Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the battle is over, Shuri is sitting on the beach, and finally, she cries. 

She knows she shouldn't, she's alive, she survived, there is raw strength coursing through her veins, she is the Black Panther after all. But still, she cries, hot and unforgiving tears running down her cheeks and on her black skin. Shuri doesn't wipe them away, not this time, she doesn’t try to will them away, no. 

She's alone sitting in the sand, Nakia fell asleep on the couch a few hours ago, Shuri had put a pillow under her head and she had even checked on Toussaint before coming down here. 

They're fine, they're both asleep and hopefully dreaming, there is no bonfire this time, just her, the wind, the waves, and the stillness of it all.

The night is nothing but silent: she can hear the sand gently moving as she buries her toes deep inside of it, she can make out the whistling of the trees and their branches and the lives they lead, and she can see and feel the waves moving up and down. The sea is so black and so dark, it reflects the sky but it feels so hollow.

Almost like her sitting alone there she thinks.

She doesn't remain alone though.

Shuri doesn't know why or when but Namor appears out of the sea, out of the crashing ocean, and if she should move, urge him to go away... She does neither, she's quiet, she's silent as the feathered serpent god steps outside of the sea. Again there is jewelry all around his neck, his chest is bare, he wears nothing but those shorts he always seems to have on and he moves as one with the wind. Silent and deadly, the metaphor is apt, Shuri knows this much. 

Namur is a god, Namor is a killer.

He was Death itself on that day, in the throne room, if Shuri closes her eyes she can still see it, the unmoving corpse of her mother, the way Namor had looked at her, with so much hatred, so much dire, reminding her of her place, telling her that she was the Queen now. Because it was the order of the world, the natural balance of life, he had taken a life, he had changed her forever. 

There is none of that in his eyes tonight, Shuri remarks, she sees him clearly in the semi-darkness of the beach. Namor, if anything, looks tired beyond reason. 

Suddenly, she can see how old he is. She feels it, especially when he slouches and sits beside her. A bit too close for her to like in normal circumstances, his knees pressed to his bare chest too, their forearms touching. Shuri has more layers than him, a jacket of her own design, and some shorts. Despite the jacket, she knows the warmth she can feel is one hundred percent his. Namor's.

None of them says anything and the night passes. 

She eventually dozes off against the thick towel she had brought with her and when she emerges, it's early morning. The atmosphere is all yellow and soft light. And for some reason, Namor is looking down at her.

His gaze is intense, Shuri blinks twice and runs one hand through her curls, just to be sure she's not dreaming. She isn't, he is looming over and watching her without any agency, openly, as if seeing her for the first time, it's almost the same look he gave her when he told her the story of his people. Of his mother. Of his entire life and sufferings.

Namor nods and he is the one that moves, he stands up in one simple move, elegant and grounded and before Shuri says anything, he's marching back to the ocean.

When she is alone once more, she closes her eyes and feels like crying again.

It happens again.

Almost every night, when Shuri is sitting alone on the sand, in the same exact spot, Namor eventually appears. By the seventh night, yes Shuri is counting, he sits so close to her that she can hear and almost taste every single breath that he takes. His breathing, she notices, is slower than any man's, she had already wondered if his heartbeat was different as well, probably. He is not just a man, after all, Namor is a god, and yet he sits on the beach with her. 

And in those evenings, Shuri has to admit, she doesn't feel like the panther, she's just a woman staring at the emptiness of it all. And she is not alone in doing so, the thought comforts her, it envelops her whole and it's enough to shut down the turmoil in her heart and her head.

Namor flooded their city and murdered her mother.

Namor showed her some kindness as well as the way of his people and their city.

Namor had threatened murder and had wanted to burn the entire world with her.

Namor is here with her.

"Why are you here?" Finally asks Shuri on the ninth night of them meeting like this. Of him joining her, she needs to know, for herself, so it makes sense and so she can tell herself that he doesn't need this as much as she does. 

Yeah, that’s the real horror of the entire situation, isn’t it? Shuri finds herself missing his presence in the daylight, when Nakia makes a comment in French Shuri wonders if Namor agrees, when Toussaint asks her to teach him how to fight, she wonders how the Talokanil teach their ways to their children. 

Shuri wishes he wasn't in all of her thoughts. 

But he is.

He doesn't reply immediately no, Namor sighs still looking ahead, still looking at the sea, she studies his profile, his pointy ears, the jade inside his nose, his beard... she should look away.

"Do you not want me here, princess?"

He had made her a queen and yet, he calls her princess? It doesn't make sense to Shuri's ears, but she supposes that's how they met after all and he is not answering her question.

"I asked you a question and that's not much of an answer."

"Well... I am here, is it not enough?"

He ponders and finally, Namor turns to her and Shuri feels something in her tighten, they are too close, she can count his eyelashes, she can lose herself in that dark gaze and she can see how he's looking at her. His face is open, vulnerable in a way, Namor raises one eyebrow as if to ask the question again and Shuri nods no. She nods and looks away because this is too much: when she looks at him, it's too much and nothing at once.

There is the little girl that wants to scream for her mother to be back, and then, there is the panther who just wants to pin him to the ground and hurt him until he begs for mercy. And finally, there's a woman who just sees a man, a man who appears to be lost and wants to be enough. For her somehow.

It's just too much.

"I want to be here," Namor claims after another moment of silence, he whispers it into the night but at this point, he could have been screaming into Shuri’s ears and it would have had the same effect, honestly. She doesn't dare to turn to him, Shuri is a coward because she doesn't know what she might find on Namor's face, it could be everything, it could be nothing. 

She just stares at the waves and she doesn't even flinch when he grabs her hand, the one close to him. Namor intertwines their fingers together and her heart leaps at that, his hand is bigger than hers, fingers thicker too, his palm impossibly warm, as radiant as the sun itself.

Will you burn me and scatter my ashes all across the ocean? That's what Shuri wants to ask, and she wants him, the feathered serpent god, the K'uk'ulkan to say yes and seal the promise with his lips.

But no, suddenly her mouth is dry and she can not utter those words.

Shuri can not.

So she lets Namor hold her hand and she falls asleep with their fingers still intertwined together. 

Namor holds her hand almost every night after that. He’s here, she’s here, Shuri still doesn’t say the words that plague her heart, but she feels them. She navigates through them, and most of the time, she’s drowning in them. In him and his warm presence, the fact that it’s all wrong, that logic and reason are screaming for her to get away; and the fact that she let him live, spared him in a way because that’s who she is, is also weighing her down.

And the fact that night after night, he is here. 

Because Shuri hadn’t ended it, she had almost crushed everything, his very existence itself, but she had let him live, so in a way, she was still holding his life in her hands. His survival had needed her forgiveness.

Maybe it still did.

One morning, when Namor usually leaves, before he has to make his way back to the water, where he can truly be himself in a way, he brings Shuri’s right hand to his lips. It’s slow and deliberate and his eyes are fixated on Shuri. There’s defiance in his gaze and hope too, he dares her to push him away, and he sincerely hopes she doesn’t. Yet again, Namor doesn’t voice it, they never seem to find the words lately, at least, Shuri can’t, however, she can read it clear as day what he’s asking for.

So she doesn’t move and she lets the god kiss her hand. The back of it, then the knuckles, and then a gentle press of his mouth on each finger. His beard brushes against her dark skin and the lines of ink on her skin too, it shouldn’t bring her comfort or peace, but it does. And all the while, Namor is looking at her.

“Have a good day, princess.”

“Don’t call me...” Shuri doesn’t even have the time to finish her sentence, he’s already standing and she’s left wondering and staring at his back, the muscles there, that flex and move as he moves.

In that particular instance, in the early morning and pale glow of the sun, walking away after peppering some kisses on her hand, Shuri thinks she sees a glimpse of the god Namor is. She still doesn’t believe in it, still doesn’t call for him or pray to him, however, she can see it. There’s no explanation for it, it’s like the air she felt that day, knowing it was T’Challa, her big brother, with her and welcoming her back.

It’s the same sentiment.

Shuri can’t name it, she just knows it’s there.

The next morning, he doesn’t kiss her hand when he leaves. No, when Shuri sits ups and stretches, the cover she brought the night before falls off her shoulder, and she’s wearing a tank top underneath. And right there, on her bare shoulder, Namor presses his mouth. Kisses again, they feel heavier than the day before, it leaves goosebumps on her skin, their eyes meet and Shuri wishes she had the strength to push him away. 

She could, the panther could take over and she could send him flying miles away from her. She has done it in the past, no doubt she could do it again. She doesn’t, she doesn’t and she watches as a smile crosses his features as he presses his nose against her shoulder.

Namor is smiling and breathing her in. He’s beautiful in that instance, Shuri doesn’t attribute that to people usually, she sees the beauty in the lines of programs she coded herself or when the machines she has built from scratches are working and performing well. That’s beautiful, but he is, his short dark hair is somehow a bit messier and his brown skin, lighter than hers, glows in this light and new lines appear on his face as he is smiling.

And just like that, the moment ends when Namor gets up and wishes her a good day.

Shuri should stop him, she should warn him about the consequences if he comes back. She does neither, she still doesn’t know what to say, no one has ever left her speechless, no one, but he does, the circumstances, her beating heart, and the fact that he wanted to know her perfume, her scent... all of that has left her speechless.

So Shuri watches as she leaves, she stays on the beach a little bit longer after he departs, hugging herself with everything she has, wondering what is wrong with her. Nakia finds her like that and she’s glad.

“Shuri... do you want to talk about it?” And something, on Nakia’s face, the way she offers a hand to Shuri, suggests that she knows, that she has seen him leave in the morning, seen the both of them tangled together.

“I don’t know what to say...” Shuri whispers, she hates how frail she sounds. She should be stronger, for her own sake, for Wakanda’s sake, and even for Nakia and her nephew. “What can I say when he’s everywhere I look? He’s in my thoughts and he’s... everywhere Nakia.”

Nakia nods like she understands and she shakes her hand in front of Shuri’s face again and when she finally accepts it, she realizes that Nakia is smiling, she’s not mad, because Shuri is thinking about the man who murdered her mother in a way she shouldn’t. No, she wraps one arm around Shuri and asks her what she wants for breakfast, Toussaint is already at school but they have time. Shuri is in no condition to help but she watches as Nakia cuts all the fruits she likes and makes her favorite juice as well.

“You don’t have to say anything, I used to get so mad at your brother you know? Thinking it was all his fault, I couldn’t walk away.” Nakia chuckles. “I was just mad at myself because I couldn’t admit I needed him that much.”

“I shouldn’t. Not him.” Shuri nods no as if to push the thought away, wishing logic and reason could take over once more.

They don’t, since she met him, visited his city, saw his people, and heard his story, they don’t. She had wanted peace, she had felt the hope through her whole chest, finally less angry at the world for taking her big brother. And then Namor had committed an atrocity, he had done the unthinkable, and she had thought screw the world, they don’t deserve anything, and she had almost burned it all. Almost took care of business, as Erik did. None of that had been analytical, and none of it had made sense.

