceptibly, the tension in his shoulders slightly easing.

Shuri noticed the exchange, and after a beat, her expression softened as she turned back to you. “Oh, but you must be tired from your trip,” she said, her tone taking on a more inviting warmth. “Wakanda’s energy can be overwhelming, especially for first-timers. Allow me to guide you to your rooms. You’ll want to rest before we get to the more… exciting parts of your stay.”

You nodded gratefully, turning to Bucky. “Let’s get settled, alright? We’ll have some time to relax and get comfortable.”

He gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. He seemed to appreciate your presence more than he let on, though his eyes still lingered on the sprawling city as you followed Shuri.

Shuri led you down a wide path, the guards falling into step behind you, their presence a quiet but ever-present reminder of the security that Wakanda maintained. As you walked, you couldn’t help but be in awe of the blend of nature and technology that surrounded you. The city had an organic feel to it, with towering trees growing beside shimmering, metallic buildings. The contrast was striking, yet harmonious.

“You’ll be staying in one of our guest suites,” Shuri continued, her voice light, almost playful. “It’s not quite as grand as the royal chambers, but it’s comfortable enough. A place to rest your head, away from everything else.”

Bucky remained quiet, but you could see the slight tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. You kept your attention on him, making sure he felt at ease in this unfamiliar place.

“Wakanda is a place of healing,” Shuri added, glancing over her shoulder at you both. “And for you, soldier,” she said with an almost surprising directness, “this land has much to offer. But remember, healing doesn’t happen overnight. You have to allow it to.”

Bucky’s expression was unreadable, but he didn’t reply, his gaze focused forward as you approached a building that seemed to glow with an ethereal light.

“This is it,” Shuri said, gesturing toward the entrance. “Your rooms are inside. Rest for now, and when you’re ready, we’ll meet to discuss what comes next.”

As you stepped inside, you took a deep breath, watching Bucky carefully as he entered his assigned room. You could tell he was still processing everything—the enormity of being here, the unfamiliarity of the city, and perhaps the weight of his doubts. But for now, all you could do was offer a quiet, reassuring presence.

“Thank you, Shuri,” you said, offering the princess a smile. “We’ll take it from here.”

Shuri nodded, her expression softening just a touch before she turned to leave. “Of course. Take your time. Wakanda will be waiting when you're ready.”

The door closed behind you, and for the first time since you’d arrived, there was a moment of quiet. The sensation of apprehension in the air seemed to dissipate, if only slightly, as the reality of your arrival in Wakanda settled in.

⠀

You took a deep breath, letting the silence wrap around you for a moment before moving toward your suitcase. As you crouched down, unzipping it, you couldn’t help but smile a little. There was something comforting about the mundane task of unpacking, a small semblance of control amidst the uncertainty of your new surroundings.

You pulled out the first few items—clothes, toiletries—and started to sort them, placing them neatly in the drawers. You were methodical about it, folding everything just so, organizing even the smallest details. It helped you focus and keep your mind occupied, away from the unknowns of this strange new place.

Later that night, the door creaked open again while you were still folding clothes in your given wardrobe, and you looked up to find Bucky standing in the doorway. He looked like he was still adjusting to the quiet, his face creased with that familiar tension.

“Can’t sleep,” he muttered, his voice low, almost sheepish. He stood there for a moment, as if unsure what to do with himself.

You gave him a sympathetic glance and nodded toward the small couch across from your bed. "Well, I’m just unpacking. You’re welcome to hang out for a bit."

He nodded and walked over, sitting on the edge of the couch, his posture stiff. "I thought you were supposed to be making this place feel more like home," he said with a small grin, watching as you folded a shirt.

"Yeah, well, one suitcase at a time," you teased, folding a pair of pants. "Besides, we’re in Wakanda. You’re gonna have to give me more time to adjust. It’s not exactly like putting up posters of our faces and calling it 'home.'"

Bucky chuckled, leaning back on the couch with a sigh. "I don’t think they’d let me hang up any of those old SHIELD ones... You know, the ones Sam still sends me with our faces on them. Like we're supposed to be some kind of... well, I don't know, 'heroes' or something."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Sam’s probably got a whole wall of them. I mean, that guy never misses an opportunity to remind us how pretty we are, huh?"

Bucky smirked, his eyes softening. "You’ve got to admit, he’s got a point."

You rolled your eyes, playfully throwing a sock at him. "Sam’s got an ego the size of the Milano. Just wait till we get back. He’ll be acting like he’s the one who saved the world every five minutes."

Bucky leaned forward, nudging your leg with his foot. "And he’ll probably do it with that ridiculous grin of his." He paused, a grin spreading across his face as he mimicked Sam’s signature cocky smile. "You know, the one that looks like he’s just won a race, but also thinks he’s won the race before anyone even started?"

You laughed harder now, imagining it. "God, yes. And don’t forget how he says, ‘This is the Falcon, signing off.’ I’m not even sure he knows how to take anything seriously."

Bucky’s expression softened at the mention of Sam. "Yeah, well, as much as he annoys me, it’s hard to imagine being stuck with anyone else. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but... he’s been a good friend. Even if he never lets up on the jokes."

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "He has a weird way of making you feel like everything’s gonna be okay, even when it’s not. I think that’s why I like him... even when I wanna smack him with a pillow for talking too much."

Bucky snorted, his posture relaxing. "I think we both know Sam would take that as a compliment. He'd probably think it's an honor."

You finished folding the last of your clothes, turning to face him. "So, how are you holding up? You’re quieter than usual."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes flicking over to the window. "It’s just... strange, you know? This place is different. And I’m still getting used to everything."

You stepped closer, offering him a soft, understanding smile. "Yeah. It’s not exactly the city we’re used to,” you said, returning to your unpacking. “Wakanda's got a lot of energy to it, doesn’t it? It’s a lot to take in.”

He took his time to take in the room, glancing around, his gaze lingering on the walls and furniture as if trying to get used to the space. “It’s... quieter than I’m used to,” he admitted, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I thought I’d be able to sleep, but I guess my brain didn’t get the memo.”

You paused in your unpacking, glancing over at him with a wry smile. “I’m not sure ‘sleep’ is something you can just force, you know. I mean, look at me—I’m still unpacking.” You gestured to your neatly arranged drawers. “I’m practically unpacking my life here, one pair of jeans at a time.”

Bucky’s lips twitched at the corner, though his expression remained guarded. “So that’s the secret, huh? The key to surviving Wakanda? Unpack your emotions through your clothes?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “No, just the stuff. My emotions are a whole different thing.”

He leaned against the headrest of the couch, his arms crossing loosely. “I’m not sure I have the patience for all this organization.”

“Maybe not, but it helps,” you said, moving to your toiletries and setting them in the bathroom area. “You’d be surprised how something so simple can give you a little peace of mind. If only for a few minutes.”

Bucky grunted softly, looking out the window, as if the city beyond could provide the answers he was looking for. “I don’t know if peace is something I deserve.”

Your eyes softened at his words, but you didn’t look at him directly. You just kept moving your things around, neatly arranging personal care products with deliberate care. “Well, if you want my professional opinion, I think peace is something we all deserve,” you said quietly. “Even if we don’t think we’re ready for it.”

Bucky didn’t respond right away, but you could see his shoulders relax a little, the weight of his thoughts easing for just a second.

After a pause, he broke the silence with a small, rueful smile. “You’ve got a point, dove. You really do.” His voice softened a little. “Guess I just... haven’t figured out how to live in peace yet.”

You stood up, brushing your hands off on your jeans as you moved to your suitcase to grab a few more things. “It’s a work in progress, Buck’,” you said, offering him a grin. “One step at a time. Unpacking your stuff is as good a place to start as any.”

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound this time, though it still held a trace of his usual wariness. “Maybe I’ll try it. I don’t think I’ve ever actually ‘unpacked’ before.”

You gave him a teasing look. “Well, you’re in Wakanda now. Time to learn how to take it slow.” You shrugged lightly, glancing at your suitcase. "Besides, we’ve got each other, so we’ll figure it out."

Bucky gave a small smile in return, though it was tinged with something bittersweet. "Yeah... we’ll figure it out." He paused, and then, with a mock serious tone, added, "I mean, as long as Sam doesn't pop in for a surprise visit in the middle of the night, ready to preach about how we're supposed to 'embrace the change.'"

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach. "Don’t even get me started on his 'life lessons.' The guy should really write a book: How to Be a Pain in the Ass While Pretending to Be a Therapist."

Bucky shook his head, chuckling along with you. "If he ever does, I’m not getting the first copy."

You both laughed for a moment before the room grew quiet again, the kind of comfortable silence that came with shared understanding. Bucky looked at you, his expression softening. "Thanks, dove."

You met his gaze and smiled softly, feeling the warmth between you both grow. "Anytime, Bucky. Anytime."

For a brief moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, the hum of the city outside mingling with the soft sounds of the room. Bucky finally pushed himself off the wall, moving toward the door.

“Alright, I’m gonna try to get some rest. But if I end up staring at the ceiling all night, I might come knock on your door.”

You chuckled softly, nodding toward the bed. “I’ll be here, unpacking my life.”

As he stepped out of the room, he offered one last glance over his shoulder. “Good night,” he said, his voice quieter than before, something unspoken in the simple word.

You smiled, and for the first time since you’d arrived, the weight of the moment didn’t feel quite so heavy. Maybe Bucky would find his peace here, in his own time. Maybe you would too.

⠀

The sound of hovercrafts in the distance mingled with the hum of the city’s energy, filling the air with a futuristic melody. The capital city of Wakanda stretched out before you and Bucky—an intricate dance of nature and technology. Towering trees with glowing, bioluminescent leaves stood alongside sleek, gleaming structures made of materials that shimmered with a blue and purple hue. The holographic images that floated seamlessly in the air combined with the natural landscape in a way that felt entirely harmonious, like both elements had always been meant to coexist.

The door to the ship opened, and before you could even step out, a familiar voice rang out, filled with energy and excitement.

“Welcome to Wakanda!”

You turned, and there stood Shuri, flashing a bright, welcoming smile. She looked every bit as confident as the stories suggested. "I know it’s a lot, but you’ll get used to it. Wakanda isn’t just a city; it’s a way of life. Here, we don’t just build for the future—we build for everyone."

Your breath caught as you stepped out of the transport. The sight before you was nothing short of breathtaking. Massive trees stretched high into the sky, their roots intertwined with sleek, gleaming structures of Vibranium that rose from the earth, seamlessly blending with the natural landscape. It was like stepping into a world where technology and nature lived in perfect harmony.

Bucky, following you out of the transport, looked around with wide eyes, clearly trying to take it all in. His brow furrowed slightly, and he muttered under his breath, "I’ve heard a lot of things. Not sure I buy it."

You smiled, trying to mask your awe. "You’ll get used to it. Everything here, every piece of technology, is designed to coexist with nature."

Shuri nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing on her heels. "Exactly! Everything you see here, from the trees to the tech, is powered by Vibranium. Not just for progress, but for balance. The future isn’t just about advancing; it’s about thriving together."

You glanced at Bucky, who seemed both impressed and confused. "Wakanda is one of the few places in the world where technology isn't just about what it can do—but how it helps everyone," you explained. "It’s all about progress and sustainability in equal measure."

“Sustainability, huh? I've seen a lot of places claim that and end up hollow promises,” he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism. 

She gave him a knowing look and grinned. "Oh, we have a skeptic among us." She walked up to Bucky with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It’s alright, soldier, we’ll get you there. You just have to trust the science."

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. A lot of science. Not really the biggest fan here,” he gave a dry, half-smile, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he gestured to his metal arm to make a point. Bucky squinted at her, his brow furrowing deeper. "And what exactly makes you an expert in all this? You don’t even look old enough to be handing out wisdom."

Shuri raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you think I’m not old enough, huh? Maybe I don’t have the experience you do, but I've got something better—Vibranium." She held up her wrist, where a sleek device hummed softly. "A little tech I designed, just for moments like these. It’s called patience—you could use some, by the way."

You laughed at the back-and-forth. "Careful, Buckaroo. You don’t want to get on Shuri’s bad side. She might turn your arm into a really high-tech paperweight."

Bucky chuckled reluctantly, his shoulders loosening a bit. "I’m starting to think I’m going to need one of those gadgets to survive here."

"Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty," Shuri quipped. "And if you keep acting like this, you might just need a stress monitor for your recovery too."

Bucky shot her a side-eye, but there was the faintest trace of a grin on his face now. "You’re really starting to sound like a tech guru now."

Shuri shrugged dramatically. "What can I say? Genius runs in the family. You should see my brother."

You could feel Bucky's skepticism starting to crack just a little bit, but he still looked like he wasn’t entirely convinced. "I’m still not sure about all this. You’ve got tech everywhere, but does it actually work?"

"Oh, it works alright," Shuri said, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. "Everything here has been designed to help us move forward. From food to healthcare, to your recovery." She gave him a knowing glance. "That’s why you're here, remember?"

Bucky snorted. "Yeah, right. I guess we’ll see if it works."

Shuri grinned even wider. "Oh, I know it works. You’ll feel like a new man by the time we’re done." She glanced at you, then back at Bucky. "Besides, if it doesn’t work, I’ll just have to fix it. Like everything else I do." Her voice was teasing, but there was a glint of genuine pride in it.

You smirked, unable to resist joining in. "I’m almost 100% sure that their motto is 'If it ain’t broke, I’ll make it better.'"

She waved her hand dismissively. "You’re not wrong, but it’s more like, ‘If it is broke, I’ll fix it before anyone notices.’"

Bucky gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head with a small smile. "I can already tell this is going to be... interesting."

She wasn’t done yet, though. "Oh, it gets better. Come on, I’m taking you to see the market. If you think this is impressive, wait until you see the food. You’ll never want to leave."

"Do you sell anything that doesn’t involve turning me into a guinea pig?" he questioned, half-joking.

Shuri paused for a moment, her smile widening. "I’m pretty sure I could sell you anything, but I won’t turn you into a guinea pig... unless you ask nicely."

You groaned in mock frustration, putting your hands over your ears. "Please, no more. If you start talking about guinea pigs, I’ll never hear the end of it."

Bucky, now chuckling, nudged you lightly. "Yeah, she’s not wrong, you know. I have a feeling we’re going to be hearing about guinea pigs for the rest of our lives."

You winked at him. "As long as it keeps you laughing, I’m happy to take the hit."

Shuri led you both through the heart of the city, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way the holograms danced above the streets, integrated into the towering trees and buildings. The city itself was alive with energy—there was music floating through the air, laughter from children darting between stalls, and the soft whirr of drones hovering like curious birds overhead.

