#t'challa lemon
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Troubled Waters Chapter Nineteen
Hello, my loves. Here’s the next to last installment in Nia and T’Challa’s journey. I’ve loved writing this story, and I can’t believe we’re almost done! As always, leave all the feedback you want in your comments and reblogs, and check out my masterlist to see my other works. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in anything! Enjoy😘
CW: smut
Word count: 6,711
The Wakandans knew the battle was over when the obambo collectively released an earsplitting screech into the air before their skeletal bodies collapsed to the blood-soaked earth. The army watched as the evil beings shriveled up before their very eyes. Their bodies became one with the dirt in seconds, and moments later, the obambo’s poor victims returned to their normal state. Their eyes were wide with disbelief over what they had been through, and the trauma of the ordeal was graffitied across their tired faces, but they had survived being possessed.
Just like that, the Wakandans had won the war, and the feeling of a hard-earned victory washed over them. The realization hit slowly at first, but then cheers erupted around the group of soldiers that were happy to be still standing after facing Asha’s army. They weren’t sure exactly what had happened, but the important thing was that the dreadful obambo were gone.
In the middle of the celebration, the doors to the Necropolis opened, and T’Challa stepped out, surveying the carnage.
“Kumkani wam,” Okoye hurried over to him, “The enemy has been neutralized.”
T’Challa nodded, taking in the scene. He fixed his mouth to ask about the panthers when Amare rushed to his side next.
“Where is my daughter?”
“Bast said she would return soon.”
“Return? From where?”
“You found Bast? Where is she?”
Amare and Okoye spoke over each other.
“I’m not sure,” T’Challa grunted in response to them both. He was trying not to dwell on his worries, but his voice reeked of irritation. Ever since Nia disappeared with Asha, his worst fears became realized. He couldn’t bear to live in a world without his love in it, and panic flowed from his every pore until Bast reassured him of her safety. Though her words somewhat calmed him, he still needed to use the time it took to walk up from the catacombs to center himself. He’d need to lay his eyes on Nia himself to know she was safe.
The king distracted himself by taking in the scene before him. He saw the zombi clawing at the Border tribe blankets that kept them boxed in, and he noticed the bouda had all succumbed to the panthers’ teeth and the Wakandans’ weapons. His eyes scanned over the wilted obambo remains before landing on their disoriented former victims scattered about the battlefield with varying degrees of injury.
“Call for the medics,” T’Challa ordered his General. “Get these people stable, and notify their families as well.”
Okoye nodded swiftly and turned on her heels, already alerting the medics on her beads when she noticed a swirling dark cloud above the zombi that she recognized from several months prior.
“Kumkani, their souls,” she warned, and T’Challa’s chest tightened.
None of them could anoint themselves the way they needed to since Nia’s spell made their skin impenetrable, but something about the mass of souls in the air felt different from the time at Nia’s house. They felt more at ease, less frantic than before, and T’Challa realized what had happened. Their maker, the one who held their souls captive in the realm of the dead, was dead herself.
Asha was gone from this world, and they could finally rest.
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N’Jadaka sighed impatiently as he leaned against a column in the bowels of the Necropolis. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, and his foot wouldn’t stop tapping as if it had a mind of its own. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he got tired of standing and let his body slide to the floor as he stared at a blazing torch across the walkway.
“I’m getting too old for this,” he grumbled under his breath and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool marble column as he tried to ignore the way his shoulder ached from fighting Chiku. The bouda had gotten some good licks in, but N’Jadaka was faster, even without the heart-shaped herb in his system. However, his body still ached. Years of being rough on it had caught up with him, and he started seriously contemplating changing his ways when he unintentionally drifted off to dreamland.
“N’Jadaka,” called a voice that he hadn’t heard in years… decades, even. It had been so long that he forgot how she sounded. Even in his dream, he felt an intense wave of sadness wash over him. How could he forget his mother’s voice?
“N’Jadaka,” she called again, and he felt a hand shake his shoulder.
His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked them into focus. That same torch from before nearly blinded him so that all he could see was her silhouette, but he knew it was her.
“Mom?”
“Wh- no… it’s me.”
Nia’s voice came through clear as day, but he had been sure he’d heard his mother….
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” N’Jadaka said through a yawn, “Just been a long day.”
His eyes finally focused on Nia, and he could see a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“What’s up?”
“Someone wants to see you.”
N’Jadaka’s face twisted up like he had tasted a sour lemon without warning, and he stared at her questioningly.
“Who?”
Nia stood from her crouched position, and N’Jadaka finally looked past her to the two figures that hovered just a few feet away.
“My son…”
N’Jadaka looked between Nia, Sego, and N’Jobu as if they were a complicated puzzle with no solution.
“Wh… how…”
His breathing grew rigid and shallow, so Nia placed her hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
“Sekhmet kept them from us,” she explained, helping him stand. “They were in a whole different realm.”
N’Jadaka barely registered her words. His eyes became blurry with tears as he stepped forward and closed the gap between N’Jobu and himself. He reached out, knowing he wouldn’t be able to feel his father’s touch, and surrounded himself with the cool tingly air that comprised N’Jobu. It was the closest thing he could get to a hug.
“Baba,” he croaked and fell apart in the spirit’s arms.
Sego looked at Nia and noticed tears in her eyes, so he reached his hand out to her, and she took it without a second thought.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” he said.
Nia led him upstairs to the temple’s entrance, and they sat down just inside the doors. A comfortable silence stretched over them as Nia leaned her head on Sego’s shoulder until he kissed her forehead and got a good look at her hair.
“I like the braids.”
“Ngiyabonga,” Nia responded with a soft smile. “I wanted to try something different after my hair grew out-”
Sego felt her tense next to him, so he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in close while the painful reminder of their predicament made Nia bite her tongue. All the grief and pain that she’d felt over his loss and tried so hard to overcome came crashing back down on her, and she buried her head in his chest to let the tears flow from her eyes once more.
“I wish you’d gone home that night, then-”
“Then it would’ve been you, and where would we all be now? Hm?”
Nia sniffled.
“It sucks, Nia, but look how things played out.”
Nia’s mind wandered to take in all the moments that led them to where they were. She thought of Sekhmet toying with N’Jadaka, and of the zombi and bouda Asha sent to kill her. She even thought back to the night she lost her best friend.
“What happened on your end?”
Sego’s breath hitched as he reflected on how he came to be in his current dilemma.
“I heard you sneak in late that night after being all fresh with your man,” he teased, and Nia nudged his chest. “Then, a little while later, the door opened again, and I saw someone heading towards you… I didn’t even think; I just acted.”
Sego cleared his throat.
“But I’m glad it was me and not you.”
“How can you say that?”
“Nia, you covered an entire army in protection magic. I couldn’t have done that.”
She had no response, her survivor’s guilt weighing her tongue down until she changed the subject.
“It’s weird that I can touch you.”
“Why?”
“You’re not supposed to be solid. When everyone else came back from the realm of the dead-”
“I never made it all the way there. That could be why.”
“Maybe… whatever the reason, I’m not going to complain.”
They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company for several minutes until they heard N’Jadaka’s heavy footsteps approaching.
“How come you can touch him?” N’Jadaka asked as he and N’Jobu rounded the corner.
“He never made it to the realm of the dead,” Nia answered.
“Lucky you.”
The teasing smile on his face let Nia know his sarcasm was benevolent, so she smiled back.
“Y’all ready to see this mess outside?”
“Actually, son, it’s not as bad as you think.”
“How do you know?”
N’Jobu grinned and patted his son on the shoulder.
“We will explain more later. Right now, you and Nia need to join your people.”
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“Asha has been defeated. Bast has returned to us. Sekhmet has been imprisoned… The war is won,” T’Challa declared from the steps of the Necropolis, and the soldiers cheered. “Go home to your families. Take the remainder of the week to rest, and we will-”
T’Challa stopped himself when the Necropolis doors creaked open behind him, and his eyes found Nia’s like magnets. Dried blood spilled down the front of her skintight, white suit, but she looked otherwise unscathed as she smiled at him. Her eyes were red and swollen, which gave him pause until he noticed the next person stepping out into the light.
“How?” the king asked, his bewilderment only growing when N’Jadaka and N’Jobu came out next.
Amare flew up the steps and wrapped Nia in a hug the moment he laid eyes on her, intercepting her before she could get to T’Challa. He pulled Sego in next and cried as he held them both.
“T’Challa.”
The king looked toward the voice he hadn’t heard since childhood and smiled at his favorite uncle.
“Uncle N’Jobu.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you look just like your father?”
T’Challa bristled at the mention of T’Chaka by the man whose life he took, but he was happy that N’Jobu’s kind eyes showed no sign of ill-will towards him.
“Only my entire life,” the king announced proudly.
“Your head isn’t as big, though.”
N’Jadaka snorted, and T’Challa tried his best to stifle a chuckle when he felt a hand slither around his waist. He looked down at Nia and kissed the healed patch of scalp on her crown where Asha ripped out her braid.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your address. You should finish.”
“You ruined nothing, sithandwa.”
“Still, go ahead.”
T’Challa nodded and turned back toward the crowd, tapping Nia on the shoulder to get her to do the same. When she whipped around, her jaw nearly hit the floor. Dozens of panthers were making their way through the crowd of soldiers and gathering at the bottom of the steps. Their eyes were glued on her as they moved, and when they got close, they bowed to her.
T’Challa grabbed Nia’s hand and stepped forward again.
“As you can all see, Nia is very special. She is a descendant of Bast herself.”
Gasps echoed around the crowd as T’Challa joined the panthers in their show of respect. One by one, everyone bowed to Nia, including her father. She looked around, at Amita and M’Baku, at Okoye, at Mandla, at Sego, and she couldn't take it. The emotions overwhelmed her and flowed out of her eyes in a river of tears.
“Get up,” she fussed at T’Challa, dismissively waving her hand at him. He caught it and placed a kiss on the back before standing up and intertwining their fingers.
“It’s what you deserve, my love.” He wiped her tears and kissed her lips softly, pulling her in by her waist. “Don’t cry. Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad, I-” Nia blinked tears from her curly eyelashes as she stared up at him.
His eyes felt like home.