And now this? 

This pull she feels toward him, how she already knows Namor could give her so much more? 

It’s everything.

Nakia leans in and grabs both of Shuri’s hands on the table.

“Maybe, but you do, and you’re going to drive yourself mad the more you fight it. So don’t.”

So don’t.

It seems so simple.

Shuri thinks about it all day, she does truly, she does her best to occupy her mind. She helps Toussaint with his homework when he comes back, she has a conversation with M’Baku and is pleased to see that the role of king fits him properly. Shuri assures him he can count on the Black Panther and that she will return to Wakanda as soon as possible, for now, being here helps, but if anything, the Panther will strike again.

So don’t, said Nakia.

It’s the only thought on Shuri’s mind as she waits for Namor that evening. Suddenly afraid he will not show, he’s anything but prompt, in the darkness, out of the ocean he appears, and yet again, as silent, as he was the first night, he sits right next to her.

But it’s not the same silence that envelops them, not like it was before, Namor can probably sense it because he turns to Shuri, and he finally speaks.

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No.”

Her reply is almost immediate, it’s terrifying how fast Shuri makes up her mind. She trusts Nakia with her whole life, so she decides to stop fighting, she has to see this through and see where it will lead her. It can not be worse that the paths they walked together before. Nothing can be worst than that day in the desert where she almost killed him.

She could have.

She still can, Shuri thinks abruptly, she pushes the thought away however, it’s the truth, no place for it tonight. Instead of fighting it, she’s the one grabbing one of Namor’s arms this time, still so firm, still so warm and she wraps it around herself. Even with her newfound strength, she’s still so small compared to him, she’s all lean and muscles and he’s broad, large, and deadly. And yet, Namor seems to be content to hold her in his arms, he breathes in deeply as Shuri’s head rests on his naked shoulder, her skin gently brushing against his jewelry.

“Tell me a story.”

“Hmm?”

“Yes, the stories mother tell their children down below, I want to know them.”

She can feel him smile and she closes her eyes as Namor begins to speak. She doesn’t know if he does the tales any justice, but his voice is low and deep and it’s enough, he tells her how the children are taught to trust one another and above all Chaak, the god of the sea. Who welcomes all of them in its embrace and always provides for them. Namor speaks of another god as if he wasn’t considered one himself by his people and Shuri wants to point that out, but she can’t, it’s easier to listen to him, it’s easier to take it all in.

And hope that those stories will become a part of herself as well.

She does doze off, all of that thinking has exhausted her and Namor is so warm, and he’s holding her close. His hand is on her hip and gently tracing circles into the line of her clothing, yet, still firm enough for Shuri to feel it. It sends shivers down her spine at first, it fuels the fire she can sense in her stomach, she doesn’t act on it, she breathes in deeply and eventually dozes off. 

They’re lying on the sand when she wakes up and she’s still in his arms, pressed against his naked chest and Namor has both arms wrapped around her this time. He’s looking down at her like he did that first morning and again, he smiles.

She should say something. 

“Don’t leave until you’ve kissed me.” 

It comes off as an order in the end, Shuri doesn’t intend to, but that’s how it escapes her lips, and seeing his expression change from content to interested, again, that eyebrow of his is raised, Shuri knows she made the right call.

He’s a god, after all, he’s a warrior, he took lives with those very hands pressed against her back, against her, and yet he’s here, even though she could have made sure he wasn’t. Shuri is never letting him forget that and she suspects he is well aware of that fact.

“Yes, princess,” he finally responds and Namor uses his strength to bring her up, closer to his own face; she’s all flushed and pressed against him, their legs all tangled together and their hearts almost beating the same tune. And he leans in.

To plant his lips against her forehead.

Shuri groans really, she makes a low, low sound in her throat, no it’s the Black Panther being close, and oh yes, she thinks, she could murder him right there. Kill the feathered serpent god for that mockery alone, separate his head from the rest of his corpse and toss it aside, as if it were nothing.

“Like that?” Namor taunts.

“No, not like that, you know damn well not like that...” The fire in Shuri, the one he had started again on that day, the one that she had to put out with her own tears in the desert that day (yield, she had said), that fire is back full force and she wants to crush Namor with it.

“Oh? Maybe this is better.” Again, their faces are close to each other and this time, he presses his mouth against her right cheek. Shuri makes a sound she’s not proud of, really not and she decides that she has had enough, surely, this is all just a game to him and he was just messing with the little princess before heading home.

Shuri moves, she is strong enough to push him away now, shoving him in the sand with no finesse and she hears the sound Namor makes, between a gasp and a moan and he retaliates, of course, he does. Gripping Shuri’s arms and pushing her into the sand, where he wants her.

It’s messy next, Shuri fights without really fighting, she won’t do it, she promised herself that day, she won’t ever fight him again and in the end, Shuri is underneath him as he somehow managed to have the upper hand and find a place for himself between her legs. 

He has one of her arms pinned above her head, his grip is firm there and would probably have broken another woman’s arm in the process, but not her. Shuri’s other’s arm is in the space between them, she has one hand around his neck, right above the necklaces and the pearls, like a claw, pressing as well with too much brute force for anyone else but him to handle it.

“In yakunaj... ” Namor whispers in the space between them, he speaks the language of his people, Shuri can’t make up the exact words, but she knows, there is some fondness to them, she is sure of it, especially when he looks down at her like that as if she were his entire world and everything she had been feeling those past few days was mirrored in his heart.

Maybe, Shuri thinks, releasing her grip on his neck, he releases her hand too, this time, she’s free to cup his face and when she does, Namor closes his eyes for a few seconds, breathing everything in. The lines of his face are so smooth, he’s lived for years and years, and yet, he’s here with her. His fate is entangled in Shuri’s.

“I’ll kiss you.”

It’s all the warning Shuri gets before she finally, finally, gets what she wants.

A small and distant part of her wants to hate this, wants it to be so bad and so appalling she’ll never come back to it, to him, to the god, and never asks him for anything ever again.

Of course, it’s not, when their lips are sealed together, Shuri realizes that they’re warm too, like every part of him and it’s welcomed in the morning. And the pressure he applies is almost too much, he’s crushing their mouths together and when she gasps, for air, for reason, for something else that is not Namor, it’s foolish, because Namor’s tongue is right there. Against hers, in her mouth, moving and tasting everything.

She’s been kissed before, by fumbling boys and suitors a bit too afraid of her statute as a princess.

Namor kisses her like she’s already his, that’s what Shuri thinks as it deepens and he presses his entire body and frame against her, her hands no longer stay on his face, no, they travel to his shoulders, to his back. To trace and touch the muscles there and to plant themselves on his shoulders, urging him not to hold back anymore. And he doesn’t, Shuri gasps and moans again as his lips travel to her jaw, he maps the shape of it with his tongue, it makes a slick sound that should embarrass Shuri but it’s just something else in their embrace.

His bare chest is pressed against her own clothing and she can still feel him, the full power of him against her breasts, stealing her oxygen like she doesn’t need it, and Namor is still between her thighs and he keeps pressing himself against her, Shuri feels him, his arousal and his desires, pressed right against her core and he’s already hard. There is no mistaking it as Namor buries his face in the crook of her neck, kissing and biting everything he can reach, Shuri moans his name, eyelids halfway closed, both hands deep in his hair now, guiding him with brute force, her hips moving up and down as she rubs herself against his hard on.

She wants this.

More importantly, Shuri needs this. Namor groans in her neck and makes his way back up to her face and kisses her harshly again. One of his hand cups her breasts through the clothing, again, there is nothing gentle about it, she should hate this, she wants so much more. Her body wants so much more, she can feel herself getting damp and ready for him already, for him to invade and pound into her as he should already be doing, Shuri wants to be ashamed, ashamed because it’s happening so fast, after a few kisses, but she’s not fighting it anymore.

“In yakunaj,” Namor repeats, speaking again. He’s not kissing her anymore, why not, it was so perfect, instead, he presses down on her hips so she stops moving. Shuri doesn’t want to, she whines and bites her lower lip to express her frustration and he chuckles. “Oh I want you too, you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this but...”

“Then do not talk. Keep kissing me, keep moving,” Shuri pulls him in for another kiss, it’s as searing and as maddening as the previous one. This shouldn’t work, she shouldn’t be ready to abandon everything just so she can come on his cock that she can still feel through his shorts and her own clothing, and yet, she wants and wants and wants ... 

It’s almost as if she fell right into it, everything she had been pushing away those past few days: every time he sat down next to her, every time he pressed his shoulders against hers, every time he kissed the tattoo on her hand... Now, she’s into it, she’s drowning in it, she’s thriving in it, there is no escape, Shuri doesn’t want to come up for oxygen, him, Namor, the K'uk'ulkan, he will be her air.

Namor manages to pull away nevertheless, he sounds breathless when he speaks next, ironic when she knows he doesn’t really need air as much as she does. “And I want to, but your people are starting to wake up and when I finally make love to you, princess...” Their eyes meet as he says this, it is a promise? Shuri wants to taunt him, ask him if he will put all of that strength to good use and break her with all of his might, and fill her so she can spill as much as the waves of the ocean crashing on the rocks during a storm.

Oh, Bast, Shuri has never had thoughts as filthy as these. It’s him, it’s Namor, he consumes her.

“I don’t plan on stopping for hours and hours... and I want to hear you call out for me and only me."

“But?” 

“But not right now.”

There is a logic to his words, there’s adoration in his eyes, they pierce right through Shuri and she can sense all of it, it makes her mouth dry, and even if she wants to argue and maybe beg (what a shame, the Black Panther does not beg, she should be incite fear and regrets into him), she doesn’t. She uses her strength to still herself and Shuri’s hands are no longer on his shoulders the next moment, they fall on the sand, on either side of her. 

Defeat, a clear sign of it, Namor can probably sense it too, that’s why he chuckles, the sound is precious in Shuri’s ear and when he leans in, he only kisses her forehead.

It’s not enough, that’s what Shuri tells herself as he gets up. Like every other morning, it’s in one move, fluid and strong and she barely even has time to register it before Namor is making his way back to the water.

Shuri sighs and sits up as he walks away, she clutches her own trembling legs when he disappears into the blue of the water.

I don’t plan on stopping, he had promised her.

Shuri hopes he’s not lying. But Namor never does, she should know that he’s always true to his words.

That did cost her everything, right?

And why is she allowing him to be the one to bring everything back to her?

Why?  

Shuri is restless in his absence, she doesn’t know how to stand, or how to even breathe and even Nakia notices her fidgeting and suggests she should go out, explore, and maybe go to the market, instead of running in circles. A good idea, Shuri agrees, except she doesn’t head for the market, no, she finds the lightest ensemble in her trunk, a pair of sneakers of her own design, she had spent too much time making fun of T’Challa not to design her own shoes after all, and she goes out for a run. Yes, she runs around the island, not holding anything back.

