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vixentheplanet · 7 months

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illicit nights | part 2

“gimme few more minutes of this feeling. for right now time don't exist.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You were born and raised in Wakanda, but you chose to leave to pursue a modeling career. You've amassed global fame as an international model, gracing runway shows, featuring in luxury campaigns, and appearing in fashion magazines. You're in the spotlight, and the entire world is watching your every move. After a very public breakup, you decide to return home to reconnect with your country and the people you love.

You didn't expect to catch the attention of your sister's best friend in your attempt to get over your heartbreak, let alone end up in a private sexual relationship with said friend. The Wakandan Queen.

word count: 9k

themes: model/famous reader, queen shuri, childhood friends, hookups

warnings: very explicit sexual relations

i forgot everything… the summary. the tags. the storyline. i actually almost put up the collage that was supposed to be for part 3

i think this was the song… IDK IDK. i was supposed to re-edit it but i don’t have time. 😩🤍 y’all know how i feel about this… so DON’T 😐😒

The breeze tickled your skin as you sat outside, waiting for the sunrise. Your body had only begun to adjust to the time shift, and you usually woke up early enough to have breakfast with your mother before she left for work. The majority of your days were spent catching up with friends, spending time with Izara when she wasn't at work, and visiting some of your favorite places in your hometown—also, Shuri.

It’s been three weeks since Aneka’s party. Since you had left Shuri’s bed with the vow never to sleep together again. The next morning, when you saw Izara, she whistled at you, "Look at Miss, I don't sleep with strangers." She was sitting at the table with a half-finished plate of food. For a second, you weren't sure what she was talking about as she fixed her gaze directly on the bite marks on your neck.

To be fair, you said that there would be no kissing. You did not mention biting, but you're paying for it now. “Oh, yeah.” You speak plainly, attempting to dismiss it as nothing significant, but you know it won't work with your sister. Shuri had spent much time with her lips attached to your neck and a few scattered on your chest. You try to push the images away before they take over your mind and become too vivid.

There’s a bowl of fruit on the counter, and you make your way over to it, examining your options. Banana. Pear. Apple.

Izara keeps pushing. “How was it? Who was it? Did you get their number?” She pressed for specifics about the previous night, and it was too early for you to come up with a sensible explanation.

Ignoring your sister, you take another look at the fruit before settling on a pear and biting into it. "You're asking too many questions, hurting my brain." You speak once you've swallowed. Izara made jokes about you moving back in, but it appears she was the one who did. Despite having her own place, she came here very frequently. You're surprised she came here so early in the morning; she was probably looking for leftovers in the fridge to help with her hangover.

“She went to the market, and you’re lying. I've seen you drunk. You didn't drink much last night." She accuses, and you sigh.

Hangover or not, it’s too early to ask all these questions. "Am I your next research subject?" You sass.

She takes the hint this time. "No, I'm only observing because this means you hooked up with them sober," Izara exclaims, clamping her hands over her mouth. "They must have said something to charm you. You should see them again.” You laughed at her suggestion. Shuri was the one in question, and it couldn't happen again because-

You groan, “That’s not the point of a one-night stand.”

"Well, I guess not, but it wouldn't matter," your sister thinks. “You’ll be leaving eventually, and if you had a good time, I don’t see the harm in having another go at it.” She says carefully before picking up her fork and continuing to eat, and that's the end of it, fortunately.

There's a good chance Izara would give you different advice if she knew who you ended up taking home from Elixir that night. Your sister's words lingered in your mind for the rest of the morning. There was no harm in you and Shuri being sexually involved, considering that you would soon leave Wakanda. It was strictly between the two of you. No one else needed to know, and you're both single consenting adults. The fact that she's your sister's best friend adds a layer of complexity, but if neither of you told her, she wouldn't know. You are not required to inform her if you do not choose to.

That's why, after taking your sister's suggestion, the promise only lasted 24 hours. The next night, you were back in Shuri's bed. You weren't shocked when Shuri accepted your proposal for a no-strings-attached relationship. The two of you hadn't been drunk enough to blame your actions on altered brain chemistry the first time you slept together. Attraction and lust fueled your acts.

Since you would see each other routinely, it was important to reiterate the three terms and conditions established on the first night.

No kissing

No intimacy

Izara (no one) can never find out

With that being said, the past three weeks were filled with friends, spending time with yourself, and lots of Shuri. It was relaxing, and you weren't planning on returning to work right away, but your IMG agency team wanted to check in with you.

You were lounging on the back patio of your childhood home, laptop open, waiting for a video chat from Gabrielle, your manager. It was after midnight in LA, but she worked for you; everything was on your schedule. Your agency was lenient with you, but you understood it was because you are vital to the industry. In only a few years, you became one of the top-earning models in the agency, in high demand. Though that meant nothing in Wakanda, it meant everything out there, and as a result, you are held to a higher standard.

Logically, you knew they weren't going to get rid of you, but your stomach was knotted with anxiety, not knowing what to anticipate. Was the press slandering you as a result of your absence? Does the demand for your campaign involvement decrease?

The laptop on the table chimes, signaling Gabrielle's call, and you immediately answer, her face filling the screen. As she sees your face, her smile broadens. Her surroundings indicate that she is in her home office. The night sky could be seen through the glass windows behind her. "There she is, my lovely lady. We miss you, you know?”

"I miss you guys too." For the most part, you worked with a good group of people. Your team ensured exposure and opportunities at every fashion house, show, and campaign. The money was the product of all the hard work that had gone into everything.

"The team and I wanted to check in and see where your head's at?" Gabrielle says as she shuffles papers off to the side.

Right now is the first time you’ve thought about returning to work since coming home. There was no definite time frame in your mind of when you would return. "I mean, I've missed being in Wakanda and am happy to be back. I know I'll have to go soon, but I'm not ready yet."

Gabrielle nods her head, taking in your words. “Okay, that’s understandable. Of course, we'll give you as much time as you need, but you should be aware that you're the most talked-about person in the world right now," She informs you with a broad grin. A twinkle in her eyes indicates she has some important news to share.

In the industry, that could be good or bad. No publicity was bad publicity, but still. "What do you mean?" you question. You figured once you decided to drop off the face of the planet, it would all quiet down, and the media would go back to focusing on something else.

She responds to your question with a question of her own. “Have you been on social media recently?”

“No, I logged out of all my accounts.” You weren’t actively posting or monitoring what was being said about you.

Keyboard sounds break the stillness before Gabrielle begins again, "Okay, the good news. They're doing fantastic. Your last post a few months ago received 7 million likes. You've had a few viral tweets, and you're always trending on Twitter. Your name on search engines has skyrocketed, and many people wonder where you are. Why haven't they seen you in public?"

Your manager turns back to focus on you. "People want to know where you are and when you’re back on the runway. The phones are ringing. We have brands worldwide competing for your participation in their shows for the upcoming season."

She continues. "This has the potential to be tremendous, a defining career moment, a historic moment in fashion history. The return of Y/N to the catwalk." Gabrielle illustrates her point by moving her hands in a sweeping motion to the side, demonstrating how massive this could be.

She looks at you, eyes still sparkling with excitement.

But you’re anything but, “I don’t know. When would this be?” you ask.

"If you were interested, next month you'd have to come out for a couple of fittings for other companies," Gabrielle reads from a document. It would be completely under the radar. We'll have everyone sign NDAs, and you'll be back in Wakanda in no time." The way she puts it indicates that she considered every issue or inquiry you may have that might convince you to say no.

"The shows wouldn't be until the season starts, but you'd get rehearsal and additional fittings closer to the shows. Think about it.” The details were nothing new to you. You've been doing it for a long time. Fashion Week preparations took a significant amount of time and effort.

You pick at your nails while biting your lower lip. "I'll think about it," you answer.

The woman on the screen looks honestly surprised at your response. You get it. The entire world is waiting for you. Major fashion corporations from all over the world are vying for your attention, but you're reluctant. You would have leaped at this offer a few months ago. Her tone of voice when she mentions your name, "Y/N," is quite defeated. “You can’t let Mya win.” It's as if she's been thinking about it for a while and finally feels like she can let it out.

The mention of your ex-girlfriend irritated you a little. "What are you talking about?" Was she attempting to persuade you to make a decision?

“I mean this in the best way possible. I understand how difficult it is, but you can't hide forever. Particularly not from a chance like this." Gabrielle explains, but her comments are still hurtful.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Don't pass it up. That's all I'm saying. You already know I want the best for you." She looks you in the eyes, yet her words sting. Were you allowing Mya to win by hiding? Was she satisfied knowing you fled due to the chain reaction your breakup caused?

This ridiculous fucking conversation. "Thank you," you say quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Gabrielle sighs, undoubtedly aware that she has upset you. She's been your manager for a while now. She is highly aware of your moods. “I’ll email you over everything, take a look and get back to me when you can. Take care of yourself.”

Your voice had escaped you. You finish the call with a polite nod.

Gabrielle assumed she was doing you a favor by presenting this ‘great’ news with her oh-so-helpful advice, but now you were filled with dread and regret. Is that what the rest of the world saw? Mya made you run? A heartbroken coward who would rather hide her face than deal with the aftermath of a poor decision to give her heart away to the wrong person. It's the first time you've cried since your split. You weren't upset over the broken romance. It was the fact that you were completely overwhelmed by the idea that Mya had won.

Here you were, at the top of your success, trying to figure out what to do next. Gabrielle wanted to make it appear as if the decision was yours. Still, how she illustrated and spoke about it being a part of fashion history made it evident that she was attempting to sway your mind into saying yes. Yet, you didn’t know if you wanted to, but you also knew in the back of your mind you’d be an idiot to pass this up.

You thought about going to Izara. Your sister was generally your go-to person in situations like these. Even though she was supportive, you knew that telling her you could be going would make her sad. Even though she still had work, you swear she spent every waking moment with you, and you would never complain about being in your sister's company.

It was reassuring to know you had time to think about it, at least because your mind was not in the ideal place to make such important decisions right now. You were in a daze all day, but your spirits lightened when you helped your mother test new recipes for her bakery. When your mother retired, she decided to run a bakery. She spent her whole life as a culinary master and was delighted to share her food with others. You grinned and joyfully took all the sweets she placed in your mouth. You were responsible for informing her if she needed to add more sugar or if the dough required additional butter; it was a tedious job.

Around 3 o’clock, you get a text.

Be here at 10.

Shuri. After typing a short response, you put your phone aside and spent the remainder of the day with your mom. The process of trying out new recipes was time-consuming, but she needed your help, and it was keeping your mind off of other stresses.

"You're distracted," Shuri accuses. Today was the fourth night you've been over this week; it's probably due to a lack of sex life in the months leading up to your breakup, but sex with Shuri is addictive. It's as if she passed a master class in your body, bringing forth noises you'd never heard yourself make. Reaching parts of your body you didn't know existed. Perhaps because there was no expectation of long-term dedication or closeness, which also played a role. Once the night's events were over, you dressed and went home, waiting for the next time you or Shuri sent a text arranging your subsequent encounter.

There was never any foreplay. This was supposed to be fast enough for both of you to get it out of your system and go before anyone became suspicious. That was mostly your mother and sister. Fewer people were in the halls at this time, and the queen's floor had restricted access. Except for Dora, no one was up here. Ayo always met you outside the palace to accompany you in and out as a precaution.

Shuri usually had you naked and trembling when you opened the door, but today, you were lazily sitting on top of her, rotating your hips. Zoned out. Her voice pulls your attention. "I'm not," you exhale, blinking and looking down.

Her hands come up to your waist, forcing you to stop. “You are,” Shuri argues.

Though it was a slow rhythm, the loss of it made you whine. “Stop arguing with me and get on with it.” You complain, brushing your hair away from your face. You should have tied it up. You'll have to redo it when you get home.

"You want me to get on with it?" she says, her brows furrowed. “You're on top of me."

The thought crosses your mind, "Can you take over?" you ask, sighing. She watches you with suspicion from her position below you. You can sense she wants to continue the subject, but there are other moments to start talking about everything bothering you.

