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theunsweetenedtruth · 28 days

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Who Hurt You

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

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

Word Count:

Warnings: Smut, Animal instincts, praise kink

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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theunsweetenedtruth · 29 days

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Yours (7)

Summary: The ending and beginning of new things.

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 3,130 words Warnings: Smut (we're back in love baby!), Breeding kink A/n: Originally written in 2018. Translations: Mka-Fuck, Sithandwa sam-my love, usage-baby, ndiyakuthanda- I love you

Of course the press knew who Nereyda was, who she was to T'Challa, could see the way he seemed unable to keep his eyes off of her. The day after the ball, the news was filled with both the news of the outreach center and speculation of T'Challa's relationship status. Lunch with Nereyda had to take place in the palace gardens, where he did his best to entice Nereyda into a nearby bedroom or closet. She resisted, but T'Challa didn't mind. As much as he wanted her—and he wanted her so bad he could taste her—T'Challa wanted her back next to him more. He had plans to make her his queen.

Unfortunately he hadn't accounted for rivals.

Nereyda must have made a bigger impression on M'Baku than T'Challa had been expecting. But how could she not have? She was beautiful, smart, sensual. Anyone could tell from just a look and M'Baku must have been enraptured by a dance. Even if it had been cut short by the king.

M'Baku did what he could to court her in the months after, using the same methods that T'Challa himself had used in the beginning of their relationship. He sent vegetables that could only grow in Jabari lands, expensive furs for her bed and her body, and uncut gemstones. When T'Challa arrived to her apartment to find that M'Baku had sent hand craved figurines, he felt a bit put out.

Nereyda did her best to reassure him that she wasn't entertaining M'Baku, that she'd set up a meeting with him to return the items, but T'Challa was more upset with himself. M'Baku was a consequence of his actions; had he not lost Nereyda, M'Baku would not have had the chance to try his hand. T'Challa tried not to let it affect him in the council meetings but everyone could tell he was bothered and the reasons for it.

The next week, the gifts stopped coming, or at least they did as far as T'Challa could see, and though the previous gifts stayed, he didn't mind as he snuggled up next to Nereyda wearing a fur blanket and nothing else.

He lay in bed thinking about the past year and a half and the strides they'd made in their relationship. They had taken things slowly, careful not to fall into old habits and repeat mistakes. T'Challa was adamant that it would fall into place and Nereyda would be his queen. He just had to work on her time now and be patient.

But patience had never been his strong suit. He understood they were essentially starting from scratch but Bast. They had moved at a glacial pace in the beginning. She had kept the apartment, a fact that annoyed T'Challa. He didn't just want her back in the palace, he wanted her in his bed, sharing his rooms. But again, he tempered himself and allowed her to take the lead. On the weekends, he would take a car to her apartment on the edge of the city to spend the night with her. No sex though. They would kiss, making out like teenagers and dry humping on her couch. T'Challa's head would be full of her, her taste, the softness of her skin and the breathy moans she would make. He would be hard, a king ready to soil his pants for this woman, before Nereyda would pull away.

"We should stop," she would say and he would swallow his groan of disappointment and just hold her, his dick poking her as he tried to will it away.

They lasted six months like that and when he finally could have her, T'Challa thought he would cry at how good it felt to lose himself in her again.

A hand ran through his hair. "You're thinking too loud my king."

T'Challa smiled. He grabbed at the hand and pressed a kiss to Nereyda's wrist. "I'm sorry to have woken you, my queen."

"I'm not queen." He could hear her gearing up for a fight.

It was a point of contention for them, the fact that Nereyda had no desire to be queen. The council still made jabs at her, though Ramonda had relinquished small duties to Nereyda to ease her and them into the idea. Nereyda wanted nothing to do with it the idea though. The most she would do is sit in on council meetings—in the seat reserved for the queen—and offer sound advice that made even the council tone it down. It was also T'Challa's heavy gaze on them that held their tongues.

T'Challa assumed that her aversion to being queen would calm at her inclusion to the council meetings six months ago but if anything, Nereyda had become more adamant that she didn't desire the position. It led to arguments that T'Challa tried to avoid but he felt like she was being a little unreasonable. If she was gonna be with him, be his wife the way he wanted, she would have to be queen. She was great at her duties and balancing them but when he brought it up, Nereyda went almost as far as sticking her fingers in her ears and screaming at the top of her lungs. He wouldn't force her though. He was willing to move as fast as she wanted

"It's okay. You're my queen. " He rolled over on her pressing a kiss to her lips.

She rolled her eyes at the corniness but he could see the darkening of her cheeks. He settled in between her legs and found her ready for him, as usual. T'Challa bit at her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth. It wasn't a fight for dominance; the bedroom was one area Nereyda had no problem with submission if T'Challa demanded it.

He trailed kissed down to her breasts, suckling a nipple into his mouth. She moaned and pulled at his curls tangled in her fingers. Her breasts had been so sensitive lately, he was careful not to hurt her. He lined himself up with her pushing in slow, slow, slow. There was no rush to things; T'Challa wanted to take his time with the woman he loved, the woman who loved him. And finally everyone knew it.

Nereyda was panting in his ear at his ministrations. The slow pace had her wetter than he'd thought possible and she was clawing at his back. The pinch of her little nails on his back only exacerbated his need to come. He wanted to hold on as long as possible, had the stamina to do so, and their fast coupling from a few hours ago had taken some of the edge off.

"Don't hold back," he whispered in her ear. "Let me hear you usana." T'Challa pulled her knees up around his hips for a deeper penetration. She let out a breathy moan and he pulled back to look into her face. Her eyes were scrunched tight. "That's it." The sound of his dick moving inside her was almost too much for him and he picked up the speed of his thrusts. He was forceful and deep and Nereyda was moaning louder, pulling him in with her feet. When she came, it was a tightening of her insides that made T'Challa groan out of the effort not to follow her over the edge but he kept going.

"You will be my queen no matter what you say," he panted out. Nereyda was mewling, her pussy sensitive. "Rule beside me. You will carry my heirs. Mka...mka. Look how you're gripping me. Like you want me to impregnate you." She shuddered and cried out. "Is that what you want? For me to get you pregnant? I'll have your ass waddling around this whole palace." The thought of her pregnant, carrying his son or daughter is what did it for him. "Mka, ndiyakuthanda!"