As you walked through the open market, the scents of fresh fruit and spices filled the air. Vendors proudly displayed vibrant goods—scarves and jewelry, woven baskets, carved wood, and delicacies that looked too beautiful to eat. Your stomach rumbled as you walked past a stall brimming with bright, ripe strawberries, their sweet scent almost intoxicating.

You grinned, leaning toward Bucky. “Okay, we’re getting some of those,” you said, practically grabbing his arm and tugging him over to the stall. “Trust me, you’re going to love them. Wakandan strawberries are next-level.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were a little unhinged. “Strawberries again? Seriously?”

You gave him your best ‘don’t question it’ look. “I’ve been craving these for days. And I promise, you’ll understand once you try them.” You reached out and handed him a basket filled with the plump, ripe berries.

Bucky hesitated, clearly not convinced. But when he finally took one and popped it in his mouth, you watched his expression shift from skepticism to surprise. “Alright,” he said with a slight grin, "I admit it. These are... ridiculously good."

“Told you,” you said smugly. “Strawberries are basically a cure for whatever’s bothering you. Forget about all that mood-ring nonsense.” You gave him a playful nudge, making him chuckle under his breath.

Shuri laughed from behind you. “Wakandan strawberries have a special place in everyone’s heart here. They’re like a little taste of home for all of us.”

Your group made your way through the market, sampling fruits, laughing at a few street performers, and taking in the vibrant life all around you. As much as Bucky tried to stay on guard, you could see the faintest softening in his posture. He was still unsure about letting himself go, but the relaxed pace of the market and the genuine warmth of the people around him were starting to wear down his defenses.

Finally, Shuri led you to a tech stall, where a series of gadgets were displayed—sleek, high-tech devices designed for physical recovery and mental wellness. Bucky eyed them with a raised eyebrow.

"These are wearable devices that monitor your mood and stress levels," Shuri explained, picking up a small device that looked like a high-tech bracelet. “They use Vibranium’s unique properties to help balance your energy and emotions. We’ve used them to help soldiers and citizens alike manage their mental well-being.”

Bucky stared at it, still skeptical. “What is this, a wearable therapist?”

You laughed at the remark. “More like a personal mood assistant,” you said, lifting an eyebrow. “It helps track your recovery. Think of it as a tool for healing—not just your body, but your mind too. You’ve been through a lot, Bucky. This could help.”

He glanced at the device, then back at you. “I don’t know if I need anything that tracks my stress.”

"You’ve got a lot of it, buddy,” you teased. “Look, just try it. It’ll be worth it. It’s not like they’re going to put a tracking chip in your head... yet.”

Shuri jumped in, her eyes lighting up. “You’ll love it! This thing is perfect for stress management. And we all know someone here could use a little stress relief.”

“Ha-ha,” Bucky muttered dryly, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, I’ll bite. But only because you two are relentless.”

The tour continued as Shuri led you both toward the final stop: a sleek, Vibranium-powered chamber nestled within the heart of the city. The walls hummed with energy, a soft, almost soothing vibration that seemed to pulse in tune with your heartbeat.

“This,” Shuri said, “is where you’ll undergo the treatment for your Hydra triggers. The Vibranium will stimulate your mind, breaking the neural connections tied to Hydra’s programming.”

Bucky glanced at the chamber, a slight wariness returning to his face. “And this is going to help?”

You stepped closer, your voice calm but firm. “Yes, Bucky. It’s cutting-edge, and it’s the best treatment available. You’re going to be okay.”

Bucky looked at you, the walls of his emotions crumbling just a little. He gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

⠀

Wakanda’s advanced technology was beyond anything Bucky had ever experienced. Even as he stepped into the sterile, high-tech facility, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. The room was cold and sterile, yet somehow comforting in its advanced design. The walls hummed with quiet energy, their sleek metallic surfaces reflecting the soft blue glow of the Vibranium-powered technology that filled the room. It was all so very Wakandan—a perfect blend of high-tech gadgets and sleek design, wrapped in the ancient energy of the country’s prized metal.

Bucky sat in the chair at the center of the room, looking far too tense for comfort. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the odd machinery around him, a combination of devices connected by smooth, glowing wires. Shuri was at the controls, her fingers dancing across the holographic panels, eyes sparkling with excitement as she prepared for the procedure.

"Alright, white boy," Shuri said, her voice smooth and filled with anticipation, though there was an underlying seriousness to it. "This will take a few rounds to clear the Hydra programming from your mind. Don’t worry. We’ve been working on this for a while, and you’re in good hands. It’s a lot like rebooting an old computer."

Bucky glanced over at you, his face still shadowed with doubt. "Should I feel offended that you just compared me to ancient tech? You know what, don’t answer that. You’re sure this will work, right?" Bucky asked, a slight tremor in his voice. His skepticism was clear—years of Hydra’s control had made him wary of trusting anyone, even in this sanctuary of high-tech Wakanda.

You gave him a reassuring smile. "I wouldn’t let them do this if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, Shuri is the best. She knows her stuff."

Shuri flashed him a confident grin. "Of course I do. This will work, Barnes. But we may need to run a few tests, and it might take some time to fully clear out all the lingering effects of Hydra."

Bucky’s shoulders tensed at the mention of “lingering effects,” but he nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Let’s get it over with."

The machines hummed to life, and the lights dimmed as Bucky’s chair tilted back slightly. Thin, silver-like tendrils of light wrapped around his temples, their ends pressing gently against his skin. The energy was soft at first—barely noticeable—but soon the feeling intensified. Bucky's jaw clenched as he fought the discomfort, his hands gripping the chair's armrests.

Shuri’s hands moved deftly over the controls, and the room seemed to come alive with a soft, electric hum. Light from the machines shifted from a cool blue to a deeper shade of violet, and several devices surrounding Bucky powered on. Thin, silver threads of light extended from the machines, wrapping gently around his temples and wrists.

"This first round is designed to target the specific Hydra triggers in your mind," Shuri explained. "We’ll disarm them piece by piece. It’s a delicate process, but nothing we can’t handle. This won’t hurt," she reassured him, though there was a glimmer of mischievousness in her eyes. "Well, not much."

Almost immediately, the first wave hit. Bucky's eyes widened as a sharp, invasive sensation shot through his skull, sending a jolt of panic down his spine. His body went rigid, and for a moment, you saw the old soldier in him—the one who had fought through Hydra’s control and survived against all odds.

His breathing hitched as his mind began to flash with images: snow-covered landscapes, dark rooms, the heavy, cold sound of a gunshot, whispers in languages he couldn’t understand, but that sent terror through his chest. The Hydra programming wasn’t just a set of memories—it was a feeling, a trigger buried so deep in his psyche that even now, he could feel it clawing its way to the surface.

"James," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the noise. "James, focus. You’re not there anymore. You’re with us. You’re safe."

He flinched, a strangled noise escaping him as he struggled to regain control. His fingers dug deeper into the armrests, nails biting into the metal.

"Stay with me," you said again, this time with more urgency. "Take a breath. You’re safe. This isn’t real. You’ve come so far already."

Bucky’s eyes flicked to yours, a momentary flash of panic in them before he took a deep breath. His body trembled for a second, but he forced himself to center on your voice. Slowly, the images of Hydra started to fade, but they didn't disappear completely. The fear and anxiety remained just beneath the surface, faint but persistent.

Slowly, very slowly, the panic started to fade. His breath steadied, and the bright blue light around him flickered and pulsed, syncing with his heartbeat. After what felt like a century, the light dimmed, and the invasive presence in his mind faded, leaving only a dull ache where the triggers once were.

"How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice gentle but still steady.

Bucky blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from his head. He seemed disoriented, his expression a mix of confusion and relief. "Like... like someone just tried to tear my brain out of my skull," he muttered, his voice rough.

Shuri gave him a sympathetic glance as she adjusted the settings. "Don’t worry. We’ll make this a little easier each time. You’re doing great."

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes a little too wide, but he nodded. "Great? That felt like... like I was back in their hands for a second."

"I know," you said softly. "But that’s why we’re here. We’re making sure it stays in the past."

Shuri watched the readings carefully, her brow furrowing. "The main triggers are gone, but there’s still some residual tension in his mind. I’ll need to adjust the frequencies to target that."

You nodded. "Take your time, Shuri. He’s doing great."

As the second wave of scans began, the light around Bucky intensified. His eyes locked onto the ceiling, his hands gripping the armrest so hard that his knuckles turned white. The machine flashed bright, blue light, and his body tensed, back arching as the memory overwhelmed him. The trigger was strong this time—one of Hydra’s words in his ear, sharp and laced with command.

"It’s happening again," Bucky muttered, his voice strained. "I can’t stop it."

The faintest tremor of panic started to creep into his voice as the memories surfaced again—less distinct now, but still there, like shadows lurking in the back of his mind.

You leaned in, lightly placing a hand on his. "James, listen to me." You spoke softly but with conviction. "You are not the Winter Soldier. You’ve beaten Hydra before. You’re stronger now. They can’t control you anymore."

He blinked hard, still trembling, his eyes flickering in confusion and terror. "It’s... it’s still in me," he muttered, barely audible.

You met his gaze, locking eyes with him, forcing him to look at you. "It’s not in you anymore, Bucky. You’re free. This is just the residue. You’ve been through the worst of it, and now you’re healing. It’s not going to take hold again."

For a moment, it seemed like the weight of your words cut through the fog of fear clouding his mind. Bucky’s breathing steadied slightly as his fingers relaxed on the armrests. The sensation of fear and control began to subside, replaced by the quiet buzz of the tech doing its work. His eyes searched yours, and after a long pause, he gave a small nod, forcing himself to relax. Slowly, the machine’s light dimmed again, the invasive presence receding.

Shuri nodded from the control panel, her voice filled with approval. "We’re almost there, Barnes. A few more adjustments, and you’ll be free of this for good."

The next rounds went by much like the first, with Bucky getting progressively more used to the sensation. Each time, the light would flare up as the machine scanned for the dormant Hydra programming. The invasive memories still crept in, but they became more distant and easier to ignore as the process went on. Shuri worked her tech with precision, using pulses of energy that helped rewire Bucky’s synapses, recalibrating the damaged pathways left by Hydra. But it was clear—it wasn’t a simple fix. Even with the tech clearing his mind, it was going to take time for Bucky to fully adapt. The mental scars didn’t vanish overnight.

In between rounds, the poor soldier would let out short, sharp breaths, his gaze never staying still, his body tensing at the smallest sensation. But each time, he managed to push through, knowing you were right there, watching him, guiding him.

At last, the princess finally signaled that they were finished. The machines powered down, and Bucky’s chair slowly returned to its original position. He let out a deep breath, the tension in his muscles slowly melting away. The heavy weight that had been pressing on him seemed lighter, and though there were still shadows in his mind, they no longer felt like they could control him.

As the machine powered down for the last time, Bucky sat there, his expression weary, but the light in his eyes softer, less clouded.

"That’s it," Shuri said with a smile. "The triggers are gone. For now, anyway."

You stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did great. You’re in control again."

Bucky looked at you, his face tense but grateful. "Feels weird," he admitted, rubbing his temples. "It’s like I’m seeing everything for the first time again. It’s not all gone, though. It’s like the memories are still there, like... a weight."

You nodded, understanding. "It will take time, Bucky. You’re not expected to be perfect right now. We’ll help you through it."

"Alright, white boy," she said, her tone light but with an edge of focus. "Before we get to the fun stuff, we’re going to test your physical limits. Time to give you a break—how about a friendly sparring match?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. "You’re testing me now? After all those mind games?"

"Oh, don’t worry, you’ll survive," Shuri said, her eyes dancing with mischief. "But first, I need to see how well your body’s holding up. You know, just to make sure the mental recovery is syncing with your physical condition."

He glanced at you for a second, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "I shouldn’t worry, right?"

You chuckled, already knowing what was coming. "Don’t let her intimidate you, old man. Just go with it."

Shuri took a step forward, motioning for Bucky to follow her as she walked toward the large training arena, a vast space made for simulations and sparring. "Now, before we get into the arm inspection," she said, flipping a holographic switch to bring up a grid-like fighting field, "I want to see what you can really do. How well is your body handling your recovery?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You mean you want me to fight you?"

Shuri nodded, already cracking her knuckles. "Exactly. I’m not going easy on you, so be prepared."

You gave Bucky an encouraging grin. "Don’t worry, it’s not all about brute strength. You’ll do fine, just listen to her."

Shuri’s eyes glinted as she stepped back, preparing herself for the spar. "Come on, Soldier. Show me what you’ve got."

Bucky shifted into a defensive stance, his metal arm twitching slightly, like it was itching to do some real damage. But as soon as the simulation’s holographic lights flashed, you saw the hesitation in his movements. His years of conditioning were still there, as though he was ready to go full force at any moment, but something held him back.

You couldn't help but feel a little proud at how far he’d come, but now was the time for him to let go of his past baggage.

"Come on, Barnes," you called out from the sidelines, your voice light but encouraging. "You’re not going to be in control of yourself if you don’t just let go."

Shuri smirked at you, then turned her attention back to Bucky. "She’s right. Relax. I’m not here to test your limits to break you, just to push you. Let’s see how much you can really control."

Bucky hesitated for a second longer before lunging forward. His metal arm swung with force, but Shuri was quick, ducking under the blow and countering with a well-placed jab to his stomach. The force wasn’t enough to knock him back, but it was enough to push him off balance.

"Not bad," Shuri commented, grinning. "But you’re holding back. I know it’s there."

Bucky growled slightly, clearly frustrated, but tried to adjust. He aimed another strike at her, this time with his human arm. But Shuri was too fast again, dodging and weaving around him, her foot sweeping out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor.

You chuckled from the sidelines, unable to resist. "You’re gonna have to do better than that, old man."

Bucky groaned as he pushed himself up, a grin starting to spread across his face. "I don’t need you getting on my case too, dove."

You shrugged with a smirk, crossing your arms. "Hey, I’m just telling you how it is. You can’t fight like you’re trying to hold back all your life. Trust me, I know. You’ve got it in you."

Shuri watched, impressed by the banter. "You know, this is better than I thought it would be. You’re starting to loosen up a little. Now let’s see if you can catch me."

And with that, she was on him again, her movements like lightning as she pressed her attack. Bucky was more aware now, his body reacting faster, his movements flowing with more freedom. You could see the change, the way his rigidness slowly started to fade as he gave in to the fight. The tension in his body started to dissipate, and he was no longer fighting with the same heavy burden on his mind.

"There you go," you called out. "That’s what I’m talking about!"

