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songficsbyrissi · 1 year

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The Fix (part 6)

Previously on The Fix….(click here for part 5)

“I think…..I think I l…..”

You turned around to face him with a puzzled expression, gazing into his eyes.

“You think you what?”

T’Challa shook his head and kissed your forehead. “Nothing. Just go on and be with him. That’s what you’ve wanted all along.” He managed to plaster a fake smile on his face. You weren’t really buying it but figured you had to. You said goodbye and walked out of the door. As you walked away from his office, you felt yourself tearing up and didn’t know why. What was the problem? You’ve gotten what you wanted, right?

Then why aren’t you happy about it?

************

You were back with Aaron. That’s what you wanted for so long. He was somewhat being more attentive than he was before. It felt like he was trying to redeem himself for the past shittiness. Your relationship was better now. You should be happier now.

But you weren’t.

You still thought about T’Challa. When Aaron was kissing you, you were lowkey wishing it was T’Challa’s lips. When he was hugging you, you wished it was T’Challa’s arms around you.

You missed him.

You hated to admit it, but you did.

Was it guilt because you were in a committed relationship, thinking about another man? Or was it regret that you took Aaron back?

No. You wanted him. Aaron was your man and has always been your man. This was inevitable, and both you and T’Challa knew it.

Should you tell Aaron? Should you tell Aaron you cheated? Well, you didn’t cheat cheat, but you technically did. You gotta be honest with him. You can’t start this new relationship, especially since he’s improving himself for you. It’s only right.

Yeah, sure, bitch. You’re just hoping when you tell him, he leaves you alone for good so you can have T’Challa, all to yourself and guilt-free.

You winced at your brain. No, that’s not it. He deserves the truth. I would want him to tell me if he messed with another girl during our break.

LOL, so you can have an excuse to end it? So transparent.

Shut the fuck up, brain.

You finally got out of your head and glanced at your phone. It was almost 6, meaning Aaron was on his way over here. To study, of course. One would think after a long separation, you two would be at it like fucking rabbits. Granted, on your end, your needs were being more than fulfilled, but him? You weren’t sure, but then again, he swears he was faithful. It’s a shame you couldn't say the same.

Maybe Aaron wasn’t attracted to you anymore. No, that’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t have come back. You two were kinda starting over, so maybe he wanted to take it slow, which you were grateful for, lowkey.

A sharp knock on your dorm door shook you out of your thoughts. That must be him. You opened the door to see your boyfriend giving you a small smile. You failed to return it as he pulls you in for a quick hug and stepped aside to let him inside. He started to talk a bit about his day, but you weren't listening, and you felt bad that you weren’t listening, but you needed to get this off your chest.

“Aaron…we need to talk. Well, I need to talk, and you need to listen, then decide what you wanna do afterward. I just need to get this off my chest.” You blurted out, interrupting his rambling. He looked confused, taking a seat at your desk. In the look of confusion, worry seeped through. It seemed like he was panicking on the inside, but doing a good job to look calm. He was doing a good job, but you could read people easily.

He’s probably worried that you're breaking up with him.

You wanted to sigh. You weren’t, but after this, you were sure he was gonna want to break up for good.

You sat on your twin xl bed, facing him with a sincere expression. “There’s no easy way to say this, Aaron. But I have to. I had sex with someone else during our break. I’m so sorry, but I have to be honest with you.”

Your boyfriend blinked a few times and let out a deep sigh. “Um, so there was another guy?”

It was your turn to be confused. “Yes, there was, but I promise I ended it when you came back. I feel bad, but you were gone and dodging me, and I know that’s not an excuse but-“

“Y/N…it’s cool.”

You could’ve sworn a record scratch played in your head. He wasn’t mad.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows furrowed with your head tilted. Aaron let out a dry chuckle at your expression.

“Yeah, well, I ain’t really happy that you did that, but I guess I deserved it for abandoning you.”

You felt like you were dreaming. Is this real? Is he being serious or sarcastic? Was he gearing up to break up with you viciously? What was his angle here?

You shot up out of bed like a Jack in the box. “Where is Ashton Kutcher with the cameras?!”

“What?”

You got close to him. “Aaron, I CHEATED on you, and you’re ok with that?!”

He groaned in response, which caused you to raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“I told you! I ain’t happy about it, but we were on a break, and you were honest. Girl, what do you want? You want me to scream at you? To break up with you?”

You were taken aback by this because what did you want him to do? You weren’t sure, but damn, it felt like he didn’t really care. You told T’Challa you were breaking up y’all’s situation-ship, and he seemed distraught. Your fucking boyfriend, on the other hand, finds out you fucked another man, and he acts as if you told him you lost his pencil or something.

Hell, you were beginning to think you would get more of a reaction if you lost his damn pencil!

However, the crazy thing is, you were somewhat relieved he didn’t blow up on you. It was a mix of emotions, and you were overall annoyed with it.

“So I fucked another man, multiple times, and it was GOOD, I mean really -“

Aaron’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Alright, you’re doing a lot. I feel like you want me to break up with you.”

You got mute, but after a while, managed to squeak out. “Well, are you?”

He finally stood up and took your hands. “No, babe. I meant it when I said I wanted us back. I can’t sit here and act like you weren't gonna meet and like other guys during our break. Like I said before, I ain’t thrilled about it, but it happened. We just gotta push through.”

You raised an eyebrow again. “Did you meet and like other girls? Because you’re surprisingly so understanding about this.”

He let out another chuckle. “I told you I was working on me during our break.”

You allowed yourself to crack a small smile. “I guess you really did.” You leaned in to kiss his lips, and after a few seconds, you both pulled away.

“I really am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. For real.”

“I know you are. Now come on, let’s study.”

Aaron was at your dorm for maybe an hour before he had to go. You barely studied, but it’s ok. You could do it later. It was a little past 7. Still kind of early. You resolved things with Aaron, and you had a nagging feeling that you should resolve things with T’Challa. You haven’t talked to him since that day. It didn’t seem like anything was bad between you guys, but you still felt a pressing urge to see him. You decided to pop up, so he wouldn’t reject you.

You got dressed in a simple, casual outfit and walked to his apartment. You remembered the number and made your way to his door. You hesitated to knock because what if he really didn’t want to see you?

You didn’t get the chance to knock because the door swung open, and there was T’Challa, clad in his black v-neck t-shirt and grey sweatpants. It took everything, and I mean, everything for you not to look down. He was stunned to see you, and you gave a shy smile.

“Hi. I’m sorry for just dropping in on you, but can we talk? Please?”

Unbeknownst to you, he wanted to smile at you, but couldn’t. In all honesty, his heart was happy to see you, but his brain was angry at your audacity to show up at his apartment after breaking his heart. But with those eyes of yours, he just wanted to give you whatever you wanted. The problem was…you wouldn’t let him.

T’Challa finally mustered up some words for you. “Y/N, now is not a good time.”

You felt defeated, but you should’ve expected that answer.

“I get it, but I just wanted to say-“

“Hey, T'challa, where’d you get that soap-“ a girl popped up from where his bathroom was, and her eyes fell on you. You recognized her. Nadia Richardson. She was a girl you had class with a few times, and let’s just say the classes weren’t the only easy things.

Don’t get it twisted. You were very hoe-positive and not a slut shamer, but this slut needed to be shamed. She flirted and ended up sleeping with many men on campus, single, married, in a relationship, you name it. She didn’t care who she was sleeping with. She was an attractive woman and felt like everyone deserved a piece of it.

And it seemed like T’Challa was one of them. Her first professor. She must be fucking ecstatic.

“Oh hey! I recognize you! Y/N, right? We had classes together!” Nadia must’ve seen the expression on your face and giggled. “Oh, this isn’t what this looks like! He was helping me with these upcoming finals! I was a mess, but he really fixed me!”

She was grinning now as if she was mocking you. Your blood began to boil, and you sprinted away from his door.

“Did I say something wrong?” You heard Nadia ask as you ran away.

You couldn’t believe this. He really was fucking her?!?! A student? So quick after you two ended?! You felt like you couldn’t breathe with how furious you were. Hot tears were pricking your eyes as you continued to stomp away from that disgusting display. You fucking knew it. He was some sick professor that preyed on students, and your dumbass fell prey to him.

You were not aware T’Challa had chased after you until you were finally outside, and he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him. He had been calling your name the whole time, but you couldn’t hear in all the anger.

“Y/N! Will you please calm down?!”

You pulled away from him roughly and gave him a huge shove to his chest.

“CALM DOWN?!?!! YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN WHEN YOU GOT SOME BITCH FROM CAMPUS IN YOUR APARTMENT?!”

“Y/N, lower your voice please let me exp-“

You shoved him again, this time, the hot tears fell. “I KNEW YOU WERE A DIRTY DICK PROFESSOR THAT WAS OVER HERE PREYING ON STUDENTS! YOU WERE GIVING HER THE FIX TOO, I SEE!”

Now T’Challa was mad. “HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, WOMAN?!”

You sarcastically laughed. “Oh yes! But I FUCKING FOUND IT! I should’ve never fucked your nasty ass!”

You turned on your heel to storm off, but he prevented that by grabbing your wrist roughly. You looked in his eyes, and you could’ve sworn you had never seen him that pissed before. You almost swallowed nervously.

“I did not fuck that woman! But even if I had, that is none of your concern! You ended our relationship to be with your boyfriend, correct?! So why are you still concerned about me?! Why did you even come here?!”

You finally swallowed and pulled your arm again, with no success. “I wanted to fucking talk to you! I didn’t wanna be on bad terms with you-“

“WELL, WE ARE. UNDERSTAND?! YOU CAN NOT BREAK MY HEART, AND COME BACK HERE AND EXPECT ME TO ASSOCIATE WITH YOU! HOW INCREDIBLY SELFISH ARE YOU?!?!”

That was it. He finally burst. You were still trying to register what he just said to you. Break his heart?

T’Challa’s face softened, and he loosened the grip he had on your wrist.

“I loved you. Loved you more than he did. I did everything I could to show you that I loved you, but you wanted him. I would have given you the world if you asked me to, Y/N. But you did not want the world from me. You wanted it from him. Even after you wounded me with your actions and now your words, I still love you.”

You don’t know what possessed you to do this, but you did it. You slapped him. Right across the face. You did it hard as hell too. He was shocked by your action. You were somewhat shocked by your action.

“You’re a fucking liar.” You hissed venomously. “You don’t fucking love me. You ran into that hoe’s arms right after I left! And now you wanna say you love me?!”

T’Challa‘s anger came back. “What are you doing here, really? Wanting to talk to me?! As if you care about me?! As if you love me?!”

“I DO! I FUCKING DO!” You shouted out, shocking him and yourself. It felt like something that was waiting to burst out of you, and it finally did. You felt relief, but you were still so fucking mad at him.

He finally let your wrist go completely. “I see I am not the only fucking liar here.”

His words cut deep. You were hurt. He denied your love, but hell, you did the same thing, so how could you really talk?

More tears fell, and you wiped them away, quickly. You took a deep breath and chuckled dryly.

“You know what? Go to hell and take that fucking slut with you.” You spat and turned to storm away, but you turned back to let out one more thing before completely walking away.

“And you’re right. I am a liar. Because I fucking hate you.”

You didn’t know when you got back to your dorm, but you did. Through the tears you sobbed while walking, you managed to make it to your dorm safely. You hated him, but you loved him. You love him. It took a minute to realize, but you did. If anything, you’ve been in denial about it because Aaron was all you knew. How could you let go of all you knew?

Maybe you held onto the thing making you sad because once upon a time, it made you happy.

You fucked up. You hurt T’Challa and yourself by being an absolute fuck up. In reality, you didn’t deserve him. You clearly weren’t the type of girl he should love. Maybe he’ll find love with Nadia, and she’ll finally sit her lil nasty ass down. You had it coming.