When he pulled out, he gathered into his arms to watch the sunlight stream through their bedroom windows.

Nereyda walked around the courtyard of the orphanage watching the fifty girls who lived there play together. This was her hard work come to fruition and she had done it mostly alone, as was her plan. Once T'Challa caught wind of her idea for a girls orphanage, he tried to step in and handle things on her behalf. But Nereyda was determined to prove that she could build a life separate to his. He was upset at first; he was used to taking care of her and this independence she kept wanting to exercise was a blow to his ego. Nereyda had to sit him down one evening and let him know that while she loved him, she also loved herself. She wouldn't put herself in a position to not be able to keep going if something were to happen between them again.

He understood then and Nereyda used tribal events she attended with him as opportunities for networking. It wasn't enough for her to have the backing of the temporary agency; if she could get the support of the tribes, she would be able to eliminate the middle men and get full access to girls who had no where else to go. Joining the council went a long way to build relationships with the tribal leaders, as much as she didn't want to do it.

Nereyda had aversions to joining the council. Why would she want to spend time with the people who blatantly disliked her and wished she would disappear? They were willing to have T'Challa and Nakia be miserable for the rest of their lives before they decided to help people that looked like them. But her being queen was very important to T'Challa, and as much as he threatened to replace them, having a council that stood behind them would make things easier for them. She'd had some help arriving at that conclusion.

Nereyda was in the office of the orphanage. She had only six girls that were being watched by a woman who she'd hired upon opening. She had to get her numbers up or else the agency would stop sending girls her way and they would be sent to the dora or the Dora Milaje. As much as it had worked out for her, she wanted girls like her to have more options.

A knock sounded at her office door. "Come in." She didn't look up from the bills she was reading. They were piling up.

"Excuse my interruption, but you should really have a Dora with you."

Nereyda's head snapped up at the voice and immediately stood. "Queen Mother," she curtsied, more out of habit than anything else.

Queen Ramonda waved her off, looking around the office, a thoughtful look on her face. Nereyda desperately wanted to know why she was here.

"You love my son, right?"

She knew the answer; Nereyda would not have allowed herself to be publicly ruined further if she didn't love T'Challa. "Yes. With my everything."

Queen Ramonda nodded and they stood there awkwardly. It was the most they had spoken since Nereyda had moved out of the palace and the first time they had been alone since the night of T'Challa's ascension.

Finally, Ramonda spoke. "I think we both know that if T'Challa has anything to do with it, you won't be going anywhere, ever." Her tone was dry.

"Does that bother you? That your son loves me?"

She smiled a little. "No. Not anymore. I see that you are more than your status. What you have built here," she gestured around the office, "is proof that you have goals beyond being a king's wife. That you would publicly endure ridicule and show how much you love him is enough for me."

Nereyda did her best to keep her features still but she wasn't impressed with Ramonda's speech. It was a nice thought but Nereyda would proceed with caution before trusting her. Her silence was speaking for her though because Ramonda gave a small smile and sat in the chair across from the desk.

"Perhaps with time I can earn your trust, along with my son's." She looked a bit sad before shaking it off. "In the meantime, let's see how I can help you."

It was Ramonda who advised her to work the council to benefit her. After all, it was what T'Challa and Nakia had done, allowing the council to think that they were succumbing to their influence when in actuality the duo were playing the elders. Nereyda needed to take on small responsibilities to show that she was there for the long haul. Which she undoubtedly was. But now it was time to show the council. Moving back into the palace had been an exercise in patience but seeing the look on T'Challa's face the day she had shown up with all her things had made it worth it.

He had been so patient with her and she had not made it easy for him. He believed Nereyda didn't want to be queen and it disappointed him because his royal status was a part of himself that he—nor she—could avoid. But he was only partially right; Nereyda didn't want people to think she only wanted to be with T'Challa to be queen. If she'd followed him, she would've been his wife and queen within weeks and no one would have taken her seriously. As much as she wanted to be his wife, Nereyda still felt that she had to prove herself to the people of Wakanda, that she was more than T'Challa's dora or an inspiration to all doras out there. She was a business woman, head of an orphanage for young girls, that with her hard work would remain a place of safety for them that she'd never had until she met T'Challa.

But now things would change. As she stared out the window, she pressed a hand to her stomach and thought back to this morning. Nereyda was surprised that T'Challa hadn't already picked up on the changes to her body, the tender breasts, the small pudge that wasn't there previously, but she figured he'd been distracted as of late, getting ready to open another outreach center. When they were together, they were making love or he was knocked out after barely kissing her goodnight.

The only people who knew were Ayo, who'd been assigned to as her personal guard once she'd moved back into the palace, and Shuri, who'd confirmed Nereyda's suspicions. They'd both been sworn to secrecy but there was no denying it.

Nereyda was pregnant.

She'd been terrified before having an ultrasound with Shuri but after seeing the product of her and T'Challa's love, Nereyda felt a sense of peace wash over her. T'Challa would be ecstatic, especially if his words from earlier were to be believed. Nereyda kicked her work into high gear at the orphanage, hiring three more women in addition to the two who had been with her from the beginning and training someone to act in her stead to sustain the home for girls in her absence. She felt like they had their suspicions but no one mentioned anything to her. Luckily, her only symptom seemed to be a deep exhaustion that could be explained with the amount of hours she'd been putting in at the orphanage.

She could barely wait to tell T'Challa and have him shout it from the mountain tops but she knew that if she told him immediately, there would be no stopping him. T'Challa would have her on lockdown, meals at a certain time, three or four guards following her around, bed rest. She had to handle the orphanage first and make sure it would be in good hands before she succumbed to T'Challa's nagging.

She couldn't wait much longer though. Her stomach was growing by the day and she couldn't fit into most of her tighter fitting dresses. She patted her stomach. "You want to be seen now so I gotta tell your baba before you expose me." She smiled at the small flutterings she could feel.

She looked back out the window to see T'Challa himself coming into the courtyard. Older girls saluted him while some of the little ones crowded around him. He stooped to their level, listening to their questions and answering. Mia, a four year old who was one of his favorite children whispered into his ear. T'Challa glanced up at Nereyda and she waved from her place in the window. He quickly separated himself from the girls to enter the building and Nereyda watched him until she couldn't see him anymore.