Shuri was grinning now as she took a step back. "This is getting good. You’re not as slow as I thought, white boy."

Bucky was grinning too, though there was a glint of determination in his eyes. "I told you I could keep up."

You could see the way he was moving now—faster, more fluid. Each strike felt like it was coming from a man who was no longer under the weight of Hydra’s control. It was like he was finding his rhythm again, and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how far he’d come.

Shuri raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "I think you’ve earned a break. But not before we get to the real reason you’re here."

She flicked her wrist, and the holographic field shifted. A soft hum filled the air as she made her way to Bucky. "We’ll test your arm now. But remember, I’m not just checking for damage. I’m also making sure there’s no... lingering side effects."

Bucky held out his arm, now fully aware of the attention it would receive. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead."

Shuri ran her fingers over the metal, pressing certain points and watching closely as Bucky shifted slightly under her touch. She tapped a few buttons on her wristband, bringing up a scan of his arm on the nearby holographic screen.

"Everything looks good so far," she said after a moment, but then her expression turned serious. "But there’s some wear near the joints. I’m going to run a diagnostic test on the connections later—nothing to worry about for now, but we need to make sure it’s in top shape before you get back to real combat."

Bucky nodded. "I don’t need a babysitter for my arm, little girl."

"I’m not babysitting, I’m just making sure it’s running like a well-oiled machine." Shuri gave him a smirk before turning back to you. "I’d say he’s ready for more. What do you think, Sparky?"

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, watching Bucky as he stretched, clearly still ready to go. "I think he’s ready for whatever’s next."

⠀

The diagnostic on Bucky’s arm didn't to take long, and Shuri quickly completed it. "Alright, Barnes. Now that your arm’s not going to fall off just yet," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she looked him up and down, "Let’s see if your strength is actually matching up with all the talk."

Bucky rolled his eyes but grinned. "You know, I don’t want to offend my host. I might just let you win again."

Shuri shot him a look, her eyes narrowing as her stance shifted. "Please. I’m the one who invented half of this stuff, white boy. You’re not gonna get off that easy."

"Not for lack of trying," Bucky muttered, readying himself. He squared up and dropped into a more familiar stance, feeling the weight of the training and all the work he’d been putting into his recovery. Even though his body felt stronger, his mind was still in the process of catching up. The battle against the Hydra programming wasn’t a one-and-done situation—it was going to take time.

Shuri went first, her movements a blur as she darted toward him, landing a quick strike to his ribs before he could even react. Bucky stumbled, but quickly regained his balance. The momentary trigger of a past fight or memory didn’t set him off, but it did make him hesitate for just a fraction of a second.

"Come on, Soldier!" Shuri called out, her grin widening. "I thought you said you were keeping up!"

You stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching intently. "Remember to relax, she’s not gonna break." You offered him a teasing smile. "Just let loose a little. She’s just showing off."

Shuri danced around him with ease, dodging his attempts to grab hold of her. She was fast—faster than he expected—and her moves were filled with an effortless grace. It was clear she was toying with him, but Bucky wasn’t backing down. He adjusted his focus, blocking and dodging her blows with more precision, his footwork becoming more fluid as he reacted in real time.

For the first time since he’d entered the arena, Bucky felt something inside him click. He stopped thinking about every move. Instead, he allowed his instincts to take over, trusting his strength and speed rather than his muscle memory. The hesitation was gone, and he was moving like he used to, without the mental chains holding him back. He had Shuri in his sights and wasn’t going to let up.

Shuri’s expression shifted from teasing to impressed as Bucky finally landed a blow—a clean jab to her shoulder that sent her staggering back a few steps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," Shuri said, her tone more approving now. "Seems like you still have it."

Bucky smirked, his chest rising with satisfaction. "Told you I could keep up."

The two went back and forth, a fierce but playful exchange of blows, until finally, Shuri backed off and raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. You’ve proven your point."

Bucky stood there, breathing heavily but clearly energized by the fight. You stepped up, clapping your hands together with a wide smile. "See? Wasn’t that fun?"

Bucky’s grin was infectious as he wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. "Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that bad."

Shuri turned to you, her eyes gleaming. "Alright, Sparky, your turn. Let’s see if you can catch me off guard like you did in the last match."

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Bucky, who gave you an encouraging nod. "Well, now you’ve set the bar high. I’m not going easy on you, Shuri."

"Please," Shuri shot back, her hands up in mock defense. "You’ve been watching me fight for hours. You should be learning from the best."

Without further hesitation, you lunged forward, engaging in a playful but intense match with Shuri. The two of you danced around each other in a blur of motion, your moves swift and calculated. Despite the lighthearted nature of the spar, you could feel the tension lifting from your body with each exchange, just as Bucky had felt it earlier.

While you were engaged with Shuri, Bucky stepped to the side, wiping his hands on his pants, trying to catch his breath. It felt good to get some of the old tension out, and he could already feel a weight lifting off his chest. This wasn’t just about physical recovery; this was about reclaiming who he was before Hydra took everything from him.

As you landed a final mock hit on Shuri, the two of you paused, both out of breath but smiling. "Okay," Shuri said, raising her hands in mock defeat. "You win. For now."

Bucky chuckled and gave you an approving glance. "Not bad at all, dove."

Before you could respond, the hum of the training facility shifted, and you turned to see none other than King T’Challa himself entering, his imposing presence filling the room. He stood tall and regal, as always, his black suit glimmering in the light.

"I see I’ve missed the fun," T'Challa said, his voice smooth and commanding but laced with amusement. His gaze flickered to you and Bucky, a hint of recognition sparking in his eyes. "It’s good to see both of you adjusting to the training."

Shuri quickly approached him, a grin spreading across her face. "You’re late, brother. We were just finishing up testing the new recruits."

"Your Highness," you greeted with a respectful nod, trying to keep it casual despite the obvious presence of royalty.

Bucky shot a quick, somewhat uneasy glance at T'Challa. "Good to see you, my King." There was an awkward pause. "You know, for a king, you really get around."

T'Challa raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I have to keep an eye on all things Wakanda, soldier. You know how it is." He nodded to Shuri, who was now standing by his side. "But it seems like you’ve both been testing your skills. Shuri tells me you’re adjusting well."

Bucky gave him a nod but glanced at you for a second, unsure of how to respond. "It’s... a process." He wasn’t one for small talk, but he appreciated the respect, however minimal.

Shuri couldn’t resist chiming in with a teasing grin. "Oh, he’s adjusting alright. You should’ve seen him during his first simulation—he was more stiff than an old tree trunk." She grinned at Bucky’s groan, enjoying every second of it. "But he’s getting there. Slowly but surely."

T'Challa’s expression softened as he looked at Bucky, understanding more than Shuri likely realized. "Recovery is not an easy thing." He glanced over at you. "And neither is learning to live with one’s past."

You gave him a nod, your gaze meeting Bucky’s for a second before you turned back to T'Challa. "We’re getting there, one step at a time."

T'Challa smiled approvingly. "I admire that resilience. It’s something we value here in Wakanda." Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he looked at Bucky with an intrigued glint in his eyes. "Though, I must admit, I’m curious to see how well you fare against me. A bit of friendly competition. What do you say?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but there was a fire behind his gaze. "You want to spar with me?" There was a hint of hesitation, but he stood tall. "Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m not exactly new to this whole combat thing."

You chuckled at the banter between them, feeling a slight tension lifting in the air. "Bucky’s modest, your Highness." You raised your eyebrows playfully. "He’s a bit of a pro."

T'Challa shot you a smirk. "We shall see." His eyes gleamed as he turned to Shuri. "I trust you’ll monitor the match?" His voice was both joking and confident, a reflection of his quiet authority.

Shuri, clearly amused, leaned back against a nearby pillar. "Of course. But don’t expect me to step in and save either of you."

The two warriors squared off, and the battle began. It was intense, the simulation environment adapted around them to create a variety of settings that challenged their skills. The air seemed to crackle with anticipation as Bucky and T'Challa went back and forth, exchanging blows and testing each other’s limits.

T'Challa was swift, his agility unmatched, his movements fluid and precise. Bucky, though initially stiff, was growing into the rhythm of the fight. Every time he took a hit or made a mistake, you could see the mental gears turning as he shook off the old training, not just physically but emotionally. The fight, at its core, was a way for him to break free from the grip of his past, and with every successful move, you saw more of that freedom in his eyes.

At one point, Bucky got a clean strike on him, and you couldn't help but grin. "Nice one, Bucky!" You teased, winking at him as T'Challa tried to regain his footing.

T'Challa let out a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at you. "I see you’ve got a knack for encouraging troublemakers." His tone was light, but the respect was evident in his gaze.

As the match continued, Bucky and T'Challa pushed each other to their limits, the combat becoming more than just physical—it was a test of strength, willpower, and resilience. Finally, after a long, hard-fought battle, T'Challa managed to get the upper hand, pinning Bucky to the ground.

Both men panted, sweaty and bruised, but there was no malice in T'Challa’s eyes, only a deep respect.

The king stood up and extended a hand to Bucky, pulling him to his feet. "I must admit, I did not expect that much resistance. You’ve earned my respect." He grinned, looking over at you. "And you, my friend, are no slouch either."

You laughed, wiping some sweat from your brow. "Well, someone has to keep him on his toes." You nudged Bucky playfully.

T'Challa looked at you both, a thoughtful expression on his face before he nodded. "You both are warriors in your own right." He walked over to the side of the room, where a ceremonial dagger rested on a pedestal. With a dramatic flair, he picked it up, turning back toward you and Bucky. "In recognition of your resilience and strength, I will knight you both."

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. "Knight us? Really?"

T'Challa nodded, his tone light but firm. "Yes, indeed. The royal family needs soldiers like you—strong, resilient, and fierce." His smile was playful, but there was a deeper meaning behind it.

You both protested, not wanting to accept the title, but T'Challa insisted with a laugh, his voice warm and commanding. "You don’t have to like it, but I’m already planning something for you two anyway."

Bucky glanced at you, then at T'Challa, and, after a beat, gave in with a grin. "Alright, alright. But don’t expect us to start calling ourselves knights or anything."

You nodded, smirking. "Yeah, we’ll stick to being not-so-humble soldiers."

T'Challa’s grin widened as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. "Very well. But know this—you are both welcome here."

You and Bucky exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between you. Whatever came next, it was going to be a memorable ride.

PART ONE. l NEXT PART.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler — @zyra-7 .

⠀⠀

dividers ©️ @cafekitsune .

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[haechvn]

Dating Shuri Udaku Headcanons

Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader

Warning: Fluff, Toxic!Shuri, Angst and Smut since yall nasty asf

Summary/Request: I got so many requests for an update so here it is!

Word Count: 1k words

Author’s Note: I decided to make her mean since you hoes wanna be treated like shit or whatever. I'm getting back into my groove with this one for sure. 18+ MDNI fr or imma beat yall ass. NEED MORE SHURI GIFS WTH

Taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @theblacksuccubus @melodykisses @blackhottie25 @tonakings @coalmistyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @yelenabelovasgf @callmeoncette @clqrosmgc @theblacksuccubus @cherios @shuris-whore @nut4shuri @gaspyghosttt @elliesdinosauar @idkhersposts @ziayamikaelson @trinthebean @sleepingnova @yunhofingers

Credits: @anitalenia for the super cute dividers get into itttt

Fluff 

Cooks breakfast for you every morning after the two of you have sweet and reckless nights together 

Loves getting the two of you matching sets of grillz. Gold, silver, diamond studded. It doesn't matter

Brings you alongside her for all of her council meetings as she truly values your opinion and wants you to be involved and know your role in leading the nation with her

Has a throne for you next to hers 

Trains you with the Dora because she doesn’t want what happened last time with Namor to ever repeat itself

Buys you whatever you want right off each and every runway during all the major Fashion Week shows

Always get the biggest section when y’all got out and you betta be shaking that ass cause she gon be throwing them bills babyyyy

The amount of decorated hotel rooms you get from her is ridiculoussss. She’ll decorate a whole hotel for you just because she loved seeing your smile in the morning.

Always has her hand in yours no matter what the two of you are doing. Even hold your hand while you two brush your teeth

Never breaks eye contact with you while the two of you are speaking

Has more that 100 nicknames for you

Toxic/Angsty 

Purposely starts arguments with you because it turns her on to see you riled up and she can’t stop thinking about you putting her back in her place

Used a bit too much of her strength on you during training and you had to stay in the hospital for a few nights. She locked herself in her room and couldn’t even stand to look at you when you were released. 

Sometimes she lacks empathy because she believes she’s gone through the worse shit. She definitely gaslights you sometimes and walks away if you complain to her about having family issues

“Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom everyday. Where’s mine? Oh yea right. I’m done listening”

Tries to deny that she felt anything for RiRi but will constantly talk about how beautiful she is just to get you jealous. You end up beating her ass bc wtf

One of those lesbians that doesn't like when you talk to other women bc why the fuck would you?

Will look you dead in the eyes and tell you that you aren’t more important than her work and you should just leave her alone and spend the money she gives you. She sent 2 mil to your account while you stormed out of the lab

She’ll deny you sex because she didn’t like the way you spoke to the Dora earlier that morning. You said hi 

She sometimes embarrassed by the lack of strength you have. Like tighten up tf

“Can you stop touching me? Even the Dora don’t smother me this much.”

Hates when you constantly run your hands through her hair like she didn’t just get it done

Kisses her teeth when you try to shake your ass and it doesn’t move the way she want it too

“Try harder maybe? Ugh just stop actually. You look cringe doing that” LIKE WHERE'S YOUR ASS MA'AM????

Smut

Shuri likes when you eat her pussy with her panther suit on. Yes. That part is cut out 

She has different grillz for eating your pussy and then ones for eating you ass— SHE A BOTTOMFEEDAAAA

Shuri loves pressing her kimoyo beads against your clit and sending intense vibrations there. Rose toy who???