Shuri is quiet for a minute before holding out her arms and saying, "Come here," You fall into her embrace, lying on her chest. The calm is only momentary as Shuri puts her arms around you, supporting her feet on the mattress, and thrusts up into you.

Surrendering to Shuri was a better idea than being in control. You lay in her grasp while she takes you apart, bringing you to that state of euphoria your body has grown accustomed to in recent weeks. That beautiful feeling you get after orgasm puts your mind at ease.

It's 2 a.m. when you're tugging your sweatpants over your hips. "It truly wounds my ego that you can walk away every time." In response to Shuri's vulgar joke, you roll your eyes.

"You know, I'm a model. I've walked away from worse circumstances." Rebalancing after an intense release was nothing if you could stroll down a runway in 120mm Louboutins. She's standing there, watching you get ready. She was waiting for you downstairs, where Ayo would meet and accompany you to your car.

You're about to tell Shuri you're ready to go when she asks, "Are you okay?"

Was she seriously going to bring this up once more? You lied when you said, "I'm alright," but you would be fine. The news from your manager was a lot to take in, and after reviewing the emails and all the details, it became clear how vast of an opportunity you had been given on a silver platter. Yet accepting this would mean being forced back into the spotlight without knowing if all of the previous gossip had finally died down. Even more so, being in Wakanda made you remember what taking a step back and breathing felt like. In Gabrielle's opinion, turning it down meant that your ex would win the prize, seeing you fragile and heartbroken.

There was too much to think about, and you couldn't unload it all on Shuri. This was not the type of interaction. You'd both gotten what you came for, and it was time to go.

Shuri must suspect you're not telling the truth. "You know," she begins. “We are still friends.” She's staring at you with seriousness, yet it's unsettling. You've never been close.

You tilt your head in reaction to her statement. You weren't friends; you spent time with Shuri when you were younger, but it was because you were stuck to your sister's hip. Izara adored you and would never push you away, even while you were in the company of her friends. However, once you gained independence, you rarely saw Izara's friends. “We are not friends. You’re my sister's friend.” You put more emphasis on it.

Shuri shakes her head, disagreeing. "That's not to say we're not friends, though." And there is a hint of disbelief in her tone.

"Name one thing we've done together," you challenged, your hands on your hips. Shuri's smirk and the way her eyes look across to the bed you've just finished in tell you exactly what's on her mind.

"When we were kids!" You exclaimed, a flush spreading across your face. She was irritable at times.

Shuri chuckles, amused by your reaction. “I’m trying to say that being Izara’s friend never meant I didn’t care about you.” Sharing your sentiments and emotions with anyone requires you to be attentive, clear, calm, and compassionate. All of these factors lead to genuine intimacy and trust. That didn't help bridge the distance you were attempting to build between you.

“I appreciate that, but I’m fine.” The tone of finality in your voice was enough to make Shuri drop the topic.

The emails Gabrielle sent you were overwhelming once you saw just how many brands there were. Dior offered you ten million dollars to start and end their show. Mugler, Tony Ward, Zahair Murad... You had previously worked with some of these fashion houses while you had just fantasized about others, and now your fantasies were coming true.

You'd be back on the radar of all the celebrity news and gossip websites if you resurfaced in the spotlight. Though, your split with Mya was in the past. What if people continue to link you to her? Mya Hope’s Ex-girlfriend, Y/N, reemerges from the dead after her ex forced her into hiding- oh, and she’s also headlining fashion week. Will your accomplishments become an afterthought?

Despite better judgment, you enter the actress's name into a web search. The universe intervenes just as you're about to torture yourself by pressing enter. The phone rings, and your sister's picture flashes on the screen.

Izara calls to invite you to her apartment to hang out. "I'll be me, you, and Shuri," she says. Immediately, it was odd she wanted all three of you to spend time together. You could understand if it was a group outing. But the three of you together? You haven’t done that since you were kids.

“Shuri?” you repeat.

“Yes, Shuri, it was her idea.” Naturally, it was. It seemed as though she was attempting to prove you wrong. You have no idea why Shuri suddenly became interested in your acquaintance, but it was completely unwarranted. Did she not realize Izara was too observant for her own good and could quickly detect something off between you if you suddenly became too close?

As far as she’s concerned, you and Shuri haven’t seen each other since Elixir three weeks ago. You put your laptop away, feeling even more nervous and anxious. One issue at a time.

You tried to come up with an excuse. You have been doing that a lot lately. “I don’t want to interfere. I have plenty of alone time with you-”

“No!” Izara is quick to cut you off, unwilling to hear any excuse. “How often will I have my two favorite people over?” And you give in because you would do anything to make your sister happy.

That's how you end up at Izara's on a Tuesday evening. Your anxiety was high. What if you and Shuri seemed a little too at ease around each other, and your sister noticed that something had changed between you two? The days of Shuri thinking of you as "Izara's little sister" were long gone since you began hooking up.

When you arrived, Shuri was already in the kitchen, helping your sister prepare snacks. Izara ushered you into the living room, handing you a blanket and telling you to relax.

She temporarily abandoned her duties in the kitchen to get you comfortable. “Shuri and I normally try to do this every once and a while,” Izara explains, turning on the television. “But I don’t mind you crashing. I want to spend as much as possible with you before you leave.” There’s a frown on her face at the thought. A ping of guilt hits you. You can’t imagine going from seeing someone every day since birth to barely spending time with them and being constantly miles away from you.

Your sister and Shuri shared the couch while you cuddled in the armchair alone. It was probably paranoia, but you didn’t want to give away anything that would suspect anything about the rendezvous you've gotten up to these past few weeks. You couldn’t believe Shuri had gotten the two of you into the situation. The woman in question emerges from the kitchen carrying two bowls of popcorn.

She holds the smaller one out to you, “I thought it would be easier for you.”

“How thoughtful,” you say, forcing a smile as you accept the bowl.

That was the first interaction you’ve had throughout the night. You both sat in your respective seats, enjoying the movie. It was good enough that it kept your attention. Occasionally, you would steal glances over at Shuri and find her already looking at you. Could she be more obvious?

Halfway into the movie, Izara hits pause on the remote, much to Shuri’s dismay. “Seriously, Zar, you could have stopped at a worse time.”

Izara’s moving the bowl of popcorn she and Shuri had been sharing onto the table. “I know we’re almost at the end, but I have to pee!”

“Hurry up!” Shuri calls as your sister throws the blanket off her and runs out of the room. You can’t help but laugh at the exchange.

The sound catches Shuri’s attention, and the laughter in your throat dies when you realize you two are alone. Without the movie or your sister’s presence, you can freely glare at her, crossing your arms to emphasize your mood toward her. “Can you stop glaring at me?”

“You’re the one staring at me.” you accuse.

Shuri rolls her eyes, “That’s because I can feel you glaring at me. Stop.”

“No, you did this on purpose, you know? You didn’t ask me if I wanted to be here tonight. You told Izara, knowing I couldn’t tell her no.” It wasn’t an accusation, simply a fact.

Shuri would never outright admit it. Instead, she flashed you a small grin. “This is a completely normal evening.”

You roll your eyes, “I shouldn’t be here, and you know that.”

“Y/N. Do you not realize how ridiculous this is?”

"You don't think it's strange that we're now making plans to spend time together after almost a decade?" While you and Shuri were alone, there was no one else there. You didn't have to be mindful of how you interacted with each other. As you began to spend more time together, especially around your sister, you would have to be extra conscious of what you were doing.

“No, I don’t.” Shuri protested. You wanted to throw the bowl of popcorn at her but opted for flicking her off and going back to ignoring her.

Given the lack of noise, you can follow your sister's movement back into the living room as she exits the restroom. “Okay! Press play,” Izara calls, announcing her return and Shuri’s pressing resume before she even has a chance to resettle on the couch.

In all honesty, Shuri chose a good film. Several actors were unfamiliar, leading you to believe it was an indie production. The storyline was interesting enough to hold your attention, and the plot twist was unexpected, which was a plus. Even though it was interesting, you were relieved when it was over.

"This was fun," Izara said afterward. Getting the dishes ready to bring into the kitchen. "It's been a while since I've seen you two together."

You’re helping with cleaning, folding the blankets, and arranging them neatly on the couch. When the comment gets your attention, You blink a few times, unsure what to say.

Purposely, and you know it’s on purpose. Shuri says, “We should find time to do this again,”

“Yes!” your sister agrees, looking at you. You hum in agreement because you can openly oppose the idea without alerting your sister's suspicions. You believe the discussion will stop there, with the hope of you hanging together again, but there are no firm plans, so nothing is certain.

Then Izara mentions, “Oh! We’re going to the beach on Saturday. You should come with us, Shuri.” You discussed it last weekend while out to lunch with your friend Eshe. Eshe told you about her and a few other people's plans for the upcoming weekend and agreed that the more, the merrier.

You shoot a glance at Shuri, giving her a look silently, begging her to say no, as Izara awaits her answer. Shuri looks you in the eye, “I would love to.”

Right then. You decide that she must despise you.

You and Shuri then depart Izara's after the cleaning is done. When you leave her apartment and head to your respective vehicles, she tells you both to drive safely and message her when you get home.

Shuri heads for the elevator, but you take the stairs instead. You decide to take your time and assume Shuri is already gone because the elevator is faster, but as soon as you exit the building, you see her leaning against the passenger door. Her determination is sexy, but you were annoyed. You bypassed her, going directly to the driver's side.

You managed to get into the driver's seat but couldn't close the door fast enough. “Move.”

Shuri leans inside the car, sighing hard. "Are you seriously upset with me?" Her tone is stoic.

"Are you really coming on Saturday?" You make fun of her serious style.

There is complete silence as Shuri's expression tightens. "Do you want me to come?" she finally says.

Now she needs your input on something. "Clearly, it doesn't matter what I think. You can do whatever you want." You reach for the door once more, but Shuri straightens her posture and shuts it for you.

She didn't contact you again for several days after that night. You didn't think much the first day. She was probably allowing you to calm down. The longer the week went on without so much as a "you up?" text or phone call, the more concerned you became. You realized how irrational you were by the time Saturday rolled around. Mainly because everything in your life had been unpredictable and uncertain. The one sense of consistency was Shuri, and now you don't have that.

You have no idea why you were so adamant about proving to Shuri that the two of you were not close. You had no reason to treat her as you did; the regret was tearing you up inside. You thought you wanted to put as much distance between you as possible, but now that you have it, it drives you insane.

This is why, when Saturday came along, you were excited at the possibility of seeing Shuri in person.

As you arrive at the beach, you immediately notice your sister setting up and laying out a towel. There are a few people you recognize surrounding her. Two of them are your friends, Eshe and Visola. But there was no Shuri.

You put your tote bag down on the ground and asked, "Is everyone here?" since it seems less suspicious than asking for one individual in particular.

"Shuri couldn't make it," Izara replies, spreading the patterned blanket on the sand.

She’s not coming. "Did she mention why?" you question, trying not to seem too disappointed. Was she upset with you?

Your sister shakes her head. “No. She tried to keep the phone call short, but I knew her. She can’t keep anything from me.”

Want to bet?

Izara frowns. "There's a lot of pressure on her in her duties as Queen. It's hard to make everyone happy in politics." Working with Shuri, she certainly knows more about what's going on than she can say, but it's reassuring to know she wasn't avoiding you but was merely responding to more immediate issues.

You don’t say anything else, not wanting to show too much interest. Others joined you, a mix of individuals you knew and strangers. The people you were getting to know asked you many questions about your life as a model, which you gratefully answered.

Wakanda had some of the world's finest beaches, where you could decompress with the sand between your toes and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. Your thoughts turned to Shuri. Why was she avoiding you? Was this her way of ending things? Have you overcomplicated things?

You couldn’t just outright ask forgiveness and say, “Let’s have sex,” that just seemed rude. But you needed to find a way to start a conversation.

You took a quick body selfie of yourself in the bikini and sent it to Shuri, writing, "Can't believe you're not here." That was playful enough to be true to the essence of your relationship while still acting as a check-in. If she texted you back, you could ask her why she wasn't here, hoping she'd be honest and not simply brush it off.