You were scared to love him, and now you lost him.

Amid your sobbing and wallowing, you finally noticed your group chat had messages and, before you could read them, Melanie was calling you.

“HOE!!!” She screamed as soon as you answered the phone. You wanted to smile, but you couldn’t.

“What’s up?”

“Were you not looking at the group chat?! Bitch, we're about to go to this party at GSU. You down?!”

You shook your head as if she could see you. “I don’t think so. I’m not really up to partying.”

“Come on, bitch! Let’s go! We gotta party one time before we really gotta focus on finals! We deserve it! Besides, doesn’t your boo go here?”

She’s right. Finals was about to whoop our ass, and Aaron did go to GSU, the college thirty minutes away from yours. Fuck it. Let’s party and see your actual man instead of thinking about that stupid man you still love.

You got off the phone to get cute, and your friends came to get you an hour later. When you arrived at the party, it was loud and looked fun as fuck. Once you walked, Mel immediately went up to a guy, and Cass went to go get a drink. Ari stayed with you, being just as asocial and anxious as you are. Soon after, a man asked Ari to go dance, and she looked at you for permission. You silently gave it to her, and she went on her way. Now you were alone. You sighed deeply. This was trash. You should’ve stayed in your dorm. You really weren’t in the mood to party.

A minute or two later, You decided to follow Cass’s lead and go get a drink. Maybe you just needed a drink or 2 or 5 or 10. You didn’t see Cass where the drinks were. You shrugged this off and continued getting a drink. As you were sipping, the three stooges ran up to you, with calm but panicked looks on their faces. What was going on?

“Hey, this party is actually wack. I think we should go.” Mel stated as the rest of them agreed with her easily. What the fuck is their problem?

“Yeah, it’s a Friday night. There’s probably another party we can go to.” Cass chimed in.

You looked at all three suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you guys? Your niggas did something?” You snorted before taking another sip.

“No, but yours did,” Ari mumbled under her breath, causing the other two to hit her. You didn’t hear her though.

“What?”

“Nothing, sweetie. We should just go!” Mel attempted to push you out of the kitchen while Cass and Ari followed behind. Once you almost made it to the front door, you glanced to your right, and think it was the alcohol affecting you, but you only had one drink. Were you drugged?

“Hey guys. Is it just me, or is that Aaron kissing a man?” You questioned, giggling at how ridiculous that might’ve sounded. When your three friends stopped, hung their heads in defeat, and sighed, right then and there, you knew you weren’t drugged. The alcohol wasn’t affecting you, and what you were seeing was real life.

“You guys…Why the FUCK is Aaron kissing a man?”

********************

A/N: uh oh! Did anyone see that coming? I know I did because I am the author 😇 I do wanna make a few things clear:

I do not condone homophobia so please know this isn’t the direction I am going in with this story. Reader will NOT be homophobic, and I’m trying my absolute best to make sure she doesn’t come across as so.

This bombshell moment has always been intended since the beginning of this story. It's not something I threw in for the hell of it lol. If you reread the parts and even this chapter, the hints were there!

That fight between you and T’Challa was whew! But let’s see how and if we come back from this! 😉

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theunsweetenedtruth · 30 days

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Who Hurt You

Summary: T'Challa, the esteemed leader of Wakanda, ventures into the dimly lit confines of a hidden establishment, not as a king, but as a man driven by his own desires. There he finds you.

Pairing: T'Challa x Black! Exotic Dancer! Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Smut, Animal instincts, praise kink

A/N: Originally written in 2019 (I think?) This was part of a phrase request, hence the bolded phrases.

He was back in the seedy club, dark with smoke curling around his face, but he kept focused on his task. On stage, he could see the woman performing acrobatics that even the strongest of warriors would be impressed with but King T'Challa would not be swayed from his mission. He'd left the Dora Milaje behind at the hotel, made his excuses to Shuri, and he was hoping not to run into Erik here. He had one thing—person—on his mind.

"T," he turned at the call of the shortened version of his name. The cute girl behind the bar with the freckles and pigtails grinned at him. "You looking for your girl?"

He smiled, tapping his fingers against the bar. "Is she available?"

"Yeah let me get you set up in your usual room and I'll let her know you're here." Bree walked around the bar and led him down a familiar dark hall. The red lights gleamed against her patent leather short shorts and T'Challa absently admired her figure. She led him to what had become "his" room, a private space he'd frequented since first being dragged to the club by Erik six months ago. A bottle of champagne was waiting for him but he was already struggling to keep his head clear with the remnants of her scent swirling in the air.

He absently heard the door shut behind him and his pulse raced as he sat on the bench. Just the thought of almost seeing her after a month of no contact made his palms itch and a rumbling come from somewhere deep in his chest. He'd been forced away from her city for business in other parts of the world, but after spending the day in meetings he half listened to, T'Challa just wanted to feel her against him, hypnotizing and soothing him in a way that only she could.

He'd tried to get his fix in the various cities that he'd had business in—top strip clubs in Miami and New Orleans, cabaret shows in Las Vegas, even the red light district in Germany—but no one could quite manage him like she did. He'd contemplated keeping her, flying her from city to city with him but he knew she was fiercely independent, a quality he loved about her. She wasn't looking to be saved from the strip club, didn't care that he was a king. And when he was with her, he felt stripped to his baser instincts, primal and just a man.

He heard the door open and she stood in the doorway, curves outlined by the red lights in the hallway contrasting with the blue lights of the room. T'Challa did his best calm the rumbling in his chest but the Panther wanted out, wanted to claim what it knew belonged to them. She wore a satin robe covering her body but he could see the lace bra peeking from underneath. He licked his lips and watched her track the movements and shiver.

"You've been away for so long I thought you forgot about me." Her musical voice rang in his ear and the Panther was clawing at the distance between them.

He spread his legs wider to accommodate for his length pressing against his leg. "Pour me a drink."

He could see the smirk on her face filling with knowledge; there was no way he could've forgotten about her. She'd made sure.

She walked over to the small end table, a swish in her hips, and T'Challa's mouth watered. She poured him a glass of the bubbly before crossing the room to him. He could feel the desire to snatch her into his arms the minute she was within arm's length but he held himself still. He only extended his arm to reach for the glass in her hand. He gestured with two fingers to the pole in the corner of the room. He wanted to watch her for a moment, give himself time to get under control before he unleashed the side of himself that he felt he constantly restrained. This—with her—was the only place he could be himself.

She stepped onto the mini stage, grabbing the remote for the music and setting the atmosphere with a slow, sultry tune, a favorite of hers, and subsequently his. She pulled the belt loose on the robe and dropped it to the floor allowing him to see the lace contraption that only seemed to hinder his view of what he really wanted to see. She curled herself around the pole and he watched transfixed as she moved through a series of moves that made his blood boil. Bending at the waist, she widened her legs and shook her behind before straightening up and unfastening her bra. She twirled it for a few moments around her finger, coyly looking over her shoulder at him before throwing it to the end of the stage. She turned and he could he see her breasts, perfectly sized for him, her nipples perked and ready. Her hands went to her hair and she arched back as if offering herself up to him. T'Challa passed a hand across his mouth, he was vibrating with the effort to stay in his seat as he watched her knead her breasts. She turned her back to him again, bending at the waist and sliding her panties down her legs. She was moving through her routine quickly, as if she could sense his waning patience. She tossed her underwear in his direction. T'Challa's hand shot up to grab them out the air, drawing them in for a sniff. He closed his eyes at the scent of her arousal, the dampness serving as evidence of her own impatience.

"Come here," he demanded. She stepped down from the stage and swaggered over to him. Holding out a hand for her, he pulled her onto his lap. "I think it's playtime" She giggled as she straddled his lap, reaching down to his waist to work on his belt. He caressed her ass, gripping her cheeks and kneading.

When his dick was free, she took him into her hand, pumping him a few times. The grip of her hand, small in comparison to his own was heaven and he slipped out a growl in response. "Please T'Challa can I have it?" He moaned and did his best to hold back the Panther but he knew his eyes were glowing yellow. She looked him in the eye, a tight grip on his dick still adding a twist of her wrist to the top. "Prove to me that you didn't forget about me." He nodded, panting and trying not to come too quick. It had been a while and she always knew what he liked.

She raised on her knees before beginning to sink down on him slowly. But the Panther inside wasn't having it. T'Challa grabbed her by the waist and tugged her down on him, slamming himself into her, all the way, until he was balls deep, the only way he wanted to be with her. Deep inside her, buried in her warm walls that hugged him a little too tight, T'Challa pulsed. Her eyes were wide, dark lashes framing the tears that threatened to spill from his force. When he pulled her up, separating himself from her, and then back down, she threw her head back and moaned. T'Challa savored the connection, it had been too long since he'd been able to lose himself in her. He snaked his hand up between them to press a hand against her wind pipe, careful to keep elongating nails away from her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moved back on forth over him. Their lips came together, caressing each other's and T'Challa was forceful in his domination. They bodies moved in a frenzy, never slow but hungry in a way that bellied the truth of their relationship: she was his but he could not keep her. He was hers and he loved the power she had over over him, but it didn't matter when he had obligations that needed his attention. She was a distraction that he let himself have as a reward for hard work, only to get back to work and long for the next time.

She was coming around him before he knew it but he couldn't stop. He didn't know the next time he'd be able to come see her. T'Challa thought again about flying her to whatever city he'd be in next. When he looked up at her face, she was staring down at him again, the answers to his internal questions in her eyes. She smoothed a shaky hand over his curls before tangling her fingers in them and tugging. It was just the thing he needed to get out of his own head. She bounced her ass up and down on him and he did his best to focus on her face, on her pleasure. His hand came down hard and she let out a moan she'd been holding back and began moving faster. Anyone passing by would know what was happening in that room; T'Challa was pleased. Who cared what anyone would think when you were on the brink of the best pleasure ever experienced?

"That's right baby. Don't stop," he growled out. "You're so tight baby, I want to feel you like this all night. You're my precious baby girl." He saw her body bow to him in her orgasm, felt her wetness coat his lap, but he held on just a little longer.

"Challa," she panted out. "I'm so full. It hurts." He kept going, feeling his balls draw up and his breathing increase.

"I'm going to cum in you and you will take it all."

"Do it. I want to feel everything." She looked him boldly in the eye and he closed his own while his orgasm ripped through him. He clung to her tightly, claws leaving slight indents in her skin but not doing too much damage. They were both breathing hard, panting and limp in the seat.

"I love you" he heard her whisper. He smoothed a hand over her hair and down her back. It was part of the role she played for him, so in love with him, as if she'd been sitting and waiting for him to return to her. The panther was appeased, if only for the moment. He would have her again before he retired to his hotel room, only to wake up, once again, as the King of Wakanda.

#unsweetimagine #t'challa x reader #t'challa x poc #t'challa x black!reader #t'challa imagine #t'challa fanfiction

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paisholotus · 1 year

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T'challa x black fem reader

Missed You

Summary: it's been months since the last time T'challa saw his wife.

Warnings: Strong Language & Smut.

Translations: Sthandwa( My Love) Ndiyakuthanda (I Love You) Ndiyakuthanda nawe ( I Love You too) Ukumkanikazi Wam ( My Queen)

3rd pov

"Just don't freeze when you see her." Okoye told prince T'challa. He smirked knowing who she was referring to and couldn't help the bubbly feeling he felt, at the thought of seeing you again. T'challa loved how she always put others first before herself, he admired that you loved helping people in need.

It's been 5 months since the last time he's seen you. He missed your soft plump lips and your deep brown eyes. He missed your warmth, and the way your body pressed against his. You have been busy on missions and him busy with his kingly duties, there just hasn't been time to see each other.

