#young N'Jadaka

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

A/N: Erik killed your husband, T'Challa, and took the throne. Y'all got beef and sexual tension. This is part 3 and the end. Smut included.

Part 1 Part 2

In the 20 minutes on the airship, you and Killmonger don't talk. He adjusts his neck. He plays with his nails. You cross your ankles in the opposite direction.

Since what he said, it's been a week of silence on your end. You admit. It got to you, the guilt. Was what he said wrong, yes, but there was truth within it, and that truth made you feel like the worst traitor of them all.

Still, all week, he's slid paperwork under your door, and you've quietly scratched out full paragraphs, sending it back with pen-inked edits. One pleasure of being an advisor? You get to piss him off and hear him sigh through the door. It's his own fault for attaching clauses as if you won't comb through all 15 pages of his loosely worded proposals. You have the time.

"I humored your request to replace the Dora as a trade-off for your active participation today. Make me look good," he reminds you as you step off the airship into Step Town, located in the Golden City. Last you were here was with T'Challa. This was his place to get away from the stress of the palace. Now you understand. Here, he could breathe and walk the streets. You take a breath of the fresh air though people are everywhere.

The two of you have come to do a walk-through and some small-scale mediation for morale. You take the reigns at D'Jouti's and Sampha's, speaking before Killmonger can manipulate or spread his unidentified agenda. It's a property dispute. You keep it at a property dispute. It takes a lot of skill, skill that you learned watching T'Challa manage strong personalities.

"Killmonger," you gesture, bringing him in finally. If the men want to meet the 'new king' so badly, that's their prerogative.

"Ndingu Yaba N'Jadaka." Sternly, he shakes their hands and looks them in the eye as if he truly cares for them. If you didn't know better, you'd believe it. Fortunately, you do know better. "Let me know how I can help you in the future."

They nod eagerly, easily enamored.

"Why wait, why not now," you challenge.

Killmonger's brow arches so quickly that they miss it. It's his own fault for being disingenuous. While they voice their thoughts, and every gripe that's been eating them since T'Chaka, you abandon him. Serves him right.

Step Town is the cultural and economic hub. The variety here is more than you'll get anywhere else nearby, perfect for shopping. You comb through colorful beaded jewelry, picking up a deep green stone necklace. You have fabric this color.

"About you behaving on this trip?"

You sigh, ignoring the evil immigrant as he comes up behind you. Instead of engaging, you pay for the necklace with a smile at the young saleswoman. She made it herself.

"Thank you," she smiles back.

"No, thank you. It's beautiful!"

He waits until you walk away from her stand to address you alone, gripping your wrist when you start to walk away from him. You shoot him a sharp look and feel his fingers slip away.

"If you won't behave out here, neither will I. You've been warned."

"You wanted them to get on their knees and worship you like a God for appearing to them. I simply skipped past the bullshit. If you're going to be King, be King, but the nonsense has to end."

A lustful wickedness flares in his eyes.

"Not interested. Move on."

"I've got your clearance to be King."

"That's not at all what I said."

"Same thing." His eyes shine as he looks out on the marketplace with new interest.

"It's not at all," you sigh. "I'm telling you. Don't disgrace my country or disturb the peace we've built."

"Maybe it needs to be disturbed." He grins at a passerby, putting on his caring act once more.

"Don't you get tired of beating a dead horse? I'm sick of you," you frown. Violence as a perpetual state? Exhausting. Who besides him would want that?

The next point in the visit for morale is Aishat's Contracting Services. Again, you dominate the interaction, purposefully cutting Killmonger off when you realize he's planting the seeds for future manipulation. He interrupts with nationalist rhetoric and fear-mongering not easily spotted in casual conversation.

"It's impressive," you interrupt his interruption. "You're able to resolve this amicably, but if I may? Hatred gives rise to violence and creates the conditions for war. Caution is a virtue of the wise."

"Yes, Queen. Wise take. Wish you'd take that mindset to heart, maybe we'd get along," he winks, cheeky in front of the contractors. You glare, a bullet already loaded in your mental chamber.

"We don't see eye to eye because, unlike you, I subscribe to civility, not senseless murder."

"See, that's contrary to what I know to be true." His head tilts as he engages his crowd. "I'm guessing your six attempts on my life don't equate. You know what it does equate to? Treason. But you know the penalty for that. I don't have to quote Wakandan law to you."

The thinly veiled threat of exile surprises the people. It's good. They need to see his nature.

"I'd hardly call it that. You did insult the past kings, including my late husband," you turn, completely throwing him under the bus.

"We fornicated in the bed you and he shared. His spot is still warm, in fact. Is that not also insulting the late King, or am I mistaken?"

Eyes are wide and judging.

"Do you really want to do this, my Queen?"

"How dare you spew such vile lies!"

You muster the calm to keep the overwhelming shame at bay well enough to conceal. Meanwhile, he continues the professional conversation. Too much denial makes you look guilty, so you don't continue, but you now see firsthand how people believe him.

Your head remains high as he follows you. Putting your feelings aside, you smile to others as you're offered free food. You insist on purchasing the roasted corn and pears as they are inexpensive and delicious.

"I agreed to replace the Dora under the impression that you'd keep your end of our bargain," Killmonger mutters when no one is in listening distance, and you're boarding the airship once more.

"Oh! Did I Iie to you? Imagine that." Your nose scrunches as you take your seat. He takes his.

"It's cool, I match energy."

Sighing, you close your eyes. You can't control what these people believe anymore than you can control anything else these days.

"Now, half the city, possibly the country, will know what we did."

"And that's all you have on me."

You're actually asleep, which is unexpected. Erik slides to the front to enjoy the colors of the sky. His father was right. Wakandan sunsets have quickly become his favorite thing.

At the palace, he prepares for another silent dinner. You sit at the opposite end of the table without provocation. The Queen being seen and not heard ain't a bad deal. It's been peaceful, something rare.

You leave the table, still shameful after eating and living life as usual, and with enough on his mind to contemplate, he retires to his own quarters. He's added his own touches at this point: black and gold, Wakandan tapestries, and a Tupac printed duvet. He's also gotten hold of the highest of Wakandan tech, some for entertainment and communication, some for more nefarious purposes.

He's in for the night, plotting because his plans for the world depend on his ability to stay three steps ahead at all times. Step one has been realized. As King, he's able to complete his father's work but with a twist. Now, he has to move strategically. After all, he will be starting a world war very soon.

Imagining the fall of Europe makes his stomach leap. It bubbles with sharp shooting pains. On second thought, he makes it to the bathroom just in time to shit his stomach out through his ass. It's still churning as if trying to self-abort him from this plane.

"AIDA!"

His body's feeling fatigued, face and neck shining from a sheen of cold sweat.

"My king," she responds from the opposite side of the door. Suddenly, he feels faint.

"Check on the Queen and report back. And get the doctor!"

"At once."

It's a good thing the palace has its own physician. Waiting in immense pain, nausea, and misery, he lifts his head when Aida knocks.

"The Queen is perfectly healthy."

That confirms it. You've finally done it.

Dr. Ebi confirms the poison, treating Erik in the infirmary with an emergency transfusion and educating him that he would NOT have died thanks to the herb, but thanks to advanced Wakandan medicine, his sickness is healed completely and in much less time.

Erik laughs from the infirmary bed, going from stress to feeling invincible. The only thing keeping him from teaching you a lesson now is exhaustion. After he sleeps... It's on.

He collapses in the medical room that's been darkened for comfort. Even this is a five-star bed and breakfast compared to combat conditions where he slept in uninhabitable places, always on high alert.

Almost immediately, he drifts off into a dreamland where his father comes to him. Suddenly, he's a little boy who's been caught rummaging through his father's belongings, but his father isn't mad. He simply holds him.

"I did it, Baba. I'm the King."

"So you are," N'Jobu smiles.

"And guess what? I can unite us again. All of our tribes around the world, we'll finally be one big tribe, just like you said."

"You've worked hard to make your dream happen. I am proud."

"Even if-" Erik wonders, now his true age. "Even if I've done bad things to get here?"

The war, the murder, the pillaging, the deceit... It all flashes in his mind like a movie.

"Does the end justify the means?"

He's only had the hope that it would, but what if he fails and it's all been in vain? That would mean he sacrificed all those lives for nothing.

N'jobu, knowing all that's occured having seen it through his eyes, raises his chin.

"Head up. You are a King, yes, but more than that you are my son, and no matter what you do, I will remain on your side always."

It's what Erik's needed to hear. If his father's the only one to believe in him, it's enough.

Erik bolts upright in the darkened room, still half-in a dream. He's heard noise when he should be alone. He lies back down, wiping his eyes and waiting, in kill mode for the next hour until the threat lurking in shadow is revealed and edging silently toward him. The feminine physique gives nothing away, considering he's surrounded every day by deadly women, each of them harboring a motive.

"UH!" You grunt, giving away your identity when he knees you in the gut.

"The fuck?"

Flipping on the beside lamp, he can see you completely, crumbled over the bed with a bigass machete in your hand.

"You got something against me sleeping? Give me damn the machete before you hurt yourself."

You take your swings instead, chasing him across his infirmary bed where he sweeps your legs and pins you by the chest in a simple and painless hold.

"You ain't on that level, Queen. Play with someone safe."

He moves his head from the path of your slow fists. You cry out as he captures your wrist, squeezing until the machete falls to the bed. He puts it to your throat.

"Neither are you," you smirk, meeting his eyes proudly. "I ALMOST TOOK YOU OFF THIS EARTH! I'll do it again, and again, and AGAIN..."

Despite the machete at your neck, there's no fear. You both know he won't do it.

"You'll never know peace," you continue. "I'll KEEP trying and one day? Very soon. It WILL work because you're weak."

That last word gets to him despite his best effort not to react. You're about to have a field day with this word now that you know it's a trigger.

"The confidence you must have to talk shit in a vulnerable position..."

He almost sounds bored, but you know better.

"You won't kill me. First of all, you're too weak. Second, you NEED me. Without me, you're a tyrant, and it's hard to gain the backing of a nation when you're an enemy of the people."

"It's not that hard actually," he mutters. "You wanna know why I REALLY keep you around? Who ELSE would put up with the woe is me shit? Every day, full of guilt and mad at the world. I didn't even LIKE that nigga, but you're right to be mad. That's why I'm the only one who gets you."

"Oh shuut uuup," you sigh, taking advantage of the monologue to pull a little knife you stole from the kitchen and plug it into his stomach.

"SHIT!" His face scrunches.

You push harder, tired of his manipulation. He's already showed his true colors. You won't believe in him again.

"You gone cut yourself," he winces, the machete still at your throat. "Trying to hurt me, you gone fuck around slit your own throat by mistake."

"I don't care, if it'll shut you up."

Even if it does cut, you won't die. You lean into the machete to his surprise and twist the small blade into his gut. He staggers back, but not before you get sliced pretty good in the process.

"I ain't ever warned one person this many times," his brows knit in frustration. You can see the pain in his eyes.

"It feels good to cause you pain," you stare, not wanting to miss a second.

His eyes narrow briefly as he holds his breath to pull the bloodied blade from his stomach. "Ugh, fuck," he winces. "You REALLY think you doing something, too. That's the painful part."

Dropping the knives on the floor, he kicks both away toward the door.

"I see. I'm a have to teach you a few things."

You want him so bad that you can't sleep or think straight. It's clear to him. Is it clear to you?

Erik climbs to his feet and shoves you back for a moment to breathe. Your eyes are still trained on him like you're not done. It's not only rage at him. It's toward yourself.

Blood's dripping down your neck, but you don't feel it due to the adrenaline in your body. Seems he's underestimated your ability to handle rough play.

"You need stitches."

You come at him again, and reflexively, he flings you back, which fuels your homicidal vengeance-seeking. You'll never break if he keeps dodging or pushing you back. That much is now clear.

Fuck it, he decides, looking into your rage-filled eyes. He'll give you a win just this once and if your psycho ass wants blood?

Let there be blood.

Your responding smile is contemptuous. Your eyes only flash to the knives for a millisecond, but it's done with the intention of tricking him. You want him to think you'll go for them like you went for that glass in your bedroom. That means he has to actually dive for it to give you a shot.

"How about a visual demonstration," you grin widely. "Of your death!"

As you speak, you fake and use his dive response to knee him across the face, right in his golden tooth.

"I've been hit harder during basic training," he admits, watching you seethe. "Try again."

Flinging yourself in a blind rage, you rain down every hit, every elbow blow, and every kick to his ribs, groin, throat, and everything else you can reach. He grunts, bearing it and eating every hit while remaining on his feet, even when he feels like buckling. You don't seem to realize he isn't blocking.

"Now tell me how weak I am."

"YOU'RE WEAK," you growl, swinging fists, feral with rage.

"I feel it," he growls, tensing his abs and gritting his teeth while you punch the same place you just stabbed. "That hate brewing deep for me every time you swing. When you look at me," he pauses, wondering if you've figured it out. "More."

You keep hitting that same spot. It hurts, but it ain't enough, and it won't be enough until you find some strength to hit harder.

"These princess ass punches. Reminds me of my cousin, slumped in the river like some Sleeping Beauty."

"BASTARD."

You shove him back, smashing his face as you drive your knuckles into his jaw. You were aiming for his nose, but he made a mistake and turned on reflex.

"That's it? You hit like the pillow princess you are. Maybe yo nigga dived on purpose, bored of that stiff ass pussy."

You put every ounce in your body into punching through dense muscle and bone, spurred on by his heavy grunts, and he finally bleeds from the inside of his mouth, giving you a feeling of catharsis. You need more.

"I'm all you got now," he groans, shaking his head. "You gone learn. You're Queen because I allow it! You're beholden to ME!"

He hasn't been blocking. GOOD. He needs his ass beat. You've been beating it nonstop.

"I'm Queen because I married a REAL King," you pant, your head back as you grab your hips to catch your breath. "I will REMAIN Queen when I send you to answer to Kings past!"

"Shit, I'm not worried. You can't even break a simple hold." He spits the blood. "Killing me? Impossible."

"You can ramble to your heart's content as they kick your ass across the ancestral plane."

He snorts.

"So kill me then! Whatever the fuck you think you bout to do. DO IT NOW."

The adrenaline coursing makes you feel that you can break through his body if you channel all your hate and pent-up rage, all your grief, all your stress.

"MORE," he barks, his eyes deranged and begging for your worst.

Blood drips from his mouth. He spits again like it's nothing, wiping his chin.

"THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL YOU GOT?"

You give it and then some, putting him on his knees and audibly cracking him across the jaw. He licks his lips, puckering in a quick kiss.

You're winded. Your hands are bruised and bleeding. The adrenaline is wearing off, and your whole body is stressed.

"I KNOW you ain't tired! You gone KILL me right? I'M RIGHT HERE!" Arms out on his knees, he challenges. "KILL ME."

Your eyes go to the machete he's dropped on the floor, and he reads your mind, smirking. You scramble for the machete as he gets up.

"C'MON!"

Slashing through his bare chest twice in a narrow X, you back him up a bit. He's circling you like an animal trying to find a weak entry point. You keep your eyes trained on his.

Swinging another three times, he dodges like you're both in a boxing ring. You swing again, slashing across his stomach. Instead of backing up, he's walks into it, purposefully cutting his hand in the process of prying the machete from yours for the second time in a night.

"I'll say it again, sweetheart," he squints. "I'm not going anywhere, no time soon. AND... I'm all you have at this point in time."

The machete spins in his cut hand as his tongue rests on his canine, tasting blood.

"Then I have nothing, but I'll gain much through your death."

You throw another jab, but he catches it and redirects you to the floor, having gone far enough to prove his point to you.

"My turn."

He knows your efforts are hopeless, but you gotta know it.

"What are YOU gonna do?" You glare up at him, cocky and stubborn. "I'll only keep coming," you rant. You continue until he bends and delivers a long and slow shallow cut across your thigh through your black pants.

"Hm." He licks at the blood on the machete, intrigued. "You look disgusted... I can be real disgusting. Shall I show you?"

"AIDA," you yell. That fear is what he wanted. More adrenaline coursing through your body.

"Something about having you trapped with a knife in my hand and you at my mercy," he smirks, "It does it for me... You look terrified."

"AI-," you stop mid-word as the blade starts to press into your skin, drawing more droplets to the surface..

"Aida ain't coming for you. Nobody coming for you... What? You thought it was your idea to replace the Dora? Nah, Queen."

He only told you that to make you comply. He'd always planned to replace and eventually get rid of them completely.

"You lost to me the second you decided to survive. Slowly, I'll CONTINUE to replace everyone who ever THOUGHT of being loyal to you. You gone learn. I'M all you got and if I gotta carve you up to teach you that, I will."

As he expected, you run to the door, trying the handle, pulling, banging, trying to escape.

"I told you. They don't answer to you."

Poor lil girl, trapped with the big bad man. What will you do?

You run, staying on the edge of the room, your frightened eyes on the machete slicing through air in his grasp.

"You've run as far as you can go. Now yield... Or don't," he shrugs. "It's fun for me either way."

Slashing the machete through the air, an evil giddiness erupts from him as you hole up in a corner like a rat caged.

"Call me weak."

You're silent.

"Say it."

Trailing his fingers over the sharp blade, he waits for the word that will be his green light.

"Say it," he dares once more. "I want nothing more in this moment than to fuck you raw in a puddle of blood with you covered in my cum and me by that sweet, sweet honey. Come to me," he stops, a mere six feet from you. "I won't kill you. I swear. Just rough you up a bit."

You stare from your fearful ball, bewildered and in shock.

"No? You want me to come get you?"

That thought terrifies you more.

He tosses the machete now that you see your position.

"I can do anything to you at this moment. Take anything I desire, and no one will help you. Just like no one helped me. Just like no one helped T'Challa. When will you see I'm all you got in this world? I'm not your enemy."

Confused, you don't move. He takes a step back and waits, extending his hand once you see he doesn't plan to move.

"Truce?"

You hesitate at you're at wit's end with his manipulations and your conflicting impulses. Emotionally and psychologically, you're adrift from any stable point of being.

You take his hand.

He guides you forward, but you aren't processing. You've stopped minutes ago.

"I can't," you cry, hitting him as he stands there, taking it. "You killed T'Challa. I can't feel anything but hate for the man who murdered my husband!"

"Look, LOOK." He captures your flailing arms holding them tightly at your sides. "Listen. I sincerely mean it when I say FUCK your husband. Fuck your guilt! He's gone! You're here!"

"You INSUFFERABLE, VULGAR-"

"Stop, I'm not done. I can make the confusion stop. I can make you stop thinking. I can make you turn it all off, all of it if you say one word," he whispers, seeking a deal in trade for your soul.

"You've been disrespectful from the start, not saying my name even once. I wanna hear you say it."

"Killmonger. That's what you are, no more than a U.S. tool."

"Nope. Try again."

"Orphan. Go to hell."

He takes a deep sigh.

"That's not my name, sweetheart."

His voice is sultry, his grip strong on your arms as if it's holding the shattered peices together.

"Mm," you hum, looking away. You can't let your mind go there. You felt the same way on the airship just looking at him. It's shameful.

"Look at me," he releases your arms to hold your chin up, forcing eye contact. His touch immediately softens. "One word."

"No," you whisper. Before you can stop yourself, your fingers dig into his locks. Your lips are pressed against his. Your nails claw his scalp, sliding gently down his beard, his broad neck and shoulders, his large muscled arms, his scarred and textured chest. Your breathing is erratic as you moan with desperation.

Wordlessly, he lifts you and lays you back on the infirmary bed. Never breaking your kiss, he climbs on top and knees your legs apart, leaning between, his dick print pressed against your thigh. Your frantic hands roam and grasp at his perfectly built body, warm and weighted like a blanket, while his erection grows and grinds subtly on your hip.

That familiar clean scent of shea butter radiates from your smooth and supple skin mixed with the metallic air of sweat and blood. His own blood is smearing onto your body, and yours is concentrated at your neck.

