#shuri fluff

“So,” you began, breaking the silence and glancing at Shuri, “since this is your first Christmas with my family, let me give you a little heads-up about what to expect.”

Shuri arched an eyebrow but didn’t pull her gaze from the blinking lights. “Please. Enlighten me. I wouldn’t want to embarrass the royal family of Wakanda by mishandling your… peculiar customs.”

You smirked. “Right. Well, first, there’s Auntie Regina. We love her, the sweetest person you’ll ever meet, but…”

“But?” Shuri prompted, still not looking at you.

“But she has no concept of boundaries or personal space. She’ll embrace you like she raised you and ask you a hundred invasive questions about our sex life before dessert.”

“Wonderful,” Shuri deadpanned. “I'm looking forward to all of that.”

You grinned. “Oh, and there’s my grandmother, Big Mama. She’s… rude.”

“How rude?”

“Think of someone who’ll tell you your outfit is ugly and then say, ‘But you’re pretty anyway, baby.’ She’s old, so she gets away with it, and because none of us really wanna argue with her.”

Shuri’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as she finally turned to glance at you. “I’ll keep that in mind. What else?”

“My Uncle Ray,” you continued, “will inevitably corner you and start talking about how vibranium is the key to liberating us and leading us back to the motherland.”

Shuri turned fully to face you, her expression incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“’Fraid not. He’s big into Hotep Twitter, unfortunately.”

Shuri let out a low groan, leaning back in her seat. “Fantastic. A man who will explain my own culture to me. I cannot wait.”

“Oh don’t pout, baby. You’ll be fine. I grew up around them, and look how well I turned out!” You shot her a cheesy smile, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

“Yeah, the jury is still out on that one.”

You tossed her a warning look. “Shut up. Besides, my parents and sister are pretty normal, all things considered, but they might ask you if Wakanda celebrates Christmas.”

“We don’t,” Shuri said flatly.

“I know that. You know that. But they’ll ask. Just smile and nod. Oh, and then there’s a tradition we do every year, cookie karaoke.”

Shuri blinked. “What in Bast’s name is cookie karaoke?”

You beamed, your eyes lighting up in a way that made Shuri’s irritation dampen, though she’d never admit it. That's how she knew she was in love with you, no one else could make her tolerate such nonsense.

“We bake cookies, decorate them, and sing Christmas carols,” You explained.

Shuri tilted her head, unimpressed. “You voluntarily make yourselves look ridiculous for sugar and noise?”

“Yup! Doesn’t it sound soo fun?”

“Right…,” Shuri muttered, shaking her head.

“And let’s not forget the Family Christmas Dance-Off,” You added.

“Oh no.” Shuri mumbled.

“Every year, someone picks a random Christmas song, and we all take turns making up dances to it. Last year, my mom won with her rendition of ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.’”

Shuri’s jaw tightened as she tried—and failed—not to laugh. “And yet, somehow, Wakanda is called primitive.”

You smirked. “All of this too much for you, Princess?”

Shuri gave you a pointed look. “Not at all. I happen to thrive in chaos.”

“Good, because my sister already warned Big Mama that I’m bringing a ‘real-life princess’ to dinner, so expect a lot of questions about why you don’t have a tiara.”

Shuri sighed, closing her eyes briefly. “Why must I be punished in this way?”

You leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “Because you agreed to date me.”

“If only I knew back then what dating you would entail.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Princess. Do you want that present with your name on it to go to my nephew?”

Shuri gave you a look. “You wouldn’t dare be mean to me on Cwismas.” She mocked.

“Try me,” you shot back, just as the driver pulled into the driveway of a cheerfully lit house, where a giant inflatable Santa Claus waved from the lawn.

Shuri glanced at the display, her mouth already opening for a quip, but you cut her off. “Save it,” you warned, pinching her side playfully. “And not a word about the nativity scene on the mantle.”

“Ah yes, your beloved baby Jesus, born on Christmas Day. I suppose I should just keep all of my thoughts about Christianity and organized religion to myself too then, huh?”

“If you know what’s good for you…”

Shuri sighed, stepping out of the car and straightening her coat. “For the record,” she muttered, “I’m only doing this because I love you.”

She walked around to your side, opening your door with an exaggerated air of chivalry.

“Love you too, Princess,” you said, taking her hand as you stepped out.

Shuri thanked the driver in Xhosa before the two of you trudged through the snow and up the driveway, bags in tow. As you reached the front steps of the brightly lit house, Shuri paused, taking in the overwhelming spectacle of decorations. The lawn was a circus of inflatable reindeer, twinkling lights, and an oversized Santa that loomed ominously over it all, as if mocking her.

It was… unsettling, to say the least.

“So, is the tradition to make your home visible from space?” Shuri questioned, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m tempted to send T’Challa satellite images just to see if he can spot this… thing.” She gestured to the display.

You rolled your eyes. “Play nice, remember? And I’ll have you know, I was the one who picked Snowy out when I was three. He’s one of the few important men in my life—I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you.”

Shuri couldn’t muster a response, so she just chuckled softly, muttering something to herself in her native language.