Before she could stop herself, her emotions overflowed and the words she had been sitting on all day escaped her lips, “Nami ngiyakuthanda.”
T’Challa’s face slowly contorted as the realization of her words sank in, and pretty soon, he was all teeth as he grinned back at her.
She loved him, too.
And she meant it. Her heart hadn’t changed its rhythm when she said it. In fact, as the words fell from her lips, her body took on a subtle glow that grew in intensity when he smashed his lips to hers.
Cheers and whistles erupted around the crowd, but as quickly as the noise began, it ended even quicker when the king and his love vanished out of view.
---------
The two lovers pulled their lips apart when they felt the telltale sign of traveling between realms, and their masks simultaneously deployed from their necklaces. Unsure of where they would end up, they held on tight to each other as some unseen force pulled them through the in-between. Unlike Nia’s other experiences in the space between the realms, they were moving upwards, floating above the veils of the realms they called home towards another one she had never noticed before.
T’Challa couldn’t help but stare at the veils, their contrasting energy and swirling colors captivating him into silence. Even Nia was amazed at the view from above, but the view of the overhead realm was something marvelous. Every color Nia could ever imagine swirled together in a magnificent rainbow that sparkled like diamonds.
“What is that?” T’Challa asked, his voice tinted with wonder.
Before she could answer, Nia felt a tugging in her gut, as if her body carried a memory that escaped her mind. It grew and grew the higher they climbed until the feeling became a recognizable sensation.
“Bast,” she gasped.
“You feel her?”
Nia nodded and held on to T’Challa as they breached the shining, multicolored realm. They were blinded by a bright light that quickly subsided, and as they blinked their eyes, their surroundings became clear. Several gods were staring down at them from golden thrones on a semicircle dais in a massive marble temple. Statues of each deity loomed over the backs of their thrones, and there were three empty thrones to the right of the center: the farthest had a statue of Bast over it that looked as though it had been untouched in eons, the next one had a statue of Sekhmet and also looked to be unused, and the one closest to the center featured a statue of a woman with the head of a cow.
A tall man with the head of a falcon and broad, bejeweled shoulders sat in the middle of the semicircle. Bast flanked him on one side and an equally-decorated cow on the other.
“Welcome to your ancestral home, Nia,” he spoke.
“Home?”
“Yes. This is the realm of the gods.”
Nia’s eyebrows nearly reached her hairline, but she quickly translated for T’Challa. His expression matched hers, and they both lowered their heads in deference to the surrounding gods.
“Nia, T’Challa, I am Ra, God of the Sun, father to Bast and Hathor here… and Sekhmet,” Ra introduced himself with a certain heaviness in his eyes when he mentioned his middle daughter. “It is my pleasure to meet you both, but especially Nia.”
“She looks just like you, sister,” said the cow, and Bast smirked.
“She does,” Ra chuckled. “Nia, step forward.”
She released T’Challa’s hand and did as he said, walking closer so that she could see the kohl lining Ra’s penetrating dark eyes. Nia held her head high, but internally she was conflicted. Her every cell was abuzz with the energy emanating from the god realm. Not only was she feel like she was recharging simply by being there, but she was getting to meet her family. Her divine family… family that could have put a stop to all the madness before it even began. Yet, they didn’t, and she just had to know why.
Ra sensed the same tension within her that he recognized from when his own daughters dealt with inner turmoil, and he reached his hand out to her, smiling when she placed her palms in his.
“I sense you have something to say. You may speak your mind here.”
His openness surprised Nia, and she decided to take advantage of the opportunity while she had the chance.
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
Ra sighed and looked down at his bare feet.
A haughty laugh echoed across the throne room, and Nia turned towards the sound.
“I have asked him that countless times,” said a deity with the head of a jackal.
“Anubis-”
“No, answer her, Ra. Thousands of souls go missing from my realm, and nothing. Had you acted sooner-”
“I am aware!” Ra bellowed, and Anubis looked on with a smirk, satisfied from getting Ra riled up.
“Ra,” cooed a goddess with the lower body of a fish and the upper body of a beautiful woman. Her melodic voice seemed to soothe Ra, and he relaxed at the very sound of his name from her lips.
Nia wondered momentarily if the goddess was connected to the sirin in any way, but her curiosity didn’t have much time to grow because the conversation continued.
“Do not let him shake you up, brother,” said a sharp-tongued man with six arms seated to Ra’s left.
“Thank you, Anansi, but he is right,” said Ra before turning his attention back to Nia.
“My actions in the past led to a fracturing in my relationship with my two youngest daughters centuries ago. It wasn’t until today that I laid eyes on either one in centuries,” he explained. “When Thoth and Mujaji told me my youngest was missing, I… I nearly lost myself. Then to find out the culprit was her own sister? And on top of that, my eldest daughter delivered a baby for her without my knowing-”
“Baba-” Hathor began, but he raised a hand to stop her.
“I am not upset at your actions, I am upset at mine and Sekhmet’s. I should have never sent her and Bast away.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room. “You tried to tell me… all of you did.”
“Ra, it is in the past now. Let us move forward,” said Thoth across the room, and Hanuman echoed his sentiment.
“The wrongs have been righted. That is what matters,” said the gorilla god.
“What will happen to Sekhmet?” Nia asked.
“We will attempt to rehabilitate her, no matter how long it takes,” answered Kokou, his flame blazing brightly from his throne.
“And we will keep a closer eye on her in the future,” said Mujaji, and Nia and T’Challa both admired his current form which looked like a walking acacia tree.
“Nia,” Bast cooed and placed her hands around Nia’s face, “you have helped bring peace to the realms and to our family, and for that, I am forever grateful to you.”
Nia looked away sheepishly, unable to adequately accept the praise coming from her ancestor.
“I know you have done so much already, but I do have one more request of you.”
“What is it?”
Bast looked behind Nia, and her eyes fell on T’Challa.
“Come here, king.”
T’Challa made his way up the steps and stood next to Nia.
“T’Challa, Nia is going to need your help.”
“I will do what I can, but what will she need help with?”
“Ruling the magic realm.”
“I’m sorry, what?!” Nia’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
“Nia, I am giving the magic realm to you. Become its queen and rule it as you see fit.”
“But, I’m not royalty-”
“Nonsense!” Ra boomed, waving his hand dismissively. “You are descended from gods, my dear. You are more than simple royalty.”
“The magic realm needs you, Nia. They need a leader who can navigate both worlds, one with your powers, your heart.”
“I don’t know the first thing about being queen-”
“You will learn,” said Kokou with a wink.
Nia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and if it weren’t for the heat radiating off T’Challa’s body next to her, she would have thought she was hallucinating.
Queen of the magic realm.
A queen.
Nia, Aziza Queen of the Magic Realm.
Nia had to let the words sink in. She’d had a title, she’d have responsibilities to her nation…
“What do I even do first? The realms are a mess right now.”
“Well, dear, your first order of business should be if you want to human and magic realms to stay open to each other.”
“That’s an option?” T’Challa asked.
“Of course it is! Especially now that the humans know of the magic realm’s existence.”
“However, there is one rule,” Ra stepped in. “The dead cannot stay.”
Nia’s heart sank into her stomach.
“Why?” she asked.
“It is not the way of the world. They are not meant to walk the realm of the living, hence why they are not fully formed.”
“Can we have some time with them?”
“I will need time to heal before I can fully clean up Sekhmet’s mess, but then they have to go home,” Bast instructed.
Nia nodded solemnly, and T’Challa placed his hand on her back to steady her.
“I know I just laid a lot on you, but believe me, Nia, I would not do so if I did not think you could more than handle it. I will be with you every step of the way-”
“As will I,” said T’Challa, kissing her temple.
“Now, you two, time to go-”
“Wait,” Nia stopped Ra before he could send them back. “I’ll be the queen of the magic realm, but I have two things I would like to ask for, in return, please.”
“Very well,” Ra gestured for her to continue.
“The heart-shaped herb… the humans have lost theirs, and I would like permission to give it to them again.”
Bast smiled at her.
“Permission granted. What else?”
“My friend, Amita. She dabbled in dark magic when we were younger and injured her hands. I have tried to heal her, but couldn’t remove the dark magic still under her skin. Is there something you can do?”
“You are sure this Amita is trustworthy?”
“I am.”
“Then yes, she will be taken care of when I have my full strength back.”
“Thank you,” Nia bowed her head to her ancestor.
“No, thank you, Nia.”
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Amita leaned on M’Baku’s shoulder as they watched the soldiers leave Birnin Mutata. They rested on the Necropolis steps aside the remaining panthers, Amare, Okoye, and Mandla. N’Jadaka was deep in conversation with N’Jobu and Sego about their realm when Nia and T’Challa suddenly shimmered back into view right where they left. Naturally, everyone rushed to their sides, speaking over each other, all wondering where they went.
“The realm of the gods,” Nia answered with a sly smile.
“And…” T’Challa nudged her side to get her to continue.
“And I-may-or-may-not-be-queen-of-the-magic-realm-now,” she rushed out excitedly.
“I’m sorry, say that again,” Amare asked. The shock on his face let Nia know he heard right the first time but needed to be sure.
“You are all looking at Queen Nia, ruler of the magic realm,” T’Challa announced proudly as he twirled her around for all to see the new royal.
“You’re the queen now?” Amita asked, her jaw nearly on the floor along with everyone else’s.
“I am,” Nia grinned.
Amita squealed and pulled her into a hug, knocking T’Challa out of the way. She held her tight and rocked her from side to side before letting go and looking into her eyes.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said, and Nia started to tear up.
“So am I,” said Amare.
“Me, too,” added Sego, and the two of them wrapped their arms around their favorite girl.
“Nia, it will be an honor serving you,” said Mandla with a bow.
“So what’s first on the docket, queen?” N’Jadaka asked.
“I don’t even know yet-”
“She has plenty of time to figure that out,” T’Challa stepped in, and she broke away from her family and friends to wrap her arms around his neck.
“With your help.”
“With my help.”
They kissed for a brief moment, then Nia’s stomach rumbled.
“You’ve worked up an appetite,” T’Challa teased.
“Shit, we all have. Y’all were gone two hours,” N’Jadaka fussed.