But at this moment he was more then happy to see his lovely wife again. "What are you talking about? I never freeze." He played offended. He crossed his arms and was dropped onto the ground of the Nigerian jungle closer to the truck that was secretly carrying his wife.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Y/N Pov

It was dead silent all you could hear was the moving trucks. There was no sound coming from the truck, but to not make any noise was a good thing. I heard the men outside speaking rapidly, about something that felt off to them. My heart rate began to pick up, that they were going discover me in here.

I looked at the women and children silently crying, whispering hushed prayers hoping that they'll make it out alive. I slowly took out my weapons, and removed the cloth revealing my face having the women and children gasp; them realizing who I was.

I softly smiled and put my finger to my lips telling them to be quiet. I stood up and tried to reach for the truck handle when a loud explosion blew everyone to the ground. You could hear the gunshots ring out. I tried looking for my sister but she was busy fighting the traffickers.

I went around the truck and started fighting the men. A large man ran towards me with a gun and started shooting at me. I swooped down and kicked him in his crotch. He dropped the gun and I went to pick it up, and hit him in the back of the head.

I repeated same thing with the other men, also shooting a couple. My sister looked at me making sure I was alright, I nodded at her and we ran off to fight some more.

I felt someone grab me from behind and tried to put me in a choke hold. I lifted my body up doing a scissor kick bringing him to the ground, knocking him unconscious. Then everything became silent and stopped. It was over with most of the men dead, and a few unconscious.

Then I saw him and my heart began to pick up again. T'challa started walking slowly towards me, but stopped and prepared to attack when he saw a man who was really a boy with a scarf covering his face. "DON'T! HE'S JUST A YOUNG BOY." I pulled off his scarf and the boy slightly shook in my grasp. "He was kidnapped like the rest of the women and children." He ran off running into the arms of his mother, who hugged him tightly and continued to say thank you to us over and over.

We escorted the women and children on to the Talon Fighter, I made sure everyone was ok and told them that they was safe now.

"Y/N." T'challa breathed out slowly. He had taken his mask off now revealing his face, that I missed so much. My heart began to flutter. "I missed you so mu-" He cut me off and pulled me into a longing kiss. His left hand cupped my cheek while the other one held onto my waist, while I wrapped both of my arms around his neck.

"I've missed you so much, Sthandwa." He said, looking at me with mirth in his eyes. "What are you doing here, my love? You messed up my mission." I asked him, suspiciously.

"I knew you would be here, so I wanted to come help. And before you say anything, I know you can take care of yourself; but I couldn't bare the thought of something happening to you." He said. Pulling me closer to him if that was even possible. I smiled sweetly at him and gave him a chaste kiss moving my fingers through his coils, we moaned content with each other's embrace.

We pulled away and pressed our foreheads together. "I missed you, my King." I said, looking into his eyes. He pulled my head down into the crook of his neck, and hugged me tightly. "I missed you too, my Queen."

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

A/N: Nasty time 😏😏

3rd Pov

The way his lips dusted her skin sent another shockwave through her body, she felt tingles radiate and all the way to her toes. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck as their hips rolled together, and she looked down at the bulge in his pants, biting her lip at the sight.

T’Challa’s hands slid down to her ass and gripped her so tight she moaned from the feeling and wetness pooled between her legs while he kneaded her ass, testing the weight of it in his hand. “Bast I missed you so much, Ukumkanikazi Wam."

T’Challa’s deep voice made her even wetter, and she moaned, at the feeling he was giving her. He nibbled on her earlobe, and she nearly melted in his arms, both of them whispering how much they loved each other and how much they missed each other.

He nibbled on her neck and lifted her leg onto his shoulder, tracing his fingers up her sides. He knelt down in front of her warm heat and blew cool air onto her clit, causing her to shudder. He then started devouring her like a madman who hadn't eaten in days.

She clutched his hair, arching her back from the bed, gasping and tightly closing her eye's. She let out a scream that echoed off the walls. Her stomach clenched as she sensed her release approaching.

As her orgasm raged through her body, T'challa pressed down on her hips to keep her in place. Her vision blurred as she gasped for air. T'challa cleaned her up and littered kisses all up her body, and kissed her lips, letting her taste herself.

He encircled her legs around his waist and placed their hands above her head. He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Are you ready, my love?" He asked, her. She nodded and kissed him so passionately that they drew back and stared into each other's eyes.

He pressed his throbbing head against her entrance teasing her clit, and pushed in. Eliciting a quiet moan from both. "Ndiyakuthanda." He told her, pressing his forehead against hers. She kissed his lips again and quietly said, "Ndiyakuthanda, nawe"

A/N: hope y'all like it. I never wrote full smut so I need to practice a lil more, but hopefully y'all liked this.

#black reader #black writers #black representation #poc reader #self post #black tumblr #black excellence #poc writer #tumblelog #black girls #t'challa x black! reader #T'challa #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #shuri x black!reader #t'challa fanfiction #one shots

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wakandaforeverwrites · 1 year

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Learn Ya || Chapter 9

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Author Notes: SURPRISE SHAWTY. Shout out to everyone that lowkey bullied me into continuing this fic some three years later. I love y’all for that. I kept the same tag list as before so if you no longer wish to be tagged, just let me know.

Amaya felt like her whole world had come crashing down in a matter of seconds.

She’d had her life planned out from the time that she was a young girl, and now all of those plans had gone astray. She could understand that her mother’s job was having financial issues and there needed to be cut backs as far as employees went. What she couldn’t understand was why her mother needed to be included in that. She sort of knew that she was being selfish about her true reasoning for caring that her mother lost her job, but she couldn’t help it. Her entire world had just been flipped on its head.

She couldn’t afford school anymore. The financial aid she had been given didn’t cover the complete cost of her first year. Her mother was going to cover the difference so that Amaya didn’t have to worry about the financial strain of school and could solely focus on making sure she made the best grades that she could. She was even going to cut back on the hours she worked at the centre to give her all to her academics.

That wasn’t the case anymore.

She had to come up with the money in a very short amount of time and she had really only two options as far as she was concerned because deferring a year simply wasn’t going to work for her.

She could either work more hours at the centre to get the money to pay the difference or she could take out student loans. Honestly, neither of them were stellar options, but she was heavily leaning towards the student loans. It would give her the money she needed right in that moment and she could deal with the fall out to her credit score and paying it back later in life. All she wanted to do was go to law school. How she did it really didn’t matter to her anymore.

“Is everything alright, Amaya? You have been unusually quiet tonight?”

She looked up from the plate of food she had been toying around with the last few minutes, pushing around bits of mashed potatoes across the ceramic, and saw T’Challa looking at her. Concern was etched into his features, brows sitting low on his face and his full lips pulled down into a soft frown.

She really should have canceled their date but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do that. It had been a few weeks since she had last seen him and she knew he was a busy man. Though, she supposed canceling would’ve been better than going and being in a sour mood the entire night.

“Yeah, everything is fine.” She did her best to put on the most convincing smile but the look that he gave her showed that it didn’t work in her favor.

“I do not appreciate being lied to.” The frown was still etched on his face but his voice was soft, almost as if he didn’t want to scare her.

Amaya pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and let out a small breath through her nose. She certainly hadn’t meant to lie to him but she wasn’t sure if they were at the stage where she could dump all of her issues onto him. Everything up until that point had been lighthearted and fun so it was hard to say if he truly even wanted to know. She allowed silence to settle between the two of them as she continued to push around food on her plate, lost in her thoughts. It might be good to talk to someone who could provide an outside prospect of things, and he might even have some sort of sage advice to give to her.

“No, really everything is fine,” she had every intention of leaving it at that but the way he lifted one brow let her know that it wasn’t going to fly a second time. “My mother lost her job and now I’m trying to figure out how to pay for law school.”

She hadn’t really said those words out loud. Other people might have said them to her, Charlie or her brother, and she might have thought them on more than one occasion, but the words had never once left her mouth. Not even when her mother had sat her down and told her the whole truth. Saying the words out loud would only make the reality of her situation settle in, making it that much harder for her to try and deny the truth. She had hoped that if she simply just remained positive then maybe things would work themselves out, but with each passing day, she could see that a positive attitude wasn’t going to work and that very same attitude diminished and made way for a more negative one.

When his hand moved across the table, she didn’t hesitate to slip her into his. Regardless of whatever mood she was in, her body sought out the physical comfort from him because there was something about his presence that had been nothing but soothing for her, even in the times he made her heart stutter in her chest.

“How much is your balance?”

“A lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“$19,980. I gave them $20 so they would stop calling me for a few days but really I just think the lady felt bad for me when I started crying on the phone. Half of that needs to be paid by the end of next week.” Again, she had thought about her situation plenty of times but saying it out loud only made it that much more daunting for her.

“I will take care of it.” His tone was so final as he squeezed her hand.

“T’Challa, no. I can’t ask you to do that.” The very last thing she wanted him to think was that she had only told him in hopes that he would pay for it.

“It is a good thing you are not asking and I am offering.”

“I mean I get that but I’m still saying no.”

“It is also a good thing I am not seeking your permission on this.”

Amaya rolled her eyes and kissed her teeth. “Now is not the time to be playing that little game where you need to have control over everything. This is serious and it’s too much money for you to pay and I can’t pay you back,”

“You will not need to pay me back. Consider it an early graduation gift if that will help you feel better about accepting the money.”

“I don’t need you to do that. I can figure something out.” She made a face and could start to feel herself get defensive.

The logical part of her knew that he was only doing this out of the kindness of his heart and not because he thought she couldn’t do it on her own (which they both know that she couldn’t). But there was also some jaded part of her that felt like he was doing it because he expected something in return. Sex maybe.

Of course there had been indications that the two of them were sexually attracted to each other, anyone on the outside looking in could see that, but he hadn’t given her any reason to believe that was the one and only thing that he was after. It was yet another thing she had to remind herself that set him apart from the men she had dealt with in the past. Particularly Rod.

“Come here.” A frown had once again settled onto his face as she pulled her hand away from his.

“You can’t just distract me with whatever you’re going to try and do.”

“Amaya,” her name was a rough warning on his tongue that she felt right between her thighs. What was wrong with her that him being even a little stern with her was making her wet? “Come here. I won’t tell you again.”

She watched as he pushed his chair away from the table a little bit. Any other time she would’ve pushed the boundaries a little bit more, trying to see just how much she was able to get away with, but she didn’t have the energy. She mirrored his actions and stood up from her own chair, rounding the table to stand in front of him. She wasn’t standing long before she found herself being pulled down into his lap.

A shuddering breath left her lips when a large hand rested against the bit of thigh exposed by her dress. A distraction and damn if it wasn’t working.

“Why is it so hard for you to accept my help?” She could barely think with the way his thumb traced back and forth across her skin.

“Because I don’t want you thinking I told you so you would help me.”

“If you are going to be someone in my life then you should expect to be taken care of in all aspects of your life, Amaya.” She had to admit that he did have a way with words but she could tell that he wasn’t just saying them for show. He meant them.

“I don’t think I know how to let people do things like this for me.” Amaya prided herself on being an independent woman. Of course, her mother and her family were there if and when she needed to help but no one outside of that circle really did anything to take care of her.

“I can teach you.”

————-

The rest of the dinner had placed Amaya in much better spirits and a lot of that was due in part to T’Challa keeping her in his lap with an arm wrapped around her waist as he held her close. The two of them fell back into their usual back and forth banter with ease. It was nice to not have to worry about whether or not she was going to be able to attend school or not.

She had never been so grateful to be called into work on a random Tuesday morning. Without that, she would’ve never met him and she would currently be shit out luck, probably forced to drop out of school because Rod certainly didn’t have an odd $20,000 laying around to help her out.

She still hadn’t agreed to let him pay for her first year but she also wasn’t fighting him on it either. She would sleep on it for a few days, telling him she would give him an answer in a few days time. He had been reluctant but he agreed, albeit begrudgingly.