Like the machete, the tip of his tongue fondles your collarbone, tasting blood from your skin. It's followed by a gentle suck.

You quickly remove your black shirt, pulling him back in, and his lips trail the bare skin of your breast over your bra cup. His wandering fingers slide under your pants and over your thin panties, feeling the moist heat seal an outline of your lips.

"Show me how wet you can get."

He nibbles your jaw, your breathing and the heartbeat against his hand doing all the communicating.

The breath on your neck combines with the brush of his beard and travels through the cells of your skin, lighting every erogenous zone. You push at his pants and underwear, pushing it down past his perfect ass as you try to pull him so close he slides inside.

You want the dick. You want the dick. You need the dick.

"Say my name."

Your back lifts off the bed as your hips grind independently of you. Your body craves every touch and trembles needily at pleasure.

"I really do hate you to my core... N'Jadaka."

He bites your shoulder. You bite your lip, lifting your hips for him to take your pants and your panties at once, your eyes on his.

"You sure?"

He slides in before you answer, licking his lips when you gasp and clutch his ass, pulling him deeper. You can take it and you need it. Taking your cue, he raises your calves and pushes your knees back, getting deeper. Short, slow strokes with the dick deep inside, pushing you back. You hold onto your knees as you look down, trying to see. You missed this dick. Every 4 or 5 strokes, he'll go long and push it back in, letting you feel every delicious inch.

"Say my name."

"N'Jadaka," your face scrunches, matching the pulsation that you're unintentionally doing on his shaft. You grip him on purpose this time, finding a squeeze and release method to match his speed. He's lost in it, moving like he's possessed, his eyes rolling. He keeps going.

"Fuck," you mutter, concentrating on your orgasm thats building.

"I feel you. I feel you, let go."

He doesn't have to tell you, you hold onto him as you cum, not wanting him to stop. He doesn't.

"Ooh, Erik," you moan, clawing his back. "Ooh.. ooh.. right there, don't stop."

Your legs shake as he pulls out slowly to just the tip and pushes all the way back in just as you cum. Your legs lock around his hips, your body is trembling.

He waits for your legs to release just a bit.

Eventually, he pulls back again, leaving an inch inside of you as he brings your ass closer and holds your legs up by the ankles. You moan and whimper, taking every bit of his sweet assault, your legs now against his shoulders.

Coming once more, you find yourself on top, riding fast with both hands fisting his locs. You grind forward in small circles, feeling his hands assist by lifting you when you move.

"Watch out," he warns, lifting you completely off as he cums, cream spurting on the infirmary bed. You grab his dick and stroke until it spits again.

"No," he shuts you down when you try to put it back inside of you, cum-coated and all. "Sit on my face instead."

You do without pause, grinding the same as you would on his dick with his slick tongue reaching and flicking strategically. He grips your ass, spreading your lips more in the process and sucks on your clit gently, alternating with licks until you come again and sigh, falling to the bed and rolling off of his face.

"Mm," you moan, feeling satiated. You lay on your side with your back against his side.

He rubs slow, wide, firm circles from your lower back to your shoulders and the base of your neck. As good as it feels, you still haven't processed half of what's happened. The whole moment seems surreal, like you weren't even thinking. You were moving solely on instinct.

You still hate him. That hasn't changed, but the sex...

"UH," you exhale. "I'll probably regret this in the morning. You'll use it against me somehow, and I won't be able to look at the Dora when I- Hm."

You wrap your fingers over his thicker ones briefly as he grasps your neck, pulling your head back close enough for him to whisper, "Shut up," in your ear. "You talk too much... I'm a use it, but damn. You'll survive. It's what we do."

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[clearlydiamondz]

Loyalty to Royalty

Erik!Stevens x OC

Part Five

- - - - - - - - - -  

Princess Imani was the black sheep of her family, never really fitting the female royal type. When an arranged marriage between Prince   N'Jadaka and her is set up, she tries her hardest to get away... but she just can’t.

Warning: Smut

- - - - - - - - - -  

Once the Wakandian Royal family left, it was now Imani left with her father and step mother. They didn't speak a word to each other, and quite honestly, Imani wanted just that. She was in the main kitchen, cutting her some mangoes and kiwis as she heard someone come into the area. She looked up and saw that her Amarah stood there with a look that could kill. She ignored her, continuing to cut her fruits.

After today's events, Imani came up with a realization last night... a hard one. Amarah's is the only one that doesn't know better. She's young, new to this world, and is easily impressionable by her mother. Her mother hatred for Imani stems in Amarah because of Oshana wanting to be ruler.

"Why are you such a horrid person?" Amarah said walking towards her, with a look of disgust on her face. "Your father and my mother are in distress because of this situation and you have the nerve to sit here and-" Imani cuts her off.

"Blaming for your mothers stupidity is quite the reach." she said plopping a mango in her mouth. "Your mother is playing you like a violin and you don't even see it." she chuckled shaking her head as she grabbed a glass of water.

"You are just trying to come up with lies against my mother. She would never do such thing." she scoffed as she shrugged her shoulders.

"But.. she has." Imani sighed then turned and look at her. "And I'm sure she created lies about me too." she chuckled.

"No she hasn't. Everything she's said about you is true. You only care about yourself, you'er rude and all you do is cause destruction." Amarah snapped at her. "You were jealous of me the moment we stepped in here because you thought I was prettier and smarter." That made Imani laugh.

"And lemme guess... Your mother told you that?" she said as Amarah kept quiet. "You let your mother poison your image of me."

"Throw your opinion about me out the window and just think for a moment. Your mother is queen, yet she had you go on international television and made you look like a complete fool. Not only that, when we go to America tomorrow and counteract your claims it won't be your mother that the world laughs at... it will be you." Imani stated. Amarah stared at her before shaking her head.

"That it's not true."

"Answer me then then, your mother is Queen. Not you. Would it not make sense for the Queen of the country to make this statement?" she asked her. Amarah didn't say anything, but Imani did recognize the look on her face.

Realization.

"And another thing-" she said grabbing a piece of Kiwi. "She did not take credit for any of this. No news source on the planet has a picture of your mother, connected to that statement. It's only you. So when you get back lash, which you will, no one will think to bash the queen. All of the negativity, will be for you and only you. Politicians, military informants, the people of both Wakanda and Kambaho. She made sure it was you so if it did back peddle and it didn't end well, it wasn't her that would get the backlash. It would be you." she stated. Amarah face saddened as she realized what her mother has done. Imani never thought that she could feel bad for her, but at this moment she did. Her eyes started to swell up with tears.

"I-I thought I was doing the right thing. She told me that we could get money, a-and that you were going to hate this."

"No no, don't cry." Imani said placing the bowl of fruit on the counter. "I've already have a plan to try and save face for you. No one deserves to be laughed at by the world when you thought you were doing the right thing." Imani grabbed her shoulders.

"Wipe your tears, weakness does not look good on us."

- - - - - - - - - -  

Imani opened her fathers door to see him drinking a glass of whiskey. Sighing, she closed the door as he looked up at her. Holding the bowl of fruit, she sat down in front of his desk handing him the fresh fruit.

"It's been a minute since you came cut me a bowl of fruit." he chuckled grabbing it as she shrugged.

"Nakia sent me home with a bunch of fruit that some of the children grew at her school. Best fruit honestly." she chuckled sitting back in her chair crossing her legs, and placing her hands on her lap.

"I guess you'd like me to address the elephant in the room." he sighed. She thought about it, then shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm not even upset that you didn't show. Well, not anymore at least. I feel almost sorry really." she said to him. He didn't want to admit it but the meeting had him embarrassed and ashamed. He didn't even feel like a King in his own palace.

"Caught me by surprise." he said with no emotion as she shrugged.

"I hope you understand why, it wasn't intended to make you feel any kind of way." she admitted to him, he sighed wiping his hands over his head. "But I was hurt when I asked you to do one thing and you left me on my own."

"I know, I know it's just, I feel like I don't even have a say so in my own home without feeling like I'm making somebody upset." he responded as she nodded.

"Understandable. Well why is that?"

"You say go left, Oshana says I need to go right. You say yes, Oshana says no. My relationship is-" he stopped himself before finishing.

"Father you always say you trust my judgement, which you can assume is your judgement also?" she assumed, he nodded. "So why is that every time I make a decision, or anytime I do something, it's always the opposite with her." she said leaning forward. He thought about it.

"I'm the last person to even tell you this, because if you decide to love her then that's you. But your love should not in any way cross boundaries with the people who call you King." she snapped at him. "You sit in your office drinking your life away." she said pointing to the bottle of whiskey. "Letting her walk all over you while I have to pick up the pieces. I am tired." she whispered the last part.

"Are you even happy?" she asked him as he shook his head, making her scoff.

"I know. And I've been doing a lot of thinking." he said standing up. "I think it's time for me to finally step-down." he said as she looked at him in shocked.

"So soon?"

"You don't have to say it but I see how you look at me when I walk these halls. I have not been a great King nor father since your mother passed." he admitted to her. She stared at him, still in shock.

- - - - - - - - - -  

"Welcome to the U S of A!" Erik exclaimed stepping off the jet as Imani looked around in shock.

"Oh wow.. it even smells different here." Imani exclaimed looking around as they walked to the jet.

"Eh, back home is better." Okoye stated walking beside the three of them as Imani chuckled.

T'Challa, Erik, Imani and Okoye made their way to the cars that awaited for them that took them to the hotel that they would be at for their stay. Imani sat in her own room that was in the Suit they shared, making notes on what she should say for her speech at the mission, when she heard a knock on her door.

She looked up and saw Erik standing with two Champaign glasses filled with a pink transparent liquid. "Here's to a little celebration to being in America for the first time." he said. She chuckled as she placed the laptop on her bed, as she grabbed it from him, making a toast and drinking.

"Good heavens, why is it so strong." she choked out making Erik laugh. "Y'all American's really do love your liquor." she said placing it on the bed side table next to her as he chuckled.

"You think this strong, just wait till I get you some Henny." he winked at her smiling as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"Actually there was something I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to wait till we were alone." she said grabbing his glass from his hand and placing it on the table.

"Something happened?" he asked worriedly as she nodded. He immediately thought about the kiss that they shared the night before, scared she may have regretted.

"So my father talked to me last night after y'all had left back, and he basically told me that he was stepping down sooner that we planned." she told him biting his lip.

"You gotta stop doing that." he said leaning in closer, softly pulling her lip from her teeth as she gasped.

"Don't be touching my lips."

"You weren't' complaining about it last night." he tested her. She looked over to the side fighting the blush that was creeping on her face but he caught it. He stood up adjusting her body so that she sat on the edge of the bed with him standing between her thighs. He placed both of his hands beside her, bent down so where they were face to face.

"Must you be so close." she backed up a little. Affection obviously wasn't her thing, but Erik was determined to make it.

"I just like looking at you." he whispered to her, she bit the inside of her cheeks to refrain from biting her lip. Not being able to take the heat any more she gave him a kiss on the lips again as Erik grabbed her chin deepening it.

"Stop-" she giggled as he continued to peck her on the lips. "-N'Jadaka I need to tell you about what we talking about." she laughed pushing him away.

"How was this conversation even bought up anyways?" he asked standing up right grabbing his glass, her immediately missing the feeling of him being close.

"Well he was admitting some things, things I already knew."

- - - - - - - - - -  

The following day, the travelers found themselves in front of the Outreach center with news reports from all around trying to get close enough to the podium. She wore a long white Sun Dress with her locs in a half up half down style, and some sandals. It was an understatement that she was Royalty from a different country.

To hear that three royals from two of the richest countries in America, that just so happened to be in rule of majority of the vibranium, they wanted to ask all of the good questions. Whether it was the scandal that Erik had addressed, or whether it was about the vibranium, or even just random questions.

It was decided that Imani would be the first one up to discuss her viewpoints, and to break the news to America about her father stepping down.

As they walked up the stage, questions and flashes started flushing in, the Dora Milije making sure no intruder made their way on stage. Imani stepped to the mic, tapping on the microphone to make sure it was on. As the crowd quieted, she begin to spoke.

"Firstly, I would like to say the Oakland California has been very welcoming to me. As this is my first time here in the states, I was quite weary about the response I may receive." she started off. "And my lord, do y'all know how to cook up here." she stated as the crowd laughed.

"I would like to start off by saying, that my father, King Z'Kiri of Kambaho has grown into his age. He has come to the conclusion that he is no longer able to run this country in his state. My mother, Queen Zakirah wanted the two of them to retire while they were still able and in right mind, I am pleased that my father has decided to move on with those wishes." she replied. Questions started to pile in as she continued.

"Furthermore, I would like to address the elephant in the room. Four centuries, not only our mother nation but our sister nation Wakanda has delt with the use and supply of Vibranium. As you may heard, from a non-spokes person of both respected countries, that we were open and willing to trade. The information was not presented perfectly, though we are opened to helping we are not open to trade." she stated. The gasps and whispers went first, than the questions came after.

"We would like to apologize on all people involved that have made had the intensions or impressions to trade with us, but that offer will not be on the table for the near future to come."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Imani sat in her room, cress cross apple sauce at the foot of her bed switching between channels on the T.V mounted on the wall watching American News.

"First of all, she looks like she belongs in high school. Who is trusting Miss Imani to run a freaking country!?"

"Honestly, I don't blame them. All America is good for is sucking countries dry, and leaving them."

"Whoever that braud was to make that statement in the first place is dumb for getting the entire world hopes up."

"What America needs to do is demand their respect. Why trust these shit hole countries to run the most expensive element on Earth!?"

"They are offering any country help, what more can we ask for? Especially with aliens attacking us every five business days!"

"Amarah isn't even royal blood so who ever set up that interview only did it to embarrass her. Why would she ever be the spokesperson for Kambaho AND Wakanda!?"

She listened to all of the comments, the positive, the negative and the neutral. Her mind was racing, she didn't know what to do.

"Turn this foolishness off." she looked over and saw T'Challa walking in, grabbing the remote and turning off.

"Can't help it." she sighed scratching at her forehead.

"Stop." he said pushing her arm away from her forehead and leaning against the dresser as she kissed her teeth. "You tend to do that when your stressing." he chuckled.

"I haven't noticed." she mumbled.

"You know for someone who talks a lot, you haven't said a word since the conference. I am concerned." she looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"Not in a bad way." he defended putting his hands up in the air. "It's just, sometimes your mind runs a billion miles a minute so for you to be quiet.. it just concerns me." she sighed before standing up.

"I just hope I'm making the right decision." she stated playing with her fingers as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well this isn't the Imani I know." he said sitting next to her on the bed as she groaned.

"Whoever I hire, whatever decision I make, mistake or not I just want my people to know that I did it in the hopes of my people." she said looking at him. "If this turn around and bite us in my ass, I can never forgive myself." she whispered looking at him.

T'Challa never saw Imani this vulnerable. The weight of being the new Heir was weighing on her. "You know, this feeling is normal. I felt it, my father felt it, his father felt it, our ancestors felt it." he trailed off as she listened.

"Look. As long as I have known you, you have been preparing for this and I've known you my entire life. While we were out trying to sneak liquor from baba's cabinet, you were sitting outside the council room of both countries trying to hear what they said. You knew every single ally for both countries since you were five. You are more prepared than any royal I know." T'Challa comforted her.

"Who ever knew Challa would be so good with his words." she bumped into him as he chuckled.

"Just know I consider you my little sister Imani, just like Wakanda won't let her sister national fail neither will I." he told her as she smiled at him.

"Thanks Challa." she smiled at him.

"Now to the more important stuff." he said standing up. "I see you and Erik have been getting a little.. close." he smirked at her as she playfully rolled her eyes.

"I guess...." she blushed as he raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't know. I really like him."

"Whelp, that feeling is mutual. That man can't walk in any room without talking about you." he said in a matter of fact tone, that comment immediately peaking her interest.

"Is that so?" she said, not helping the smile that creeped on her face.

"Yeah, it's quite interesting since you couldn't stand him a few months ago." he joked as she threw a pillow at him as he chuckled. "You know how I am about these types of things, taking care-"

"Business first, pleasure second. Understandable." he mocked her rolling his eyes. "Who say's you can't mix business and pleasure?" he asked as she tilted her head in confusion.

"Literally everyone that owns a business?"

"Yeah well a country isn't a business." T'Challa stated. She was about to respond, but her door opened and she saw Erik standing there.

"Hope I ain't intrude in nothing." he smirked placing his hands into his pockets, as Challa shook his head. "Now, actually about to head out ourselves. Nakia wants to go out on a date." He gave Imani a knowingly look, before walking pass Erik and out the door.

"Talking about going out, let's go out tonight." he said standing up in front of her as she shook her head.

"No can do. We have to prepare for the interviews we have scheduled for tomorrow and we need to prepare ourselves for-" Erik groaned grabbing her hands.

"Let's just go out. Your in America for the first time and you want to stay inside and do work. I want to show you around my city." he begged her. "Please?"

There he goes with that fucking smile. She swears he could have anything he wanted with that smile.

"We go out tonight, in the morning we prepare." she pointed at him as he nodded.

"I got you."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"So, Jadaka, what's on our plans for tonight." she walked into his room. He turned around to look at her, but was caught by surprised by what she had on. His eyes wondered over her body than back to her lips.

"You tryna not to go out?" he asked her with a chuckle, his eyes doing a once over. She blushed at the comment, immediately knew where it was going, but she easily covered it with a scoff.

"Oh noo, you convince me to get dressed up, we are leaving." she chuckled sitting down on the sofa that he had in his room and crossing her legs. His eyes then sat at the way her thighs sat perfectly, most definitely using some of the coco butter from home.

"I mean I can say you do look good, right?" he smirked grabbing two whiskey glasses and a bottle of Henny. He placed both of them on the table next to her as she looked at the bottle. She took this moment to drink him and all his glory in.

"Oh is this the famous Hennessey." she chuckled as he poured them both an amount. He handed her the glass before saying,

"It is. Let's do a little pre-game." he state as the clinked their glasses together.

The taste of the drink caught her off guard as she started to cough. "Goodness gracious, what the hell is this!?" she coughed putting the empty glass on the table as he laughed.

"C'mon it ain't the bad."

"Ain't that bad!? It tastes like it belongs on the periodic table!" she claimed standing up. He busted out laughing as she grabbed the water bottle that was next to the bottle, chugging it down as she gagged.

"Okay I should've warned you." he said, wiping the tears from his eyes as she scoffed at him.

"No wonder why you Americans are so unhealthy. I think I just got level 2 liver failure from this sip." Even though it was nasty tasting, she immediately felt the affects of the drink.

"Okay... woah." she said sitting down as Erik sat next to her.

"Now you see why we like it so much." he smirked at her.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The two of them decided to have a nice dinner at one of the five star restaurants that his friend back home owned. Imani loved the different variety of meals, even sparking up conversation with him on how to cook such meals.

He finally wanted to take her to one of the lounges that he owned. With word that he and the princess was in town, it was packed with both paparazzi and people who just wanted to have a good time.

The two of them had a couple of more drinks at the restaurant, so they were most definitely feeling the drinks. Imani, sad to say it, haven't had this much fun in ages.

They stepped into the lounge as everyone started to make noise at their arrival. "Let's give it up for Erik and Princess Imani!" the DJ spoke as the two of them waved, walking through the paveway to their on VIP section.

As much as Imani was uptight, maybe it was the liquor or she wasn't on her Princess duties, but she most definitely enjoyed the lounge atmosphere. All she wanted to do was dance and have a great time.

And that's exactly what they did.

Luckily for the two of them, because of the Herb, they couldn't get too drunk but drunk enough to love the feeling.

Erik saw a whole other side of Imani. She had no shame on dancing on him, dancing on the sofa, hell even dancing on the table. Her shoes were off and her locs were now in a pony tail.

Something that he learned about her, this girl can dance and move. He loved it.