“Two hours?!”
“Yeah, girl, didn’t you know?” Amita asked.
“No, it felt like ten minutes tops.”
“Time moves differently in other realms, I guess,” said Sego.
“What did we miss?”
“The former zombi and obambo victims are healing at the hospital, and we have contacted their loved ones,” said Okoye.
“And the clean-up and burial process will start as soon as I give the order,” added Mandla.
“Good,” said T’Challa.
“Auntie’s already planning a victory dinner; we’re just waiting on your ass to get back.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time.”
The group traveled back to the palace, where they were met with open arms at the palace gates by Ramonda, Shuri, and Celeste. T’Chaka was there, of course, and when he laid eyes on his brother, he could have died a second time. N’Jobu walked up to him and said nothing, only glared at him with fury in his eyes. His anger wasn’t even over the fact that he was staring at his own murderer, but that the man had abandoned his own flesh and blood.
“N’Jobu, I-”
N’Jobu breezed past his older brother and introduced himself to Shuri while Celeste attempted to cover her family in hugs and kisses.
“Nia has big news,” Amare boasted.
“Ubaba-”
“What? I can’t brag on my daughter?”
“So, what’s the news?” Celeste asked.
“I’m in charge of the magic realm now… Bast appointed me the queen.”
“My baby!” Celeste threw her arms around Nia once more, and the new queen smiled at her mother.
The group made their way into the palace, where they broke off to go to their respective quarters to shower off the battle and change into something for dinner.
All felt right with the world as they dined in the formal dining room with the council elders from both realms, head tribal warriors, priests and priestesses, and their families. Slow-roasted goat meat that fell off the bone and onto their plates filled their stomachs along with ever-flowing wine and a smorgasbord of side dishes and desserts. Chef Omar had gone all out for the occasion, and every living being present had their fill.
Mandla and Okoye proved to be a great team off the battlefield as well as they recounted the fight with animated vigor, keeping everyone entertained and the mood lifted. When the dynamic duo eventually became too full to continue story time, Sego caught Amita’s attention from across the table.
“Thank you for being there for Nia,” he said, and she smiled back at him.
“No worries. I just wish I had known how dope she was when we were back in school.”
“Better late than never,” he shrugged.
Amita raised her glass to his words as the River tribe elder changed the subject.
“So, Nia, now that you are queen-”
“No business talk, Feli! This is a celebration,” Ramonda chided him, and he tossed his hands up in defense.
“My apologies, Queen Mother.”
Conversation flew across the table, and though Nia participated in it, T’Challa could see her mind was somewhere else. Every time someone called her name, he watched her check back into reality. She’d get lost staring across the table at Sego or picking at her plantains, so he grabbed her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss.
“Feeling alright?” he asked just above a whisper.
“Kind of overwhelmed, if I’m being honest,” she whispered back. She was enjoying being around her loved ones, but she was tired and had a lot to process from the day she’d had.
T’Challa nodded and kept an eye on her as she ate, waiting until she finished her meal to stand at the head of the table.
“Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate this victory with us.”
The table erupted in applause, deep celebratory barks from M’Baku, and whistling from N’Jadaka.
“It is late, and Nia is very tired after such a long day, so we will be taking our leave.”
“Queen Nia-”
“Please, Mandla, just ‘Nia’ is fine.”
“It is not. You are a queen, and I will address you as such! Now, Queen Nia, I would love to meet with you in the coming weeks to discuss the reconstruction of our realm.”
“Sounds good to me,” Nia said through a yawn as she stood from her seat, “I’ll call you.”
Nia kissed Amare’s and Sego’s heads before wrapping her arm around the bend of T’Challa’s outstretched elbow, and he led her out of the dining room.
“How tired are you?” he asked with his hands snaking around her waist, making her skin come alive from his touch as they arrived at the elevator bank.
“Not very.”
The elevator doors swished open, and they stepped on, his hands still glued around her waist.
“You’re my queen,” he murmured between kisses to the column of her neck.
“I’m a queen, not your queen,” Nia giggled as he nibbled on her skin.
“You’ve always been my queen, Nia,” T’Challa whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe. His hands busied themselves with caressing her stomach, and her hips, her thighs, her breasts…
“I guess I am technically Queen of Wakanda,” she caved, and he growled into her neck, pressing his growing erection into her round cheeks. His hands weaseled down the front of her colorful maxi skirt, past her panties and the tuft of curly hairs that framed her treasure trove, straight to her clit. “Mmm, baby.”
T’Challa trailed his tongue from her neck to her back and traced along the wing-shaped scars that decorated Nia’s exposed back, making her shiver.
The elevator doors swished open on his floor, and he walked her forward until they reached his door. Instead of unlocking it, he pressed her into the cold vibranium and ran his tongue down past the strings of her halter top to the dimples in her back. He pulled down her skirt and underwear, and she moaned as he took a bite of her left cheek then her right.
“T-T’Challa… baby, we should go insi-hmmm.”
T’Challa’s fingers on one hand had made their way to her dripping center and slowly circled her opening, and the other slapped her ass, making it bounce in his face. Nia moaned from the impact of the strike, and the pain radiated throughout her body, turning more and more pleasurable with every inch it spanned.
“Nobody is up here,” he rasped. “And I will hear them coming before they catch us.”
“You want it that bad?”
“You have no idea, sithandwa.”
Slap!
Nia’s eyes rolled to the back, and her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip.
“T’Challa,” Nia whined.
“Again.”
“T’Challa!”
“Mmmm.”
T’Challa’s tongue replaced his fingers without notice, and Nia’s hips jutted out, pressing his face deeper into her cheeks. He sucked on her clit, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves while precum dripped out of his own hardened dick into his silk drawers.
He ate her with the precision of a man on a mission to make his woman rain down his beard, and that she did. His tongue swiped up her juices, lapping at her plump folds while she keened loudly.
“That f-feels so good.”
Nia’s legs wobbled as she deepened her arch and reached back, pushing his face deeper into her pussy. She braced herself on the door with her other hand while T’Challa ravaged her. His tongue explored her hungrily while he freed himself from the constraints of his pants, stroking his length with one hand and holding on tight to Nia’s ass with the other. There wasn’t an inch of her pussy he neglected, and he drank from her when she blessed him with another orgasm.
While she was still twitching, he stood up lightning fast, and slid into her warmth, making her cry out in the empty hallway.
“Fuck, baby,” Nia hissed. She loved the stretch of him spreading her walls open and plunging deep inside, and the way his breath tickled her ear as he whispered filthy words of affirmation to her made Nia’s body tremble.
“You take me so well, Nia. Such a good girl. Always ready for me.”
“Yes.”
T’Challa’s hand wrapped around her throat and pulled her face towards his, opening his mouth and meeting her for a sloppy kiss, tongue first. He could taste the wine on her lips from dinner, and she could taste herself on his tongue as he stroked her deep, pushing her front up against the door.
“You like when I fuck you like this, don't you?”
“Mmm, yes, baby.”
T’Challa looked down between them and admired the way his dick shined with her juices.
“Got your pussy dripping for me.”
He reached around front and fingered her clit, making her hips buck back into him.
“Oooh, just like that. Throw it back on your king.”
“I’ve got a-a better idea,” Nia moaned as she wound her hips on him and his teeth sank into her neck.
“Talk to me, sithandwa.” T’Challa was struggling to keep it together with the way she was gripping his length.
“Let me ride you, baby.”
He pulled back from her neck and gazed into her eyes, burying his dick deep inside her.
“You want to bounce on my dick?” T’Challa teased.
Nia bit her lip and nodded, which prompted T’Challa to pull her lip out and suck on it as he drove into her repeatedly.
“Yes!”
“Get inside,” he growled and unlocked his door with his beads, slapping her on her ass and making her yelp. He pulled out from her, and she reached back for his hand, leading him inside the king’s suite.
Nia looked over her shoulder and admired the way his dick bobbed against his muscular thigh. It looked so delicious that she turned around and sat on the corner of the bed, pulling him closer to her face. Her mouth fell open, and the tip of her tongue flickered at the underside of his head as she led him into her warmth.
“Fuck, Nia,” T’Challa groaned, his hand resting on the back of her head, gripping her braids as she slurped up and down his shaft.
Spit and precum foamed around her mouth and dripped down her chin onto the tops of her breasts, and T’Challa needed to see more. He undid the ties on her halter top and snatched it off her body, freeing her breasts for his lustful gaze. He reached down and played with her nipples, making her hum around him as she took him down her throat.
Nia loved the taste of him alone, but the taste of them both drove her wild, and she got lost in the rhythm of sucking T’Challa’s dick. His moans filled the suite along with the loud slurping sounds Nia made around him until she pulled off of him and licked around his balls. She pressed her knuckles into his gooch while her tongue and lips took care of his sack and her other hand worked his shaft, her thumb swirling over his bulbous head.
“F-fuck, Nia,” T’Challa shuddered. “I’m almost there; keep doing me just like that.”
Nia rolled her knuckles just behind his balls, pressing into his prostate from the outside, and she felt his dick start to twitch. His breathing grew quicker, and his toes dug into his sandals while the muscles in his thighs tightened up. She quickly moved her mouth from his balls to the tip of his dick and took him in once more while he shot down her throat. Nia swallowed every drop before pulling off of him and stroking his dick, making sure she got every drop. He had more to give, so he spilled over her hand, and she licked up the mess, staring up at him with her big doe eyes.
She reached up and undid the buttons on his tunic before pushing it off his shoulders.
“Get on the bed.”
T’Challa was already sated from his release, but his dick was still hard and in her hand, so who was he to argue? The king climbed onto the bed and adjusted the pillows behind him as he sat against the headboard. Nia crawled over to him and settled herself on his lap.
“You think you’re ready for me? A queen?” Nia asked, and T’Challa’s eyes darkened with lust, making Nia giggle. “Will you let your queen ride you?”
T’Challa’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared.
“Answer me,” Nia whispered against his lips.
“Yes, my queen.”
