Black Panther X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Imagine: getting a new nigga and Erik finds out and shows up to your apartment 💀🤦🏾‍♀️

Nothing.

T’Challa Udaku.

Requested: No

synopsis: t’challa has dinner with his girlfriend and he has something important to say

Note: the music would be advised for this imagine. what i listened to whilst writing this: il cielo in una stanza (italian), kissing you

Author’s Note: i’m sorry i was gone for so long x

The doorbell rings two times and startles her, she almost drops the plates in her hands. She fumbles with the fine china, she takes a deep breath and places the plates on the table she set for her and her boyfriend. 

She takes a deep breath and checks that everything is set correctly in her dining room, a nervous hand reaches into her hair, fidgeting with it anxiously.

The doorbell sounds again in the quiet apartment. She turns to the door, biting her lip. She clicks the play button for her speaker in the corner and walks briskly to the door. Her shaking hand pauses on the door handle, her teeth still embedded in her glossy bottom lip. She takes one last deep breath and checks her appearance fleetingly in the mirror. 

Seeing nothing abnormal, she lowers the door handle and pulls the door open. 

The oxygen basically flies out of her lungs when her eyes settle on her lover. 

She swoons when he gives the most enchanting smile she’s seen this whole week. “T’Challa,” she breathes, her eyes sparkling like those of a lovesick schoolgirl. Her hand falls from the door handle and quickly finds itself on her lover’s shoulder.

T’Challa looks at her with an easy smile. The sparkle of his teeth reflecting in her irises. His arms embrace her waist, his fingertips dancing shyly against the silk of her dress. “y/n.” He says evenly.

Keep reading

As he wished.

T’Challa Udaku.

requested: yes - Oh! I don’t know if you do songfic requests but if you do, would you mind doing an Erik or T'Challa fic based off the song ‘Good Man’ by Ne-Yo? I keep smiling at the thought of Erik or T'Challa in a meeting and putting it on hold when they see their lover is calling. - @wakanda-inspired (I couldn’t tag you)

synopsis: t’challa really misses you at his meeting, even though he has just come back from your honeymoon and you were just sleeping together

author’s note: i didn’t know what to do with this one @wakanda-inspired. i’m so sorry but i really wanted to give you something.

warning: Brief Depiction of Nudity, Implied Themes Of A Sexual Nature, Poor Editing

Papers lay strewn over the black vibranium table in the official boardroom of the royal palace of the Golden City. A new session of government was to begin in two weeks and T’Challa was ready for it to end already. His honeymoon had just finished one week ago and he was more than willing and ready to go back to the arms of his wife and his bed. 

He was craving the scent of his wife and the blissful comfort of having no demands made of him, other than his wife’s moans for more pleasure.

“My king? King T’Challa?” The river tribe leader leans over the table, attempting to catch his attention.

T’Challa blinks out of his reverie quickly and clears his throat, “Yes, sir?” He puts his index finger against his temple, barely hiding his disinterest.

“We must discuss further the funding for the dam for the river because if we are to receive further tourists we must have the water controlled further.” The tribe leader speaks emotively and T’Challa feels the inklings of a migraine in his temples.

“Of course and we will—“ T’Challa begins, with his eyes focused on the river tribe leader.

“But we must also think about the money for the border tribe’s extension of the…” the border tribe leader trails off his sentence, his lips quickly becoming stationary as T’Challa sends him a stern look.

“As I was saying,” T’Challa resumes as the border tribe leader clears his throat, “Of course the finances for the dam will be cleared. You’ll be pleased to know that I have already sent a proposal draft to my assistant who will then forward it to the minister of the treasury. And then, you shall hopefully accept the proposal.” T’Challa nods to the river tribe leader and he nods his head slowly in compliance.

“That would be most appreciated.” The tribe leader begins a speech about how good the great king T’Challa is, but T’Challa zones out as he feels a vibration in his left pocket. He frowns as he feels his pant pocket and pulls out an iPhone.

An iPhone his wife gave him, he watches his own reflection on the screen but his wife’s name is on the screen. He smiles at the realisation that she is calling him.

“Excuse me,” he pipes up suddenly, “leaders I must ask that we have a small break from this oh so important meeting. I have an important call to take.” T’Challa doesn’t even wait for those at the table to comprehend what he has said and he stands up from the head of the table and moves briskly into the adjacent room which serves as his part-time office. 

The call ends just as he closes the door of his office. He sighs in frustration and holds the phone in his hands and looks at in confusion. He knew that accepting this phone was a mistake, outsiders’ technology can be so primal and confusing for him. He squints in absolute confusion as he attempts to make the gadget work, and his wife makes it look so easy. 

And then it rings again, just the same as before and T’Challa smiles in delight just from seeing her name on the screen. Now he’s posed with an even more confusing challenge - to answer the call. He recalls his wife answering calls from friends and imitates the motion from his memory.

A small noise indicates the answering of the call and the camera pans to his wife. 

His glorious wife, laying on her back with her glorious naked body displayed purposefully on the camera. T’Challa groans as he sees that her nipples are erect and highlighted beautifully by the sunlight in their bedroom.

“Good morning darling.” She says dreamily. She smirks when she notices that he’s wearing his formal attire, and she knows she’s interrupted something important but most importantly he’s stopped to take her call. “You left without saying good morning or telling me where you were going.” She yawns and lifts her hand to cover her mouth. 

And T’Challa bites his lip, not understanding why that when she is doing the most mundane things she can still be and look like the most desirable woman in the world. Some would say it’s just a side effect of the honeymoon stage, but he would beg to differ.