Luckily with her outfit on, she could move in anyway she wanted with out exposing herself, after all she was a royal. Erik sat on the couch with her on the glass table with a glass of Crown Royal in one hand, and a blunt in the other smirking at the princess in front of him.

"Mani, you having a good time?" he yelled over the music. She stopped dancing for a moment to look at him, with the goofiest smile on her face.

"Oh I'm having a blast." she said back to him before she stepped down. "Though I could be having way more fun." she said smirking at him as he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Mhm.. and how is that?"

"Well I'm not going to lie. That Henny drink made me feel a little funny." she admitted, a blush obvious. He knew exactly what she meant. In this moment, no matter how loud the music was, it felt like it was just the two of them in this club.

"Yeah... It does that." he laughed as she scoffed.

"You did this on purpose!" she said hitting his chest. "Though I really don't mind it." she finished. Erik knew she was a little tipsy, and wasn't sure if she was only saying it because she was. He knew if he did anything without her consent, his manly parts would most definitely be on display for the whole world to see by the morning. But it was like she read his mind.

"No worries. I'm still in my right mind about you." she told him then whispered in his ear. "About us." He closed his eyes, damn near taking her out right now but he stopped himself.

"Alright how about this? Don't drink for the next hour so you can sober up a little. Then, if you can tell me this again by the night at the hotel, I'll give you what you need. But I'm not touching you for the hour till you're clear." he looked her in the face before she nodded.

"Fair deal." she leaned over pecking him on the lips before standing up.

"Aye Erik!!" The two of them looked and saw two guys walking up the steps as Erik stood up.

"What up with y'all niggas!" Erik exclaimed giving each of them a bro hug.

"We could be asking you the same shit!" The light skinned one laugh.

Both of them were tall, one being light skinned and the other being dark skinned. The light skinned had tattoos running up his arm and neck, with curly hair. He was tall but slimmer than Erik. The darksinned one rocked locs with blonde tips, and had only one arm of tattoos. They were dripped out in Ice, most definitely looking like they had much money as Erik.

"Wayne and Jeremiah, this is my ole lady, Imani. Imani, these are my bestfriends Wayne and Jeremiah." she walked from behind the two with her hands out for them to shake.

"It's nice to finally meet you two. Erik always tell me crazy ass stories from back in y'all university days." she giggled as Wayne laughed.

"It's nice to meet you too Princess Imani." he said shaking her hand.

"Eh, I'm not formal type. Imani will do just fine." she told them.

"Okay Miss Imani." Jeremiah chuckled. As the three best friends started to catch up, Imani looked over the rail looking at all the people in the lounge. Some of them were waving up at her, and taking videos but one caught her eye.

Arianna Cope.

She was in her own VIP section across the lounge with her girl friends. With a twitch of her an eye, she looked back at Erik who was still talking to her. She looked back over and saw Arianna looking right back at her.

Giving her a stink look, Arianna rolled her eyes and started talking to her friends as they looked back at her also. Their fingers were pointing at her, it was obvious that they were talking shit about her and started to get aggressive. The next thing she knew, they were leaving their lounge and making their way across the club. The two men left as she she walked over to Erik before whispering in his ears,

"That Arianna girl is in here Erik." she told him. He turned around to look at her and saw that her face was annoyed.

"She is? Where?"

"She's making her way over here." she told him as he scoffed.

"There is security guards at the entrance of the VIP. They ain't coming up here." he reassured her. "Don't worry."

"Oh I'm not worried. Though she better be. I will fuck her up." she warned him. The threat caught him off guard as she usually isn't the one going out looking for a fight, though she did have a mouth on her.

"Oh I know, you don't have to tell me." he chuckled. He heard about the damage that the Silver Leopard has done, even on the personal missions she's done within the months.

As she was about to say something, she heard the commotion down stairs of girls yelling. "I fucking know him! Lemme up!" One voice exclaimed.

"Tell that gorilla lookin ass bitch up there to come down here with her scary ass!" Another voice said.

"Gorilla!?" she looked at Erik in shocked as he shook her head, scared that the liquor might just encourage her to beat all they asses. "Oh fuck no!" she walked to the entrance as Erik blocked her from exiting by grabbing her and holding her by the waist.

"Nah let the bitch go. Let's see what this hoe really about!" Arianna exclaimed as Erik attempted to push her to the corner. Erik knew as soon as he let her go, she could do some serious damage to all parties involved, maybe even a few deaths.

All by herself.

"Mani... chill. You know you have advantage over them, you don't want to cause a bad image for yourself." he reasoned with her. She looked at him. "Don't react to it. You got way more to loose than her." he whispered to her as she looked at him. She was mad, but it seemed like Erik was good, even great, at calming her.

"Go down there and fix it before I do."

Knowing there wasn't an ounce of a lie with that statement, without second thought, Erik was making there way down the steps to see that issue.

"Fuck you Erik! Tell that bitch to come down the steps."

"Arianna she ain't coming down to do shit! The fuck is you here for anyways!?" he yelled at her, a barrier of men between him and her.

"Nigga you do realize what the fuck happened right!? The whole entire world is making her a life a living fucking hell because of what you posted nigga." one of her bestfriends, Janiah, claimed.

"I should have my brother come up here and shoot you in your shit bitch ass nigga!" Arianna exclaimed chucking her stlleto at his head, but with his quick reflexes he dodged it.

"All because you lied on me?" he exclaimed with a laugh. "Get these bitches outta my fucking club." he told the guards walking up. They continued to protest and yell but they were taken out, cameras video tapping everything.

It was around 12 o'clock at night when Imani let her him know that she was ready to head back home. The two of them exit the club, with him carrying her as she couldn't properly walk in her heels anymore because she was sore and lightly tipsy.

"We love you Princess Imani!!!" She heard a couple of black girls say at the entrance as she smiled and waved at them.

"I LOVE YOU MORE!!!" she exclaimed as they fan-girled at the princess.

"Okay get in the car." Erik chuckled placing her in back seat of the SUV, him waving at the fans before he too entered. She sat diagonally across the seat, as Erik put her feet into hid lap massaging it.

"Ya know, it feels like I'm getting sobered enough.." she trailed off, moving her feet across his lap in a slow motion. He looked at her with a look that she didn't recognized, but boy did she love it.

He looked almost primal the way he was looking at her, and his mouth was sure as hell watering at the sight of her. All tonight with her dancing, she teased the hell out of him.

If he thought that was teasing, he was sure as hell in a rough ride back to the hotel.

"Do you mind letting the visor up please?" she asked the driver as he nodded. Erik knew she was bold, hell, every statement that went out of this girls mouth was nothing but bold. But this really was the icing on top of the cake.

"No problem Princess Imani." And with that the visor went up as he looked down at his Rolex.

"You do know you have exactly 23 minutes left right?" he warned her as she rolled her eyes.

"Are you really being so technical?" she whispered crawling onto his lap. His eyes were low from the blunts that he smoked, Imani damn near dripping at the sight of him.

"Imani... what are you doing?" he asked looking up at her.

"You said you wouldn't touch me. You didn't say anything about me touching you." she whispered, biting his ear lobe. He closed his eyes, with her placing small kisses from the bottom of his ear, down his neck. Her hips slowly started to wine, as she lifted her dress just a tad bit.

"Fuck Mani, your killing me." he grabbed her waist about to help himself but she smacked his hands. "Aht aht, you still have about-" she grabbed his hand looking at his Rolex. "About less than 22 minutes. You don't get to touch me yet." she smirked at him. If looks could kill, this girl would have been dead by the look he was giving her.

He nodded his head, his tongue gliding across the inside of his cheeks. "You playing with fire, I hope you know that." his tone was about a couple of octaves deeper as she bit her lip.

"Mmm something in me don't believe that." she smirked, questioning his ability. He didn't get offended, he didn't roll his eyes. He just smiled at her.

That fucking smile.

"Bet."

All through out the ride, Imani did everything in her power to get him to break. She don't know if she admired or was pissed off at his strength to keep his hands to himself. When they arrived at the hotel, he stepped out. He picked her up out of the vehicle due to the lack of shoes, before entering the elevator that was to the pent house floor.

He placed her down, his stare intensely on her as she bit her lip at him. He clenched his fist, again biting the inside of his cheek. They arrived to the top floor, as she turned around walking into the hotel suit. She was about to make her way to her room but he stopped her.

"And where you think you going?" he asked tilting his head, a smirk on his face.

"To my room to-"

"Take yo ass in my room Mani." he cuts her off, moving aside to let her walk in front of him. This cut throat Erik was new to her. If this way any other situation, he would have been cussed clean the fuck out. She stared at him in shock, before he laughed.

"Oh you thought I was playing. Take yo sexy ass in my fucking room. I'm not telling you again." he told her. Walking passed him, she walked down the hall to his room as he followed behind her, watching her ass jiggle in the dress. He walked behind her, shutting the door. He looked at the two glasses and the bottle of henny before he poured himself another drink.

As dominant as she was in the real world, she never knew she would get so turned on by a man telling her what to do. In her past sex life, she was always the one in charge. This.. was entirely new to her.

"I think you have about three minutes left." he taunted her. She bit her lip looking at the clock before turning to him.

"I can do a lot in three minutes." she told him, he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah I know." he chuckled taking the mint gum out of his mouth, throwing it away and taking the glass of Henny down the throat. He took off his jacket throwing it somewhere in the room. "You have no understanding how I'm about to fuck the shit outta you do you?" he bent down in front of her. The mint with the whiskey smell was damn near intoxicating itself.

"I don't, you do have two minutes to explain it though." she batted her eyelashes at him.

"I don't know whether I want to eat that pussy first because I know she's wet, or making you deep throat my dick for all this teasing. Either way you getting a treatment of both. Then, I'm bending you over the bed and making you take all this dick, I don't care if you cum a hundred times. Take you to the window, fuck you while you looking at my city. Take yo ass in the shower, give you all this dick in there." he spoke. Speechless, she started to move her thighs together. Licking his lips, he looked down at her moving her thighs. He stood up straight before saying,

"Play with that pussy for me." she stood up, slipping out of the dress, him seeing that she didn't have on any under garnments.

"Mani.." he tsked. "You were planning this entire time to get some dick." he said in more of a statement.

"How could I not?" she sat back on the bed. Opening her legs, she showed him her waxed pussy with her own happy tail, widening her legs to give a view of her pussy.

"Yeahhh." he kneeled down getting a front row seat. "Such a pretty pussy..." he whispered to himself. "Since you wanna show me this pussy like a lil hoe, gone head and fuck yourself like one." he said, still starring at it. Slowly, she moved her legs between her thighs as her hands were placed on her swollen clit. Using her index and middle finger, she moved her finger on her clit with pressure as she closed her eyes.

"Mhmm." she let out a moan. Her wetness was producing, knowing the fact that she was playing with herself in front of him. Months ago, if you told her that this is where she would be at, she would have laughed in your face. Yet, here we are.

"I said fuck yourself like a slut. Add a finger or two in there before I do it." he warned her. Trailing down to her entrance, following his instructions, she started to fuck herself with her fingers. She's done this before in the comfort of her own privancy, but it ain't never felt this way before.

"Oooh goodness..." she gasped, hitting her g-spot.

"Fuck you already creaming?" he asked her. He looked down at his watch. "You gotta minute to make yourself cum. Then your mine for the taking." she continued to fuck herself, she knew she wouldn't be able to do it in the moment, but this was Imani we were talking about. She always loved a challenge.

"Erik!!" she exclaimed as he shook his head.

"Nah, moan the name I was given."

"N'Jadaka..." she moaned. With the hour finally up, he slapped her hand away.

"Move." Was all he said. She moved her fingers, him grabbing them and placing them in his mouth and with the others slid two fingers inside her. "Yeah.... I like that." he heard the wet noise her pussy was making as she moaned.

"Fuck... finger my pussy just like that." she gasped out. He spat on her clit making her gasp as he stood back up. Grabbing the back of her hair, he pulled her so that she was looking at him.

"Daddy making this pussy feel right, ain't he?" he smiled at her.

That smile was what made the dam broke. "Fuuuck you..." she moaned as she came all on his fingers as he laughed. He grabbed her legs opening them before his face was between her thighs, and happily eating her pussy. He rotated between slurping on her clit and tongue fucking her. Her hands were in his dreads yanking as the pleasure overwhelmed her.

"Ohh my goodness.." she gasped out. Her head fell back as her eyes rolled to the back of her head as Erik continued to eat her out, purposely making the slurping sounds just so she knew her pussy tasted good.

"I-I don't think I can come again." he pulled away, slapping her clit as she bucked her hips.

"Shut the fuck up and let me eat this pussy." And with that, his tongue was back like it never left.

"Daddy.. shit!" she felt the familiar feeling in her stomach, her cumming all over again on his tongue and face, yet he still did not stop.

He was here to prove a point, and my God was the point being proven.

"Daddy please!" she moaned out. The sound of her calling him daddy could've made his dick rip his pants rip at the seems. Yet, she didn't know if she was begging him to stop or to keep going.

This feeling, she have never felt before. There was a pressure she felt that she just let go. "Fuck mamas." he whispered astonished at the juices squirt outta her.

"OOHHH MYY GODD." she grabbed the blankets as he stood up taking off his shirt. As he unbuckled his pants, she sat up kissing him on the lips as he deepened the kiss. Letting his pants fall to the floor and stepping out, he grabbed her face kissing her as her hands went to his dick pulling the waist down. With his dick free, he stepped outta his underwear as she grabbed it.

She pulled away to get sight of it how it felt, because the way it felt didn't make sense.. that was until she saw it.

"All this... for me to play and fuck with?"

The way she sounded innocent , but was talking about fucking his big dick made his dick jump in her hand. Astonished she pushed him back as she slid outta bed onto her knees looking at him.

"You want this dick in your throat?" he asked her, slapping her in the face a few times with it as she nodded.

"Yes please, sir."

"Open." Right on command, her mouth was open and watering as he entered her mouth throwing his head back. Taking a minute to adjust to his size, it wasn't long before his dick was down her throat.

"Put your hands in your lap, let daddy fuck this slutty throat." he begged her. Following his instructions, with her head against the bed and him, she had no where to go as he attacked her throat.

"That's it... fuck." With her throat tightening and the wetness combined, he wasn't sure if he could last this long in her throat. With one hand she played with her right nipple, and with her other hand she started to fuck herself again with his fingers.

He heard the wetness of her pussy as he smirked down at her. "I love a bitch that gets wet at sucking my dick. Ima make you a feen for this dick you hear me, Mani?" he groaned as she nodded choking.

"Ima have you willing to take this dick anywhere and anytime, no matter who fucking watching. You like that don't you." she moaned over his dick as slob ran down her chest and to her pussy. He pulled away making her gasp for air. He grabbed her by the throat, making her kiss him, messy and all.

He lifted her up on the bed, throwing her in the middle she opened her legs for him. He crawled between her thighs, teasing her entrance with the tip of dick.

"Mmm look all that." he whispered to himself, her wetness spreading across his tip. "You know how long I've been waiting on this?" he asked pushing into her as she gasped out loud.

"Oh my-" he grabbed her by the cheeks making him look at her.

"You know how long I've been waiting on this?" he asked her again, pulling out then entering again as she moaned.

"N-no-"

"Since I met your pretty ass. Give up this pussy just...like...that." between each word, he fucked into her as she screamed. Covering her mouth with his hand, he smirked at her.

"You want everybody hearing how you giving this pussy up, huh?" she shook her head. "Alright, shut the fuck up." he said fucking her harder. Her eyes was half way open as she grabbed his wrist. She looked up at him with a surprise look on her face, his tip damn near beating her G-Spot.

"Look at the dumb look on your face. You didn't believe me when I told your ass you was playing with fire." he pulled his hands away. He grabbed the back of her knees pushing them to her chest, fucking her again.

"Daddy.." she gasped rubbing her clit as he leaned down kissing her.

"You look so pretty when you take this dick. Daddy loves making you look like this."

All this time he known this girl, she was never seen unkept. Not a hair out of place. The way she looked right now, he was happy he was the only one to be able to see her like this.

"Oh goodness, I think I'm gonna-" the splashing sounds that hit both her and his skin was heard between the two of them. The dangerous man didn't even stop fucking her, just kept it going.

"JADAKA!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. He sat back up, still fucking her, before flipping her on her stomach.

"Don't make me ask for it." Was all he said, and surprisingly enough, she knew. She arched her back, Erik smiling down at the sight.

"I think I know my favorite way to see you." he smacked her ass a good couple of times before forcing her on his dick. "Damn.. this pussy." he moaned out fucking her nice and slow. The mirror that was in front of the bed caught everything the thing two was doing. She looked inside the mirror at him as he continued to fuck her.

"Fuck daddy.." she whimpered as he continued to fuck her at the slow pace.

"I know... I feel that pussy tightening and getting wet on me. You like watching yourself get fucked don't you?" he asked her as she nodded.

"Come on, fuck this dick. Show daddy you deserve to get this dick when ever you want." Without changing a thing, she threw her ass back on him like her life depended on it.

"Mmm I love fucking this dick daddy." she whimpered out, the smacking sounds echoing in the room.

"That's right..." he groaned out smacking her ass cheeks a couple of time. "Show me how much of a slut you can be for daddy." he said watching her ass bounce on him.

He was caught by surprised by how much wetness and cream she was producing, she was most definitely turned on by the sight of him fucking her in the mirror.

"Kinky ass bitch." he told her, grabbing her locs, bringing her back to his chest. His face hovered hers, smiling in her face as he fucked her at a fast pace.

"Damn it daddy. Your beating up my pussy!" she gasped out.

"You mean I'm beating up MY pussy? Yeah I know. Shut up and take it bitch." he told her. Her hands grabbed the blankets below her as she bit her lip. He reached around with his other hand, rubbing at her clit as her mouth opened in shock. Erik took the opportunity to give her one last sloppy kiss before spitting in her mouth.

He knew she was a slut, but once she came again from the crude action, it confirmed it. He pulled out getting out of bed, before grabbing her by the ankles and lifting her up now that the bed was soaked. Turning her against the glass window, and facing her back, he lifted a leg up and inserted again.

"Fuck.. why are you fucking me like this?" she moaned out. It was a serious question. There was no reasonable answer on planet Earth why this man would be fucking her like this... or she thought.

"Walk around with a smart ass mouth all the fucking time, you just needed some good dick, right?" he taunted her as she nodded moaning. He smacked her cheek a little to let her know he wanted to hear words. "Mhm, speak when I'm talking to you. I know you got manners Princess Imani." he taunted her again.

"Yes!" she yelled.

"Noo say I needed some good dick."

"I just needed some good dick daddy!" she moaned out, with her hands on the window.

"Yeah.. and who's giving you this good dick?"

"F-Fuck you are!" she exclaimed as he smiled at her. He put his head in the crook of her neck before whispering.

"Ima nut." he pulled out, bending her over as he came all over her ass.

"Fuuuuuuck!" he groaned out. Breathing hard and heavy, he picked her up, taking him to his bathroom.

"Like I said I ain't done with yo ass yet. Take ya ass in the shower."

________________________________

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#erik killmonger #erik stevens #killmonger x reader #erik stevens x reader #killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger smut #erik stevens smut

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 1

Author's Note: You must have read the "Black Boys Bloom Thorns First" series before trying to dip into this new book!

"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. Housed 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 shape 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. Women and men allowed to participate in the momentous occasion chanced glancing his way to assess what kind of man he was on this rare occasion that N'Jadaka visited Washington, D.C.

He grew accustomed to the staring. King N'Jadaka became the legend made flesh among them, 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 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 over 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 and prevented them from becoming refugees in other nations. 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 continued to do his work professionally until Yani brought the news to the king's 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 constraints. 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 emblazoned 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. The freckles on his red-brown skin were more pronounced, covering his nose and cheeks. 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 rounded 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 appeared 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.

He wrapped eager arms around her tight and pressed his forehead against her brow. 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.

"You were very civil, kumkani," Okoye said.