It’s not human speed, it’s faster, it’s not just the panther who needs to stretch her legs, it’s Shuri too, it’s the weight of her want and desire. And it’s so easy to do so, so freeing to feel the muscles in her legs stretch and work to the maximum, so liberating to hear the tu-dum of heart, it beats fast and creates the kind of music she could listen to forever. 

Shuri does feel better when she finally heads back to Nakia’s house and she makes a mental note to push herself further, physically in the future. Maybe it’s time for her to head back to Wakanda soon, she is sure M’Baku or Okoye would be more than happy to train with her and she could sharpen her combat skill. It might be the heart-shaped herb changing her metabolism, but she still needs to make sure it’s still her calling the shots. And it doesn’t hurt to be prepared right? 

She’s right there when Toussaint comes back from school, she listens to the boy retelling his classes before heading for a long shower. She’s not prepared for Nakia’s reaction when she finally comes out of her room, not wearing pants or a shirt. No, Shuri’s wearing a blue and black boubou, lined with fine threads of Vibranium, covering her shoulders and her legs. It’s different, she is aware, Shuri was never one for tradition or the girliest of girls, sometimes she wasn’t even sure the term woman was the right one for her, a debate for the ages really, but she feels somewhat comfortable tonight, she feels pretty in a way.

“Going somewhere?” she can hear the smile in Nakia’s voice and Shuri decides to cower away and she just helps her finish setting up the table.

Because yes, she is aware that she is doing that for him.

A small part of herself did roll its eyes in front of the mirror, it’s too late to back down now, right? Right?

Shuri hardly touches her plate, her stomach is in knots and she keeps replaying Namor’s words and the fact that he did admit, out loud, without any shame that he wants her.

That he plans on making her repeat his name over and over again.

It doesn’t make any sense that Shuri is reacting that way, really not and she prompts herself to go seat outside, in her spot before she can even think of changing her mind.

Maybe Namor won’t come. Maybe he has more pressing matters to attend to than to entertain her, maybe she misheard.

Shuri didn’t, she is sure of that and taking in a deep breath, she takes in the wind in her hair and the full moon in the sky. It’s not as dark as it was the first night Namor appeared out of the water, no, it’s a striking silver and white light that lights up the beach. 

Coming from the moon herself, another god, looking down at Shuri and casting her glow on her black skin. Shuri takes another deep breath, soaking up the moonlight, it’s the sort of calming energy that only comes once a month. She could have closed her eyes if it weren’t for the sudden shush of the ocean.

It’s him, the K'uk'ulkan, she knows before she can even see him.

And what a sight he offers. Namor doesn’t step out of the waves like he does every other night, no, he leaps forward, into the sky, where his ears always point, the wings around his ankles carrying him up and high, into the row of stars, almost next to the moon, shoulder square, standing tall. Daunting some kind of kingly attire and he’s wearing blue as well, his shoulders and part of his chest covered. Looking at her.

And lunging forward next, in Shuri’s direction. She’s not scared, she doesn’t flinch because she has already seen him move like that, in Wakanda, with his spear in hand, ready to kill, to kill her.

This time, Namor has no weapon, and he has no enemy, it’s just Shuri waiting. Shuri, he lands in front of, one knee deep in the sand, his head lowered, bowing to her and showing some reverence. Up close, she can make out his clothes, the blue and gold suit him perfectly and they are matching tones without even planning to.

“Le ujo' táan yéetel to'on le áak'aba', in yaakunaj, ” he speaks in his native tongue when he looks up, eyes falling on Shuri. And then Namor raises a hand, the offer right there, the meaning clear.

Shuri should question herself more, she should study every outcome, every possibility, and if her safety is at risk or not. Except she doesn’t, she’s not fighting it, she takes his hand, lacing her fingers into his, bringing a smile to the K'uk'ulkan’s face. A smile her retina barely make out, before they leave. This time, when Namor is leaping forward, or more accurately, upwards, she’s there, she’s suddenly right in his arms and he takes her away.

Chapter Text

And what a view.

That’s Shuri's first thought as Namor takes them away. 

Away from the beach and the sand and their usual spot. She could activate her suit and be able to withstand her new environment, the sky, a bit better, but she lets Namor lead her away. More than that, she trusts him, he doesn’t fly away too high in the sky, there is still some air on her face and he is not letting go of her.

She’s glad, she’s free to watch the entire world from his perspective, free to see what he always sees when he moves like this.

It might be night but there is no darkness, not with the clouds, the stars, the moon...no darkness whatsoever. The sky seems to be buzzing with electricity, she can feel it on her forearms and her naked feet, even with her arms wrapped around his neck, it passes on his skin too. That energy surely has a name, but Shuri doesn’t care about the how and why right now, logic and reason have nothing to do with that, she can feel it and that’s all that matters, for now, she is one hundred percent sure of it.

Opposite the sky, there is the sea, the water, Namor’s other mistress, and his other domain, the waves rise and fall and they glisten under the glow of the moon and Shuri can almost make out their own reflection.

That vision is perfect and she feels as giddy as the time she visited Talokan and was allowed to see his world. It’s just another facette of him, it’s just another part of his entire being and she wants to see everything by his side.

Everything.

“Where are you taking me?” She asks, curious, it can not be underwater, unless he has another suit ready for her, would Namor go to such lengths to spend time with her? Shuri suspects the answer is positive, she shouldn’t doubt it after all, not when he had claimed he wanted to just sit down right next to her on the sand. Seemingly happy and content to simply hold her hand.

“You’ll see, we’re not too far...”

“Oh are we?”

“Yes, hold on princess.”

To what? Shuri wants to reply in a very sarcastic tone, but she doesn’t however, she’s glad for the warning, it gives her enough time to plant her hands at the back of his neck, her thumb is already playing with the short hair there, and the other one in on his shoulder. Namor tightens the embrace, she’s still secure in his arms and she can make out another kind of smile on his face, his arms suddenly firmer around her entire frame, and the next moment, he goes faster. 

Namor is clearly not holding back anymore and probably because he knows Shuri is as strong as him, if not stronger, she had proved it after all. The very next second, everything around them becomes blurry. The night, the ocean, everything tilts on his axis, and Shuri’s heart beats faster and she can’t help the laugh that leaves her lips. It’s the same kind of energy she had felt going for her run a mere few hours ago, the same kind of fluctuation except more intense, except she’s not going through the motions alone and when she turns to Namor, he’s smiling back at her. 

He can feel it too, this time, neither of them is alone, and they can share it as equals. And even as one. That’s what Shuri thinks as she leans in, to kiss him, maybe she shouldn’t, maybe he could drop her and she could plunge straight into the ocean. Crash and burn at the same time. She doesn’t, Namor is right there, he pulls her impossibly close, crushing her against his chest so much that it does hurt in some way, but it is good, just as good as the reward she finds on his lips, in his mouth, the kiss is still as intense as it was in the first hours of the morning. Still so warm, still so demanding and again, Shuri wants more.

“Princess ...” Namor whispers in a dangerous tone, the movements of his wings have slowed down a little bit, probably because of her, Shuri is not sorry however and it’s probably visible by the smile on her face. “Almost there, be still.”

“Fine, but hurry up, you did promise me a lot of things.”

“I know, in yaakunaj, I know...”

Shuri doesn’t distract him for the next few minutes, so he can find his surroundings and his way again. She behaves, only to see that he is landing them on a small island, in the middle of... nowhere? It does appear so, and Namor urges her with a “come love ” and she can do nothing but follow. 

Her feet deep in the sand, her hand in his, she follows and Shuri soon realizes there is a path, and that path leads to a house. She’s never seen this place before, she suspects he has and there’s not just walking into anyone’s house. The place is his. Shuri wants to look everywhere and take in her surroundings too as Namor takes her inside and turns on the lights. There are not too bright, dimer than in any other place, and there are some paintings on some of the walls she’s pretty sure she can make out one of the gods Namor had talked to her about.

“What is this place...?” Shuri can not help but ask, she lets go of his hand, trying to look everywhere and at everything at the same time, stepping into what clearly is the leaving room. Namor doesn’t answer, no, he lets her take as much as she can in, and finally, Shuri’s dark eyes land back on him.

He really is beautiful, all dressed in blue, she suddenly takes in the fact that he is not wearing jade in his nose or ears but gold as well, just like all of his necklaces are less imposing than usual, but thin and delicate as well. As if to indicate that the god is not here to negotiate or to battle, Namor is standing in front of her with a shy smile for another reason entirely. 

“It’s mine as much as it is yours, it’s ours,” he confesses quickly, eyes focused on Shuri as if he wants her to see the same thing as he does.

“Ours ?” Shuri repeats the word, not because she doesn’t want this or this reality Namor presents to her, if it were the case, she wouldn’t be there and she would have not agreed to follow him after all, right? No, she tests it, tests the word and everything it represents. For herself, for Wakanda, for the panther, for her heart, and for her fate entangled in the god’s. It’s too late to walk away, Shuri is more than aware of that, she could shove him away, demand that he took her back and that he stayed away for her for another 500 hundred years so that he could understand how deep he had cut her in the past and how he still is in a way. 

Shuri could and she knows Namor would obey, without asking why, without demanding why. Shuri doesn’t want to fight, ours sounds so pure, it takes out some weight from her shoulders and she can finally, almost breathe like... well like before, before her life became a succession of losses and battles.

“Yes, ours,” repeats Namor, he nods, and he takes one step closer to her, still too far away, Shuri thinks, still not close enough.

“You built this place?” A question she already knows the answer to and as the god speaks again, he takes another step.

“Yes, it’s between our two kingdoms, the same distance from Talokan and Wakanda, ours.” By the end of his sentence, Namor has reached her, he is in Shuri’s space, and as he whispers the last word, that ours again, he has to lean in, slowly but eventually he presses his forehead against hers, arching down to meet her. She watches, as he closes his eyes, waiting for her response and for her possible refusal. Namor is nothing but a man in that instance, Shuri can see it, Shuri can feel it and it shouldn’t delight her to see him like this. 

But it does, it warms and comforts her, the sheer knowledge that she shook the god down to his core and she’s not the only one who’s been left shattered and broken by all this. Maybe he too wishes the circumstances were different (didn’t he already say so?) and yet, here they are, yet, Shuri cups his face again between her hands and decides that they should go back to not talking. Like they did all those nights on the sand. Especially tonight, with the full power of the moon, yes, especially tonight. 

She takes her time Shuri, it won’t last long, she is aware of it, and yet her thumbs trace circles in his cheeks, she then rubs her fingers against his beard and she hears him draw in a sharp and unsteady breath, still waiting for an answer. When Namor opens his eyes, she stares back, not flinching, pressing her nose against his, his hands fall on Shuri’s wrists, but he doesn’t stop her, quite the opposite, he’s pressing against her black skin, urging for more, asking her, silently to take more.

