Shuri’s life was a good one; at one point she had two parents and her brother, T’Challa, but that changed, as things always did. Her father was taken from her when she was nine, and her mother, Ramonda, had tried her best to keep the children safe, but sickness is almost an unpreventable beast. So Shuri lost T’Challa too—the doctor who’d treated her brother, Dr. Almehen; he’d been a great support to the family, and despite his failure to save her brother, he saved someone else—her mother. Ramonda waited two years before they made things official. Their romance was a strange one; no one would have ever thought that Namor and Ramonda would have gotten married.
At eleven, Shuri and her new stepfather had a rocky start, and she was still hurt by the death of her father. The man had never denied his daughter anything, and now Shuri was faced with a man who had expectations—not that she couldn’t meet them; Shuri was normally the smartest person in the room. What helped his cause was the fact that every morning her mother woke up with a smile on her face and a cup of tea brewed by him. Namor was truly a sap; he waited on Ramonda hand and foot, never allowing her to worry about those mundane things; he hired people to cook their food and shop for their groceries, and she never worried about paying for a thing.
Her mother stressed to her how important it was to try and find common ground with Namor. Shuri could remember their wedding day and how he’d gotten down to her eye level and told her.
"I’m not looking to take your father’s place, Shuri, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to be part of your heart." He’d said it so sincerely, looking directly into her eyes. She’d never felt so seen before in her life, and so she’d decided she would make room for him.
He’d been an exemplary stepfather; he helped her with homework, took her to concerts of bands he’d never heard of before, and he funded her entire college education. Shuri had received an email from the financial aid department thanking her for her full four-year payment.
She’d been shocked, and she immediately called her bank, asking how much was left of her college fund. They told her not a cent was spent, but that she could use funds to purchase books and pay for food.
Her mother was shocked to learn this news; that was the first time she’d ever seen them argue, and she had been in her bedroom listening as her mother yelled about how ridiculous it was. Shuri hadn’t understood it at all. Namor had always gone above and beyond for Ramonda, and now he was doing it for Shuri—why was that so wrong?
"I don’t understand what your problem is right now, Ramonda; I am taking care of this family, and our girl deserves a worry-free education. She's a genius, and if I can help her keep her college fund, of course, I’ll do it; she’s my family." He spoke gently but firmly. He was trying to keep his voice down, but that only seemed to make her mother more upset.
"You seem to forget that she is my daughter, not yours." She scolded, oblivious to Shuri's presence at the door."You cannot—" she was cut off by Namor’s wide eyes staring behind her.
Ramonda turned around to face her daughter, Shuri’s tears sliding down her face. She'd always known her mother always wanted things done her way, but this was too much.
"When Baba died, you poured all your time into T'Challa, making sure he had all he needed; when my brother got sick, I helped you by making sure everything ran smoothly here; you never had to worry about me because I took care of it so much so that I got into university at just fourteen, and I am more than halfway finished. The only good thing that has been in my life since T’Challa’s death has been school. I’ve worked harder than you even know, and one of the few people that have supported me decides to do something kind, and you’re upset?" Shuri tried her best not to yell, she never disrespected her mother, but the rage was screaming to be let out, her entire head felt as though it could explode.
"You would not understand," Ramonda said, swiping away her daughter’s tears. "Certain things are not appropriate to do, especially when they concern other people’s children." She said sweetly as if her daughter were too stupid to comprehend the meaning of such things.
"I hate you." Shuri snarled, pulling herself away from her mother. She packed her bag and called an Uber; she’d rather spend her holiday alone on campus than stay where she was not wanted.
Ramonda didn’t bother trying to talk to Shuri, it wasn’t her strong suit. She didn’t know how to reason with her, she’d always said her daughter was “a bit too literal to understand the simpler things in life.” Shuri certainly would never forget the feeling of going out to the car with only Namor at her side.
"You do not have to go back, little one," he said, making her giggle through her sniffles. "I should not have done that without consulting your mother. This is my fault." He said he was bringing her in for a hug, his hand patting her back, just like when she had bad dreams.
"She will never see me as anything other than someone she can control, Namor. Umama will only ever see me as a naive child, and I just cannot take it anymore; you were just trying to help me." Shuri said, pulling back from his embrace.