The night was coming to a close and she felt an almost loss at knowing that he would be leaving in the morning and hadn’t really given her a time frame on when he would be back.

Her key twisted in the lock of her front door but she didn’t open it. Instead, she cleared her throat and mustered up all of her courage, putting on her proverbial big girl panties as she turned to look at him. “Did you want to…I don’t know like come in or something?”

Even in trying to make it sound like no big deal, her voice cracked.

“I would love to but I do fly out early tomorrow morning.” She was happy that he sounded sad about the fact but she had no intention of letting up.

“I know I know. It’s just Charlie isn’t home and I really don’t wanna be home alone, Sir.” She rocked back and forth from one foot to the other, looking up at him with what she could only hope was a look of helplessness.

T’Challa made a soft sound like a hum as he hooked his finger underneath her chin. “You call me that and think I’m just supposed to give in to you whatever you want.”

“I do.”

“I could tell you no right now. Don’t forget that, Amaya.” Despite the half grin forming on his lips, he gripped her chin a little tighter.

“I know you could, but do you wanna know what I think?” His fingers left her chin in order for his hand to cup the side of her face. Her body wasted no time leaning into his touch.

“Enlighten me, beautiful.”

“I think you don’t want to say no. I think you want to come in as much as I want you to come in. You just wanna play hard to get.” She reached behind her and opened her front door.

“I’m playing hard to get?” He chuckled softly as his brows lifted.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “You definitely are and you need to cut it out before it gets you in trouble.”

She took one step back and then another, finding that he was following her back into her apartment. The way kept his eyes on her as he pulled her keys from the door and kicked it closed before flipping the lock, had her chewing on the inside of her cheek. She found that she loved having his attention solely on her.

“You and your mouth.” His thumb ran across her bottom lip and it took every ounce of strength that she had to resist the urge to pull the digit into her mouth. “Always pushing your limits.”

“You like it or else you would’ve made it so I couldn’t sit down for a week by now.”

“The night is still young.”

Taking his hand from the side of her face, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist to guide him to her bedroom. The voice in the back of head was telling her that she needed to get herself under control. She hadn’t invited him up because she wanted to jump his bones. She really had invited him because she didn’t want to be alone for the night, and she wanted to spend what little time she did have left with him.

When she pushed open the door to her bedroom, she was grateful that she had cleaned up some before she left. Any other time, her room would have been in shambles with clothes and shoes thrown all over the place in her attempt to find something suitable to wear. Instead, it was just the small desk in the corner of her room that was a mess with books and papers haphazardly thrown across the top, and her bed that she had forgotten to make.

Her room was small and his large presence made it seem that much smaller.

“I’m gonna get changed but could you unzip my dress for me?” She could easily reach the zipper herself but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun. When she turned and pulled her braids over her shoulder, she felt his presence behind her.

T’Challa said nothing as one hand ghosted up her arm and the other wrapped around the small zipper and pulled it down slowly. Amaya swore her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest and it didn’t get any better when she felt his lips trail along the skin of her shoulder. She inhaled sharply. His fingers pushed down the thin straps of her dress and her hands instinctively came up to hold the dress in place before it hit the ground.

She talked a big game and had no problem teasing him but she wasn’t so sure that she wanted to drop her dress and stand in front of him in just a pair of panties just yet.

When his lips pressed the shell of her ear, her eyes fluttered and she let out a small sound despite her best efforts to remain calm. It had been far too long since someone had touched her, played with her body until her mind went fuzzy and she couldn’t think, and it showed.

“Go change before I forget that I would like to be a gentleman tonight.”

She wondered what might happen if she told him she didn’t want him to be a gentleman, but something was telling her that she wasn’t quite ready for that. T’Challa seemed like a man who knew exactly what he was doing with far more years of experience than she had. She didn’t want to write a check that her ass couldn’t cash.

“Right,” she nodded her head and stepped away from him.

She practically scurried out of the room with her pajamas in hand. She knew if she had stayed in her bedroom for one second longer, she would have easily given in to the x rated thoughts that had been swarming in her head. The magnetic pull that man had over her body was insane. Scary. Thrilling. And more than just a little erotic.

She had never wanted to fuck someone so badly in her life. It was to the point that if he asked, she would be hard pressed to say no, but she truly did what to take things slow with him. She wanted to be sure that they had something that went beyond just the very apparent physical connection and attraction.

And she didn’t want him to think she was a whore.

Amaya used her night time routine as a means to distract herself, probably taking far longer than she needed to, but she needed to give her body all the time that it needed to cool down. By the time she had gone through the steps, her body was still on edge but only just barely. She was sure she would be able to keep her hormones in check.

Or so she had thought before she stepped back into her bedroom to see T’Challa sitting up against her pillows with her civil procedures book in his hand. It would have been fine for her, nothing she wouldn’t have been able to handle if he hadn’t stripped down to his boxer briefs and nothing else. .

This man was going to be the death of her.

“You just made yourself right at home I see.” She gave him a pointed look before she shoved her clothes into her hamper. She just needed to distract and deflect so nothing got out of hand.

“Well, you can only leave a man to his own devices for so long before he starts to get bored.” The smirk he gave her when he looked up from the book had her grinning back at him like an idiot.

“I see that.” She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him and pulled the book from his hands. “I don’t think this is how you want to cure your boredom though.”

“Do you have any suggestions then?”

“I have a few, but you have to leave so early in the morning and I would hate to keep you up all night, y’know?” She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling as he laughed.

She dropped the book back off on her desk before she flopped down on her back onto her bed.

“Lay down before your mouth lands you into some trouble you can’t handle, Amaya.” He shook his head.

She had no doubt that she would find herself getting into some trouble at some point with him but tonight wasn’t going to be the night for that. Crawling into bed, she laid on her side with a hand curled underneath her chin so she could face him. He wasted no time in mirroring her actions minus the hand under his chin.

“Do you know when you might be able to come back?”

“Unfortunately, no I don’t. There are quite a few things back home that I will need to take care of before I can get away again.” His hand reached out and his thumb moved along her cheek.

She figured that he was a busy man but she’d had a sliver of hope that he would be back sooner rather than later. It was getting harder and harder each time to only have an afternoon or a few hours a night with him at a time before he disappeared for an extended period of times. Phone calls could only do so much.

She really did like having him around.

“Don’t look so sad,” she wasn’t aware that she had started to frown until he pointed it out. “I’ll still make sure to call you every day.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it is nice hearing from you every day but actually seeing you more often would be even better.” She shrugged her shoulders and toyed with the ring that hung from the chain around his neck. When she looked up there was something of a smug smile on his lips. “What?”

“If I didn’t know any better I would think you had a thing for me.”

“You’re alright I guess.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Oh I’m just alright? I guess I should go somewhere where I will be appreciated then.” He started to roll over to get out of bed before she caught his arm.

She pressed her body into his and buried her face into his chest, inhaling his scent gently. “Don’t go.”

His arms wrapped around her tightly, holding her close, as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m right here, baby girl.”

Tag List: @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @rose-bliss @theunsweetenedtruth@cancerianprincess @aykanna@supersizemeplz@ayellepea @Ijstraightnochaser @chaneajoyyy@vanitykocaine @slimmiyagi @purple-apricots@justanotherloveaffair@beautifulqueenflaws@hotthrow@90sinspiredgirl@hidden-treasures21@marvelpotterlove@depressionandfandomsinc@theblulife @airis-paris14@blackchickfics @skysynclair19 @jusanarae57@leahnicole1219 @blackdesires-blog @voyagetoadinas9 @lalapalooza718 @blackpinup22 @chefjessypooh @tntnv @jennajai@erikstan4ever @raysunshine78 @determinednot2fall @tchallasbabymama @prettystringbean @kissmyafropuff @blowmymbackout @wakanda-inspired

#black panther smut #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagine #black panther fluff #black panther fic #tchalla fanfiction #tchalla fanfic #t'challa x oc #t'challa imagine #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa fanfic #t'challa smut #series: learn ya

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 2 years

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Are we dressing up for Wakanda Forever?

I might wear all black because I'm sad lol

#black panther fandom #wakanda forever #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagine #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #erik killmonger imagine #black panther killmonger #erik x reader #t'challa fic #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa #mbaku #mbaku imagine #shuri udaku

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chaneajoyyy · 2 years

Note

Do you know of any Halloween/fall M’Baku or T’Challa fics?

M'BAKU / T'CHALLA HALLOWEEN/FALL FICS

M'BAKU HALLOWEEN/FALL FICS

shadows in the closet- @supersizemeplz

risky dreams- @eerythingisshaka

wakanda as warewolves imagines, wakandan supernatural au’s/imagines, willing heart, your worst nightmare- @youreallyshouldtalkmore

the arrival series- @muse-of-mbaku

girl of his dreams- @tchallasbabymama

T'CHALLA HALLOWEEN/FALL FICS

three king of dreams (ft. erik and m’baku (for christmas but still a little spooky), a single prick series- @supersizemeplz

fictober 27 “remember, you have to remember”; “fictober 29″ at least it can’t get any worse”- @eerythingisshaka

wakanda as warewolves imagines, wakandan supernatural au’s/imagines, your worst nightmare, noble intentions- @youreallyshouldtalkmore

ever after- @wakandan-flowerz

crossroads blues @tchallasbabymama

howl- @hearteyes-for-killmonger

***IF YOU HAVE OR KNOW ANYONE WHO HAS M'BAKU AND T'CHALLA HALLOWEEN/FALL FICS PLEASE HIT MY LINE SO I CAN ADD!!!***

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theflashzoom · 1 year

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BLACK PANTHER: NSFW PROFILE

Rating: Mature

Category: M/F

Relationship: Clint Barton x Reader

Words Counts: 623

Character: Clint Barton, Reader

Summary:

The King of Wakanda would request you to be your queen. In order to fulfill his achievement and love, you must understand the needs and requirements in order to impress the heart of the Black Panther.🐾

#t'challa #black panther #marvel comics #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa x reader #t'challa smut #black panther fanfiction #black panther x reader #black panther smut #t'challa fic #black panther fics #a03 stuff #a03 link #a03 fanfic #marvel fanfiction #the avengers

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tallulahchanel · 8 months

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I've been moving, adjusting to my new apartment, working on my podcast and book, but I really need to update a fic, I'm not sure which one.

#fanfction #fanfic writing #black panther fanfiction #T'Challa fanfiction #t'challa #T'Challa x oc #black panther x oc #nakia fanfiction #nakia #nakia & oc #nakia & kya #kya shauku #kia & kya forever series

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tchallasbabymama · 1 year

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Ménage à Trois Part Deux: Chapter One

Hey there! Mholo! Sawubona! What’s been up??? I know y’all missed me, and I missed y’all too. I think I’m figuring out the whole work/life balance thing a little better, but I still have less time to write than I used to. That being said, it might take longer than before, but I just couldn’t wait to start this series finally! For those of you who are new here, welcome, and check out the first part of this series HERE before you read part 2. Also, check out my masterlist HERE to see my other stories.

Your feedback is always appreciated, so leave comments and please, please, PLEASE reblog if you like what you read. As always, just let me know if you want to be added to this taglist, and ENJOY!😘

Word count: 5,023

T’Challa looked out over the bustling Golden City and tapped his long, slender fingers against the side of his leg. An annoyed grimace tightened his handsome face while his eyes frantically searched the skies for even the tiniest hint of movement from the west. Even though the king desperately wanted to pace around the room, he stood still while his tailor put the finishing touches on his suit for the night. His agitation grew as the time ticked on, but despite his less-than-pleasant mood, he couldn’t help but admire himself in the mirror when he caught a glimpse of his reflection. The embroidered black ensemble he chose for the occasion covered his streamlined body like running water. The locs that usually dusted his jawbone were twisted back into an elaborate bejeweled bun, and he looked every bit a king.