Shuri would reply as soon as she could; she had pressing matters to attend to. There was nothing you could do but wait, which was excruciating. Hours had passed while you swam, ate, laughed, and drank. Between it all, you couldn't help but check your phone for a single person's message. Nothing.

"You've been checking your phone all day," says Eshe as you collapse back down into your towel.

In the distance, you can see Izara building a sandcastle with some little kids who became drawn to her earlier in the day. "I have?" you say, pretending to be surprised. You knew your phone had barely left your hands today, except when you entered the water.

“Yes! Whoever that is, I hope to Bast that they respond soon." Eshe probably thought you were talking to someone. She's grinning at you, openly inviting you to divulge more details, but you're not going to do it.

“It’s not like that.” You explain leaving it at that. You felt bad, and not knowing how Shuri felt made you uneasy. This was really ironic... You felt like a dumbass.

Eshe rises to her feet, extending out a hand. "Whoever this is isn't thinking about you right now, and you shouldn't either. Give it some time." And you already know she's correct. Checking your phone was not going to speed up the response.

You reluctantly lock your phone and hand it over. Eshe grins and stuffs it inside the discarded shorts she wore over her bikini.

You squeeze every last bit of enjoyment out of the day before the sun goes down and the temperature drops. Along with the collection of selfies you took, you snapped a couple of photos of the sunset and Izara's sandcastle, which you helped find seashells to decorate it. Overall, you had a good time, and before you shower, you show your mother some of the photos you took. "Such a lovely smile. It's no surprise you choose to share it with the rest of the world." The comment warms your heart and serves as a reminder of how proud your mom is of you. She kisses you on the cheek before retiring to bed.

Shuri texts you close to midnight as if she can sense your never-ending thoughts about her.

I know it's late, but can you please come over?

After reading the text message, you feel relieved that 1. she wasn't mad with you. 2. Despite the fact that you've been a brat over the last few days, she was still interested in your arrangement.

Be there soon.

You immediately reply, changing into shorts and a hoodie, easier to take off.

The A.I. system recognizes your face, so the doors to Shuri’s living quarters open up as soon as you arrive. “You didn’t answer my text, you know. You’re lucky I don’t hold grudges-“ the joke quickly dies as you notice Shuri pacing around the room when you enter. She's dressed in her bed attire, which tells you she probably tried to get to bed but couldn’t with whatever was running through her mind.

She clearly isn't fine. "I apologize it’s so late. I've spent the entire day working on social and other issues, and-" She sighs, cutting herself off, her shoulders slouching.

"You're not going to like hearing all of this. All I need is to get my mind off of today." You've been overthinking, and the last few days have given you mental clarity.

You see, you're the problem, and maybe you've been taking it out on Shuri, who was trying to do nothing but be there for you, but you chose to push her away. This arrangement was supposed to be fun, but you've recently caused tension by acting in ways that seem intended to demonstrate to Shuri that you were not friends and that there's nothing left between you. What the hell is the matter with you?

Shuri has had a difficult day. They are to be expected, given the amount of responsibility she carries. While you wouldn't mind if she fucked you to vent her frustration, it wouldn't help her sense of peace. It would only be a temporary relief, and as soon as you left, she’d be right back inside her head stressing. That's when you decided to prioritize her pleasure. You would apologize another time.

You make your way over to her, removing your shoes. "It's alright, just breathe," you say as you take her hand in yours. You pull her into you and begin kissing her neck, creating a safe zone. Stripping her of her clothing, you guide Shuri over to her bed. "Lay back." You speak in her ear, and she complies.

You switched positions. Shuri was the one who needed your support to forget about the stress. Her legs parting instinctively, you bring your fingers between her folds to feel her, and she’s dripping. You wanted to make sure she made the most of this opportunity to focus on herself and her comfort.

A thought occurs to you. "I'd like you to take deep breaths in and out." You tell her, caressing her on the outside but not delving into where she needs you the most. You knew deep breathing was a good activity that helped stimulate tranquility and restore stability; it always came in handy before runway shows.

"I want you to say 'In' when you feel me inside of you," you finally say, sliding one finger into her wetness and feeling her clench around you. A breath of release lips passes her lips as you watch some of the tension melt away. "And when you feel me pulling away, say 'out' and take a deep breath."

You pull your finger back for a second, swiping along the ridged pleasure point and massaging her inner walls. Shuri responds with an "In," and as you retract, moving out and stroking around the outside of her entrance, she responds with an "Out."

The two of you continued with that pattern until Shuri's voice trailed off, no longer speaking as she relaxed into sheets.

"You need and deserve this. To be able to breathe and feel happy." You tell her quietly, taking pleasure in the way her face contorts in delight.

Breathy gasps escape her lips as she concentrates on the sensation of your fingers stroking around her, unconcerned about the tension of the day.

Your fingers were drenched in her juices, and the more you felt the moisture inside her, the more you wished to taste it. You get on your stomach with your head buried in between Shuri's legs. Shuri relaxed into your touch as you massaged circles into her skin, aware that the pleasure she was experiencing had enhanced her sensitivity.

Her fingers grasped the sheets, and her abs tensed in anticipation. You slid your tongue around the inner and outside folds before beginning a gentle licking with a flat tongue around the entire surface area. The moans from her lips turned you on and left you damp.

It was nice to concentrate only on Shuri's satisfaction. You appreciated the way her hips stuttered as you took her apart. As you pushed her further and further into ecstasy, she lapped up the sensations of arousal her body provided.

She was definitely close, and you couldn't wait to taste her on your tongue. Shuri soon had her hips working in little circles as she pressed into your fingers, chasing her orgasm. Moaning became increasingly audible.

You softly coaxed her inner walls with two fingers pushed inside her. "Mmm, Y/N," Shuri says as she calls your name. Her walls are spasming around you, and you know she's coming. Her breathing is labored, and you appreciate her strength because she's still careful not to squeeze her thighs around your head even though she's breaking.

You focus on her clit, sucking in tandem with your fingers, and soon she's letting out those lovely sounds, and her body jolts as you feel her release.

"Do you feel better?" you ask, happy at the satisfaction on her face.

"Yeah," Shuri confirms as she sinks lower into the bedding. Hopefully, she'll be able to sleep soon. You get out of bed and are ready to leave when she snaps her head up. "Where are you going?"

“Home.” You answer, straightening out the wrinkles in your hoodie from lying on the bed.

“Now? I figured we were going to-," She started, but you stopped her.

"I'd love to have sex with you, but I think you should rest. You're obviously overworked," you observed, frowning.

Her tone of voice shifts. “You think I’m going to let you leave my room without coming?” She's in charge now and not interested in a debate.

“I-“ The way she keeps cutting you off indicates that there isn't much you can say to convince her.

Shuri continues, “Giving you pleasure is relaxing. I like concentrating on you,” she admits. And that breaks you. How could you deny her? It’s enough to make you stop, but you don’t proceed to the bed, waiting for her next command.

"Take off your hoodie." She gave the order. You take the ends of the hoodie and pull it over your head. “Shorts,” Her instructions are brief but effective. You're not standing there in your bra and underwear, waiting for her next command, which never comes. Shuri simply lifts her eyebrows, and her look conveys all. She need not speak a word to command your submission. She already holds it.

You reach around to release the bra clasp, allowing the fabric to fall to the floor. Shuri is biting her lower lip as she watches you take your time slipping your panties down your legs.

You climb back onto the bed, this time with your exposed body straddling Shuri's waist. You're in the same situation you were in a few days ago, but this time no other issues are distracting you. Shuri had you under her control.

“Are you happy?” Shuri seems absolutely ravenous, eyes burning with hunger. She can't get enough of you undressed, no matter how many times she's seen you. Her desire for you never dies.

"That's not where I want you," she says, biting her lower lip again. Shuri's voice is low, silky, and seductive, and you can feel yourself getting aroused at the sound of it.

“Where do you want me?” you breathe. You were unprepared for what she said next.

She points to her face, “Up here.” Shuri chuckles at the expression on your face. Completely surprised she was requesting such a thing.

You purse your lips, contemplating her request, “Shuri, that’s-“

Her hand grabs your ass, squeezing. "Don't make me tell you again. I hate repeating myself.” The hand on your backside is a warning. Knowing what would happen if she had to tell you again, you're nearly tempted to disobey.

Carefully, you climb up her body until her head is between your thighs, supporting your weight on the knees. In anticipation, you hover above her face, fingers gripping the headboard. "Mm, it's been four days, and she really misses me."

In this position, Shuri had complete access to your sensual zone and the most important spots to stimulate. She drags her mouth across your clit, as if sampling before diving in. Stretching her neck up to take the sensitive bud into her mouth and sucking, you can feel the flat of her tongue licking side to side in unison.

"S-Shuri," you gasp, already stuttering. You had to be careful not to put all your weight on her face, no matter how much you wanted to get lost in the feelings. You were intent on not harming her in the back of your mind. Both the pleasure of Shuri's actions and the effort of maintaining your balance cause a burning sensation in your core and a trembling in your thighs.

Shuri's tattooed hand reaches out from your waist and rubs across your skin. You whimper at the separation of her lips from you. "Stop thinking and ride my face," Shuri murmurs quietly beneath you. Her words make your pussy clench.

You readjust your position slightly. "I don't want to hurt you." You've had plenty of sexual interactions, but this was the first time you'd been asked to ride someone's face.

As teeth penetrate into the flesh, you feel a stinging ache on your right thigh. The ache lasts for a split second before transforming into pleasure that has you gasping. "Did you really just bite me?"

"If you did what I asked, I'd be doing something else with my mouth. Can you be a good girl?" Shuri's words are breathed directly into your heat as if she's speaking to it.

"I love watching your pussy react to my words." Although you can't see her face, you can hear her smirk in her words. Cocky. It was difficult to loosen up even when your muscles were begging for you to do so. Even if you want to, you are afraid of hurting her; there was no place for argument in the face of such a dominating tone. Shuri grabs your waist with a punishing hold and lowers you to sit on her face.

The sensation of feeling her beneath you is exhilarating. Her tongue moves slowly around your clit, igniting your pleasure in small sparks that will gradually consume your body.

Shuri's hands on your hips encourage you to rock back gently against her face. You submit. Considering Shuri's strength, you know that if you wind up injuring her, she'll quickly remove you. You rest one hand on the wall for support, slightly moving your hips as if testing. You were attempting to appreciate it, knowing that it was making you feel good as part of Shuri's relaxation. You kept rocking as she flicked her tongue on your clit, your knuckles paling as you grasped the headboard tighter.

Shuri is massaging reassuring circles into your thigh, letting you know relaxing and enjoying yourself is okay. Shuri was no longer licking into you with her tongue, allowing you complete control of your pleasure, and the fact that she was letting you use her made you increasingly wet. "Fuck," you exhaled, moving your hips and grinding against her lips.

Shuri effortlessly lifts you up to take a breath. “You’re doing so good, baby girl.” The name sends shivers up your spine. When Shuri lets you back on her face, she keeps her tongue still, allowing you to grind against it. You're thankful for this experience; it was so unique you can't imagine never feeling like this again. Hips snapping straight up and down, you find a rhythm and lose yourself.

"Shuri, I-I-" you cut yourself off with a gasp, and your mouth opens wide. The delicate, breathy sounds you used to make have vanished, replaced by loud, high-pitched moans.

Sensing you’re close, Shuri cups your breast, rubbing the sensitive bud between her fingers. The additional sensation causes your lips to falter. One of your hands lets go of the bed, clutching the wrist connected to the fingers holding your chest.

Your free hand grips the headboard, adjusting the pressure and pace. When you come, it’s with a scream of Shuri’s name you’re sure anyone on the floor could hear. Your brain whites out as your body curls in on itself. You try to move away from Shuri's face, but her grip keeps you there as she refocuses her attention on the fluids released during your climax. Her tongue laps hungrily across your pussy.