“I apologise, my love.” He coos sweetly, taking a seat on his chair behind his vibranium desk. “I couldn’t wake you from such a deep sleep, you seemed quite tired.” He places the phone down on his phone stand. He leans forward on his elbows and sighs in contentment.

She chuckles, “And who’s fault is that?” She smirks and rolls over on the bed. T’Challa shrugs with a giggle and she huffs. “Well, I assume you were in a meeting?”

He nods, with a solemn expression, remembering the dull meeting he was in. “Yes, my darling I was.” He interlocks his fingers in front of his face and sighs.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to that then.” She rolls over again and goes back to laying on her back, and T’Challa dreams of physically being on top of her, and not just watching her on a screen. 

Her divine body was so close, yet so far. “No, my love, you must have something else to tell me.” He pleads, attempting to waste time so that the meeting time will end and he’ll be able to go back to her - physically.

She shakes her head and smiles, “No, I have nothing else to say.” She chuckles, understanding what he’s doing. 

“Well, what was the first thing you thought about this morning, my love.” He pipes up suddenly causing her to open her sleepy eyes.

“You.” She chortles. “Now, goodbye King T’Challa.” She waves goodbye at him, and his heart flutters at the sweet expression on her face.

“I’ll see you in a moment Queen y/n.” He sighs and she switches off the call. 

He stands promptly and heads back into the meeting room, only to be stopped by his assistant.

“Your majesty, I regret to inform that the meeting has to have been adjourned,” The man speaks quietly as T’Challa’s eyes pan over the meeting room noticing that only the mining tribe leader is left around the table, but she is only gathering her documents with her own assistant. “It seems that the river tribe leader and the border tribe are not able to keep their squabbles outside of the royal palace walls; so when you were in your office they had a small spat and we couldn’t keep everyone in the room.” His assistant purses his lips as he watches T’Challa pick up his scarf from the back of his chair. 

“Well isn’t that good news then.” T’Challa smiles victoriously. He places his scarf around his shoulders and pats his assistant on the shoulder. “Isn’t B’ast good?” He asks rhetorically as he leaves the room with a victorious chuckle.

And he finds himself on his way to a very sleepy wife to lay in her arms and lay in his bed as he wished.

Somewhere Secret (T’Challa x Reader)

Word Count: 2,677

Warnings: Smut, remote controlled vibrator, public sex, NSFW

Keep reading

Imagine: getting a new nigga and Erik finds out and shows up to your apartment 💀🤦🏾‍♀️

Nothing.

T’Challa Udaku.

Requested: No

synopsis: t’challa has dinner with his girlfriend and he has something important to say

Note: the music would be advised for this imagine. what i listened to whilst writing this: il cielo in una stanza (italian), kissing you

Author’s Note: i’m sorry i was gone for so long x

The doorbell rings two times and startles her, she almost drops the plates in her hands. She fumbles with the fine china, she takes a deep breath and places the plates on the table she set for her and her boyfriend. 

She takes a deep breath and checks that everything is set correctly in her dining room, a nervous hand reaches into her hair, fidgeting with it anxiously.

The doorbell sounds again in the quiet apartment. She turns to the door, biting her lip. She clicks the play button for her speaker in the corner and walks briskly to the door. Her shaking hand pauses on the door handle, her teeth still embedded in her glossy bottom lip. She takes one last deep breath and checks her appearance fleetingly in the mirror. 

Seeing nothing abnormal, she lowers the door handle and pulls the door open. 

The oxygen basically flies out of her lungs when her eyes settle on her lover. 

She swoons when he gives the most enchanting smile she’s seen this whole week. “T’Challa,” she breathes, her eyes sparkling like those of a lovesick schoolgirl. Her hand falls from the door handle and quickly finds itself on her lover’s shoulder.

T’Challa looks at her with an easy smile. The sparkle of his teeth reflecting in her irises. His arms embrace her waist, his fingertips dancing shyly against the silk of her dress. “y/n.” He says evenly.

Keep reading

As he wished.

T’Challa Udaku.

requested: yes - Oh! I don’t know if you do songfic requests but if you do, would you mind doing an Erik or T'Challa fic based off the song ‘Good Man’ by Ne-Yo? I keep smiling at the thought of Erik or T'Challa in a meeting and putting it on hold when they see their lover is calling. - @wakanda-inspired (I couldn’t tag you)

synopsis: t’challa really misses you at his meeting, even though he has just come back from your honeymoon and you were just sleeping together

author’s note: i didn’t know what to do with this one @wakanda-inspired. i’m so sorry but i really wanted to give you something.

warning: Brief Depiction of Nudity, Implied Themes Of A Sexual Nature, Poor Editing

Papers lay strewn over the black vibranium table in the official boardroom of the royal palace of the Golden City. A new session of government was to begin in two weeks and T’Challa was ready for it to end already. His honeymoon had just finished one week ago and he was more than willing and ready to go back to the arms of his wife and his bed. 

He was craving the scent of his wife and the blissful comfort of having no demands made of him, other than his wife’s moans for more pleasure.

“My king? King T’Challa?” The river tribe leader leans over the table, attempting to catch his attention.

T’Challa blinks out of his reverie quickly and clears his throat, “Yes, sir?” He puts his index finger against his temple, barely hiding his disinterest.

“We must discuss further the funding for the dam for the river because if we are to receive further tourists we must have the water controlled further.” The tribe leader speaks emotively and T’Challa feels the inklings of a migraine in his temples.

“Of course and we will—“ T’Challa begins, with his eyes focused on the river tribe leader.

“But we must also think about the money for the border tribe’s extension of the…” the border tribe leader trails off his sentence, his lips quickly becoming stationary as T’Challa sends him a stern look.