She heard him enter the room and turned to face him. Just like that first time in the market place, she was struck at how handsome he was. He was an imposing presence that still took her breath away. She couldn't believe Bast had blessed her to get to love this man.

T'Challa crossed the room, and cupped her cheeks. "Sithandwa sam, what is the matter?" Nereyda had begun crying without realizing. Blasted pregnancy hormones.

"I'm pregnant."

She hadn't meant to blurt it out to him but she was tired of keeping it from him. He stood in shock, slack jawed and confused. "You are pregnant?"

"Yes, seems as if my birth control is no match for the Black Panther." T'Challa smirked before gathering her into his arms. Nereyda pressed her face into the crook of neck, allowing his scent to wash over her and calm her.

"You're having my baby," he murmured. She nodded, squeezing him closer. He pulled back after a few moments. "I've been waiting for the right time to do this."

He dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring. The newly dried tears flowed again and she covered her face. "Nereyda, will—"

"No wait. I just need a moment." She looked around the room, analyzing the way her life had turned out, the man at her feet, the fact that she was carrying his baby. She couldn't believe that this was her life.

"You can not possibly say no when you will be having my son," T'Challa joked.

"No, I just want to remember this moment for a while. I want to remember my life in this moment and how happy I am right now." They were there for a while. "Okay I'm ready."

T'Challa looked deep into her eyes. "Nereyda, my adored one, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"Yes." He slipped the ring on her finger before standing and drawing her in for a long kiss.

She stood there in his arms, basking in his scent and his warmth. She was happy, T'Challa made her happy, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life just being his.

#unsweetimagine #black panther #t'challa x black!oc #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa imagine #t'challa x poc

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theunsweetenedtruth · 30 days

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All This Love (6)

Summary: The coronation ball where it might be T'Challa's chance. Or someone else may catch Nereyda's attention

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 3,476 words Warnings: None A/N: Originally written in 2018. Translations: "Intliziyo yam ingewe": "My heart is yours"

Nereyda walked into the ball, tucking a free strand of hair behind her ear nervously. There were several moments through getting dressed that she second guessed going but, as promised, Nina continued to dress her as if she were a baby doll. She went as far as to shave Nereyda's legs because "you never know who might want to feel up on you." Nereyda had no intention of letting anyone "feel up on her".

As she looked around, she saw Erik standing with a woman she didn't recognize and...Nakia. Before she could turn in the opposite direction, Erik spotted her and called out her name. She had no choice but to go over.

"Hey Nereyda," he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and Nereyda looked at him wildly. That was not how they were; at best, Erik would give her a grunt before launching into speech, usually a rant about Nina and her antics. Affection outside of sex wasn't in his nature.

He turned to Nakia and the other woman. "You guys haven't officially met. Nakia, this is Nereyda. Rey, this is Nakia and her partner, Ife." Nereyda's mind went blank and then exploded as she processed what he had just said. Nakia had a partner. Who was at the ball with her. Who was a woman. And not T'Challa.

Nakia enveloped her in her arms, squeezing tightly. "It's so nice to meet you! I've been dying to meet the woman who has T'Challa in his feelings," she joked. Nereyda let out a nervous laugh. What was even happening?

Before she could contemplate further, a hush fell over the room. Nereyda turned to the front of the room as drummers led the way into the ballroom, Ramonda and Shuri behind them. Then there was another row of dancers and drummers before King T'Challa walked in.

He looked amazing. Nereyda felt between her legs jump at his appearance. He wore all white with gold detailing and...were those sparkles in his hair? She absently noticed their outfits complimented each others'. She wondered how it looked to others, T'Challa's dora standing with his cousin, his ex fiancé, and her lover.

T'Challa took a quick glance around the room before his eyes landed on her. They softened before trailing down her body in the dress he'd bought for her. When they locked eyes again, there was heat in his eyes that scorched through Nereyda and made it hard for her to breathe. They only broke eye contact when Shuri, now standing at T'Challa's right, elbowed him. He looked at her annoyed while Nereyda did her best to catch her breath. It was a mistake for her to come. If he had this affect on her from across the room, then she would hate to see what happened when they found time to speak alone. Before she could make her way to the exit though, a tinkling sound rung out in the room

His memory didn't do her justice. She looked unbelievable in his dress, the see through parts showing glimpses of brown skin he knew would be warm to his touch. His palms itched with the need to have her back in his arms. The way she was looking at him didn't help either; she was biting her lip, a glazed look in her eyes that roamed his body appreciatively. His dick twitched in his pants. She had to know what she was doing to him. When their eyes met, T'Challa couldn't help the heat he knew was in his gaze. He wanted her in the wickedest way, felt like the three months without her had been an eternity. She belong to, under, with him. He was determined she would be back in her place—

A sharp nudge to his side took him from his thoughts. He turned to Shuri annoyance on his face.

"Stop making eyes with your girl and get on with it," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. T'Challa looked around at everyone mingling. The crowd was a mixture of elders and nobility, all here to celebrate him. There were a few press members there to cover the ball, snapping pictures periodically of him, of Shuri, of other attendees. It had only been seconds of his heated interaction with Nereyda. He snuck another glance at her. She looked ready to bolt and he couldn't have that. T'Challa made his way to the dais. Someone tapped a knife against a water glass and everyone quieted.

T'Challa launched into a speech thanking everyone for their presence at what was his official coronation ball. As he spoke, enthralling the audience with his voice, Nereyda lamented at the changes he'd gone through in the time of their separation. He was more confident and charisma oozed out of him. It was hard to tear her eyes away from him. This was a king, someone who went after what he wanted; it was hard to ignore that he counted her among his possessions.

Periodically, he would meet her eyes again before sliding along to the rest of the crowd. It sent shivers up her spice to have his dark gaze on her. He was the Black Panther and she felt like his prey. Nereyda didn't mind.

He launched into his announcement; The Wakandan Outreach Center in Oakland, California. Nereyda pressed a hand to her chest. The idea for the outreach center was something she'd spoken about with T'Challa. It was a dream he and Erik had that she fully supported. Nereyda had held him while he vented his frustrations when he would present it in council meetings, only to have it fail. She felt an overwhelming pride come over her. He'd done it.