It was most undoubtedly the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. You're not even aware that tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Shuri! Fuck! Please, Shuri!" You cried, your voice rising in octaves as your stomach tightened. You will never be able to compete with Shuri's strength. She won't let you go until she's satisfied, at which point you collapse against the wall, exhausted. Your legs continue to twitch, and your body is oversensitive, yet you move lower till you're on her chest.

Shuri swiped two of her fingers inside of you as she watched you pant and struggle to come down. Your breath hitched, and your legs shook a little more. Coated in your come, Shuri brought them to her lips. She needed more, as if she wasn’t already covered in you. You lowered your gaze. Her face glistened, and you brought your mouth to her chin, sucking at the flesh and using your tongue to clean yourself off her. “Such a nasty girl.” you just moan in response, moving to the other side of her face.

You slide off her body and onto the empty side of the bed next to her. Closing your eyes. “Someone’s sleepy,” Shuri's tone is teasing.

Your eyelids are fluttering open, “How are you not tired?”

“Stamina, it’s a gift from Bast.” She moves closer to you, and the next time you open your eyes, she looks down at you.

Taking in your tiredness Shuri informs you, “You know you can stay, right? I don't kick you out or anything. You leave as soon as we're through." That is true. Shuri will never ask you to leave. You take the initiative since there was never any reason for you to stay. But your body is against the idea of standing up right now. You can't get up, so Shuri must have gotten her wish.

Instead of responding vocally, you wrap your sweaty body deeper under the covers. She should really change these.

Shuri speaks up again when she notices this. "Thank you for stopping by. I know you're upset with me."

This time you mumble, “I’m not mad at you.” Face shoved into the pillow.

“Really? Because you slammed the car door in my face the last time I saw you."

You turn to face her, and your eyes are half-closed. "Your pillow talk is awful."

There's a moment between you, and Shuri's expression is filled with uncertainty. She is hesitant to express her feelings. You're trying to appear interested, fighting against your body's exhaustion. Maybe this talk should have happened before you had sex. “Whatever is on your mind. Say it,” you encourage instead of shutting her out.

She takes another minute before saying, "I don't want you to think that all I want from you is sex. You're not some random person, Y/N. I've known you practically my entire life, so come to me if you have a problem."

“That’s why I told Zar to invite you to the movie night.” She explains. “I just don’t want you to think I see you as a body where you can’t tell me when you’re feeling down. It makes me feel shitty.”

You’re apologetic. “ I'm sorry. I didn't notice." You had no idea how Shuri was feeling. It must be difficult as well. She could not view you like a warm body and renounce her caring attitude toward you.

Since she was so honest, you told her what you failed to do many nights ago. "I received a call from my manager," you explain. "I have opportunities flying into my lap, and of course, I'm living my dream as the most in-demand model in the world right now, but I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing for the first time in my life, and it stresses me out." The words flow freely off your lips, spilling out everything you've been feeling, and it feels really good. You understand how stressful it was to hold all that in and be burdened with so much anxiety and despair.

You sigh, adding, "And the only normalcy I have is sleeping with my sister's best friend." Saying it out loud puts into perspective the reason for your actions these past few days. Subconsciously, you were concerned that spending too much time with Shuri and opening up about your feelings might jeopardize what you had—realizing now how natural it is to talk to each other without awkward silences or pauses between. You may not have actively pursued a strong friendship, but you care about her well-being as much as she does about yours.

Shuri groans next to you, “Don’t say it like that.”

“It’s true,” you mumble, sinking deeper into the comfort of Shuri’s sheets. They smelled like her and sex, but mostly like her. Your body settled into relaxation post-orgasm, and you felt yourself getting sleepy again, eyes hazy.

“Whatever decision you make, you have people who care for and fully support you.” Shuri’s words are comforting and true.

You smile, eyes closing again. “And I know I said we’re not friends, but you’ve always been in my life,” you admit.

To summarize. “You’re you, and I’m me, and we’re just us.” The smile on Shuri’s face tells you she’s content with that.

“Wake me up in like an hour,” your body no longer has the strength to fight off sleep. You turn around and finally shut your eyes.

When you reopen your eyes, you're surprised by your surroundings. This room is way too large to be your own, and there's a lot of sunlight streaming in through the windows. You sit up, aware that you are still in the Citadel. Shuri isn't next to you, but you can hear noises coming from the bathroom and assume she's getting ready for the day. You adapt to the light by blinking a few times, feeling clear-headed and revitalized.

Who says you can't solve your troubles with amazing sex and a good night's sleep? You stand up and begin your usual practice of playing hide and seek with your clothes. Shuri has returned to the room by the time you're dressed, and her eyes widen as she sees you awake.

You playfully narrow your gaze on her. "I said one hour," you complain, but your words have no bite.

Shuri defends herself by raising her palms. "In my defense, I fell asleep."

You grab your car keys as you smile at her surrendering. "I think I should go." You've definitely overstayed your welcome.

"I'll have Griot direct Ayo to keep the hallway to the rear entrance clear for the next ten minutes." She is already planning your getaway, and you can’t help the laugh that manages to escape you.

“What’s so funny?” Shuri inquires, her expression questioning.

“You are using the Dora Milaje to distract people so you can get your sneaky link out of the palace undetected.” You chastise, mockingly shaking your head.

Shuri laughs and tilts her head. “You have such a colorful way of describing things.”

Before you leave, Shuri asks, “Are we good?”

"We're fine," you say.

Shuri smiles and nods.

As you walk away, your cheeks begin to hurt from smiling so much.

168 notes · View notes

vixentheplanet · 10 months

Text

not like the movies

“if it’s not like the movies, that’s how it should be.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

summary

"It's a crazy idea you were made perfectly, you'll see. just like the movies, that's how it will be. cinematic and dramatic. with the perfect ending."

Absolutely flawless in every way-as a daughter, a student, and a girlfriend. You live life guided by the choices your parents made and the fear of disappointment.

Up until she showed up, everything changed.

The Wakandan Princess arrives on the MIT campus as a new transfer student, and Shuri's presence throws all of your plans off course. For in your life, you make your own choice, love.

word count: 12k (i added more)

themes: perfectionist reader, university students, falling in love, arranged relationships/marriage, shuri noticed the little things and that’s everything

warning: sex, smoking, drinking, controlling parents

dedicated to my lyric @inmyheadimobsessed. this is her fic i just wrote it

hi ✨- i woke up with one mission and that was to write the part that i added at the end so i spent all day writing for the first time in forever… it was nice. anyways the response when i first posted this was overwhelming 🥺 i hope you all have/find fairytale love 💜 AND I ADDED MORE this was the beginning of part two i reworked.

happy speak now taylor’s version to all who celebrate she took track 21 out the vault for me but folklore has me in a chokehold rn

"No, not that one."

Shuri looks to the MIT junior who is showing her around, blinking to recover focus. “What?” Shuri inquires, her face confused.

Riri follows Shuri's gaze to the girl who caused her to come to a halt in the middle of the courtyard where the club fair was held. "I can see you staring. There are plenty of girls on campus, but not her." Riri repeats herself.

The Wakandan didn't understand the reaction. Was she someone Shuri should avoid? “Is she mean or something?”

"No, she's a friend of mine. Sweet girl. I'll introduce you, but she has a boyfriend, and they're getting engaged soon." Riri states it simply. Deeply committed and getting ready to marry.

Shuri suppressed her disappointment at the news. “Who said I was interested?” Shuri replies, trying to play off her first emotion to seeing arguably the most stunning woman she'd ever seen. A face like that was one worth remembering.

Riri gives her friend the side eye, sucking her teeth in response to Shuri's denial. “You stopped in the middle of the walkway,” Riri notes, pulling Shuri out of the way of a small group trying to bypass the pair. "And keep your bottom lip closed. You're drooling." Riri cracks a joke, tapping Shuri on the chin. Shuri frowns, yet her heart flutters at the prospect of speaking with the one who took her breath away.

The club fair, one of MIT's most significant events, required you to show your face as president of the SGA. In designing programs, services, and policy decisions, the Student Government Association represented students' perspectives. The governing body distributes finances to authorized clubs and organizations and is responsible for defending the student body's rights. It was a lot of responsibility, but you'd spent your entire life overcoming obstacles to get to the top.

You were sitting at a table decorated in university colors, with a spread of pens, stickers, pamphlets, and lollipops, among other things, to draw attention. Numerous people had stopped by, and the email sign-up list was already two pages long. Maybe it was the way you smiled or the sound of your voice that pulled people to you, but connecting with others was in your nature. It's no surprise that you were well-known among your peers and instructors.

You're finishing up a talk with a woman and her son, a first-year student, when you notice something out of the corner of your eye. Riri Williams. Meeting Riri was an unforeseen relationship; you needed assistance with vector calculus, and she came through. You respect your friendship with Riri; she wasn’t like those who clung to you for popularity and relevance. She was genuine, and it was also refreshing to have one aspect of your life that your parents didn't dominate. You were, nevertheless, perplexed by her appearance. Riri spent much of her free time in the lab experimenting and working on personal work. She told you as much when you tried to recruit her into the SGA when you were both freshmen a few years back. You smile as you wave the mother and son away before scolding, "Riri, get away from my table," swatting the hand and reaching for one of the lollipops. "You had two years to join and-"

"Relax, ma. I'm not here to bother you. I'm not really interested in these little club events." Riri motions to the person who has followed her. "All I'm doing is showing Shuri around." You notice the Wakandan royal standing close to your friend.

The level of awe is overwhelming. The Kingdom of Wakanda is a technologically advanced kingdom famed for its abundant resources of the material vibranium. You were aware of the royalty, including the Princess, Shuri's remarkable brilliant inventions. Thus her presence before you was unexpected.

“This is Y/N. University’s student government president, top student, presidents list, deans list-” Riri continues to itemize your successes, and you abruptly cut her off, unclear of her intentions.

There were a lot of public figures and famous children at MIT. Even so, you were taken aback to discover the young Princess traveled all the way from Wakanda to Cambridge, Massachusetts. She probably tried to fit in with the rest of the students by dressing like them in a faded Outkast tee shirt and light jeans, but her natural beauty stood out too much. Shuri's hair was arranged in tight coils, her enticing features the way her lips were full, a smile formed on her face flashing a flawless row of straight teeth.

When Shuri's eyes contact yours, your cheeks flush with warmth, and the air around you feels suffocating despite the fact that you're in the midst of the courtyard, with the breeze swinging the trees. "Just, Y/N," you find the words to say. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Udaku." You reach out your hand.

Riri frowns, "All this formal shit, just call her Shuri."

Having become accustomed to Riri's boldness, neither of you cares to take offense or give her any regard. Shuri clasps her hands in yours and shakes them firmly. “Yes, you can call me Shuri.”

Formal greeting exchanged, you can’t help but ask, "Wow, what drew you to MIT? Wakanda, I'm sure, has significantly superior educational institutions."

"I wanted to study overseas, and MIT provides great mechanical, scientific, and engineering creative programs. Riri is also quite convincing." Shuri chuckled.

You look over at Riri and say, "I bet she is," She sticks out her tongue as you realize she's stolen candy from the table.

"That's fantastic, and I'm sure the entire university is thrilled to have you here. I am the President of The Student Government Association, as Riri stated. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any issues." You take up the light green pen you've been carrying, scribble down your cell phone number, and offer it to Shuri.

Ignoring the way your skin prickles as your fingers brush against it. Shuri carefully places the piece of paper with precise nine digits written in green in her pocket. Riri speaks again, "We're probably going to hang out at my apartment this weekend. Are you coming?"

You hesitate for a moment, considering everything you need to do. Today was Tuesday, which was your day in the library, so you'd have to make up for lost time over the week. You also had a date with your boyfriend this weekend. You wouldn't be able to. "I can't. I need to catch up on work and attend Travis' parents' gala this weekend."

Riri's eyes roll at the mention of his name. "The only person I know that has planned out every little detail of their entire life."

"Be quiet."

Overhearing the exchange, someone would think Riri was kidding or exaggerating, but she wasn't. Since your birth, the urge to satisfy your own wants has been overwhelmed by the dread of disappointing your parents. Besides, it could be worse. They wanted you to be influential, to shine amongst others. They had a say in everything: schooling, personal life, and romantic relationships... Everything was all right. "It means no time to lose contemplating decisions when you can take action," your mother always stated.