She eats your pussy at night sometimes because if you look hard enough while she’s making your head spin, her inner bottom lip glows softly with her vibranium tattoo, being the only source of light in the room

LOVES WHEN YOU DRILL HER SHIT TO THE POINT THAT SHE CANT BREATHE AND TRIES TO GRASP AROUND BUT SHE CANT BC THE VIBRANIUM CUFFS TOO STRONG EVEN FOR HER SO SHE HAS TO BEG YOU TO RELEASE HER EVEN THOUGH SHE KNOWS YOU WON’T AHHH

Can literally eat you out for hours and against your (consented) will, she definitely does

RIDES YOU IN THE NASTIEST SLOPPIEST WAY LIKE SHE LOVES SEEING YALL CREAM MIX AND IS OBSESSED WITH HOW STICKY SHE IS AND HOW MUCH STICKIER YOU ARE UGH SHE PRESSES HER LIPS AGAINST YOUR AS IF SHE CAN GO INSIDE YOU BYEEEEEEE

SHE AINT NO FAKE GAY NO MA’AM

Wakes you up most mornings with her lips sucking and teasing your breast bc babe she can’t get enough

BOTTOM!SHURI LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON THE THRONE AND SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF CUM OVER AND OVER RIDING YOUR THIGH WHILE YOU SIT ON HER THRONE OH WOW

SHE WHINES SO MUCH AND IS NOT QUIET AT ALL. Constantly getting complaints from everyone in the palace

Likes getting her ass devoured. SORRY NOT SORRY 

Kissing you alone get her wetter than river Niger omgggg (I’m African and this how we say it PLS)

Constantly talking you through EVERYTHING she does to you

“You take my fingers so well”

“Hmm, you know I love when you squeeze around me like that. Fuck, do that again.” (THE WAY SHE ROLLS HER R’S UGHHH)

“Please, I can’t take it. I-I… Fuck you feel so good. Don’t stop fucking me, put me in my place”

Never breaks eye contact with you when she’s drilling the shit out of you 

LOVES WHEN YOU FUCK HER FACE WITH ALL THE STRAPS SHES MADE IN THE LAB

Literally she’ll be in the lab with her goggles on with all her tools scattered all of the table and gets wet picturing you standing over her and using her mouth like a toy OMG

Loves when you tie her up with pink and purple ribbons and stuff her mouth with your panties BYE

LIKES BEING BLINDFOLDED AND WEARING FLUFFY EARMUFFS SO YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING TO HER AND GIVING YOU FULL CONTROL

WHITE FLUFFY EARMUFFS WITH PINK RIBBONS AND HER CURLY HAIR SHAKING AROUND EVERY TIME SHE MOVES

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Who fell first and who fell harder?

⤷Marvel Edition

She fell first but you fell harder:

Kate Bishop, Jane Foster, Sharon Carter

You fell first but she fell harder:

Natasha Romanoff, Nebula, Valkyrie, Carol Danvers

You fell first and harder:

Gamora, Peggy Carter, Shuri, Maria Hill

She fell first and harder:

Wanda Maximoff, Mantis

[mellowwillowy]

I can't stop picturing Yan getting a boner while playing because he was scolded by the reader (He's actually a pro but...) 2, 3

Gamer Reader: Argh! Fuck! Are you blind? Can you even see the damn map on the corner, you dimwit?!

Masochist Yan: *panting* I, I, I'm sorry! Sorry sorry sorry!

Gamer Reader: haaah? Sorry, my ass! What the fuck is wrong with you? How do you even get to this rank? Did you fucking pay someone to push your damn rank?

Masochist Yan: Please, one more match? We are from the same guild so we'll earn more if we win together.

Gamer reader: Fuck this up one more time and I'll fucking find you and kick you right in your nuts.

Masochist yan: ... *purposely fucks everything up* oooh... *head clouded by the thought reader doing shits on him, boxer drenched*

Gamer Reader: hdfbshjfbewlb nqafjbnflwnfneiqlbfw fuccccccccck

𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔:

Gamer Reader: Argh! Fuck! Are you blind? Can you even see the damn map on the corner, you dimwit?!

Blind Yan: Sorry, first time playing and yes I am.

Gamer Yan: *visible guilt and confusion* ???

[axailslink]

You must think me a fool

Dark!Shuri Udaku x Princess!Warrior FEM reader

Synopsis: Her people fear her she slaughtered a community just to save them but has she also lost her humanity? Can she force the image of a domesticated lifestyle with you who wants nothing to do with her? To do with a murderer?

"Marry? what reason do I need to marry?" Shuri doesn't take her eyes off of her past projects trying to find some sort of flaw something to update so that she doesn't let herself get completely drowned in her royal affairs. "They fear you Shuri. Do you not care?" Shuri rolls one of her kimoyo beads around in the palm of her hand "of course I care Okoye but I can't parade as if I am not upset my mother-" "your mother would want you to continue your life not sulk and-" "-you are not dora milaje anymore why do you insist on giving me guidance?" Okoye is silenced in this moment because she is right she's not Dora milaje "I am family that's why I persist but please keep acting the way you do and push the only family away you have left. To be the smartest woman I know you surely make the most idiotic decisions when you're upset. Umntwana (a child.)"

~

Shuri has a point to prove so here she sits in the middle of common folks equivalent to a living room but nothing in comparison four pillars on each corner of the room no doors but instead large arched paths that lead you to the next room or a hallway that leads to the next room. Candles light the room instead of lights so it's dimly lit not a lot but enough to see whoever resides in said room. You're nowhere in sight because this meeting as your mother said is "none of your concern" even though you're sure when you hear the truths behind it you'll disagree.

"You want my daughters hand in marriage?" The older lady sitting across from Shuri is astonished because what in the mother of above has possessed Shuri to ask for such a thing? "I don't understand you've disappeared from her life and now you want her hand?" "I'm begging for your daughter's hand I need to fool my people and she is one of the few women I've ever been interested in as a friend or as a potential queen." Shock reads the woman's face and the candles only deepen the creases on her face as she makes a contorted facial expression as she forces her next words "as much as I am willing to do so I don't think she's as willing as I." Shuri keeps her face straight unsure why a friend would not be willing to help her in such a time of need "could I speak to her?" The hesitation reaches the woman's voice before it even spills from her lips "she's... She's sparing maybe another time princess?" Shuri cocks her head at being called the wrong title but it's only momentarily "queen my title is "queen" it hasn't been "princess" in a very long time and I wish to speak with her." Before the conversation can continue and Shuri is given more time to disrespect your mother she goes to say her final piece to her "your people are dying from sickness, your animals too, your greenery can't be taken care of if the people who care for them can barely stand. My people are healthy and strong I wouldn't be opposed to lending you a hand if you lend me her hand." Your mother would never make a decision like this without your knowledge and Shuri knows it but it wouldn't hurt to tip the scale a bit in her favor before she spoke to you.

Shuri doesn't give her a chance to give a response before she wanders out of the dimly lit space into the dark hall feeling her bare feet on the rocks as she approaches the sparring room. She watches for a while as you seem to annihilate some kid with her own weapon when caught off guard you kick the tiny dagger out of the little girl's hand and Shuri is quick to grab it. "You must think yourself a worthy opponent Shuri" Shuri let's her eyes scan you and the white thin cloth that she can't believe you would call a dress "no hugs?" You smile "now why would I hug a murderer?"

"Using the common words I thought the term was a "warrior" I guess you no longer think me a friend?" You gently sign to the child to leave you both be and she does running off on the tips of her toes. "You slaughtered a community Shuri I don't think I can forgive you for that" Shuri nods as approaches you but you still your stance barely noticing the cuts lined upon your arms leaking blood onto the granite floor "it was my people or theirs I was sure you of all people would understand."

"We aged together but I would never murder you know this... You killed. Since when have we done that?" You both circle each other wondering who will pounce first? It could be you with your perfect stance ready to throw Shuri off if she does or it could be Shuri ready to attack if you so far as think to jump. "I was protecting my people!" You shake your head "you were looking for a reason to mask your revenge!" Shuri sighs the breath being the moment of letting her guard down that you just seemed to be waiting for because you grab Shuri by her neck and turn her so quickly she can't get a hold of you. Crouching behind you bring her down with you your knee pressed firmly into her back uncomfortably behind her spinal cord as the other hand stays firmly on her neck "What brings the murderer to my palace?" Shuri gasps carefully her Adams apple bobs beneath the feel of your rough fingers.

"Marry me" you grip loosens just for a moment at the shock of her words and she takes advantage sliding the dagger up your leg and breaking herself free "awukwazi ukuba serious (you can't be serious)" Shuri nods. "I simply need a favor and I shall give you one in return." You shake your head as you hold your leg "no whatever it is no. Absolutely not."

"Your people are dying"

"No"

"Yes"

"Your people are sick"

"No"

"Yes"

"Your people are vegetarian yet I see no greenery what are they eating?"

"Get out." Shuri sighs "let me help" "I don't want your help I don't even know who you are" "I am your friend" Shuri begs you with her eyes but you don't want to hear any words coming from her lips. "Marry me put on a facade and I will feed your people so well they'll be fat. I will help grow the greenery and get rid of the sickness that has consumed you all just fake this one thing for me. Don't be selfish." You sigh and stand up letting the blood drip down your leg "you move different Shuri Udaku..." Shuri says nothing now letting you get your turn to speak "it's not elegant it's not queenly you move like you care for nothing but yourself I'm sure that's true."

"I care about you..."

"You must think me a fool."

~

Within a few hours you're with Shuri on her way back to the kingdom you don't put up a fight after the conversation earlier. The faster you do this the faster your people get better it's sick of Shuri to cut a proposition like this really but it comes to surprise to you that she'd do something so evil. You're right she does move differently. She moves like a queen who doesn't deserve have her throne.

A/n: this took a big turn not even going to lie this was supposed to be some enemies to lovers y'all wasn't even supposed to know each other but once again I took a plot and ran with it. Also very unedited I have some military related stuff just wanted to give y'all something because it's been a very long time and I do apologize for that.

[desswright29]

Contains: Petty Argument, Overreacting reader, Overprotective Shuri, Bratty reader, Angry Shuri/reader, Reader testing the fuck out of Shuri’s patience, apologetic reader. Smut (18+), Sub Shuri 🫦, (I was inspired lol) Reader has PTSD from her past abusive relationship. A/N: This is in the “Shame” universe. I just felt like writting. So this is a side quest as I write PTV. I hope y’all enjoy! Also this shit is not edited. Read at your own risk lmao.

“Mholo ngalentsasa, umfazi wam.” Your wife’s voice was soft, slightly raspy with sleep this morning. You sensed an aggitated apprehensiveness in her tone, even in your groggy state. Her back was to you as she sat in the lounge area of the bedroom, eating a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch while watching the news. Your vision was still blurry, eyes sensitive to the amount of sun shining into the room, as you stare at the back Shuri’s head from the bed.

“Good Morning baby, are you eating cereal? I was going to cook breakfast for us.” You stretch, becoming more aware of your surroundings, and most importantly of your body, you recognize the pounding headache at your temples and the aching in your bones.

“It is just after noon, 12:02 to be exact, and you sweet girl, are sick.” Your eyes bulge at her revelation of the time.

“Afternoon!” You shot up fast, and was  immediately hit with an overwhelming dizzyness that forced you to lay back against the headboard. You were in denial about the final part of her statement, even though your body ached from head to toe, you had the sweats, and your head was pounding. But, you were on tour and had no intention of canceling tonight’s show.

She glanced at you over her shoulder. “Take it slow, my love. You tossed and turned all night, running a fever. I had Griot check your vitals and your fever got dangerously high. I was up all night making sure you were alright. You’ve been sweating a lot so you need to hydrate.” Hesitance laced her tone as she stared ahead at the television. Your face was plastered all over the news. Fans already lined up outside of the arena waiting to see you perform. “I think that it would be best if you cancelled tonight’s show, no?” Shuri knew that her advice would not be well received, and braced herself.

“Uh no! Shuri you should’ve woke me up. I’m not canceling my show! Now I’m gonna be rushing.” You try standing only for your body to reject it. Landing right back onto the bed. Shuri’s chin dropped to her chest, pinching her nose trying not to allow her frustration to over power her rationale.

“Sthandwa, it’s been weeks. You’re over due a break. I told you this was going to happen and that you need to slow down.” Shuri spoke with her usual calm demeanor. Trying to keep you from going into a panic.

“I have!” Your voice went up an octave as you lied to no one except for yourself. Shuri threw her arm over the back of the couch, finally turning to look at you fully “No. You have not.” She rebutted. You roll your eyes sitting on the side of the bed. You notice the lounge wear you wore to bed had been changed. You were sure that was courtesy of your thoughtful wife.

“Uuuuugghhh Shuri. Please. I don’t have the energy for this.”

“Right. That is exactly my point. How do you plan to do a show in your condition ubusi?” Shuri cocked her head to the side as she waited for an answer that would make sense.

“I’ll take something for the pain and fever, go back to sleep for a couple of hours, and I’ll be ok when I wake up.” Shuri placed her half eaten bowl onto the table, getting up to walk over to the bed. She got on one knee in front of you. Grabbing one of your hands and lifting your chin with her other.

“No you won’t. Baby, your body is exhausted, it can only take so much more.  I’ve been medicating you all night. It keeps coming back. You need rest. You have to know when to take a break, or this lifestyle is going to break you.” You groan in defiance.

“I understand you mean well Shuri but I have an obligation to my fans. If I cancel tonight it’s going to complicate everything. We’ll have to refund everyone. Pay a fine to the venue…and damnit I just want to perform! It’s Madison Square Garden for Bast sake!” You whined. You leaned forward catching your head in your hands in frustration. Shuri rubbed your arm comfortingly. 

“Don’t stress yourself. I understand. I know you love what you do. You put a lot of hard work into it, and I admire that. But, Thando you’re taking your body through a lot of physical strain. Training with the Dora, learning your duties as consort, and actively on tour. It’s physically impossible for any human.” 

“You have more on your plate than I do. And you’re doing just fine!” Shuri, being true to the patient woman that you married, continued being calm during your temper tantrum.

“Bambo’lawami, while I am human, I have a bit of an advantage here. I should hardly be the determining factor for your work ethic. You need to let something go.” If Shuri only knew where her statement would take this, she would immediately swallow those words. Your head jerks back as you look down at Shuri, chuckling though very unamused.

“OOOOh, ok… I’m getting it now. Is the career I built getting in the way of my duties for Wakanda?” You raised a brow as Shuri mimicked your prior movement, her head jerking back in confusion.

“What? That has nothing to do with what I said.” 

“No. But, it has everything to do with what you implied.” You say, your words laced with spite. 

The creases in her forhead increased with each word that came from your mouth.

“Sthand-“

“Don’t fucking SthANdwa me. I already know what you’re gonna say. ‘You are being unreasonable Entle, I only want what’s best for you.’ When we both know that this your way of introducing the idea of me giving up my career, so that I can play the submissive Queens consort? Walk to the right and two steps behind you!?” Shuri sat back on her haunches, completely taken aback. She snickered.

“Are you for real? I-“ Your hand comes up, placing it directly into your wife’s face. She bit into the corner of her bottom lip. A sneer appearing on her upper, as her nostrils flared.