A knock at the door eased T’Challa’s anxious mind for a second until his younger sister swept into the room in her suit that mirrored his, just with a silky golden scarf draped across her shoulders. T’Challa’s own shoulders slumped with disappointment, but he pivoted to positivity quickly enough for Shuri to miss his initial reaction.

“Look at you copying your big brother,” he teased her.

Shuri rolled her eyes as she crossed the room, but she still dapped him up in their special way. He was still her favorite person, no matter how much he annoyed her.

“Whatever,” she sucked her teeth. “I wear it better than you.”

“Who lied and told you that?”

“Zora. And she’s about as honest as they come!”

T’Challa’s jaw tightened at the mention of her name.

“Where is she, anyway?”

“Late,” grumbled the king.

“I should have known,” Shuri chuckled. “She also never gets anywhere on time.”

T’Challa grunted in response, and Shuri noticed the annoyance in his voice. She put up her fists, playfully tapping him on the shoulder with a weak jab.

“Come on, bro. She’ll be here. Chill out.”

“She’s two hours late.”

“Was there a problem with the opening?”

“No. According to Okoye and Bahati, they just could not pull her away from conversing with the crowd.”

The princess smiled.

“You know how Zora is. Or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?” she asked him dramatically, with a hand to her chest.

“Just wait until you meet someone. You’ll finally understand why being apart is so painful.”

“It’s been two weeks, T’Challa. You’ve gone away for longer on missions before.”

“Being the one left at home makes the time move slower.”

“I guess.” Shuri shrugged as she plopped down on the end of the bed and began picking at her fingernails–an anxious habit that she rarely resorted to. T’Challa immediately caught on to her discomfort, and his overprotective nature flared in his chest. He hated when Shuri wasn’t her normal bubbly self.

“Something bothering you?”

“Just your mother.”

T’Challa laughed away the tension that had built in his shoulders just that quickly.

“What did our mother do this time, Shuri?”

The exasperated younger sibling groaned as she fell backward onto the bed, “She won’t stop trying to set me up!”

“Who is it now?”

“Nakia’s younger cousin, L’Nela.”

T’Challa’s face scrunched up disapprovingly. Even the tailor stopped moving the lint roller across the king’s chest to look at Shuri in disbelief before continuing his job.

“She’s not your type,” T’Challa stated as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

“You know that. I know that. All of Wakanda knows that! But mother is horrible at lesbian matchmaking. Bast bless her for trying, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take, brother!”

“I will talk to her,” the king chuckled at her dramatics.

“Well, actually, I came to see if Zora would-“

T’Challa’s kimoyo beads chimed with the tone he had reserved for his love, and the communication bead rolled down into his palm.

“Speak, and she shall appear,” he grumbled as Zora’s hologram smiled at him apologetically.

“I know, I know, I’m late-”

“Two hours, Zora?”

“I couldn’t just cut off the Ghanaian ambassador and ignore the excited children, T’Challa.”

“Brother’s been in a sour mood all day,” Shuri tattled from her spot on the bed, and Zora chuckled before her picture cut out momentarily.

“What are you doing?” T’Challa asked with an accusatory tone, his eyes squinting curiously.

“Getting dressed-“

“Just now?! It’s a two-hour ride!”

“I needed a nap!”

“I tried to tell her,” snarked Bahati, now promoted to Zora’s assistant, as she helped her into her attire for the evening.

“Not you both ganging up on me! I can be late to my own damn event if I want to. And need I remind y’all I’m not even that late? We’ll be landing in a minute.”

“A minute?” T’Challa asked for clarification, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“More like ten, kumkani wam.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Bahati,” Zora mocked. “You know, sometimes I think she’s your favorite.”

“It’s because she listens.”

“She’s paid to listen; I’m not.”

“Don’t I know it,” T’Challa smirked, and Zora mirrored the expression.

“I’ll be there soon, love.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

————-

Racing through the central African skies on the Royal Talon, Zora ended the call and allowed the makeup artist to touch up her gold eyeshadow while Bahati zipped up the side of her backless black jumpsuit.

She knew she was pushing T’Challa’s nerves by running so far behind schedule, but Zora liked it when he was all worked up about one thing or another. Granted, that wasn’t actually her intention this time. She really did get caught up at the grand opening of the new Wakandan International Outreach Center in Accra. Still, she recognized that she should have planned for that possibility instead of booking a gala immediately after.

After two years of working with T’Challa and foreign dignitaries to bring her vision to fruition, Zora was finally kicking off her student exchange program. One hundred students of all ages, fifty from Wakanda and fifty from across the diaspora, would trade places for a semester. Zora spent countless hours pouring over applications and hand-picking who she thought would benefit most from the carefully crafted program. Now the diaspora students were coming to Wakanda for a warm welcome.

As excited as Zora was for her exchange program to begin, she was running on fumes and needed time to relax and refuel. Not only had she just left Ghana, but she and T’Challa had just visited several Outreach Centers before that. Their trip started in Oakland at the very first Outreach Center. Then, they made stops in Houston, New Orleans, Chicago, D.C., and Atlanta before finishing their rounds in Charleston, where they met their goddaughter for the first time. Unfortunately, T’Challa couldn’t visit long because the elders called him away to handle a security problem near the southern border, but what little time he spent with the new addition to their extended family was more than enough to make an impact on Zora.

Indigo Ayers-Odun, daughter of Keisha and Dakarai, absolutely took Zora’s breath away. She was the best of both her parents, with her mother’s catlike eyes and her father’s broad smile. Zora and T’Challa were both tickled by how cautious the little girl was with them initially. Dakarai’s cautious nature shone through her before Keisha’s bubbly personality took over once she determined they were trustworthy enough for her to bless them with her laughter. She was a little miracle. One that captured the attention of everyone around her and made them wonder about making little miracles of their own.

Zora got caught up in the magic. As soon as she observed T’Challa playing with the infant, she began wondering if maybe the time was right to try for one. She thought of her belly stretching and her hips cracking to make way for a baby that she hoped looked like her twin, and a warmth filled her chest. Those thoughts didn't stick around long, though. They were quickly shot down by her logical mind telling her she was too busy for babies, but they still lingered in the back of her consciousness like a dull headache.

T’Challa noticed the way Zora’s eyes seemed to look past Indigo into the potential future, and M’Baku saw it when she called him on her kimoyo beads so he could see the baby while stuck in Jabariland. Neither man mentioned their observation, but they both held onto hope that they could become parents soon. They tried to hide their baby fever from Zora so she wouldn’t feel pressured, but she knew what they wanted. And as the days passed by, she wanted it more and more, too…

The thought of a tiny hand wrapping around her tattooed finger made Zora sigh as her eyes examined the design, and Bahati smiled knowingly at her friend.

“Missing your Jabari man?” she asked.

Zora simply nodded, not wanting to get too deep into the true reason for her melancholy.

“The gala will fly by, and you can be together after.”

“I know,” Zora sighed again. “I just hate having to treat him like a spare.”

“Zora, I’m sure he knows he’s not a spare. This is all just for show. It’s all politics.”

Zora glanced at herself in the full-body mirror, and a sense of déjà vu washed over her as she found herself transported back to her first morning waking up in Wakanda. She’d never forget the day that Bahati first gave her, Keisha, and that incompetent ambassador a tour of the country that she now called home. She had come a long way in just two, almost three short years. Zora was just an ambassador’s assistant when she first came to Wakanda. So much had changed in her life with that trip to Wakanda. It was supposed to be for a few short weeks, and she ended up falling in love with the country and two of its sons and sticking around. Now, Zora couldn’t imagine living anywhere else in the world.

“Don’t worry. Tonight will be a breeze,” Bahati reassured Zora as she gave her one last glance over to check for anything out of place.

Zora smiled at her friend and let the optimistic words wash over her. Tonight would be a breeze…

---------

Black students and their chaperones, journalists, and government officials from across the diaspora flew into Birnin Zana earlier that day, and each member of the royal family greeted them with a welcoming speech when they arrived. Shuri spoke of her excitement about sharing her technology with the brilliant young minds that had come to Wakanda. Ramonda spoke of how her travels with her late husband only gave her a taste of the outside world but encouraged the young Wakandans that would spend time beyond their borders to truly appreciate the cultural exchange. T’Challa ended the welcome brunch by telling them how the program came to be: Zora. He explained her absence and promised she’d grace them with her presence at the gala when she returned that evening.

Zora ensured each guest received a kimoyo bracelet complete with translator capabilities, and Wakandan tour guides were assigned to small groups of five to ten people. The following day, they’d all receive the same tour that Bahati and T’Challa gave Zora and Keisha when they arrived, plus more specialized tours based on academic focus. The Wakandan students would be greeted by their host communities in their own unique but similar ways. They mingled with their visitors with ease, and by the start of the gala, the only thing that separated them was the culturally specific styles of their formal attire.

The event was held in the palace courtyard, with the setting sun front and center for the guests to marvel at while they trickled into the space from their lodgings across the city. Zora had spent months working with a team of artists, contractors, and craftspeople to make sure the courtyard (as well as the entire palace and the visitor’s apartments) was perfect and to her liking for her visitors. Drummers struck their instruments with their palms in a high-energy rhythm that got the guests dancing before the event began. By the time the guests spotted the Royal Talon descending from the sky on the other side of the palace spires, spirits were so high that they erupted into applause that rang out loud enough for Zora to hear inside the aircraft.

She was a vision in black when T’Challa laid eyes on her as she came down the ramp, and as soon as she saw him, her face lit up. Zora ran to T’Challa and jumped into his arms, not caring about messing up their formal attire or makeup. Their lips locked in a wet embrace they had longed for over the past two weeks, and their bodies came alive at the other’s touch. His firm hands held her up and grabbed her cheeks to pull her body closer to his while her arms wrapped around his neck. Tongues explored mouths, and they breathed as one again.

Being apart for the past two weeks was rough for Zora and T’Challa. Seeing Indigo brought up a lot of emotions for them both, and being without their loves during that time made for some lonely nights. Kimoyo chats can only do so much, especially when Zora loved taking every opportunity she could to tease her man. Her fingers would explore her depths while she panted and moaned and called his name, wishing her walls were contracting around his girth, and he couldn’t help but stroke himself until he overflowed with passion watching her performance. He’d tell her what to do, and she’d become her bratty self instantly, forcing him to keep a running tab of her infractions.

There were eight.

Half of those infractions come from her insistence on not calling him by whatever name he allows her to at the time. Sometimes he wants to hear her call him the same name as the rest of the world, and other times he only allows “Sir.” When she wants to get under his skin, she’s always resorted to calling him by his title, and T’Challa kept count of four times when she chose to push that button.

Another three came from her refusal to take his directions. He told her to remove her panties; she pushed them to the side. He ordered her to stop rubbing her clit when she seemed like she was about to climax, but Zora did it anyway, a satisfied smirk on her face as her juices dripped down on her hand. Then, her striptease while the king was in a meeting with the council. Every few seconds, T’Challa’s kimoyo beads dinged with a picture that he dared not open until after the meeting, each one of her in fewer clothes than the one before. By the time he called her after the meeting ended, she was cumming all over her favorite vibrator and screaming his name in her soundproof suite on the Talon while he tried his best to maintain composure in the two free minutes he had in his schedule.

The last infraction was when Zora’s bratty side got out of hand. T’Challa had missed her usual before-bedtime call, and when he called her back twenty minutes later, Zora was tired and cranky from a long day of global politicking. Her attitude made her mouthy, and when she accused him of sleeping with his assistant, he’d had enough. The following day, she didn’t even remember their conversation, but the king had already begun plotting revenge.