"I promised Umama that I would control my hostile tendencies here."

"She would be very pleased. Princess Yani is speaking to a delegation from the Sudan. Ambassador Udaku is with the Press Secretary for the American President."

N'Jadaka peeked at his kimoyos. He wanted to leave as soon as possible without making it glaringly obvious that he was ready to dip. His declining of the White House meeting with the President didn't sit well among the ruling Republican party.

"Kumkani!"

Mpilo rushed to him breathing heavily.

"You must come immediately," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka quickened his steps with Okoye at his side. Mpilo led them through a throng of people and Yani rushed forward, clasping his hand in hers.

"What is it?" he said.

He squeezed a protective hand around hers and she pulled him toward another room. His family stood with other guests admiring a wall display. Ramonda stood with Dante and his uncle Bakari had taken off his glasses. Shavonne held an arm over Bakari's shoulder and they made room for N'Jadaka to move in front of them. Yani linked her arm with his.

"We didn't know this was here," Yani said.

N'Jadaka looked at a series of life-sized color photos of his mother Califia leading a Berkley BSU meeting. Her young face looked on fire like her hair as she held up a fist, her brows knitted together, and her mouth open spitting fire. A second photo connected to the first in a collage-styled presentation showed her carrying N'Jadaka on her hip. He was four years old wearing intricate cornrows and they both looked directly at whoever took the picture for a public event in Oakland. A deep inhale filled his lungs. The third image brought the handsome beauty of his father N'Jobu to life. He wore the dark ceremonial royal robes of Wakanda looking noble and fly as fuck. A fourth photo made N'Jadaka blink trying to figure out where it came from. He sported an MIT sweatshirt and his grin looked so innocent long ago. It came back to him. Chocolate City. A school paper had done an article about him and his dorm mates The final photo was a formal publicity photo of himself as the king of Wakanda. The entire collage mural threaded his Black American roots to his Wakandan roots, forming a romanticized link of the diaspora back to the motherland.

He appreciated his family becoming a historical footnote in the museum. Dante wiped his eyes and Yani wrapped an arm around him, helping the older man to reconcile the pain they felt in not having Califia and N'Jobu there with them.

The museum director approached N'Jadaka with a timid smile, her pale brown eyes dazzled by how close she stood next to him and his entourage. She down casted her gaze quickly when he stared directly at her.

"We hope you like this new installation King N'Jadaka. Unfortunately, the artist has been ill, or else he would've been here," the director said.

"Very impressive," he said.

His eyes lingered on his mother's image holding him while Ramonda gazed at N'Jobu's image. He wondered what thoughts went through her mind. Was there regret? Any remains of sadness that he had chosen someone else over her?

"Every time I see your parents, I see our children," Yani said. "You look so much like Riki in this one."

Yani reached out and let her fingers hover under the chin of his childhood image. He wanted to go home. Back to Wakanda. He whispered in Ramonda's ear and she slid next to the director to heap praises on the installation. Clasping Yani's hand, he guided his relatives toward the nearest exit. The Dora snapped to attention flanking them while the Onyx squad scanned for any problems.

Five dark SUVs pulled up to the side of the museum with Kingsguard drivers. Their entire party was whisked away to a luxury hotel in the heart of the capital and they disembarked in an underground parking garage to avoid paparazzi.

N'Jadaka entered his suite with Yani, and their children tackled him onto the floor wearing their pajamas. Dante watched them from a couch for a few minutes before standing up.

"I'm heading to bed, JaJa. What time do you need me to be ready for Joba's grandma?" Dante asked.

"She's arriving with the rest of Disa's family in the half cruiser around noon. We'll pick up some family in St. Thomas and Jamaica too before we travel back to Wakanda. The wedding rehearsal happens on Wednesday instead of Thursday."

"Yani's still doing the Today show interview?"

"Yes," Yani said, pulling Sydette from on top of N'Jadaka's head, "It's the only place I'm promoting the book."

Dante looked surprised.

N'Jadka gave Yani a look to take the children to their shared junior suite. Dante watched the family leave and he moved closer to his grandson.

"What's going on?" Dante asked.

"I don't want Yani in this country any longer than she has to be. We have some credible threats here in the states, and we're doing some culling of problems."

"Culling? You mean killing right?"

N'Jadaka glanced over his shoulder. Yani's voice gently scolded the children from being so hyper and loud before bed.

"Grandpop, things are escalating. Neutralizing threats will become more common for me."

"I don't have any issues with that."

N'Jadaka nodded.

"I'm turning in. See ya in the morning."

"I'm sleeping in."

"That doesn't surprise me."

He squeezed his grandfather's shoulder and watched the older man shuffle off to the adjoining door that led to another private suite. A Dora on night duty greeted Dante and closed the suite door behind him.

N'Jadaka stepped into the bedroom with his children frolicking across two queen beds. Sydette bounced on hers and played with her kimoyo beads while Riki and Joba tried to sidestep Yani's attempts to get them under the covers. N'Jadaka clapped his hands and all three children stopped goofing around and centered their attention on him. Yani placed hands on her hips, her long extensions fallen over one shoulder.

"Hey, what's going on in here? Mama said it's time for bed. Stop playing around."

"You promised us a story," Joba said.

He sighed and tread softly to the younger children's bed and plopped down on it. Pulling Joba onto his lap, he nuzzled his chin on top of her head. She touched his cheek.

"Are you too tired Baba? We can wait for another time," Joba said.

Her soft voice and soft hands brought forth all the mental exhaustion of the day.

"Thank you, Sunshine," he said.

He kissed Joba's cheek and she scrambled under the covers next to her brother. Riki patted his hand and he stroked the boy's braids.

"Night, Baba," Sydette said.

His oldest climbed under thick blankets and blew him a kiss. He pretended to catch it and place it lovingly on his cheek.

"Tomorrow you will go with Grandpop to have breakfast with Uncle Bakari and Aunt Shavonne, then Grandma Theresa will arrive and we'll all meet up for lunch," Yani said.

"When are we leaving this place?" Riki asked.

"Soon," N'Jadaka said. "Get some sleep."

All the children looked relieved. He slipped his hand over Yani's and pulled her out of the room, turning off the lights and closing the bedroom door. Yani threw her arms around his waist and they hugged each other, allowing their mutual warmth and affection to flow through one another. He had his family back.

N'Jadaka's sleep was interrupted not by a sound, but by the missing softness removed from his side. Opening his eyes, he spread his hand out feeling for Yani. A toilet flushed from the bathroom outside of the hotel bedroom and she padded in quietly, closing the door before re-joining him. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand he was surprised to see it was only three in the morning. His body felt like it had slept later than that. He spooned back around Yani's lush form and they threaded the fingers of their right hands together, tucking them under her breasts.

The TV they watched before nodding off played a twenty-four hour news channel. Broadcasts of his visit stayed on loop most of the night, but the current images flashing onscreen highlighted the weather and celebrity gossip.

"At the end of this week we will be married," he whispered into Yani's ear.

She giggled and pushed her rump against his crotch.

"Queen Yani and King N'Jadaka," he said. "Nervous?"

"A little. Our counseling sessions with Elder Efetebo gave me a lot to think about. Umama and Ramonda have helped me too. Feels like I'm a part of something bigger than anything I have ever known in Wakanda…and yet…"

N'Jadaka reached over and turned on a lamp. He turned her face toward him.

"What is it?"

Yani's eyes watered and she blinked quickly. Two small tears trekked a lonely trail down her round cheeks. He kissed them away and cuddled her in his body heat and strength. She continued speaking in a low voice.

"At times…I know many still see us as outsiders on the noble court. They don't come for mi like they used to in the beginning, but I see it in their eyes. I know they want you take a Wakandan concubine. As modern and visionary as our country is, they hold on to these old timey ways to discredit our reign. I can see if they don't want Sweet Pea to have claim to the throne, but Riki and Joba have the bloodline in them. That should be enough. They want you to have a legally sanctioned child with a second wife to make the new line more legitimate…more Wakandan than diaspora. Everyone is scared to say this to your face, so that is the only thing that keeps them in line."

"Zola and Ilana tell you this?"

"They tell me everything. They love us."

"I've been on the elders' asses about that shit."

"There's only so much they can do. They can't stop other people from talking what they feel to be true in their hearts. A segment of the population will always see us diluting the bloodline."

"I will have Zola and Ilana tell me who the gossipmongers are and I will cast them out on their asses."

Yani sighed and burrowed into his arms.

"That will only make them feel justified and maybe cause more trouble for me in the palace. I will deal with it in mi own way."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Right now I'm a weak piece on the chess board. But once that royal isicholo is on my head, I will have more power to play a different position. I won't need to run to you all the time complaining."

"You don't run to me."

She rubbed his bicep and kissed the skin there on his arm.

"I can stand on my own. I have to in order to survive the politics as queen. The more time I spend in the throne room with you, I see why you wanted me there so much."

"Does it overwhelm you?"

"Sometimes. The Council of Elders are so particular…so strict. Like I said, we have the most modern country and I can't get over how backwards they can be with a willful adherence to tradition without even considering the impact of our population being made up of so many young citizens. Nearly half of our citizens are under the age of twenty. Even before the Infinity War. These young people are hungry for change. They want to create new traditions. Look at Zola and Ilana, my staunchest supporters…their desire for new things spills over into every conversation we have together. So much goes on back home and yet, we both have to deal with the rest of the world's problems too. I tell myself I'm up to the challenge, that I can multitask and handle every little fire that breaks out in the Court of Nobles, but it can look daunting at times."

"We have each other. We have our family. There's nothing we can't get through together. I put us all in hell and we climbed back out… you and me. I plan on protecting you Yani, and providing you with anything you need for yourself or our children. The nation will know your power and influence for generations to come. I mean…look at your book tour. The world knows who you are…"

Yani's eyes drifted away from N'Jadaka's face. She reached for the tv remote on the nightstand and turned up the volume on a previously broadcasted segment. Onscreen a male news anchor out of D.C. spoke over a background image of N'Jadaka back in his Killmonger days. Mercenary fatigues covered his body and his short locs had barely curled over his forehead.

"They outed you," Yani said.

N'Jadaka listened to the anchor list his accomplishments at MIT and the Navy before cutting to alleged covert missions for various off-the-grid companies and ghost units. He sat up on the bed as a female political analyst sat in front of an image of the Pentagon. She shared a clip of N'Jadaka's speech to the U.N. and inferred that the Wakandan king's connection to the C.I.A. and mercenary past would prove to be a detriment to African nations seeking true democracy. The overall segment painted N'Jadaka in an unsavory light.

"…King N'Jadaka has stated publicly at the latest U.N. gathering in Geneva that he will continue to interfere with African nations that are in turmoil. Our government can't afford to have Wakanda becoming the world police if the U.N. can't rally around the support of ending genocide in the Congo or demanding that Rwanda and Uganda stop their pillaging of coltan in that region. His calling out of multinationals is dangerous to the progress America is making to help the DRC put an end to the loss of life there. We've sat on the sidelines long enough waiting to see what direction Wakanda will move in since the mysterious ousting of King T'Challa, and now that we know the full background of the rebel king…this by the way is what he is known as in Mohannda and Niganda. Those two nations also have large deposits of colbalt, coltan, and uranium, and their leaders have hinted King N'Jadaka may wage war to secure those resources just like he hoards vibranium from the rest of the world."

"Janice, are you suggesting that King N'Jadaka's background as a C.I.A. operative may provoke a World War Three scenario in the future? He is in our country right now, in this city exactly with other African leaders and Black politicians from around the world. You really believe he will bring us to the brink of another global disaster after we've gone through so much?"

"He is a threat to our national security and the security of other African countries who desire peace and free-trade without violence. It is our duty to protect those people, and to protect the leadership who want to sell resources that benefit all. We are all witnessing the emergence of a secretive superpower under the leadership of a man we trained in black ops and who has no allegiance to anyone. I find this disconcerting and frankly, Bill, I'm shocked at how casual the leadership in this country is taking this troubling revelation."

"Excluding his recent U.N. speech, King N'Jadaka has only spoken out publicly against the on-going genocidal war in the DRC. As far as we know, he hasn't done anything outright on the continent of Africa that should warrant the type of forceful caution you are suggesting. Why are you so adamant about this discourse in the capital?"

"Wakanda is an unknown factor in global conflicts to date. U.S. officials and the Pentagon would like to see it stay that way, but King N'Jadaka appears to be rattling his saber. His training and access to the most powerful weaponry on earth scares me. It should scare everyone, especially with his negative views toward the United States…the land of his birth."

"Genius…decorated solder…Navy SEAL…C.I.A. operative…mercenary…king…you've given us a lot to think about with your upcoming book about Wakanda's place in geopolitics."

"Here's something else to think about. King N'Jadaka —Erik Stevens when he was an American—used to have Tony Stark as a mentor."

"Iron Man?"

"Yes."

"Are you implicating the billionaire superhero in anything to do with King N'Jadaka's spectacular political trajectory?"

"I'm only pointing out how entrenched the Wakandan king is within bleeding edge technology in the military arms race and his close proximity to someone many found problematic years ago as an industrialist. Who knows if these two men are still in contact with one another? Tony Stark should be called to Washington to answer pertinent questions about his past with this king."

N'Jadaka flicked the off button for the tv. Yani placed it back on the nightstand.

"They've been sitting on this shit for a year. Been wondering when the C.I.A. would drop it in the court of public opinion. Of course that bitch pushes her upcoming book during the last leg of your international book tour. I bet all of your book sales that Everett Ross had a hand in being a ghostwriter for it."

"Will they connect me with your mercenary past? Klaue?"

"No. Klaue used aliases on St. Thomas."

"What if they ask you about how we met?"

N'Jadaka lifted a long braid from Yani's face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I was on vacation in paradise and met you…a beautiful island girl. We fell in love and that's all there is to it."

Yani kissed his lips gently and rolled back on her side. He curled around her and they snuggled for a bit. He whispered in her ear.

"I don't want you to worry about anything that woman said. They've been looking to smear me every chance they get. It doesn't take away from those who support and believe in us."

She nodded into his arm and he kissed her temple.

"These people can only speculate from afar. We'll always be ahead of them. The only thing I want you thinking about is how you'll look in that wedding dress when I see you walking down the aisle," he said.

"That woman on tv tried to make you look like a monster, but all of your achievements only made you look like a man they should praise."

"I came up out the mud and took my talents to the last place they expected. They're starting to see what Africa could become once I get these wars abolished. Africa has always been the center of the world. Once we get the rest of these colonial shackles off her feet, I'll make her flex."

"You sound like you want to be king of the motherland."

"Don't tempt me."

Yani glanced back at him.

"Would you do something like that?"

"No more talk about the world. The sun hasn't come up yet and the children are still asleep."

N'Jadaka smashed his lips against hers and hurriedly slipped his tongue in her mouth to hush more inquiries. Her watery mouth tasted of 7-Up that she must've snuck a sip of from the suite's mini-fridge. His mind slowed down the way it always did when he kissed her. The heartbeat thumps in his chest matched the speed of hers. His long locs fanned out around her face and his Golden Jaguar necklace claws grazed her throat. Yani hummed into his mouth while sucking his tongue and he gasped at the initial thickening of his dick.

Pulling away, he stared down at her face, taking in the wide round eyes with curling lashes that fluttered whispery kisses against his neck as he kissed her forehead.

"I hate when we're apart," he said.

"I know."

"I love being with you like this when the children are in the next room asleep and safe…when no one from the outside bothers us. I can have you all to myself…oohhh…."

Yani slid her hands down his chest and squeezed the growing bulge in his pajama bottoms. He leaked a growing spot of precum and she toyed with it through the silk barrier. Her fingers became sticky and slick. He groaned and murmured her name into her hair, lifting his body higher so he could watch her hand do wonders teasing his erection.

Resting against her, he slid his fingers across her chest, fondling her breasts through her gauzy nightgown top. He pulled down on it until her titties spilled out, the plump nipples feeling like fat grapes on his fingertips. Pinching and plucking at them gently, he played with her breasts until he was ready for more. He climbed above her and pushed his groin into her mound, the friction swelling his dick until it poked out of the waist band on its own. He tugged his pajama pants down and gripped the thick erection in his eager hand. Yani lifted off her gown and he pushed the covers back so he could see the blessed globes jiggle.

"Oh shit," he groaned.

He pressed the tip of his dick against her pierced clit and a glistening long thread of precum shined up her labia. Swiping the bulbous head back and forth, he smeared the clear fluid on her fat vulva like icing on a chocolate cake. Yani shifted her big thighs and her ass cheeks jiggled. He smacked the underside hard and the recoil from that position forced a heavy moan from his lips. She had gained weight. He knew her trip back to St. Thomas and Jamaica meant eating good childhood food, and his woman didn't miss nary a meal. It was a gift to him no doubt.

Kicking off his pajama bottoms all the way, N'Jadaka played with Yani's breasts and labia until he was ready to penetrate the pretty pink opening flashing at him. Yani turned on her side and he parted her labia with one fluid motion of his dick sinking deep into her. She whimpered at the stretching of her walls after a long absence.

"I won't go crazy, baby…I promise. Too many people close around," he huffed.

Her pussy accommodated his girth with a tight wetness he was accustomed to having mold like a second skin around his dick. All he could think of was President Mubiri ogling Yani's body, especially her ass. It looked so round and ripe in her dress. He thrust forward knowing that man would never know pussy as sweet and juicy as the one sheathing his exceptional length. Only kings deserved the clenching his dick received at that moment.

"Yani….dassit…baby…damn…"

He grit his teeth trying to keep from shouting. Lowering his head, he dropped his face into the back of her neck and muffled his vocal straining. In and out…her perfect gushy cavern squelched and he dug in deeper, wanting to hear the sounds of his balls smacking her ass.

"Fuck…girl…"

She arched her back and he smothered his body over hers, preventing her from taking control and making him nut too quick. His dick needed to marinate in her pussy. He held Yani's back against his chest and reveled in the snug pussy cradling his dick. Keeping still, he played with her clit without thrusting, making her indulge in the pressure off all that meat stuffed inside of her. She huffed into her pillow and wiggled her hips, but he kept her anchored against him without mercy.

"You miss Daddy's dick?" he asked.

"Yes."

She whimpered pitiful sounds and clawed the sheets, eventually wilting in his arms. His dick could stay hard for hours, the gift from the heart-shaped herb's power flowing through his blood. He rested in her walls for an hour, teasing her clit and whispering nasty things in her ear. She started crying from the delicate teasing of his fingers all over her jewel-pierced vulva for such a long time without release.

"You betta not cum until I tell you…okay?"

"Okay…okay…I can't take much more…"

She bit into his arm and the heat from her mouth made him chuckle. Yani sat on the edge of her orgasm. Her legs shook from the anticipation. He needed the slow revving from her to keep himself in check.

They shared a sex routine they always adhered to on their reunions since their year of living together in the palace. It was a way to protect her pussy from his veracity. He was never allowed to cum in her pussy first when they joined. It took too much out of her to handle him regularly, so he learned to control his first release and saved it for her submission to him on her knees. The king's affirmation was always a facial for his beautiful queen.

If Yani orgasmed too quickly first, he would head straight to pound town, spurting too much semen that always released the beast in him. Uniting their bodies in slow methodical build ups kept him manageable for her. As he resumed stroking her walls after the long delay of cockwarming, he kept tabs on his arousal levels. When it was time to shift the pace before he wore her down, he pulled his dick from her precious pink sanctuary. Yani scrambled off the bed to submit to his need for dominance.

He moved his legs over the bed and spread his thighs wider, giving Yani room to position her knees on the floor properly in front of him. She offered him her tits, smacking them together playfully, and he fondled a nipple, fisting his dick, and watching her big beautiful brown eyes stare up at him.

"I love you like this…looking up at me…yeah baby…open that mouth…stick out your tongue…yeah, just like that. You gon' let me fuck that pussy some more after this?"

She nodded, looking innocent and expectant.