“As I was saying,” T’Challa resumes as the border tribe leader clears his throat, “Of course the finances for the dam will be cleared. You’ll be pleased to know that I have already sent a proposal draft to my assistant who will then forward it to the minister of the treasury. And then, you shall hopefully accept the proposal.” T’Challa nods to the river tribe leader and he nods his head slowly in compliance.

“That would be most appreciated.” The tribe leader begins a speech about how good the great king T’Challa is, but T’Challa zones out as he feels a vibration in his left pocket. He frowns as he feels his pant pocket and pulls out an iPhone.

An iPhone his wife gave him, he watches his own reflection on the screen but his wife’s name is on the screen. He smiles at the realisation that she is calling him.

“Excuse me,” he pipes up suddenly, “leaders I must ask that we have a small break from this oh so important meeting. I have an important call to take.” T’Challa doesn’t even wait for those at the table to comprehend what he has said and he stands up from the head of the table and moves briskly into the adjacent room which serves as his part-time office. 

The call ends just as he closes the door of his office. He sighs in frustration and holds the phone in his hands and looks at in confusion. He knew that accepting this phone was a mistake, outsiders’ technology can be so primal and confusing for him. He squints in absolute confusion as he attempts to make the gadget work, and his wife makes it look so easy. 

And then it rings again, just the same as before and T’Challa smiles in delight just from seeing her name on the screen. Now he’s posed with an even more confusing challenge - to answer the call. He recalls his wife answering calls from friends and imitates the motion from his memory.

A small noise indicates the answering of the call and the camera pans to his wife. 

His glorious wife, laying on her back with her glorious naked body displayed purposefully on the camera. T’Challa groans as he sees that her nipples are erect and highlighted beautifully by the sunlight in their bedroom.

“Good morning darling.” She says dreamily. She smirks when she notices that he’s wearing his formal attire, and she knows she’s interrupted something important but most importantly he’s stopped to take her call. “You left without saying good morning or telling me where you were going.” She yawns and lifts her hand to cover her mouth. 

And T’Challa bites his lip, not understanding why that when she is doing the most mundane things she can still be and look like the most desirable woman in the world. Some would say it’s just a side effect of the honeymoon stage, but he would beg to differ.

“I apologise, my love.” He coos sweetly, taking a seat on his chair behind his vibranium desk. “I couldn’t wake you from such a deep sleep, you seemed quite tired.” He places the phone down on his phone stand. He leans forward on his elbows and sighs in contentment.

She chuckles, “And who’s fault is that?” She smirks and rolls over on the bed. T’Challa shrugs with a giggle and she huffs. “Well, I assume you were in a meeting?”

He nods, with a solemn expression, remembering the dull meeting he was in. “Yes, my darling I was.” He interlocks his fingers in front of his face and sighs.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to that then.” She rolls over again and goes back to laying on her back, and T’Challa dreams of physically being on top of her, and not just watching her on a screen. 

Her divine body was so close, yet so far. “No, my love, you must have something else to tell me.” He pleads, attempting to waste time so that the meeting time will end and he’ll be able to go back to her - physically.

She shakes her head and smiles, “No, I have nothing else to say.” She chuckles, understanding what he’s doing. 

“Well, what was the first thing you thought about this morning, my love.” He pipes up suddenly causing her to open her sleepy eyes.

“You.” She chortles. “Now, goodbye King T’Challa.” She waves goodbye at him, and his heart flutters at the sweet expression on her face.

“I’ll see you in a moment Queen y/n.” He sighs and she switches off the call. 

He stands promptly and heads back into the meeting room, only to be stopped by his assistant.

“Your majesty, I regret to inform that the meeting has to have been adjourned,” The man speaks quietly as T’Challa’s eyes pan over the meeting room noticing that only the mining tribe leader is left around the table, but she is only gathering her documents with her own assistant. “It seems that the river tribe leader and the border tribe are not able to keep their squabbles outside of the royal palace walls; so when you were in your office they had a small spat and we couldn’t keep everyone in the room.” His assistant purses his lips as he watches T’Challa pick up his scarf from the back of his chair. 

“Well isn’t that good news then.” T’Challa smiles victoriously. He places his scarf around his shoulders and pats his assistant on the shoulder. “Isn’t B’ast good?” He asks rhetorically as he leaves the room with a victorious chuckle.

And he finds himself on his way to a very sleepy wife to lay in her arms and lay in his bed as he wished.

Somewhere Secret (T’Challa x Reader)

Word Count: 2,677

Warnings: Smut, remote controlled vibrator, public sex, NSFW

Keep reading

As we all predicted, I just saw black panther and I freaking LOVED IT. *makes grabby hands for requests and beta readers*

What do I mean by beta readers, you ask? Good question.

As a half asian, half ... well, basically everything in Europe, woman - I want to make 100% sure my portrayal of POCS and their culture(s) is accurate. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know squat. And reading a guide just isn’t the right approach in my opinion. So I’m looking for some lovely POC readers (African American/Black) to proof read my works before I post them, to make sure I don’t make mistakes. Send me an instant message if you’re interested, and keep an eye out for some content to come your way!

Its also of note that i WILL NOT WRITE any of the black panther characters with a white reader. I’m sorry, but I won’t do it.

anyway - send requests my way pretty please!

Dating T’Challa Would Include...

Thank you to my lovely beta readers for going over this with me! This is also my first Black Panther content, hooray! I hope you all enjoy! gif credit (x)

You know that the young prince completely froze the second he saw you for the first time. Mid-sentence, he had trailed off in a conversation with his father when you had approached him for an introduction. 

It took an elbow to the ribs from Shuri to snap him out of it.