Before you could even reach the door, it swung open, and a high-pitched voice squealed, “My baby is home! She’s home!”

The Princess took a deep breath, the frosty air grounding her as she prepared herself. This is going to be a long night.

•••

“Hi Auntie Regina! It’s good to be home, I missed you!” you called out, stepping into her warm embrace.

Shuri hung back as your family swarmed you, hugging and exclaiming over you with a fervor she could barely comprehend. But the relief of being overlooked didn’t last long.

“You must be Shuri!” Auntie Regina declared, her eyes lighting up as she set her sights on the Princess. “Ahh, I was so excited to set my eyes on you! All them pictures she sent us of you, I just knew you’d be finer in person. And I was right!”

Before Shuri could react, she was pulled into a suffocating hug. Auntie Regina kissed both her cheeks with an enthusiasm that left Shuri momentarily stunned.

“Uh… thank you, Auntie,” Shuri said, her voice slightly strained.

“And she’s polite too! You could learn a thing or two from her, Harold,” Auntie Regina called over her shoulder to a man who Shuri assumed was her husband. His unimpressed grunt made Shuri fight back a laugh.

Her eyes darted to you, silently pleading for help, and you were at her side in seconds. “Auntie, give her some space, please,” you urged gently.

The house was warm and loud, the clinking of dishes mingling with the chatter of your family. As Shuri made her way through a sea of introductions, she finally found a familiar face in your older sister Tayla. The two exchanged a hug, and Shuri sighed quietly in relief.

“Big step,” Tayla teased. “Meeting the family on Christmas. Very brave.”

Shuri chuckled. “Bravery comes naturally when you’re in love. And when you’ve faced worse threats than cookie karaoke.”

“Fair point. But I fear you might be overestimating your patience here, friend.”

Shuri’s grin faltered, and Tayla laughed hysterically. “Stick close. It’s gonna be a ride.”

Big Mama was the last to greet her, her face etched into a permanent scowl as she squinted critically at Shuri.

“You’re too skinny to be a princess, but I guess that’s what they’re doing these days. At least you’re pretty.”

“Ndiyavuya ukukwazi,” Shuri said automatically, her nerves edging her voice into her native tongue.

Big Mama’s eyes narrowed. “What you say to me, child?”

Before Shuri could explain, you stepped in, your tone calming but firm. “She said ‘nice to meet you’, Big Mama. Ndiyavuya ukukwazi means nice to meet you in Xhosa. Shuri speaks Xhosa.”

“Well, how I’m posed to know that, girl? I don’t speak no Koshi, I speak English,” Big Mama replied dismissively.

“Who’s ready to eat?!” your mother interrupted, clearly eager to diffuse the situation. “I hope you like ham, Princess. If not, we have chicken. If you don’t eat meat at all, well…”

Shuri laughed dryly, though her discomfort was plain. “Please, call me Shuri. And it’s fine, I’m more than okay with both.”

“Oh good!”

“Wouldn’t want the pig you roasted in Jesus’ name to go to waste,” Shuri muttered under her breath. She knew you’d heard her by the way your hand squeezed hers, a silent warning as you guided her to the dining table.

Dinner was an ordeal. Your father, clearly unsure of how to address her, finally worked up the nerve. “So, Shuri… What’s Christmas like in Wakanda?”

Shuri’s smile was tight. “We don’t celebrate Christmas in Wakanda,” she said politely.

“Really? No Christmas trees? No carols?”

“Unfortunately, no. No trees, no carols, no man in a red suit watching everyone like some omnipresent security drone,” Shuri replied, her tone edging toward sarcasm. “But we do have annual festivals to honor Bast. It’s a bit more… dignified.”

You kicked her lightly under the table, giving her a pointed look. Shuri shot you a smug glance in return.

“Well, that’s interesting,” your mom said quickly, attempting to smooth over the awkward moment.

Uncle Ray, however, had other plans. “What kind of uneducated question is that, brother-in-law? You should know better,” he began, turning to Shuri with an air of self-importance. “See, he lacks the intellectual capacity to understand what we already know, Princess. He don’t know we celebrating the white man’s holiday. We don’t do this at home in Wakanda.”

Shuri bit the inside of her cheek to suppress an eye roll.

“I have this podcast,” Uncle Ray continued, “where I discuss the connection between my ancestors and Wakandan royalty, and I would do anything to have you on as a guest. What do you say? Can I pick your brain?”

You sighed beside her, answering before she could. “She’s not doing your podcast, Uncle Ray.”

“I’m afraid she’s right,” Shuri added smoothly. “My schedule is regrettably full. However, I wouldn’t mind you sending me a link to your next episode. I’m beyond curious to find out how you believe vibranium metallurgy made its way into your DNA.”

The sarcasm in her voice was lost on Uncle Ray, who nodded enthusiastically. “Oh for sure, Princess! For sure!”

Shuri didn’t have time to dwell on the absurdity because you kicked her shin again. She yelped, all eyes turning to her. “So! What time is cookie karaoke?” she blurted out, and to her surprise, the table went along with the change in subject.