“I don’t want to hear shit you have to say. I’m doing this and every other show I have scheduled for MY tour. I’m not giving up who I am and what I’VE built to play small and be your little wife.” You go to mush Shuri’s face but her hand quickly grasped your wrist placing your hand gently back onto the bed. 

“Whoa. You’re loosing it Nkosazana. Dont put your hand in my face. Don’t ever disrespect me like that.” Her pointer finger came up, centered between your eyes. 

“And what are you gonna do?” You say swatting her hand away. She removed her hand before you could make contact. You place your hand back into her face and she swats it. The two of you go through this back in forth for a moment until frustration takes over and you catch Shuri off guard pushing her away from you making her land on her butt. 

“Y/n what the fuck are you doing!?” Shuri’s voice became high pitched as confusion took over her. She remained seated on the floor.

“My intent is not to start an arguement with you. You’re stressed and not feeling well. Apparently, you have some other unrelated issue with me, that we should discuss at a better time. Because, no way you’re taking my concern for your health as some sort of power play.” The statement came out as a question.

“Yup.” You say crossing your arms and rolling your neck. 

“Y/n.”

“Yuuup.” You say more aggressive. Shuri squinted her eyes a smirk turning up one of her cheeks.

“Yea?”

“Yup” You repeat.

“Childish.” You shrug staring at her waiting impatiently for whatever it was she had to say. Quietly, her eyes scan over your body. Had it been any other time, or had you felt better the look on her face would’ve folded you like origami. However, now you had an unwarranted point to prove. Just because Shuri was a sexy, domineering goddess didn’t mean you were going to drop everything for her. You built your image without her and planned to maintain it. You were a Queen in your own right before marrying Shuri, this was your shit!

“It seems as though we’re past not arguing.” You cock your head to the side with all the attitude you can muster, as Shuri stands to her feet, clenching her jaw. 

 “Llisten, Your health at the moment is what matters to me. That is all this is about.”

“Puh’ lease, you been on this shit. Does my success make you insecure Shuri?” You continued pushing your invalid point. Shuri closed her eyes.

“Bast, I’m trying to keep my composure.”

“And if you loose it?” You raise a brow continuing to challenge Shuri. She stepped forward Jaw clenched. 

“You want to act like a child, y/n? Fine, I’ll treat you like one. If you so much as think about going to that show tonight, I’m going to hunt you down and drag your little ass back into this house and chain you to the bed. Do you understand me?”

Your mouth dropped, a sudden burst of energy hit you as you lept to your feet standing on the bed in an attempt to over power Shuri. 

“Who the fuck you think you talking to?!!” Shuri snorted turning to walk away. 

“The only person confused in here is you. I guess the 103 degree fever you were running was boiling your brain cells. I’ll be happy to remind you who YOU are speaking with. We maybe consorts but I rule over you. Calm yourself.” She punctuated her sentence jabbing her finger in your direction. “You’ve gotten beside yourself. I’ll shut the fucking city down before I let you leave this house thinking it’s ok to distrespect me the way you are. The only point I’m making is that you’re running that beautiful body of yours into the ground. And it’s going to give way mama.” At this point you were relentless. 

“Ha! Oh that’s cute kitten.” Shuri shook her head chewing on the insides of her cheeks. Confused at how you even got to this point. She’d made her way back to the sitting area plopping down onto the couch. You followed. “Be serious, your intimidated because I’m not one of these thirsty bitches that need you. I’m good on my own and I could have just as much without you and your trying to ta-“ Shuri shot back to her feet. Making her way to you in a few long strides.

“I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR LITT-.” Shuri tried stopping herself before playing into this foolish argument, but it was too late. You had shook her calm front, and cut her off.

“There it is!! There the fuck it is! Show yourself!” 

“EVERYDAY! Y/n EVERY FUCKING DAY I go out of my way making sure you’re happy and ok. And you think I would wait until you were ill to push some dumb ass agenda I’ve been hiding onto you.” You stare at her unyielding in your point. Shuri stepped back chuckling, She threw her hands up in surrender.

“You know what. Fuck it. Do as you please! Fuck me for giving a shit about my wife. Go risk your LIFE to dress in a strip of fabric and clap your ass in front of an a arena full of strangers. I’m done!” You smirk.

“Proved my point.” 

“Discussion over.”

“I bet it is.”

“OVER!” Your eyes connected with Shuri’s. Though you may not have been very connected with your own limits. You knew Shuri’s. So you chose to heed her warning. You stomped around the room collecting your things while Shuri sat slumped on the couch attending to business on her Kimoyo beads. 

“I’m going to wait for the car at Bruno’s and I’ll stay with my sister after my show.”

“Do what you gotta do.” Her voice had gone down an octave, raspy and tired. Your aching body wanted so bad to go over, fall into her lap, and let her nurse you back to health. But, the stubbornness in you, the part that was afraid to rely fully on Shuri or anyone because of your checkered past relationships, pressed on. 

“Eat a dick.” You say calmly before snatching open the door, and slamming it as hard as you could behind you. 

“Tuh.” And a snicker was Shuri’s only reaction. Her nonchalance only a weak bandage for the wound you’d just caused her.

Shuri was in a bad mood. It was apparent in her stifling demeanor as she swaggered backstage. Her lack of sleep, the heated argument between the two of you, and pure worry for her wife drove her to an astute level of unapproachable. Her shades hid her frustrated eyes, but her demeanor was not to be misunderstood.

She’d tried getting some rest, tried staying away and letting you do your thing. But, even when she was pissed at you her love and protective instincts for you would always over power any anger. So, after stubbornly tossing and turning on the couch, and stomping through the house mumbling angrily to herself, after her failed attempt at sleeping. She decided to take a shower, and then she found herself getting dressed, grabbing keys, and heading in the direction of Madison Square Garden in the Royal Talon. 

You were halfway through your set, as she walked over to the wings. Your tour Manager Wayne stood watching intently, until he felt the presence of the Queen approaching. Shuri saw his shoulders visibly tense as she walked up beside him.

“Why do you look nervous Wayne? Is there a reason you would need to be cautious around me?” She never made eye contact. Just leaned  her shoulder onto a pillar, crossing her legs at the ankle, staring out onto the stage.

“N-no I-“ She cut him off, not having the patience to beat around the bush.

“Tell me, have you seen my wife today?”

“Uh, Well yes.” Shuri’s jaw tensed as she nodded, somehow the shades covering her eyes made this moment even more frightening for the man. The lights from the stage casting a red glow over her. 

“Really? Because if you had. You would know that she is in no condition to be on that stage tonight.” Her head turned slightly to the right of her where Wayne stood shifting on his feet.

“She said she’d be good by show time. E-everyone was already here I-I couldn’t cancel. I was just doing as she sa-“ 

“Isn’t apart of your job to make sure that my wife is in good health. Does it not matter if the artist is well? Or are you just worried about your check? Because, I can get you your check, and  it’ll be the last. Was this one show worth your job Wayne?” Shuri raised a brow, and a sarcastic smile spread across Shuri’s face. 

“I’m so-“ The shivering teary eyed man began. 

“Shuri!” Dani marched up standing in between the two of them. Interrupting the tense moment.

“Wayne, go gather yourself. I hear the Queen is on a little power trip because she can’t control my sister. She’ll get over it.” Shuri scoffed as Wayne rushed off. 

“I heard you were here terrorizing the staff because y/n went through with her show. Lay off it Shuri! This is a sold out show at Madison Square Garden! You’re not about to mess this night up for her.”

“Me! Mess it up! Dani have you even seen your sister up close for the past couple of weeks!? She’s fucking exhausted. She’s pushing herself entirely too hard.”

“So, she has to give up her career?!”

“WHO THE FUCK IS SAYING THAT! Demethi! You two are definietly related. She JUST NEEDS A BREEAAAAAK! From EVERYTHING! GAHDAMN!” 

“I think she knows her limitations. She’s putting on a flawless show. You can’t control-“

“I don’t -…. You know what Dani, It’s best if  nobody says shit to me tonight. I’m here to ensure my wife’s safety. Keep the rest.” Dani rolled her eyes.

“Whatever.” She said as her and Shuri stood silently watching the show. 

She watched your body move, as you sang effortlessly. The truth was, Shuri loved watching you in your element. The joy in your face, the sound of your voice. How you lost yourself becoming an entirely different being on stage. She loved even more the private shows she got after a show was over, the both of you all riled up. You, from trying to turn your wife on while onstage. Her, from you succeeding. Yea. After show sex was Shuris favorite. A smirk found it’s way to Shuri’s lips as she thought about your escapades. She didn’t want to argue. She just wanted you to be ok, and she couldn’t rest until she felt that you were. Taking something that you loved and excelled at would have never crossed Shuri’s mind, and it hurt her that you believed it would.

The show was coming to an end, and per usual it had been effortless. You did your final song. thanking your fans as the band continued to play you off stage. Shuri felt silly. Maybe she had overreacted. But, was she wrong? All she’d wanted was for you to be safe and healthy. You couldn’t be too mad at her for that. Could you?

The crowd roared as you did your signature strut off of the stage. The walk Shuri loved so much. Her eyes trailed over your body, starting at your feet, up to those thick thighs, your non existent waist, your beautiful bouncing breast, and then that gorge-. That’s when Shuri saw it,  your face was pale, washed out. There was fear in your eyes as you approached the wings as fast possible. Shuri’s face dropped as you got out of view of the crowd. She stepped forward.

“Y/n, babe.” Your eyes met her shaded ones, and you made it to your wife just in time to wrap your arms around her neck and faint. 

“Sis! Y/n!” Dani yelled, running to Shuri’s side. Jumping into action Shuri swooped the rest of your limp body up into her arms. 

“Move!” She yelled as she made her way through the crowded back stage. Chaos, ensued as everyone realized what was happening. Shuri tried making it to the Talon fighter, everything she needed to nurse you conscious was there, but suddenly she felt you stiffening in her arms. She stopped in her tracks looking down at you.

“EVERYBODY GIVE HER SOME SPACE SHES SEIZING! Someone get me something to cushion her head!” She barked orders as people ran around trying to find ways to help, or just stood staring. She gently placed you on your side as your sister took off her jacket placing it under your head, as your body began jerking. 

“It’s ok baby I’m here. I’m going to make sure you’re ok.” Medics rushed in with a gurney, directing everyone not to hover. Shuri lie on the floor above your head. Whispering words of encouragement. 

“I got you baby. Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.” Once you stopped seizing, They moved into action. Hurrying to get you onto the gurney before you went into another seizure. 

“Take her to the roof. I’m taking her home. We have whatever medical assistance she needs.” Shuri ordered as her and your sister ran beside the gurney. The Dora and your team followed close behind. 

Once safely on the aircraft Shuri had you placed you in a bed. Her first goal to hydrate you. She’d noticed weeks ago that in your attempt to juggle everything you weren’t eating enough, or staying hydrated. Your body had been running on fumes. Not getting nearly enough of anything it needed. Food, water, or sleep. Not to mention all of the sweating you did in your sleep last night. She’d spoken on it several times, and she continuously went ignored. Now your body had finally caved. She worked on you silently. Cutting off the restricting clothes. Giving you fluids through an IV and placing a cooling pad over your body. A tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She’d never forgive herself for not being more insistent on you canceling if something happened to you. 

“Griot. Does she show any signs of injury?”

“Assessing damage Panther.” She waited patiently as Griot scanned your body. “Ikumkani wam shows no signs of injury.”

“Thank Bast.” Shuri breathed a sigh of relief. 

You began to stir and Shuri stood to her feet walking over to your side. She held your hand as you opened your eyes. 

“Hey there, pretty girl.” She says leaning in, gently caressing the side of your face. 

“W-what happened?”

“You fainted, and had a seizure.” Your eyes widened before you averted your eyes. 

“I’m not here for I told you so baby. I’m just happy you’re ok.”

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. 

“Did I hear her talking?” Your sister walked in with Wayne trailing behind. “Girl thank God you’re up. You scared the shit out of me!” Your sister came over kissing your forehead.

“Yes we’re all happy to see you up. You gave us all quite a scare.” Wayne said. Your team stood outside of the door not wanting to overwhelm you. Shuri spoke up. 

“I’m glad you all are here. I think this is a perfect time for me to voice how I don’t appreciate the complete disregard for my wife’s health. If it was my say all of you would be fired.”

“Shuri.” You say about to chastise her when she threw a look over her shoulder that let you know now was not the time.

“I’m being as nice as I have the patience to be right now….It’s been a long day. You all will postpone the tour for two weeks.” You gasp.

“Shuri that’s excessive! I alrea-” Shuri turned all the way around looking down at you from her seated position. 

“I’m sorry sthandwa..Did that sound like a request? I should’ve went with my first mind and shut it down last night. However, this is your thing. So I deemed it necessary to run it by you first. But, since you don’t seem to know your limits I’ll be taking things into my own hands until you prove to me you can. And it’s not up for discussion.” She spoke firm staring directly into your eyes, and there was no room for argument. She directed her attention back to your team. 

“Call the venues, get a price point on the fines and the date changes. Let me know. I’ll take care of it. Staff will also be compensated. Just get it done. All business is to go through me and me only for the next two weeks. Got it.” Everyone acknowledged her with a firm yes and she dismissed everyone to allow you to rest. With the exception of Dani, who decided to stay with the two of you to help out.

Shuri pulled up a document on her Kimoyo beads and began typing.

“What are you doing?” You ask

“Requesting that M’Baku take my place for the next two weeks. So I don’t overwhelm myself.”

She side eyed you and you looked away. She turned around to you grabbing your chin, turning your head back toward her. 

“Ubusi, when I met you…It’s like….like I grew another limb. You became apart of me. Apart of my body, and If you’re not ok neither am I. I need you to take care of my body baby. There is no strength without rest.” You bite into your lip. Your wife always had a beautiful way with words. 

“I understand. I’m sorry about earlier I-“

“Let’s not talk about that now. You need to get some rest. I’m not dismissing it. Just saving it for another time. Ok?” You nod and she softly kissed your lips.

For the next week you watched your wife take care of your business. You noticed how much attention to detail she had to have been paying to the way you ran things, before you got sick. She didn’t miss a beat. She made sure you ate, hydrated, and rested. Took meetings with venues and made sure your staff was paid, suggesting that they rest as well. You also noticed, that with all the care and love she was giving you, she was still a bit stand off-ish. 

“Baby what’s wrong?” You’d find yourself asking constantly. She’d always rebut with, “Nothing my love, just a lot on my plate.” However, you knew better.

Her kisses were light and didn’t linger, she’d bring your meals, but, wouldn’t snuggle up, and eat them with you. And when you two went to bed she’d kiss your forehead and turn over away from you. You hated it! 