"I'm glad to announce that Nakia," he invited her up, "will be heading the center, with assistance from Princess Shuri and Prince N'Jadaka." The four of them on stage presented a strong force. "This is the time for Wakanda to lend out knowledge and resources to the rest of the world. We see and know of the injustices faced in other parts of the world by people who look like us. It is time to empower them in a way their own governments won't. It's time to bring the lost ones home."

Thunderous applause followed his ending and tears welled in Nereyed's eyes. She was so proud of him. He was the king he'd always wanted to be, the man she knew he would become.

After his speech, dinner was served and T'Challa was whisked away to the head table by Ramonda. There were other elders waiting to congratulate him, acting as if they had not been barriers to his success. He listened with half an ear as he watched Erik escort Nereyda to her seat. She would be sitting with Nakia and Ife. He knew they would watch out for her and keep her away from any vultures.

Dinner was immaculate, ofada ride with goat sauce and sweet plantain, injera with dora, and doorway, all T'Challa's favorites. From the head table, he tried to pay attention to what was going on around him but his eyes were constantly drawn to Nereyda. He could barely taste his food, waiting for the moment to mix and mingle.

"T'Challa, you will open the dancing with Nakia." Ramonda's voice sounded next to him. He titled his head at her. Ramonda, like everyone else, knew he and Nakia had ended things. Nakia had brought Ife as her date; T'Challa knew from being around them that their affectionate nature would dispel any reconciliation rumors. Why was Ramonda still holding out hope?

"What reason would I have for starting the ball with Nakia?" He knew she was scheming.

She leaned into him. "I see what is going on here. I saw your dora. You are making a mistake, my son. I promise that the council will not bend to your will about making her your queen."

T'Challa thought about her words. He knew Ramonda was trying to protect him but he wasn't the twelve year old she met when she married his father. He could handle himself against the council. Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to the Queen Mother. Ramonda couldn't refuse him without making a scene. She didn't have anything to worry about. There was a possibility that Nereyda didn't even want him anymore.

He led Ramonda to the dance floor, the music starting up before they started into a waltz. Paparazzi snapped pictures around them. "I know what I'm doing when it comes to Nereyda." Which wasn't completely true but Ramonda didn't need to know that. "I'm asking as your son to trust me. And stop meddling." He was firm with his words. Ramonda smiled ruefully before she nodded. She pressed a hand to his cheek. "Your father would be so proud of the man you've become." T'Challa pressed a kiss to her cheek and escorted her back to her seat.

Next, Nakia met him halfway to the dance floor and they moved in synchronized moves of people who had danced together many times. It was easy and familiar to dance with Nakia; she'd been his best friend before parental scheming forced them together. No matter what, they would have friendship and T'Challa wanted this dance to show that.

Soon, other couples joined them. Over Nakia's shoulder, he saw Erik dancing with Nereyda. T'Challa breathed a sigh of relief. She was still there and that part of the night was going well. Erik dancing with Nereyda, as his second, showed that he accepted her. Entertainment analysts would be on TV tomorrow morning picking through the unspoken words from the night but T'Challa's plan was just getting started.

Ife came to cut in on his dance and T'Challa parted from Nakia with a kiss on the cheek. Before he could make his way to Erik and Nereyda, his path was blocked.

"Surely you have a dance for sister before you spend the evening groveling?" Shuri joked. He twirled his little sister around before answering.

"My sister lives to torture me. This is just one of your ways to make sure I don't get my way." She stepped on his foot in retaliation. He maneuvered Shuri to keep Nereyda within his sight and saw that she was now dancing with...

No. Not M'Baku.

Nereyda was shocked that this man wanted to dance with her. When he cut in on her dance with Erik, she noticed Erik stiffen and she was curious about why his presence evoked that response from Erik. She accepted his offer for a dance.

M'Baku—she learned after he introduced himself and asking for her name in return—was big. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, thick thighs that were encased in a brown tux. He had a fur iborun across his shoulder and chest that emphasized this his fit chest and waist. A brick wall, but when he grinned at her with his gap teeth, she realized he was big teddy bear more than anything.

"How are you enjoying the ball this evening?" He asked politely.

"It's nice. Everything is so beautiful. I'm actually really self conscious. Everyone is looking at me." It was true. Despite Erik, Nakia, and Ife distracting her, it was hard to ignore the eyes burning holes in the side of her head.

M'Baku threw his head back in laughter, further drawing the attention of those around them. Nereyda took a step back in offense before he soothed her, running a hand down her back and pulled her back into his arms. "You are the most beautiful woman in here. If anything, they are staring at you with envy." His voice was soft, his eyes intense on hers and Nereyda ducked her head at his words. Her cheeks were hot.

It was different to being the center of attention of a man like M'Baku. He was suave in a different way to T'Challa, that was no less intense. He wasn't being shy about his interest for her and his public attention was throwing Nereyda for a loop. For the first time in a long time, she felt butterflies at being in another man's arms.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I have been watching you since you came in, Nereyda. You have intrigued me with just a glance. I would love the opportunity to spend more time with you."

Nereyda was confused. "Do you know who I am?"

M'Baku twirled her around. "No. And it doesn't matter to me. We will get to know each other as time comes."

Nereyda took her time before answering. "You should know now that I'm a dora." She waited tensely for his reply.

"I don't care about your past. I would like the chance to be a part of your future."

Nereyda shook her head to stop herself from swooning. "No, you don't understand. I was T'Challa's—"

A clearing of a throat separated them.

King T'Challa was standing next to them. Nereyda took in his body language; it clear he was holding himself back from ripping her out of M'Baku's arms. He was not happy.

T'Challa watched M'Baku lean in to whisper into Nereyda's ear and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes were locked on the pair, on the man dancing with his woman, holding his woman. T'Challa crossed the room, leaving Shuri behind on the dance floor. He wouldn't allow M'Baku to steal his opportunity.

When he reached them, they hadn't realized he was there with how wrapped in the conversation they were. He cleared his throat. He saw the stiffening of Nereyda's spine before she and M'Baku raised their heads in unison.

"May I cut in?" he asked trying to keep his voice even. M'Baku looked between them before looking to Nereyda for permission. She nodded and M'Baku walked away. Good. T'Challa wasn't above playing the king card to get time with Nereyda. He said nothing as he swept Nereyda into his arms.