“Soon as I get the gingerbreads out the oven, sweet pea! Wanna make sure they're nice and hot for you Princess.” Auntie Regina called, winking at Shuri.

You rolled your eyes at the interaction, shaking your head, while Tayla smirked knowingly across the table. Shuri leaned toward you. “Is she always like this?”

“Yes,” the entire table replied in unison, and Shuri couldn’t help but laugh.

•••

Despite her initial reluctance, Shuri found herself enjoying your family’s quirky traditions more than she expected. Though she staunchly refused to sing during cookie karaoke, she threw herself into building and decorating gingerbread houses with your nephew and little cousins. Her natural knack for leadership—and engineering—soon captivated the kids.

“Building a gingerbread house is just like constructing a real one, but much tastier,” she declared, carefully aligning a graham cracker wall with royal icing. The children watched her in awe as she explained. “You need a solid foundation. That’s where physics comes in.”

“What’s physics?” your nephew asked, wide-eyed.

Shuri smiled, “Physics is science. It’s what keeps everything balanced. Without it, these gingerbread houses would collapse faster than your Uncle Ray’s podcast audience.” She muttered the last part low enough for only the kids to hear, prompting a chorus of giggles.

Across the room, she caught your eye, warmth spreading through her as you matched her smile.

The dance-off was next—and predictably chaotic. The theme song this year was Jingle Bell Rock, and Shuri, appointed DJ, cackled as your dad attempted a moonwalk. The winner, however, was your brother-in-law, whose interpretive dance moved everyone to tears. Apparently, he had been rehearsing since June, determined to tell a "story" with his moves.

Though Shuri loved every absurd second, what she cherished most was seeing your joy—your laughter, your never-fading smile. It made the chaos worthwhile. She could get used to the sight, these feelings—all of it—forever.

As the night wore on, your mom wrangled the younger kids toward bed. “Santa won’t come until you’re asleep,” she reminded them, ignoring their groans of protest. Your nephew rubbed his sleepy eyes, whining,

“But Grammyyyy!”

“Don’t ‘but Grammy’ me,” she replied, shooing them downstairs to the spare room.

You approached Shuri, your grin soft and teasing. “You ready to head up?”

She looped her arm around your waist, her gaze locked on yours. “Lead the way, Mtuwam.”

Just as the two of you began to slip away, Auntie Regina popped up beside you, her grin mischievous. “Uh oh! Mistletoe!” she sang, pointing above your heads.

You both looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway. Shuri shot you an incredulous look. “Do you people plan this?”

Before she could ramble about the parasitic nature of mistletoe, you cupped her face, smirking. “Just kiss me before Auntie Regina has an aneurysm.”

Shuri chuckled, her annoyance fading as she pulled you in for a soft, lingering kiss. When she finally released you, Auntie Regina squealed, “Merry Christmas, you two!” and engulfed you both in a rib-crushing hug before retreating to her room.

•••

Later, as you changed into your Christmas pajamas, Shuri sat on the edge of the bed, watching with an exaggerated pout.

“Can’t believe you’re teasing me like this,” she muttered. “You’re wearing those pants, and I’m supposed to behave?”

You laughed, crawling into bed beside her. “Relax.”

“Impossible,” she grumbled, though her pout melted when she noticed you eyeing the bedside clock.

“You have somewhere to be?” she asked, suspicious.

“No.” You replied. “Just waiting.”

Moments later, you leapt up. “It’s time!”

“For what?” Shuri asked, bewildered.

“For your present!”

She groaned, “Is the present in your pants?”

You rolled your eyes, tugging on her arm, “No.”

“Then tell Santa I don't want it.” She grumbled, trailing after you as you led her downstairs. The house was quiet now, bathed in the warm glow of the Christmas tree. You reached under the branches, retrieving a gold-wrapped box.

Turning to Shuri, you handed it to her with a soft smile. “Merry Christmas, Princess.”

Shuri opened the box to reveal a sleek vibranium disc engraved with a star map. Her fingers traced the constellations—familiar ones, marking the sky over Wakanda on the day she was born.

“Mtuwam…,” she whispered, her voice softer than usual. “How did you—?”

“I figured you have everything, so I wanted to give you something personal,” you said shyly. “Something that reminds you how much you mean to me.”

Shuri set the gift down carefully before leaning in, her lips brushing yours. “I adore it. I adore you, Ntomb’am. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her.

“I have a present for you, too,” Shuri announced, her tone mischievous.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it?”

“My mouth,” she quipped, grabbing your hand and tugging you upstairs.

You laughed as she backed you against the hallway wall, peppering kisses along your neck. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, I always seem to get what I want.”

•••

The next morning, the family gathered around the tree to unwrap presents. Shuri fidgeted with the small box in her pocket, nervous yet determined.

“Tt, these are from Shuri!” your nephew yelled, handing you two beautifully wrapped packages.

“Shuri…,” you said, touched.

Inside the first box was a minimalist cuff bracelet made of brushed vibranium. She watched as you ran your fingers across the letters written there, no doubt translating the words in your head with ease.

“My heart is yours too, my love.” You looked over at her.