The two of you still hadn’t talked about the argument. The more you thought about it, the more guilty you felt for overreacting. You’d gone entirely too far. You knew that you had really hurt her with some of your harsh opinions about how she felt about you and your career. Regret was as simple as you could put it, as you watched her handle the the career you built with all the love, just as you would. You had been wrong, and hurtful. And It was your turn to apologize.

Shuri pulled into the driveway. Taking a deep breath as she turned off the car. To be honest, home had been hard for her lately. She struggled with when to bring up the fact that you had hurt her. How did this part of your relationship go? Was she even allowed to be hurt? The two of you had never made it to this point. Shuri had always been the one ruining everything, and apologizing profusely. But, she’d fixed it. She was putting her best foot forward in this marriage. Being the best wife she knew how to be. She thought you’d known that. What was she doing wrong where you didn’t see?

She had been sitting in the car for 15 minutes. Meetings with your team, updates with the council, and checking in on her lab filled her day and she was ready to get some rest. Finally she decided to get out. Her energy was heavy as she walked to the front door placing her key in the lock. Stepping inside of her home she was immediately met with red and gold rose petals. Large glass vases filled with long stem roses, and candles led a path to a table beautifully set for two. You sat on the table, legs crossed in your sheer black floor length dress, breast on display with an edible arrangement settled on your lap, with the words sorry carved out in pineapple. A huge teddy bear that read “I love you” sat in the corner and balloons with apologies written all over them,  littered every corner of the room. But over top of your head were huge balloons that individually spelled. IM SORRY. In case she wasn’t getting the message.

Shuri was stuck, speechless at the door. The last time you’d done something this beautiful for her was when you proposed. The thought brought tears to her eyes, as she took it all in.

“I know grand gestures and elaborate apologies are usually your thing. But, I thought I’d take a jab at it this time.” Shuri chuckled as a tear fell down her cheek. You looked at your beautiful wife. Today she was apparently feeling her femininity. A jean dress that hugged her silhouette so perfectly graced her beautiful body. Her braids were adorned with golden string, and her makeup was perfection. You couldn’t help but think that you were a lucky women. 

“You look beautiful, Sweet Lady.” She look down slightly and you could tell she was trying to hide her blush. It brought a smile to your face.

“I promise I didn’t over exert myself. Dani helped with dinner, and I had a few other hands with helping me get all of this set up, before I kicked everyone out.” You stood from the table placing the edible arrangement onto it. You reach out your hand to her. “Come here.” Shuri made her way to you, heels clicking against the marble floors. When she was close enough you grabbed her hands.

“Baby I’m sorry. For a lot of things. But, first of all for putting my hands on you. I was delirious. I am fully aware we don’t operate that way. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and that I made things more difficult than they had to be. And most importantly, I’m sorry for the things I said. I know I have a habit of putting my guard back up in certain areas of my life out of protection for myself. I recognize I don’t have to do that with you. I recognize how ungrateful and entitle I’ve been. Overlooking your effort. I do see you. And I’m very appreciative of the work you put in for us.” Shuri sniffles looking down at her feet. You lift her chin slightly so that her eyes can meet your own again. She bit into her lip, her low eyes connecting with yours. 

“I can see that I hurt you, and I hate it. I wish I could take everything I said back because I didn’t mean it in the slightest. Those weren’t words meant for you, and who you’ve shown yourself to be to me. I let the past infiltrate what we have now, and for that I truly apologize Shuri. So, if you give me the chance, I can be better at showing you how much I appreciate you. I know you know I love you. I’ll forever be in love with you. I don’t want to mess us up either. Your love is wonderful, and I don’t want to loose you.”

Shuri had tears streaming down both of her cheeks now. You use the pad of your thumb to wipe away the tears. Finally, the two of you step into eachothers arms. “I love you sthandwa, I’m giving this all I got.” She finally says. The softness in her tone almost broke you.

“I know baby. And you’re perfect.” you say wrapping your arms around her neck as she buries her face into yours. She picks her head up, placing her forhead to yours staring into your eyes.

“I miss you.” She says. You nod. Knowing exactly what she means. 

“I miss you too. Can I kiss you?” You ask. She nods.

You close the distance and give your wife a long lingering kiss for the first time in days. Your lips slide against eachothers longingly. Passionately. This woman would forever be your heart. Your everything.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper against her lips.

“I forgive you, baby.” She responds.

“I need to touch you Shuri. Can I touch you please mama?” Another request came from you against her lips. She moaned her reply into your mouth. One of your arms slipped from around her neck. Gliding down her clothed chest to her abs, to the hem of her form fitting dress. You hike up her dress, your fingers brushing against her silk lined clit, her body shivered against your touch as she stepped further into you. Her mouth gapped open at the sensation, as you rubbed up and down against her. 

“It feels like you need me to touch you. But, you won’t tell me what you need beautiful.” Shuri’s knees buckled a bit as she backed you against the table. 

“Uh uh, calm down panther. I want to take care of you. Tell me you need me.”  She panted against your mouth as you stroke her bud. “Uhn. I-I need y-you please baby.” You smirk against her lips. “Good girl.” 

Shuri moaned, as the two of you switch positions Shuri now pressed into the table.

Your kissing became more intense. Pressing her up against the table, she lifts your dress as you firmly plant your thigh between her muscular legs. Shuri whimpers quietly, grabbing the back of your head and kissing you voraciously. Your bodies heave together, squirming, and writhing. Your thighs intertwined as you hungrily rub her vulva over her panties.

 She pulls you as close to her as possible, her nails unconsciously digging into your back. You pull away from her mouth, and begin kissing her neck. Sighing as she tugs on your hair. 

“I need you Shuri.” You say as you find the zipper at the back of her dress. Slowly unzipping her dress, pulling it down her shoulders. “I need you in my life. To be loved by you. To touch you. To taste you. I love you so much.”

Your hand finds her breast under a sheer, silky bra. You feel her nipple poking through the soft fabric, and take it between your two fingers, massaging it slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” She whispers, her hips continued to rotate on your thigh, her head thrown back eyes closed in concentration.

Wanting to feel her skin, you unhook her bra and let it fall off of her shoulders. Taking her small perky breast in your hand, you caress it softly, tracing circles around her nipple. Giving each one equal attention. 

“You’re so perfect. Beautiful and perfect. All of you.”

You take a nipple into your mouth and suck lightly, encircling, and kissing each one. Shuri begans frantically moaning  trying to rub her self against you harder. You lightly run your fingers up and down her bare back. 

“Tell me what you need pretty girl.” You whisper in her ear. “Tell me what I gotta do?” Shuri whimpers.

“Bast, I love it when you talk to me like that.”

“Mmm Daddy Panther wants to be my pretty girl tonight?” Shuri grabs the front of your dress. As her hips continue to grind against you. 

“Ewe! Let me be your good girl.” Your core throbs at the pretty sound of her voice. 

She sits eye level with you. You stare intently into her eyes taking her lower lip into your mouth, sucking as your hands slide gently down her sides, onto her thighs, and inside her panties. 

She lets out sweet a little moan and buries her head in your neck. She breathes heavily on your skin as you gently rub her mound, pressing hard against her clit. Your finger slides between her lips to find her slick and wet, her clit rock-hard. 

“Ndive kamnandi (make me feel good)” Her body shivered against yours. 

“Whatever you want baby girl. Whatever you want.”

You continue, rubbing on her clit, with calculated strokes soft, slow, up, down. 

“Please baby I need more. Uhn I want to cum for you sthandwa.”

She grips the back of your neck tighter as she lets out a breathy shudder. You move your  fingers in and out of her pussy. You felt her ridges squeezing against your fingers as her hips meet your thrust. Your thumb rubbed delicate circles on her clit as tears began to run down her cheeks.

"Yes baby right there!” She says. You start pressing hard against the upper wall of her pussy. She nearly collapses from this intense sensation. Her thighs shaking beneath you. 

“Ooohh fuck me y/n. You make me feel so fucking sexy.” Your mouth was agape as you watched Shuri bounce against your fingers. She looked more erotic than you’d ever seen her before dress bunched at her waist. Sweat begining to glisten over her beautiful breast, and one of her toned legs thrown over your shoulder, her pretty feet still adorned in her heels. 

“I could cum just looking at you right now Shuri. I can’t believe you’re mine. Fuuuck.”

Your arm supported her back so she wouldn’t  fall as you brought her closer to the edge of the table.  She tenses up against you now, squeezing you with both arms. A steady stream of the most beautiful sounds to ever exit Shuri’s mouth flowing into your ears.

“You’re close baby I can feel you. Give it all to me.”

The web of your hand pressed hard against her clit as your fingers pump in and out of her. You grab her clit between your middle and index fingers, pulling the foreskin up and down. A gasp escapes her mouth. 

“Ahhhh fuckgiveitgiveittomegiveittome!”

Her words ran together as you continued to work her pussy. Teasing bringing her to the edge and slowing down because you didn’t want this to end. You loved seeing your powerful wife like this. Putty at the tips of your fingers.

By now your fingers are drenched and pruning. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, as she fell back against the table gripping the cloth. She's whispering under her breath for you to fuck her, growing more and more insistent. You were mesmerized. She began to stifle screams and you reach forward pulling a pineapple from the stick. Placing the S in sorry into your wife’s mouth. 

“Here baby. That should keep that pretty mouth quiet.”

She bites into the fruit hard. It’s juices running down the sides of her face. “Uuuuuuhhhnnn.” She lets out a long moan muffled by the the fruit. You fuck her harder, as she drools, her back begining to arch off of the table. "I'm gonna come," she says breathlessly, her mouth still full. Her body begans twitching and convulsing uncontrollably.

"It's okay, l've got you baby. Give me that shit." You lean over whispering in her ear and kissing it lightly. A few more strokes to her G-Spot, your thumb circling her clit, and you finally let her release. She lets out a long, tremulous sigh, her eyes rolling back into her head before her whole body goes limp in your arms. She comes hard, her pussy clamping down on your fingers. Her warm cream coating your hand as  you take out your dripping wet fingers. You suck her juices from your fingers and lean over her grabbing the bottom of the s of her pineapple with your teeth. Tearing it from her mouth and pecking her lips as she lay catching her breath.

You squat in front of her. Coming face to face with your work. Her panties soaking wet and rolled to the side of her fat pussy her clit jutting out between the lips. Quivering. Calling out to you. You place her heeled foot onto your shoulder and answered the call. Cleaning her up, sucking all the cum from her lower lips. And spitting it back into her clit before taking it into your mouth. Her hips buck upwards as she reached down holding your head in place. 

“Too sensitive.” She says. You reach up moving her hand from your head holding it in your hand. “You can do it.” You kiss the tip of her clit and once again engulf it. 

“Uuughhh!!” She lets out, as you suck up and down on her engorged clit. “Baby it’s too much.”

“She’s calling me Shuri.” 

“Umphhh Fuuuck!” She says as you continue sucking her. You rub your face in it. Getting your face full of her juices. You felt Shuri tensing underneath you. Holding her breath. 

“Breathe, baby. Deep breaths.” She tried following your instructions, and you felt the exact moment the pleasure took over body.

Her heels painfully dug into your shoulders, egging you on. 

“Damnit! Y/n!” She yelled, as she let out huffs of breath. Breathing through the intense pleasure. 

“Tell me you like it baby.” Your fingers reentered her sweet pussy as you ate her like your final meal.

“FUUUUUCCCCK! I love it. You drive t-this pussy crazy! Uuhhhnnn Bast! Get up! I gotta pee! I-I’m gonna e-explode!” You dive in fucking her harder sucking her faster. “Y/n, MOOVVVEE!” Her body writhed violently on top of the table anything that had been on top of it now long gone. 

“EH!” A high pitched scream left her mouth as her body almost levitated into a seated position. Her eyes and mouth wide. She grabbed the back of your neck pressing you up into her pussy, as her hips began to thrust hard against your face. You felt a gush of liquid hit the back of your throat. Unattatching yourself from her you began to cough, only to go back in and suck some more of her. Letting Shuri cover your face in her essence. She slid from the table. Both of you falling to the floor. She landed on all fours. Pussy still hovering over top of your face. You lift up kissing it. 

“Stop! Stop, stop.” She said shivering. She lowered her body between your legs laying on top of your chest, and you let out a hiss. She looked up seeing small holes left by her heels on your shoulders. 

“Did I do that!? I’m so sorry babe.” You laugh. 

“Trust me baby, I enjoyed it.” She leaned forward kissing, licking and sucking your sex injuries as you carressed the small of her back moaning from the feel of her mouth on you. 

A wrapped gift caught the corner of your eye amidst all of the broken dishes and fruit on the floor. “Oh. I almost forgot!” Shuri hummed as she continued to tend to your wounds. You reach over grabbing the box. Tapping her back, signaling her to get up. She looks down at the box as she sits all the way up straddling your waist.

“What’s this?”

“Open it. You’ll see.” You giggle as she rolls her eyes. She removes the ribbon and wrapping paper. Opening the box to two diamond Catier bracelets. 

“Apology diamonds” you say. “ They’re engraved.”She picked them up looking inside. 

One read ‘For better’ the other read ‘For worse’. 

Shuri looked looked into your eyes tears brimming. You smile.

“Forever baby.”

[princeoxca]

my gift for @thesupremequeen in the @namurigiftexchange. I hope you like it!

extra (poor namor lmao):

[amphibiahawks321]

AMPHIBIAHAWKES321 MAKE MORE SHURI X MALE READER FICS AND MY LIFE,IS YOURS.

[Shuri and Ramonda walking to her lab while talking to each other]

Ramonda : You will go to the initiation ceremony young lady....

Shuri : Young–Young lady!? I am a full blown teenager now!

Ramonda : you're not acting like a responsible one...

Shuri : I am plenty responsible! I heard the king himself is gonna show up to that initation why is my presence so needed?

Ramonda : Because you are part of the royal family and it's going to be a special event...

[Ramonda and shuri stop at the entry of the lab]

Shuri : trust me I would really really love to go it's just that I'm... Uh...–I'm Very very busy right now! Yes! And it is a project that's very important!

Ramonda : ......

[Ramonda opens up the door and sees Y/N using a half build high tech candy vending machine that shots out the candy and flies itself to his mouth]

M!Reader : Oh this is delicious!–.....

[Y/N stares to the side and stares at Ramonda and Shuri awkwardly]

M!Reader : .....

Ramonda : building a vending machine with your boyfriend is what you called important....

Shuri : .....