Nia pressed her lips to his, and he welcomed her by parting his lips and making way for her tongue. She explored his mouth and lifted her hips, placing his dick at her entrance and squatting down on it so that it filled her up. When she was seated on his lap again, his length fully inside her, she began to rock in his lap, her hips cycloning and grinding her clit into his pelvis. Her movements were fluid as she rocked on him, and she eventually transitioned into lifting her hips and sliding back down.
T’Challa stared at her with admiration in his eyes. This woman, his woman, loved him.
“Tell me you love me.”
Nia smiled and kissed him.
“Ngiyakuthanda, T’Challa.”
T’Challa reached between them and fondled her clit, making her throw her head back in ecstasy. He latched onto her throat, and his hands gripped her hips, guiding her up and down his erection.
“Do you mean it?”
Nia placed her hands around his face and forced him to look at her in her eyes.
“I love you, baby. I mean it with my whole self. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner, I-” her voice cracked, and tears brimmed her eyes. “I was scared.”
T’Challa’s hands stilled Nia’s hips.
“Of what?”
“Of a few things. Being your queen, for one, but also loving someone means giving them the space to hurt you. Their actions, their words, their death-”
“Nia, I would never do anything to hurt you. You should know that by now-”
“I do.”
“I love you,” he pleaded.
“I love you, too.”
T’Challa spread his legs and thrust up into Nia with slow, precise strokes.
“You’re a queen in your own right, without me. You’re a goddess. You’re magic… Nia, I’d be a fool not to love you.”
Nia held onto his shoulders as he pounded up into her, hitting all her favorite spots while her breasts bounced in his face.
“Baby, I-”
“I know, I feel it. Let it out, love.”
T’Challa pushed Nia further up the mountaintop to her peak, where she seized up on top of him and covered him in her juices. The way her pussy gripped his length almost made him explode again, but he flipped them over so that she was on her back and dug deep into her.
Their bodies collided throughout the night as they celebrated both their victory and their love. T’Challa’s orgasms wracked through his body more intensely each time than the time before, and by his fourth, the strength of the Black Panther gave out. Nia giggled as he covered her neck with kisses and held her waist tight against him as he spooned behind her, his flaccid dick still resting in her depths.
“I’m glad you gave everybody the week off.”
T’Challa chuckled in her ear.
“That tired?”
“Mhm.”
T’Challa placed a kiss behind her ear.
“Get some sleep, sithandwa. I have big plans for you in the morning.”
“What plans?”
“Worry about that in the morning.”
“T’Challa, what pl-”
“Good night, my queen.”
Next Chapter
Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love—life—passion, @yourstrulybrii, @hon-eey, @ariesthetouchdeprivedgirl, @ashanti-notthesinger, @brattyfics, @cecereads209, @wakandan-smuts-forever, @miryalle, @rolemodelshit, @afrosandsweatpants, @queengodiva619, @goddessofmischief0711, @chereedrop619, @blkbutterfly816, @violettedelightz, @sarifinasnightmare, @afriendlyblackhottie, @brihann, @nonbineraryitinerary, @musicisme333, @strangeprincex
#black panther fanfiction#cecewritessometimes#t'challa x black!oc#t'challa fanfiction#t'challa fluff#t'challa smut#t'challa lemon#18+ only#aziza#black panther au#fantasy au#Spotify
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Do you think T’Challa is more submissive than people think?
Yeah... I’ve seen most fans take him as a very Dominant Daddy, and while I agree, I seriously think he’s more often into having his hands tied up and his head thrust into a pussy (or around a dick).
He’ll be your toy until you give him the permission- and when you do, his Dom side comes out to pin you down and fuck your brains out.
A lot like @tchallasbabymama‘s Thunderstorm; which you should surely read unless you have done so already. (in which case you should read it again.) (I’m also assuming you’re not Cece, because this was sent at 2 AM 😂)
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Have you ever used a double ended dildo?
Yes... but it's been a long time.
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"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Preview!
Summary:
N'Jadaka prepares to wed Yani, his influential Caribbean fiance, in the most anticipated social event across the land. The new King of Wakanda continues to make global changes on a level that T'Challa refused to do. The C.I.A.'s discovery of vibranium in the ocean brings on the re-emergence of Namor during a Mama Wati celebration. Wakanda's new battle with the Talokanil tests the Golden Jaguar’s resolve to transform his nation into the preeminent superpower on earth. He leans on Yani and Ramonda to reign in the serious infighting among the noble class while presenting Shuri with a life-altering choice: Take over the mantle of Black Panther in her brother's absence.
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“I will be one of the greatest
That is a vow, yeah, that is a promise
Always wanted to be famous
Just being real, yeah, just being honest
My haters gon' always be nameless
Give them no cloud, I give them no power
Creators built different, they ancient
Sooner than later, all will be ours…”
Iniko—“The King’s Affirmation”
King N’Jadaka Udaku of the Panther Tribe from the kingdom of Wakanda sat at the head table for the Congressional Black Caucus’s newly minted Pan-African symposium/dinner inside of the National Museum of African American History and Culture. The event brought together Black leaders from all over the world that wanted to take part in shaping their future with the influence of Black American politicians after the great disaster of the Infinity War.
The king sipped from a glass of lemon water with his young Executive Assistant Mpilo by his side, very much aware of the eyes dragging across his intimidating figure in the midst of seventy-five world politicians of African descent with their various entourages. Hundreds of women and men allowed to participate in the momentous gathering chanced looking his way to assess what kind of man he was on this rare occasion that N’Jadaka came to Washington, D.C.
He grew accustomed to being the rare Black man of real power surrounded by other Black leaders that tried to balance governing in the face of American neo-imperialism. The people in that room would’ve given up their firstborn child just to be in his presence, especially the representatives from Sudan and Ethiopia. Thanos’s ridiculous plan to snap problems away only created more dire ones on earth and Africa suffered as a result. The rise of new warloads and the loss of faith in democracy sprouted far and wide. Slavery, coups, and genocide had ramped up. Troubled nations in the motherland looked to Wakanda and not the U.S. for leadership, and that made N’Jadaka’s stay in his former homeland dangerous. The C.I.A. had a bench warrant of death on his head. Western powers wanted the king of Wakanda eliminated.
The Golden Jaguar sighed and pressed his hands on his thighs and flexed his fingers to offset the ribbons of tension coursing through him. Despite it being an all Black affair, there were enemy ops in the conference hall among them. The Dora Milaje and his Onyx Squad remained visible and dispersed throughout the perimeter, their smart-looking uniforms marking them as superior protection among the American security hired to keep unwelcome outsiders from trying to sneak an audience with the Wakandan king.
This attempt at a heavily-publicized gathering of Black international elites became a way for powerless Black politicians in the U.S. to rival and possibly supplant N’Jadaka’s influential UDC creation that made waves in under a year. No matter what power-to-the-people slogans were used to get them in office, Black American politicians were still…politicians. No different than their white counterparts that only worried about getting re-elected and stuffing their pockets with money, connections, and a fat board member assignment or consultation position on some corporations dime after retirement. No matter the pithy declarations about supporting the Black community he heard all evening, there were wolves in the room seeking access to more power. The white American power structure lit a fire under the CBC’s ass to put together something that would convince diaspora Africans to join with them instead of the Wakandans. N’Jadaka knew what it was and decided to participate anyway. Just to let the CBC know he was watching them closely and feigning diplomacy. America was a weak and decaying order. The bored king found solace in knowing he would be its demise.
N’Jadaka tapped his hand on the fancy table cloth. Mpilo took note of his mood and quickly checked his comm tab for the expected time of arrival for Yani and the children. The trip abroad had lasted two weeks, most of it spent at the United Nations in Geneva, and meetings in New York, London, and South Africa. N’Jadaka cancelled a trip to Saudi Arabia when one of the crown princes of an oil billionaire insulted him on a viral vid. He made an example of them by snubbing a much-anticipated visit there. Any form of anti-Blackness anywhere was swiftly aired out. Mexico, Argentina, Spain, France, Italy, and the Dominican Republic were already smarting from his public call-out of their treatment of Black people due to an increase of racialized violence targeting poor Black citizens in their nations. With Yani’s urging and Ramonda’s powerful voice as an ambassador, there was a rallying call against global femcide in the wake of the disappearance of so many people.
The U.S. didn’t let the great loss of citizens stop their continuing encroachment of resources and they took advantage of pumping predatory capitalism along. What could’ve been a moment of self-reflection, a shift in priorities, and a new way of being for the country as a whole was simply an opportunity to prey on weaker nations even harder. Their only hindrance in achieving more power was the rise of Wakanda under N’Jadaka’s leadership. He instilled fear in every nation that wanted life to go on the same way, and he also gave hope to those parts that saw a chance at progressive changes aligning with Wakanda. The western powers still gasped at his U.N. speech criticizing colonial apartheid in Palestine and Gaza. The gasp turned into full-fledged choking when he charged genocide co-signed and funded by the Americans. Once he pontificated on the historical similarities between Gaza, South Africa, and the Black American segregation of his own people, his War Dogs got wind of Mossad operations trying to penetrate Wakandan intelligence through the C.I.A.
Back home, the continent was split.
African nations that had long been ignored and left to suffer on their own benefitted from supporting Wakanda. N’Jadaka flooded their lands with tech support, agricultural advances, doctors, and a quick rebuilding of infrastructures with his Wakandan Humanitarian Corps that embarrassed the U.S.. At N’Jadaka’s urging, Azania and Caanan had stopped selling uranium, colbalt, and platinum to anyone outside of Africa in exchange for advanced agricultural expansion. Mining had ruined and polluted their lands with run-off depleting usable soil and water. Rapid climate change didn’t help them either and the neighboring nations were on the verge of famine. Wakanda helped clean their water, soil, and air for free, allowing farmers to produce a bumper crop that saved millions from starvation. Those who had been malnourished received the best medical treatment, and once snatched from the brink of disaster, Azania and Caanan were staunch allies for good.
Niganda and Mohannda were a different story, currying favor from the CBC leaders and complaining to the U.S. president that Wakanda was a global threat to sovereignty. The other African nations galvanized by the freely given help, threw all of their allegiance to the Wakandans, thus leading other unaligned African nations to fear him creating a United States of Wakanda to rule them all.
It wasn’t a bad idea.