Shuri sees all of it now, he wants this as much as she wants this, she could take everything from him, more than the K'uk'ulkan’s breath and beating heart, his sanity, his reason, his hopes, his dreams, his anger. She could take everything and he would let her.

It doesn’t make any sense, and yet, Shuri knows the truth, knows she can’t walk away now so her face pressed against his, she does the only thing she wants more than anything else right now, she kisses him. 

Gently at first, her lips against Namor’s, just a touch, barely any pressure, Shuri repeats the gesture, once, twice, and the third time, Namor presses back against her, by the fourth time, they’re actually kissing, and they are moving and gasping together, in each other’s mouth. It’s too much too fast, Shuri is more than aware of it, but she doesn’t care, she can’t when Namor walks forward while kissing her, she follows the rhythm of this new dance, holding on to his mouth for dear life and she mumbles his name, as her back meets a wall, a bit too harshly. It doesn’t stop either of them, quite the contrary, Namor takes a few seconds to eye her up and down, to make sure she is okay and he probably finds nothing else but Shuri’s smile and her desires all over her face, she wants this, all of this. 

The next second, they’re kissing each other again and Namor is right against her, his entire body warm and too hot against Shuri’s frame and she moans when he trails a series of kisses from her left ear to her neck. Namor kisses then sucks the skin where her pulse is the loudest and Shuri whispers a fuck quickly followed by a gasp because her skin suddenly is too sensitive. For his warmth, his strength, his lips, and his tongue never stopping and tracing her black skin as if his life was depending on it. 

She holds on to him, hands buried deep inside of his short hair, pulling and not being gentle about it either, Shuri can not hold back, not right now, not when Namor finally lifts her up from the ground and she can circle her legs around his waist. They look at each other for a brief instant, and it’s strange Shuri thinks, feeling so small and frail and yet strong and powerful simultaneously. Yes, she weights absolutely nothing to him and the K'uk'ulkan could break her, and yet, he won’t, because Namor needs this as much as she does and that’s probably why he carries her away from the living room next. 

It’s messy the way they make their way to the bedroom, Shuri won’t stop kissing him, he’s strong, but not when she’s lapping at his mouth or biting his lower lip, he stumbles and almost drops her a few times and it makes her chuckle while Namor mumbles her name like a warning. It’s enough to have her rub herself against him the way he says it, Shuri, all low and promising, accentuating the only two syllables in her name and saying it like no one has ever said it before.

Shuri hits the bed first, followed by him, still towering over her with his broad frame and his large body and everything that is so godly about him. Namor’s mouth is on hers and he loses himself in another kiss, while Shuri presses against him, raising her hips in the process, wanting and needing to feel him, Namor is already hard for her, from barely any touching and yet, Shuri feels proud of that, her own heart leaps at that because it’s more than enough.

They both make a sound when he moves his hips too, which creates some friction between his still-trapped hard-on and her core, her dress raises up a little bit and it’s enough for Namor’s hands to trace both of her thighs, rough and possessive. The touches are so hard Shuri knows she will have bruises tomorrow, but she wants this, doesn’t want him to be gentle, she wants him to take her, claiming her like he wants to like she’s already his and it’s just another night for them. Namor repeats the motion once, twice and Shuri is the one to push him away, using her real strength, knowing she can’t wait. 

“You promised me something, didn’t you?”

“Yes, princess, I did.”

Namor is standing on his own two feet as he replies, she did shove him away with her panther’s strength after all and he probably doesn’t want to wait either, that’s probably why he starts divesting himself of his own clothes. Shuri follows his own movement, tossing her boubou aside and she stops just in time to see Namor take a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, seeing her in nothing but underwear, her black skin exposed, her breasts too, because she didn’t even bother with a bra. His own blue ensemble falls to the floor, leaving him in nothing but blue shorts, a hungry gaze on his face and Shuri feels no desire to cover herself, if anything, she wants to show him more. 

She wants to see curiosity, want, and admiration on his face again and again until he’s seen and tasted every single inch of her skin. She places her hands on her hips to push the underwear down, but Namor stops her, nodding no and mumbling in his native tongue. “Cha' in wilech,” he growls, making Shuri shiver and squirm a little bit on the bed, next thing she knows, he’s on the mattress with her again, right above her and his own hands replace Shuri’s on her hips and he removes her only piece of clothing. 

She has absolutely no way to hide, she’s completely naked in front of the K'uk'ulkan, completely bare in front of a god and it takes all of Shuri’s willpower not to cower away and cover her breasts with her own hands or cross her own legs. “Perfect... you’re perfect, in yaakunaj,” assures Namor without a single hint of hesitation and without any sarcasm in his voice. There’s adoration and something else in his dark brown eyes, Shuri wants to argue as much as she wants to believe him, but she doesn’t have time, he steals another kiss, then another one and she wants him so bad, it’s dizzying. 

She makes an attempt at removing his last clothes as well, Namor pushes her hands away, more than that, he pins them above her head while his tongue is in her mouth and he presses softly against her, enough so she can feel the weight of his naked chest against hers and his arousal against her own stomach. Please, please, break me and make me whole again, Shuri can’t help thinking, so close to getting what she wants. Namor has other plans, plans that include kissing her neck again, her collarbone, and the space between her two breasts while looking at her in a way that’s so filthy Shuri almost blushes, and then his tongue is laying flat on her right nipple and Shuri is breathing hard again. 

He doesn’t stop, sucking on it like a starved man, the result making a sound that is barely covered by Shuri’s moans and pleas. She tangles her hands in his hair again as he frees them the next instant, she’s too hard and too harsh again but that doesn’t stop him, judging by the own sounds he is making. Namor is exactly where he wants to be, which is probably why he eventually releases her breast, and gives the other one the same treatment, while one of his hands is cupping the one he just abandoned, wiping away his own saliva on Shuri’s skin. Shuri is left moaning and shivering by this man, by this god, watching him fascinated because he seems to be finding everything he needs on her black skin, why else would he look at her so satisfied as he releases her nipple, finally, and busy his tongue with kissing her belly. 

He even kisses the scar he left there, it’s almost too much, Shuri should push him away, but he did leave a mark there, with his spear, with his anger, and to think he is making it all better with his tongue... 

But he is, Namor is, it’s the best kind of torture there is, and Shuri is definitely not prepared by the vision of the K'uk'ulkan spreading her legs open and finding space between them with a bright smile. “I’ve wanted to do this since you asked me if you could see my city and meet my people,” Namor confesses in a quick whisper. Shuri wants to reply and accuses him of having dirty thoughts when she just wanted peace and to save a life, it all dies when he kisses her pelvis and she can feel everything, his mouth heads lower, impossibly lower. 

“Oh Bast, ” Shuri whines, barely remembering the last time someone had wanted to press their mouth to her damp core. Namor wants to, apparently, he’s been waiting weeks to do so and she calls for other gods beside him when she feels his fingers just run gently in between her folds. It’s almost too much and is quickly followed by his tongue, as Namor hums and spreads her open with his tongue, licking and lapping and tasting her. Shuri is definitely lost while he does that, more than feeling good, the pull she felt towards him is stronger than ever as he presses his face against the whole of her, his beard scratching her skin and its pure electricity and pleasure coursing through her as Namor just doesn’t stop. 

His tongue laps and laps slowly everything she has to offer and everything Shuri’s body has produced to prepare him for her, she briefly wonders how she tastes on his tongue, a thought quickly followed by nothing but him and his name as he hooks one of her legs on his shoulder, quickly and with another smile on his face, before he’s spreading her folds again with sure fingers. 

Before Shuri can not think or properly comprehend what’s happening, his mouth is latching around that perfect spot, and then everything around Shuri is a blur, she can’t think or see or perceive anything that is not Namor or his mouth around her like that. She knows the science, knows the mechanic and the words and yet, it has never felt like that, yet, she’s moaning and repeating his name like a fucking mantra because he’s the one touching her like that and responsible for the waves and waves of pleasure she can feel coursing through her body and that high. She doesn’t want to come down, and yet she’s shaking violently next, yet, she finds the words, squirming underneath him. “I... I... I need you inside of me, I want to come with you.”

Or more precisely, Shuri wants to come with Namor inside of her. She doesn’t voice it, and she is sure he can sense it in the way she pleads, barely recognizing her own voice and the sound she is making, she didn’t even know she could react like that or that it could feel this good. 

Was Namor what she had been missing all along? She doesn’t want to see it like that, she doesn’t want to believe in something as cliché as that and yet, there is something happening to her heart, she knows it as he releases her and her core and makes his way back to her face. The movement is slow as if he needs it to steady himself too, his dark eyes still on her, his lips glistening with something that is one hundred percent Shuri. She should be ashamed, really, she captures his mouth in hers nonetheless, because she wants this. Shuri tastes herself on Namor’s tongue and doesn’t pull away from the embrace, she does the opposite and her arms are circling him the next second, she wants him close, impossibly close, and she doesn’t care that he struggles a bit to take off his own short, all of that fades away when he is finally naked above her.

Maybe time does stop, or it’s just Shuri’s imagination or perspective, Namor is all she can see, hear and feel all of the sudden and all at once. Above her, the question in his eyes and she nods, of course, she nods as once more the god spreads her legs, his firm hands are behind her knees, he holds them up without any hesitation and Namor presses his forehead against Shuri as he pushes into her. They’re looking into each other’s eyes as suddenly they become one, Shuri gasps when she can feel the tip of his cock inside of her and there is no air that can save her as he pushes into her in one swift motion. 

He’s not her first, and yet it feels new and different, he stretches her open gently and when is fully inside of her, Shuri moans loudly. Because that’s what she feels, full and like she’s about to break, Namor is thick and inside of her almost like he was made to be just right there and Shuri can’t help but squirm and move her hips a little bit underneath him.

“In yaakunaj,” Namor whispers in the space between them and that’s all the warning Shuri gets, that and him burying his face in her neck before he moves. The next moment she is empty and then he pushes inside of her, being back where he belongs, and Shuri is left gasping yet again, left with nothing but him, inside of her, hitting all the good spots as he does.

“Do that again,” she hears herself request and moan before she can stop the words, and soon enough, the K'uk'ulkan complies and he is thrusting inside of her over and over again. The pace Namor imposes is not slow, far from slow and he is pushing inside of her with brute strength, moaning too inside of her neck, her name amongst other words in his native tongue and she is sure he knows it too. 

This is what they should have been doing all along, just this, Shuri thinks as her nails dig into the skin of his back, just this, she thinks as he thrusts into her once more, spreading her open. Making some space for himself inside of her, taking and giving and slamming into her, the sound of their two bodies meeting being the loudest in the mix of everything else. Shuri moans his name and yes all over again, Namor calling out for her and biting her neck. He is buried deep inside of her when he does so and she can’t help but raise her neck to his mouth and teeth, and her hips to meet him too because she wants this, she wants the marks, she wants his cock inside of her folds, she doesn’t want him to be gentle. Shuri wants this kind of loving, the one kind he knows and he has to offer.