The second box revealed a pair of delicate panther-head stud earrings, shimmering as they caught the light. “Shuri…”

“When you wear them,” Shuri explained, “they sync to your heartbeat, listening so they may always protect you.”

Overwhelmed, you crawled across the sea of wrapping paper to throw your arms around her. “I love you. I love them.”

The family erupted into “awws,” startling Shuri, who had momentarily forgotten they were there.

Then, Shuri stood, dropping to one knee. “Mtuwam,” she began, her voice steady but heartfelt. “I didn’t understand this holiday or its traditions, but being here with you has opened my eyes. You’ve made me see the beauty in things I never thought I’d appreciate. And I want to spend the rest of my life seeing the world through your eyes. Will you marry me?”

“Are you serious?”

Shuri smirked. “Deadly.”

The room went silent. Shuri opened the box to reveal a custom ring: a round violet diamond set in a sleek vibranium band. Your jaw dropped, tears spilling as you struggled to speak.

“You better say yes before I do.” Auntie Regina blurted out.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” you exclaimed, pulling her to her feet and kissing her deeply. The room exploded into cheers, Auntie Regina shouting, “Best Christmas ever!”

Shuri smirked as she watched the chaos. “As a gift to everyone,” she announced, “I’d like to invite you all to Wakanda.”

More cheers erupted, with Uncle Ray hollering, “Hell yeah! We going home, family!”

Later, curled beside Shuri on the couch, you admired the bracelet and earrings she’d given you. “A trip to Wakanda? Did you just make that up?”

She grinned. “Absolutely. But look how happy they are.”

You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. And for the first time, Shuri allowed herself to admit that she liked Christmas, all because of the joy it brought you.

themes: heiress reader, marriage, babies, reader is a nervous mommy which is okay, therapy, trauma healing, fluff, and smut.

warnings: mentions of drugs, panic attack, fear of abandonment, and sex.

dedicated to @shurislover because you’re so sweet omg 🥲🩷

hi ✨- i think that’s all of them…. illicit nights part two never going back up btw lmao i have to find the energy to rework that

The limo driver barely comes to a complete stop in front of the starry Esmé sign before you rush the door open, nearly knocking down the valet who had anticipated to be the one to open it for you. "I'm sorry!" you exclaim hurriedly without turning back. You had one thing on your mind, and you were almost there. You enter the rotating door without having to identify yourself to the police and Dora Milaje stationed outside.

Even with the heart-shaped herb's advantages, Shuri couldn't keep up with you as you strutted across the lobby. You're sure people were gazing at you with wide eyes as they recognized who you were—Hotel Heiress, Queen of Wakanda (one of them), and a new title that had you trending online all the time. Yet you were a woman on a mission, and nothing could deter you except the elevator wait time.

A frustrated grumble escapes your lips as you tap your feet impatiently on the carpet. "Fucking asshole," you mutter, continually hitting the button as if it will make the doors open faster.

—

You were so lost in contemplation that you failed to notice your wife's efforts to keep up with you. Shuri looks worriedly at you and says, "Y/N. My love, you must relax."

"I'm fine—can this elevator move any faster? I'm going to sue whoever built this elevator. Oh my-“ The elevator chimes, interrupting your tirade, and you rush into the gold cart, scanning the key card before pressing the button to move it.

A hand massages calming patterns on your bare shoulder while you're dazedly viewing the numbers on display above. "Look at me," your wife urges softly. "You have to breathe, Y/N," she says, making you aware of how tight your chest is, but you can ignore it.

The strain of the evening starts to break free with a deep sigh as you stretch your shoulders. You were back in New York on official business, which meant that you weren't interested in anything that didn't need your direct participation as Queen of Wakanda. Amaya and her boyfriend, on the other hand, had asked you and Shuri to dinner tonight.

Amaya wanted to introduce you to her new partner, but you refused. "If they're still together the next time we visit New York, we'll know it's serious and worth leaving our children." You argue, putting emphasis on the last word. Shuri was having none of it.

Your therapist and wife noted how often you needed to be reminded to maintain the equilibrium between motherhood and your identity—the importance of embracing this new aspect of your life while still having fun.

"No, this is their first time here. It's unfamiliar territory, and we've been gone for some time. God alone knows what's going through their heads. They’re probably so confused.”

First, you said no, but after a long stare-down and Shuri's insistence, you eventually agreed—though not without a few safety precautions. The infants had grown used to the safety and security of the Wakandan Palace. So, did you ask that police officers identify everyone entering and exiting the building? Yes. Did you call Marco from the bar and urge him to come to babysit the twins? Yes. Were the Dora Milaje stationed inside the penthouse, outside the elevator, and at the hotel's front door? Yes, as well. Everyone understood that it was best to take the extra step of caution, and they wouldn't dare argue with you.

Maybe you were being overprotective, but you were not taking risks with the hotel's penthouse housing the children of the Èsme Heiress and Black Panther, Queen of Wakanda. 

You remember the ultrasound during your first trimester. The doctor made the happy announcement that you were carrying twins. In your state of astonishment, you recall telling the doctor, "Two? We only asked for one.” Alternating your gaze between the screen and Shuri, whose eyes were as wide as yours.