He never acknowledged those types of concerns and just let the rumors grow to keep his enemies on their toes. His own father N’Jobu had flirted with visions of a united continent under Wakandan rule in his journals. Currently, N’Jadaka scrambled to replace War Dogs lost to the blip in order to keep his finger on the pulse of other nations.
“Princess Yani will arrive within the next two hours. They have crossed onto the Atlantic,” Mpilo said.
N’Jadaka nodded. He gave Mpilo a full-time job as his personal assistant since the loss of his father in the snap. The king had no idea the young man suffered that loss until months after the memorial honoring the lost ones. Mpilo did his work professionally until Yani brought the news to his attention. She recognized Mpilo’s family name from one of the palace attendants sending personal condolences to their staff on her behalf. When N’Jadaka questioned him, Mpilo broke down in tears in the king’s office. His father and two oldest brothers had vanished leaving behind his mother and baby sister. Barely an adult, Mpilo now had the responsibility of looking out for his immediate family. N’Jadaka terminated his fellowship and gave him a permanent job title as his executive assistant.
The king let out a sigh of relief. He needed to be with his family again. Normally Yani would be with him, but she was on her own global tour promoting her book, “The Wakandan Way of Birth”. Their children traveled with her and he caught interview segments of her in three countries. The world was enamored with the exotic princess. It was her first appearance outside of Wakanda representing the nation. N’Jadaka grinned thinking about the reaction of the Caribbean. The entire region went nuts finding out officially that an island girl had snagged the most powerful man in the world.
She promoted the book in St. Thomas first, and he hated not being there with her. She traveled to Jamaica next to visit the land of her father and paid her respects to their relatives there. In the midst of the new global normal, Yani’s book became a smashing success. All proceeds went to funding her midwifery scholarships to further the number of Black and Native midwives and doulas learning at the Wakandan birthing centers. The money allowed women to focus fulltime on their craft without monetary restraints. She planned to give more once she became queen because the palace allotted a salary for Queen Consorts that she planned to use for more income-based scholarships. Wherever there were Black and Indigenous women in need, Yani made sure they took priority over anyone else.
Everyone wanted their hands on the book. A Wakandan publishing company mass marketed the coffee-table sized manauscript, and they looked exquisite. The cover was created by a Birnin S’Yan artisan who made a vibranium-tinged dye that was threaded into a gorgeous royal purple and silver cloth overlay. The book had fifty full-page color photos that Yani spent months agonizing over from a total of 200. The cover photo itself deserved to hang in a museum. It showed a young woman holding her newborn daughter and they were both dressed in the vibrant colors of the River Tribe.
When the pre-release online sales skyrocketed, Yani made the decision to only provide non-online sales out of Wakanada through global Black bookstores. The international brick and mortar stores made bank with the flood of non-Black customers wanting their hands on something from Wakanda. Even people who weren’t even interested in childbirth or culture clamored to snatch up a copy just to get a glimpse of what Wakanda looked like from the inside. The first print sold out in one week.
The talks finally ended and the affair moved into a spacious outdoor dining area where a small jazz trio played music in a corner. The balmy weather made it comfortable to be outside and he took in a deep inhale of D.C. air.
Okoye and Ayo kept the pre-dinner rush to talk to the king at a distance, giving N’Jadaka time to snag a moment of peace. After ten minutes he shook hands and greeted caucus leaders, trying not to look annoyed at their requests for selfies with him. He obliged to be polite and to give an air of camaraderie. Everyone wanted everyone else to think they had connections to him by how loud they talked or laughed with him. He knew the drill.
The hosts ushered his entourage to their dining seats near the front of another podium. No one pretended to be sly about sneaking candids of him with their smartphones.
“King N’Jadaka, your son is here to see you right away,” Ayo whispered in his ear.
N’Jadaka looked around and spotted Riki walking out from the museum with his personal Dora, Quamba. All the diners stopped to watch the prince of Wakanda walk through with his hands behind his back and his eyes searching for his Baba. Some people tried to snap photos of Riki, but all of N’Jadaka’s children wore necklaces that thwarted any cameras from getting clear pictures of them by jamming up electronics and flash photography cameras.
Riki looked too clean.
Yani braided his hair in the spiral style of his Wakandan ancestors, threaded with shells and beads that bounced around his shoulders. This week, Riki wore jade and black fingernail polish decorated with mini panther claws in bright gold which was the rage of young children in Birnin Zana who loved their local team that played a popular sport called ukudlala ngomlenze…leg play. It was a game that required balance, and intense leg flexibility as two teams battled each other on a low swinging wooden bridge that moved across a deep body of water. One member of each team took turns standing in the center of the swinging bridge as the other team members of the challenging team split up on either side to rock the opponent off their feet, without any of their own teammates falling over too. The narrow bridge swung higher and higher, pushing athletes to go against gravity, their exhausted limbs put to the test for long durations. N’Jadaka had promised Riki a trip to the national competition in the River Tribe territory once they returned home.
Riki’s black royal sash rested snug across his chest with the family crest blazoned on it. The boy was seven-years old and sprouting a bit of height. He was almost as tall as Sydette and would probably surpass her by the time he was eight. Riki’s eyes lit up when he spotted N’Jadaka.
“Baba!”
The boy ran past chuckling adults who admired the tailored royal suit and polished shoes. N’Jadaka held his arms out and his son jumped onto his lap and kissed his cheek. The happy king wrapped his child up in love.
“I’ve missed your busy behind,” N’Jadaka said. “Where’s your Mama and the girls?”
“Changing clothes. I couldn’t wait to see you,” Riki said, squeezing his arms around N’Jadaka’s neck.
“Good trip, Dumplin?”
“Yes. People went crazy for Mama and her book. I’m ready to go home though. I don’t like this country…the people here are so fake. They only like you if you’re rich or famous.”
“Hungry?”
Riki nodded and scanned the tables for the evening’s selection. He scrunched up his nose at the servers placing rolls and butter on the tables.
“Can we eat this food, Baba?” Riki asked.
“We have people watching the chef in the kitchen.”
The Udaku children had been taught to reject outside food unless their parents permitted them to partake. N’Jadaka had become cautious with poisoning and normally had his own personal chef make all of their food, but he opted to watch the American cooks this time around instead of turning down a plate. The head chef for the evening was a famous Black American from New Orleans who read that N’Jadaka liked food from that region and wanted to create a menu to impress the powerful king.
“Sit next to me,” N’Jadaka said, pulling out a chair for Riki.
Mpilo took a seat across from them at the circular table that seated twelve. Members of the CBC organizing committee greeted him then took their seats at other tables. The jazz music grew softer as guests took their seats all throughout the guarded space. A congresswoman from Philly took to the podium near N’Jadaka’s area and announced the arrival of Yani and Ramonda. Eager applause broke out and N’Jadaka stood up from his seat. He helped Riki stand in his chair so he could see his mother and aunt enter.
N’Jadaka’s Uncle Bakari escorted Yani and Ramonda together as Sydette and Joba walked in front of them wearing matching purple dresses with their hair twisted and pulled back with amethyst panther-shaped hair clips. Yani mesmerized the crowd in a shimmery emerald green dress that revealed all her curves. She styled her hair with extensions in an upswept fancy roll that denoted her status as queen-to-be. Ramonda had the crowd transfixed with her tall purple isicholo and deep purple gown. Uncle Bakari was dapper in his black tux. N’Jadaka’s grandfather Dante escorted Bakari’s wife Shavonne and they all made their way toward the front where their Dora Milaje escorts brought them to the king’s table.
Sydette and Joba dashed to him first and he picked up both girls and smothered their faces with kisses amidst their squeals of delight for being with him again. He put them down the moment Yani reached him and he couldn’t hide from the world his love for her.
His arms wrapped around her tight and he pressed his forehead against hers. The tense energy in his body drained down into the floor and he exhaled a long breath. Yani rested her arms around his massive shoulders, her perfume drowning him in memories of their shared bed and the last time they had been alone without the world watching their every move.
“Baby, I missed you so much.”
“I know. I couldn’t wait to get here and hold you.”
“You know these niggas is starin’ so we better play it cool for Ramonda’s sake.”
Yani giggled and pulled away from him. He kissed her hand and turned to Ramonda, giving his auntie double kisses on both cheeks. He hugged his grandpop next and finally showed love to his American aunt and uncle who raised him after his parents died. They all took their seats at the dining table. Yani sat at his right, and Riki, Joba, and Sydette took over his left side.
As the first courses of salads, soups, and finger foods were brought out, announcements were made. The head chef was brought out and recognized. N’Jadaka allowed the nervous man to take a picture with him holding up a plate of sausage gumbo with rice. There was special recognition given to Yani, along with a surprise plaque presented to Ramonda for her role as an ambassador fostering goodwill between America and Wakanda.
N’Jadaka caught up with his aunt and uncle and the family chatter reminded him of being home except they were being watched like fish in a fishbowl. When dessert and coffee were brought out at the end of the meal, Ramonda switched seats with Riki and leaned in toward the king.
“President Mubiri would like to have a nightcap with you during the mixer inside the museum,” Ramonda said.
“Why?”
Ramonda’s sharp eyes observed the guests.
“He believes D.C. is neutral ground and he would like to discuss rumors of you inciting a coup in his nation.”
“Sounds like C.I.A. bullshit.”
“Even so, it wouldn’t hurt to appear cordial. Get some photos taken that shows two rival nations talking together. Yani is your icebreaker. Madame Mubiri is here, too. A nice photo-op of beautiful African women mingling will make the CBC very happy.”
N’Jadaka glanced at Yani’s fingers. She had on her deadly finger armor. Hopefully she wouldn’t threaten the man again.
He signaled for Quamba and several Onyx Squad security to take his children and grandfather back to their penthouse suite at the hotel they were lodged in for the weekend. He hugged and kissed the children promising to read a bedtime story to them later. People moved out of the way and stared at his heirs. All three children walked like royalty, heads held high, backs kept straight.
The after dinner mixer started inside the lobby of the museum where a giant abstract art installation above their heads looked like the unfurling of giant bronze ribbons. N’Jadka read the description of the sculpture that was supposed to represent the swinging motions like a band of angels coming down to carry Black Americans back home like the old spiritual “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”. The artist, Richard Hunt, used suspended cables to anchor the work, and the swooping arcs of the bronze bands reminded N’Jadaka of his mother’s arms around his body when he was small.