Speaking of Shuri - the two of you are best friends. Other than T’Challa of course. At least a quarter of the practical jokes she plays on her brother were your idea in the first place.

T’Challa is an expert when it comes to your hair. However long it takes you to tame, wash, detangle and style your locks - your lover can get it done in half the time with zero fuss or painful yanks. Something about the way his fingers would work through the strands and his soft kisses to your neck was so relaxing.

So. Many. Forehead. Kisses! Being the King and future Queen of Wakanda meant you two had to be diplomatic whenever you were in public. Instead of full on make out sessions whenever you made his heart flutter, he’ll cup your face and place a tender kiss on your forehead instead.

On that note - you two are known for ‘disappearing’ every once in a while. It’s not unusual for someone to find you in an abandoned closet or an empty hallway being very... undiplomatic.

Whenever T’Challa has to leave you - he always brings you something back. Even if it was simply to visit the border tribe, your lover would return with at a fresh flower or a treat from the market that he knew you loved.

The longer he’s gone, the bigger the souvenir you receive upon his homecoming. You can still remember the first time he had gone on a cross country mission for three weeks, he had stumbled out of the aircraft with a giant stuffed teddy bear as big as he was for you. Even the Queen Mother was in stitches from laughing so hard.

You’ve developed a habit of playing with his hands when he’s upset. Experience has told you that T’Challa needs some quiet time to think when he’s angry, you’re the only one he’ll allow within arms reach until he’s calmed down. You had taken his hand in yours for comfort at first, but soon enough you were gently stroking his fingers and massaging his palms. You know he’s back to normal when he brings your joined hands to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. 

You guys are such cuddlers. You can’t help it. There’s a spot on his chest that was built for you to rest on, telling each other about your day or exchanging slow kisses in lieu of words. Even if everything goes wrong with your day, you can count on T’Challa’s arms being open for you at the end of the day.

Want NSFW headcanons? Or maybe headcanons for someone else? Let me know! I’ll see you guys next time! 

Long Live the Queen

Requested by Anonymous: Can I request a fic where the reader (who is a bit younger than T’Challa) is now the Queen and is a little nervous to leave Wakanda for the first time? Sorry that’s not really much of a plot. Pairing: T’Challa x Black!Female Reader Warnings: Teeth rotting fluff, the sweetest newlyweds acting like children. Vague NSFW references, but no actual smut.  Word Count: 1.3K Translations:  Sithandwa sam - my darling. Umhle - beautiful.  A/N: I am hardly fluent in Xhosa, so I used google translate to help me out. I apologize if anything is incorrect!  gif credit. 

“- Sithandwa sam? Are you ready to go?”

Blissfully unaware of your husband’s presence, you continued to sort through the ever expanding collection of jewelry you had acquired over your lifetime. You and T’Challa would be leaving for a week in France today, spending half the morning fretting of your wardrobe and what to bring. For fear of accidental injury or some kind of public incident, you had already ruled out the pieces given to you by an exuberant Shuri. You were still getting used to the beautiful wedding band she had designed for you and T’Challa, littered with your favorite stones while also connected to your Kimoyo Beads ‘just in case’.  At least the family engagement ring had remained untouched, passed from the Queen Mother Ramonda to you with great pride. The ring had meant so much to your mother in law, especially after the death of her husband. Yet according to the wedding toasts you heard over a week ago, she had forbidden to allow her son to propose marriage with any other ring.

“You should take these,” T’Challa murmured in your ear. If it wasn’t for the warm hand on the small of your back, you would have leapt right out of your new dress. He was holding one of your favourite earrings aloft, a present he’d given you after a year of being together. “You see? They’re perfect to complement those beautiful eyes of yours,” You tried and failed to hide the smile he brought upon you, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes before nodding decisively. “Wonderful choice, handsome. And a completely unbiased one, I trust?”

“Of course!” He laughed, trading the earring in his hand in exchange for a gentle kiss from his new bride. Unable to stop smiling since the day you were married, you ended up stifling your laughter against T’Challa’s mouth. As if he had been offended, he broke away from the kiss to fix you with a small pout that ended up making you laugh even harder. “What is it? What’s so funny?” He prodded, chasing you around in circles while you tried to escape the vicious circle of giggles.

Neither of you had realized how loud your squeals and his laughter had been until someone cleared their throat from the doorway of your shared bedroom. Your beloved General Okoye had been waiting outside in the hall, skittering to a stop once you saw the unimpressed expression on her face.

“For Bast’s sake!” she groaned, rolling her eyes as her head hit the solid wood of your door with a dull thunk. “Here I thought that the King and Queen were packing for their trip, instead I come to find you chasing your tails!”

“I am sorry if we startled you, Okoye. I was just -” before T’Challa could speak further, the General had straightened to her impeccable posture once again. “Playing children’s games? I haven’t seen you do that since you were four years old.”

“I would have been only one at that time!” You protested with a huff. “Aye – I didn’t mean you!” Okoye made a vague gesture towards your husband at that. “Either way, we were meant to leave in less than an hour. Will you be ready to leave by then, Your Highnesses?” Like children who had been caught playing after bed time, you and T’Challa moved as one to finish packing and zipping up your suitcases. With a firm nod, Okoye turned on her heel and headed for the door.

You were beyond grateful that the head of your husband’s personal security was such a dear friend to both of you. Okoye had been more like a big sister to you than an intimidating warrior, treating you no differently when you were with friends or family now that you were her Queen. A grand total of thirty seconds passed after she left before the Black Panther finally spoke up. “You know – she really does spoil all of our fun.”

“I heard that!”