"Whatever his name is, where is he?" Riri mumbled, her tone unpleasant. After learning more about your life, Riri immediately criticized your parents' and Travis' actions.

You and Travis have been dating since your junior year of high school. It wasn't a typical boy meets girl or meet-cute from a romance story. His parents had come home for dinner one day, which is how you met. You were forced to spend time together, left alone at various gatherings, and finally, as your parents intended, you got together. You've been together ever since.

His parents were wealthy and owned a multimillion-dollar software company, Gateway Software, with your father serving as a US senator and your mother as a lawyer. Their two bright stars were a match made in heaven. It's no surprise that you and Travis ended up at MIT together, with you studying computer engineering and him studying politics.

You narrow your eyes at her. She knew his name. You just said it. “You know his name. Travis, Riri, how are you going to act once we're engaged?"

Marriage was the ultimate goal for you and Travis. Your mother had informed you since senior year of high school that we would be your husband. Both of your parents were heavily involved in your relationship. Travis' parents believe that a couple should be engaged between twelve and eighteen months. Your mother reminded you it’s every girl's dream to marry her high school sweetheart. You may be married soon after graduation if he proposes now. Getting engaged during your junior year of university was the ideal timing, and there is a good chance the proposal would happen soon.

You weren’t unhappy. Your parents like him, your mom picked him, and that’s all that mattered.

Shuri clears her throat to renounce her presence, breaking up the mini arguments between you and Riri. “Sorry. Riri, we have that seminar in fifteen minutes.”

Riri’s eyebrows furrowed before straightening them out, “Uh, yeah. We’ll see you later, Y/N. Text me when you’re free.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Shuri,” you tell her.

“You as well,” Shuri replied, and you waved them off, going back to your activities for the day.

The next time you encounter Shuri, she’s entering the library with who you’re sure is a member of the Dora Milaje entering, following a few feet behind her. Her gaze scans the room before settling on you. You were sitting alone, Tuesdays are your least busy days, and you usually spend hours in the library getting comfy with water and a candy bag, balance. It was your day to catch up on work or prepare for any future assignments, and because most people understood this, they were less likely to bother you. You admit you overextend yourself, but taking a breather is good.

From how she scanned the room, it’s evident she was observing the area, and you motioned her over. Shuri's face brightens when she approaches you, pleased to see a familiar face, and you can't help but smile at her radiance. You feel bad for not checking in on her, but this week has been crazy with the Honor Society elections and a gala with Travis and his parents.

Shuri turns to the woman, who is not so subtly following her; they exchange a few words before the woman turns away, and Shuri comes over to you. "Hey, Shuri!"

"Hi, Y/N," she softened her smile.

You ask, "How are you liking things at MIT?" quickly, anticipating that she may walk away. It's been two weeks since you had your initial interaction with Riri. You're sure the Princess has taken a few classes and explored some of the campus's offerings.

Shuri pushes the backpack she's carrying onto her shoulder. "It's great, but I just have two-morning lessons today. I'm at a loss for what to do with the rest of my day. I went to look at some of the sites on campus and ended up here,” she explains.

You're glad she came here by chance. Your initial meeting was brief, and you were both carried up in the wave of academia. You needed to figure out when you'd have time to devote to the new transfer. "I'm happy to see you. I apologize for not being more helpful."

Shuri, on the other hand, disagrees. "Please, no. Don't be worried; I'm sure you're busier than I am. Everything has been fine. Riri has been excellent, as have the Dean and other instructors. I'm doing good."

That made you happy to know she was settling in well. Without question, the school would go out of its way to make the most important person on campus feel welcome.

"That's amazing," you say, your voice drifting off as you consider your next words. Why were your thoughts slipping away from you? You then decide to share some of the snacks you brought with Shuri. “Oh, dum-dum?” You're watching Shuri's surprise, thinking she's being insulted, then noticing the candy in your hand.

The expression on her face makes you laugh so hard that the least appealing sound in the world escapes your mouth. You snort and hastily cover your mouth with your hands, your eyes wide in disbelief that you made such an obnoxious noise. The loudness of your amusement draws a few glances, and you mumble a modest apology. This time, it's Shuri's turn to laugh, and she does it quietly, aware of her surroundings.

"It's a lollipop," you explain as you pull the red package from your bookbag for Shuri to examine. In response to her admission that she is at a loss for the rest of the day, you make a suggestion. "On Tuesdays, you are welcome to join me. It is usually my study day. I'll be here all day. It's just me and my sweets." There was a random assortment of chocolate, lollipops, snack-size Skittles, and M&Ms.

Shuri raised an eyebrow at you, taking a seat. "That's a lot of candy," she observes, staring at your bag.

"People are wandering around here with nothing but Adderall and caffeine in their systems," you draw it closer to you. "I'm fine."

Coffee, beloved by all, was disgusting to you, and you discovered sugar a good substitute in your refusal to drink it. You remember being a kid, and your mother wouldn't even allow you to look at candy. She wasn't here right now. "If you're concerned, my dentist says I have exceptional teeth and brush and floss twice daily."

"It'll make it easier for me to sleep at night." Shuri jokes. The spherical bracelet on Shuri’s wrist rings, and she gives you an apologetic pout. "I must go, but seeing you again was great."

“You too,” you respond, disappointed eyes watching her stand. As quickly as she appeared, she was gone, rejoined by the person from earlier. You were left wanting more time with her, wanting to talk to her and discover more about her.

The opportunity will present itself the following week. You're sitting at an empty table in the corner, transferring your digital notes to paper. Rewriting them helped memorization. The sound of the chair pulling out draws your attention, and your pulse quickens as you see Shuri in front of you. "Well, hi," you said as you removed the lollipop from your mouth.

You notice her slipping into the open seat across from you. “Sorry, did I disturb you? You looked concentrated.”

You immediately shake your head. Her company could never be a disruption. “No, no. I was so absorbed that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Shuri drops her bag down onto the chair next to hers and starts taking out various notebooks and a laptop. “What are you working on?” She wondered.

"Discrete Structures." The woman says, nodding. You liked the subject; discrete mathematics analyzes mathematical structures that are "discrete" rather than "continuous." It entailed a lot of work with integers, graphs, and logical assertions. "I use this pen since it's my favorite subject," you explain, holding out the pen you were now writing with, the colorful handwriting inked into the page.

Shuri reads through your notes; she is, of course, already versed with the material. She's probably taking courses that are way beyond your level of expertise. "Can I guess, computer engineering major?"

You exchange a look and a smile, both knowing she is correct. “Yes, how did you know?”

"The notions of discrete mathematics are directly applicable to computing concepts, easy guess." Her brilliance was admirable.

You blink at her, how she could take a simple answer and use it to learn more about you. "I believe," you say, pulling out the bag of candies you bought with you. "You should be rewarded for that." Shuri laughs at your childlike demeanor but nonetheless selects a mini bag of Skittles.

You get the same feelings the first few times you had Shuri near and alone as you did the first time you saw her. Butterflies and increased blood flow to the face. You figure it's because who wouldn't be nervous in the presence of one of the world's most brilliant minds? Your mind tries to justify that it was because Shuri was the royal of the world's most powerful nation. It was expected to feel nervous, fearful of doing or saying anything stupid that would make you look like a complete fool.

As the uncertainty fades, talking to Shuri becomes increasingly simpler. Her personality was the perfect blend of courteous, engaging, and dynamic—she was full of energy, and her mind was incredibly inventive. You were fascinated by her weekly research reports, and you soaked up all the information she presented to you. Her voice became your favorite sound, and you'd often get distracted while listening to her speak, but you'd never tell her. Shuri would probably become aware of how long she had been talking to you, and a world without her voice was not one you wished to inhabit.

Physical barriers were also being erased. You'd always sat across from each other, respectful of each other's personal space. Until one day, she goes from across the table to sit with you one day after you have a stressful day, your head is killing you, and you're very sure you've neglected essential nutrition. In the middle of the library, with your head on the table, Shuri’s there, one hand scrolling through her tablet. The other massaged your forehead and the base of your skull softly, relieving the pressure in your head. "You need to look after yourself," she says. I was well aware of the chaos that was your academic and personal routine. You mutter a quick response, immersed in the sensation of letting yourself be tended to.

Shuri no longer sat across from you after that day, instead choosing to remain beside you, bringing the two of you closer together. You could smell cardamom and iris close to her, warm and smokey. Soothing.

Outside the library, the three of you form a trio in that Riri and Shuri are usually together, and when you see Riri, you see Shuri. You're not bothered by it at all. It allows you to spend more time together. Every week you spent together, you discovered new aspects of her that you had overlooked the day before. The way in which she laughed. Her smirking expression. The amazing discoveries she brought with her every time. The intensity with which she stared at you when you spoke. The way she looked after you on bad days. How her fingers brushed on your skin.

You could have avoided it if you had spotted it sooner. You could have prevented yourself from falling. Cupid had shot his golden arrow, aimed squarely into your heart while you were only looking at Shuri, and he didn't miss.

You're in Riri's apartment on a Friday night. A few recognized faces are regulars at Riri's kickback sessions. Tonight was a rare time you could attend. Riri typically held them on Saturday, but you really wanted to come, and tomorrow was a definite no. Your parents were having a catered dinner at the estate for a few of your relatives who had flown in. Both you and Travis' families would be in attendance, and your mother had already chosen a dress. You could appear oblivious and pretend you didn't know what was going to happen tomorrow, but you knew in the back of your mind that everything would change.

To avoid raising suspicions about your whereabouts tonight, you told Travis you were going to a paint and sip before falling asleep as soon as you returned to your dorm. Unfortunately, you were a lightweight. You've never developed the tolerance to hold your alcohol, let alone the weed. Another thing you would only do if you were in Riri's presence and trusted her to watch after you. You were already gone.

You simply wanted one more night of normalcy with your friends before Travis took over your life. Juggling finishing your degree and wedding planning, if you’d even be allowed to do that.

You're lying on the floor with your head propped up on a pillow, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. “Are you alive over there?” Riri asked, and you nodded. “Alright, because I don’t need Senator John trying to come after me.”

Others were getting started, but you were done for the night. You weren't paying attention to their discussion. Adding something would take thinking; you didn't want to do that right now. Until—

“Aye, Shuri, how’d it go with Stacey?” Stacey was someone you were acquainted with. You’d met a few times in a setting like this. She was always pleasant, but you had no idea Shuri was involved with her. Apparently, everyone else did.

You tilt your head to see Shuri, moving a bit too quickly for your current state since the room begins to spin, but everything stops when you find the one you've been looking for. Shuri’s seated on the couch, a joint between her lips before she hands it back to Danielle. Once the smoke clears, it's simply her, with her flawless skin and defined features. Getting consumed by her, you almost forget the conversation at hand. Almost.

"Did you do it?" Joshua rises up and begins thrusting against the air, and your face turns disgusted. Everyone else seems to think it’s the funniest thing in the world breaking out in a joined laughter that has your ears ringing.

Shuri's gaze is drawn to yours. You had no idea she was seeing someone. Does she not trust in you enough to tell you? Travis came up during your times together, not often, but she knew you were in a relationship, and you’d thought you were close enough. Shuri breaks contact first, turning to the guy who made the vulgar actions. “Cut it out,” Shuri laughs awkwardly. That doesn't sound like the one you're used to when it's just the two of you.

Riri chimes in, “That means she did.”

Upon hearing that, more people are begging for details. Having to listen to Shuri sit here and describe the night she had with Stacey makes you feel sick to your stomach. "Yes, you've got to tell us something because her ass is-"

You start speaking before you notice your slurred and loose words. "I believe that what you do in your private life should be kept private." Hoping to put an end to this discussion. You felt a fire in your chest at the thought of Shuri with anybody else; the feeling was absurd, and you had no idea why it hurt so much.

Someone sucks their teeth in response to your objection. “Of course, Y/N doesn’t like talking about sex.”