"Sexy ass…" he hissed.

He bent down and kissed her and she sucked on his lower lip, tugging on the skin with her teeth. Pulling back he shoved his dick down her throat, the girth hallowing out her cheeks on both sides as she sucked and worked her neck. She smacked her lips against his tip, releasing it with a loud pop and a sliding of her tongue across her top lip.

"Suck dick so good…suck it some more…right there…let me stretch that mouth. Stop playing with it Yani, take that shit the right way…"

He reached out and softly slapped the side of her mouth and she gave him a sly grin and licked the underside of his thick ridge. He grabbed her hair then, yanking on the braids to remind her of her place. She hit that itchy sensitive part of his dick with the friction of her scandalous tongue. The thinnest part of the dermis seemed to rest there in that spot that gave her tongue-tip the secret combination to start making his dick leak with clear fluid again. His erection was like a rigid pole vault in her mouth and he was so ready to dismount with a fat nut. Yani hummed, and slowly licked along the sides of his dick. His breathing quickened to a pace that alarmed him. She was beginning to control him, making him react like a desperate man under her spell, and that was being disobedient. Her bratty behavior couldn't be corrected in the heat of her deep throating him. That would require major spanking and loud cursing. The last thing he wanted was for their children and security team to hear him curse a blue streak while spanking Yani's ass. She wanted him to hurry up and ejaculate so she could ride his dick and cum.

A surge of semen rose up through his balls. He slapped Yani again for putting a super charged gwak-gwak 3000 on him too soon. She became obedient again and squeezed his fat sack, staving off his release. He thought about letting her milk him and cumming in her mouth, but the decadent and demanding king wanted to paint her face with hot semen when he was ready. It was his way…he craved the ritual of it between them, and also because he knew a little secret about her.

He grinned slyly thinking about it.

Yani had been sneakily watching old videos of him with past lovers. Months earlier he had scanned old computers that he planned on destroying until his spyware cam detected unusual activity in secret files. The spycam revealed Yani's viewrship and he chuckled at the thought of her using him for her personal porn collection. He said nothing, and left the old computers where they stayed in their home, pretending to ignore them as old artifacts from his past life. The most viewed images were his cum shots on women's faces, and he clocked the intense looks of pleasure on her face when he did it to her. She loved submitting to him that way and it was a great help to their energetic sex life. Lovemaking wasn't as frequent as it used to be because their lives were so busy, but the intensity increased because of it.

Yani continued the arousing slow sucking. He watched her glossy plump lips slide back and forth across the top half of his dick. Her fawning eyes stayed locked on his, riling up his body because she made the act of dick sucking look so illicit. So pornographic.

Every now and then she would stop sucking and rubbed her lips back and forth across the mushroom cap creating a delicious tickling. His balls throbbed. She twisted her fingers around the head to give him new sensations, never once breaking eye contact. Yani knew how to chip away his defenses by giving off innocent vibes. She'd stay on her knees looking up at him with her big titties all out, nipples perky and offered to him like delectable appetizers. That look took him back to St. Thomas and the first time he ever touched her. His dick felt heavy between his legs. Thoughts of her back then being a little spitfire towards him ratcheted up his emotions for her in the present. In six days he would wed the most beautiful, cunning, and loving woman he had ever had to call his own. She latched onto him like a ride or die and he never wanted her to be that way ever again. She deserved better…she deserved more from him. His best. No, he would be a ride or die for her. Always.

He palmed her breasts and squeezed them. Lifted them up and down. Thumbing her nipples with wide circles, he listened to her breathy pants of pleasure. She stroked his dick. Yani would soon be the composed queen of a mighty nation in public, but at night, she would always be his nasty little slut…on her knees begging for Daddy dick to be stuffed in all of her orifices. That turned him on as he pushed her tits together. Her eyes were glassy. Lips pouted. She reached down and peeled back the wings of her inner labia giving him peek-a-boo glimpses of her wet pink. She needed his dick and slapped her pussy lips to ignite a wild fire in him.

"Taste mi," she purred.

Yani held up her wet fingers scented with her love and he licked them, opening his mouth wider so she could stuff three digits inside to paint his tongue with the dew. He swallowed her offering and she traced the shape of his lips with her own until the swollen skin on his lips itched for more.

"Killmonger."

Her moist lips pushed out the air to say that name. It ended him. He jumped to his feet and leveled the deep slit of his dick toward her cheek.

"Yani! Fuck! Fuck!"

Hollering out more expletives, a rush of thick hot cum splashed all over the side of her face. It dripped down to her neck in a sticky white deluge. He gulped for air and groaned to the ceiling.

Cumming on her face soothed the raging libido in N'Jadaka long enough for him to gather Yani in his arms and put her back on the bed. She leaned on her side again. Curling around her ass, he lifted her heavy thigh and pushed back inside her pussy.

"…fucking this pussy…."

He groaned and pumped, letting his lust take over, grateful he ejaculated on her face first because he would've broke her back if he hadn't. She took the pounding like a graceful queen, fully aware that he was lost in the pussy, her pleasure forgotten because her loving blotted out all of his senses. He took advantage of his selfishness because once she became queen, their sex life would switch over to ancient protocols that dictated that the queen had to cum first with her pussy being eaten before the king could even put his dick inside of her. Yani looked forward to that, and he plowed into her knowing that he had a week left to be a bedroom bully.

He smacked her ass cheek harder, talked his shit in her ear and knew his dick tugged on her labia long enough. The king pushed her onto her back and mounted her with one purpose: to hear her scream his name in his ear.

"Cum all over this big dick. Show me how much you love me."

Rocking into her, he held onto her bouncing tits and they both watched him pump long strokes into quivering walls. Her mouth fell open and he crushed her with his full weight. Her lips brushed against his ear and he waited to her that old name of his called out.

It didn't take long.

"Killmonger…Killmonger…fuck me…fuck me Killmonger…."

The silky muscular walls of her pussy squeezed around his dick in a constant flow of contractions that only added to his pleasure listening to her cry out for more. The ecstasy of her voice spiraled him out of his soul.

Hunched over her, N'Jadaka pressed his face into her pillow and roared into the cotton. His dick swelled inside of her and the intense throbbing rippled all the way to his anus and down the back of his ankles. He gasped like he was dying, mashing Yani's breasts into his sweaty chest and enjoying the rooted sensation of his balls throbbing and pushing out semen.

"Goddammit," he sputtered into her hair.

His eyes rolled back into watery sockets that blurred his vision. He rolled over and she climbed on top of him, breasts swinging in his face. Yani bounced on his dick and he thrust up to meet her passionate energy. He settled into sucking on her nipples and areola, letting her rock the bed with her own efforts. She gave him nurturing with the fucking, cooing to him and rubbing his locs.

"My man works so hard…you like your queen taking care of the royal dick, Daddy?"

He nodded, groaning at her soft accent and the way her pussy yanked on his dick with perfect timing. She went at his stiffness at the speed and depth that was comfortable for her and he submitted to whatever she wanted to give him. He watched the up and down movements and admired how shiny she made his dick. Her sticky wetness overflowed and made his lap slippery. The sounds of a fat ass smacking on his balls pleased his ears.

Yani leaned forward and her breasts covered his face entirely, smothering him in buttery softness like a fleshy curtain hiding him from the world. Grateful to be hidden inside her warmth, he relaxed into letting go of all of stresses, all of his problems, all of his worries. He let his queen carry him away to physical delights that poured life back into him. That's what she had always been for him. A life giver. A true goddess the way Tahir had called her.

He started hollering and Yani slammed her hand over his mouth. His heels pressed down into the mattress and his toes curled. Yani panted above him, her voice going up an octave as her second release ascended its peak.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming on your dick, Killmonger!"

She whipped her head back and forth. Arching her back, her nails clawed his chest.

"Oh, God….oh god! Killmonger…!"

He grabbed her arms and pressed her against his chest. Thrusting his hips upward, he forced Yani to take all the dick as her pussy contracted and milked every drop of cum he shot into her. Their cries of lust co-mingled into an ancient primordial release.

N'Jadaka's voice became hoarse and Yani cradled his face and kissed him, uniting all of their parts together. Her slow languid kisses centered him once more. He hugged her tight, his face mashed into her breasts, and she rubbed his head. They both could feel his stiff dick still throbbing inside of her.

"Can you take more?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Go to the restroom and come on back," he said.

He smacked her ass cheek and she climbed off of him.

Waiting for her to urinate and put special lubricants on her vulva and inside her vagina, N'Jadaka stretched his body. His dick fell back onto his stomach, the head pulsing and dribbling semen above his belly button.

"Fuck, I miss this shit," he said to himself.

Yani returned and they kissed. He licked a trail down to her pussy and pampered her with plenty of earned licks and kisses. The sweet odor of the lubricant she used to protect her womanly parts excited him. He blew a soft breath on her clit and the lubricant warmed up on her vulva adding more pleasure to their adult play time. The pale lighting of the sky heralded the new morning. Yani came in his mouth with her thighs covering his head.

Before the children arose to greet them, Yani rode his dick reverse cowgirl so he could watch the new weight of her backside gleam from the sunlight. Each time she rose up, he watched how tight her pussy gripped his dick. He kept quiet, swallowing his groans, nearly crying himself looking at how big her ass had gotten. N'Jadaka knew the weight gain wasn't from pregnancy. They had been apart since her last period, but he imagined how she would look with pregnancy weight. He liked her chunky and round like a butterball. Her weight had fluctuated over the last year, but it had settled down in the last two months until she did her book tour.

He watched the massive orbs of jiggly ass cheeks bounce on him. It was insane to have a body like that. But it was all his. Her voluptuous gifts belonged to him.

A new thought floated in his mind.

Part of the royal protocols meant that Yani wouldn't be permitted to take birth control during their wedding and honeymoon. Any child conceived during the first month of marriage to a royal couple was a sign of a prosperous future. The world was missing billions of people. Wakanda needed to repopulate. That meant she couldn't be on the contraceptive shots Wakandans used. She would already be weaned off of it to match the timing of their wedding.

He could get her pregnant right then and there.

Yani arched her back and wiggled her backside. She studied his face over her shoulder as she made love to him in the best way for him to admire her body. His dick seemed to get harder thinking about impregnating her before the wedding.

"Do that shit, Ma. Shake that ass."

Yani giggled and tossed her braids over her one side of her head and continued watching him watch her move.

"Look at all this ass…."

She reached back and lifted her ass cheeks for him, her light pink manicured nails looking lovely splayed out to tease him by digging into the ripeness of that bubble. He smacked her butt hard. They'd been fucking for three hours after the troubling news broadcast. He gripped the sheets admiring the dimpling in her backside. If she grew bigger back there during a new pregnancy, she would probably get stretch marks. Titties would get bigger too. He remembered what they looked like filled with milk and he rubbed his large hands all across both ass cheeks, sinking his fingers into the weight.

Sweat dripped down her body and pooled around the indentations on her lower back. She wound her waist teasing the tip of his dick before sliding back down, clapping her own cheeks for him. The woman knew how to keep him satisfied. He gripped her waist and kept her bounce steady. His balls ached to release. He already knew she was fatigued but kept going because she missed him so much and wanted to show off for him longer.

"Such a good girl, Yani. You took good care of this dick. I can't wait to put some more babies in this pussy."

His loose talk brought a glance back at him. Her pussy squeezed his dick with his baby talk. He laughed.

"You heard me girl. Might get you pregnant right now if you keep playing with me like this…shit. Get down for me…just like that. Arch that back. Yeah baby, givin' me that right triangle action…yeah, there it go…head all the way down…big ass up…"

N'Jadaka wistfully stared at Yani in the doggy position, her head to the side so he could watch her face while he smashed. He held onto her waist and pushed in. They had to hurry or else there'd be a pounding on the door with three sets of feet jumping up and down to get their attention.

CLAP. CLAP. CLAP.

Loud. So loud.

Perspiration dropped down from his face onto her spine. His kimoyo beads lit up bright yellow. Okoye was notifying him of incoming reports from Wakanda. He had an hour before the general came to him.

He groaned once Yani hit that spot on his dick with her pussy that felt like lips and tongue suction. The queen had skills that were mindblowing. She started cumming before he did so he rode her wave of pleasure, encouraging her to squirt all over him and fuck up the covers even more with all their fluids on the blanket. He pulled out and palmed her ass, holding the tip of his dick close to her entrance where he shot ribbons of heat all over her labia. Sitting back on his haunches, he admired the way her tight pink opening throbbed and glistened with his cum covering it. She moaned softly at his gentle fingering of the pretty mess he made.

He rubbed her booty and then helped her get under the covers. Kissing her forehead he wasn't surprised to see her drift away quickly from exhaustion. She knew more than anyone it would be some time before they could be like that again until their wedding night. Once back in Wakanda there would be a whirlwind of duties and ceremonial events for their betrothal march.

His dick finally went limp.

He showered and changed into a saffron yellow lounging tunic and slacks. Kora arrived on time to get the children up and ready for breakfast with the rest of the family. He kissed them goodbye and welcomed Okoye and Ayo into the suite.

"Sit," he said.

He poured himself fresh orange juice and nibbled at some breakfast pastries his personal chef sent down from the half cruiser floating invisibly above the hotel roof. Getting comfortable in a side chair, he watched the two Doras on the couch.

Okoye tapped her beads and ten pictures of African men floated above her wrist. She flicked the images above the hotel coffee table and N'Jadaka peered at each one with stern eyes. Each man came from various nations on the continent in service of genocide and predatory exploitation. Okoye tapped each image as she spoke.

"Angola, Congo, Rwanda, Uganda, Sudan, Nigeria, Central African Republic, South Sudan, Somalia, and Ethiopia. Each man neutralized as requested," Okoye said.

She gave him time to inspect the stats on each man's file report before swiping them away and bringing up targets in Eastern and Western Europe.

"Ukraine. Russia. England. France. Germany. Spain. Turkey. Italy. Norway. Sweden," Okoye said.

She went through all twelve countries in South America and ended with combined targets in the U.S. and Canada.

"Any blowback yet? Suspicions?"

Ayo spoke up.

"None kumkani. Each target was studied for months before our War Dogs acted. If there were pre-existing medical conditions, we exacerbated the problem. Others were set up with accidents or placed in precarious positions through threats of exposure. Several committed self-harm when faced with public humiliation," Ayo said.

The women led him through detailed intelligence. Yani eventually woke up and padded past a narrow hall in a long ivory robe to shower and dress. Okoye and Ayo didn't notice her.

"Kumkani, there is one more target," Okoye said.

She tapped her beads and Agent Everett Ross's image popped up along with his ex-wife, C.I.A. Director Valentina Fontaine.

N'Jadaka tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair.

"Since Nick Fury has been gone, Ross is our only reliable plant. I can't take any chances trying to turn anyone around from the inside. None of them can be trusted. Not even the Black ones," he said.

"We are on standby to neutralize them as soon as you give us word," Okoye said.

"I want Ross dead, but not until I've used him up. As long as he thinks he's cool with us, I'll string him along. We can use him to get intel on Fontaine. She's making waves in the intelligence community and they're still somewhat close from what we've gathered so far."

"He wants to meet with you before you leave," Okoye said.

"Nah. I have no desire to talk with him. Just tell him I'm busy with my nuptials and will be unavailable for a month. I'm honeymooning with Yani in Umbono Cove on the houseboat. I don't want to be bothered with anything. Ramonda will oversee everything in my absence. Understood?"

They nodded.

A knock at the entrance door brought them all into guarded attention. Ayo answered. N'Jadaka spotted an Onyx Squad captain standing next to Mpilo.

"Kumkani, sorry to disturb your meeting. I have a private message from the President of the United States," Mpilo said.

N'Jadaka waved the young man over to him. Mpilo handed him a thick beige envelope with the Presidential seal on it. He read the short message inside.

"The President would like a private meeting with me too before we leave," N'Jadaka said.

"Your schedule is under tight security. We would need adequate time to set up additional protective measures inside the White House," Okoye said.

"They don't want to meet at the White House."

"Where then?"

"Camp David."

"The American Department of Defense already has additional surveillance on us since our arrival in this country. Nothing we can't handle if they try something there," Ayo said.

N'Jadaka thrummed his fingers again on the armchair.

"They've set the meeting a day after Yani's television interview."

"Will you go?" Yani interjected from behind them.

Everyone lowered their heads to Yani. She stepped into the living room area dressed in a long cozy pocket dress with vivid colors that reminded him of Black Creek in Wakanda, the place where his parents were entombed. Her hair was elaborately wrapped in a matching headwrap. She took a seat at the small dinette table by the window where their morning meal was set up. Pouring herself fruit juice, she sipped and stared at him. N'Jadaka tossed the invitation on the coffee table.

"I don't want to be bothered," he said.

"I think you should go. At least see what he wants. You won't come here again for awhile and it's time that he gets to see you in an informal place. Maybe you'll catch him off guard without all the eyes here in D.C.," Yani said.

He considered it.

"Leave us," he said.

Mpilo, the Doras , and the Onyx Squad guard removed themselves from the suite. He joined Yani at the table and they fixed themselves plates of food and ate together.

"You really want me to go?" he asked.

Yani stuffed a small Wakandan red berry pastry in her mouth.

"I think President Matthew Ellis needs to see the man that frightens him so much. Think of it as a flex if you want," Yani said.

N'Jadaka grinned.

"And people out here think you're just some sweet faced beauty on my arm," he said. "That means I won't be able to travel back home with you and the kids."

She shrugged and sipped on more juice brought from their new homeland.

"It just means I get to miss you again and we can have another reunion in our bedroom back in Birnin Zana."

He widened his legs and patted his thigh. Yani left her seat and sat on his lap. He rubbed on her booty again and rested his head on her breasts.

"I want to be on a houseboat with you…naked. Making long slow love under the moon and stars."

"We will do that soon enough."

"A whole month, you and me…partially alone."

"Don't remind me. Riki has already complained that they don't get to join us until two weeks into our honeymoon."

"Man, two weeks off with just you and me. Yeah, you definitely getting pregnant Yani."

She slapped his arm.

"Stop putting that out in the universe. We said we'd wait two more years before trying…and trying is the operative word, sir. I'm not taking the man-made contraceptive shots as tradition dictates, but I am taking precautions."

She held up the bluish drink she sipped on.

"This was given to me by Umama. Two glasses a day and it inhibits any eggs from fertilizing. You can shoot up the club and I won't be penalized for forsaking tradition…technically."

"Alright then…practice getting pregnant is good enough for me."

"Aren't three children enough for you already for the time being?"

"Nah. I'm making a whole new tribe with you."

"Easy for you to say, I'm the one who has to carry your big babies."

"I'll be right by your side spoiling you every step of the way. You make pretty babies, Yani, and my family's genes are strong. They all gonna look like me."

He kissed her neck and let his full lips linger there.

"Tell me you love me, Yani."

She cupped his chin and raised it.

"I love you."

"Say it again."

He nuzzled against her breasts and she stroked his lengthy locs.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," she said above his head.

Closing his eyes, N'Jadaka listened to Yani's heartbeat and rested in her bosom of peace.

Chapter 2 HERE.

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#King Killmonger #King Killmonger The Golden Jaguar #Killmonger Fanfiction #Black Panther Fanfiction #Wakanda Forever Fanfiction #Namor #Uzumaki Rebellion #Uzumaki Rebellion Writes

[livstarlight]

Modern AU-no powers-just everyone being regular people type of shit, and it’s christmas because I said so and because everything is more fun at christmas:

Namor (like I said before) is N'Jadaka's best friend, they get along like an hamster on a wheel (except the wheel is on fire, and the hamster is on the highway) ANYWAY they have been best friends for ages but Namor has never actually met Erik's family, if not his father once when he was alive, and Erik always talks shit about the rest of them, especially his insufferably perfect cousin T'Challa and his annoying younger cousin Shuri, and usually Namor tends to believe him because he is... you know, his best friend, and you are supposed to believe and support your friends when they tell you something and because okay they do sound like excessively good to the point of boring people

Except that one day during the holidays Erik asks Namor to come pick him up by his uncle's house and he ends up actually meeting the infamous family, but especially Shuri and okay, when Erik said young, Namor was expecting a child, not a 22 years old beautiful woman with eyes so sharp they could cut him. And there is nothing annoying about her, she is spirited... alright he is probably gone, down so bad and so fast he's already trying to come up with a plausible excuse to see her again soon. 13 years of difference is not that much right? Right? He doesn’t care, he is too whipped to care.