She is sure she sees stars, literal stars, and other gods alive when he changes their positions slightly and is sitting up on his knees, between her legs, holding her knees up again, and moving his hips and pushing into her. Namor is watching the space in between their two bodies, where his cock is being captured and eaten in a way by her flesh, where she spreads open and welcomes him, and Shuri would look too if it didn’t feel this good. It doesn’t help that he’s suddenly moving too fast for her to even catch her breath or comprehend what's happening. She wants this, she wants more, Namor squeezes one of her breasts and suddenly is all over her again.

“I want to fill you up with my seed, is that okay, princess?” Namor growls right above her, he slowed down his thrusts, no why, it makes Shuri wines, and then moans when the word princess is accentuated by two precise moves of his hips, the last one leaving Namor right inside of her.

“Say yes and I’ll do it, and I’ll have you like this over and over again and maybe eventually you’ll carry my children.”

“Yes, by Bast yes.”

Shuri agrees of course she does, in the mix of everything she is feeling and the K'uk'ulkan still being inside of her, agreeing to all of this, to this future with him, it doesn’t seem so impossible and that’s what her body wants right now, what her heart is beating so fast for and what her mind is screaming for. So she’s nothing but glad when Namor kisses her so deeply, she is sure she is going to die from it or when he resumes his pace. 

And he was holding back before Shuri realizes, not the next moment, she just has the instinct to circle his waist with her legs one more and when he moves, she is reminded that he’s not just the enemy she almost killed. He is a god and Namor is smiling as much as he is moaning as he fucks into her and moves them in the process, Shuri’s body is pliant and follows this new embrace as he guides them up and down the mattress and the bed moves with them too and he pounds into her over and over again. He is having her, he’s taking her and no one else but her deserves this, Shuri knows this, no one else but her can take this. 

She’s close the next moment, he is too, she can tell and she wants to be filled up so bad, that’s all Shuri can think of and she tells him, whispers it against Namor’s lips, and kisses him. Shuri is not prepared when he sneaks his hand between their two bodies and finds her folds again, his cock is already inside of her and the movement of his hips is almost halted, he’s not moving the both of them anymore but he still moving his cock in and out. And then his fingers join the dance again and rub and... 

Shuri comes harder than she ever has, squeezing her walls all around him and scratching his entire back in the process, Namor, K'uk'ulkan, she says it over and over again, because she’s right there because of him and nothing but him and when Shuri takes another deep breath, she can feel him tremble and she knows that warm sensation inside of her is him. That’s Namor, he came too, almost immediately after her and he kept his promise, that’s her only thought as Shuri eventually closes her eyes, feeling every nerve in her body vibrates with energy.

He pulls out of her after a full minute of silence, nothing in the room but them breathing in and out and Shuri does it on instinct, crossing her legs almost immediately as if to keep everything of Namor’s inside, as she feels some of it spill on her thighs. She technically can not get pregnant, the implant she has is of her own design and is not likely to fail but damn logic and reason, they are not here now.

They are certainly not here when she can feel Namor’s arms suddenly across her stomach, he pulls her close, and still, Shuri doesn’t open her eyes. She can’t, not now, what if this was just a mere dream? What if she were to open her eyes and still be alone and crying on that beach? He doesn’t rush her, and she’s glad, she can feel his breath ghost against her cheek, he plants a kiss there, then on her forehead and the corner of her mouth next. That’s when Shuri opens her eyes, to see the smile on Namor’s face.

What more could she want, really? 

She reaches for him, stroking his cheek gently.

“Now, you can never leave,” Namor whispers. It almost sounds like a warning, more than a promise, it’s too much too fast and Shuri could accuse him of being possessive. She knows he is, but where would she run to now? Her fate has been entangled in his from their first meeting, from the moment he gave his mother’s bracelet.

“Neither can you, you big idiot,” Shuri replies, not scared at all. She wasn’t back then and she certainly is not right now.

He laughs at that as she leans impossibly close, inside of his space, enough that she can feel his chest tremble.

“Then princess, it is settled,” Namor concludes and he is the one closing his eyes next, Shuri decides that it’s enough for now, pressing her forehead against his.

Shuri doesn’t know how they end up kissing again, but they do. It’s still in the middle of the night and maybe she grew tired of watching his face or maybe Namor made the first move, she doesn’t remember. What’s important is when he flips her over, keeping her on her side, not facing him anymore, and when he pushes inside of her. It still feels good hours later and if Shuri is a little bit sore, she feels like it too, she doesn’t complain. She’s already addicted to that particular way her core and folds stretch when Namor’s cock is inside of her and she already wants to hear him say her name again, and she wants him to bite her again. 

She can’t do much but move her hips against him in the new position, but it’s all okay because he’s right there, Namor is pressed against hers and moves inside of her slower and gentler this time, one big hand covering and squeezing one of her breasts, his mouth latches itself on her exposed neck and Shuri closes her eyes and does nothing but feel. There is no logic to it, no reason, and every single time he buries himself deep inside of her, she moans his name, the name his people call him, his shoulder brushing against her, his naked chest against her naked back, their legs entangled together. 

Namor spills inside of Shuri again and again, she squeezes herself tight wishing she could keep it all inside of her, and they don’t stop here, they seem too engrossed in each other as the night passes and he did promise her hours and hours of just this, right? Yes, she recalls as she pushes him down the bed, Shuri on top this time straddling him and she’s the one sliding on his cock, pushing herself up and down, as he watches her, clearly in awe, both strong arms wrapped around her, his princess, mumbling praises she can not understand as she brings them both over the edge this time. He’s beautiful like this, Shuri notes, in the moonlight, pleasured around his features as she sits back down on him, his cock trapped inside of hers, all hers and beautiful.

Namor comes inside her two more times until she eventually drifts back to sleep. Against the edge of the bed, he has the strength to hold her right there and he fucks into her gently, so gently, building up to her orgasm, and she comes embarrassing fast and first but Shuri doesn’t hide, she remains where he keeps her until he’s done thrusting into her and come inside of her. And then in their original position one more, Namor towering over her, it’s messier than the first time, she knows this, he knows this, and he insists on kissing her the whole time, but Shuri doesn’t care, she’s happy when she can feel hot spurs of come inside of her and her face eventually finds the pillow and she falls asleep.

It’s a deep sleep, the kind of sleep where one would see nothing but darkness before waking up and when Shuri wakes up, her entire body feels heavy. Well heavier than usual and she stretches on the mattress, wincing as the sunlight hits her face.

What time is it? She has no idea, she notices a few things as everything comes into focus: she’s still naked, there’s a cover over her body, and she is alone in the bedroom, that much she can tell. No sign of Namor, Shuri is not worried, not at all and she takes her time, wrapping the cover around her naked body, she eventually manages to locate a bathroom, and she rinses her face, and takes some time to study her profile. Her hair is a mess, the top of her undercut is no longer defined curls but a mess of black strands she will have to deal with later and there is a mark, no a few marks on her neck, barely noticeable at first, but definitely, another shade of brown than her natural skin color and clearly left there by Namor.

Another thing she would have to deal with later. 

She still needs to find him and unsurprisingly, she finds Namor standing by the porch, facing the outside, the sea and the horizon made by the waves and the sun. Shuri wants to roll her eyes when she realizes he hasn’t bothered with any clothes at all, but that thought dies away when she sees how he glows under the sunlight. And especially when Namor turns to her, that smile again on his face.

There, Shuri thinks joining him, I could stay here forever.

Chapter Text

At least, Shuri thinks, the next days do feel like forever. 

They do, she stops counting the nights, and she stops counting the days, it’s a battle her heart, body, and soul have already won and all they want is this. All they want is Namor, the feathered serpent god, the man who makes her heart beat like no other, the K'uk'ulkan. That’s all that matter here on this island, theirs, ours he had said. Away from everything and from everyone. Shuri is not running away from it or from him, if anything, she welcomes it all. 

Because it’s surprisingly easy, yes, it’s easy to smile back that morning and let Namor kiss her all over again, softly and gently, while he asks her if she did get a good night of sleep. “I’m not sure I did,” she teases. “I mean...I did wake up alone and look what you’ve done...” 

She shows him the marks on her neck and there is a smile on his face, that’s his only reaction because surely he knows, he did more than just leave a mark on her skin, this is just the physical manifestation of their bond, of everything that happened last night. Namor did more than that, being with her, being inside of her, it has sealed everything for good, made everything less and more complicated, but definitely clearer. She is here and he is here, no matter the consequences, no matter what happens next, Shuri knows this for certain. It’s easy to hear him laugh, claiming that he should properly apologize and she is not surprised when he drags her back inside. 

She should get tired of this, Shuri thinks when she wakes up on the second day, Namor is here, yes he is here, his face against her stomach, both arms wrapped around her naked body, as he slightly snores, eyes closed. He had sounded at peace, while he had confessed that yes, he had built this place from scratch for them. He had some help of course, the ways of the surface were different that the ways in Talokan, but his princess, Namor’s words, was worth the effort. Of course, she was. 

“Do you really think there’s something I wouldn’t do for you? In yaakunaj...” He had whispered the words, right against Shuri’s thigh, before kissing her, his mouth hadn't stopped in fact, no, it hadn’t, he had brought her another orgasm with his face buried between her legs, in her folds, tongue rubbing against her entrance and not quite stretching her in a way she wanted to be stretched or filled. But it had been good, whenever Namor’s hands were all over her body, all over her naked black skin, it felt good. She should really be tired of this, but she isn’t. Shuri feels elated, content, and happy in a way. Yes, happy to be away from everything and happy to take a moment to be selfish. To be selfish about this, about Namor, about that man she doesn’t want to picture or imagine with anyone else for that matter. 

“What does it mean... In yaakunaj, you keep repeating it,” Shuri will ask later that day, as Namor seems to be particularly interested in the stove in front of him as he attempts to cook for her. Her stomach had growled underneath his lips, his fault after all, all of that kissing and fucking... she needed to be fed, despite what the god seemed to be thinking she was still human. Shuri rolls her eyes, a bit impatient, and turns the gas stove on, and Namor nods, thanking her and answering her question. “My love...” he mumbles. “That’s what it means,” explains the god and Shuri is staring back as if she is seeing him for the first time. 

Maybe she is, after all, he had built this place for them, he had kept all of his promises and he had even made sure they were more clothes for her. From his world but not only that, hers too, Namor had clearly spent too much time watching her, studying her, and what he had whispered while being inside of her the first night seemed to be almost tangible: maybe there was a future for them. A future with her pregnant with his child and everything at peace. 

He certainly tries to fulfill that promise too, that’s what Shuri thinks on the third day, they didn’t even bother finding the bed this time, Namor is naked, her hands are all over his brown skin, she loves tracing and exploring the muscles, loves to see the contrast between their two skin tones, adores the way he leans into her touches... She’s still somehow dressed, the red and gold dress she wears is preventing even more contact, she had loved all the details in it, but Shuri forgets all about it now, pressed against the floor, Namor inside of her, thrusting inside of her like a desperate man, like it’s the last time they’ll have together. 