Several servers traipsed the lobby carrying drinks and savory finger foods. A D.J. played contemporary R&B and the guests relaxed into full-blown partying mode. Bakari and Shavonne headed toward a display of Harriet Tubman’s shawl further inside the museum and Mpilo escorted Ramonda to meet some caucus members who were dying to be seen with her.
N’Jadaka held out his arm and Yani rested her hand on it. She walked with a majestic stride that matched his and they mingled for a bit. Yani’s charm was her greatest weapon and they spent a considerable amount of time discussing her book and tour. Her radiance overwhelmed a few people who couldn’t stop admiring her even as they moved on to other guests. The allure of power was a true aphrodisiac, and Yani wielded it well. All of her Wakandan training and years of experience dealing with all sorts of people paid off in spades as she delighted American dignitaries. He couldn’t stop staring at her himself. Her voice lit up his face and he smiled at everything she said. Yani’s youth also surprised people. She would be entering her late twenties soon enough, but carried a greater maturity and self-awareness in the last year representing Wakanda internationally.
They worked the first three corners of the lobby before the mixer branched out to the rest of the museum, and they headed toward President Mubiri and Madame Mubiri who lingered near a replica of a slave quarter. The Mohanndan president stood with a glass of liquor in his hand entertaining cronies as his wife watched her husband’s dour animated face with his uppercase gums spilling over his lowercase teeth. Her eyes sparked up when Yani approached holding out her hands toward the woman.
“Madame Habiba Mubiri, I finally get to see you again in a less formal setting,” Yani enthused.
Yani ignored Mubiri and immediately pulled Habiba away from her husband, touching her hand in informal friendship.
“Mubiri,” N’Jadaka said, offering his hand. Mubiri shook it.
“King N’Jadaka.”
Yani reached for a glass of wine from a server that had been freshly poured from the bar. She presented it to N’Jadaka using the ancient submissive stance of queens in Wakanda, holding the glass up to him with her right hand, while her other hand cradled the elbow of the serving arm. N’Jadaka caught the lust in Mubiri’s eyes again for his fiancé. He took the glass from Yani and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, baby,” he said.
“May I please borrow Madame Mubiri? I would love to introduce her to the head organizer,” Yani asked Mubiri.
It was clear that Mubiri didn’t want his wife to do anything, but Yani’s seductive voice couldn’t be denied. She played on the man’s need to control women by asking his permission. Her earlier exaggerated submissive act toward N’Jadaka fed into the man’s cultural ego. Yani upped the ante by touching his arm and squeezing it. Her touch ignited something in the president and he lifted his wife’s arm and practically threw her at Yani.
“I’m sure you two have some important things to discuss without us present,” she added.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Mubiri said, his gaze plastered all over Yani’s figure as the two women strolled further into the heart of the museum.
N’Jadka pretended to drink his wine while being focused on something else until Yani was gone.
“I thank you for the personal invitation to your wedding King N’Jadaka. I didn’t think you would extend us any welcome to your country again.”
“It’s a time of celebration, not political intrigue. Yani wanted your wife there. They have been corresponding for a time getting to know each other. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
“And miss the nuptials of that delightful woman you parade around like a trophy? Never. We will attend and enjoy the splendor.”
They both drank in silence.
“Did you like the tour of the museum earlier?” N’Jadaka asked.
“An intriguing history lesson. You must be proud of your heritage here.”
“I am.”
“Rebels at heart. I see why the Americans want to control you.”
“I know you don’t want to stand here and shoot the shit about my lineage. You want to know if I’m plotting to throw you out of office.”
Mubiri choked on his drink as N’Jadaka stared at his face. The Mohanndan’s cronies flicked their eyes away in embarrassment, not expecting the king to be that blunt.
“What would I gain from having you taken out, Mubiri? There would only be another leader who thinks the same as you, so nothing would change. Pinning your hopes on the Americans holding me in check has not paid off in a year. I offer nothing but hope and a chance at directing Africa’s vast internal wealth and ancient wisdom back to where it belongs…on all of our people.”
“Our people? You Wakandans are stand-offish and think only of yourselves. These little excursions into other African nations giving them little trinkets of your resources reeks of a ploy to rule over us all. At least your uncle acted like a benevolent father-figure in the west.”
“My uncle was not the man you all think he was. I am telling you now, to your face Barasa Mubiri…I have no plans for a coup, an assassination, nor war with your country. Did you not read my fiancé’s book? Wakandans value peaceful living, enhancements to prolong life, and self-actualization that benefits the whole and not just the individual. We kept to ourselves for centuries even when we had the means to colonize the world and bend it to our will. But we didn’t.”
“I still think that is an option in your arsenal, King N’Jadaka.”
“I am from the school of ‘don’t start none, won’t be none’. My goal is transformative liberation for whomever wants it.”
“So-called liberators often transform into something sinister, if given the chance.”
The king moved closer to the east African president, closing the small gap between them.
“I only plan to bring hell to those who mean us harm. Do you plan to cause problems for us with this U.S. administration?” N’Jadaka asked.
Mubiri shook his head and smiled.
“I want peace and prosperity for our people too.”
“Good. You have heard directly from my mouth what I want. Let’s spend the rest of the evening showing the world that Africans can co-exist on the continent without people confirming their biases about us being warlords and despots. We can be civil with our disagreements. Everything doesn’t have to be bloodshed, or rumors of hostile take-overs.”
N’Jadaka excused himself with Okoye by his side.
#King Killmonger The Golden Jaguar#King Killmonger#Killmonger Fanfiction#Wakanda Forever#Namor#Black Panther Fanfiction#Uzumaki Rebellion#Uzumaki Rebellion Writes#Youtube
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∘⋆․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹ * fan fic tag game * ∘⋆․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹
HELLO @krankittoeleven! THANKS FOR THE TAG, WE ARE DEFINITELY HOMIES NOW :D i enjoyed your answers a lot; it's nice to meet you! ♥
1. How many fics do you have on AO3?
as of today, i have 50 fics on the archive!
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
426,518. jeez.
3. What fandoms do you write for?
predominantly avatar: the last airbender, though i have certainly dabbled in others over the years. right now i'm slowly working my way into the jujutsu kaisen fandom ♥♥
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Lemon, Two Sugars (zutara, rated M): 905 kudos.
Give It Up (zutara, rated E): 824 kudos.
Half Joy (vinceno, rated E): 457 kudos.
Lyk Dis (zutara, rated E): 425 kudos.
Put It Down (zutara, rated E): 414 kudos.
5. Do you respond to comments?
I DO I'M JUST ABYSMAL WITH TIMELY REPLIES. I'M SORRY I LOVE ALL OF YOU AND I READ EVERY SINGLE ONE I SWEAR <3
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
like the homie krankittoeleven, i pretty much only use angst as a plot device - there are only happy/hopeful endings in this household lmao - but if i consider context, the fic with the angstiest ending is probably Honorfall (zutara, rated E). maybe Of All the Things My Hands Have Held (zutaraang, rated M)..?
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
lots of my fics have happy endings ;))))) as for the happiest... ahh, probably If It Means a Lot to You (zukaang, rated M) and Flowers Never Pick Themselves (zutaraang, rated M).
8. Do you get hate on fics?
er, yes and no? i feel like hate is a strong word. it's more so that there are some readers who have simply ~disliked~ certain premises of mine, which, y'know, is what it is! click away or write your own shit! ♥
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
the good kind, baby, and absolutely nothing less. if it doesn't make me wet, i don't post it!
10. Do you write crossovers?
i used to! especially with and amongst irl friends. if there was a fandom i/we were into, there was a harry potter crossover in our shared docs to go with it LOL.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
an entire fic? no, not to my knowledge anyway. but i've definitely had some scenes and dialogue grabbed and scattered across the web over the years.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no ;-; i've never even had art made for/inspired by my fics ;-;;;; one day though. one day i am going to write something [clenches fist] so fucking good...
13. Have you ever co-written a fic?
several times! said fics will not be seeing the light of today, but yes! i love a good co-write!
14. What’s your all time favorite ship?
once again, like the new homie i will not be picking just one and you will simply have to deal with it LOL. i am extremely down bad for tony stark/bucky barnes, tony stark/t'challa, tony stark/stephen strange.. okay i'm tony-centric, fuckin sue me. anyways. i still really love sesshomaru/kagome, zuko/katara, harry potter/hermione granger, trevor/alucard/sypha, and now gojo/nanami. when i tell you i am fERAL ABOUT NANAGO—
15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Take Care (zutara, rated M), and several other zutara fics that i have put into a graveyard so that even though they're unlikely to be completed, they can still be appreciated!
16. What are your writing strengths?
mmm. this is a bit hard for me to answer because i feel like i could use improvement everywhere, always. i could probably use some more work in my dialogue though (just having more of it, i think). with conflict resolution as well - circling back to angst, i usually gloss over it because i want [my] characters to have nothing but good times and good endings. i need to be less wary of putting them through some shit, which i am working on!
anywayyy. my biggest strength is my prose!
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
up for debate, but personally my weakness is outlines. i try to use them but my brain does not like having "rules" when it comes to creating a story, even if i am the one to write them ;;
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
i'm a native (american) english speaker, so this question feels.. odd? bc ~american~? but as a native english speaker, i absolutely don't mind at all. i love languages and i love letting them into my brain! i myself use words from different languages, especially in what i'm writing is based in another country/place of origin.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
inuyasha! no you cannot see it, it's lost in the ether!