(If in his mind he's already trying to decipher which color should he have to mix to get the perfect shade to paint her eyes that's between him and his canvas... and possibly his roommate Attuma and his cousin Namora who unfortunately share the apartment with him and have to endure him raving about this girl 24/7 day and night for the foreseeable future) [Pray for them]

No matter she seems to have the most overprotective family around her that could rival with the Great Wall of China, or that N'Jadaka would tease him mercilessly if he knew how down bad he was for his cousin (he doesn’t hold that much love for her anyway, so if it ended bad nothing would happen between them, but Namor won’t, absolutely won’t let that happen, she is too special to lose)

She's apparently also a genius and a know it all who wouldn’t hesitate to shut him down faster than the time it would get him to say hi? Fine by him. She can dissect him to pieces with that wonder of a brain she has for all he cares.

Shuri on her part has already heard about him, and decided to despise him by principle because he's her devil-spawn-cousin's best friend so he must be awful too and who the hell decides to call himself Namor if not a deranged egomaniac person.

Except she doesn’t expect him to look like that or have that voice, or to sound way more deeper than she gave him credit for... and alright, he is intense, and stubborn to-the-point-of-idiocy when he wants to. But he can actually make a lot of sense about a lot of things, and they do have a lot in common, and he challenges her, doesn’t let her win easily, she wants to know more about him oh no he is not that bad at all what now

#thank you for staying with me with this deranged rollercoaster of a musing #I'll be here whole week #obsessing like a maniac over a ship #and creating fake scenarios about them that satisfy no one but me #namor x shuri #namuri #nashuri #seaprincess #namor #shuri #n'jadaka #erik killmonger #black panther #wakanda forever #mcu #fanfic aus #namuri christmas au

[milf-mira]

Hear me out Shuri/Nashuri nation.

Since shuri doesn't have that much experience as a fighter or doesn't truly believe in tradition/ ancestral plain, I think we need to see some sort of a training arc / spiritual arc for her ? Not necessarily in the sequel black panther 3, more like to see some glimpse of it in other MCU movies or series before the Kang movie or any avengers upcoming movie. It's confirmed Shuri will appear in iron heart and captain America ( not sure if she will appear in other MCU movies/series before a black panther sequel). It doesn't need to be long, just to show her progress, her mindset, how she is dealing with all the changes and her being the black panther now.

The reason why we need it is that in the comics she is trained as a warrior and she is more fit. And with the way Namor was beating her ass, I think she really needs to step up her games and not just rely on technology. With how smart she is, I think combining the powers given by the heart shaped herb ( which is no longer heart shaped now) and her technology would make her really powerful. I'm also convinced this new herb gives a new set of powers compared to the one before.

Another interesting thing i pointed out in a previous post I made is that the ancestral plain could be accessed by the black panther when the plant is ingested. However, I believe the black panther can go back to it and see the dead ancestors and previous black panther whenever they need to ?! I think that the ancestral plain is REAL unlike what shuri believes and making her go back to it would be an amazing character development for her. It was repeated many times that the ancestors didn't die and they continue to live on somewhere else. When she goes back to it I hope she sees N'jadaka again to receive some training just like I said in my other post BUT not only that. I'm pretty sure having access to the ancestral plain is a power itself meaning that in the comics the black panther can summon the "dead". Idk how they will incorporate that in the movies but I hope this is an additional power given to her.

After she receives both normal training in the ancestral plain and get more used with the black panther power, I hope she comes back to challenge M'Baku for the throne (tho tbh I don't mind if she just remains the black panther but at this point kid T'challa is way too young to replace M'Baku. Idk i just find it weird that someone who isn't royal is sitting on the throne but maybe that's just me ...)

What do you guys think ? I really really this is explored it will be so cool !

#wakanda forever #namor shuri #black panther wakanda forever #black panther 2 #black panther #shuri x namor #Shuri #shuri namor #Namor x shuri #marvel #mcu namor #nashuri #namuri #wakanda forver spoilers

[chaoticcandyapples]

SO after watching multiverse of madness i have made the executive decision that ALL of my headcanons exist in some alternate universe that is in fact cannon.

This means that there is a universe where:

Pietro maximoff becomes a leading member of the avengers and i love it.

T'chaka brings N'jadaka (Erik Killmonger) back to wakanda where he is raised with his cousins as a prince of wakanda. And yeah, he joins the avengers too.

Squirrel girl. just being in live action.

Riley (Sam's wingman) does not die. I just want Sam wilson to be happy, please and thank you.

Harley Keener (the kid from iron man 3) founding the young avengers as Iron Lad (except he doesn't become kang like he does in comics bc he isn't evil)

Miles Morales and Spider-Gwen meeting all of the live action Peters.

Wade Wilson (Deadpool) pretending to be related to Sam and Sarah Wilson.

Sam and Bucky just being boyfriends bc as a said earlier, I just want sam to be happy.

I'm more than happy to elaborate on anything if there are questions.

#Marvel #headcanon #marvel headcanons #mcu #marvel cenimatic universe #peitro maximoff #erik killmonger #squirrel girl #avengers #marvel comics #riley marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #harley keener #iron man #iron lad #young avengers #miles morales #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter parker #deadpool #wade wilson #sarah wilson #n'jadaka #sambucky

[anime-kia]

Sleeping Beauty (Part 1)

(I'm no longer going to warn you guys about swearing cuz it's to be expected. Also, I'm not making anymore warnings about spoilers either) No Warnings for this chapter.

Relationship: Soulmates - King Erik x Reader

What no one knew was that Erik didn't only come to Wakanda to seek revenge, or to claim his spot on the throne, but a powerful force kept him searching. Searching throughout his time at MIT, on missions, and sometimes in Oakland on any regular day... It nagged him day and night, keeping him up at times. But as soon as he crossed the Wakandan border, the feeling started to ease off of his chest...

You were placed under a spell 3 years ago on your 18th Birthday, laid to rest in a small room similar to a garden with plants, flowers and herbs native to Wakanda. Each flower possessing healing powers in hopes to keep you alive in your dormant state.

You were not related to the royal family by blood, rather you were King T'Challa's love interest. He was going to propose to you as soon as you awoken from your slumber. Unfortunately, a stranger who entered the border had other plans that would change the both of your lives.

He was clearly a foreigner. American, W'Kabi decided, hearing the young man speak. He presented the nation with a gift. More like a cruel joke, some would say, but with reason. 

Erik was granted access into Wakanda, hands tied behind his back before meeting the king. He entered the throne room, in a cocky manner, where everyone was called to inspect this stranger. All eyes were on Erik, but he was too busy looking around the room, thinking about how he would be taking over, and making the palace his.

T'Challa commands Erik, in which W'kabi translates, "Speak."

Erik felt a rush before answering, "I'm stayin' in ya house. Serving justice to a man who stole your vibranium and murdered ya people... Justice your king couldn't deliver."

How insulting, the audacity of this man to walk in this room like he owned it, then to one up with the King of Wakanda!

Upset from his failed mission, T'Challa got off of his throne and approached Erik, Okoye and the Dora Milaje following behind. 

"I don't care that you brought Klaw. Only reason I don't kill you where you stand is because I know who you are. Now what do you want?"

"I want the throne."

His words erupted a mocking laughter from each corner of the room. Him? The king? Ha, as if.

Erik wasn't phased by the ridicule, he explained to them why he would be a better king, and the blindness of Wakanda. 

T'Challa was not happy with Erik's choice of words, and made sure that he knew that the people of Wakanda mean a lot to him. The rest of the world can handle themselves. 

"Son, we have entertained this charlatan for too long, reject his request." Queen Ramonda stepped in. 

"Oh, I ain't requestin' nothing. Ask who I am."

"You are Erik Stevens," Shuri voiced, everyone looking at her, "An American Black Operative, a mercenary nicknamed Killmonger, that is who you are."

Though proud of his name, Shuri missed out on one very important title, "That's not my name, princess. Ask me, King."

"No." T'Challa declined.

"Ask me." He jeered him on.

T'Challa turned around, heading back to his rightful seat on the throne. "Take him away." He demanded with a simple hand gesture.

But... There's always that one person who doesn't know how to keep quiet.

"Ungubani!" The Elder from the River Tribe called out.

"I am N'Jadaka, son of Prince N'Jobu! I found my daddy with panther claws in his chest! You ain't the son of a king, you're the son of a murderer!"

All members in the throne room were stunned, conversations coming from all around. N'Jadaka? Son of Prince N'Jobu? But how can this be? He's only an American!

Disgusted, Queen Ramonda stepped forward calling out, "Lies!" 

"I'm afraid not, Queen Mother." He raised a familiar piece of jewelry in his hand, and everyone gasped in disbelief. 

She demanded W'Kabi to show her the necklace up close.

"Hey, Auntie." He smirked and said without a hint of shame in his voice. "I'm exercising my blood right. I challenge for the mantle of king and Black Panther!"

Panic was wide spread across the room, but T'Challa remained calm accepting the challenge. 

A fatal mistake that he made...

Mere moments later, Erik sat upon his throne talking down to everyone as if they were children, despite the age differences. He educated them on how he was going to run Wakanda, and how he would conquer America and end all of the messed up shit going on there. 

After the meeting came to an end, Erik was given a tour of the palace by a dainty servant named Anathi. His crude personality and aggressive nature placed fear onto the poor girl who was no older than 17. She feared messing up, already knowing the wrath of her new King.

"This is the library," She did her best to speak confidently while opening the large mahogany door, "We have all kinds of books from around the world. The king has his private room to read as well, if you're into that kind of thing."

"Nah..." He wasn't even paying attention to her, his attention was fixed onto something else, "Show me that room."

The girl turned around to see what he was talking about. His index finger was aimed at a room, located right underneath the sunroof. It appeared to be a garden, but there laid a female body.

Before Anathi could even take the lead, Erik guided himself towards the room. It was almost as if it were pulling him in.

"Y-your highness, wait." She called to him, but of course, he didn't take orders from anyone.

He grabbed onto the golden handles, pulling the door, but it would not open.

"Why is it locked?"

"We cannot allow anyone in there, your highness. Not even you."

Erik glared at Anathi from the corner of his eyes, her knees almost buckled. "Why not?" He asked sharply.

"It might interfere with her healing."

Healing? Erik thought to himself. "Where's the key?"

"Um, there's no key... There's a spell placed on the door."

"And who can break it?"

"N-no one, only she can."

Erik rolled his eyes, "Why lie?"

She didn't respond and he chuckled at her silence.

"You thought I ain't notice." He smirked, "Yeah, I know you got some tricks up ya sleeve." He grabbed her collar, "Open the fuckin' door."

Scared shitless, she wobbled over to the door and ran her hands across it in a pattern. "T-there, it's open."

"Nah, you open it first. Just in case y'all trynna set me up."

"It's not a trap, your highness."

"What did I ask you to do?" He rose his voice. 

Anathi complied, grasping the two handles and pulled the door open. She stepped to the side, allowing Erik to access the room.

The first thing he noticed was your dormant body, and that feeling he was experiencing became steady.

"This is, (y/n), she was placed under a spell a few years ago. We thought she was poisoned, but T'Challa saved her. He gathered all of these lovely seeds, planting them specifically for her. He didn't want her to perish like a normal flower, she was special to him. He loves h-"

Erik's hand was around Anathi's throat, holding her in the air, "I ain't come to hear allat sappy shit. Now be a good servant and get the fuck out before you get just like her. But I'll make sure it ain't no flowers keeping you alive." He dropped her small frame onto the ground and she immediately scampered away from the area. 

Erik watched you from a distance, admiring your every feature. Today your hair was neatly braided into a bun, while your frame was covered in a satin red gown defining your goddess-like figure. The palace servants, like Anathi, made sure that you were taken care of in terms your hygiene. They did your hair every month, trimmed your nails and changed your outfit, as cleanliness was very important to the people of Wakanda.

He wondered what you were like, how you sounded, what your interests were.

Though he didn't know you, it felt like you've known each other since birth. This feeling driving him closer to you, wanting to know who you are...  It made him go crazy... This feeling caused by a mere woman?

This ain't that soulmate bond shit- Nah, it couldn't be. He tried to brush off the thought.

He left the room, carefully locking the door. 

Surely he would return soon.

"I ain't ask for that, just gimme her status report." He huffed, frustrated, sitting on his new throne.

"Sh-she's in perfect condition, your h-" Anathi stuttered, her eyes gazing onto the floor, head low. For the past month, Erik continued to pester her about your condition. She wondered what his fascination with you was, but she wouldn't dare to ask him that.

"Then why the fuck she still sleep?"

"It's a spell."

"Then break it."

"I cannot... I am not her true love."

Erik deadpanned, almost laughed too. "True love? Stop playing with me, this ain't no fairy tale princess bullshit. This is real life!" He got up from the throne, towering over the poor girl. "You better find a way to wake her up."

Anathi hesitated for a moment, she was afraid to wake you up out of her concerns for you meeting the new king. Your heart and loyalty laid with T'Challa, you would never betray him. Anathi feared that Erik would try to kill you, or make you a servant, to tend to his every need.

His gaze was burning into her flesh as if he knew she had the key to waking you out of your slumber, "A-alright," She gave in, "There is a way..." 

The silence from Erik indicated that she could continue to speak.

"I was serious when I said true love..."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure if you ever heard of soulmates, but there is a thing called Soulmate Bonds. It's a very powerful attraction between the two people. Ki- I mean, T'Challa has tried to wake up her, but it has not worked... We're not even positive he is the right one."

Erik scoffed, "Y'all are really on some shit."

Ignoring his statement, she continued, "This may sound silly, but a kiss would do the trick... We're trying to find a possible match, but we don't want a thousand different men kissing her."

And Erik sure as hell would not want that to happen either...

He made his way to the door.

"Where are you going, King?"

"Don't worry about it, you're dismissed for now... Aye and clean up, you're drowning in sweat."

Erik strode down the long corridors of the palace, following a familiar shortcut that he discovered within two weeks of walking exploring that vast space. He soon found himself at the door where your body rested. Anathi made it easily accessible for him so she would not have to follow him down every visit. He pulled the handles and entered the room.

This visit, your curls were styled in an up-do, and you were dressed in a bright green, pink and yellow dashiki dress that complimented your melinated skin.

Erik approached you, his hand running across your cheek. He felt chills through his body. Is this love? He pondered. Am I her soulmate? He stared at your lips, wondering if what Anathi said was true, or if she was trying to make him look like a fool. His thumb gently pulled your bottom lip down, revealing your pearly whites.

For all the times that Erik has come down to see you, he never tried to cross the boundaries. But each visit made it harder and harder for him to keep his hands off of you. If he was actually the one for you, he could brag about it for the rest of his life. T'Challa could not do it, this would prove Erik more worthy than him.

"A kiss, huh..." Erik said to himself, chuckling at the ludicrous situation. His hands cupped the bottom of your chin as he leaned in, centimetres away from your face. But the only thing that made contact with you was his forehead that pressed against yours. It was moments like these that made him feel human again, not like the killing machine he was designed to be. He was at ease in your presence, which sure confused the hell out of him, but at least he was happy. 

Maybe not today... 

And with that, Erik lifted himself up and made his way out of the room.

To be continued...

Okay so I decided to make this a two part one-shot, only because it's taking me forever to update this and it might be a really long chapter if its just one whole thing. 

P.S. This month is going to be very busy for me, so I'll try to update whenever possible.

(Start/Finish: May 25-June 2, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

[mickimomo]

In Another Life

AU where Oni and Killmonger are siblings instead of enemies

Imagine how giddy I felt when I saw an image of KiKi and Michael. I just knew that I had to write this after that. 🥹 (source: just jared)

So, in this AU, Zuri adopts Erik after his father is killed, and he properly explains what happened and why his father died. And instead of abandoning him in the US, he takes him to Wakanda and raises him with his wife, who he was arranged to marry and eventually passes after having Oni due to complications a few years later. In the end, there's never a coup for the throne, and Erik is just eager to serve Wakanda and take care of his family. Maybe he eventually goes off to become a War Dog and then works with T'Challa and Nakia to start a program to help members of the Lost Tribe. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I'm just spilling my brain.

Here's what I wrote:

"Erik."

"Yeah, Uncle James?"

"Where's Oni?" He arched a brow as his adopted son walked into the Temple of Bast, covered in sweat and grit from all the chores he had been working on outside.

"Huh?"

"Where's Oni?"

"She's not in here with you?"

Zuri gave him a fatherly look as he plucked one last yellow leaf from the herb plant he was tending to and got up. "It's almost noon. I assumed she was with you." He furrowed his eyebrows.

A light bulb went off in his head when he realized what might be going on. "Ah. Well. She was." He laughed softly. "I forgot I sent her off to run a small errand earlier."

"A small errand?"

"To get some water from the river for the herbs."

Cebisa's eyes became saucers at the news. "On her own!?!"

"She's fine. She said she could handle it."

The short plump woman scolded the tall man with a few motherly pinches. "I swear, the two of you are the reasons my hairs are turning white."

"That's not our fault."

"Oh?"

"It's because you're getting old."

"Old eh? I only look old from all this stress!" She smacked him. "After all I do. I tell you. The children of this world are getting more disrespectful."

"I'm grown."

"You're not grown if you do not respect your elders."

"Now you know I don't believe that bullshit-"

"AH! AH!"

Zuri closed his eyes as Cebisa began to shout at his son in xhosa and dust him with red sand for cursing.

Erik took it like be always did.

A shit eating grin and a few chuckles that earned him more sand and a threat to wash his mouth out with soap.

Cebisa stormed as the young man bit back a chuckle.

"You need to do better." He opened his eyes to look at Erik. "Next time she will use your mouth as a soap mold."

"What about Oni?" He joked.

"It is your fault that she even knows profanity."

"My fault? She's in her 20s, Uncle James."

"Who was it that made Oni's first word a curse word?"

Erik bit his tongue when he recalled his little sister as a baby, casually dropping the f bomb and giving almost everyone in the room a heart attack.

And babies being babies.

She just kept saying it.

And he was the #1 suspect.

Uncle James never put his hands on him before, but he was really worried when that happened.

It took an entire month of learning other words to get that word out of her vocabulary, and curse words were forbidden from then on out.

"It's a sentence enhancer."

Zuri shook his head before waving him off. "Go help Oni, before I enhance you with more work. You know she's probably struggling making her way back in her gown and veil."

"Alright." He offered a small nod before retreating.

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Erik found Oni cursing under her breath as she struggled to carry a vibranium pole with four large buckets of water up a hill.

Her lilac dress was soaked, slightly tattered, and the bottom was filthy with mud.

Her veil stuck to face with sweat, and her breath was labored as she slowly journeyed upwards.

"Did I just hear the Vessel of Bast curse?"

"Don't fucking start." She snapped.

"Ooooh. Wait till Uncle James finds out."

"N'Jadaka, I am too tired to argue with you."

"Well, you look like you went through hell." Erik chuckled.

"Victory doesn't always look pretty." She grunted as she slowly made her way towards him.

"I don't get why you always insist on taking the hard route." He moved forward to help. "I sent you off to do this hours ago. How long did you fight to get four buckets balanced on your shoulders instead of taking four trips?"

"All morning." She huffed before growling at his assistance. "I don't need your help!"

"Yes. Yes. You are strong and mighty." He imitated her voice before he poked her forehead. "But you're also soft and fragile."

"I don't like that." She huffed.

"It's called balance, sis. You can't be strong without weakness." He scolded her softly.