Those thoughts of punishment disappeared from T’Challa’s mind when he saw Zora in the flesh again. His heart nearly stopped as he took in her curves, from the royal purple polish on her stubby toes to the tip of the beaded halo resting comfortably in her curls. His hands felt like they were glued to her ass, and he couldn’t help but squeeze it tighter and test the jiggle in his hands to make sure it was all still there.

Zora whimpered against T’Challa’s mouth when his fingertips got dangerously close to her lower lips, and his body responded with a rush of blood between his legs. He pressed his pelvis into her warmth and held her tighter while she gripped him as if he would ever drop her.

“Oh, my Bast!”

Zora pried her eyes open at the interruption and saw T’Challa’s new assistant trying her best to remain professional. The rest of the staff was used to their displays of affection and worked around them like it was nothing, but poor Kidada looked stunned to see her boss and king in such a precarious position.

“Uxolo kumkani–”

The two lovers cooled down and pulled apart with a chuckle, and the king waved off her nervous ramblings.

“No need to apologize, Kidada.”

She nodded and pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her round nose, looking away nervously while Zora and T’Challa were both swarmed by their stylists.

“How’s it looking out there?” Zora asked the assistant while the makeup artist touched up her lipstick.

“The visitors saw the Talon arrive, and they’ve begun asking for you.”

“We won’t keep them waiting much longer.”

“We?” T’Challa scoffed, and Zora cut her eyes at him, forcing Bahati to stifle a giggle.

“We’re a unit now, T’Challa, or have you forgotten your vows?” Zora teased, and it became T’Challa’s turn to cut his eyes.

“As if I could ever do such a thing.”

“I know, baby. You love me too much.”

“That and the eidetic memory,” T’Challa smirked, his eyes trailing up to the isicholo on Zora’s head.

His mind traveled back to the day he first placed it there as vividly as if he still existed in that very moment. The procession through Birnin Zana was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen until they made it to the palace steps, and he was allowed to turn around and face his future wife. The brightly colored flower petals that filled the air and covered the ground they walked on as they made their way through the city streets had nothing on Zora in her intricately woven purple robes and stark white wedding paint. Ramonda comforted Cheryl as they gave their children away to be married on the palace steps, and both mothers had tearfully proud smiles on their faces as the priestess declared their union to be blessed by Bast. T’Challa remembered hearing slight sniffles coming from Shuri’s direction, but he was too busy gazing into his new wife’s twinkling eyes as he secured her crown.

Zora caught him staring, but she knew where his memory had taken him. She reached out her hand to intertwine their fingers, and the swirling patterns that the tattooist etched into their skin the day they were wed completed the design in the way they intended.

“Let’s go,” she said with a soft smile.

T’Challa brought her hand to his lips and led the way out of the dressing room with Kidada, Bahati, and their Dora Milaje detail on their heels.

“My king, my queen,” Kidada rushed out as she followed behind them. “The queen mothers and the princess are already seated at the table, as are the council members, and the-”

“M’Baku?” Zora stopped walking and looked back at the assistant expectantly, but Kidada deferred to T’Challa.

“Zora,” he began, “he decided it would be best if he kept his distance. He sent Dembe in his absence.”

“Oh.” Disappointment weighed on Zora’s vocal cords like the heaviest boulder. “Is he ok?”

T’Challa sweetly cupped Zora’s face with the hand not interwoven with hers.

“He knew he could not remain professional in front of our guests.”

Zora nodded solemnly, and took a step forward, only to be pulled back into T’Challa’s embrace.

“My love, he-”

“I understand… it’s hard for me, too.”

He kissed her forehead, and the two of them took off again towards the courtyard with their entourage in tow.

Zora tried to go over her speech, but her mind kept wandering back to M’Baku. She couldn’t help but feel a little hollow inside every time he came up. That emptiness came not just from missing her Jabari man, but because, in order to build relationships with foreign dignitaries, Zora had to become something she despised: dishonest. More than telling simple lies, she had to hide a piece of herself because of her global peers’ conservative sensibilities surrounding non-traditional relationships.

Wakanda was already under so much scrutiny from the global press. The country’s name was being dragged through the mud by conservatives and liberals alike for their exclusionary practices, neither side of the political spectrum truly grasping the concept of reparations for descendants of chattel slavery. The United Nations was breathing down their necks for a taste of vibranium. Zora specifically had become the target of many a smear campaign calling her every foul name under the sun for “sleeping her way into the palace”—a sentiment that lost a news reporter in the UK his job when his boss mysteriously received pictures of said reporter in blackface taken just two years prior.

To Wakandans, and many people around the world with liberated mindsets, polyamory is just another way of life; there are also many who see it as unacceptable, especially when a woman has more than one man. The woman is considered loose and therefore unworthy of respect, and the men are seen as weak for allowing such a thing to transpire. As incorrect as that thinking is, Zora knew all too well the ass-backward logic of the colonized world, and it was her decision to keep the true nature of her relationship with M’Baku under wraps to be taken seriously. The world would at least halfway respect a gold-digger, but a whore, especially when in the body of a Black woman, was seen as nothing more than an object to be used. To only speak when spoken to and to not demand the respect said whore deserves.

That meant that while the visitors were inside Wakanda, the throuple was to act as a couple in public, and that M’Baku didn’t join Zora and T’Challa for diplomatic trips to foreign countries. However, when Zora chose to keep her other man from the world, she quickly learned that it wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. In fact, it downright ripped her apart every time she had to restrain herself from holding his hand or planting a kiss on his cheek in specific settings. Every time Zora had to lie about their relationship or stop herself from touching him, her stomach churned at the lack of affection, but she’d always more than make up for it later.

Zora gave up on practicing her speech and let her mind wander to after the gala when the three of them would be together for the first time in weeks. She knew her guilt would make it difficult for her to accept the intimacy that M’Baku and T’Challa were undoubtedly about to lay on her for both her successful event and to celebrate their reuniting after her travels. She’d have to pay extra close attention to M’Baku, but as soon as she began planning all the things she wanted to do to him, the group arrived at the final set of double doors leading to the courtyard.

---------

The king and queen of Wakanda smiled so wide their cheeks hurt as they took picture after picture with their guests, much to Okoye’s dismay. She was on high alert, having so many foreigners in her home country, and although she loved the idea of the children coming to visit, she loathed the politicians and journalists that followed them. She didn’t trust them one bit, so she had her Dora Milaje, the palace guards, and the tribal warriors, on guard. Of course, each person had been vetted, and no weapons were brought into the country, but the warriors remained ready just in case something popped off.

The general scanned the crowd while Zora spoke to a twelve-year-old girl who was interested in design and had complimented her isicholo when she noticed the entrance to the gardens darken, and a prominent figure appeared from the shadows. Okoye fought a smirk as she continued to survey the space, and as soon as the young girl left Zora’s side, she leaned in close to whisper a message to her queen.

“Your husband is here, kumkanikazi wam.”

Zora’s face lit up, and she instantly began searching the crowd for his figure until she felt a nudge on her shoulder. She looked T’Challa’s way, and his eyes darted to the back corner as he nodded in that direction, having heard Okoye’s whisper with ease. Zora’s gaze followed his lead, and not a second later, her body felt flush as she laid her eyes on none other than the chief of the Jabari himself.

M’Baku stood near the entrance to the gardens wearing his chief furs, his large arm guards filling out his already massive silhouette in a way that made Zora’s mind go straight to the gutter. She felt a tingle between her legs at the thought of parading around his room in his furs while he was naked and tied down to his bed. The queen tried in vain to fight the urge to stare, but she was too weakened by his presence. He felt her gaze from across the room and looked away from his conversation with his liaison Dembe. Their eyes met, and it was as if the entire room had melted away. All that mattered was the man by her side and the man yards away from her. The only thing she felt was T’Challa’s warm arm sliding around her waist and the icy chill of M’Baku’s absence from her other side.

Always knowing exactly what Zora was feeling, T’Challa leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Now would be a good time for you to stretch your legs if you’d like.”

Zora tore her eyes away from M’Baku, and they landed square on the only man the entire world knew to be hers, a knowing and thankful smile gracing her plump lips before she met him for a chaste kiss.

“I’ll be back.”

T’Challa unhanded her waist and let her slip from his side, his eyes slyly taking in her figure in her jumpsuit as she sashayed toward the gardens with Ayo not far behind. He didn’t have time to daydream about what lay beneath the dark fabric because the U.S. Secretary of State dampened his mood by stepping into his line of vision.

While T’Challa was being hounded by Secretary Ross yet again, Zora slowly made her way through the room, stopping every few steps to mingle while she monitored M’Baku as she grew closer and closer to his warmth. When she stopped just four feet away from him to applaud a blended group of teenagers dancing together, he slipped away from Dembe and back into the gardens, causing Zora to smirk. So, he wanted to play games?

Zora glanced at T’Challa across the room to check in, and his slight nod gave her all the approval she needed.

“Ayo, please make sure we are undisturbed.”

“Ewe, kumkanikazi wam,” the lieutenant nodded and stood guard at the garden entrance.

Zora winked at Dembe as she slipped through the gate, and they sent back a knowing little wave as she disappeared into the shrubbery. The sounds of the party grew fainter with every step she took into the depths of the lush gardens until her stilettos became louder against the stone path than the drums in the distance. Zora’s feet carried her all the way there on autopilot, and when she rounded the last corner, her body came alive when a warm presence engulfed her.

It was a presence she knew all too well, one she had joined with before Hanuman in a ceremony that brought tears to her eyes. When she looked down at the large hands that had taken hold of her waist, a smile took over her face at the black ink embedded in the skin. His and her hands marked forever to solidify their union, just as her right hand held the same marks that decorated T’Challa’s skin. Her smile grew wider when he pulled her in tight and kissed her neck, his hands gripping the two strands of beads that decorated her waist given to her by her two husbands in a much more intimate exchange within the confines of her bedroom.

“You were great up there, my sweet,” M’Baku rumbled into the crook of her neck, and Zora sighed into the deep vibrations.

“How would you know? You missed my speech.”

“Dembe recorded on their beads so I could still watch you.”

Zora turned around in his arms and cupped his bearded face in her hands.

“I wish you could’ve been there with me.”

M’Baku kissed her deeply.

“I do, too.”

Zora reached for his hand and led him to her favorite bench in the entire garden. It had been carved from the trunk of an ancient tree that fell during an unseasonably powerful storm that blew through the night Shuri was born and placed in a secluded corner of the gardens. The carpenter paid extra close attention to detail when they made it, and Zora couldn’t help but feel drawn to it every time she entered the green space. So much so that M’Baku and T’Challa regularly found her escaping her duties by reclining on that very bench and soaking up the fresh air in silence.

“I have missed you, Zora,” M’Baku mumbled, his lips dusting over Zora’s knuckles as he planted soft kisses on her inked skin.

Zora’s lips met his before she could even think to preserve her makeup, and not seconds later, she was straddling his lap… until the sound of a shutter pierced the air, and a rustling of leaves forced them apart.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @brihann, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @brattyfics, @cecereads209, @afriendlyblackhottie, @queengodiva619, @musicisme333, @dersha89, @ljstraightnochaser, @bornamiracle, @xoxoviva, @goddessofmischief0711, @issahyland, @blkbutterfly816, @judymfmoody, @novaniskye, @prettystringbean, @martakllv, @blackpinup22, @griot-of-wakanda, @mermaidchansons

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fanfiction #t'challa x oc x m'baku #t'challa x oc #m'baku x oc #black!oc #throuple #polyamory #bisexual #m'baku fanfiction #m'baku smut #m'baku fluff #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa smut #t'challa fluff #bisexual t'challa #bisexual m'baku #bisexual!oc #Spotify

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tarithenurse · 1 year

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T'Challa Masterlist

Smut/lemons/nsfw/sexual themes = * Mental health issues = % Violence/gore = #

Always watch out for individual chapter warnings/content.Reader is per default female unless otherwise stated.