 As King and newly crowned Queen of Wakanda, you had spent the first week of your honeymoon in the best country in the world. Your country – it was your home. One you had never set foot outside of in your entire life. You were the one who had told your then-fiancé that you had always wanted to travel the world one day – Paris was the perfect destination for a honeymoon, no?

You were starting to think that perhaps it was a perfect destination for someone else, someone who was not so anxious that she was currently pacing a hole in the floor of the aircraft. T’Challa had watched you for the past ten minutes, waiting for the right opportunity to step in if need be. When you finally glanced up at your husband from what must have been your two hundredth lap, he opened his arms without missing a beat. “Come, umhle. Tell me what is troubling you.”

Thankfully the Dora Milaje gave you privacy on such a long flight, immediately climbing into his lap without the necessary decorum. Instinctively T’Challa rests his chin atop your head, holding you  close and waiting patiently for you to speak when you were ready.

“I… I’m scared T’Challa,” you admitted with a gulp. “I’ve never left Wakanda before. What if everyone stares at us? What if I make a fool of myself and bring shame to our country? How does one even act like a Queen in France? What if -” Any further protests from you were silenced when his hand tilted your chin upwards, free hand still supporting your back while he kissed you deeply. Sensually. His tongue smoothed over your bottom lip, making you moan and re-adjust in his lap.  

“Y/N, I love you with all of my heart. But this trip is for celebrating our marriage, not representing our country. There are no press conferences to appear at, no council meetings to attend. Everything will be all right – I promise. Have I ever let you down before?” As you shook your head no, the realization dawned on you that the majority of the tension you were feeling had disappeared. “Well… other than kissing me like that and not finishing what you started?” A deliberate movement of your hips had T’Challa moaning low in his throat. “My apologies, Mrs. Udaku. Allow me to make it up to you?”

If married life meant working through problems together with a ‘special’ treatment afterword? You could get used to this.

When the aircraft touched down an hour later, you and T’Challa had to scramble to get yourselves together. Your escorts both had a knowing look on their faces when the door opened, eager to get out of the plane and stretch your legs. Even from your distance, the bright lights of the Eiffel Tour were a sight to behold. Ayo and Okoye stepped off the aircraft first, the two of you following close behind. You had almost reached the end of the ramp when your body froze, hesitating to step down onto the dewy grass.

T’Challa felt the slight tug of you holding back, turning to face you with an encouraging smile on his face. “Remember what I said, umhle. Everything will be all right.” Instead of letting you step off of the ramp by yourself, he picked you up bridal style and swept you in a circle.

Satisfied that you were no longer nervous, the King of Wakanda set you down gently onto foreign soil for the first time. It didn’t feel any different than African soil, wiggling your toes just to make sure. You turned to face your husband with an elated grin, eyes shining brighter than the lights of the city.  

“Bude bukumkanikazi, my love.  Long live the queen.”

Thank you very much to my beta @panthergoddessbast for reading this over for me. Would you like to be tagged in my T’Challa content? Or content for a specific Black Panther character? Send me an ask! (An ask please, that way I can post it on my blog for reference.)  

TAG REQUESTS: @jubileeave-me-alone

Coming Up Next....

two days of writing sin! I’m ironing out the details of of T’Challa’s NSFW headcanons, and working on an Erik smut oneshot. And quite possibly a series that will remain a surprise until it’s posted! Are you excited? I am!

Do you have any other requests you’d like to see? Send them in!

Good morning! An Erik Killmonger oneshot will be coming your way tonight. In the mean time, have any headcanons you want to see? Send them in! 

Lord M’Baku of the Jabari Tribe has produced not one, not two, but five young heirs to his title. Five small boys growing steadily into five young men. Rumor has it that a man so strong is genetically incapable of conceiving a daughter. Ergo: when the Queen of the Mountain Tribe finds herself pregnant for a sixth time, another male heir is on the way, right?

Wrong.

Inspired by (and written with permission from @pocmarvelworks) comes my first ever series! Get ready for an eventful and tooth rotting series from yours truly, introducing you to your life as Mrs. M’Baku and your family. 

❄ TRIBE OF OUR OWN - weekly chapters starting Friday, March 16th.  want to be tagged? please send me an ask including ‘tribe of our own’.

Chapter One.

Summary: A typical morning in the home of the King and Queen of the Jabari. M’Baku seems to be sticking with the tradition of having a child every two years - but are you willing to have a sixth child?   Pairing: M’Baku x Female Reader

Warnings: Slight NSFW reference (The full on smut will start in Chapter 3!), four little mini-M’Baku’s and one Momma’s Boy toddler.  Word Count:  1.5k

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to the first chapter of my new series! This first part will be mainly an introduction to the hoard of new characters and the pace of your family. I will have a reference post up soon so you can keep track of which child is which, etc. I hope you enjoy!

One has no need for an alarm clock when you’re a mother of five.

Living in the heart of Gorilla City meant your home was seated comfortably at the peak of the mountains, giving you a beautiful and unobstructed view of the sunrise each morning. You had become accustomed to waking in the middle of the night to feed a screaming child, opening your eyes each morning when the first ray of light landed on your face. And as always – the first thing you saw was your handsome husband in the utmost state of relaxation.

While you had to design and create a giant mattress for your giant lover - somehow you always ended up curled up in the crook of his elbow. Even subconsciously while he slept, your husband kept you protectively close. And while you adored his vigilant nature towards you and your family… it did make it much harder to get out of bed in the mornings.

“M’Baku… my love. Time to start our day.” you whispered, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. Instead of loosening his grip like you hoped he would, M’Baku only pulled you closer to his chest.