"I'm training to be strong. I can't afford to be weak."

"Yes, you can. You don't have to be strong all the time. You got the best big brother in the world. You know I'll fight the wind for you, if you ask me to." He laughed softly before sighing when he noticed her hands were bleeding. "But you have to give yourself breaks and ask for help before you hurt yourself."

"I don't need anyone's help, Erik." She huffed. "Okoye didn't get help when working to become General of the Dora Milaje. She worked hard and denied her weaknesses until she got it."

"Whoever told you that forgot to mention the parts where Okoye was sore and tired and wanted to quit and human." He narrowed his eyes. "And although you're a little different with Bast and shit. You need to remember that you are still human. At the end of the day, we all die, and we all have to go to the ancestral plane." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you trying to train so hard that you wake up with the ancestors?"

"No."

"Then you need to take breaks and ask for help. Got it?"

"Got it."

He grabbed two buckets off from each end of the pole before refocusing on her. "I promise, you've trained enough for the day. You need to sit down and smell some flowers or something." He glanced at her. "Something those colonizers do in those cheesy movies you and Shuri make me watch."

Oni snorted before smiling. "Like what? Bake a cake? Paint my nails? Go to the club?"

"The first two sound phenomenal."

"Hypocrite."

"Hey. I'm not the Vessel of Bast."

"And if I wasn't?"

"You still wouldn't be going."

"What!? Why not?"

"I promise, you will not find the love of your life in the club."

"I'm just going there for a good time."

"You won't find a good time there." He joked. "It's just a bunch of sweaty, musty, tipsy, horny, and high people." He wrinkled his nose. "Ever smelled vomit after someone crossed their liquor or urine because someone couldn't make it to the bathroom in time after drinking all night?"

Oni rolled her eyes. "Thank you for that. You somehow made the club sound less fun."

"As your big bro, it's my job to look out for you, annoy you, and kick ass when people try to come for you."

Oni took a deep breath and shook her head. "You say that all the time."

"Because it's true." He grinned. "Now come on. Uncle James was looking for you, and Auntie Cebisa was pressed."

"Pressed? What happened?"

"Dunno." He lied.

"I'm screwed."

"You won't be if we swing home first and get you patched and cleaned up."

Oni began to walk. "Then we better hurry."

He offered a nod before following after her. "I mean, that'll require you to shower quickly and not have a concert singing your little heart out for five hours."

"I do not spend five hours in the shower!"

"You're right. I shoulda said 10."

"It wasn't 10 either! It's always 30 minutes max, 10 minutes minimum!"

"Let me move away-"

"Move away!?"

"Bast will surely strike you down for lying-"

"N'Jadaka I swear-" She took a deep breath as he laughed at her irritation. "I'll be fast." She grumbled.

"How does that song you alway play on your speaker go-?" He arched a brow before he began to sing intentionally off key.  "We be all night- looooooooooOooooovvvEeeee."

"Shuuut uppppp, N'Jadaka!"

"LooooooOoooooooveeEeee."

She attempted a fast, but hard sweeping kick to his ankles and moved when he attempted to kick her back.

They both laughed and ran back home carefully (but intentionally), trying to trip one another.

Erik in this AU:

#erik killmonger #if zuri had adopted erik #black panther happy ending #oni daughter of zuri #zuri #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #big brother erik killmonger #in another life au #oni is still chasing her dreams #family au #black panther fanfiction #black panther oc

[phenomenal1500]

~The Broken Soul~

Masterlist

A/N: This was requested by Sp44wn on AO3. Thank you for another request! I really liked this idea. ♥️

Summary: T'Challa tries to convince Erik to let him help him heal the wound caused at the end battle.

Pairing: None. Warning: Angst, mentions of death & trauma.

This was the moment Erik had prepared for his whole life. The moment where death and karma decided to both finally take him away from the world that he had done so much wrong to.

Killing, stealing, hurting, betraying.... he was finally paying for it and he was ready.... well.... that was what he had taught himself to think from a young age. Inside he was still the scared little boy that had lived his whole life in misery. He never meant to turn out the way he did, but years suffering from trauma and revenge destroyed his innocent side. The hatred was all that was left in him and he knew he would never be able to get free from its hold.

"We can still heal you...."

"Why so you can lock me up? Nah. Just bury me in the ocean with my ancestors who jumped from ships, 'cause they knew death was better than bondage." He hissed, trying to pull out the knife that had planted itself between his ribcage and heart during their fight.

"Think about this real good, N'Jadaka." He could hear his father speak to him through the blood droning in his ear and he teared up. He wanted to die, he wanted the pain to end, he wanted to be reunited with his father, but he also didn't want to disappoint him by giving up so easily.

He had trained hard for this.... and he failed.

"Erik, perhaps we can still rearrange something.... I know my father did wrong, and it caused him to create something way worse than he feared, but we don't have to end up the same way our fathers did. Take my hand and we will end this cycle." T'Challa held out his hand, hoping the stubborn man would let go off the knife and take it. However the time it took for the man to make a move scared him.

He was scared he would let himself die, and honestly, Erik thought about it, but then his father's words would echo through his mind again. 'Think about this real good, N'Jadaka.' What did it mean? To Erik it sounded as if his father wanted him to live and learn to enjoy life and a part of him wanted it....

Though, a part of him just wanted to pay for what he had done as well. He never regretted standing his ground and believing in what he believed, but the way he handled it and managed to get where was now he did regret.

"I know you feel guilty for what you have done and that means that there is still good left in you. Let's get you home and healthy again."

"I brought Wakanda in danger, I brought everyone in danger. I killed for this shit. I betrayed for this shit. The people hate me."

"We'll make sure you get the help you need mentally and physically, but you have to take my hand and stop thinking about everything you've done then. Wakanda will be able to forgive you for what you did." He watched the man with eyes of understanding, not judging him but rather putting the blame on his own father. This was a boy who grew up seeing only the bad side of the world and T'Challa wanted to change that. "And they will accept that you belong here now."

"I'm an outsider." He growled, hating to call himself that, though he knew everyone saw him as just an African-American assassin.

"No, from today on, you will be a rightful royal Wakandan citizen and anyone who hurts you will be punished by the Wakandan law."

"You promise....?" He looked up, finally pulling his gaze away from the beautiful sunset his father had once told him about when he was a young kid.

"I promise." He gave him a nod to clarify and carefully Erik took his hand, letting the king help him to his feet to bring him to the lab for surgery.

He didn't know why he accepted it in the end, but he wanted to live, wanted to show his dad he hadn't only put a monster into this world. He wanted to learn how to live, enjoy the good things in life.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad with the right help after all?

#marvel #marvel one shot #T'Challa #king t'challa #n'jadaka #Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #t'challa udaku #angst

[thischristianguy]

Black Panther 3: Long Live The Queen

#RecastTChalla Theory FMA version (search Elric Brothers)

Nakia telling stories of Wakanda to Toussaint. One day after hearing about his Father the boy wishes for his father. He is heard by an old lady who tells him its possible to bring the dead back. Especially Kings. (cont'd)

This old lady pops up one night outside the boy's window. She asks for a few things in return so she can bring the king back. (The old lady could be either Agatha or Wanda) The ritual is performed and nothing seems to happen. Well nothing happens in where Toussaint is(cont'd)

Nakia or whoever is caring for the boy finds certain things missing and the boy reveals all. Vibranium being very important and rare they think this is theft. Buy they cannot find the things taken even on the black market. Meanwhile back in Wakanda (cont'd)

Shuri wakes up in the pride lands, N'jadaka is not there, T'Chaka is not there. Only a Panther that grows larger and larger. Shuri cannot avoid being eaten. A woman’s voice cries out, The King of the Dead has come. (cont')

Within the great mound an earthquake reveals a long forgotten doorway its symbols talk of the King of the Dead. It is an older title within the history of the Panther cult. (cont’d)

Nakia tracks the old lady the trail ends cold. But the old lady appears to Toussiant. Come your father is waiting for you. Where? Demands the child. Where else but Wakanda she replies. (cont'd)

In Wakanda it is a two years since Shuri claimed the throne and the title of Black Panther. She is training hard, the time of challenge is soon. A year ago while Shuri was possibly beatable no one challenges her. It haunts her, she does not feel she has proven herself as Queen.

Shuri has moved Wakanda to a constitutional monarchy, she is head of state, the government is elected through the tribes at the same time as the challenge. Not unlike other countries these elected officials are courted lobbyists. An offer too good to be true is taken, remove Shuri and take over the nation.

Outside the Great Mound the new doorway is being investigated. After they leave the woman and Toussaint appear. The woman tells Toussaint the door will open for him. It does, they enter and the door closes behind them. This is entry does not go unnoticed. Another person but with yellow eyes watches on.

Nakia calls in a favour from an old “friend”. Somewhere in Louisiana there is a conversation, of sorts. Nakia appears asking the man named Jericho Drum who he is talking to.  Oh he’s gone. What are you here for he asks with disdain. To find my son Nakia replies.

In wakanda Everett Ross is up to his neck in meetings opening up wakanda has made him sought after. The same lobbyist we saw before turns up, he like Ross worked for the pentagon, he worked in the Lock program. The lobbyist leaves not able to get Ross to look the other way on a little indiscretion. Ross replies the Dora would kill me.

The young elected official and the lobbyist meet at night outside the mound. The official vouches for the lobbyist, diplomacy requires a few perks. Another earthquake and the doors fly open. In the doorway stands another Black Panther.

The official is dumbstruck and falls to his knees. The lobbyist is joined by the woman without Toussaint. Lobbyist declares You wanted a champion here he is. Phones are out, by all who dare to do so. It is not long till this is news around the world.

Nakia and Drum arrive too late. The nation is divided. Even the Dora squabble. Shuri, Okoye and Ayo are skeptical. Political manoeuvres begin not just within Wakanda but from outside the borders. Nakia and Drum head to the Great Mound. Ayo and the dora advance on forces that are entering the nation.

The Lobbyists plan is quite simple. On challenge day the champion will defeat Shuri, the young leader will become Prime Minister and Wakanda will become the next African nation to fall to corporate power. Meanwhile at night the Dora confront the invading force. They are automated corpses, Deathloks.

Outside the doors Jericho Drum tries in vain to gain access. He fumes, this is not my faith. He turns to Nakia and asks do you believe? She replies in frustration, In what? The Panther cult? The Black Panther? Wakanda? What I believe is that my son has been taken. She mutters under he breath Bast help me. The doors open, just a little, enough for one person to enter and Toussaint’s voice is heard, mother?

The plot is activated at an emergency meeting of the council. Shuri is challenged, the champion is revealed. Shuri is shaken but not impressed. The battle begins. Outside the doors. Nakia enters and Jericho attempts to follow the doors slam in his face.

The witch realises the door has been opened. It is a loose end, the lobbyist says, no loose ends no secret heirs. Been a while since I’ve killed a child replies the witch (ok at this point it can’t be MCU wanda).  Nakia finds Toussaint with an old lady who has yellow eyes. Toussaint is in a trance. The old lady claims she is not the witch. Outside the doors Jericho is confronted – voodoo vs witch battle.

From the sky a huge aircraft drops a series of containers which fall across the city and the mound. Not all of them make the landing (as the wakandan forces intercept) but a few do. One container falls into Ross’ office. Out from them spew what he immediately calls deathlocks.

The fight between Shuri and the challenger continues. Okoye and the Dora get those they can out of the chamber. Shuri moves the fight away too leaving the lobbyist and the offical behind. Jericho and the witch trade magic blows, Jericho is good but as the witch tells him you are far from home.

Against the deathlocks, the dismembered corpses reintegrate and assemble again and again. There is no honour fighting with the dead declares Ayo emerging from from a troop carrier with a BFG – EMP. The EMP turns the dethloks into meat and metal.

Elsewhere deathloks surround Jericho weapons drawn the witch taunts him again but he smiles. “But we are surrounded by the dead.” The witch races to the doors, she calls out to Toussaint, ok replies the boy. Deathlocks open fire but too late she is in the mound.

Nakia knows the witch is coming but her power is too strong and binds Nakia. Disdainfully she mocks the old woman with the yellow eyes. Your kind left this realm. You left your people. How many believers do have left? Why return now? In a short time Wakanda will be nothing more than a dream. Conquered. Just like every other nation.

Shuri’s fight is not going well. She is faster than the challenger. But it is stronger. Yet as she notices it does not tire. Shuri collapses an entire building on the challenger and it rises once more. The challenger is slowly pushing Shuri towards exhaustion.

Nakia looks at the woman with yellow eyes, Bast? Now I have four believers. Declares Bast. Four!? Snaps back the witch. This vessel, The mother, the son and the father. Oh this is rich taunts the witch. The child believes. He knows his father. Call to him child, say his name. The witch reacts striking down Bast who falls. The eyes change from yellow to brown. With the connection broken Bast is no longer there.  

Shuri decides she needs an advantage and takes to the palace where she makes it, just. She finds skybreaker the sword of the first Black Panther. In a clean move she gathers the sword doges the challengers attack and replies slicing the mask. Vibranium strikes vibranium.

Shuri strikes again across the torso. Sparks fly. The challenger appears to be hurt. Shuri once again stikes at the face. The witch turns to Nakia about to assault her. Nakia’s eyes glow yellow Bast’s voice resounds. Say his name! The boy awakes and cries “T’Challa!”

The mask sliced clean slides off the face of the challenger. Shuri’s mouth drops open aghast. Still with sword at the ready, just in case. His eyes open and glow yellow. Smiling T’Challa greets her Why Hello Sister.

The ground shakes once more and cracks open up below the witch. She falls and the ground swallows her up. Nakia free of the witches power embraces Toussaint. The two leave the necropolis where Jericho Drum is waiting. He turns watching the Deathloks, they strain and shake. Jericho are you doing that asks Nakia. No, this something bigger than me.

Racing down stairs and out into the streets Ross is firing an energy rifle. Each Deathlok hit deactivates. The rifle powers down. The Deathlok’s surround him they begin to strain shake and then turn around. All the deathloks begin forming up into groups and columns. They march as one into the capital.

The Dora attack them but the Deathloks ignore them and continue to march. They march all the way to the council chambers. From the broken windows of the chambers the lobbyist sees and knows the game is up. He pulls out a jet pack and makes for the sky with the young official realising he is most probably dead.

In the sky following the lobbyist Shuri exclaims, its really you. Why do you no longer doubt? Asks T’Challa – you went straight for the skycycles, only you would choose something so anachronistic. If you’re going to fly at least look cool when you do. Replies T’Challa

They capture the lobbyist You win this round T’Challa replies the lobbyist. The body goes mechanically limp. It was a machine all this time? Shouts Shuri.

A few days later Shuri is training again with a staff. T’Challa joins her. They spar. He attempts to unbalance her she corrects and topples him. Do you surrender she says. Yes, my Queen replies T’Challa. Then who is the Black Panther she asks. We are. Replies T’Challa. Roll Credits.

Mid Credit scene The lab Shuri is investigating the lobbyist’s andorid body. Still no knowledge on who made him. Asks T’Challa It, its and it. Corrects Shuri. I’ve sent these schematics to Riri, Dr. Banner, SHIELD, even Ant-Man Did you send it to the Future Foundation.

Why? Who are they? Asks Shuri Oh they’re Fantastic says T’Challa.

#recasttchalla #fanfiction #black panther #movie #marvel movies #BP3

[jaguarhabit]

      the last time he saw a royal talon fighter was back in 1992. other than pressing upon the page in his father's journal that showed the blueprints and contained notes of its construction. that time followed up to where he sat this instant had him feeling some type of way. on one hand, n'jadaka conservatively admired its interior; talented designers laid out impressive intricacies to a hovercraft that reminded him of the spaceships from takehiko itō's outlaw star. on the other hand, this was the same model that held a candle to the dark place in his memories and reluctantly possessed the event that saw his father—nah, i ain't even gonna think about allat right now.

      n'jadaka dismissed the night of the riots off his mind and fell back in tune with the music blasting through his earpods. cozz chorus' singing the headhunters part of the song guided him down a placid mood. the talon was speeding at an amazing velocity, and with this rate, he guessed their trip will end in n o time. as he softly bobs his head to the rhythm, his eyes lifted from his iPad to the back of the head of his pilot. they would be coming upon oakland soon and he maintained a measure of skepticism about this. the pilot being his cousin was the reason why they were on this field trip in the first place.

      during his time as an ancestor, around one of their many disagreements, one of them pertained to their late relative. t'challa, son of king t'chaka. a poor excuse of an afrikan that threw away his nuts and chose to leave the sons and daughters of the continent to damnation. he found the son moved no differently. shuri argued his assessment was wrong, and that t'challa had a change of perspective after his death. supposedly, he started an initiative, outreach centers across impoverished neighborhoods. he began with his cousin's old stomping grounds. none of what shuri told him moved him in the slightest, but he said if he were alive he'd humor her. now that he is, there was a side of him that was curious, but he mostly just wanted to see the old neighborhood again.

      they surfed through the clouds for another ten minutes before the invisible talon began to descend. n'jobu's son observes the clouds melting away and a large building coming into view. it was his own. despite the visible renovations it gone through, despite not being home for a long time, and despite his past attempts even trying to erase this place from memory, he still recognized home. his facial expression showed signs of joy or even the opposite. not a single word rolled off the tip of his tongue as the hovercraft descended until it couldn't and he took his cue to release the buckles that strapped him down.

      n'jadaka stood up from his seat and trekked over to the pilot's area. up ahead, beyond the talon's window, he regards the basketball court across the parking lot they parked in. no young would-be stars were out hooping, but he took notice of the hoop. the crate he grew up scoring some of his greatest points in was gone, replaced with an actual basket. that's change, he thought cynically. the potholes in the streets were fixed, and he spied families filtering into his old building. the building that was remade into the first wakandan international outreach center. nothing particularly stood out to him. from where he was standing, all they managed to do was throw a fresh coat of paint over a wall of shit. his lips curl underneath his thick mustache as he lifted his hand to stroke his beard.

      “ naaaah, ” n'jadaka said, in barely restrained amusement. his eyes danced over the landscape, soaking it all in. then, unable to contain himself, he laughed. “ you people are fun-knee, boy. this really all yall? ” the look in his eyes was incredulous. the derisive grin rode over his face for several seconds more, then it didn't. he'd let a lapse of silence fall over between them, whilst lines crinkled into the center knot of his brows and across his forehead, his face dubious. he worked internally on giving room for doubt on his own premature assumptions, as he recalled the uninspired promise of giving his naive cousin a chance.

      shaking his head over his demurred agreement, he pockets his fists inside his royal blue hoody after tossing the hood over his head. “ aiight then, let's see what great wonders wakanda bought to the neighborhood. ” an insoluble twinkle came to his eye, a cracked grin wearing over his barely concealed features. now he felt a little motivation to get this little family trip underway. he reaches just past her shoulder for the button that releases the walkway that leads to the outside. he said not another word to shuri as he exits the ship, into the cool oakland breeze. if anything else, being home after all these years was definitely going to have an effect on him. he just couldn't guess what.

@ignispanthr

#ignispanthr

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Introduction

In the early 1400s, long before the birth of the Golden City we've come to know, there was a cursed king who, for the safety of his nation, chose to live in the midst of a mystical forest with a few trusted guards, a handful of servants, and his lover.

Her name was Inamore, and her beauty was unparalleled. According to legend, she was a slave to his relentless love... completely enamored.

It was during the birth of their long-awaited heir that she met her untimely demise, and the king, overwhelmed with grief, relieved himself of his cursed nature to follow his beloved into death.

As for the heir? Some say he perished, lost to the terrors of the forest. Some say he died after birth.

Others, the ones who fear the infamous name of Prince N'Jadaka, claim that he IS the terror of the forest.

They say the young prince inherited the cursed nature of the king without any of his kindness, grace, and honor. They say a red-eyed demon haunts the forest awaiting any unsuspecting traveler, particularly beautiful maidens, to fall into his twisted and wicked clutches.