Their first interaction after their last encounter was awkward. The silence loomed between them, not in the comfortable peace that they usually could exist in, but a loud, unmovable force that threatened to choke him.

"I'm glad you came," he started softly. "You look more beautiful than I could have imagined." Nereyda didn't answer and avoided his eyes. T'Challa glanced around and noticed the frequent glances in their direction. "Could we please go somewhere to be alone?"

She finally made eye contact with him, took a deep breath and nodded. T'Challa took a deep breath too. He hoped she would hear what he had to say.

He led her from the ballroom to a parlor room down the hall. The walk was silent but he soldiered on. If after she heard what he had to say she wanted nothing to do with him, he would leave her alone. As they entered, Nereyda sat on the loveseat and T'Challa gingerly sat next to her.

"I didn't know you knew M'Baku." That was not how he wanted to start.

Nereyda's eyes narrowed in anger. "I don't know him. This is my first time meeting him. What? You think I went jumping to the next man with a little bit of power after you?"

T'Challa scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, no of course not. I'm sorry. I don't think that at all." He glanced at her face but her face was still annoyed. He sighed; she wasn't gonna make it easy for him at all. Luckily he wasn't above begging.

"Nereyda I am so sorry. The engagement was just a way to get the council to see things my way. I wasn't expecting you to find out about it before I could explain myself. If Nina hadn't—"

"No, T'Challa. It's on you!" She rose to her feet. "I never got to feel like I was anything more than your dora, your whore. You proposed to someone. Why couldn't you have trusted me enough to tell me the reason the council kept turning you down was because of me?!" It was clear she had figured out the reason the outreach center had never come to fruition until now.

T'Challa rose his feet too. "Because you would have left Nereyda! I didn't want to lose you. I still don't want to lose you." He saw tears in her eyes. "I know I wasn't upfront about my feelings for you but I didn't want to get hurt. In the process I didn't realize that I was hurting you, that you even thought I wanted anyone other than you." He stepped closer to her. "Don't you remember, usana, how I called you mine?" He took her in his arms and she melted against him in that way he remembered in his dreams. "You're mine. My adored one. There is no one else above you in my life. I love you." He looked at her deep in her eyes to convey to her the depth of his feelings. She surged up to her tip toes and pressed her lips to his.

Finally, Nereyda's mind said. His lips were warm and soft, just like she remembered and she felt that heady feeling that only being with T'Challa could evoke. He pressed her closer to his body, cupping the back of her neck to angle her face up to his. He licked the seam of her lips asking for entrance, which she granted feverishly. Their tongues tangled together fighting for dominance. He kissed her like he wanted to make love to her, like he used to make love to her, slow and languishing, keeping her steady when she wanted to move faster. Bast, she loved this man.

Soon, he slowed their kiss to small presses of his lips to her hers, resting his forehead against Nereyda's. Their breathing was ragged and she felt sticky between her legs, all just from kissing. She looked at him but his eyes were closed, his hand caressing down her back to the top of her ass and back up. She knew he was just as affected by their kiss, could feel how hard he was against her belly. Just knowing that she still had that impact on him gave her a rush.

She could hear the faint noise from the party still going on. She knew that someone was bound to realize that he was missing. "T'Challa." He seemed to be in a daze, content to just have her in his arms.

"T'Challa," she tried again.

"Hmm?"

"You have to get back to the ball." As much as Nereyda wanted for them to stay in their own bubble, the real world awaited. There was still so much for her and T'Challa to work through before they could move forward.

He opened his eyes finally, searching Nereyda's face, for what she wasn't sure. He pressed another quick peck to her lips. "I really do love you Nereyda."

Nereyda's heart soared again at his words, but she wouldn't allow herself to fall too quickly again. "I know. I love you too. We'll figure it out," she said caressing his cheek. He grabbed her hand pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You have to go back to the ball."

"Only if you come with me."

Nereyda thought about it. "I don't think that's a good idea. I need to get home and you have guests to entertain."

The way he was looking at her made her want to bend to his will, submit herself back to his desires but she held strong. Just as he had changed, so had she. After taking in her body language, T'Challa nodded. He grabbed her hand and they exited the room.

He led her to the front of the palace where the Dora Milaje were posted. There was a car waiting in the front. He escorted her to it before opening the door for her and protecting her head as she ducked to enter. After he shut the door behind her, Nereyda rolled the window down.

"I will call you tomorrow. We'll have dinner," T'Challa said.

"Lunch." She knew what would happen if they had dinner.

T'Challa smirked. He knew it too. "Lunch then."

Nereyda smiled at him. "I love you."

"Intliziyo yam ingewe," he pressed a hand to his chest before ducking to press another lingering kiss to her lips. When he straightened back up, he tapped the hood of the car. The car pulled away.

Nereyda looked out the back window to see him still standing there, hands in his pockets. She stared until she couldn't see him anymore and they were out of the palace gates. Then she leaned her head back against the seat.

They would be fine.

Next Part

#unsweetimagine #black panther #t'challa x black!oc #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa imagine #t'challa x poc

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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On Your Mind (5)

Summary: The aftermath to the end of Nereyda and T'Challa.

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 2,897 Warnings: None A/N: Originally written in 2018

T'Challa sat in the council meeting, not hearing what was going on around him. His mind was on Nereyda; he couldn't understand where things went wrong. Ok. That wasn't true. He knew where things went wrong. But the fact that she wasn't in the palace, home with him, made him feel off. It was like missing a limb. Or his heart.

He perked up when Erik slipped in the double doors and hastened to end the meeting. "I will think about what you have presented here and will give my decision next meeting." The Elders saluted him and began to exit. Ramonda gave him a perplexed look as she left. He ignored her. She played a large role in Nereyda's departure. He wasn't sure what Ramonda had said to her but it didn't matter; Ramonda knew how he felt but it was clear to T'Challa that she was more concerned with what she thought the country should be under T'Challa's ruling, rather than the vision he had for his own rule.

When the doors shut behind the last of the council members and only Erik and him were left, T'Challa spoke. "What's the update?"