By the time her sixteenth birthday rolled around, she realized why her mother never bothered coming upstate to visit her at university, and she rarely answered Shuri’s video chats. They only spoke through voice calls, with her mother constantly talking about her new book deal and how she was going to go on a book signing tour. Shuri feigned happiness for her mother’s sake, but she certainly didn’t care.
Spring break reared its ugly head, and Shuri had decided she would go home. Despite their upsets, Shuri loved her mother very much. She was excited to see her; maybe they could go on their usual walks and make a trip to their favorite art gallery. That was until the car pulled into the driveway and the only person there was Namor, in his green knit sweater and grey dress pants, letting her know he’d just gotten back from his office.
"Where’s mama?" She asked, grabbing her plate from the counter; he’d ordered her favorite foods, and she would never turn down the opportunity to have a good meal.
"What do you want to drink, princess?"She knew he was trying to avoid telling her what she already knew.
"Strawberry lemonade if you have it," she said. "Are you going to answer my question?" she said, digging into her plate.
"She decided to start her book tour today and will not be here for the rest of this week, Shuri; I am so sorry. I tried to have her postpone, but she would not listen.” He stated, placing their drinks on the table.
Of course, her mother would do this; it wasn’t anything new, and she shouldn’t have expected this time to be any different. Ramonda had a knack for doing only what she wanted, when she wanted, no matter the consequences. Not that Ramonda was ever the one to face them; that was usually Shuri or Namor.
Namor didn’t let Shuri waste her week; he took her shopping and to the art gallery, letting her pick new pieces for his office. He’d always made her feel special, never letting her feel as though she was second best. As the associate set aside the art they’d chosen, his phone rang.
“This is he,” he answered, a bit taken aback. “That is not possible, I just spoke to her three hours ago.”
Shuri turned towards him, he sounded angry and hurt. His dark brown eyes seemed to widen the more he listened.
"Namor, what’s wrong?" Looking up at him, she inquired. She could see the tears pooling in his eyes and the hand not holding his phone coming to caress her cheek.
"There’s been an accident, sweetheart," he answered, his voice shaky.
It had taken her more than two hours to get to the police station; her mother's car had been hit on the Harvard Bridge so hard that it flipped over the barrier and into the water. The paramedics stated she’d been dead on impact, and the girl who’d hit her car tried apologizing to them, but Shuri couldn’t care less about her rantings. Her mother was dead.
Shuri didn’t remember the drive home or anything other than the cold, wet rain that poured down on them when they arrived at the police station to pick up all her belongings. The cold was embedded in her bones, and she couldn’t bring herself to speak, unsure if anything would even come out at all. Everything felt like a blur; nothing made sense anymore. The world around her seemed broken and bad. Why her mother and not the girl who had hit her car?
She was a void, her ears not registering his words, her eyes fixating on her mother’s favorite chair, and the only thing she felt was cold; she couldn’t help her shivers, and the gray sweater she’d been wearing being completely soaked didn’t help either. Shuri was certain that at any moment she would simply wake up from this nightmare and be back at her dorm. She was certain this wasn’t real; it couldn’t be. Shuri could feel his eyes on her; she knew he was saying something, but she just couldn’t figure out what it was.
She found herself in the master bathroom, facing the mirror. She could hear water running, but she couldn’t take her eyes off herself. She looked hollow, and her eyes were puffy and red from her tears. She jumped when his arm came to her shoulder, her eyes jumping to his, begging him to make it all go away.
He didn’t say anything as he got on his knees in front of her, pulling her shoes and then her socks off. He reached for the button on her jeans, his eyes glued to hers as he slid them off. Next were her sweater and her undershirt. His hands felt warm on her skin, his nails lightly scraping her arms.
"Can you handle the rest, Shuri?" he asked, his hand holding hers.
"No," she croaked out, her voice shaky as she felt the tears slide down her face.
Shuri leaned into his chest; his shirt, still wet from the rain, was clinging to his body. He still smelled like his cologne, and she sobbed onto him, her whole body shaking against him. She had never given much thought to boys; being the youngest in her class, she kept most people at arm’s length. Yet here she was, crying deeply into the chest of the one person in her life who’d survived; she was certain she was cursed, which made her cry harder.
