Shuri x Reader One Shots

Let Me Down

The Wakandan sunrise bathed the royal palace in hues of gold and amber, but Shuri couldn't bring herself to admire its beauty. She leaned against her lab table, staring blankly at the holographic screen before her. The message Riri had sent the night before still lingered in her mind: "I'm heading back to MIT. I think we need some space." The words cut deeper than any weapon ever could. Shuri replayed their last few months together—Riri's easy laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she solved a problem, the way she always managed to anchor Shuri when the weight of the crown felt unbearable. But lately, that anchor had slipped. Their late-night conversations had grown shorter, their stolen moments fewer and farther between.

Riri sat cross-legged on her bed at MIT, headphones on but music paused, her thoughts louder than any beat. She stared at the sleek bracelet on her wrist, a Wakandan design Shuri had crafted just for her. It glimmered faintly, a reminder of everything they'd shared. "You're gonna break my heart, aren't you?" Riri whispered to herself, fingers tracing the edges of the bracelet. It wasn't that Shuri didn't care—she cared too much, maybe. But that intensity, that drive to save the world, left little room for anything else. And Riri, no matter how brilliant or tough she was, had started to feel like she was standing in the shadow of a queen who didn't even realize she was casting one.

Days turned into weeks without a word. Shuri buried herself in her work, though her heart wasn't in it. Her lab, once a sanctuary, felt hollow without Riri's curious questions and playful banter. Finally, it was Okoye who forced her hand. "You are not yourself," she told Shuri one evening, standing firm as the younger woman tried to deflect. "If this girl means so much to you, why are you sitting here sulking instead of going to her?" Shuri hesitated but knew Okoye was right. That night, she boarded a jet to Boston, determination burning in her chest.

When Riri opened her dorm room door, she froze. Shuri stood there, drenched from the rain, her normally composed expression raw with emotion. "You could've told me," Shuri said, her voice soft but steady. "You could've told me you felt like this." Riri crossed her arms, though her resolve was already cracking. "And what would you have done, Shuri? Built me a vibranium bandaid for my feelings?" Her voice wavered, and Shuri winced at the bitterness. "I would've listened," Shuri replied. "I would've tried." Her words hung heavy in the air. Finally, Riri stepped aside, letting her in.

The hours that followed were filled with tears and honesty. They sat on Riri's tiny couch, knees brushing as they talked. Riri confessed the doubts that had festered in her heart—the fear that she'd never be enough for someone as extraordinary as Shuri. Shuri, in turn, shared the weight of her own insecurities, the crushing guilt she felt for letting Riri slip away. "You're not an afterthought," Shuri said, her voice breaking. "You're the only thing that makes all of this—me—bearable." Slowly, hesitantly, Riri reached for her hand. When their fingers intertwined, it felt like something finally clicked back into place.

It wasn't long before their words gave way to silence, the kind that spoke volumes. Riri leaned in first, her lips brushing Shuri's in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and yet laced with the fire that had always burned between them. Shuri's hand cupped Riri's cheek, her touch reverent, like she was holding something sacred. They stayed like that, locked in a moment that felt timeless, as if the rest of the world had fallen away.

As the rain outside turned into a gentle drizzle, they moved to Riri's bed, finding comfort in each other's arms. Shuri whispered against Riri's lips, "I'll never let you down again." Her words were a promise, a vow sealed by the way she held Riri like she was the most precious thing in the world.

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over their tangled forms. Riri traced lazy circles along Shuri's bare shoulder, her touch tender. "So," she murmured, a soft smile tugging at her lips, "what happens now?" Shuri rolled onto her side, brushing a strand of hair from Riri's face. "We figure it out," she said simply. "Together." And for the first time in weeks, Riri felt like she could breathe again.

The road ahead wouldn't be easy—there would be more battles to fight, more challenges to face. But as they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew one thing for certain: whatever came next, they would face it together. Because love, imperfect and complicated as it was, was worth fighting for.

A/N: I'm back! Yall miss me?

ngl I did go MIA for a while bc I was lowk getting better at writing.