Erik took the seat next to him. "She looks okay, decorated the place, got plants and shit." T'Challa's face fell. She was moving on without him, of course she would. Soon, a brave soul would get over the aversion to her former status and she might love again. He wanted that for her but he couldn't imagine not being that person for her. His fists clenched at the thought of another man knowing Nereyda the way he did. Of another man holding her, making love to her, drawing out sighs and moans the way only T'Challa deserved to hear...

"I can tell she's miserable though." Erik's distracted voice broke through his anger.

"What? How?"

Erik held up a finger, typing on his phone. T'Challa grew impatient quickly—surely the reason why Erik was taking his sweet time was to get on his nerves. Finally he looked up from what must have been an intriguing message. "She has bags under her eyes, which means she hasn't been sleeping, her hair's looks like shit," Erik counted on his fingers. "Plus her fine ass friend been telling me what's going on with her. Says she hadn't left the house since you went there that one night."

T'Challa wasn't happy to hear Nereyda wasn't taking care of herself but he was pleased that she hadn't dropped and forgotten him like he'd feared. He frowned.

"I don't want you getting updates from Nina." He was pissed at her; if she would've minded her business, he could've explained what was happening to Nereyda first.

"Chill, T. She felt really bad after I told her what was really happening." Erik wore a Cheshire grin. "Had to do a little comforting if you know what I mean." T'Challa rolled his eyes. He was done with Erik. He rose from the throne and made his way to the door. "Aye. How long am I gonna have to keep doing this?"

T'Challa turning to his cousin slowly. "This is partly your fault N'Jadaka. If it was for yours and Nakia's scheming, I wouldn't be in this mess with Nereyda."

Erik jumped to his feet. "Nah cuz, don't put that shit on me and Nakia. If you would've been honest with your girl from jump, you wouldn't be in this mess."

T'Challa felt the truth of his words. "You're right. It's my own fault I lost the love of my life." He exited the throne room.

"So the plans for the outreach center are a go." Nakia and T'Challa were seated in his office going over the final plans for the outreach center. The first one would open in Oakland, California, an homage to T'Challa's uncle N'Jobu. This was the reason for his sacrifice.

Between him and Erik—and Nakia in her father's ear—T'Challa has been working hard over the years to bring the idea to the council. They had been thwarted at every turn, sometimes by the elders, other times by his own father. The consensus was that there was a possibility T'Challa wouldn't be fit to rule, citing both the presence of his dora in the palace, and his ideas to use Wakandan resources to help blacks all over the world. The council knew they couldn't control Erik; he was not a viable candidate for king and would make a bigger mess than T'Challa ever could. T'Challa received word that an elder's second in command had approached M'Baku about challenging T'Challa for the throne. Luckily, T'Challa and M'Baku has their own arrangement; M'Baku had no interest in being king but rather desired a voice for his people in Wakandan affairs. The council was looking for someone to challenge T'Challa though; he had to move smarter.

Bringing back Nakia to aid in the plan has quieted some of the discord enough that no one challenged him on challenge day, but T'Challa knew the council could make his life difficult if he didn't stay ahead of their schemes. The public proposal sealed the deal and Nereyda moving out—while not a part of his plan at all—helped to convince the council that he was taking his role as king seriously. When it came time to propose the outreach center, T'Challa had Erik, Shuri, Nakia, and Nakia's father at his back. He had secured M'Baku's vote with a seat on the council, another project he'd had to butter the elders up for.

After the presentation of plans for the outreach center, the history of the treatment of black worldwide and the need of the outreach center in Oakland, the council sat quietly. T'Challa could feel Erik shuffling in frustration. Nakia, to his right was unusually still. Shuri looked bored, ready to get back to her lab and begin planning her classes for the center.

"My king, I'm not so sure this is a good idea or the right time. Your father—"

"My father is no longer here. I am the king now." He glared down the room. "Elders, this is a formality. I have the majority votes already secured and I will be moving forward with the outreach center." T'Challa was upset. These people tried to control his life, expecting him to be a puppet to their machinations. "You have sat here in Wakanda, in your homes benefitting off of what it means to live in a truly free nation. America is not the land of the free for anyone who isn't rich, male, and white. We have the resources to change that, provide aid to the descendants of those we watched be stolen from their homes if you cannot see the need for this outreach center and others to come, I will gladly take your resignation as council member and begin looking for your replacements." He looked each council member in the eye, including Ramonda. He would not back down this time.

"Let's take a vote," M'Baku said cheerfully. And that was the end of that.

"T'Challa?" Nakia's voice broke through his thoughts.

"I'm sorry you asked something?" He tried to stay in the moment. It wouldn't do for him to get distracted when everything he's been working towards was within his grasp.

"I asked if it was alright for us to move forward with plans for the ball next week."

T'Challa modded. "Yes that will be fine. I assume you'll be bringing your young man." He tried to sound formal but amusement coated each word and he struggled to hold back a smile.

"My 'young man'? Who are you, my father?" Nakia joked. "Or my supposed betrothed?"

T'Challa waved her off. "I'm sure you'll be happy to be rid of all the duties being queen comes with." Ramonda, in her excitement over the proposal, had handed queen duties to a reluctant Nakia. She would be resuming them with the end of the "engagement".

Nakia shrugged. "It's not that bad but I'll be happy to have my freedom back. And Ife will be happy to have me to herself again."

T'Challa understood. To be a king or queen was to belong to the people, not always to yourself. While Nakia would've made a great queen, she would not have been happy or able to be her true self. He was glad she was able to escape, and as much as he loved her, was glad Nereyda had escaped that same pressure.

As if reading his mind, Nakia asked, "And your dora? How will she take to the queen duties?" Not for the first time, he thought of Nereyda as queen.

She would be...glorious. Giving, understanding, she would probably take up a platform, like other queens, but something with more substance, a problem that most well off Wakandans didn't think about. The people would love her because she would care for them and put their interests first. He was sure of it. But it wasn't a possibility.

"I don't think that will happen at this point. She's moving on with her life and I don't want to be selfish with her anymore." Nakia looked confused. "When I went by her place after the mission, she told me she just wanted to be mine." T'Challa sighed. "I don't want to put her in a place again where she can't be, where she has to be a secret again."

Nakia was thoughtful for a moment. "But who says you have to?" Her face was animated in that way it would be when she was ready for a lecture. "The way you commanded the council about the outreach center, you can do the same with your dora..."

"Nereyda"

"Yes. Nereyda."