“Can our day not wait?” His deep baritone sent a shiver down your spine. “Better yet – can we simply stay in bed all day?” You knew there was no way you could ignore either of your duties to the Jabari, and it was much easier to sleep in before you had children.

“You and I both know that ‘staying in bed’ only results in procreation,” you chided him. The logical point you made fell on deaf ears, his free hand landing on the stretch mark on your hip. “Ah - but don’t you like the sound of that Y/N? Six is a nice, even number.”

“And what about the other five we have now? Best tend to them first before you want another.” 

M’Baku had always been eager to have a large family; it came as no surprise to you that he wanted a sixth child. It seemed every year and a half one or both of you would catch baby fever, and before you knew it your womb became home to another energetic little boy. Your sons grew more and more each day – and you did your best to provide them each with the attention and care every child needs.

“What can I do to convince you, my Queen?” M’Baku’s hand travelled south further down the length of your body, instinctively arching into his touch. His mouth was mere centimetres away from yours when he froze, giving you an apologetic smile as he scrambled to right himself.  

Your husband’s hearing was as accurate as ever. Not two seconds later did the doors of your bedroom opened with a start, a flying ball of energy landing knee-first on your husband’s chest.

“Oof! What is this, mi ọmọkunrin (my son)? A surprise attack?” Bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever, your son Mobo grinned his spacy grin at the two of you. “No, Baba! Wake up time!”

Mobo bounces in place once or twice, snatched up by two large hands and deposited in the middle of the mattress. You watch with a fond smile as the impending sense of doom registers in his dark eyes, his father’s hands digging into his sides without mercy.

“Aah! Iya (mother) ! Iya, help!” The four year old pleads, only to have you stroke your chin in mock contemplation.

“I don’t know… I hate picking sides between my boys.” Mobo’s peals of laughter are met with deep chuckles from M’Baku, blowing raspberries on your son’s belly for good measure. “Baba, stop! No more tickle monster please!”

“Oh – I suppose I could stop. The tickle monster thought he heard your stomach rumbling.” M’Baku chuckles, tugging Mobo’s sleeping shirt back into place. The poor boy was too winded to confirm or deny his father’s implication, flopping back onto your bed to catch his breath.  

“I’m sorry, Iya.” A familiar voice spoke from your doorway. “I tried to tell him not to barge in.” Your eldest son stood in the doorway, stepping inside only once you beckoned him closer.

At ten years old Aremo was on the verge of puberty, slightly more reluctant to receive affection like the rest of your children. It was only a matter of time before your darling baby boy became a cauldron of rage and hormones – and would undoubtedly grow taller than you within the next year. But that didn’t stop you from sliding out from between the sheets, meeting your son halfway for a hug.    

“It’s no trouble ololufe (sweetheart). We are having a slow start to the morning.” Your husband sat up with Mobo just in time to catch the pointed glare you shot at him. “Can you do your mother a favor and make sure these two monkeys get out of bed? You and your brothers need to be at your lessons in an hour.”  Aremo straightens and nods, moving to your side of the bed to scoop up his brother.

“All right, my love.” M’Baku finally concedes. “We will meet you in the kitchen.”

With your husband keeping an eye on two of your sons, you wrap yourself in your robe and pad across the hall to the small nursery. Upon opening the door you’re immediately greeted by the sight of your youngest son hoisting himself into a standing position in his crib with his chubby little arms.

“Iya!” He chirrups, immediately making grabby hands in your direction.

Your four other sons will flock to you whenever they scrape their knee or need a comforting hug - but otherwise worship the ground their father walks on. Little Tayo has remained the only true Momma’s Boy, excited to see you every morning and always wanting to be around you.

“Good morning my beautiful boy!” You scoop him into your arms with a flourish. “Are you ready to go see Baba and your brothers?” Tayo was still too little to fully understand everything people said to him, but the words ‘Baba’ and ‘brothers’ were familiar enough.

“Baba!” He repeats, leaning eagerly in the direction of the open door. “Oh no - not so fast! First we have some duties to attend to here.” You carefully move your little boy onto the changing table, a little pout identical to your own staring back up at you.

“Boo.” Tayo huffs glumly. “I feel the same way, my boy.”

                                         Ten minutes later you stood at the island of your kitchen, Tayo peacefully picking at his tray of blueberries. He didn’t need the extra protein you had prepared for the rest of your family, scattering an array of fruit atop yogurt and granola clusters in their bowls. Now that Mobo had reached the age where he could attend morning lessons, you were finally at the point where you could achieve some peace and quiet in your household.

- Some.

“Hurry along, boys!” Tayo perked up at the sound of his father’s voice. “Iya has breakfast waiting for you!” M’Baku’s voice is followed quickly by the man himself, ushering his dressed sons along. An overlap of morning greetings accompanied your children, each taking their favorite place at the table.

“Is that everyone?” You ask your husband, who bent down to give Tayo’s little cheeks a kiss. “Yes my love, that is everyone.”

Aremo was already downing the contents of his glass of milk. Naade still appeared to be half asleep. Mobo was happily accepting one of the blueberries that Tayo offered, while M’Baku began to pass out the bowls of yogurt.

That added up to five boys total, leaving two chairs empty. It seemed you were the only one who noticed there was still someone missing for breakfast.

“Baba?” You giggled. “I do believe you’ve forgotten someone.” The gears in his head began to churn while he set the bowls down, counting his sons down on one hand. Aremo came first, then Naade, and then the major oversight on his part.

“Oh no,” he groaned, hurrying as fast as he dared back down the hallway. “Seye? It’s time to get up!” While your husband tried to wrangle your middle child away from one of his books, you set the remainder of the table and joined your family.