"That's because she's never done anything memorable. I mean, you've known Travis since high school, right?" The attention has turned from Shuri to you, and you're not sure which is worse—having so many comments flung at you, being the target of so many remarks.

Someone then says it. "Aren’t you getting engaged soon?" As the months passed, the thing that had been towering over you turned from exciting to terrifying. You could never tell anyone about the flaw in your rose-colored glasses. If you didn’t acknowledge it, it would go away.

“I don’t disclose my private affairs. Yes, I've known Travis since high school, and we're getting married. I don't see what the issue is." Your voice slightly rises. You weren't normally this defensive. You were used to the taunting and jokes. But you were happy with your life, so nothing could bother you. It was the path ahead. It was-

When Danielle opens her mouth, the crowd becomes silent, allowing everyone to hear her. "All I'm saying is going the rest of your life without an orgasm is crazy," she snarks.

Your intellect is too drunk to reply, but your blood is racing. Something snaps within you. In your altered state, you're on your feet and out the door as quickly as possible, wanting to be away from this debate anywhere but here.

You can hear Riri yelling at Danielle, "Watch how you talk to her," a few people call after you hoping you'll return. You wouldn't do it.

You are filled with various emotions, including hurt, hatred, and envy. You've heard a lot of jokes and comments about your sex, or lack thereof. You're used to people thinking you and Travis getting engaged was hasty, despite the fact that you've been together since high school.

For the remainder of your life, you're going to be his wife. He'll be your husband, and your life will be exactly as your parents planned all those years ago—an ideal partnership with assets and reciprocal benefits on both sides.

Your feet led you to the park across the street; you weren't familiar with the area, but you and Riri went there. A fountain was in the center, and you stood on the flat seating area, wandering about in a circle. That's why life felt like a never-ending circle of frustration. A series of instructions to leap and jump. Nothing belonged to you. You did not choose your school, your activities, ballet, piano, violin, debate, soccer... Your parents have meticulously planned your life.

You could hear someone approaching you with a call to your name amid your panic. "Riri, leave me alone-"

It was Shuri. “How did you know I was here?”

“I left after you. You move fast when you’re intoxicated.” She chased you. You tried not to let your pulse rate increase as a result of your emotions. The butterflies in your stomach that usually flew when the Princess was nearby, ready to take flight. "I think you should get down," Shuri suggests, possibly worried about you falling into the fountain.

"No," you groan, reminded of the cause for all of this—stupid Stacey. "Why didn't you tell me you went out with Stacey?" you demand. Shuri is surprised by your search for conflict and your willingness to be so straightforward.

Her face twisted in confusion. “It’s not that important,” she defends.

You freeze, standing still in front of her, looking down on her from your elevated vantage point. "We're friends and meant to tell each other stuff. You told everyone else except me," you complain.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing that talking to you would be futile while you were like this. "I hooked up with Stacey and will see her again tomorrow. Is this what you're looking for?" Her tone reflects her irritation.

Tomorrow. She would be with Stacey tomorrow, and you would receive a ring with the promise of forever. "It appears that tomorrow will be a big day for everyone," you remarked as you resumed your laps around the fountain.

"What are you talking about—come on, Y/N, get down."

You're standing on the fountain's edge, and Shuri stares at you with intense, focused eyes. "No, you don't get it. He's going to propose tomorrow." You watch as Shuri's jaw clenches.

"Mrs. Travis Moore," you mumble in the dark of night, the taste in your mouth bitter. "They think he's going to be the future president of the United States, fucking moron can't even get to his classes on time," you try to lighten the weight of your remarks. You laugh to keep the tears at bay.

Once the panic subsides, you recognize its significance and analyze your thoughts. The pain was for the years that were taken away from you. Your entire life has been mapped out for years without a concrete decision. Anger because the illusion was collapsing. Your gaze shifts to Shuri, the woman you'd become close to during the months of bonding over candy and your common passion for research. Jealous of those whose lips got to taste hers and those who spent their time coaxing noises from her that you would never hear. Jealous that someone would be wearing a ring on their finger to match hers, a symbol of eternity and dedication, it wouldn't be you. The odds are infinitely against it being you.

You want to hide from everything.

You jump down and start walking with no idea where you are going. “Where are you going?” Shuri shouts, jogging up beside you. “I don’t know.” Your car wasn’t here; not like you would be driving anyways. You didn’t want to go back to campus with the possibility of running into Travis and him knowing you lied.

You stopped at the entrance gate, turning around, “I don’t know. I don’t want to go back there. Just leave me here,” you tell her.

Shuri shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to leave you outside by yourself.”

“Well, I’m not leaving,” you respond stubbornly.

Shuri's expression is one you've seen before when she's stuck on a problem and begins thinking hard about what to do next. "Would you come to my place?" She asked.

Everything inside of you is screaming yes. Having a night to yourself with Shuri seems like a gift from the cosmos, granting you a small taste of happiness. You nod your head, “But I don’t want to walk to the car,” you plead. Shuri's face softened as she bowed slightly to allow you to climb on her back. You lay your head on her shoulder, inhaling the soothing aroma. Clinging to Shuri's back as she heads towards her car in the direction she chased you from.

Shuri's apartment is close to the MIT campus. The moonlight flows through the blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing Shuri's life. It was your first visit, and you spent time absorbing the small details the moon permitted. The bookshelf has reached its capacity, and books have spilled onto the floor. Photos of her family, including her late father and brother. She spoke of them often. Artwork resembled the small sketches she'd make with your colored pens—everything she treasures in one place. "Come," Shuri said quietly, for the residence was dark without the moonlight.

Shuri takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. “This is the guest bedroom. You can sleep in here.” She opens the door, and it’s a simple room with a queen-sized bed. “I’ll be back. Do you need anything? Water?”

No, you motion with your head. "I'm okay," you said, your voice low and sleepy. Shuri's steps are hesitant as she exits the room as if she's worried about leaving you alone, and you nearly beg her not to. The only chance you had to spend with her was tonight, so you made sure to take advantage of every minute of it.

You lie down on the bed and wait, and the minutes seem to drag on forever. Shuri enters the room wearing sweatpants and the Outkast tee shirt she wore the first time you met her.

“Dum-dum?” She asks, handing up a lollipop. Pineapple with coconut. It's your favorite. As you recall your early interactions, you can't help but laugh fondly—the beginning of your story.

You take it from her, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. You're not studying, but you might be able to make an exception. Shuri stands at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do, and the atmosphere takes on an uneasy tone. "What are you doing standing there?" There she was, and you really wanted to be beside her.

“You’re a little under the influence, and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

You consider your options. "You could rub my head? Please?” A self-interested request, "I'll help me fall asleep,” but you'd never get this chance again. That she does, she was opting to be here with you rather than sleeping in her own bed. When she lies down, she offers her arms and invites you to cuddle into her side. It's an excellent fit.

With Shuri so close, you can't help but be attentive, wanting to remember this beautiful moment forever. You let your imagination wander into fantasies where you're hers, and she's yours. You exist in unison. Instead of this lifetime, you're left to wonder what could have been. The silence is soothing, and you sink into Shuri's touch as her fingers strive to relieve the tension in your head. When you let go of everything, the only thing that remains is her: the way she smells, the way her hands touch your skin, and the life her words instill in you.

You are the one who breaks the stillness. “Have you ever wanted something you can’t have?” You have no idea what the question was about. To make your own choices. To be liberated from your parents. Her.

Shuri's fingers in your hair pause. "I know the feeling all too well recently," Shuri confesses.

You don’t respond, afraid you’ll say too much, but if she feels your heart beating, she doesn’t mention anything. The sound of her breathing lulls you to sleep.

You were leaving too soon in the morning, but you knew Travis or your mother would come looking for you to prepare for tonight. Shuri watches you with concern. The two of you barely spoke a few words since you’d woken up together.

"Y/N," she says, her voice strained. "You know, you don't have to do this." At long last, she was able to voice what had been going on in her head.

"Please, Shuri. I've heard it from everyone else but don't want to hear it from you." Your heart couldn't take it since you knew if she told you, you'd stay.

"I believe last night was the first time you were honest with yourself in the months I've known you." Her stare is deadly serious.

"I wasn't thinking clearly. Commitment is intimidating, but I'm alright."

"It shouldn't feel like that," Shuri says, interrupting your explanations. "You should not be afraid to spend the rest of your life with the person you care about."

"And you don't love him," she continues firmly as if that would be enough to convince you, but you were aware that you didn't love Travis. You never claimed to.

"I'm content and think I can learn to love him." This was your last argument since it was the clearest justification available. A life without Travis was an unstable situation, and you couldn't risk destroying everything if you had no plan in place.

It is still insufficient for Shuri. "You'd think after all these years of being together, you'd have learned by now."

She lets out a bitter chuckle, “You’re going to marry someone who, at the very least, doesn’t even know your favorite color. You have no idea how silly that sounds." It was an offhand comment, but it cut deep

The debate is hopeless for you. She’s prepared to counteract everything you have to say. "Can we not have this talk right now? It's finished." With Travis's future political aspirations in mind, this arrangement is more secure, guarantees financial stability for your father's campaigns, and strengthens social relations. That was the strategy. There's no possibility you'd ever intend to undo your parents' hard work.

Shuri sighs, “It’s hard to accept this when I know you deserve better.” Her words wounded you. A message alerts you that your Uber return to class awaits you outside.

You hate leaving now, knowing that your actions have affected Shuri, witnessing her friend settle for a life that isn't hers. If she only knew how difficult it is for you to depart from the security of the one love you've ever known. You're grateful she found a place in your life; otherwise, you'd never have felt this way. You reach closer and kiss her cheek, a selfish deed for your own satisfaction. “Thank you.” You whisper.

This was the conclusion of your story since you had to deny your feelings for Shuri until they faded to darkness. Hanging on to hope can only lead to heartbreak. She wasn't yours, and she never would be.

Dinner with your parents and Travis' family is similar, except that there are a few more close relatives from your respective families there. You spent the morning with your mother at the salon, your hair in a low twisted bun. "A photographer is coming tonight. I need you to be perfect." A makeup artist arrives at your house to prepare you for the night. Your mother had chosen a pale pink modest dress for this occasion weeks in advance, the tag digging into your neck.

Everyone at the table is staring at you, a knowing expression on their faces, and you can't stop the knots in your gut from twisting. The conversation is light, with everyone chatting about themselves:

"I purchased that new BMW 2023."

"Gateway Software stock jumped this week!"

"I went golfing with the Mccoys!"

They said it in a way that made it appear as though they weren't secretly attempting to outdo each other.

"Oh, Y/N," your aunt says in an attempt to catch your attention. "I was contemplating selling my Cape Cod beach home. I believe that would be an excellent area for you and Travis to settle down after you graduate."

Travis' mother expresses her displeasure, saying, "Don't you think I'll be hazardous for the children so close to water?"

Your mother is quick to interject, “Y/N will be an amazing mother. She will not let my grandchildren drown."

As if she understands what a wonderful mother looks like. As if any of the ladies in this room knew what it meant to be a mother, to care for and love their children. You remain silent and smile politely at your mother, defending your unborn children. You were confident that if you opened your mouth, you'd dry-heave. Discussions about children, homes, and marriage. A future with someone you didn't care for—a life you did not desire.

Later, when you're all gathered about continuing to exchange small conversation, holding a glass of three thousand dollar champagne you can't force yourself to drink, it happens—that moment you've been dreading.

A fork clinks against a champagne glass, capturing the room's attention. Travis smiles big, standing center stage and ready to play out the scene you’ve prepared for. "I believe we all know why we're here,” He starts, cutting his gaze to you. You’re sure those surrounding you are buying into it, the couple head over heels and ready to say ‘I do.’ “My dear Y/N, I've been the luckiest man in the world since I met you in high school. Y/N, She’s beautiful uh- smart, she… she’s beautiful and a great person.” Here he was proposing to the love of his life, with impersonal and flawed lines. He didn’t rehearse.

The man before you continues his monologue, “So, will you make me the happiest man in the world,” Travis says, setting his glass down and bending to one knee. Putting in front of you a diamond whose price tag would put a neighborhood's worth of groceries to shame. “Will you marry me?”