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Real War is Far Easier (zutaraang, rated M) and Performance Issues (zutara, rated E), which was a gift to the wonderful @zutarawasrobbed! there's a whole universe there that nobody but the two of us know about and i can't wait for the day that everyone can laugh about it as much as we do LOL
∘⋆․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹ *∘⋆∘⋆․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹․⊹․∘⟡˖*⊹⊹․⊹․∘⟡
tagging: @nire-the-mithridatist @gemgirl28 @andthedicestopped and @fidget-scribbles ♥
#who is she and what has she done with ky#this was nice and fun thank you!!!!#nanago#zutara#zukaang#about#one of these days i will actually go back to writing castlevania#litarlly blame jjk sorry guys;;;#zutaraang#chayenzo#vincenzo
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People who were in the last round and will not be allowed again
Katniss & Prim (Hunger Games)
Chip & Dale (Disney)
Theo & Apollo (First Kill)
Mario & Luigi (the Super Mario Brothers)
DiNozzo & McGee (NCIS)
Mike & Nancy (Stranger Things)
Pugsley & Wednesday (the Addams Family / Wednesday)
Wanda & Pietro (MCU)
Lemon & Tangerine (Bullet Train)
Maja & Alejandro (Heroes)
Sonic & Tails (Sonic the Hedgehog)
Thor & Loki (mythology)
Thor & Loki (MCU)
Katara & Sokka (Avatar the Last Airbender)
Charlie & Torri (Heartstopper)
Peter & Nathan (Heroes)
Anna & Elsa (Frozen)
Henry & Piper (Henry Danger)
Cuphead & Mugman (The Cuphead Show)
Nebula & Gamora (MCU)
Sherlock & Mycroft (BBC Sherlock)
Tadashi & Hiro (Big Hero 6)
Wolverine & Sabertooth (Marvel)
Missy & Sheldon (Young Sheldon / The Big Bang Theory)
Dexter & Deedee (Dexter's Labratory)
Emily & Sophie (Elvendale)
Buffy & Dawn (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)
Mabel & Dipper (Gravity Falls)
Luke & Leia (Star Wars)
Sam & Dean (Supernatural)
Remus & Romulus (mythology)
Ben & Gwen (Ben Ten)
Any combination of Lucy, Susan, Ed & Peter (Narnia)
T'Challa & Shuri (MCU)
Zack & Ivy (Carmen Sandiego)
Tom & Jerry (Tom & Jerry)
Shaggy & Scooby (Scooby-dooby-doo)
Asterix & Obelix (Asterix & Obelix)
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My Masterlist
Top Gun + Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw
I’m Here Honey
Her
Jake “Hangman” Seresin
Głupia Cipa
Robert "Bob" Floyd
What's a wallflower?
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
Pete "Maverick" Micthell
Reuben "Payback" Fitch
Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia
Beau "Cyclone" Simpson
Javy "Coyote" Machado
Bullet Train Masterlist
Tangerine
You’re My Top Priority
Lemon
Ladybug
Wolf
Task Force 141 + Other COD characters
Captain John Price
Simon "Ghost" Riley
John "Soap" Mactavish
Konig
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Marvel Masterlist
Steve Rogers
Tony Stark
Pietro Maximoff
Thor Odinson
Bruce Banner
Peter Parker
Sam Wilson
Bucky Barnes
T'Challa
Scott Lang
Peter Quill
Loki Laufeyson
Matt Murdock
Howard Stark
Frank Castle
Harry Potter Masterlist
Harry Potter
Ron Weasley
Fred Weasley
George Weasley
Cedric Diggory
Oliver Wood
Neville Longbottom
Draco Malfoy
Blaise Zabini
Seamus Finnigan
Tom Riddle
Mattheo Riddle
Theo Nott
Enzo Berkshire
Criminal Minds
Spencer Reid
You are smarter than me.
Derek Morgan
David Rossi
Aaron Hotchner
Matt Simmons
Stephen Walker
Taglist
Just press the “ask me anything” button for requests, idk if there is one or not but if there isn’t just message me! I think u can do that too 😂
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♡ MUSE LIST UPDATE ; new muses tag dump .
hey friends !!! i've moved a few muses to the " request only " category , meaning i won't actively seek plots / writing with them , but if you want to ... be my guest . other than that , i've also added a few new muses , so here's the updated muse list ( which is in my carrd as well , ofc ) :
FANDOMLESS OCS : gloria baptiste / arlo byrne / rosalba domínguez / ian garcía / avi madhvani / maverick preston / eleanor rigby .
KINGFISHER OCS : kahurangi cohen / tijasar jameson / mirembe robinson / genevieve touissant - cohen / octavia vandenberg .
AFFILIATED OCS : eirik aegirson ( aff . to @valkryrior ) / chrysafenios / willow douglas ( aff . to @tendersores ) / clayton hughes / daithi of myrr ( aff . to @dragonsthrone ) .
CANON MUSES ( FILM & TV ) : billy dunne / jude feeny / ted " theodore " logan / ellie sattler / donna sheridan / johnny utah / john wick .
CANON MUSES ( MARVEL ) : kingo / valkyrie / steve rogers / t'challa ( what if ... ? ) .
CANON MUSES ( THEATER ) : vanessa morales / bernardo vásquez ( christian is now available on @lovesplendored ) .
CANON MUSES ( REQUEST ONLY ) : ballister boldheart / dionne davenport / frances " baby " houseman / simone jackson / brian johnson / lemon / alex owens .
#unvendaval ♡ psa.#tag dump.#threads ♡ ballister boldheart.#threads ♡ dionne davenport.#threads ♡ simone jackson.#threads ♡ brian johnson.#relationships ♡ ballister boldheart.#relationships ♡ dionne davenport.#relationships ♡ simone jackson.#relationships ♡ brian johnson.#study ♡ ballister boldheart.#study ♡ dionne davenport.#study ♡ simone jackson.#study ♡ brian johnson.#visage ♡ ballister boldheart.#visage ♡ dionne davenport.#visage ♡ simone jackson.#visage ♡ brian johnson.
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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.
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So...that Wakanda Forever teaser...
Look, I'm not gonna lie, I was NOT happy when Marvel announced they weren't re-casting T'challa, as I felt they should've kept his character seperate from Chadwick's passing. This teaser, though?...This teaser gave me hope.
At least from the outside looking in, it really feels like Ryan Coogler took the "make lemonade out of lemons" response with this sequel.
Our star died very tragically and suddenly? Let's make that a part of the movie and have the characters deal with it in story.
Wakanda is under threat for hiding their technological existence from the world? Let's make that a strength rather than a weakness; that Wakanda needs to learn how to survive without the guidance of their late Patriarch while their Matriarch is doing her best not to cave under pressure.
Mind you, I feel like Wakanda being under threat from other nations similar to it was always intended as part of the sequel, as the mid-credit scene from the first Black Panther implies, but still.
Also, curious to see how they handle Namor. Especially cause I really like the ancient, Aztec warrior sea nation vibe the Atlanteans got going on in the teaser.
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Valentine's Day (4) Masterlist
part one, part two, part three
A Day for Romance (ao3) - lemonsandstrawberries
N/R, 1k
Summary: Tony and Steve didn’t have a romantic Valentine’s day in years and when Tony decides to fix it, something unexpected stops him.
A Valentine Surprise (ao3) - Emiliemontage
tony/t'challa
N/R, 2k
Summary: Tony send a Valentine gift to T'Challa. What is it and what will be T'Challa's answer to it?
A Valentine Tree (ao3) - AnneAce
steve/bucky
G, 8k
Summary: Under the frosted tips of growing tree branches, two lovers met for the first time. Then for the second, third, and every time. They swear to each other that they'll be Valentines forever. Some childish promises growing into reality, and as their tree grows so does their love for each other and the family that they built.
a "we" thing (ao3) - lemxncow
wanda/vision
G, 1k
Summary: Wanda has to break it to Vision on Valentine's Day that she's pregnant, despite having broken up three months ago.
Be My Valentine (ao3) - Persiflage
phil/skye
Summary: Daisy gets a Valentine's card from a not-so-secret admirer.
Be My Valentine, Jerk (ao3) - DeceitfulHonesty
robbie/skye
M, 4k
Summary: It started as sparring partners. Then, roommates. Then, something more that neither of them were prepared for.
celebrations in five (ao3) - macbethattempest
bucky/darcy
M, 3k
Summary: The five festivals/holidays that Darcy Lewis and James "Bucky" Barnes celebrated.
(Christmas, Halloween, St.Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day, New Year's Eve)
Chance (ao3) - Lafaiette
peter/wade, steve/tony
T, 3k
Summary: Wade finally gets to meet Tony, the brilliant father of his boyfriend Peter.
Tony unfortunately has to meet Wade, the crazy boyfriend of his son.
Chocolate Kisses (ao3) - sadieb798
bucky/tony
M, 2k
Summary: Bucky's well crafted plan of proposing to Tony, like the lemon chicken, go up in smoke.
chocolate roses (ao3) - wombatpop
ned/peter
G, 602
Summary: Ned and Peter's first Valentine's Day.
Come Away With Me (ao3) - menel
frank/matt
T, 6k
Summary: Valentine's is around the corner, and Frank comes up with a plan.
Conversation Hearts (ao3) - liloau
steve/bucky
E, 4k
Summary: If you were to ask Steve, the only good thing about Valentine's Day is when the clock strikes twelve, signaling the beginning of February 15th.
Also known as 'International Discount Chocolate Day'.
Fake Date, Real Valentine (ao3) - Talliya
bucky/clint
M, 3k
Summary: Bucky is being hounded by some unknown woman, and goes to Clint for help in getting rid of her.
Stuck on You (ao3) - starkly
tony/thor
G, 1k
Summary: Thor figures out what to get the man who has everything for Valentine's Day.
The Day of The Valentine (ao3) - Rose_de_Noire
bruce/thor
G, 884
Summary: It seems to be a Midgardian tradition.
the one thing that's right (ao3) - delphidelphinium
katy/shang-chi
N/R, 1k
Summary: “I’m fine’d dude,” she hollers from the living room.
“Baby,” he starts as he places the cold towel on her forehead. “When you start adding d at the end of fine, you’re not fine.”
The Valentine Incident (ao3) - ibelieveinturtles
bucky/darcy, pepper/tony
N/R, 2k
Summary: Bucky’s into Valentine’s Day, Darcy isn’t, and Tony sees something he’s not happy about.
The Valentine Struggle (ao3) - QuestinWitchFace
yelena/kate/joaquín
G, 2k
Summary: “I need a valentine that says, ‘I adore you, and I want you in my life forever,’ but in the most platonic way possible,” Yelena tells the store clerk. She’s in a Hallmark store, a store dedicated entirely to cards and gifts, and yet she hasn’t been able to find valentines that express how deep her love is without making it romantic.