One-shots

Bast *

Goddess!Reader. The duty of a king is to protect and serve his people. Thankfully, that can be quite pleasurable at times.

Better %

Being lonely in love is a pain.

Good morning

Can be read as GN!reader. AU. Just a dose of the morning after fluff with a sprinkling of domestic!T’Challa and a hint towards sexy times.

Longing

Love confessions.

#T'Challa #Black Panther #MCU #T'Challa Fanfiction #T'Challa Fanfic

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mariaxxxxx · 8 months

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Red fruits (MarvelboysxFem!reader) series masterlist.

Summary: You were a sweet, ripe, juicy fruit; ready to be devoured. Marvelboysxfem!reader!)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, good ending, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, menstrual sex, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

◦ parte 1:Cherry (bucky barnes/winter soldier x fem!reader) - The Soldier takes care of you when your monthly blood appears suddenly. (+18)

◦ parte 2: Strawberry (Loki x fem!reader) -

◦ parte 3: Blackberry(Steve Rogersx fem!reader) -You shouldn't have had too much to drink at that party, blackbarry. (+18)

◦ parte 4: Raspberry (T'Challa x fem!reader) -

◦ parte 5: Dragon fruit ( Namor x fem!reader)- You beg K'uk'ulkan to give you a baby (+18)

◦ parte 6: Blueberry(Helmut Zemo xFem!reader)-

#namor x reader #bucky barnes x reader #helmut zemo x reader #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #t'challa x reader #mcu fanfiction #x reader #mcu fandom #winter soldier x reader

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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The Unsweet Masterlist

Welcome to "The Unsweetened Truth," a haven for those who crave raw and authentic romance narratives featuring Black protagonists. As the author behind these narratives, I invite you to join me on a journey where the stories reflect my real life with a giant sprinkle of delusion. But be warned: the content found within these pages is intended for mature audiences only, with themes and imagery that reflect the complexities of adult relationships. So, take a seat, immerse yourself in the stories, and discover the unfiltered beauty of romance through the eyes of Black protagonists. And remember, all content is exclusive to this platform, protected under #unsweetimagines—because some truths are meant to be savored, not shared.

The Adored One (Complete)

Nereyda is a member of the Doras—a marginalized class whose purpose is solely for pleasure. But Nereyda is no ordinary Dora; she holds a special place as the chosen companion of Prince T'Challa.

Who Hurt You (One Shot)

T'Challa, the esteemed leader of Wakanda, ventures into the dimly lit confines of a hidden establishment, not as a king, but as a man driven by his own desires. There he finds you.

Come Sit On My Lap (One Shot)

T'Challa isn't paying enough attention to you so you decide to go out without him. You're not ready for the repercussions.

Promises (Complete)

Erik left more than just his girl behind. It was time to keep some of his promises.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Erik's Packing List

Voyeurism (One Shot)

Discipline (One Shot)

Another Again (One Shot)

Kinksize

Happy

#erik killmonger x poc #erik killmonger fic #erik kilmonger x reader #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa x poc #t'challa x reader #t'challa udaku fic #erik killmonger x black!oc #erik stevens #t'challa udaku #mbaku x black!oc #m'baku x reader #m'baku #m'baku fanfiction

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your-averagewriter · 1 year

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Work interruptions.

Summary: Shuri enjoys calling her girlfriend from the Jabari Tribe during her work shifts bearing gifts that give homemade a whole new meaning but they can't hang out during the day so (y/n) meets her after her shifts (Shuri x fem!reader).

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: fluff, weapons, kissing?

“(y/n) of the Jabari Tribe, your council is sought by the leaders of the Golden Tribe.” A warrior of a lower rank requests.

“Permission to leave,” I ask of M’Baku who’s slumped in his chair.

“Yes, yes.” He says dismissing me with a wave of his hand before continuing the meeting that was interrupted by the announcement. This has happened multiple times now, Shuri summons me to her home for unimportant reasons.

Grabbing hold of my sword I hop down from the platform I was standing on and I follow the warrior out of the room. He leads me out of the building and towards the hangar.

“I can escort myself, thank you,” I say, a serious, authoritative tone in my voice. It’s hard to get taken seriously when you’re only 17, a woman and the warriors ranked below you are all taller and older than you. But he nods before exiting.

I make my way to my speeder, yes I know sounds like some science fiction but it’s not, Shuri designed it for me. Quickly, I mount it and fly to the Golden Tribe’s palace. I drop off my speeder in their hangar before announcing myself to the guards. They lead me through the building and to the lab even though I already know the way.

“You requested my presence?” I ask bowing to Shuri slowly before standing up straight.

“Yes, my love. Come here.” She says waving me towards what I assume is a new creation of hers. She starts explaining about the small object, a bracelet of beads by the looks of it. She ties it around my wrist and explains what it does and how it will help keep me safe.

“Princess, I am on duty, you cannot keep calling me over when you are not in danger or there is no reason of importance,” I say and she looks disappointed.

“But I miss you in the day. You’re always so busy!” She says.

“I’ll come back later when I’m off-duty,” I say trying to appease her.

“Ugh fine.” She says, begrudgingly.

“Do you need anything else, princess?” I ask bowing again.

“Yes, actually.” She points to her cheek and I sigh but walk over anyway. I kiss her on the cheek before leaving the room.

“You look very pretty today, goodbye, my love,” I say before heading back to my post in the mountains.

The rest of the day is fairly calm, not much happens apart from the usual security at M’Baku’s meetings. Otherwise, it’s an easy day although the time that I relax will be the time I’m caught off guard.

Taking off my armour, I place it on the armour stand before pulling on some more casual clothes, a mesh bodysuit with a pair of black trousers and chunky boots - not the most practical but great for kicking people with.

Heading towards the Golden Tribe palace for the second time this day I suddenly hear a voice from the beaded bracelet, jumping slightly I’m awakened by it.

“(y/n), are you almost here?” Shuri’s voice sounds through the beads.

“Shuri? I that you?” I ask holding the beads in front of my mouth, my mind completely ‘boggled’.

“Yes, my lover, it is me. You need not hold the beads so close to your mouth.” She says with a chuckle.

“Why are you in the beads?” I ask shaking my wrist.

“I am not in the beads, I promise. It’s a telecom like in the fighter jets.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” I trail off.

“So, are you almost here?” She asks again.

“Yes, I’ll be with you in mere minutes, be patient, my dear.” I say before tapping the beads trying to ‘hang up’.

“Excellent.” She says before a small beep sound is made and her voice disappears. Pulling up to my ear I shake it once more before shrugging and moving on.

Minutes later I arrive at the same palace and I’m escorted in once again by two guards.

“(y/n)?” I hear a voice from in front of me.

“King T’Challa,” I say before kneeling on one knee and bowing my head, the guards behind me do the same.

T’Challa chuckles. “Surely, we are past this now, are we not (y/n)?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say with my head bowed still.

“There is no need for you to kneel and bow to me, are we not better friends than that, how long have you been dating Shuri? 2, or 3 years? Come on now, surely we moved past these formalities a while ago.” He says with a laugh, holding his hand out to me.

I take it hesitantly with a gracious smile. “I guess so, King T’Challa.”

“Just T’Challa, please.” He says before shaking my hand and looking behind me. “Do they not let you in here unaccompanied?” He says and I shake my head. “Well, from now on (y/n) does not need to be accompanied within my home, it is safe and I trust her.” He says to the guards and almost immediately they retreat back to the main doors. “Do you mind if I walk with you?” Placing his hands behind his back.

“Of course not.” We continue walking towards the laboratory.

Conversation is made, the usual ‘how are you’s and ‘how’s work’, the usual until we make it to the lab.

“(y/n) finally!” I hear as soon as I step foot in the lab, the next thing I see is her running towards me. She wraps her arms around me.

“Shuri, as adorable as this is moment is, give the woman some space.” He chuckles.

“Go away brother, why are you even here?” She asks, jokingly grimacing at him.

“I’ll leave, I’ll leave.” He says placing his hands in the air in a mock surrender before backing away towards the door. “I don’t want to interrupt you two.”

“Yes, get out of my lab!” She yells as he opens the door and leaves.

“I missed you today, my love.” I say as she’s still gripping onto me. “I’m guessing you did as well.”

“Of course,” She pulls away from me but stays holding onto my hand. “Come on, I’ve got something extra for you.”

She picks something small off of the side and places it into my hand and closes my palm. Re-opening my palm I inspect the two small objects against my skin. Two earrings it looks like, they’re made of a pale blue gem like material with metal coatings. They’re beautiful.

“They match your bracelet and they work very similarly - they have qualities that help track you and protect you.”

“They are really pretty.” I say admiring them.

“Try them on.” she says, leading me over towards one fo the full body mirrors. I change out my old ones which are plain balls of metal whilst the new ones are blue gems. Checking myself in the mirror, I look at the earrings and how well they match my outfit before turning to Shuri.

“They’re beautiful. I love you.” I say, kissing her gently.

“Thank you, I couldn’t make a second pair in time for your arrival so that’s my pair, you can have them, they’ll keep you safe.” I shake my head.

“You are the princess, sister of the king, you need to be safe and protected, I am a warrior I’m of no high status and am a target of little persecution - you need these more than me.” I say starting to take out the earrings.

“No, no, (y/n), you don’t need to, I’ll be able to make a second pair sometime tomorrow and I’ll be safe until then.”

“Who is gonna keep you safe until then?”

“You, I guess you’re staying the night babe unless you want to leave me entirely defenceless. What would I do without you?” She says with a smirk before pecking me on the lips.

AN: I just saw Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and I'm in love with everyone in the movie all over again.

This a reminder that Shuri is at a minimum of 16 and a maximum of 19 so please don't be creepy and read this if you're like 30 - I am a minor and so is the character. In this fic specifically, Shuri is either 16 or 17 so just don't be creepy.

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dramaqueeenamby · 1 year

Text

Easy | T'Challa Udaku

A/N: My god, BP2 was such an emotional ride. This is a product of all of the emotions I'm still reeling from. I have not written for BP in probably a year+, so I apologize for the rustiness.

Warnings: ANGST.

Words: 3K

You can find my other works HERE.

++++++++++++DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER++++++++++++

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Loving him was easy.

Maybe too easy.

Maybe things would have been easier if he wasn’t so easy. So easy to admire, so easy to be drawn to, so easy to feel an ungodly amount of love and adoration for.

But maybe that was just T’Challa. With his beautiful smile and brilliant mind, few paths seemed to lead to some place loveless. He was the embodiment of attraction, from the way he spoke, to the way he conducted himself, to the way he loved.

Yeah….easy seemed to be unavoidable.

A small smile makes its way to your face as you reminisce on your first meeting all those years ago.

“Would you just tell me already?”

Nakia simply looks over at you with that same bored yet tempted expression. “And ruin the surprise? Never.”

She laughs, clearly amused by your frustration, by the lack of patience for which you’ve still struggled to fully comprehend.

You’d just completed your War Dog training and had been assigned to Nakia, to shadow her on a few missions and prove that you were ready for your own assignment. It was a perfect partnership, as Nakia matched your wit and sense of humor, both of which had definitely gotten you in trouble more times than you’d like to admit.

“How about a hint?”

“How about no?”

Your eyes narrowed as you nudged her. “You are enjoying this.”

“Somewhat,” she admits. You share another look before giggling together when a firm voice from behind interrupts your moment.

“Forgive me, ladies.”

“You are not forgiven,” your response is natural and instantaneous, a small smirk playing on your face. “Matter of fact, you should know better than to sneak on two lad–” The smirk drops and your ridicule is cut short by the dark eyes and curious gaze of the crowned prince who stands before you.