You knew your line was a ‘yes’ because, unlike Travis, you had practiced it. Each day until a few months ago, when uncertainty crept in, and your heart ached for more, no longer content with being without passion. Your first clench, and you close your eyes for a second to imagine being anywhere but here, too. You calm the growing panic. In the sanctuary of your imagination, you and Shuri are in her arms as she hugs you and makes you feel so cherished and loved, a sensation you've never felt before her, and the prospect of never being able to feel that way again makes you want to cry.

When you open your eyes, the vision shatters by the reality before you. This was it, and you peered down at Travis on one knee. You'd say yes, he'd slide the ring on your finger, and that was the end of it. You carry a diamond around campus. You have an enviable love story; unlike so many other girls who spend their entire lives looking for love, you found yours at an early age and made it work through all of life's challenges and hardships. A love story that most people only fantasize about. You only had to say yes, so you were astonished even by yourself when the word "No" rolled off your tongue.

A chorus of gasps sounded out over the room. His mom says, "dear god," and his dad responds, "What did she say?"

Travis is mortified and unsure about how to proceed. This improvisation was not in the script, and you couldn't move on to the next page without the answer everyone in the room had expected. "I'm sorry if you didn't hear me. I said will you marry me?”

"No," you say again. The more you looked down at him, the more anxious you became. “Travis, get up, get up!”

His father steps in, “Are you two having relationship issues? We can pay for a counselor-“

A typical response, throw money at all your problems. “No! I'm not going to marry him. I don't love him!" Further disbelief can be heard across the gathering. As Travis stands, you take a step back.

Your mother intervenes, attempting to save your relationship with Travis. The breakup of your partnership would be detrimental to her connection to his parents. "Y/N, don't be ridiculous. How can you not love him when you've known him since you were young?" she argued.

You turn your head, pointing an accusatory finger, "Because you told us to!" Your mother blinks, her eyes bulging because you have never raised your voice at her in your entire life. You had never dared to disobey her before.

You're going to marry someone who doesn't even know your favorite color. Shuri's voice resonated in your head, and you almost laughed out loud because she was correct. He doesn't know anything about you. Throughout all your years together, you almost ended up in a loveless marriage contract out of desperation to keep your parents pleased.

You return your gaze to Travis and ask, "What's my favorite color?" Curious as to what he would answer.

In the presence of all your closest relatives, the friendly guy persona he'd been striving to preserve cracks. He fixed a venomous gaze at you, his brow furrowed. "What?" he muttered.

"Can you tell me what my favorite color is?" You slowly repeat.

"Y/N. I had no idea I would have to take a pop quiz to propose," he spits.

"After all these years, you still don't know my favorite color." You must get out of here and away from him. Away from these people. Back to the place where you felt secure.

When you turn away, Travis grabs your wrist. “Is there someone else?” and the silence is deafening. The whole room is waiting for the reply.

You yank your arm out from his grasp. "I don't know," you say honestly. But the uncertainty of Shuri was incomparable to the life here before you. "But I know I'm not going to marry you."

It's like déjà vu as you rush out of the room and into your car, but you're going towards something new instead of running away from your issues. A cacophony of voices called your name, but you paid them no attention. When you finally got the keys in the ignition, it was with trembling hands, and you looked up in alarm to see your mother and Travis approaching the vehicle. Her face was filled with terror, as if she was scared you had finally found your voice. The strength to say no, the flawless plan she put out for your life, was ruined and would remain so because you would never consider marrying Travis again. You didn't care about him. You didn't want a relationship like that with someone who didn't love you, and he didn't.

It was as though your emotions led, and your head followed as you drove through local streets until you arrived at Shuri's condo. You hurried out of the car, desperate to see her. Let her know that you recognize her truthfulness and that you do deserve and seek something better. Tell her how she invaded your senses and the first time you ever felt valued was in her company.

After trying the buzzer to no avail, you break. The defeat you feel causes you to sink into the hard cement steps and cry until your whole body shakes. The tears continue to fall as you take your hair out of the awful tight bun, ruining your nicely made-up face by wiping your eyes. You're not sure how long you've been there, letting the night chill nip at your skin.

A voice called out. “Y/N?” You couldn't tell who it was until you looked up and saw Stacey holding Shuri's hand. You can't resist the frown that forms on your face as you watch her with someone else, but you know you must be quite the sight with your unkempt hair, trembling body, and smudged makeup. You feel silly now; you forgot Shuri had been out with her. You stand up fast, an excuse on your tongue, but Shuri is quick. "Y/N- Oh my," Shuri rushes to you, dropping Stacey's hand. She's by your side in an instant, fabric wrapped around your shoulder. You hadn't even noticed her remove her jacket as she wrapped you up. “Why are you here? How long have you been out here.”

"I'm sorry, Stacey, but- another time?" She offers, knowing that their night is coming to an end.

Stacey looks between you two. You can sense she's disappointed, despite her efforts to be compassionate. "I understand. Will you text me later?"

Shuri says, "Sure, definitely," ignoring the woman she intended to spend the night with and instead focusing on you. You see the girl give a final look, her expression unreadable, as she walks away, while Shuri is intent on unlocking the door and getting you inside.

Shuri leads you into the kitchen and places you on one of the stools at the center island. "How come you didn't call me?" That's the first thing she says. If your name flashed on the screen, would she have answered the phone in the middle of the date?

"I left my phone at my parent's house." You respond. Shuri grabs a paper towel and passes it to you. You accept it, dabbing your eyes and watching the white material stain with your makeup. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You mumble half-heartedly. You're sorry for bothering her, but you're relieved she's not with Stacey.

Her arms are crossed as she stands with her back to the counter, the island between you two. "I'm not interested in that," Shuri says. "What if I hadn't come home tonight? You'd be out there by yourself." She expresses her displeasure, upset by your careless behavior.

You pout. "I wasn't thinking at all. I needed to see you," you confess.

Shuri sighs as she uncrosses her arms. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You put your head in your hands as you recount the night's events, afraid you'll cry again. "You were right. Riri, you, stupid Danielle. Everyone was correct, and I was too dumb to notice."

“He proposed.” You say it directly because you both knew it would happen. That wasn’t the answer she was seeking. She was curious as to why you were here. “Travis proposed, and I refused. I left after yelling at my mother in front of both of our families. I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Your words are mixed together and coming out quickly.

Except for you.

Shuri's body shifts out of your line of sight as she approaches you. A hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away from your face. "You're not stupid," she says, her eyes sharp. “Don't say anything like that." Then her arms draw you in, and you feel at ease in her embrace. Every fall will be okay if she's there to catch you.

After a moment of holding you there in silence, Shuri speaks, still concerned about your well-being. “I’m going to get something warmer for you to change into,” Shuri says into your skin. You reluctantly allow her to pull away, and she's gone searching for clothes for you, and you're relieved at the prospect of getting this dress off.

Your gaze wanders about the kitchen, looking for something to focus on. The area is spacious, well-equipped, and thoughtfully planned—the appliances, counter, and storage requirements are all carefully arranged. The neatness of it makes you wonder if Shuri knows how to cook. There's a coffee machine on the counter, and you wince at the K-cup assortment.

That’s when you see it—a calendar. Most people would dismiss it as an uninteresting piece of paper that they forget to keep track of constantly, but Shuri's is true to her essence. She kept everything organized and arranged to keep track of the courses and projects she was working on. When you see your name on her schedule, you go over it again and again.

"Library with Y/N." is written in light green every Tuesday. You get to your feet to examine it more closely, your fingers running down the lines of Shuri's handwriting. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you go back a few months. A list of your favorite candies is on the reminders list's side.

You can't take your sight away from the paper when you hear Shuri's footsteps approaching. "Shuri," you begin, and the woman hums, answering your call of her name. “What’s my favorite color?”

Shuri responds immediately. "Green," she answers, effortlessly answering a basic question that the man requesting your hand in marriage couldn't.

In all the conversations you’ve shared, you never told her that. "How did you figure that out?"

“It’s the pen color you use to do your favorite subject. It's the first color gummy bear you reach for, and you always keep them separate. It was the color of your nails when you refused to remove the polish since it was so gorgeous even after it was chipped. It's also the color of the claw clip you sometimes use to hold your hair up." She talks and talks, presenting you with all the information she’s gathered just from observing you over your time spent together, committing every little thing about you to memory.

Her confession causes your lips to part, leaving you speechless for a split second. “You recognized all that?”

Shuri nods before proceeding. "I know you usually grab for the lollipops while reading, and once you finish a complicated question, you eat a piece of chocolate as if it were a reward." Shuri can't stop now that she's started. "I'm aware of all of this because I see you, and you're the first girl ever to steal my breath away." Her monologue does not have a script. Her statements are authentic and heartfelt.

You find you were not the first victim of Cupid's arrow, as he had struck Shuri, who had fallen in love with you before even knowing your name. Mirror hearts with identical puncture marks only beat for each other.

You return a truth of your own as compensation for her bravery. "When he proposed before I responded, I closed my eyes, and it was just you and me. How happy I am with you, the way you make me feel. To feel things I've never felt before because of you is terrifying, but the prospect of never feeling them again is even more so." Nothing could stop the fire from spreading. Shuri's sincerity was the lighter fluid to the sparks that ignited inside your body when you met her.

It all made sense as your world unraveled the second her eyes met hers. The initial encounter enchanted you, and everything following that shattered everything you thought you understood about love.

"I had no idea, Y/N- After all this time-" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, clearly overwhelmed by your confession. You know, when Riri informed me you were dating someone, it hit me hard. I tried not to like you, but the more time we spent together — do you realize how easy you made it to fall for you?"

The delicate expression on her features charms your heart. "Do you realize how effortless it was to fall for you?" you say softly. "I was afraid of the unknown, but this is what I want."

She's in your space; all you can do is lose yourself in her eyes. Everything in her heart is mirrored in her eyes when she looks at you. "Repeat it," she urges.

And you do it because you're no longer afraid. “This is what I want. I want you.” You were meant to be with her. Here and now.

Her hands come up to cup your face, fingertips brushing against the heated cheeks, and your heartbeat quickens. "Shuri," you inhale, staring up through your lashes. It feels lovely to be held. Shuri's heart races against yours; you know the sensation is equal. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, voice barely above a whisper. Shuri leans forward till your forehead is pressed together as you nod yes. Her lips are a deep, scarlet, beautiful, and inviting shade of red.

This is like a scene straight out of a movie. Only it's actually happening to you.

Against what the circumstances presented to you, the two of you had been waiting for this moment since you met. In anticipation, you’re chasing each other. Fingertips touching and lips brushing against each other’s, breathing catching as they become too close. Ignoring her request, you bend in and tenderly press your lips together in an innocent peck. When you separate, you can't stop the giddy feeling that comes over you, and you let out a short giggle.

Shuri smiles at you before leaning in this time, and there, where no one exists around you, Shuri kisses you breathlessly. Your lips move slowly and purposefully together. Neither of you makes an effort to distance yourself, making up for the lost time. All the time you've wasted wishing you could have been together. You don't know if we've been kissing for minutes or hours, but you can't stop yourself. You keep kissing Shuri, and kissing her, and kissing her.

You've never longed to be kissed so badly for so long.

You can feel her muscles tensing. "Y/N," Shuri exhales as she pulls away. She leans against your shoulder, her breathing heavy.

You pull back so you can gaze into her eyes. The shift in the atmosphere made you anxious that she was regretful about kissing you. "What's the matter?"

Shuri massaged the worry from your features using the pads of her thumb. "There is nothing wrong. I'm worried that my impulses are becoming too selfish," she reveals.

This causes a burst of energy to run through your spine. Shuri was considerate and patient with you, willing to repress her desire to ensure your comfort. You could only guess what was going through her mind. "What exactly do you want?" You'd give her everything she wanted, and you're confident that whatever was on her mind, you wanted it just as much.

Shuri gently grasps your chin and turns your head to peer into those dark-brown, hooded eyes. "Tell me," you insist, curious about what scenarios she conjured up in her imagination. “You. I want to witness you fall apart and listen to how pretty you sound when you feel good.” The intensity of your desire for her increases as you surge forward, pressing your lips together once more.