T'Challa thought about it. Yes, he could. He realized there was a different weight to being King than being prince. Advocating for the outreach center was his first experience fight the council and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. But would Nereyda even want him after all this time?

"I'm not sure if she still wants to be with me in that way."

"You're the king, the Black Panther. You'll just have to convince her." Nakia's smile was wicked and T'Challa answered with one of his own. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

Nereyda returned to her apartment and huffed out a breath, leaning against the back of the door. After spending over two months in her apartment mourning the loss of her relationship, she decided to get on with her life. She's spent the last week looking into a home to purchase. While she was comfortable in her apartment, it wouldn't do for her goals.

She decided to move forward with her orphanage for young girls. It was something she found passion in, whenever she thought about how different her life could've been had she been given opportunities and education beyond what was offered at the dora House. Being with...him had given her experiences she never thought she'd get. She wanted to teach younger girls to do for themselves. It was okay to want to be taken care of but Nereyda was relishing in an independence shed never experienced. The young girls in her care would know that feeling, and then make their own decisions about men. Or women.

Finding a home to serve her needs was proving to be difficult though. Despite her initial thoughts, real estate agents in the city weren't adverse to working with her. She assumed it was out of pity for her, the ex-lover of the engaged king, but she didn't mind. The agents took a look at the emblem of Bast she was still wearing around her neck and fell over themselves to assist her. Nereyda held back laughter every time; people wouldn't speak to her as the king's dora, but as herself she was equal to them. If her current status worked in her favor, then it wouldn't be the last time she'd throw it in their faces.

She'd spent the day with her chosen agent, a young woman with a kind smile and tight violet curls. They looked at several buildings in her budget, mostly older homes on the edge of the city. They were livable but would need upgrades that Nereyda could take her time doing. She'd gotten into contact with the agency who dealt with newly orphaned children and told them of her plans. They were skeptical but told her she would be allowed to take in a few girls, provided the home she bought was up to standard. Nereyda was determined for this to work.

She still thought about T'Challa, everyday thought about her love for him and how much he had to have loved her. She knew he did love her; there was no way he could have faked that kind of love her showed her. The long nights spent talking, the love making, she put her all into it and he reciprocated with a passion she knew she never wanted to experience with anyone else. She missed him fiercely, felt a constant ache in her chest she tried to work through from being away from him. She wouldn't go back and live life as his mistress though. He would marry Nakia, have children with her. Nereyda didn't want to watch him experience things with Nakia while still calling Nereyda his and her never have those experiences with him. Erik visiting her all those weeks ago made her reevaluate. She wasn't angry at T'Challa, just sad he didn't believe in their love enough to try.

But she was determined to not play second fiddle in his life. Nereyda pushed off the door and went to her bedroom, stripping to her underwear as she went.

"AHHHH!" she screamed out at the appearance of a figure leaning against the headboard on her bed.

"Bitch what's the screaming for?" Nina sat nonchalantly filing her nails as if she hadn't nearly given Nereyda a heart attack.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment? How did you get in here?"

Nina gave her a look. "Now don't ask silly questions." She gestured to a huge box Nereyda hadn't noticed at the end of bed. "I come bearing gifts."

Curiously, she made her way to the bed and the pretty matte black box with a silver satin bow on top. Lifting the lid, she saw the most gorgeous gold dress. Nereyda's heart beat faster. She knew only one person who would get her something like this and it wasn't Nina. She fingered the see through material reverently before pulling it from the box and holding it against her body.

Nina let out a low whistle. "Damn. I didn't know what was in it or else I would've kept the shit," she joked. Nereyda ignored her and looked in the box. There were gold strappy heels and a card. She laid the dress to the side, reaching for the note. Her hands trembled and she felt weak. She just acknowledged that she loved the man still and now Bast sent her this. The message on the heavy card stock was short:

Tonight, 8pm. Please.

There was no signature but Nereyda's suspicions were confirmed; it was T'Challa's handwriting. Tonight..."Isn't tonight the engagement ball?"

Nina looked up from her phone. "Engagement ball? Girl no. T'Challa and Nakia aren't engaged anymore. You must be living under a rock. It's all anyone can talk about."

Nereyda felt hope swell in her chest, and her body get hot. "Nina, please don't play games."

"I swear. It's not an engagement ball. It's a coronation ball. T'Challa never had one." Nereyda had avoided all news about the ball, expecting it to be a celebration for the happy couple. Things were beginning to make sense. How long had T'Challa and Nakia been broken up? Was that the reason why everyone was being so nice to her? She remembered a vague comment from her landlord about needing a thirty day notice before breaking her lease. Did everyone think T'Challa ended things because of her? Did he end things because of her? Looking at the note still in her grasp and the dress on her bed, Nereyda thought it was a possibility.

But she still had questions. "Where did you get this? When did you see T'Challa?" Nina looked guilty.

"I've been talking to Erik. He's the one who asked me to bring it. I honestly didn't know what was in it."

Nereyda believed her but she wasn't sure about meeting T'Challa at the ball. "I don't know Nina. I don't think I can go. I am just getting back to myself."

Nina rose from the bed and pulled Nereyda into a hug. Nereyda sunk into the larger woman's embrace, tears prickling her eyes. Nina pulled away after a few moments and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Bitch you're going to the ball." She rose a hand at the beginnings of Nereyda's protests. "Even if it's just to hear what he has to say. He owes you an explanation. You should show him what he's been missing while you get it."

Nereyda looked at her suspiciously. "What do you know?" She asked the other dora.

Nina presses her lips together. "I know that if you don't start getting dressed I'm gonna do it for you." She flipped back on the bed, conversation over.

Next Part

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

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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What You Won't Do (4)

Summary: Nereyda comes to a decision about her future with T'Challa. Or rather, a decision is made for her.

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 1,979 words Warnings: Use of the N-word A/N: Originally written in 2018

Nereyda woke up abruptly to T'Challa's head between her legs, already coming from his ministrations. Her loud gasp in the dark room alerted him that she was awake, and he continued to leave long kisses on her clit, even as she shook through her wake up call.

"Good morning," he said nonchalantly, as he pressed kisses up her body, between her breasts, to her lips, twining his tongue with hers. She could taste herself in his kisses and she arched her back to get closer to him. Lining himself up, he sunk deep into her with one thrust. His eyes glowed in the dark and Nereyda felt as if she was spinning, lost in them.