If Nakia was amused before, she was delighted now. You can feel her eyes still focused on you as she bumps you with her hip. “Y/N, you didn’t finish your statement. How rude.”

Your glare could burn two holes into the princess as she shakes her head and returns her focus onto Prince T’Challa.

“Yes, T’Challa?” It’s in the most random, unexpected moments that you remember while Nakia is your friend, she is also royalty. Perhaps it’s something you should commit to memory, especially given how you’ve just completely disregarded all protocol for the future ruler of Wakanda.

Finally able to pick your eyeballs off the ground, you find that T’Challa’s gaze is pinpointed on you. “Nakia is correct. It is improper to finish your statement…..”

He trails off, and you realize he’s searching for your name. Slightly dejected and still embarrassed, you answer, hastily adding a “your grace” onto the end. For good measure and respect.

He simply makes a sound before repeating your name. It feels so strange hearing your name on his mouth, strange but also….right. Shifting your stance, you’re thankful when he finally reirects his focus to Nakia. Memory of what was said between them was lost years ago, but the initial butterflies in your stomach upon your first meeting have always stayed with you.

You pray to Bast they always will.

Rolling your shoulders, your fingers dance across the fabric on your skin. It’s a piece you’d acquired since moving to Haiti. Your fingertips stroke the intricate pattern, and just like that, you’re hit with memories of laying in bed, naked, a sheen of sweat covering your back while the same fingers dance across his chest.

There are too many times that this occurred, but it’s somewhat easier to recall one of the later moments.

The silence rattles you, not because you can’t handle it. It’s because you know underneath it lies turmoil, It’s present in the way he entered you, rough, desperate, lost. Lovemaking with T’Challa was always anything but that, maybe the first of them at times, but never the latter two.

Your hands flatten against his chest, gently curving inward to draw his attention. He doesn’t move to look down, but you know he’s listening.

“Talk to me,” you implore, licking your lips. “There’s so much more room out here, my love.”

He says nothing but you feel the scoff underneath his strong chest. “There is already too much out here.”

“Nay,” you lean to kiss the underside of his jaw. “You underestimate the space, kumkani.”

Finally, allowing you a glance of his dejected expression, he counters, “and you underestimate the weight, Isithandwa.”

Sighing, your hand travels to his face. “You didn’t know, T’Challa. None of us did.” If you’re being honest with yourself, it’s still nearly incomprehensible to believe that King T’Chaka was responsible for the murder of his own brother as well as the abandonment of his nephew, T’Challa’s cousin, the man who seemed hellbent on revenge.

But not for poor reasons.

Still, the fact that so much of this falls on T’Challa, who has barely had time to mourn the loss of his father, your heart aches for the pain he refuses to show but you know he feels.

“And we cannot change the past,” you continue, though vaguely unsure of yourself. T’Challa has always been the better of you two when it came to wording things in a way that was equally beautiful as it was helpful. “But, we can make decisions now that will help us create a better future.”

“Built on what? Lies.”

“No….” Again, your hand movement shifts to his hard abdomen, as your fingers offer comforting, circular movements. “No, my love, the lies stop with you. You will be the change that will usher in a new era for Wakanda, a better era, for us all.”

Instead of the incoherent sounds you usually receive, his hand on your back tugs you just a little closer. “You have such unyielding faith in me.”

You sit on his words for a few seconds before answering thoughtfully. “I’ve questioned many things in my life, T’Challa, but not one of them has ever been you. Not your ability to rule, to protect, not even to love.” A beat. “Now I’ve maybe questioned your fashion choices at one point or another, but Shuri’s influence will hopefully start to rub off on you.”

A small yelp escapes your mouth as he flips positions so that he’s hovering over you. Your gazes lock as he lowers himself, stealing the gentlest of kisses before resting his forehead against yours. Your hands cradle his cheeks as he kisses both of your palms before shifting downward and laying against your chest. Your arms cocoon him, protecting him, offering a solace only found within your safe embrace.

“I love you, T’Challa. Never forget that.”

You once believed that the five years without T’Challa, having lost him to the Snap, was the most difficult thing you’d ever had to endure.

Clearly….clearly you were wrong.

It starts with a cough.

Nothing persistent or chronic, more inconsistent and light than anything. Probably nothing major enough to raise an eyebrow from anyone else. But you knew T’Challa, and you knew the many benefits of the heart shaped herb.

He didn’t get sick, and more importantly, the black panther didn’t get sick.

A small part of you pretended that it wasn't an issue. You were comforted by the fact that he’d been ripped away from you for five years and returned. What more heartache could possibly outweigh that?

But then the cough was no longer as infrequent, and along with it came a sort of dullness in his normally bright eyes. He seemed….weary.

You knew the weight of returning after being gone for so long weighed on him, but this….this was different.

It was also concerning, as he would come and visit at least once a month, the two of you no longer able to steal moments in time as often as you once did. You were both older now with even more responsibilities than ever before. So when he came to visit two times in a row and you noticed the same dullness, your concern definitely spiked.

It was late, and the two of you were just getting into bed. He’d only just pulled back the blankets when you finally asked.

“How long do you plan to pretend that everything is alright?”

He stands upright and his jaw ticks. “What are you talking about?”

Deflection. T’Challa never deflects. Your concern increases.

Moving across the room, you stand directly in front, looking up at him. “You know exactly what I am talking about.” When he says nothing, your hand lifts to his cheek. “Please talk to me. I am worried.”

“It’s nothing.”

“What is it, T’Challa?” Moving closer, you lay yourself against his chest, mindful of how he hesitates to reciprocate your embrace. “I need you to be honest with me.” A beat. “Or maybe I just need you to be honest with yourself.”

His body tenses underneath the weight of your own as well as your words. And finally, he answers, “something has been…..plaguing me.” Looking up, he immediately goes into comfort mode. “It is nothing to worry about, Isithandwa.”

His eyes betray him, and you can’t help how your own water. “How close are you to a cure?” His silence is the answer you don’t want to hear. It’s an answer that is not the security of promise and hope that you need in this moment.

“Y/N–”

“What-what does Shuri think?” More silence. Your eyes naturally widen. “You have not told her?” His lack of an answer adds another layer of panic as she painfully realizes, “you have not told anyone….”

“There is no need to worry anyone, Y/N.”

“But I am worried, T’Challa!” You whisper harshly, mindful of your volume as not to disturb or let alone awake the last person who needs to be hearing this conversation. “Do you not think I have not noticed how long this has lasted? You have been sick for weeks, months maybe, and if there is no cure in sight, then who is to say you will get better?”

He shakes his head, cupping your face. “Aye, listen to me.” The tears are falling, and his thumb goes to brush them away. “You once told me that you have never doubted me. Do you remember this? Hmm?”

Sniffling, you manage to nod and murmur, “yes.”

Relieved, he tucks you into him, his chin resting on the top of your head. “So trust me now, Y/N. Have faith.”

His words still haunt you, still bring the sting of tears to your eyes and the sharp flash of pain in your chest. Realizing that the man you love has limited time left on earth is a pain like none other. But watching him gradually decline, knowing that there’s nothing you can do….that is a hurt too explosive to even describe.

For his sake, you both acted normal. Same smiles, just a little dimmer. Same laughter, just an octave lighter. Same love, not a damn thing different. Some days you wonder if that was for the better or for the worse. Was it staying and operating out a state of denial? Could you have maybe delayed it, prevented it even if there was more of a sense or urgency?

Because even when you both sat him down, when you were finally honest about T’Challa’s condition, about where his path was leading him, it still felt bitterly hopeful. Like it was a maybe instead of a definitely.

Maybe this will happen, instead of this is going to happen.

But you also knew this wasn’t a decision that you could make by yourself. And truth be told, it wasn’t even a decision T’Challa could make, which disgusted you. How could a man like T’Challa, your sweet, kind love be subjected to such a cruel ending? An ending so unbecoming of the majestic man that he was.

This is when the anger kicks in, the rage at having him taken from you not once, not twice, but three times. Why the hell did you all have to be dealt such a vile card? What travesties could you have done, could he have done to deserve this ending?

In the final weeks, days even, items were dropped or were thrown, tempers were short, clearly, and interactions felt so much more heavy. You still beat yourself up for being so consumed by your own emotions that maybe you weren’t present enough for him when he needed you the most.

That also happens a lot, that feeling of it not being enough. Not enough of him. Not enough of you all. Not enough time.

Not enough of…..anything.

And then that ceremony, the damn goodbye that he decided would be just for them, that was the moment you realized that T’Challa wouldn’t be returning for another visit. This was the last time, and it broke you. Of that night, you don’t remember much, just the absolute agony and grief that tore through your entire being. It’s such a blur, but the pain felt is a constant.

That last goodbye…..even reflecting back on it is too much to bear, too much to try to swallow. Maybe someday you’ll be able to dwell on it….but now….now is too soon, much too soon.

What does stand out is the days following the notice you received that he’d passed on to be with the ancestors.

Washing the dishes was the last thing you wanted to do, but the dishwasher was giving an error code, and you couldn’t bring yourself to seek out someone who could fix it. Especially when that someone you would usually call is no longer available.

Wiping at your face with the back of your hand had become a habit, one that had caused the skin on your face to become tender, harsh even from the constant friction. But the final straw was dropping the glass plate in your hand onto the floor, shattering all over the tile.

You cursed, leaning down to gather the pieces only to not pay close enough attention, accidentally slicing the palm of your hand.

Hissing loudly, you lifted your arm, observing the blood leave the open wound. You do nothing to stop it, watching it continue to spill, even aiding in the process as you apply pressure around the area. It’s a fruitless effort though, because the physical pain is nothing in comparison to your emotional pain.

Overcome with that same emotion, you bring yourself to your feet and storm out the door, running toward the beachfront.

T’Challa always loved the water and wanted you two to be away from everyone else, both for your comfort as well as your privacy and overall safety.

Falling to your knees, your hands brace against the grainy sand as a loud, guttural, visceral scream erupts from the deepest part of your soul. But, it’s not enough. So you go again. And again. And again. Continuing to scream until your voice breaks, as does your resolve.

Now on your side, sobs rake through your entire body, you wails bouncing off the waves of the water.

It’s both comforting and suffocating. A release and a limitation. A blessing and a curse.

“How-how could you leave me?” The question is posed to no one, to everyone, to anyone who will listen. “How could you leave us!” The interrogative nature quickly transitions to a demanding tone, a plea, a beg for mercy. “You said-you said to have faith, and I–I did.” You continue to wail, shaking your head. “And where are you now? WHERE ARE YOU, T’CHALLA?”

Stomach throbbing and eyes burning, your vision is blurred by pain, but you manage to twist your body when small but firm arms wrap around you and a body is pressed against yours. The familiar smell of shea and cocoa butter fills your nostrils as you look down and nearly cave again.

“I’m right here, mama,” your son’s words hit you deeper than anything you could have imagined. And another wave of tears overcomes you as he repeats himself and holds you even tighter. “I’m right here.”

You’re not sure if Challa, as both you and T’Challa took to calling him even when he was still in your womb, will ever be able to fully comprehend the depth and importance of his words. His comfort in that moment pulling you from a darkness you’d never encountered. A darkness you’re not sure you would have been able to save yourself from without him.

It’s been roughly a year since that night, that evening where your greatest blessing saved you from your greatest battle. And every day is a struggle, there’s always moments where you find yourself encountering a memory, missing a touch, yearning for that love.

But then Challa will smile at you, and you’re reminded that death…is never the end.

You remember that loving T’Challa was always so easy because it was inevitable.

“You’re always with me, my love,” you speak upward, smiling softly. “And you always will be.”

#black panther #black panther: wakanda forever #bp2 #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #T'Challa #T'Challa x reader #T'Challa x you #T'Challa Udaku #Black Panther x reader

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