Whatever the truth, it is a fact that people who've wandered deep into the forest have never returned.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #black fanfic writer

[clearlydiamondz]

Loyalty to Royalty

Erik!Stevens x OC

Part Three

- - - - - - - - - -  

Princess Imani was the black sheep of her family, never really fitting the female royal type. When an arranged marriage between Prince   N'Jadaka and her is set up, she tries her hardest to get away... but she just can’t.

Warnings:

Translations:  XHOSA} omncinci - young one; umntwana wam - my child

- - - - - - - - - -

She plopped her duffle bags on the king-size bed that was located in the quest suite of the palace. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to enjoy her time here considering the circumstances that she was in but she was determined to make the best of it. Maybe, getting to know N’Jadaka wouldn’t be so bad. She was obsessed with America’s culture and who wouldn’t be a perfect person to learn from but him. 

She let her hair down, taking off her denim jacket when she heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” the door opened and there stood Queen Ramonda. 

“Hi Queen Mother.” she bowed her head at her as Ramonda kissed her teeth at her. 

“Nonsense. When you are in this palace you are a child of mine. No queen, please.” she said taking a seat at the desk. 

“Of course, mother.” she corrected herself with a smile. 

“I was about to head off the bed after my glass of wine but something told me to come to check on you. Is everything okay across the borders?” she asked her. Imai sighed, sitting down on the bed across from her. 

“Honestly...  no,” she confessed with a sigh. “Everything is so different ever since my mother passed. My father is not handling his grief in a good way. For him to move on from a woman like my mother so fast I-” she cuts herself off trying not to cry. She looked to the side as Ramonda placed her hand on her knee. “He has lost himself. My father and I used to be so close. Now, we’re like water and oil. Always budding heads. I can’t even stand being in a room with him for more than 20 minutes. I just- I just wish we could go back to things before-” she stopped herself as she let out a few tears. 

“Oh, omncinci, the unfair thing about life is the unexpected changes that it brings. The passing of your mother took its toll not only on you but it did your father,” she told her as she looked up at the ceiling. 

‘I know and I try to be understanding about that. But I feel like he doesn’t understand that I lost my mother also. And with me becoming queen, and this marriage and everything else I-” she paused before looking at him. “I can’t help but to think that I don’t have anyone to talk to about this.” she said. Ramonda wiped the tears away from her face before saying, 

“Listen, umntwana wam, you always have a place here. Especially now. I know I am not your mother but I’ll be the next best thing to it.” she told her. Imani smiled before grabbing Ramonda’s hand. “Besides, that lady that tries to call herself a queen is a headache. What is the deal with her?” Ramonda said as Imani rolled her eyes. 

“Please don’t even get me started on that, mother. She and that mut get on my nerves. She needs to put it on a leash.” she said standing up as Ramonda laughed. 

“You should have heard her trying to convince me that her daughter would be the best fit. I wouldn’t trust her to run a marathon, never mind run a country.” Ramonda stated standing, making Imani chuckle. 

“Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed to talk about this. I have so much on my plate you have no idea.” 

“Yeah.. it can be like that. Especially because you are the Silver Leopard.” Ramonda smirked at her. Her heart dropped as soon as the name left her lips. 

“I-I-”

“Don’t explain yourself. Your secrets are safe with me. The council doesn’t know.” she reassured her. 

“I am so sorry for not telling you queen mother. I am-”

“I knew it when you woke up from the coma,” she said with a smile. “There was something that I noticed in you. Only something I see in N’Jadaka. T’Challa. The love of my life...” she trailed off. “The work you have done makes you worthy of that herb. And even more worthy of being a queen. That is why I will always be rooting for you.” she winked at her. She went to the door opened it and stepped out. 

“You are a peace here. Get your rest.” And with that, she shut the door. 

Erik sat on the plain fields, not being able to sleep. It was nights like these where he was grateful that he was at home.. his true home. The night sky was breathtaking, just like his father always told him. 

“Trouble sleeping?” he turned around and saw Imani standing there with a blanket wrapped around herself. Her locs were free and flowing as she sat down beside him, him watching her every move. “Yeah me neither. Plus I couldn’t miss out on seeing this beautiful sight,” she mentioned towards the stars that shinned through the Wakandian sky. She sat down next to him as he looked at her every move as she re-wrapped the blanket around herself. It was a silence before she spoke up, 

“My father. He was not always like that, ya know?” she said looking to him. “My mothers death caused some... issues between us. My mother did not want me to be in an arranged marriage. She felt it was fair that I met the love of my life like they did, and that’s everything I was raised on, and now everything is changing. Quickly. I don’t like that.” she told him looking deep in his eyes. He stared back at her before nodded. 

“Yeah.. I get that.”

“So if I came off at first a little hostile, or uptight. I apologize.” she said. It took a lot in her to apologize. She hated apologizing but she knew how she acted was wrong. 

“Like I said, I understand your feelings. But when we have this dynamic where you don’t like me because of this, it messes up what we could do for our respected countries.” he said to her as she nodded looking out.  

“I feel like both of us should come up with some kind of... agreement yeah? We have to make this look as real as possible.” she told him. “I know the dating scene is a bit different here then back home, so we need to be seen a few times courting before we announce our marriage.” she told him as he nodded. “Be prepared for interviews and events. I know that the press in my country will be all over this, especially because you are American so we need to have control of what put into the media..” she thought out loud. 

“Is it really that serious?” he chuckled as she scoffed at him. 

“More than a blood clot to the lung. You do not understand how the elders and our council take these things. You are going to be a ruler, N’Jadaka. There is no room for any misinformation getting out there.” she warned him. 

“Maybe it’s because I’m new to this.. royal shit-” he said moving his hands in a circle for exaggeration. “But, should we not just be normal..” that made her laugh. 

“This is an arranged marriage. Nothing about this is normal.” That made him laugh. She looked at him, seeing him actually laugh and the bright smile on his face. Dimples, perfect white teeth, strong muscular build, and those lips-

She shook her head slightly before placing her hand out for him to shake. “Deal Jadaka?”

“Deal.”

The next day, she was with Okoye training in the fields with the rest of the Dora Milije. She wasn’t expecting to have such a strong routine but honestly she shouldn’t have expected less... it was the Dora Milije. 

After their training, Okoye met with Imani as they walked back to the quarters. “So.. how are you liking Prince N’Jadaka?” she asked Imani as they entered the elevator. 

“He’s... growing on me.” she said slowly. “You know I’ve always had an obsession with Black American’s culture, he represents it very well.” she said in a matter of fact tone. 

“Yeah.. we’re still getting used to him being around her. Especially T’Challa but he’s surprisingly taking it on very well.” she said as they exited off and into her office. “I actually wanted to talk to you... about the herb.” she said sitting down at her desk and Imani sitting across from her. 

“Oh yes... it’s doing it’s wonders.” she said with a chuckle. 

“That’s great Princess. But I’m more along talking about a certain Leopard.” she said raising an eyebrow. 

“Ohhh.. that part.” she winced as Okoye sighed. 

“Look, I appreciate you taking hand on some of these issues. God knows T’Challa appreciates it. But if your not careful you heighten the chances of the council finding out it’s not just two Princes that has the herb running through their veins.” she warned her, Imani nodded.

“Understood General.” she said standing up. She looked at her Kimoyo beeds before saying, 

“We have the debrief in about an hour before we leave. I’m going to change.” she said picking up her things. She had a beautiful all black dress that perfectly hugged her body. Her locs were crepped, with gold clips complimenting her golden skin. She walked into the room to see everyone there as she tilted her head to the side. 

“I hope I’m not late.” she said putting her clutch down on the table. Erik turned to reassure her but he caught wind of what she had on. He wore all black suit with the first few buttons undid. He had on a gold chain with a gold grill on his bottom row, his hair was freshly braided thanks to Queen Ramonda. 

“You weren’t late. We were just early.” Nakia responded handing her an ear piece for coms. She nodded then looked at Erik. 

“You look.. good.” he said, not sure how he should compliment her as she smiled at him. 

“Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself.” she said, noticing that his cuffs were unbotton. She walked over to him grabbing his wrist and fixing them. The rest of the group looked amongst each other and smirked. If no one had known their circumstances, they looked like the perfect couple. 

“Ooh look at Mani.. fixing her man up.” Shuri smirked as she rolled her eyes. 

“I only care to fix it because I don’t wanna be seen in public with an unkept man.” she said letting his wrist go turning them as T’Challa snickered. Erik, surprisingly not offended, laughed at the statement. 

“Oh trust me baby girl, ain’t nothing on me unkept.” he winked at her. She rolled her eyes once more, but the smile and blush that played on her face said other wise. 

“This is yours.” Shrui gave Imani a ring as she looked at her confused. “This holds your suit with some very advance nano-tech. All you do is have to twist it, and watch the magic happen.” she looked in awe at the vibranium ring. 

The team discussed their plan of action to retrieve the piece of vibranium. After the meeting and waiting for the cars to arrive, Imani pulled Erik to the side. 

“Okay, as you know we will be killing two birds with one spear tonight.  This is also our first outing as an official couple. So, we need to make this look real as possible.” she said looking at him as he nodded. 

“PDA is a must but not too much PDA. We want to look natural and not force, we want the communizers to look at us and think that we are the perfect couple for queen and king, but not uncomfortable. To the point where we think we are sex crazed young adults.” she said. The PDA comment caught him of guard. 

“PDA as in...”

“Public Displays of Affection? Do you not-”

“I know what it means. But you want me to touch you.” he asked her as she scratched her forehead. This was gonna be harder than she thought.

“Well obviously, is that not what couples do?” she asked as he rolled  her eyes. “Look, we have to make it look natural. So hold my hand once in a while, I’ll play with your ear, I’ll whisper in your ear and you look at me like you have all the love in the world for me.” she said. 

“How about kissing?” he asked. 

“Erik if you wanted to kiss me that’s all you had to say.” she joked with him as he playfully rolled his eyes. “I won’t make you do anything your uncomfortable with. Kisses on the cheek, foreheads, hands. Cute affection like that. Though eventually.. more intimate kisses will be expected but not too soon. Like I said, we need to be presented as if we are in love enough to be capable of building a family and a country. So no matter how much you don’t like me, give me your best. Got it?” 

“Bet that.” she looked at him confused.

“Bet? What bets are we making?” she asked tilting her head to the side. He laughed throwing his head back, the same dimple smile. Bright teeth. And big  juicy-

“No I’m not making a bet. It’s like.. a confirmation. Like ok, or I got you.” he said as she nodded. 

“Must be an American thing. I have so much to learn.” she said digging into her clutch. She pulled out a pin that she stole from her father. 

“You.. don’t loose this.” she showed him the beautiful gold African violet that was embedded in bits of blue sapphires. She clipped it on his jacket as he looked down at it, in awe. “My mother gave this to my father the night they were married. The violet represents love, purity, and family.” she said looking at his chess then straightening it. 

“In 1995, it was published on how every time my father was seen in public, he always had this clipped on somewhere. He never left the house without it. My mother did an interview and she shared the sentimental values it held for the two of them. It represented their love, and more importantly...” she looked at him in the eyes. “Me.” he nodded but she stepped away. 

“Even after her death he wore it but when Oshania came along, she forbidden my father from wearing it ever again, so he gave it to me. Now, I’m giving it to you. Media will see it, catch on, and you they’ll recognize how serious you are with me.” she told him.

“I gotchu.”

“You better.”

The car came to a stop as everyone looked at each other. “Everyone is good?” T’Challa asked as everyone nodded. The door opened as everyone spilled out, Erik and Imani being the last one. Erik stepped out turning around to get her hand as she smiled at him. The lights from the cameras almost blinding her. He rested his hand on her backside as they walked down the carpet as everyone took pictures of the new Royal couple. 

“Princess Imani, look over here!” the news reporters exclaimed as she smiled at the cameras.

“Prince N’Jadaka, are you and Princess Imani going to be the next queen and king?”

“When will we be expecting the next generation?”

She leaned up into his ear, making it look as affectionate as possible before saying, 

“Don’t show on your face that you are weirded out by the questions. Don’t think to much of it Prince Jadaka.” the way his name rolled of her tongue in a whisper had him thinking of some un-Godly things. He smirked down at her before placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“No worries. Like I told you, I got you.” he told her as they continued to take pictures and videos of the new ‘couple’. She knew that their would be a few aunties who would read his lips in the videos that would be posted, making up some cute scenarios of what he could possibly be talking about.  

They sat front row at the auction with her legs crossed, and his hand on her lap as they talked about small things. “You know, you are really good at this.” he whispered to her as she looked at him confused. 

“Good at what? Being a royal?” she chuckled as he nodded. “I have no choice.” she said looking at the other piece of artifact that they were showing. 

“Yeah, you gotta give me some tips for that. I’ll make myself look like a fool.” he said as she chuckled.

“Oh that’s a given sweet pea.” she said to him. “How about this. I teach you what it takes to be royal, and you teach me everything about your culture.” she said as he nodded in agreement. 

“Bet?” she took her hand out for him to shake. But he grabbed it and kissed the back of her hand making her giggle. 

“Bet.” 

- - - - - - - - - -

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#Erik Killmonger #Erik Stevens #n'jadaka #Wakanda #Wakanda forever #black panter #gold jaguar

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"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.

“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

[wakandan-smuts-forever]

🖤*Fic Idea* 🖤

Imagine if little Erik somehow met a young T’Challa through a space/time warp hole, and they were thrown into different points in their universe.

They land in the middle of battles, cities, courtrooms, and the like, to barely survive each jump, depending on each other to stay alive.

Erik is ten and can’t fight in combat, but T’Challa is twelve, with a good amount of training. While T'Challa can technically bring down a grown man, Erik is the only one who can go ahead with killing people in a fight.

They don't like each other at first, but after saving each other a few times, and a lot of confessing, they become very close.

[I also thought of including bb Natasha in this, but not sure how to fit it in with the potential plot.]

#t'challa #erik #erik stevens #erik killmonger #Killmonger #T'Challa fic #young t'challa #young killmonger #young erik #young N'Jadaka #N'Jadaka #wakanda #writing prompts #mcu #marvel #black panther #t'challa x nakia #Wakanda Forver #killmonger fanfic #t'challa fanfic #t'challa fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #T'Challa and Killmonger #Natasha #natasha romanoff #young black widow

[fckwritersblock]

Act 1: While We’re Young

Chapter 3

Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Black OC

(Unedited.)

Warning: since I deemed Wednesday my update, day....don’t hate me for this. Oh and steam....and angst if you turn around, bend down and look between your legs, tilt your head to the side and squint

16 year old Alona 17 year old Erik

September 9th, 1997

West Oakland, Ca

Over the next five years the two remained close; bonding over their lack of parents bringing them closer. Erik had been placed with an aunt from his mothers side. His aunt never had children but always wanted them. Thankfully she stayed in Oakland too. Though it was East Oakland, Erik still managed to go to school in the West since he refused to go anywhere Alona wasn't.

While Erik always looked out for her, he also taught her how to defend herself. Young Erik was no stranger to fighting. If you looked at him wrong he'd beat your ass to make sure you never did again. He was both book and street smart. Having 4.0 GPA didn't mean you couldn't catch these hands.

Respectfully.

"You gon mess around a get yourself arrested, stupid." Alona would scold him on their walks home after many fights.

He had just gotten rougher as he gotten older, while she became softer, more feminine.

Not to mention a hell of a lot prettier.

And all he boys noticed. Especially with Alona's most recent glow up. She had always been that ‘cute kid’, but now? It seemed as if puberty was hitting her with brick after brick all summer break, because when she came back from vacation in Louisiana with her family, Alona was easily the prettiest senior at Oakland Tech Highschool. While It was unwanted attention, it gained her, her own popularity...and she became the crush of her very best friend.

Erik Stevens had a massive crush on Alona Davis. He'd known it for about a year now but refused to act on it.

Until recently.

The two had been studying for the past hour at his aunts house. Really it was just her, since Erik didn't really feel the need to especially since they didn't have school tomorrow. But Thursday's was usually there's study day and he didn't want to break tradition. So there they were in his room backpacks and books over his bed, while they each sat against the way. He was perpendicular to her, her legs draped over his; a book and pen in her hand and a football in his.

"Dang girl, skippin' a grade not enough for you?" He teased poking her dimple prompting her to roll her eyes.

"Didn't you ask for my help?" She poked him in his side knowing he was ticklish.

"Ay girl!" He jumped away from her as she giggled.

"Oh that funny?"

"Boy you better not-" Alona began while shutting her book, eyes cutting at him.

But it was too late. He snatched her up before she could get off the bed and began tickling her sides. Laughter filled the room and Erik smirked at her attempts to stop him.

"Come on, stop," she laughed and he paused.

"Say it." At this she rolled her eyes.

"No, I'm not-" when he started to tickle her again she changed her tune.

"Ok, ok, N'Jadaka is the king of the world." She panted out of breath sitting up a bit.

"What I thought." He smirked down at her.

As things calmed down, both of them slowly noticed the compromising positing they were in. If his aunt or her granny had found them like this, they'd both be beating black and blue. They were alone though. His aunt was conveniently working the late shift and wouldn't be in for another 5 hours at least.

His heart raced.

Her nerves were shot.

His head dipped down.

Her eyes slowly began to close.

His eyes zeroed in on her lipgloss covered lips.

Screw it, he thought being the one to make the first move as he roughly placed his lips on hers. Immediately she kissed him back her arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled her body closer to his. It wasn't her first kiss, though he was her first at 13, and she had a boyfriend - one Erik despised- but this was new territory for them. She had the biggest crush on her best friend as well; He was unknowingly in love with her. She undoubtedly felt the same.

Time moved slowly, and soon his shirt was off and so was hers, leaving her in nothing but a black bra as she straddled him. Her hands traced the small dips in his back as he trailed kisses along her neck. Lona let out a small moan grinding into him a bit.

Her pager snapped them out of it.

Reluctantly she untangled herself from him and found her glasses before grabbing the device and reading the message.

"Crap I've got to." Alona looked over to him, thankful her blush wasn't as apparent on her chocolate complexed cheeks. "We're suppose to leave in 2 hours and I've got to finish packing."

Erik just nodded, handing her her shirt as she mumbled a 'thank you' which he thought was adorable.

Quietly the two gathered her papers and books and put them away just how he knew she liked. When she had everything, he gently took her hand taking his sweet time walking her to the door.

Neither said a word, both stuck in the own thoughts. Alona was the first to break it upon noticing the way Erik was staring at her side profile.

"What are you looking at," she asked a slight told in her head.

"You. I just wanna remember you just like this. In all your beauty. Glasses and all." He tucked one of her coils back in its place.

With a blush and a small smile she hesitantly leaned forward before placing one last kiss upon his lips. Erik savored this moment, for he knew it be the last.

"I'll see you on Monday, N'Dajaka,"

He felt a slight loss when their hands disconnected and watched as she disappeared behind the wooden door.

Erik was fully aware he was moving this weekend. The weekend she'd be going to Sacramento for her family reunion. He wasn't scared of anyone or anything , for he knew the challenges he'd have to face to get where he was going. Erik was by no means a coward.

Except when it came to this.

He couldn't tell her he was leaving. His aunt Mag had finally given up on him and was sending him to even greater distant relative to stay in Harlem. It had been 2 weeks he had known this was going to happen, yet he refused to watch the heartbroken look she'd don once he broke the news. It wasn't like he had a choice. No, things were much better off this way.

He never really did goodbye's anyway.

———————

Alona is my baby and I just knowwwww shorty gonna be heart broken 😩

Anywho...see y’all on Wednesday? 😬😅

Tag list: @kitesatforestp @readingaddict1290 @xsweetdellzx @justgetitoverwith0

#killmonger x oc #erik killmonger #erik killmonger series #killmonger x black!reader #black panther killmonger #black panther imagine #black panther #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens #wakandaforever #black!reader