She loves it like this too,  Shuri pulls him into a kiss, it’s clumsy, with more teeth than anything, but she doesn’t care, it adds to the rest, she wants to be full, she wants to be full of him, her god, her Namor and it’s the only thing in her mind as she is trapped in this embrace. He is inside and all over her and it only takes a few more hard thrusts, moving them both yet again as he is setting a punishing pace, for Namor to come inside of her. He always does so now, pushing one last time inside of her, stretching her, and making sure his seed is inside of her before he stills his movement and checks up on her. It’s addicting in a way, that sure thing, knowing what the god is trying to do, knowing how much he wants her and he wants this. 

It is addicting. 

On the fourth day, Shuri asks about the painting on the walls. His, Namor reveals without any hint of hesitation, painted thanks to decades, years, and years of caring and observing his people, watching the surface world from afar and taking notes. “We could have stayed hidden forever...” he whispers, brown eyes on his own art and the stories it depicts. 

“I wouldn’t be here if that was the case,” points out Shuri and Namor pulls her into a tight embrace, the kind that only she can withstand and only she deserves. 

On the fifth day, Shuri thinks of deactivating her implant as the first thing she’ll do when she gets back to Wakanda. She has to go back, she explains to Namor, as much as everything hurt, she can not run away from her duty. M’Baku is a great king, he needs her support, especially if other enemies come. “And they will come, they always do.” She mumbles, not thinking too much about it, but something passes on Namor’s face, something dark and threatening, and at that moment, he almost looks like the man who killed her mother. It comes and goes quickly, Shuri doesn’t question him and she certainly doesn’t push him away when he needs her the next moment. 

That’s the face his enemies get to see, it’s the end of everything and everyone that particular expression, it’s Death itself, and yet, she doesn’t fear it. Yet, it comes from the same man who moans her name in the dark, comes from the same man who kneels before her when he takes her to bed. Shuri is absolutely not scared. 

On the sixth day, Shuri wakes up to an empty bed. Namor isn’t far, in fact, she feels him before she sees him, those piercing brown eyes are on her as she takes the time to stretch properly. She is still naked and partly covered by the sheet, she doesn’t feel the need to hide however, there are more purple and brown bruises on her body than ever, and the man, no the god, staring down at her has spent more time exploring her own body that she ever has, that anybody has. She turns to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, somewhat dressed, not as naked as he was a few mere hours ago, as he was thrusting into her, whispering that she was doing so good and that he was going to keep her like this forever. It was a good memory and it had been an even better night.

“Going somewhere?” Shuri tries, voice light as a feather, a smile on her face as she is laying on her stomach, her head half buried in the pillow and half raised up to look up at him. Namor does smile, it’s short and brief, before his right-hand finds her lower back. It rests there for a few seconds before going a little bit up, his fingers following her spine on her dark skin. Shuri can’t help but arch into the touch, parts of her melt into it, and she wants Namor’s other hand to join the first one and for him to keep touching her. Just like that, absolutely everywhere, it’s an even nicer thought,t and something definitely tugs at her heart and coils inside her stomach. Because he does none of those things, but his fingers do linger, tracing circles on her skin as he speaks.

“I’m afraid I have to go... like you said, duties call.”

Shuri nods, because she understands, because this has been nothing but a break in her life and she knows she has to go back to reality. Go back to her sense, where logic and reasons govern everything, where she is needed, she can’t be selfish all of the time. That’s definitely not how a princess, his words not hers, would behave, not how the Panther should behave, and definitely not how she should.

You did promise me forever, the black girl wants to argue because those were the exact words the god had used many, many times over the past six days. She suppose he had been true to those in a way, forever couldn’t really be quantified, could it? It would be multiple days, multiple embraces, multiple times of Namor being buried inside Shuri so deep that she thinks they’ve always been meant as one, multiple times of her waking up like this, drinking in his smile and his now focused expression. 

He’s waiting for an answer and Shuri is staring instead of giving him one. 

“I know, it’s okay, I should probably go back to Wakanda as soon as possible, I’m needed.”

“We both are, in yaakunaj ... and if you allow me, as well as you king, I would like to visit you in Wakanda.”

He’s asking permission, Namor is asking permission to set foot back in her land and that does bring a warm smile to Shuri’s face, and she moves into the bed, covering herself in the sheet, so as not to distract him, (or maybe herself? It’s harder to tell right now), and finally sitting, at the same eye level as him, she nods.

“Of course, I don’t see how the king could deny such a request, and it would be good... for everyone.” Shuri hides behind the last word, she knows Namor can tell, again, in his presence, she’s being selfish, again, she takes everything from him, but it’s only fair, right? The man sitting a few inches from her had taken everything from her, and she knows, deep down, it will be good for her own wounds and her heart to see him back home. To see him there, at peace, to make sure war will never happen again between their two kingdoms. 

She meant it back on that beach, the promise had been traced and carved in the sand, and they both witnessed it. Shuri means it now more than ever because she knows how Namor’s lips taste, she knows how deep the wrinkles on his face can be when he smiles, and she knows how soft his beard can be underneath her fingers... She knows it as clear as day, so of course, she wants him back home.

He’s hers after all, right? 

She’s the one grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers next.

“Good,” Namor nods, his thumb brushing against her palm. “It shouldn’t take me more than a few days to make sure... everything is alright... but before I go...” Shuri should really stop staring at his mouth and listen, yes, she should, but suddenly, she’s distracted when he uses their hands joined together to pull her closer and crash their mouth together. She gasps, slightly, delighted, surprised, kissing him back the moment she feels Namor’s tongue licking her lower lip, at peace and at ease when she can be driven insane by the sure pressure of his lips, and everything she feels and smells. 

He’s overwhelming, there’s the taste of the sea, the dryness of the sand, and something so warm underneath her tongue, her fingers find his beard, it’s all him, Shuri ponders as she pulls away for air, forehead pressed against Namor’s. She’s almost fully in his lap, she still naked, she could make him stay exactly where he is and never leave this place.

He wants that too, she can tell, she can tell by the deep breath the K'uk'ulkan draws in next, how dilated his pupils are when he opens his eyes. 

“I have a gift for you,” Namor finally whispers, and sadly, he stands up next, leaving her alone on the bed. Shuri barely has time to register what he actually said or if she should get up when Namor is coming back. By her side again, sitting on the bed, handing her a box. At first, Shuri thinks it’s a wooden box, but her analytical sense kicks in and she realizes it can’t be, surely it’s made of vibranium. It opens automatically to her touch, all she has to do is run her thumb across it and it opens on its own. Slowly, revealing her gift and... it’s a necklace, Shuri remains silent, dark brown eyes on the new piece of jewelry he is giving to her. 

The chain is made of gold, slightly shining, and yellow gold, it’s thinner than what Namor usually wears and she supposes it’s for good, he probably can tell she wouldn’t want to wear anything too flashy. The pendant is what interest Shuri the most, it’s made of jade, that mix of blue and green and she can’t help it, even if she can, even if it’s her gift, she’s delicate as she takes the necklace, bringing the pendant closer to her eyes to examine it. It appears to be just round, a circle, but it’s not just plain, there are sculpted figures there: a panther forms one half of the circle, and a serpent adorned in feathers constitutes the other half. 

It’s them. 

Two halves of the same circle, two shattered pieces brought together by the hurt, the pain, their scars, Bast, the Moon, every single wave in the ocean, every single grain of sand on the beach... it’s them.

“I...” Shuri can’t find the words of all of the sudden, her heart is full of something she can not name, no, correction, it was already full and now it’s tipping over. It isn’t going to break, she’s sure of it, it just swells up and... It brings tears to her eyes that fierce emotion, that strong feeling, and the most rational part of her brain knows the name. 

It’s that sense of justice towards her nation, her country. It’s staying outside past her curfew to work in the lab with her closest assistants and friends, it’s reading Toussaint a bedtime story, it’s watching T’Challa roll his eyes at her as she convinced the Queen Mother to do something he wasn’t allowed to do, it’s Okoye telling her to get back inside because she’s got this and can protect the princess... It’s home, it’s love.

Shuri doesn’t say it, she can’t say it for some reason but looking up at him, Namor watching over her with somewhat tired eyes, she knows she doesn’t need to. 

“Thank you...” She whispers and of course, the necklace finds its place on her skin and if she thought she had seen Namor happy before, right now he looks absolutely delighted as he puts the box down and stares at her. Wearing his gift. 

“Perfect,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her mouth, then both of her cheeks, and finally her forehead. Shuri chuckles at that because suddenly he’s handling her like fine china, ironic when she had seen his true strength the past few days. 

“ Go,” she orders back between kisses. “Before we both get distracted.”

“Yes, princess.”

And there’s a playfulness in his tone as he says it, finally standing up and heading outside the bedroom. Shuri counts to three before she ties up the sheet around the back of her neck and follows. She has no intention of stopping him, she just watches as he makes his way back to the shore.

He’s waited, Shuri realizes, there are a few, three Talokanil emerging from the water, amongst them Namora, already speaking to her king. Shuri can’t make out what the advisor is saying but their eyes meet, and Namora nods in her direction, slow and deliberate, acknowledging her presence and saying hello. Shuri repeats the motion, because it’s a sign of respect and because it’s the right thing to do and parts of her are feeling a bit more at ease seeing trusted Namora by his side. Knowing she’ll keep him safe in life just like she did in battle. 

They all depart, they plunge into the water with such ease, no one can replicate that, she knows.

Namor turns to her for one last glance before disappearing into the blue as well. 

This isn’t goodbye.

It takes Shuri less than a day to be back in Wakanda.

Mere hours in fact, she still takes some time to leisure around their place, their home, taking a very long shower to feel like an actual person again. Her person in her own right and not someone wrapped around Namor’s fingers and moaning his name over and over again. Even though she had been so good at that... She finds her original clothes and her Kimoyo beads that she had abandoned on the bedside table after their first night together.

It’s all too easy to contact Wakanda and sure enough, Okoye is the one to pick her up in one of their finest engines. Shuri meets her on the shore, parts of her not wanting to show everything to everyone just yet. And she wants to treat their home the same way Namor had done a few hours ago.

Okoye doesn’t seem to mind, as soon as Shuri is inside the plane, she’s pulled into a tight hug, something she wasn’t expecting. She knows how fierce and strong Okoye can be, but hugging? It’s a whole different matter, she welcomes it though, it’s good and she can feel in their embrace that their strengths are finally matching. A welcoming change, because part of herself, her old self, had always been afraid of not being enough, physically enough for all of this. That’s why she had spent all those years behind any screen she could find, T’Challa would be the brute strength in the outside world, she would be something else, just as deadly. 

She’s both now.