His right hand rubbed her back, and the other came to her neck, tilting her head upwards. His eyes were wide as he stared into hers. She felt heat pulsing inside her in a place she’d never felt it before. She couldn’t help but look at his lips, which were red and plump; he looked so different from this angle. He traced his hand softly from her neck to her cheek, and she couldn’t help but lean into him. She knew what she wanted, no, needed: his lips on hers.
It was almost as if he could read her mind; she knew he knew what she wanted. His head shook slowly as the look in his eyes became clear and deranged. One of his eyes was cloudy, as it always was, but she felt as if he’d never seen her more clearly. She knew that if she thought about it too much, she’d feel bad, so she didn’t.
"You are grieving, Shuri," he said, his thumb stroking her lower lip. "Do not let it guide you.”
She knew it was wrong when the thought first ran through her head, but she didn’t care, not when she could feel his heart beating through his shirt. Shuri pushed herself up onto her tippy toes and brushed her lips against his; it took two seconds for him to kiss her back, and they were the longest moments of her life. Their mouths moved slowly, her head tilting to the side to allow him to truly devour her, which he did, his tongue guiding hers. Shuri couldn't help but press into him even more, his hands now on her back, his hand over her bra, reminding her how exposed she was, but it didn’t matter; nothing did.
A pounding at the door made them pull away immediately, Namor’s hand over his chest, the look on his face pulled her back into reality. His eyes were wide and filled with tears as he left the bathroom closing the door, she could hear him open the door of the bedroom.
She pressed her ear against the door trying to listen to who had arrived.
"Namor, I am so sorry," she heard her godmother say. "I knocked on the door, but after a couple of minutes, I just came in. I hope that’s alright."
"It’s alright, I started a shower for Shuri; she was in such a state after we saw her bo-, after we saw her mother that she could barely get back into the car." she could hear the tremble in his voice.
She stepped into the shower, her shower cap protecting her from the extra work of washing her hair. Her brain could only focus on one thing: how royally screwed she was; she’d just kissed her stepfather, her dead mother’s husband. This was bad, but what’s worse is that it felt good, and she wanted to do it again. She let the washcloth slide in between her legs; the need for release was too much. Shuri set the cloth to the side as she sat on the small bench in the shower. Bringing her legs up, she slid her fingers to her clit, circling the bud with two fingers. All she could think of was his wet body on hers as they kissed. Shuri brought her other hand down to her entrance, sliding one finger in gently. She needed something to relieve the desperation she felt; if she didn’t come, she was certain she would die.
Her thoughts went back to his tongue in her mouth, the way he’d pressed her closer to him, as if they could have gotten any closer, her finger pumping in and out of her cunt, the feel of his hands on her bare skin—she was almost there, her fingers circled her clit faster and faster as she remembered the look in his eyes as she pushed herself up to his lips, the feel of his damp chest against hers. That was all it took to push her over the edge, her cunt clenching around her finger as she tried to keep her moans as silent as possible. The thought of someone hearing her was terrifying, but not as terrifying as the look on his face as he backed away from her. She couldn't help the tears sliding down her face as she let herself cry some more. She messed up, and there was no way to fix it; there was something wrong with her. Why did she feel this way? How could she do this to her mother? She wasn't even buried yet.
Shuri had gone to the living room, freshly showered and as ready as she could be to talk to her godmother. Okoye was a great woman, but she wasn’t her mother; no one was. Namor had come back out after his shower with wet hair and dry clothes, and she wished they were alone. Shuri needed to tell him it was a mistake. Her thoughts were so loud that she could barely keep up with Okoye and Namor’s conversation.
"Shuri," Okoye said, reaching over to touch her arm and grabbing her attention. "Did you hear me?”
“I’m sorry no, I-I was thinking.” She said, peeling her eyes away from Namor.
"I know how hard this is. Namor and I were just talking about how you should spend a couple of weeks with me; it might be nice to be around someone who understands what you’re going through." With a small smile on her lips, Okoye said.
Shuri pulled her arm away, quick to stand on her feet. "Are you fucking serious, Namor?" She spat out her words like venom. "She isn’t even in the ground, and you already seek to get rid of me?"
"Shuri, that's not what this is, I simp-" she cut him off.