The twins may have come as a shock, but they are the best present the universe could provide to you and your wife. The feelings of love, affection, and protectiveness were intense, to the point of being nearly overpowering. You became their mother the second you touched your babies. 

Vatusia and Vian Esmé-Udaku.

Their hazel-brown eyes looked directly at you, and as unmistakable as anything you've ever encountered in your life, they declared, ‘I'm entirely vulnerable. I need you.’ You'd never felt more important. The sheer sense of urgency caught you off guard. Yet only for a brief moment—a billionth of a second at most. You returned their gaze and signaled in every manner conceivable, ‘I've got you. I'm not going anywhere.’

"They're protected," Shuri reassured you on the way to the restaurant after everything was in place, but your body refused to ease. Even on the ride back when you knew you'd soon be holding your children again. It needed to be more. You have to see them. For them to see you and know you were still there. You hadn’t left.

You step out of the elevator, ready to sprint through the corridor to the entrance, but Shuri's unexpected grasp on your wrist stops you. For a split second, you feel betrayed, not understanding why Shuri wanted to keep you away from the twins for yet another moment or two. She opens her mouth to speak, but you immediately cut her off. "Can we talk about whatever it is inside?"

The queen shakes her head. "The twins are safe, Angel. There would have been communication if that were not the case. We're standing right outside the front entrance. However, you remain anxious. You're not being completely honest with me about how you feel."

The words of Shuri cut deep, rendering you silent. Shuri was correct. You were afraid to say it aloud, but you understood why you felt the way you did. It was ridiculous to believe you could hide anything from the woman you'd been with for ten years. You could tell each other's feelings and nonverbal signs without saying anything. When you surrender to her embrace, you take a deep breath and look up into her eyes. Those who meet yours are looking for you to say what's on your mind, and they won't stop staring until you do.

Dr. Faraji often stressed the importance of vocalizing your thoughts to your wife. The importance of when you're feeling low, lean on your partner for a bit of support. She was right. Shuri always helps bring you back in touch with reality and energizes you with words of encouragement. 

"They've never been in the penthouse before, and I'm not there. I don't want them to think I abandoned them," you whisper in the last sentence, your anxieties forcing you to bite your lower lip.

The pained expression on Shuri’s face at your confession makes your heartbreak. She’s in your space, consuming the entire area between you as a palm caresses your weary features, relaxing instantly. "Y/N," she replies firmly. "You are not your mother," she explains.

You look down, breaking eye contact. "I know. And still, I can't stop thinking about my childhood and experiences. I don't want them to feel that way even for a second." They wouldn't recall these times today since they were only a few months old, but they still had emotions and consciousness. Your memories of your younger self are vivid—a child who failed to receive constant loving or caring attention. You were unable to build close relationships when your mother abandoned you, leaving you with continuous tension and worry.

Gentle fingertips on your lower back entice you to avoid the traumatic past. "Y/N, such an assumption will only bring you down. You should be present. In current time with our beautiful family." Tender lips gently press on your cheek. "You and our children are a blessing to me. "You're an amazing mother," Shuri adds, and the sediment warms your body.

The tightness in your chest dissipates as your attention is drawn to the love of your life. "You are, too," you assure her, although you always tell each other this. Shuri adjusted to parenting faster than you did. It could be because she's constantly evolving and adapting to new conditions. Motherhood was no different; it was simply more permanent.

Above all, she was crucial for the kids and you. You felt a lot of stress and emotional drain as a mother. It's one thing to be a first-time mom, but it's quite another to be a first-time mom of two. The fear that you would forget something or make a mistake had become stronger. Your thoughts were so chaotic with all the worst things that may happen that Shuri had to make you stop and think about the good things.

Shuri was a calming presence in what can be a tumultuous and perplexing world—increasing your inner strength and being the rock on which your kids can depend.

When you were working through your abandonment issues with your therapist, Dr. Faraji questioned, "Would you ever want to experience motherhood?"

The question takes you by surprise. You pause for a moment to consider your response before speaking again. “I wouldn’t want to fuck up. One misstep and your child is wearing a dress that is just fabric. Snorting cocaine in Ibiza," the phrases are so raw and honest that you can't help but chuckle uncomfortably. The prospect of your child being anything like you is horrifying.

Regardless of how painful your statements are,  Dr. Faraji smiles. “You didn’t say no,” she notes, and you blink. You didn't say no since you hadn't considered having children, but now that she's brought it up, your primary concern is whether you'd be a decent mother. "I sense a lot of anxiety surrounding the matter, which leads to confusion, but I have to ask.  Is your marriage to your wife similar to your parents?"

The notion of comparing your parents to what you and Shuri have caused your brows to wrinkle. "God no," Your father was never able to be present during his marriage to your mother. Marriage requires effort. You were aware of this, so when the subject came up, you explained to Shuri that you wanted time to think things through first. Even though you were certain that Shuri would be at your side for the rest of your life, you still worried that some of your past trauma might seep into your relationship and cause problems down the road. Shuri encouraged you to see a therapist, and through her networks, you were able to see Dr. Faraji, a leading clinical psychologist in Wakanda. Once you came to terms with your history, you recognized you couldn't let the old you keep you from progressing.