“Eat up everyone.” You encouraged, scooping up an adult sized clump of granola and chewing loudly. Maybe if you crunched hard enough you would be able to solve the problem plaguing your mind.

Would your family be able to handle a sixth child?

SERIES TAGS: @themeanestlittlewitch @mack-jay @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @beacosta27 @msross13 @ovoxosavage @spaceygemini @melaninmarvel @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @steampunkprincess147

BLACK PANTHER TAGS: @macfizzle @lewatigress @asongofmarvelanddc @mehrmonga @groovybbyyy @panthergoddessbast

Chapter Two.

Summary: You and M’Baku will take whatever ‘alone time’ you can get as parents, even if it includes a rather unpleasant parenting task.

Pairing: M’Baku x Female* Reader 

Word Count: 800 

A/N: First off, I want to apologize for this being very late and very short. Things have been absolutely nuts for me the last week, and will continue to be for another week after now. This chapter is more of a filler to get from point A to point B. The next chapter will be NSFW, juicier and much longer. Thank you for your patience!

* As with all of my Black Panther content, the reader is black. 

Enjoy!

“Ololufemi (my darling) - I fear I may have underestimated our enemy,” M’Baku reports, squaring his shoulders in the face of adversity.

“Nonsense,” you cluck. “You are the King of the mountains. There is nothing you cannot handle.” You do your best to wrap your arms around his waist, coming up short by several inches.

“This is like any other battle we have faced. And, as always, the secret to any battle is -”

“- Obobo!” A small foot kicks aimlessly into the air. “Iya, obobo!”

M’Baku’s hand dwarfs Tayo’s small chest, resting lightly on his son’s chest to keep him in place on the changing table. It wasn’t long after you had dropped your children off at their lessons that Tayo began to fuss, wafting a particular odor that told you to hurry back home.

The downside of being a vegetarian meant a high fiber diet. And a high fiber diet meant lots of diaper changes from all of your children, none particularly pleasant once they’ve begun to eat solids. As long as your husband was home – he made a point to change your children’s diapers himself. Judging from the way his nose was scrunched up, M’Baku was definitely regretting that choice in the face of this particularly stinky diaper.

“Easy, mi omokunrin (my son). Baba can help too.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the slight twinge of jealousy in his voice, unused to not being the favorite. M’Baku moved his free hand to reach for a clean diaper, first taking the opportunity to pinch one of your ass cheeks in retaliation for your laughter.

“Hey!” you yelped, taking the hint and peeling yourself away from your boys. Waste basket in hand, you returned just in time to provide the method of disposal.

“Four more months, my love. Then he will be ready for potty training.” Your comfort may have had more effect if not for your nasally tone, giving away the fact that you were holding your breath in order to speak. The look M’Baku gave you was unimpressed to say the least.

“Baba, obobo?” Tayo asked hopefully. “Pease?”

Now that you had weaned Tayo off of his first nap of the day, the mid-morning snack of ‘obobo’ was not to be overlooked. You disposed of the baby garbage and met your husband mid-way, exchanging a freshly changed toddler for the empty waste basket.

“Thank you Baba.” You praised, having to meet him halfway a second time to give him a kiss on the cheek. It was hard to tell who looked more pleased with themselves – M’Baku or Tayo.

“Would you like something to eat before you leave?” You offered, strapping your youngest into his high chair and moving to wash your hands. You felt more than heard M’Baku settle behind you, reaching around your frame to steal some of the soap and water for his own hands.

“No thank you, beautiful.” He pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. “I will only be gone for an hour or so. Then I will be home to help you with our boys – and tomorrow you’ll have me all to yourself.”

His tone prompted a familiar flutter inside your chest – among another part of your anatomy. After the battle against Killmonger two weeks ago, the subsequent changes had kept both of you extremely busy on the political front. Two weeks ago your children had gotten their first taste at the world outside Jabari Land, and they’d been itching for more ever since.

Of course – your sons loved their home. But you would be remised to deny them a chance to further explore beyond the confines that used to exist between the Jabari and the rest of Wakanda. Especially if that meant Zoputan, your most trusted advisor and best friend, taking your sons off your hands for a day to tour further with T’Challa and Nakia.

“An entire day with the love of my life? Whatever will we do?” You teased, smiling fondly when M’Baku used the towel to dry your hands for you. “That is your decision. But I’m confident I will thoroughly enjoy whatever choice you make.”

Before your banter could continue any further a small whimper reminded you of your poor boy still waiting for his snack. Eyes widening, you moved towards the refrigerator to retrieve the pineapple – obobo – Tayo had patiently waited for. M’Baku distracted your son by peppering kisses to his chubby little cheeks in an effort to stop any potential tears.

“I’ll see you for lunch?” he offered, leaning down to give you a kiss now that your baby was occupied. “I can’t wait.”

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Guys... we need to talk. First of all, if you’ve read any of my bp writing you all know that I’ve never supported or written the reader as white. I’ve never claimed to be black, because I’m not. The entire reason I’ve had beta readers for previous work was to get the perspectives of several black readers to incorporate their perspectives and opinions into my writing. I understand why this is important, and I also understand why some people may be upset and not want a different kind of POC to write. What I don’t understand is all of the name calling on this persons end. If it weren’t for the threats they made I wouldn’t bother to post them at all, but I do have the right to defend myself and provide proof that I never engaged in abusive language. Please do not send them any hate. It won’t accomplish anything. What I do need to know is this - do any other black readers have a problem with me writing? If you do, please respectfully let me know (ex. ‘I have a problem’ or ‘me’ in the comments) If this is an issue that is synonymous with the fandom, I will happily step down and instead compile a list of black writers in the fandom to direct you towards. This blog is meant to make people happy, myself included.