Shuri : Okay but have you tried the candies–

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 ⌇ marvel ladies headcanons

summary. marvel ladies and their favourite kind of kisses to receive from you ♡

includes. yelena / wanda / maria / peggy / natasha / shuri / kate note. a very late valentines special. sfw since tumblr hates me and my mature works. (literally every single one of them have gotten flagged this isn't funny anymore) regardless, i hope you all enjoy these adorably fluffy headcanons

masterlist / AO3

──── ♥ YELENA

forehead kisses. when yelena was younger, she hated getting teased for her height. but somehow, it’s okay when it comes to you. maybe it’s because you can wrap your arms around her so easily and engulf her in your warmth, and your joy, and the life behind everything you do. or maybe it’s just the forehead kisses. you’re always gentle with yelena, loving her not in spite of her flaws but because of them, and maybe that’s why you’re so tender when you hold the sides of her face and press a kiss on her forehead. her shoulders relax, and she sighs softly, tucking her head underneath your chin, and all you can do is capture every moment in a frame of time. it’s moment like these that make yelena fall in love with you even more, when your lips are against her forehead and mumbling words that make her melt into a puddle of romances.

──── ♥ WANDA

angel kisses. it’s a sweet name for an even sweeter kiss. angel kisses are placed on the closed eyelids, and it’s something wanda really fancies, something you do all the time. the world can get so loud and unbearable – but when you wrap wanda up in your arms and place kisses on her closed eyes, she stops trembling and it becomes a little more okay. wanda’s been through so much, and the fact in itself that you’re one of the few who’ve bothered to stand by her side all the way means so much. it means more when her eyes are closed and your lips are right there, always there for her. that sweetness is comparable to an angel, so maybe that’s where it got its name.

──── ♥ MARIA

cheek kisses. for such a skilled agent, it’s surprising how you take maria by surprise every time you kiss her on the cheek. maybe that’s an emblem of how she lets down her walls around you, whether she liked it or not — you love maria, undeniably so, and though it took her far longer, she does love you too. a striking example of this is the small smile she allows to slip beyond the cold demeanour, whenever you so casually walk up to her and distractedly press a fleeting kiss on the side of her face. if it was anyone else, maria would’ve probably had them knocked out in seconds flat, but you’re not them, and your lips on her cheek are far sweeter. it’s the way you do it so absent-mindedly, too, like it’s a part of your daily routine and pepppering kisses on maria’s cheeks are a simple way of life. cute, and soft, and mushy, like those rom-com films maria hates, but she’d watch them all day, if it meant your lips would meet her cheeks once again.

──── ♥ PEGGY

back-of-hand kisses. peggy, who is so headstrong and rarely shows her tender side, unexpectedly loves back-of-hand kisses. it’s just the way you brush your lips against her skin, over the callouses and the blemishes, cherishing her as if she ever deserved that delicacy. "i absolutely adore you, my love," you would mumble, pressing your lips against her knuckles gingerly just before she leaves for work. she would bite back a smile, feeling her insides turn into mush. she thinks she can handle another day disciplining rowdy soldiers if it means she can wake another day by your side.

──── ♥ NATASHA

stomach kisses. scars and bruises and stretch marks are nothing new to natasha, and while she’d never admit she was acutely insecure of them, it does bother her to an extent that she avoids looking at her stomach in the mirror. it’s stupid, honestly, because natasha is a world-class assassin, and she’d rather look dead in the eyes of a bleeding man than her own stomach, but then you came along and flipped her world upside down. the first night you trail kisses along her stomach, lips fluttering over every scar and bruise, natasha almost cries. she's never felt so loved. you don’t say anything, and she’s grateful for your silence, but you press a few extra kisses on the bullet wounds and the beautiful stretch marks. it’s so loving and tender, that you even bother to kiss her stomach that delicately, and natasha thinks she doesn’t deserve you but you’d always tell her otherwise.

──── ♥ SHURI

neck kisses. shuri absolutely loves the sensation of neck kisses. shuri could be up in her lab, so focused on her current project, but all that fades away when you wrap your arms around her from behind, and pull her into a soft kiss on the neck. she sighs softly, then leans back into your grasp, tilting her head up to meet your eyes lovingly. you give her a lopsided, lovesick smile, still not saying anything. you just duck down to press another kiss on the narrow column of her neck, hands encircling her waist as she lets her eyes flutter shut. it's all shuri ever needed, but when your kisses start lingering a little too long and your hands start wandering a little too far, she isn't complaining, either.

──── ♥ KATE

spiderman kisses. the name is quite funny, since the two of you do know peter parker, but then again there's no other way to explain it. kate somehow always ends up on the floor, be it after a night of slumber, or playing with lucky, or watching tv. you find it so endearing, and you can't help when stand over her and peck her lips. your chins brush against each others' noses, and kate lets out a breathy laugh. both of you are smiling into the kiss, and the butterflies in kate's stomach flutter. it's so goofy, but it encaptures your relationship in the most perfect way imaginable ─ there's no need to take it too seriously, because both of you are just going with the flow. whatever happens, both of you will always be there for each other, with spiderman kisses or not.

taglist: @simp4wanda26 @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @matchasrad @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @gay4lizzie @jemilyswhor3 wanna be added to the taglist to see more works like this? leave an ask in my inbox! if by any chance you want to be removed from the taglist, also leave an ask in my inbox.

man i loved writing this, got me in the feels. happy late valentines, everyone.

masterlist / AO3

[literaryavenger]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

SERIES (3+ parts)

Broken - finished

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Bonus Part

TWO-PART SHOTS

I love you and I hate it

Part 1 | Part 2

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy

Part 1 | Part 2

Sargeant Grumpy

Part 1 | Part 2

ONE-SHOTS

On Thin Ice - Figure Skating AU - requested

Mornings Like This - requested

Love Is A Battlefield

New Year's Eve

Back To You - alternative ending

Happy Birthday

Birthday Kiss - 40s Bucky

Can I Be Him?

Not So Bad

Sputnik - requested

Obsessed

Stargazing

You Were My Sunshine

Until My Last Breath

DRABBLES

You're Still My Sunshine

Bucky Eating

[pinkwright]

if u rlly wanna kiss me | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — bestfriend!shuri x bar singer!y/n

trope — best friends 2 lovers

inspo — ride the dragon by fka twigs

warnings — shuri’s touchy, dom!shuri, fingering (r!receiving), light choking but also not rlly choking, reader is easily embarrassed (a lil projecting yk), they’re best friends, shuri is a lil mean n condescending, verbal kink (?), humiliation kink (again projection my apologies), slight love kink lol, dirty talk but its sweet imo, n i think that’s it.

a/n — completely forgot about taglists but u can send me an ask to be on it ! for now i'm just tagging the inspos n some of my fav accs <3

⟢˚ @rxcently @saintwrld @shurismainbxtch @playgurlxoxo @verachii @dejaonline @mbakuetshurisprincess @ppawmpkin

ஜ

if you really wanna kiss me, kiss me quickly (do it quickly, do it, do it, do it quickly, do it, do it)

“thank you everyone”, you laugh. your voice rings through the area as the claps ring out, cheers echoing through your favourite bar to perform at. a cheeky smile is spreading across your cheeks and your heart is pumping with adrenaline.

your heart races as you make your way down the stairs, looking into the dark eyes of your best friend as she holds her hand out for you to grasp. “brilliant,” she firmly pulls you close. “as always, s’thandwa.” murmuring the words against the shell of your ear.

the blood rushes to your face, shielded by the depths of the tones of your skin as you flash her a quick shy smile and clear your throat, muttering her thanks under your breath. you let her walk you to your dressing room, exchanging greetings with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, as you take to trying to ignore shuri’s warm firm press on the skin of your lower back.

the soft neo-soul track dampens with the soft click of your dressing room door, and you go to gather your belongings, you stop to reapply your lip gloss and lock eyes with shuri in the mirror. she’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed across her torso, and you find she’s watching you like a cat does her prey.

“you’re so devastatingly gifted, you know that?” she sings in that low alluring voice of hers. the beating of your heart rings in your ears as her words settle into a tight ball in the depths of your stomach. you can hear yourself giggle nervously as you avert your eyes, muttering out a weak, “stop”, as you put your lip gloss and the last of your stuff in your bag.

shuri laughs softly with a smirk on her pretty lips, pushing off the door as you approach her, “you never could take a compliment.” the roll of your eyes prompts her to laugh louder as she opens the door for you to make your way to her car. the ignition rumbles into a start then she's reversing into the route to your apartment.

she hums softly, embarrassingly, to your own track and you take the opportunity to admire her. shuri’s and your relationship was hard to describe; while traditionally you were best friends – the pet names, the touches, and the way she spoke to you, not to mention the constant tension, all said something completely different. the logical part of you defined it as shuri’s interest in you but the sensing side of yourself denied that idea vehemently – there was just no way the queen of wakanda, the black panther, and quite frankly, the light of your life was in love with you.

“y/n, baby, you good?”

you snap out of your thoughts and find that you’re parked outside of your building. shuri’s dark eyes are intense as they roam over your seated figure and you smile softly, definitely not into you, “yeah, are you coming up tonight?” you blink at the insinuation in your words. opening the door to jump out and keeping it slightly ajar to hear her hum of agreement.

before you can get pulled into your thoughts, your loft apartment door is closing and you're throwing yourself on your couch with a deep sigh. shuri places herself right next to you, her hand sliding over your thigh as she guides your leg over hers. your foot falls between her man-spread legs and she essentially draws you right against her, inadvertently spreading your legs as your head lulls to rest in the dip of her neck. she sighs as she mindlessly traces patterns on your heated skin, and you try, desperately, to tame the fire growing under your skin.

the silence is filled with a tension you can feel with every expanse of your lungs, every beat of your heart, and every pump of blood through your veins but also carries that familiar comfort and calm that comes with being around shuri. her hand switches from brushing along your inner calf to the muscles of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as you subconsciously drop your legs open that much more – just enough for her to notice, surely. her hand pauses and you freeze at the chuckle that leaves her lips, moving into her form, as if you could disappear into her if you pressed close enough.

“something you want to say to me, y/n?”

your head draws further into her neck as you stammer out her name, your ribs feeling like cages to the heat overflowing within you, “i think you know.” your voice shakes as you hear her let out a click of disapproval.

“i can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.” her voice has the condescending lure of a siren disparaging her victim. you whimper, she's being so mean. slowly, you bring yourself to straddle her and drop your gaze to her lips to avoid that look in her eyes, “you’re acting dumb on purpose.” you whine out in utter humiliation.

her hands grip your waist to still your gyrating hips, pressing you into her lap, “i need to hear you say it, angel. can you do that for me?” her lips are brushing your cheekbone, and she's squeezing your skin.

your lips part, wanting to hear more, and feel more, “shuri, please… please i need you.” you're breathless. the words spill out as desperate gasps of air and you're embarassed by how wet that makes you. you felt like you couldn't breathe, the heated atmosphere deliciously suffocating.

you feel her smirk spread as her hands slip down your thighs and play with the hem of your skirt, she hums as one hand makes its way to exactly where you need her. the other wrapping around your neck to bring your gaze to hers, she hates when your eyes aren’t on hers. you exhale a stuttered breath as you look into the intensity of them, she looks like she wants to ruin you. your pussy clenches as your hips buck, every breath shared between the both of you fuelling the pool between your legs.

those slender fingers slip into your panties and immediately slide over your clit, and you're moaning out. shuri's bringing your lips right against her own, not kissing you, just holding you there — breathing air into and stealing the air from your lungs, simultaneously giving you life, and taking it away from you.

“that’s it, my pretty fucking baby, let me feel you.”

her voice is coaxing you towards the ocean of your release and guiding you to rock your hips in time with her fingers. you’re whimpering, pleading with her to give you more, and more – you want everything she has to give. she chuckles, that condescending lilt humiliating you but simultaneously adding to the tightening in your core, she slips a finger into your entrance and you’re crying out into the swell of her lips, “please, please, please… shuri”.

“tell me you love me, s'thandwa, and i'll take you there.”

she starts to circle the swell of your clit with the pad of her thumb, your eyes momentarily shut, and all you can see, hear, and breathe is her. the exchange of breath, the coo of her voice, and suddenly you're insatiable — you need her. if you were more coherent you would have heard the mirrored desperation laced in her tone, like she needed to hear that to continue living, needed you to fuel her existence.

the warmth from the humiliation of feeling so exposed pushes you further, as she gives you a second finger and presses right against your spot. your hips are stuttering as you wetly gasp out her name. “i know, i know angel, that’s my spot, isn’t it? right there hm? that’s where you need me?”

your form twitches at her words, your pussy clenching around her fingers, drawing her deeper into you, wanting her home, “i love you; i love you so much, please shuri, please.” you’re crying out. your hand is gripping the arm working your dripping pussy, your hips canting to the pretty melody of her thrusts, and her eyes are boring into yours as you beg her to bring you over. her grip around your throat tightens slightly, her thumb brushing up and down the tendon, as she curls her fingers to brush your spot, her spot, and you’re stilling.

“ndiphilele s'thandwa sam' (come for me, my love).”

then you’re sobbing out your orgasm, your body is shaking violently, feeling shuri’s sharp intake of breath against your lips as she works and talks you through it. you’re panting into her mouth, tears collecting on the lashes of your shut eyes as you try to breathe through the aftershocks. you feel shuri’s praises rather than hear them, her hands caressing the bare expanse of your ribs, “there you go. breathe for me, nkosazana, come back to me.”

when you come to, shuri’s gazing at you so deeply that you’re forced to slightly pull back and look down at her lips again, “you haven’t kissed me”, you whisper. you roll your lips in embarrassment when she just tilts her head and smirks. “stop," you drag the syllable out, "i literally told you i love you while i was coming on your fingers, nigga. and you still haven’t kissed me.” you whine as you slightly push her shoulder.

“i love you, y/n. ungumoya endiphefumelayo, ungulukhanyo lwam' (you are the air that I breathe, you are [the giver of] my sight). the sole bearer of my soul," she pauses. her hand rises to gently grip yours, and bring it to rest on the beating of her heart, "and look at me. i need you to know that above all of that, uluvuko wam', sthandwa (you are [the cause of] my resurrection, love).”

she looks at you seriously, unrelentingly, wanting her words to sink into the crevices of your skin to carve themselves within your psyche, and your eyes instantly fill with tears as you whisper her name with a tremble.

a squeeze of your waist and she’s leaning in as you shakily exhale and, in a moment, her lips are on yours, moving in synchronicity, melting over yours like the sun into the horizon. shuri’s kissing you like she wants to breathe you in, trapping you in place so you have no choice but to take and take everything she’s giving you.

she loves you.

do it quickly ‘fore the end of the song, waiting a minute for your love.