"We're not like them at all." Shuri makes you feel intelligent, charming, gorgeous, creative, and like your best self. She helps you to flourish by highlighting and enhancing your best qualities. There are aspects of you that she understands that you simply can't put into words.

The atmosphere surrounding Shuri is warm and inviting, just as it should be with the person you hope to marry or spend the rest of your life with. You have discovered a level of safety in each other and the future. Following the wedding, you realize that the two of you are more evenly matched than ever before, and you wonder why you ever questioned otherwise.

It's not uncommon for Shuri to find you looking absentmindedly at your ring, at which point you proudly inform her of your good fortune in being adored by her.

Dr. Faraji directs your attention away from pleasant recollections and onto the current subject matter. "Yes, you can't let your upbringing's fear keep you from pursuing the things you desire in the future.  Imagine your life if your heart had not subconsciously yearned for love?”

Given all of the drugs, drinking, and partying. "I'd most likely be dead," you confess. Your lifestyle was unsustainable, and Shuri should not have fit in, yet she did. She literally and metaphorically saved you that night. Life is love. A human being cannot exist without love. Shuri brought new life into you by loving you.

“But you’re here. You've evolved into a brilliant woman, a prominent design and political figure, and an excellent wife."

When your therapist recited your many successes over the last seven years, you choked back the question, "Are you trying to make me cry?" I don't have time to redo my makeup after this since I have a very hectic schedule." Dr. Faraji is not offended by your forthright demeanor. I was aware of your aversion to showing your feelings.

She chuckles as she adjusts her eyeglasses. “No, I am not trying to make you cry, Y/N. My point is that you shouldn't allow your history to prevent you from attaining what you want. And, if it's any consolation, I believe you and Shuri would make wonderful parents."

Perhaps Faraji had psychic abilities since she was spot on. You and Shuri are both excellent mothers. Two years later, you gave birth to your children after much preparation and consideration. Two lovely representations of the love you and Shuri have created. Building something in which elements of the two of you can exist in your children.

There you are, where it all began holding onto each other. You're standing in the center of the hall, embracing each other tightly as Shuri gives you time to catch your breath. Shuri sighs contentedly, a little chuckle escaping her lips. "What is it?" you inquire.

“I remember getting your drunk voicemail, and the only thing running through my mind was, ‘Go get her.’ This ache in my chest, that if I didn’t get to you as soon as possible, I would lose my chance.” You grimaced at the thought of that night, but you were always thankful for the courage of your intoxicated self all those years ago. “Stop bringing that up,” you groan. 

Shuri shakes her head, still fond of the memory, “It was the start of our love story. Now, I’m walking down this hallway with my wife and two children waiting for us. Life is a funny thing.” 

You smile when she mentions 'my wife' and the world you've created together. A future you never expected to have, but you're so thrilled it's yours. Shuri is all yours. "You saved my life," you say quietly.

"You are my life," Shuri responds, kissing your forehead. “You’re the greatest gift Bast could ever bestow upon me.” And just when you thought it was impossible, you fell even more in love.

You press your lips together and give each other a brief kiss. "Come on, let's go put the babies to bed," you say, and Shuri agrees, relieved that your panic has eased. As you walk down the corridor, you pull apart yet keep your hands entwined. You are greeted as soon as you go through the entrance and into the living room. Vian is the first to notice his parents dropping the block he was holding and crawling from the playmat.

You crouch down instinctively, allowing Vian to crawl into your arms with wobbly movements before lifting the soon-to-be one-year-old in a solid grasp. You missed your children. "Hello, my little bear," you coo, tickling the delicate skin beneath his chin. Vian reacts instantaneously, soft joyous cries from his tiny lips.

You feel overwhelmingly happy whenever you hear your baby boy laughing. “Silly boy. Were you good for Marco?” You ask in a sing-song tone.

The man in question gets off the sofa. “Perfect angels,” Marco insists, cradling Vatusia in his arms. The young child was content until she discovered you and Shuri had returned. Your little girl reached out for Shuri with grabby motions, her eyes pleading for comfort from her mother.

Shuri sprang into action without hesitating, moving at lightspeed to take Vatusia. "Did you miss me and Mommy, Tutu?" Shuri coos, lovingly brushing her nose on Vatusia's button nose. Vatusia's loud and cheerful giggles echo through the room while Vian lays his head on your shoulder after his bout of laughs. On the other hand, his sister was a very active baby who constantly sought stimulation and enjoyed exploring. Vian was calm and easygoing. He could doze off anyplace and be content to play by himself. He watches everything around him but rarely demands attention, though, of course, you shower him with unending love and affection.

"Thank you very much, Marco."

“Yes, thank you.” Shuri agrees, having grown comfortable with the older man. Marco's wedding speech was a crowd favorite. "We would not be here today if I hadn't found the pen successfully." The guest went wild with amusement at his story. Marco was the only person you could entrust your children to outside of the Dora’s, though you soon discussed hiring a nanny whenever you returned to work.

"Anytime," the man says, beaming as he observes your miraculous transformation.