Headcanons for being T’Challa and Nakia’s child

T’Challa/Nakia x child!reader

warnings:

a/n: thank you anon 💕

prompt: anonymous: “i love your work so much!! can i request a headcanon for being nakia and t'challa's (mcu) child? sending my love to you💕💕”

your parents were very busy people

but they always made time for you

your mother, nakia, taught you tons about strength and kindness

your father, t’challa, taught you how to be humble and honest

they were good at their job

your grandparents adored you, they would spend every second with you if they could

“my son, where is my grandchild? send them my way when you have a moment”

“yes, father, i will”

your childhood was bright, full of love

your parents only feared your curiosity of the world, anything outside of wakana

shuri was your designated babysitter, she had a knack for teaching you vulgar language and hand signs

“ah, shit” -shuri after dropping a part on the ground

“shit”

“no! no, no, don’t say that. auntie shuri didn’t mean to say that. oh, your father is going to kill me”

but she also shared her smarts with you, a powerful weapon, in her book

it made t’challa proud

nakia carried you until you were too big to be carried

she was worried you’d get into some type of trouble just like your father

but she also taught you how to defend yourself

you had many paths ahead of you, one of royalty, one of a warrior, and one of knowledge

your mother was a caring person, she wanted to help others above all, you got your caring nature from her

your father saw much of your mother in you, which he found comfort in while she was away

you were a natural-born leader, as well, fitting for your future

“y/n, one day, you may lead our people to greatness, just as your grandfather”

“auntie shuri told me that i’m gonna be a ‘kickass (king/queen/ruler)’”

“oh, she did, did she?”

“she also showed me this” *sticks middle finger up*

t’challa had to have a word with his sister

family dinners were very exciting, you always sat next to your grandmother

she always gave you a bit of her dessert

“don’t tell your father, this is our little secret”

don’t get me started on okoye, that woman adores you

she would do anything for you

“okoye, can you cover for me if i sneak out for the day? i’d like to see more of the kingdom”

“you know i don’t like lying to your father”

“pleaaaase?”

“...fine. go along now”

you were very persuasive sometimes

your first trip out of the country was a bleak affair, it was supposed to teach you of diplomacy

but at this UN meeting, your grandfather was murdered, sparking a fire in you that your parents couldn’t ignore, you were just like them

okoye was supposed to make sure you stayed out of trouble while your father got his revenge, but something about this situation didn’t feel right

“okoye, i want to fight with him”

“you’re too young, y/n, i will not disobey direct orders”

“i need to do this!”

once your father learned the truth about the circumstances of grandfather t’chaka’s death, you returned home with a few passengers

soon, bucky barnes lived within your borders

“before i am king, i must get your mother”

“i thought she didn’t want anyone in the way of her mission?”

“extenuating circumstance”

“wonderful, don’t freeze up”

“did okoye tell you to say that?”

and your father was crowned king, taking on the mantle of the black panther

and you got to see your mother after some time apart

“my baby! how are you?”

“im well, mother, and you?”

she wrapped you up in a loving hug

“i’ve missed you”

you desperately wanted to be out in the field, you’ve gone as far as working in shuri’s lab on your own weapons and...other tech

“what’s that, y/n?”

“it’s a surprise tool that will help us later”

“you’re lucky im not a snitch”

she encouraged your work as a warrior

“do not waste your talent, my (neice, nephew, nibling)”

and you soon needed to use your inventions to defeat your second cousin, erik

you finally felt your father’s pain when erik murdered him in front of you

nakia rushed you and your paternal family away before any harm could be done to you

“mother, i cannot sit on the sidelines any longer!”

“and i cannot lose my lover and my child in the same day”

but your luck hadn’t run out yet, your father was still alive, barely clinging to life

“wake up, father”

and then he did, with a plan

your suit making it’s debut alongside your mother and aunt

“i don’t know whether to be upset or proud, my child”

“please let it be proud”

proving that you could kick some serious ass out there, which solved your previous ailment

“proud, it is!”

actually ending up worrying over your mother

“y/n, don’t worry about me, worry about yourself”

once the fighting had ceased, your father found you in your battle gear

“what do we have here?”

“...”

“it suits you, y/n”

“you’re not mad?”

“i cant be mad at you for following in my footsteps”

your mother stayed in wakanda for a while, everything seemed to play out well for a while

but time went on and new challenges surfaced

the avengers’ visit resulted in a massacre

you fought with your people and still failed to protect them like you were told to do

“father, there’s too many of them!”

“don’t worry, little one! i know you can do this!”

okoye was protecting you through part of the battle, much to your dismay

when thanos snapped, your father and aunt disappeared, leaving you to the throne

“grandmother, please guide me”

“i will, my dear, but you must follow your own path, as well”

five years went by and you worked to help rehabilitate your country after the loss of so many people, it wasn’t the same

until everyone suddenly reappeared

“father?”

“what happened here?”

“uh...you died?”

“what?”

“you died five years ago, i’ve been ruling ever since...”

“i assume this means we have a fight coming our way”

“i wouldn’t be surprised”

there was a great fight against a thanos from a decade or so ago

it was a rough fight, i’ll give you that, but this teamup was legendary

you were surrounded by an incredible array of heroes that wouldn’t let you down

and your father only worried about you a little bit, he trusted you

you on the other hand? you were terrified of losing him again

but your father was not the one to lose his life, instead it was the father of a young girl

tony stark gave his life so that the rest of you may live

the least you could do was pay your respects

you attended the funeral with t’challa

he let it be known that he was incredibly proud of how you handled yourself in the years he was absent

“oh yeah, well, when we get home, i think our people need their rightful king back”

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