"I thought you cared for me, I thought you lo-" tears streamed down her cheeks; he was sending her away because of what she had done. "You know what, Namor? Fuck you."
Shuri had, for a long time, seen herself as more mature than she actually was; this started when her father died and has never gone away. Even when her mother remarried, Shuri struggled to let another person take care of her. Ramonda had come to expect maturity from her daughter but never gave her the respect one would give an adult. Namor always walked a thin line; as her stepfather, he had certain responsibilities, but he also knew it wasn’t his place to demand things from her. That's why she avoided him for two years; she knew he would make them talk about it, so she never went home, not for the holidays, not answering his calls or texts, but he always deposited money into her account and never expected anything in return, and if she thought about it long enough, that pissed her off too.
The therapist she started seeing a year ago would have a field day if they knew that Namor is who Shuri thought of during sex, but she couldn’t help it; M’Baku’s car smelled of carrots. Shuri could feel two of his fingers inside her, preparing her for what was to come. His thumb circled her clit as he pumped in and out of her. Her gasps were barely audible over the music; she had her eyes closed as she imagined Namor's fingers inside her during her orgasm and that it was his length pressing against her thigh. M’Baku added a third finger inside her; she reached for his wrist, the feeling almost too much.
"You can take it, Shuri, I know you can," he said against her ear. His thumb moved faster over her clit, and his fingers curled upward, hitting a spot within her that she’d never been able to reach before, it pushed her over the edge; her orgasm was deafening. She tried to open her eyes, but a bright light poured directly into their window.
She propped herself up trying to make out what it was. “M’Baku—”
Red lights and sirens were what kept her from being able to fully sleep—that, and the cold, wet raindrops that splattered her face.
"Ma’am, can you tell me your name?" A man asked, he was wearing a paramedic hat.
"Sh-Shuri Udaku," she mumbled as the man placed something warm around her neck. "C-cold." She whimpered. There was a sharp pain in her abdomen, the feeling of cold, unforgiving metal. Her eyelashes were too heavy with raindrops and tears; she couldn’t remember when they’d started to fall, but she missed him.
"Ma'am, I need you to..." the man said.
She tried to stay awake and focus on the paramedic’s voice, but the pain she felt in her torso and the fact that her mind was occupied with the knowledge that she’d die without the only person in her life who she loved distracted her.
"You think I care about that scientist's future? She killed Ramonda, and you let her get away with it, but now she’s almost taken my Shuri from me, and I will not allow that to happen again. I am pressing charges!"
Shuri had woken up in a hospital bed, to the sound of raised voices, one that she recognized, she peeled her eyes open and could feel the resistance of rheum. She tried to raise her hands to wipe it away but her arms felt weak, and she was tired, so tired. Shuri opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue felt dry and heavy, she cleared her throat.
"Namor?" Her voice was no more than a squeak, but he’d heard her; he always did.
Her stepfather turned around quickly, the police officer in front of him completely forgotten.
“My little one,” he said lovingly as his hand cupped her face. “You’re awake.”
Shuri couldn’t help the sigh that she released; the feel of his warm hand on her cheek made everything okay. His eyes were filled with unshed tears; she had missed him terribly; his black button-up was undone at the top. Her tongue ran over her lips; the feel of the cracks under her tongue sent her mind racing.
“What happened?” she asked, looking around the hospital room. “One minute I was with M’Baku and the next thing I knew I was on the grass getting rained on.”
"You and your friend were hit by a reckless driver; why you were parked on the side of the road is not something I approve of, but when I got the call, I was so scared I thought you were gone." He said that as his thumb circled over the vein in her wrist, she’d never noticed the size difference between them—his thumb was nearly as long as two of her fingers. "But, um, M’Baku, he hasn’t woken up yet."
"No, no, he’s strong; he wouldn’t." Shuri couldn’t help the heaving cries that racked through her body; she couldn’t lose anyone else. "No, please!" she wailed, her eyes closed tightly as she clutched her chest; she could barely breathe.
"Shuri, baby, I need you to try and take a deep breath." His voice sounded terrified, but she couldn't stop, even if she wanted to; everything was too harsh. Nothing in her life ever went the way she wanted it to go; her father, brother, and mother were all dead. Now M’Baku? When would her suffering end?