ஜ

[haechvn]

Too Intense

Pairing: Shuri Udaku x F!Reader

Warning: Y'all gone hate me cause Shuri rude asf. You have been warned. I'm actually tryna hurt yall feelins. Angst.

Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary/Request: Toxic!Shuri. That's it.

Author’s Note: I wrote this a while ago but I wasn't too sure about it. I tweaked it a bit and now i'm in love. Lmk if yall wanna be on my taglist. Love yall

Taglist: @blkgworlamplified @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @theblacksuccubus

The cold, sterile smell of the hospital was almost too familiar by now, a stark reminder of the pain and confusion that had become a constant in your life. Shuri had been rough with you during a training session. Her strength, normally a reassuring presence, had become uncomfortably overbearing, and you found yourself sidelined in the hospital for a few nights on many different occasions. The bruises and aches were secondary to the emotional turmoil of being so close to her yet so far away.

When you were finally released, the confrontation you dreaded sought you out. Shuri had locked herself in her room, unable—or rather unwilling—to face you. Her absence was a silent scream of regret and discomfort, and you could feel the coldness of her avoidance cutting through the air. Her usual self-assured demeanor had cracked, revealing a vulnerability she refused to acknowledge.

Her newfound lack of empathy was one of the hardest things to endure. Shuri often acted as if her own hardships were so monumental that nothing could compare. It became a habit for her to dismiss your struggles with an almost casual cruelty. “Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom every day. Where’s mine? Oh, right. I’m done listening,” she would say, brushing off your pain with a shrug. It was as if your problems were trivial compared to the grand scale of her own trials.

This lack of empathy extended to how she handled your relationship, particularly when it came to her interactions with RiRi. Shuri was constantly talking about how beautiful RiRi was, her voice dripping with deliberate poison, meant to provoke jealousy and rage. Despite her attempts to downplay it, her actions spoke volumes. The tension built until it reached a breaking point. One night, the emotional strain pushed you too far and you lashed out at her with every fiber of your being. It was a desperate act of frustration and pain, the culmination of feeling constantly belittled and manipulated.

Shuri looked you dead in the eyes after that you spoke out against her behavior, her gaze cold and unwavering. “You aren’t more important than my work or anyone else in my life,” she said with an icy calm tone. “If you can’t handle that, then you should just leave me alone. Spend the money I give you and keep quiet.” The words cut deep, and the gesture that followed—a transfer of two million dollars to your account—was a bitter reminder of her ability to detach from you emotionally while trying to compensate with financial means. The way she used money as a substitute for emotional connection only deepened the rift between the two of you. Her financial generosity was supposed to be a balm for the wounds she inflicted, but it only served as a stark reminder of how transactional your relationship had become. The many millions of dollars she has transferred to you over the years were a testament to her belief that money could mend what her words and actions had shattered.

Her refusal to even be intimate with you became a weapon she wielded with precision. One morning, you had simply greeted the Dora Milaje with a soft “hi,” and Shuri’s reaction was swift and harsh. “I didn’t like the way you spoke to them,” she declared, her tone final. “No sex tonight. Matter fact, don't touch me for a week.” The punishment felt petty and unjust, a way for her to reassert her control and punish you for perceived slights.

The physical and emotional barriers she built were sometimes more painful than the wounds from training sessions. Her constant criticism, whether it was about your strength or my interactions with others, was a manifestation of her own insecurities. She projected her frustrations onto you, making every exchange feel like a test of endurance rather than a moment of genuine connection.

The dynamic between you often felt like a constant struggle for validation. Shuri’s embarrassment over your perceived lack of strength was another cruel twist in the relationship. “Tighten up, what is the hell is the matter with you,” she’d scold, her impatience palpable. It was as if your struggles were a reflection of her own inadequacies and oh did she despised seeing you falter.

Shuri’s refusal to acknowledge her role in your issues, combined with her tendency to gaslight and dismiss every feeling you expressed, left you reeling. Her actions, from the callous remarks about any family issues to the cruel mind games she played with RiRi, spoke of someone who was deeply conflicted but unwilling to confront her own shortcomings.

Each time you thought you'd find a moment of understanding or solace in one another, Shuri would retreat back into her fortress of self-righteousness and emotional detachment. It was as if she viewed the relationship as a battleground, where the stakes were high and the only victory was maintaining control. Any attempts to address these issues were met with her trademark dismissal or cold logic.

In moments of clarity, you could see the cracks in her armor—the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability and the rare admissions of her own struggles. Yet, these moments were always fleeting, quickly buried under layers of her self-imposed duty and mental barricades. It was a dance between pain and disillusion, where love was twisted into a weapon rather than a source of comfort.

As you navigated the choppy waters of your relationship, it became clear that Shuri was trapped in her own cycle of paranoia and denial. Her inability to balance her personal and professional lives, combined with her tendency to prioritize her work over the connection you two once nurtured, created a volatile environment where genuine affection was often overshadowed by power struggles and emotional manipulation.

The realization of how deeply she was embedded in her own worldview left you grappling with your own emotions. You had to come to terms with the fact that your attempts to reach her or change the situation was no longer necessary. The love you once shared had become a thorn in your side. The high stakes were not just your feelings but your very sense of self-worth and emotional stability.

In the end, you were left to decipher the complexity of your union, trying to find a way to either bridge the gap or finally accept that this cycle of emotional manipulation and control was unsustainable. The journey was marked by moments of intense passion and deep pain, a testament to the intricate and often destructive nature of your once sacred connection. The combination of emotional distance, scheming, and outright cruelty created a relationship that was as painful as it was complex.

[baewritez]

Hello.

Before anything I am a BLACK women. Now that is clear let set some healthy boundaries.

No bullying of any kind will be allowed.

No racist comments or racial slurs.

Please be patient with me updating any bodies of work. ( I am only human and a college student.)

Yes request are open however DO NOT SPAM my dm box.

Be respectful of my writing choices.

Not following this will result in automatic blocking. Now that is clear I would like to introduce myself. Hello , my name is Bae. I am 24 years old , I hail from sunny Miami ,Florida , and I am a Leo and Cancer clasp. I write black women romance and adult fanfiction with a focus on plus size and curvy women. The request box is open and i will be updating and posting new work every Wednesday. Love you all and welcome to Baewritez.

[prettykittycastle]

Watching a “Movie”

Summary: Shuri and the reader have a fun sleepover. 

(The reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

(Content Warning: Pussy eating, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms)

It was rare that Shuri would leave her lab early and call it a night. Every now and then her and some friends of the family would decide to have a sleepover and they would spend all night doing whatever they want as long as it was only in her room and they promised that they wouldn't be too loud. Tonight was one of those nights, but instead of the usual group, it was just you and Shuri. You and her had an unspoken attraction that had been going on ever since you two were children, but never acted upon it. But something changed tonight. The usual lingering stares you two threw at each other seemed to last longer tonight than it did before. Subtle touches between you two not only lasted longer but they sparked a fire between you both that couldn't be put out. It wasn't until you two had decided to go to her room and watch a movie that you both had done something about this attraction.

You had took your usual spot beside her bed on the floor with your sleeping bag and pillow, but before you could get comfortable, she had stopped you. You had a feeling that something might happen between you two the minute she invited you to lay in her bed beside her, but you ignored it. Which is how you ended up like this: trying to keep quiet and not alarm the Dora Milaje guard outside her door, while she ate your pussy like it was the best meal ever made.

"Shuri," you gasped her name, feeling her tongue flick at your clit before giving it a quick suck. You squeezed her bedsheets between your fingers and bit your lip, hoping to keep quiet.

"Ssh, love. Let me taste you," she whispered before lapping at your pussy.

She used one hand to hold your lips open and ran her tongue up and down your center, lapping at you like a dog licking up water. She used her other hand to hold on to your thigh, keeping it from meeting the other one.

"Oh my god," you moaned loudly, closing your eyes, feeling the warm sensation inside of you quickly get hotter and hotter with each lap of Shuri's tongue.

"Ssshh," she shushed you again, pulling away from you.

You opened your eyes and looked down your body to see Shuri looking up at you with a teasing smile, her braids falling around her face and her lips shining with your juices. Just the sight of her mouth shining like that made another moan leave your mouth and you lifted your hips, trying to push your pussy back towards her mouth.

"(Y/N)," she said your name, the hand on your thigh moving up to push you back down on the bed. "You mustn't be loud, or the Dora Milaje will come in."

It took you a second to register what she said, your mind and body only focused on having her mouth back on you. "Okay, okay," you said, nodding your head.

Seeing you nod, she moved her hand back to your thigh, holding on to it tightly, while she brought her other hand to your pussy.

The teasing smile on her face grew as she lowered her head back down to you. You furrowed your brows, wondering why she smiled like that and suddenly you understood why and you quickly let go of her bedsheet and covered your mouth to hold in your moan as you felt her tongue begin circling your clit. Oh fuck, I'm finna cum, you thought, the warm sensation getting hotter from every circle of her tongue. You could feel more of your juices leaking out of you and running down to your ass onto the bed and you hoped for a second that Shuri wouldn't mind you making you such a mess on her bed when you felt the sudden pushing of her finger into your entrance, going all the way in, knuckle deep.

"Mmm," you moaned behind your hand, your pussy squeezing her finger and soaking it with more juices.

"You're close," she lifted her head and asked.

You nodded your head silently, not trusting yourself to move your hand and form an actual response.

Lowering her face back down to your center she placed her lips around your clit and sucked you, moaning into you.

The vibration of her moan almost pushed you over the edge and you lifted your hips, wanting to grind against her face, but she wouldn't let you and gave your thigh a light slap, warning you to be still, before returning it back to its previous spot, holding you.

"Ssshuri," you whispered and hissed her name, wanting to tell her that you were almost there. "Shuri, I'm almost-"

You stopped mid-sentence, your eyes almost closing as Shuri began moving her finger inside of you, curling it so the tip would hit and stroke your inner walls.

Another moan, accompanied by her sucking you and twisting her finger brought you over the edge and the warmth that had been building inside of you took hold of your body and mind.

"Aaah!" You couldn't help the cry that slipped out of your mouth as the waves of your orgasm rocked your body. What made it worse was Shuri. She didn't stop sucking on your clit as you came and she didn't remove her finger from inside you, not that she would be able to as your walls squeezed it too tightly. No matter how much your hips rose and try to move away, she wouldn't stop moaning and sucking your clit, quickly overstimulating you.

"Shuri, stop," you begged, removing your hand from your mouth and trying to push her face away, but she held onto your thigh and continued to suck.

"Oh my god," you moaned loudly again as you felt the tingling sensation of another orgasm rushing up. "Please, please."

You made the mistake of looking down and made eye-contact with Shuri as she began sucking even harder on your clit and twisted her finger inside of you again. The sight alone was enough to make you cum again and this time you couldn't hold back the scream that escaped your throat, wringing loud in the room.

"Princess," you heard the guard outside her room say from outside.

Shuri quickly pulled away from your clit and answered,"I am fine."

You laid your head back on Shuri's pillow and closed your eyes, letting your orgasm wash over you now that Shuri had stopped.

"The queen wants to speak with you."

You were just feeling the effects of the orgasm slowly begin to fade when suddenly you registered that Shuri's finger was still inside of you, and worse, she was slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"I'm a little busy right now," You heard her respond back, before you felt a second finger join hers, slightly stretching you and you let out a whimper at the feel of it.

Quickly, Shuri placed her hand over your mouth and you opened your eyes to see her face above yours, her body leaning over yours, and you quickly recognized the look of hunger in her eyes.

"The queen wants to know-"

Her fingers began thrusting in and out of you faster, your juices making it easy for her. Your already overstimulated pussy began tingling again, and you couldn't help but grab onto her shoulder silently urging her to slow down as the heat inside of you was quickly building up again.

"-why you have left the lab."

A loud, wet, squelching sound was heard in the room as her fingers fucked you faster, your juices beginning to leak more and more out of you and wet her bed further. The moans you let out behind her hand was quickly rising in volume the more she fingerfucked you. You knew this next orgasm was going to be stronger than the first two and you already felt your mind beginning to glaze over the closer to the edge you got.

"Be a good slut and cum for me again," she demanded, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Her words and her fingers fucking you pushed you over the edge and with a cry muffled by her hand, you came around her fingers, your juices soaking not only her bedsheets but her hand as well.

"Princess," the guard said again, but this time Shuri didn't answer her back, continuing to finger you through your orgasm, overstimulating you so much that small tears began to fall from your eyes and you lifted the hand on her shoulder to push her away.

There was a look of cockiness in her eyes as she leaned away from and slowly pulled her fingers out of you. When she finally removed her hand from your mouth, you were letting out little whimpers, your legs shaking from your orgasms. Looking down at you, Shuri couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face as you continued to whimper and hold a look of absolute pleasure.

She brought her soaked fingers up to her mouth and ran her tongue up and down them, then her palm, moaning at your taste. Should I fuck her again in the morning, she wondered, eyeing your pussy and the juices still leaking from you.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her doorknob being turned and she quickly threw her cover over your body, knowing you were too exhausted to do it yourself, and hurried over to the door, unlocking and opening it to see the guard looking at her with suspicion.

"Yes?"

"The queen wants to see you, Princess Shuri."

"Yes, okay. Let's go." She stepped outside her room and closed the door behind her, locking it.

"What about (Y/N)," the guard asked.

"She's tired. If she asks, let her know that I am with my mother."

~

"Mother, did you want to see me?" Shuri asked walking into the throne room to find her mother waiting on her.

When the queen heard Shuri, she turned around and looked relieved. "Yes, I noticed you left the lab early, but I hadn't heard of the girls being with you."

"No, it is only (Y/N) tonight."

"A sleepover?" The Queen asked, but her tone was different.

Shuri heard the change in her mother's tone, but chose to ignore it and nodded her head.

"Where's she now?"

"In my room. She's tired."

The queen was quiet for a second and looked at her with a look that made Shuri nervous.

"The guard said she heard noises coming from inside."

The nervousness inside Shuri quickly rose but she tried to not show it on her face. "We were watching a movie."

"A movie?" She asked, her tone and her face showing her disbelief.

Nodding her head, Shuri looked at her and tried to ignore the look on her mother's face.

"Well, make sure you two don't 'watch movies' all night long," she smirked knowingly at her daughter, making Shuri's cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Yes, mother, we won't," Shuri quickly said, turning and beginning to rush out of the throne room when she heard her mother speak again.

"And keep it down. You don't want others to hear your 'movie'."

Shuri's cheeks burned hotter at her mother's words and she hurried out of the room to see you.