You're rocking Vian slowly while massaging small circular patterns on his back. "You have to operate a hotel. Get back to work,” you joke. Recognizing the promotion you gave the former bartender.

Marco humors you with a salute. “You got it, boss.” At Marco’s dismissal from the penthouse, the Dora’s stationed inside nod and leave, leaving you and Shuri alone with your children.  

You take slow steps to your wife, ensuring not to disturb the baby boy in your arms, and smile at your joyful daughter. You lean in for a kiss on the forehead and tell her, "We missed you too, baby." The brown-eyed girl cackles at the reception of your love, and it’s the most precious sound you’ve ever heard.

Later after you’ve changed, having let Shuri go first, you return to find her lying in bed. Vian peacefully rests on her chest, his little mouth creating a slight pout. Vatusia lies cradled on her side, not quite sleeping, but a small yawn escapes her lips as her eyelids droop. The babies are dressed in pale blue Christian Dior onesies that your brother purchased. Your heart melts at the view. "Do I need to put them in their crib?" You ask. The twins had separate beds in their nursery in Wakanda, but for this short visit, you chose a single crib to hold them both. They're still relatively small.

“In a little. I want to make sure they sleep well before moving them.” Shuri’s tone is hushed so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

Always so attentive. “Okay.” You climb into bed, cuddling on your side to watch the scene until Shuri needs your help getting the restful babies to their bed. You can't help but reach out to lightly stroke Vatusia's silky hair so as not to startle her.

Shuri's words about the significance of being present come to mind. That was a journey, and you had to be patient with yourself. Mindfulness is a technique that trains you to look for happiness in the present rather than dwelling on the past.

You block off any outside influences that can distract you and give your full attention to the now. Vatusia twitches slightly and breathes shallowly. A deep sleep should come quickly to her soon. Apart from the rise and fall of his chest, Vian is fast asleep, calm, and motionless. It's so easy to become absorbed in the tranquility of these two beautiful beings that are a part of both of you, literally made of you.

You raise your gaze to Shuri, who is already looking back at you. The expression on your face is sufficient to convey your emotions. You still have to say it. But Shuri beats you to it: "I love you," she exhales.

And you don't hesitate to return the sentiment. "I love you."

The day you had started routinely. You and Shuri woke up beside each other. Griot alerted you the moment the twins woke up, opening the door connected to your bedroom. 

As you look down at the sleepy baby girl stirring awake, you notice an irregular pattern with her breathing. Nerves rise. “Do you think Vatusia’s breathing is weird?” you ask your wife, who was busying herself with gathering Vian. 

Shuri frowns, pausing to listen to her child’s breathing before calling out, “Griot, what’s Tutu’s oxygen levels.”

The AI responds immediately, constantly tracking the twin's vitals. “Princess Vatusia Esmé-Udaku’s oxygen levels are sustaining between 95-100%.” 

“And her respiratory rate,” Shuri inquires, bending down to retrieve Vian from the Vibranium crib. 

“20-40 beats per. The normal range for infants.” Griot answers. 

Even though you weren’t a doctor, you knew enough to understand the message; Vitusia was okay. “Please inform me immediately of any desaturation or if her rates decrease or increase outside the normal range.”

“Of course, Panther.”

Shuri turns to face you, holding a half-awakened Vian in her toned arms. Her clothing is securely clasped in her tiny fingers. It's adorable. Your wife assures you, "She's perfectly all right," You sigh in response. You were doing it again. Carefully picking up the young Princess, you say, "I'm sorry."

“You’re trying to give Mommy a heart attack first thing in the morning. Aren’t you?” You tease, using your customary high-pitched voice when speaking to the twins. Vatusia is wide awake now, chuckling as you press lips into her neck.

While taking in the scene before her, Shuri finds herself unable to suppress the grin that has formed on her face. "Please do not apologize. Never regret your concern for the well-being of your angels, sweetheart." How did you get so blessed to have someone in your life who is so supportive and understanding? "Come on, you have a big day today," Shuri said quietly, kissing your lips.

Understanding how busy today would be for you and Shuri, the new nanny collected the twins after breakfast. You had to put your thoughts back into work gear once the babies were out of sight. You had a few virtual sessions with the North American Chief Brand & Communications Officer and the Executive Committees.

Your job was Esmé's Head of Interior Design, but you'd recommended to your father that some of the most popular hotels and resorts include an on-site kids club and babysitters. The new granddad was overjoyed at the prospect. You expected to be needed as Esmé's Head of Interior Design throughout the construction stage, but your father urged you to take the initiative on the project. It took some persuasion from your wife and Dr. Faraji because it meant spending less time with Vatusia and Vian after sitting down and carefully adjusting your schedule. A great team supported you and handled everything well during pregnancy and maternity leave. Unless it was for critical choices or meetings, you felt comfortable relying on them.

The first task you'd assigned to the global Esmé teams was to collect statistical data to determine which resorts had the highest number of guest check-ins with children. You held a few meetings and came to the conclusion that you and your team would analyze the data before picking which hotels to upgrade first. Establishing on-site kid's clubs or hiring babysitters can provide parents with much-needed respite any time of day or night. Activities for children of various ages are planned at these supervised daycares. While you walked down the corridor to the playroom to check on Vatusia and Vian, you were filled with excitement about all the possibilities. Your wife appears almost unexpectedly. "Where are you going?" Shuri interjected.