She could hear other people's footsteps in the room, felt cold being pushed into her veins, and then fell into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were no better; in them, she was standing on the beach in a white dress, with Namor’s hand on her cheek, his eyes looked wild and his hair disheveled, and out of nowhere, she felt searing pain. She looked down to see a spear lodged in her abdomen.
"You are my beloved," he said before bringing his lips to hers.
It wasn’t until nearly four days later that Shuri was released from the hospital. Namor called his colleagues to care for her wound, which was almost completely healed. She never thought her contributions to the WDG would’ve been used to help her, but she didn’t care anymore, about anything. She didn’t feel happy to be released back into his care; it felt wrong to leave while M’Baku was still in the hospital. Shuri had been to see him once every day, despite Namor’s request for her to rest.
M’Baku had been in a coma for two weeks before his parents decided that taking him off life support would be for the best, and Shuri couldn’t bring herself to speak to them, so she stood inside the hospital room as the doctors did their jobs. His parents left the moment the papers were signed; she wished they cared more. M’Baku always talked about trying to make them proud.
“They just left him here,” she said, trying to keep her voice down.
"I don’t think I would’ve come to see you if I knew you would be taken from me." He said this as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
“Of course, you would leave me by myself.” she could feel the tears sliding down her face.
"You are being dense purposefully, and it doesn’t suit you, Shuri," he said, turning her to face him. "I didn’t leave you; you left me. When you needed me, I stayed."
"You tried to push me off onto Okoye because I kissed you, and you didn’t give me the time to apologize." She said in between tears, trying not to hiccup, with his hand still wrapped around her bicep, holding her close to him. Shuri couldn’t help but look at both his eyes and mouth; the red of his lips was distracting, and the amount of focus it took to outright stare made her chest heave.
"Don’t presume to tell me how I felt after what happened; you never let me talk to you, so you would have no idea how it felt," he said, his eyes trailing down to her heaving chest. He knew he should let her go, but he couldn’t not when Shuri was listening to him for the first time in years.
"I messed everything up; what else was there to say?" I can’t get you out of my mind; I need—" The crashing of their lips cut her off. Kissing him felt good, and the hand on her bicep moved down to grip the hem of her dress. Her kisses were clumsy compared to his; his tongue brushed against hers; the searing heat pooled in her belly.
“Please…” she murmured. “I need you.”
Namor pushed them towards the door, his hands going behind her thighs, hauling them up around his hips; he grabbed her face and closed the gap, their lips meeting in a desperate kiss. He moaned into her mouth as Shuri’s hands came to his hair, tugging and pulling as his erection grew tight in his pants. His hand came to the back of her head, pulling them apart; he undid his belt, his cock springing free.
Shuri whimpered as he pushed himself inside her, his large hands moving to her hips, pulling her down onto his thick length as he began to thrust into her, the only sound reaching her ears being the sound of their bodies. Namor’s grasp on self-control was slipping the more Shuri whimpered, making an angelic sound. Something about being covered by his hulking body made her want to cry; she’d thought about him every time she’d fucked M’Baku, and now that she was actually doing it, her tears slowly slid down her face.
“If you hadn’t run away, we could’ve had this sooner.” He said.
“Aah,” she whimpered, his thrusts hitting deeper.
M’Baku had always been good to her, but here she was betraying him. Shuri had never even given a second thought to how she interpreted things, and she knew he was right, but it didn’t change how wrong this was, all of it.
Namor’s hand distracted her from her thoughts; his thumb found her clit, circling the bud quickly as his thrusts became harsher.
"Focus on the task at hand, little one," he said.
"Aah," she purred as his lips came to the base of her neck, licking and sucking at the tender spot. The sensations on her neck and of his thumb on her clit set her bouncing faster on him as her orgasm overtook her. Namor wasn't far behind her, the cramping sending him over the edge, groaning into her ear as he finally arrived, his cum filling her to the brim.
It took several minutes for Shuri to understand what she’d just done. It wasn't until Namor pulled out and straightened her dress that she realized that M’Baku lay in front of them, dead.
"Let's go home, Shuri," Namor said, holding out his hand for her to grab.
She knew there was no going back if she did this, but none of the reasons why she shouldn’t be with him were alive anymore, so she placed her hand in his.