“Please,” you moan into her lips. Her fingers locate the zipper holding your dress up and slide it down. The fabric falls down your shoulders as it loosens over your body.

Shuri gently lifts you in her arms and carefully carries you down to her bedroom. The distinction between sex and making love becomes clear to you that night. Every physical act you two perform is a statement of your passion for each other.

Naked and tangled around each other, Shuri invaded all five of your senses. The taste of her kisses remained on your tongue as you waited for her to emerge from beneath the covers. The fragrance of cardamom, iris, violet, and amber is warm and smokey. The scent you’ve long associated with Shuri is now all you can smell as you toss your head from side to side on the pillow.

Shuri moves at a leisurely pace, indulging you in sensations you've not experienced before her. Clinging to the hand, Shuri has extended upwards towards you while the other hand maintains your thighs apart. Her sounds are wet and obscene as her mouth works between your folds. You're torn between running away from her and bringing yourself down on the face of her precise tongue's ability to dismantle you. Part of your mind tells you that it can't be any better than this as your breath leaves you and your body spasms.

She comes up once she's had enough of the taste of you covering her lips, leaving you sweaty and panting. After grabbing the lubricant, Shuri generously applies it to the strap. One hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling your leg up on her hip to give her a better angle. Her other hand lines the tip with your opening. "So pretty for me,” Shuri murmurs as she presses forward, entering slowly. That is just one of the numerous compliments she has given you since you began. You're overflowing with emotion as Shuri reaches deep inside of you, and the feeling is one of stretching and warmth.

"Please let me know if it's too much," She breathes as she thrusts her hips, careful not to go too hard for you.

You respond with "Okay," but you don’t care if it is because you find yourself wanting it. Shuri begins to move into you, setting a slow but beautiful pace that has you moaning, and your body shakes. The waves of pleasure have you flinging your head back, a gasp escaping your parted lips, and all the air exiting your lungs. Colors dance behind your eyelids as your fingers fist at the sheets in an attempt to grasp something. Feelings of ecstasy flood your entire body, all the way from your head to your toes. You've never experienced a physical sensation quite like this one, in which you feel utterly attached and entirely overwhelmed.

You press your eyes tight and twist the sheets harder in your hold as Shuri slowly, blissfully, moves inside you. "Open your eyes for me," she pleaded, breath coming out short.

You follow her orders, looking up at her. “You’re making me feel so good,” you find the words to tell her.

As she rotates her hips and moans, your hand grips her shoulder for support, letting the sounds of your pleasure spill out. “My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.” She mummers, watching you tremble underneath her.

A palm slides over one of your hands, Shuri tangling your fingers together as she thrusts into you. You grip her fingers tightly, relying on Shuri to keep you connected to her. “Shuri-” you choke out. She eases up, sinking her hips further into yours, wanting you to savor every sensation. Shuri holds your arms above your head with one hand and brushes your hair away from your face with the other.

"Show me how good I'm making you feel." Shuri gives the order. She kisses your lips briefly before shifting away, and you can't stop moaning, shaking in Shuri's grasp as your impending climax consumes you. You gasp as your lips open against Shuri's, and your muscles tense. Shuri continues to drive into you, extending the moment out for you.

It might be one of the best things you’ve ever felt in your life.

Throughout the night, Shuri takes excellent pleasure in extinguishing the never-ending desire in the pit of your stomach.

Perhaps being in someone's home, observing the most private elements of their existence while they slept in the next room, is intrusive. You're seated on the plush carpet, knees to the side. The night sky was aglow with the bright city lights, leaving enough lighting for you to admire the picture frames decorating the mantle closely. You found sleep easily beside Shuri, but it didn’t last long. Your thoughts jolted you awake. You slipped on your panties, and the first thing you could find, which ironically was Shuri’s shirt, quietly slipped out of the bedroom. The couch was the first place you sat down as your leg jumped with anxiety.

There were so many uncertainties that you would need to face—particularly your relationships with your parents and Travis. Your mother would undoubtedly try to salvage whatever remained of the connection with him, but nothing remained. You weren’t going back.

It’s hard not to think of the moments your parents' interference has tainted. Operating in a state of fantasy, obsessed with the thought of having everlasting love with your “high school sweetheart.” Your first kiss, first date, prom. When you look into the eyes of the man you thought you loved, you realize nothing was ever clear. Everything you'd been fed had distorted your mind into a joyful and optimistic state that failed to recognize negative events, resulting in an unrealistic vision of life. Cracks in the memories drained them from the rose color they’d been drowned in.

Your perspective on love is a product of the upbringing you had. You were growing up among what you believed were adoring marriages that turned out to be arranged pairings for selfish reasons. These families are infested with harmful ideals that have been passed down over generations. Their notion of love was longevity and control, how two individuals could generate strength in a world founded on power and greed.

You now see love as a collection of emotions and actions defined by closeness, passion, and commitment. All of which you lacked in your relationship with Travis. All of which your surrounding relationships were unable to develop. People's choices are their own, but you should never let them affect your decisions or life. You were grateful that you wouldn't have to start from a place of hurt and mistrust as you reinterpreted what love and relationships meant to you. Shuri.

Shuri, who feels as strongly about you as you do her. It's nice to have someone who makes you feel special and noticed. You are not the politician's daughter, the ideal girlfriend, or an academic scholar in her eyes. The corners of your lips twitch to be worthy enough to be valued in those magnificent, wondrous eyes. Her smiling face draws your attention to one of the bottom shelves of the bookshelf. You slide onto the floor and sit comfortably in front of the shelves. Careful fingers graze against the cool glass, preserving the original integrity of the photograph.

She is stunning. You remember the first day you met, and you never imagined you'd be here in a shirt that wasn't yours, reflecting on your choices after all these months. Everything in your being, from the cells to the elements, tells you you made the right decision choosing Shuri. When she's near, the visible flesh on your skin rises. When she speaks, your heartbeat quickens. The lips that know how hers taste. The oxygen you lose when she gets too close. You are filled with emotions; you feel so much, but the words can wait. Labeling anything could be too soon and put both of you under undue stress. The only thing that matters right now is you and Shuri.

As your anxieties subside, you look closer at the image, recognizing the late King's T'Challa and T'Chaka. Shuri frequently discusses her brother and father. She admitted to you it was hard in the beginning being avoidant of her grief, and memorializing loved ones who have passed on allows you to sustain connections—celebrating their life and sharing their love, happiness, and long-lasting memories. There's something so lovely about their smiles that shine through the photo that you can't help but move the corners of your lips.

The bedroom door swings open, and anxious footsteps enter. "Y/N," Shuri's nearly panicked calling into the darkness leaves a feeling of remorse in your stomach. You hadn't considered how waking up alone after such an intimate night together would appear to her. Your face flushes as the flashbacks run through your mind.

“My sweet girl, making those beautiful sounds for me. Taking it so well.”

Your face sinks into your hands as if the recollections of the passion you two made together will fade. When your name is called again, you realize, in your temporary anguish, that you never responded to the woman looking for you. "I'm right here," you say softly.

Shuri appears around the corner, and her distorted features relax for a few seconds before concern is written across her expression. "Sorry, I was looking at your pictures," you admit, moving your hand away from the captured scene.

"There's no need for an apology, my dear. I was just nervous when I didn’t see you,” she admits. You frowned. Who knows what would have gone through your mind if you were in Shuri's vulnerable position. Your heart wasn't the only one in danger. Shuri's investment was identical to yours.

It must have hurt her to see you depart yesterday morning, knowing you were going to come back engaged. You're curious if she's envisioned a life for the two of you and can’t imagine the pain of looking into the eyes of someone you wished to have a future with but knew it wasn't possible.

"Are you feeling okay?" Shuri questions. The air in the distance is timid, and the other woman takes her time to assess the situation before approaching. Your lips part to convince her that you're fine, but no words come out, and the room fills with a sigh.

You settle for an explanation for your absence from the mattress you were tangled in only hours before. “I couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to disturb your rest,” you say sincerely. If you stayed in bed, you'd be rustling the sheets, tossing, and turning.

"You could never disturb me," Shuri says with a slight grin.

"Even when I show up unannounced at your house and force you to end your date early?" Normally, humor relieves tension, but Shuri is unimpressed, most likely because of the indirect reference to Stacey. "It was a joke," you clarify.

Shuri squats down to look you in the eyes as she states, "It wasn't amusing, but even then. You could never bother me." Her words are simple but comforting.

Another thought occurred to you. "Did you expect me to come back?"

Shuri takes a seat next to you on the carpet, sensing you'll be here for a while. Her gaze goes to the kitchen, where you'd expressed those feelings you'd both battled to hide. “Truthfully, no. Still, I had hope." Her honesty is so heartbreaking that it makes you pause for a moment. There are so many things to wish for in this lifetime, and she decided on a wish for you. Shuri had a glimmer of hope for something that appeared hopeless.

"Did you think of us?" you wondered.

The questions continue to pour in, but Shuri is ready to respond without hesitation. “It’s impossible not to see you and let my mind wander to what it would be like if you were mine. Even when it appeared to be impossible."

Her words pierce your soul. She had been waiting for you. You have no control over falling in love. Nobody can prepare for the moment, but it's worth every risk when someone breathes fresh life into you and makes you feel alive again. Shuri's intense gaze assures you that the chance of harm is nonexistent. Your heart is safe.

You crawl over to Shuri, who’s prepared to accept you into her space. "Thank you for holding out hope for both of us," you say face to face. "I believe the universe has heard you." People talk about the romantic notion that there is someone for everyone, and Shuri is that someone for you. The bond between you and Shuri is something you have faith in.

"I'm just thankful that my dreams are becoming a reality." Shuri leans in to kiss your nose, and you can't stop the childlike giggle that escapes. "Mine, too," you say, contentment washing over you.

Silence follows as you and Shuri share a mutual gaze. You are captivated by the beautiful features of the woman. She probably thinks the same thing as you; I’m falling in love.

The longer you stare, the heavier your eyes grow. A yawn escapes you unintentionally, and Shuri chuckles. "I think you should go back to sleep." Now that the thoughts plaguing your mind from sleep dispersed in the wake of your lover coming to put them to rest, it was time for you to get back in bed.

Shuri extends her hand to yours after standing, and you accept it. As you feel the weight of her palm in yours, an overpowering feeling sweeps over you. The warmth of your love glows in the dark, the quiet of the night. You’re in disbelief that you almost gave this up, but part of you realizes fate wouldn’t have allowed the two of you to part. Shuri came into your life at the precise moment before you began serving a sentence of eternal misery. If the circumstances had their way, you weren’t supposed to be here.

Fate intervened just as you were about to surrender to the cards dealt to you. Regardless of place, time, or circumstance, two human beings linked by the red thread are destined lovers. This mystical chain may extend and tangle, but it can never break. The idea that you were both was made perfect for each other makes your chest swell.

The traffic light outside briefly flashed a red glare against the window. Shuri's hand draws your attention to her. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

“Huh?” Your eyes mirrored the depth of your heart's commitment and adoration, and you didn't even realize it.

Shuri's eyes are firmly fixed on you. “You’re tearing up, my love,” her thumbs quickly caress the fallen droplets from your cheeks.

The lack of sleep lessens the control you have over yourself. Instead of responding immediately, you collapse into Shuri's arms, and a wave of calm washes over you. You are encased in the only embrace that has ever shown you peace and security. "I'm fine, and it's only. You make me very happy.”

Lips gently press on your temple. Shuri wastes no time responding, “I'm just as happy, if not happier, because of you.” The sentiment fills you with pride. All you want is to make Shuri happy. To love her, and you can now, here, and forever.

You pick up your head to surge forward, connecting your lips, and Shuri melts into your touch. It’s still new for both of you, being able to act on emotions you’ve kept hidden, never suppressed. Even as time passes, you don’t think you’ll get used to the effects Shuri holds over you. No matter how long you live this lifetime together, you'll never stop falling for the one who had wished for your heart.

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