“We were wondering when you’ll call,” Okoye informs her, freeing her after a full minute.

“I needed time.”

“I know, we all know, and look at you now...” Okoye takes a step back, drinking her in and her eyes finally land on the necklace, of course, Shuri is wearing it, she’s pretty sure there isn’t going to be an instance when she is not wearing it from now on. Okoye does frown at that and smiles a little too, it’s a bit unnerving and Shuri can’t tell what it means but Okoye makes a sound with her tongue and her throat, an “argh” that Shuri has heard throughout her entire life, she knows it’s all good.

“You’ve been busy,” comments the ex-general, sitting down at the controller.

“He reached out, I didn’t drown him back to his city if that’s what you wanted me to do.”

“That’s what I would have done, that’s what I’ve done.”

“What do you mean?” Shuri turns to her, sitting beside her, helping her fly the ship back to Nakia’s house.

“Talokanils... One of them requested an audience with me...”

“And you say yes I hope!”

“Bast no, we could kill each other, we almost have... why talk?” 

Shuri laughs at those words, genuinely laughs, because Okoye has that expression on her face that has always amused Shuri: she looks partly offended and partly about to end someone’s life with her stare. It’s familiar and normal actually, but also Okoye doesn’t know how right she is. Why talk? It’s not like she and Namor have had any diplomatic meetings underneath the covers. Well at least, Shuri doesn’t know any diplomatic meetings where she would come on someone’s cock, screaming their name, while they encourage her, both hands around her neck. 

Shuri is curious, however, wants to know who reached out but Okoye will probably keep that information to herself. So they fly back to the main island where Shuri takes time to say goodbye to Nakia and Toussaint. The little boy asks if it’s time for him to go to Wakanda yet, his mother reassures him that it would be soon and he seemed to be satisfied. Even more so as he greets Okoye the proper way, arms forming a perfect W across his chest, whispering Wakanda forever in a way that’s so T’Challa, that Shuri is sure, those are tears in Okoye’s eyes. 

They don’t talk about it, of course not, the three women share a hug and even Nakia comments on Shuri’s new piece of jewelry (I leave you alone for a few days and you almost get married... really Shuri?) before it’s time go home.

King M’Baku and his guards are here to welcome them. If Shuri is afraid it will be too formal for a few seconds, all of that fades away when M’Baku pulls her into a hug too, just like Okoye did before. “Ah, the prodigy is back home! The palace was getting a bit too quiet for my taste...” 

“Quiet? With you around? How is that even possible, great king?” Shuri mocks him as he releases her and M’Baku laughs, thick, heavy, and comforting, as he motions for her to follow him. She greets the Dora Milaje on her way, Aneka especially smiles and waves in her direction, before reassuming her position, as they all follow the king.

Kingship is suiting M’Baku well, Shuri realizes during their private meeting. They make their way to the throne room and M’Baku assures that they will be okay, just the two of them, before closing the door and stepping into his seat with ease. It takes Shuri a few more minutes, her eyes wander and it’s easy to picture her mother just right there, a few paces away from M’Baku’s seat, lifeless and gone. It’s all been rebuilt, very quickly at that and M’Baku follows Shuri’s eyes, wincing. 

“We can go somewhere else...”

“No, it’s okay,” quickly replies Shuri, ready to listen to him.

It’s all in her past, it’s her present and future as well and yes, she misses her mother. She misses her mother like air itself and it still burns and cuts something deep in her. However, now it’s easy to see how they were all wrong, how Namor had no other choice but to follow through on his words, and how very similarly, her own mother had no other choice but to protect her daughter, her people. When they were all blindsided by all of it.

She hasn’t forgiven him, but she understands.

M’Baku’s deep voice pulls her out of her reverie. He informs her of a few things, how his first meeting at the UN went, announcing that he was King and she was the Panther. Outsiders are still afraid, demanding to know what cause such a shift, but he gave them no answers and agree to come with the Panther for the next meeting. And he did reaffirm that Vibranium wasn’t for sale, that yes, Wakanda could and would land a helping hand, but it would never include Vibranium. Shuri nods at those words, agreeing with his firm tone and the role he’s taken.

“You seem to have everything under control...” comments Shuri with a smile.

“Yes and no, some of our people are still weary of another attack, we need to reach out to the people of Talokan... but I’ve seen you already did.” It’s M’Baku’s time to comment on the necklace and his eyes are much more intense than Okoye’s or Nakia’s, so much so that Shuri finds herself fidgeting with the necklace for a few seconds. Before she decides that no, she won’t apologize, for any of it, she knows it doesn’t make any sense, it doesn’t make any sense to her but accepting him, accepting the god back into her life had been right. Letting him make love to her had felt good and she won’t pretend otherwise.

So her hand leaves her neck as she faces her king.

“I did. And I won’t ask for permission.”

“And you shouldn’t have to, Shuri.” M’Baku’s tone is softer now and he has a smile on his face, he eyes her up and down before he sighs. “We were all worried about you, I can see it was in vain. You’ve changed.”

“How so?”

“You’re stronger now.” 

And maybe it’s the way M’Baku says it, maybe it’s his smile, but somehow, Shuri knows it’s the truth. All she can do is accept it.

Being back home feels good.

Truly, Shuri feels more alive than she ever felt back in Wakanda, back in her lab and she takes time to catch up with everyone. To tell M’Baku and Okoye she wants to train with them both, and they both agree to push her to the limits of her own physical strength. Hers and the Panther’s, they all agree it will do some good and help her better in the future. 

She finds her place once again in her own laboratory, diving back into old projects and previous ideas, the design of the heart-shaped flower is still somewhere in the mix and she asks Griot to file it for later. Her new project is all about increasing the defense, incorporating some of the things she saw that day on Talokan, and building another suit. For any Wakandan to use if they ever wish to visit the underwater city, if such fit could be possible one day. 

It could be possible, Shuri even debates it with Riri, when she calls her with her beads, keeping up with the young engineer and making sure she is staying out of trouble. She’s getting her hair braided as they discuss it. 

Shuri is comforted by the other woman's hands in her own natural hair, parting it and braiding the top of it because it is still short to the side. Shuri’s missed that particular feeling, the comb inside her hair, the karité butter making it smoother, the chatter all around her as her hair is becoming longer and past her shoulders. Strands of vibranium are getting mixed with the braids and it’s all good. All of this, it’s home, a new routine for Shuri and for the Panther and she knows she made the right decision heading back.

Namor is in all of her thoughts. Still. How could he not be after all the nights and days spent together? After all the promises? After she gets her new haircut, Shuri glances at her new reflection in the mirror and she wonders what he’ll think and if he’ll still call her beautiful or perfect for that matter. 

When she goes sees firsthand that the city had been rebuilt, and fast, she wonders if he too, will marvel at how quickly the damages he did had been wiped away.

When she’s in the lab she knows she definitely needs his input on the design for the new suit she’s building, if it will be strong enough for the current, the pressure of the ocean that deep, and if it will just do the trick.

His name again, or more exactly his title, K'uk'ulkan comes into the conversation the very next day with M’Baku. The king steps into Shuri’s lab to show her the message the Talokan sent and how they should proceed next. Shuri is more intrigued by the way the message was delivered, it’s another imposing shell, as big as M’Baku’s head, imposing, adorned in vibranium and when she puts it to her ear, she hears Namor’s voice. The words are for the king, all diplomatic, requesting an audience and informing him a party of five will be accompanying him.

“I think you should say yes,” mumbles Shuri, handing it back to the king.

“Ah yes, so you can spend some time with your boyfriend,” mocks M’Baku, all smiles, and fondness on his face.

“He’s not my b...”

“Shuri’s fish boyfriend, let me respond and informs the counselors and the guards.” M’Baku laughs at his own words and if Shuri could be embarrassed she would, maybe the title is apt but it’s not like she or Namor had spent any time talking or naming this thing between them.

That pull, their fate entangled together, that thing that no logic, no reason and no words can quite explain. 

Maybe they should talk about it, Shuri concedes, before going back to working on her suit.

Namor and his party of five arrive the very next evening on the shore.

The atmosphere is all tense and blurry, and Shuri can count every single star in the sky, as well as the frown of every single person present. M’Baku is the only one smiling, surrounded by his guards, the counselors are here, each of them, as a sign of respect, and Shuri is the closest one to the shore. Because she’s still their warrior, she’s still Wakanda's first line of defense if anything should go wrong. 

That’s probably why everyone is so tense, it’s the first time Namor is back on their soil since the queen’s death. A death at his hands, Shuri pushes the thought away, she’s wearing all black too, except here, it doesn’t mean Death, it’s not as grim, it’s to symbolize the Panther, her strength, her tenacity... Black is for all the new beginnings. 

And she takes in a deep breath as she sees all five Talokanils emerging from the water, and finally, their leader. Namor is the first one to walk out of the water and Shuri knows that’s not just the person who made love to her from night to morning, it’s the king. She can tell by the heavy crown on his head, all the jewelry, and what’s drawn on his chest in what Shuri would call white paint, except it’s clearly waterproof and she will definitely have to ask him about that later. 

He greets her with a nod when he reaches her and for the briefest of moments, he flashes her a knowing smile. That expression means everything to Shuri at that moment, it warms her heart and that’s the equivalent of Namor leaning to her ear and whispering: hey look, we made it.

Yes, Shuri thinks, yes we did.

He, of course, goes to greet M’Baku and the king is as expensive as ever, delighted to see the guests. He pulls Namor by the hand for a handshake that would probably crush someone lesser, she doesn’t doubt it. M’Baku leads them inside and it’s a sign for everyone to move as well.

“ Hello, princess,” Shuri is greeted by Namora next, in her native tongue but this time, Shuri is equipped with her trusted AI to translate. And thanks to the earpiece she designed, she can understand her, she greets the warrior next and takes in Attuma’s broad frame as he greets her the same way. Clearly not looking at her, no, he’s looking at Okoye, the newly appointed king’s guard as she follows M’Baku.

Oh, so he’s the one that contacted Okoye, interesting.

There’s a dinner after, it’s all official and it’s the kind of meal that Shuri used to hate when she was still the princess technically. Yes, there’s a lot of food, and there’s music and protocol to follow, but with those two kings, it’s interesting to watch. Gifts are being exchanged, Namor brought M’Baku an armor fit for the warrior that he is and that’s enough for them to talk about combat, Shuri knows the gift is well received, which could have been a problem in itself. It’s not, and she’s actually glad that Namora sits next to her, she hands her an earpiece as well so they can communicate and talk freely while food is being passed around. Nobody is asking her to be the Panther right now or the princess and it’s all good.

When the Talokanil takes off her underwater mask, Shuri has a million questions for her and if Namora seems weary at first, she answers with a small smile on her face. Yes, she can breathe on land, but not for long, she’s one of the most powerful ones, she and Attuma are, she can push her limits up to an hour without her mask, but being back in the water is a necessity. She even has a number for Shuri when she asks for her age, somewhere closer to a hundred years if Shuri wants to count and Attuma is the same age, and yes, of course, Namor raised them both. They have parents, already dead some decades ago and they were trained by Namor from childhood to adulthood to be the best warriors, to defend him with their lives if necessity be.