"To see how the babies are."

"I went to the playroom, and they're great."

She didn't even wait for you to answer, instead using her enhanced strength to lift you with minimal effort. She's hauling you back in the direction of your bedroom over her shoulders. Shuri, perhaps due to your long marriage, intuitively understands the needs of her wife's body. There were moments when you needed it delicately and slowly as she showered you with compliments. Sometimes, like now, she'll change things by fucking you so hard that you can't even think straight. Hitting it from behind, you like you were a side chick.

It didn't matter how the monarch dealt with you. Sex with Shuri was always blissful; you were grateful to have it for the rest of your life. Call it cliché, but sex is a great stress relief for your hectic lifestyle. The rapid motions and powerful sexual satisfaction lead to an altered state of consciousness in which you can cognitively filter out all other inputs and concentrate your full attention on the sensations and emotional connection with each other.

“Keep your ass up for me,” your wife instructs, and you do as she says. "You want it so bad, huh?" Shuri teases, moving the tip back and forth across your entrance. You nodded, yes, yes, yes, because you needed it at this point—heat growing in the pit of your abdomen, yearning to be eased. Shuri smugly chuckles at your distress.

As she slips back in, keep your ass up in the air. Shuri pushes deep, her fingers digging into the flesh of your backside, and your breath hitches in your throat. Shuri leans back, seeing the length vanish inside your pussy. “Shit, baby,” she groans, and you sigh in relief at a stretch.

Shuri is standing upright while you are kneeling at the edge of the bed, legs spread apart, back arched artfully. The sheets' plush texture brushed across your sensitive nipples, and tits pressed into the mattress.

Covers shifted, eyes rolled in the back of your head;  Shuri began with a combination of slow, hard trust. As though you were floating, your head was light, and every caress was exhilarating. Your spine was tingling with chills. It's a fantastic sensation as Shuri drives into you, clearing away all thoughts and emotions that don't serve your satisfaction.

You rest your head on your arms, refusing to press your face against the covers and conceal the moans that fall from your parted lips. Let the woman behind you know how good she was giving it to you. "You sound incredible. I love how you beg for me."

Your tone is low and somewhat distorted as you're overcome with ecstasy. You gasp, "You feel so fucking amazing, fuck me so well." The words have the desired impact on Shuri, who accelerates her hips and works harder to extract more exquisite noises from your lovely honey voice.

"You deserve it," Shuri adds, unable to contain her admiration for you.

The vibrations of Shuri's hips hitting your ass, the hard impact of skin-on-skin contact, and sticky squelches filled the room with each slam. “Pl…please. So close. Baby, keep going," you whimper, your core throbbing with white-hot pleasure.

Shuri, who is no longer interested in slowing down, takes complete authority, pounding into you with such intensity that your body shakes. You arch into the contact, crying out loud, grateful for the sound protection, even though anyone with common sense could tell what was going on when the two of you vanished. Shuri fucks you with enthusiasm, pushing you up the bed before she needs to grasp you and hold you in place.

When Shuri speeds up the pace, your mind is in paradise. Praising you for how well you take it. You can bet Shuri was thrilled to see how your ass jiggled when her hips touched it. One of her hands slides over your ass and kneads the smooth flesh, guiding you back against her. "Damn," she breathes. Her tone was hypnotic.

The hand freezes when you let out a long, loud scream deep inside your gut. “R-right there,” you manage to stutter out. Now, you press your face into the fabric and scream Shuri’s name. As soon as you alerted her, she was positioned to strike the nerve deep within you precisely. Shuri shifted slightly and then pounded extra vigorously.

The deeper the penetration, the more your muscles relax. Shuri understood exactly how to curve her strokes to leave you gasping, panting, and sweaty beneath her. Shuri knew you were about to orgasm because she had the profound awareness that only comes from long-term relationships, from lovers who are very attuned to each other's rhythms. Becoming conscious of your breathing patterns, response levels, small motions, and reflexes.

Shuri leans over, sweaty skin sticking together, whispering in your ear, "Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me feel it," her voice is alluring, and all you can do is obey her. Shuri's quick speed never slows, and she brings a hand to your clit to intensify your pleasure. "Don't stop, baby. I'm going to cum for you," you warn, pushing back on her. Knowing the sight was enough to drive her wild.

The rhythmic pressure provides a unified experience of ecstasy throughout your body. Your walls spasmed, tingles pricked your spine, and your toes curled. Your body shakes as a wave of convulsive feelings washes over you.

"Oh my goodness, fuck baby, yes," you babble. Your orgasm hits you, causing your entire body to tense up. Your lips form Shuri's name as you cum around the strap, sending a jolt of pleasure all the way down your pussy. "Yes, take all you need, my love," Shuri exclaims as her hard thrust extends your orgasm.

She won't stop until the room is filled with your cries and the slick sound of her stroking the cum back into you.