The woman looks at her through thick, blue-framed glasses and brushes her brown bangs out of her eyes. “Afraid of rejection?” she asks with sympathy in her voice.
Yelena scoffs. “No. I just need a card that isn’t romantic.”
Until the Last Rose (ao3) - ElisabethMonroe
sam/bucky
T, 7k
Summary: Flower shop owner Sam Wilson meets chaotic and chronic holiday flower buyer Bucky Barnes
Valentine's Day (ao3) - ShadowHaloedAngel
bruce/pepper, jane/thor, darcy/natasha, steve/tony, clint/phil
N/R, 9k
Summary: The five couples of the Camellia sinensis universe celebrate Valentine's Day in different ways all of which are equally significant to them.
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#rihanna#asap rocky#music#musician#Hollywood News#celebrity fashion#celebrity news#explore#explorepage#repost#news#instagood#instagram
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Do you want kinky roleplay in the DMs? Cuz I can delivery baby
(WARNING: LEMON)
There's still a 'human' in superhuman, anon dear... I put my heart in it even if it's kinky role play, so if I stretch myself too thin over the Kingdom, my family, my friends, and yet more friends, I may not be able to give enough to each of them.
I will let you know if I'm up to it in the first place, and also if my wife agrees to it, but for now, TL;DR, not really <3
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Under The Influence | Erik Killmonger
Chapter 3: ~Non-Business Related~
For Chapter 2: ~Burn It All Down~ click here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You heard the king-...." She felt a lump form in her throat and repeated the order to the other shamans so they would finally take action, burning the whole garden while Killmonger observed the landscape to make sure all of them would be burned down.
"I'm sorry my kings." Ven whispered softly while watching all the beautiful flowers turn into ash.
~~~
Killmonger stared at the huge flames in front of him, his mind lost in deep thoughts while letting go of his anger. Ven on the other hand had her eyes closed.
She couldn't watch what she had done.
"Your highness?" Her voice came out as a whisper while her eyes remained shut.
"Hmm?" He kept his eyes focused on the massive fire, but hummed to her to show that he was indeed listening and she could proceed.
"We should go back to the palace." She turned around so she could walk to the exit, but he stopped her with a strong hand wrapped around her wrist.
"In a minute." Killmonger didn't sound so aggressive anymore, not even a little angry, and she nodded slowly.
It felt like he was struggling with something at the moment and she looked up at him.
"Something wrong, my king?"
"Nah, I'm good." He shook his head and let go of her. "I just want to stay here for a little longer."
"As you wish." Ven bowed with her head and joined him watching the temple burn up in flames.
~~~
The cold night breeze sent shivers down Venery's spine as they walked through the royal gardens back to the palace and she rubbed her upper arms, trying to keep herself warm until she suddenly felt the weight of a heavy robe being dropped on her bare shoulders.
"I~.... Thank you...." She stuttered and wrapped the black robe tighter around her.
"Don't think much of it." He smiled a little and helped her inside and into the elevator. "So.... we're supposed to trust each other right?" He stared at the elevator doors while he tried to start some small talk since it got awkwardly quiet in there.
"Yes, we are." She confirmed and looked up at him, his dark chocolate eyes meeting hers.
"In non-business related conversations like this one, just call me Erik then." Erik smiled in a friendly manner, revealing his attractive dimples and she smiled back weakly.
He didn't want to give her a hostile impression of himself because that would never ever make her join his side and so his plan was to try and gain her thrust in a friendly way.
"Okay then, Erik." His name felt weird on her tongue somehow and she bit her lip.
"What's the matter? Can't get personal with your king now?" He tilted his head and raised his brow in a cocky way, watching her through the elevator's mirrors. "Because if I remember it correctly, you were being extremely close to your former weak ass king so it wouldn't be such a problem to do that once again right?"
"No.... it's just.... I don't know you that well and it feels unprofessional." She stuttered a little and held onto the robe tightly, still not really liking how he was talking about T'Challa.
"Don't worry princess, I'm giving you permission." He noticed he made her feel intimidated and slowly let go of his attitude. "Besides, I said only in non-business related conversations so no one else will hear you calling me by my name except for me."
Ven nodded slowly and then walked out of the elevator once it's doors opened for them, happy she could get some fresh air and create a small distance between her and him. It wasn't that she was scared of Erik or didn't trust him, but that exactly was the thing that scared and concerned her. She wasn't afraid of him. She did trust him. And that all when he had killed her best friend and a man that was almost like a father to her, to almost everyone. It was sickening to her that she had forgiven the man so quickly after he had done all those things.
"Erik....?"
"Mhuh." He opened the door to his bedroom and signed for her to come in as well which she did without hesitating.
"May I ask you what you saw back in the Ancestral Plane?" She played with the sides of his black robe and nervously waited for an answer to follow.
Erik slowly sat down on his bed with a sigh, the same hurt glance filling his dark eyes when he lowered his head. It took him a moment to decide whether he was going to tell her about his past or not, but then understood his adviser was supposed to be there for him and help him and so he ran his hand through his wild dreads before looking back up.
"My father." He spoke with a softer tone and she understood right away it was a sensitive subject. "He had plans to share the weapons of Wakanda with the rest of the world so that the African Americans who had so little power could defend themselves, but he never got the chance to do so because of my uncle. That fucking man had killed my daddy while I was playin' some basketball outside. He could have taken me in but instead preferred to leave me to die on my own."
"I'm sorry." He stared at his folded hands again and suddenly felt the huge mattress sink beside him. "That was never allowed to happen to you." The woman appeared to be sitting next to him and she laid her colorless hand on his folded ones.
"It's fine." He unfolded his hands, slightly pushing away her hand because he didn't want her comfort right now, and hid his hurt self away behind his confident face. "I will succeed for my father and my people."
"And I will help you achieve that goal." She added quickly. "It is perhaps already my oath to do so, but I also truly believe it's a good motive and that it will perhaps even help Wakanda's defenses and economy as long as this is all about keeping peace of course."
"I'm not planning to start a dictatorship princess, don't worry." He smirked a little and let himself fall back onto the soft bed, his arms tucked behind his head. "So what about you? How did you end up as the king's adviser in Wakanda because I know you aren't truly Wakandan."
"It's a long story and pretty difficult to explain...."
"Well, try it anyway. We got time."
"I don't believe we have." She watched her Kimoyo Beads light up and she opened a long message that was sent to her. "It's our new schedule for tomorrow. I should already be preparing things."
"It's 2 AM right now." He narrowed his eyes, feeling like she wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible even though that wasn't actually the case.
"I start real early sometimes.... or end real late." She got to her feet and bowed with her head. "Get some rest, my king. I will see you in the morning."
"Ven." He pushed himself up with his elbows. "You owe me your past girl."
"I know and I will tell you it when we have time, you have my word." He nodded at her and laid back down, watching her walk away.
Ven gently closed the door behind her once she left his massive room and then started to check if everything was alright before going to bed herself too.
The next morning, the woman was already up before everyone else was and stepped out of the hot shower. She wore a long white satin dress with spaghetti straps and a long split on her left side and let her hair hang loose over her bare shoulders. For today she left her make up alone, not really feeling like doing her eyeliner or lipstick and she crossed the hallway, knocking on Erik's door to wake him.
Erik had just come fresh out of the shower and lazily wrapped his towel around his waist, not bothering to get dressed before opening the door. "Hey, princess."
"Um, hey...." Her golden eyes landed on his muscular chest, water droplets sticking to his swollen muscles in a hot way.
He had probably worked out before he took his shower as his muscles were perfectly visible.
"Have you received your clothing for today?" She was able to control her eyes again and looked at his face, his soaked dreads covering his eyes.
"Yeah. Let me get dressed and we can start our day." He winked at her when he noticed her glaring and took a step back, his towel unbeknownst to him sliding a bit down to reveal his v-muscles. "Give me a min, aye?"
"Yeah.... yeah I'll be waiting here." She awkwardly replied, catching herself admiring his body once again and he smirked a little before closing his door.
Ven exhaled the air she didn't know she was holding and closed her eyes, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hall while waiting for her king to get dressed. It didn't take long before he was done, wearing only the black sweats and the black coat she had handed him and keeping his dreads messy.
It seemed he didn't like wearing shirts or he was doing this to simply mess with his adviser.
"So what are we supposed to be doing, Ma?"
"You really like coming up with nicknames for me...."
"Mhuh." He gave her a single nod before raising his brow, still expecting an answer from her.
"Oh yeah, right-.... when we get downstairs there will be a guard waiting for you, ready to give a tour of the palace. Normally I would be doing that myself, but I have a bigger thing to take a part in."
"What kind of thing?" He stretched his neck a little, his dreads following his movements.
Ven opened her mouth but right before she could say anything someone called for her and she smiled, deciding to keep it a secret. "I have to go.... take the elevator to the second floor and you'll find the man, your highness."
#black panther#n'jadaka#king n’jadaka#Erik Stevens#Erik Killmonger#erik killmonger x oc#nakia#t'challa#n'jobu#shuri#m'baku x oc#M'Baku#general okoye#everrett ross#marvel#marvel fanfiction#lemon#smut#angst#fluff#romance#venery gold (oc)#oc
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What’s the funniest thing that’s happened to you during sex?
(WARNING: LEMON )
I- *giggles* I was basically getting pegged one day, and Nakia had got a new strap on that she wanted to try. I was blindfolded so I let her do her thing... and I was going to come.... when I took it off and looked behind to make eye contact or whatever.
Turns out that all this time, she was railing me in a banana costume. With a dildo shaped like a peeled banana.
I screamed.
Nakia, everyone.
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Are we allowed to send NSFW ask?
Yeah Sure! actually, look at T'Challa's rules. They pretty much cover what I intend for my own blog.
Click on theses tags ⬇ to get their respective posts. #notcitrus is the clean content filter.
#ask nakia#notcitrus#signal boost#T'Challa#star lord t'challa#N'Jadaka#Shuri#lime#orange#lemon#grapefruit
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