“Although lately, he seems to be the one doing the saving,” argues Namora, taking a sip of the alcohol in front of her, she makes a face, she clearly doesn’t like it.

The blue-skinned woman then turns to Shuri and nods.

“It’s you, you’ve changed him.”

Namora’s gaze is intense on her, the Talokanil sounds both glad and exhausted at her own sentence, and that’s another person claiming there has been some kind of change. Shuri can’t really deny it and when she’s about to reply, she realizes that only a few meters away, across the room, Namor is watching their exchange. Smiling. 

“He has changed me too,” concludes Shuri.

It’s late when she is alone with Namor. 

Closer to the morning than it actually is to the evening and they’ve both abandoned the meal, the dancing, and the alcohol around the bonfire. M’Baku is telling stories to Attuma, Namora, and the rest of the Talokanil’s party, about their ancestors, and about the battles Bast had thought. 

And then Namor had just given her a look, across the flames, maybe because Shuri had been staring, maybe because he had looked particularly beautiful with his hair slightly messy, he had finally put down his crown, his chest bare, muscles and skin glistening in the light of the fire.

Shuri doesn’t know, she doesn’t remember, she certainly didn’t intend to drink that much, but it had been funny to hear Namora complain and make fun of Attuma’s attempts to get Okoye’s attention. Apparently, Okoye had denied him every time, refused every single gift and had only considered it when he had proposed a fight. Of course, that was Okoye for you. Namora is good company and Shuri has more questions for her, but now it’s dark and she’s heading inside the palace, footsteps following hers.

And she knows it’s Namor, she doesn’t even have to look, she knows, her ears can tell, her heart can tell, every single instinct of hers knows and instead of slowing down, Shuri picks up the pace. Leading him deeper into the palace, leading him back to her chambers, because maybe they need to talk about what they are, but it’s been a few days since he had called her my love or whispered her name. 

And she needs him.

So Shuri puts some distance between them, everyone else is outside and she thinks come on, come on get me, as she actually picks up the pace, running this time. He chuckles, she hears it across the palace’s walls, low and deep, it definitely does something to her and Shuri is thinking of places to hide when Namor is suddenly there.

In one swift move, Namor is just there, pressing into her and her ceremonial clothing, trapping her against the nearest wall. The smile is still on his face, he has both hands leaning flat against the wall, on either side of Shuri’s face and Namor is so large, right now, it’s all she can see.

“Princess...” 

Maybe it’s the way the feathered serpent god drawls the word, maybe it’s because it’s been days and Shuri is actually hungry for it, for him, whatever it is, the black girl wastes absolutely no more time and she wraps both arms around Namor’s neck and kisses him. It’s messy because she also leaps right inside his arms, and their noses bump into each other. There’s more teeth than tongue but Shuri doesn’t really care. That’s what she wants, how could she think that she could be okay after not seeing him for a few days? That’s what he did, leaving marks all over her skin, Namor had made her addicted, and she is one hundred percent craving him.

Her own desire is dizzying, Namor’s tongue in her mouth surely doesn’t help, his hands leaving the wall to press against her back adding to the mix and she moans as he cups her ass through the clothing, brute and demanding. And so goddamn possessive. It certainly affects Shuri, because she responds in full, with the same strength, if not, more strength, she bites his lower lip and he makes a strangled sound, a soft whine she wants to hear again and she presses her mouth against his with a new intent. She’s fucking Namor’s mouth with her tongue, no finesse to it, and pushing back into him, into his broad, firm body, and switching their position. 

Shuri is only aware of it when it’s his back slamming against the wall, being trapped and kept there by the Panther. Shuri’s hands viring from his neck to his shoulders to keep him there. Where she wants him. Namor makes that sound again, as Shuri pulls away, just to have a proper look at him, at his swollen lips, his dark brown eyes on her, his face as he is leaning down to take her in. When he tries to move, Shuri shoves him back against the wall. She can do that, she’s stronger, at first glance, he would dominate the situation, she’s still so thin and tiny in front of him, but a sly smile passes on his face as she does so. Keeping him here, Namor likes it. Shuri is absolutely sure of it, so she goes for his neck then. 

She latches her mouth around his pulse point and sucks the skin right there. And Namor melts under the touch, making all those soft little sounds and whispering her name amongst all of it. Shuri doesn’t stop there, decides that she loves it there, against him, he feels so warm and so good underneath her tongue, she can still taste the scent of the meal he had, Namor’s own scent and something else, something else driving her insane. Her tongue is all over his golden skin, licking his jaw next like he’s her last meal, all the way down to his collarbone and back up again. Namor, who probably doesn’t need air, is breathing so hard, his chest rising and sagging, being too loud as Shuri uses one of her hands to touch him even more. Down to his chest, to his nipples, where the white paint is still there, she brushes over the sensitive dark skin and he hisses, actually hisses, pushing his head against the wall in the process. It gives Shuri better access to his neck, so naturally, she does the only logical thing. She bites the flesh of his neck, probably harder than she originally intended to, she’ll be sorry about that later, and at the same exact same time, she shoves one hand inside his shorts, wrapping her hand around his cock.

Namor moans her name at that, louder than ever, in the palace corridor and it’s the hottest thing she’s ever heard, Shuri is sure of that, but the next second, it’s being topped by sharp moans as she sucks on his neck, possessive too, some blood in her mouth, her hand quickly going to work. There’s already some wetness around his length, and Shuri uses that to her advantage, squeezing the head tightly and then moving up and down, along the thick muscle. She smiles, reeling on that high, the power she has, and her fingers around Namor’s cock. The weight of it is familiar and intoxicating and the strokes she gives him are not gentle, neither is the pace. 

Maybe having the K'uk'ulkan come into his ridiculous shorts in the middle of the palace is the best idea she’ll ever have, Shuri tells herself as she detaches herself from her neck to watch his face and every single wave of pleasure on his features. His eyes are closed, he has one hand on her shoulder to steady himself, his hips are following the movement of her hand and he moans like his life depends on it, deep “oh” and “my love yes” in his native tongue. 

Shuri wants him, she can’t wait any longer, she decides as Namor finally opens his eyes to lock them into hers. She only let go of his cock to drag him to his chambers. 

She honestly thought the first time in her own chambers, back home, would be sweet. That Namor would take his time whispering sweet nothings into her ears, opening her wet folds with his fingers first, his tongue second, and then his cock. Still with the idea of getting her pregnant. Or so she thought; She had underestimated the weight of her own desire.

There’s absolutely no finesse and nothing gentle, Shuri slams the door shut behind them and suddenly, he’s there, in her space. Namor is looking at her with a smile, waiting for her next move, because she’s leading them here, he’s still breathing hard, Bast, he’s still hard and the sight of him so big, with his shoulders so square, still looking like a fucking king with that paint on his chest, the wings on his ankles... it’s just too much.

She is going to absolutely ruin him and make the K'uk'ulkan scream her name until he forgets he is a god.

That’s why Shuri pushes him down the bed, why she kicks his legs open with her own and why she drops to her knees in front of him. Shuri is still rough as she grabs his hips and pushes the shorts down but Namor doesn’t mind. Of course not, he seems to have lost his voice momentarily, watching her in sheer awe. He finds it again when Shuri’s lips are around the head of his cock, as she flattens her tongue around the tip, doing the motion slowly on purpose, looking up at him.

“Shuri, Shuri... Shuri...”

That’s all he can say, all Namor moans and screams as Shuri takes more of him in her mouth, not wasting any more time pretending that’s not what she wants. She’s drooling all over him and she clearly lacks the proper technique and some experience in that particular position, but her doubts are soon pushed away when he’s all the way into her mouth, into her throat even, her face pressed against his toned stomach. The rest of Namor’s body seems to go limp, it’s too much for him and he falls on the mattress, still moaning her name, she must have done something right then. Shuri let him go in one motion, takes a deep breath, and just as one of Namor’s hands cups her jaw, she repeats what she just did, slower this time. 

Taking his cock into her mouth, inch by inch, loving the way her mouth stretches obscenely when he’s all the way up in her mouth. That’s not very princess-like, not very Panther-like but she doesn’t fucking care. It feels fucking amazing and Namor is writhing underneath her, like he’s about to die and she loves all the sounds coming from him and his lips. If she knew she could make him squirm and struggle for air like that, she would have done it sooner. 

Shuri repeats everything again, releasing him from her mouth, spit all over his lips and chin, not minding munch. Her teeth graze him at some point and Namor’s entire body shivers all around her and it’s fucking fantastic to watch. Gone is the mighty warrior, gone is the god, he’s just a mess, of painted skin, jewelry, brown hair, and her name. She doesn’t even mind the hand that he has on the back of her head the next moment, it’s comforting, it doesn’t push, it just stays there, all warm and big, fingers brushing her skull where her hair is the shortest. 

And maybe it’s that more than anything that almost sends Shuri over the edge, she’s been squeezing her legs so hard, hips moving onto nothing and as she pulls away next, she stands up. Shuri takes off her clothing in a few quick moves and they lock eyes as she does so, he sits ups, cock still hard and erect and it’s easy to find Namor’s lap and straddle him, and even easier to push herself down on his cock.

“Bast yes...” It’s too much, Shuri is aware of it, it’s too much and yet it’s perfect, she’s so wet and he’s so hard she takes all of him in one fluid move, simple and easy and so good it’s blinding. Namor’s face is right there as well, both of his arms wrapped around Shuri’s naked body and looking at her with everything. Shuri moves her hips and they both lose it, in a series of moans and more promises, Namor groaning, yes, my love, take what you need, in his native tongue. 

And Shuri does exactly that, instead of just taking in and out of him, instead of moving her body up and down, she just keeps Namor’s cock buried deep inside of her. It’s what she’s been craving, and when the black girl’s hips move, it’s in small circles, the motion just keeping him there, where she needs him, hitting all the right spots and stretching her even more. She’s so full of him, so full of everything that it doesn’t last long. 

It can’t, they’ve both been missing this and he keeps trying to kiss her properly and failing, it’s messy, just his lips and tongue smearing everywhere while they both moan and steal each other’s airs. Namor comes first, one hand on her back, the other one cupping her ass, but she follows shortly, a mere second after. She feels her body squeezing itself around his cock, for more shock of waves and she keeps him where he belongs. It works for the most part as he empties himself inside of her, dropping back down on the mattress the next second, Shuri landing on top of him.

The moment after, there’s nothing except their heavy breathing in the room and he slowly and gently pulls out of her, but keeps her on top of her, hands roaming on her back.

There are still some things Shuri wants to say and wants to ask.

But not right now, right now, she just closes her eyes and listens to his beating heart.

Because this is home too.