Good morning indeed.

When he left two hours later, pressing another kiss to her lips and a dip in his walk, the sun was just rising, bathing the room in a golden light. The bed felt colder without him, the room larger without him, but Nereyda knew that he had a responsibility to Wakanda. It wouldn't do to be late to his first meeting as king. Nereyda wanted badly for him to stay with her all day. She needed more of his reassurances, felt a hollowness inside that only T'Challa could fill.

The ringing of her kimoyo beads from the nightstand brought her out of her musings. She wrapped the sheets tighter around her naked body before answering.

"Sister Nina what do you want?" Nereyda had a smile at a call from her favorite fellow dora. Nina had a bright personality and thick curves that drew men to her. She, along with Mother Folami, encouraged Nereyda to give T'Challa a chance.

"Damn bitch you bounced to that next dick fast as hell!" Nina cackled into the phone. "You're still in bed reminiscing on how good it was?" Nereyda could see that she was in the middle of the market and she hoped that people weren't eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Eh! What are you talking about? I am still in the palace."

Nina looked at her confused before muttering a "hold on." There was a lot of shuffling on Nina's end while Nereyda flopped on to her back in frustration. When the picture cleared again, Nina had left the outdoor market area and was walking on the road to Mother Folami's house.

"Okay girl. What do you mean you are still at the palace? You ARE packing your things right?" Nina raised an eyebrow at her friend and Nereyda couldn't meet her eyes.

"Um. I was but T'Challa came by last night and we're all good." Nereyda thought for a second. "At least he told me we're good."

Nina clucked her tongue. "Sister. Do not be foolish. He is saying that to keep you in his bed but his actions say something else!"

"What do you mean?" Nereyda say up when Nina hesitated. Nina never bit her tongue or held back. "Spit it out. If you know something or if I'm out here looking a fool, you have to tell me."

Nina sighed. "When I was in the market, I saw T'Challa...with Nakia." Nereyda' stomach dropped, her face going gray, prompting Nina to continue. "He proposed to her and she said yes. Everyone was talking about our King and his queen. I just don't want you to be hurt even more."

Nereyda closed her eyes against the truth of Nina's words and a tear fell down her cheek. She wasalready hurt; she'd expected at the very least he'd have the decency not to lie.

"You're right, Nina. It's time for me to go."

Nereyda was surprised that she was able to find an apartment that same day in the outskirts of the city. She didn't know whether to be shocked or resigned that T'Challa didn't come after her. She heard that he'd left Wakanda on a mission, one that he brought Nakia on. There were no more tears left to cry at that point.

Part of her was upset at how easily she gave up; this was the man she loved, not a random. But she'd done a lot of things in the name of love over the years. She wanted T'Challa to come after her again like he had when they first met, desire her to the point where he lost himself in her. Nereyda wanted to be shown off, not the secret she was to Wakanda, T'Challa's shame is what people called her. She wanted to be T'Challa's glory, a proud partner by his side. She resigned herself to it never happening.

Nereyda lay on a second hand couch in her new apartment, her only piece of furniture,when a knock sounded in the apartment. She sat up, her heart in her throat; she knew who it was. It was as if the three days away from the palace had strengthened her ties to T'Challa, instead of weakening them like she'd hoped. She walked on unsteady legs to the door and after fumbling with the lock, swung it open to see him standing there, sans Dora Milaje. He swept past her into her open, leaving Nereyda to close the door behind him.

"I thought I made it clear where I stood with you." The anger in his tone brought her frustration bubbling to the surface. There was a heavy attraction in the air he brought with him that she used to spurn her anger.

"Hello to you too, your majesty," Nereyda spat. "I assumed our agreement was dissolved in the wake of your pending nuptials."

He paused and a steel mask slid over his face. "Yeah I know about that. How did you think I wouldn't find out? You tell me I'm yours in the night and then propose to your ex the next day. What am I supposed to–"

"You are mine," he growled out, reaching for her. Nereyda danced out of his way, around the couch.

"No. I'm done. I can't keep doing this."

"You have to understand, usana–"

"I don't have to understand anything. You proposed to her. She's to be your queen." Angry tears rolled down her cheeks and she brushed them away. "All of I've wanted to ever be was yours. Not your queen, not your dora, just yours. All I've been was your dirty secret. I can't keep doing this to myself." She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Baby...I..." T'Challa reached out for her before pulling back, his hand into a fist.

She lowered her eyes at the look on his face. The mask was gone and in its place was a look of anguish. Nereyda knew his intention was never to hurt her. Maybe to have his cake and eat it too, but never to hurt her. But he did. And now he knew it.

She heard his footsteps and braced herself to be in his embrace. Instead, she heard her front door open and shut. Nereyda collapsed on the couch. Turns out she had a lot more tears left.

Two weeks later, the apartment had come together and had become home for Nereyda. She'd added plants to her outside balcony that she spent time watering and caring for, her own babies to put her energy into. Nina was currently "dating" a furniture salesman and was able to get her a great deal to furnish her place so that she wasn't using all her savings.

A few days after the last time she saw T'Challa, the rest of her things arrived from the palace. Or rather the things she'd purposely left behind. In the beautiful trunk she'd found the satin robe and the midnight blue nightie he'd bought her during their "courting". She saw some of the jewelry and clothes he'd bought her over the years. Pulling out the last courting gift, she'd looked at the gold face of Bast. She'd fastened the necklace around her neck.

Nereyda was cleaning up for the night when there was a knock on the door. She wasn't expecting anyone–she'd given up on the idea of T'Challa coming again and Nina had called earlier to say she had plans–so she peered through the peephole first.

She swung open the door curious as to why Prince N'Jadaka was standing at her door. He wordlessly held up a bag full of green and Nereyda promptly stepped aside to let him in.

She and Erik had a weird relationship. He was the only one of the royal family to outright acknowledge Nereyda's existence, though he never gave her the impression that he liked her. He would grudgingly keep her updated on T'Challa's whereabouts if T'Challa was on a long mission or he would stop by her rooms to talk if something really pissed him off, but for the most part he kept out of her way. Sometimes Nereyda got the impression that he thought T'Challa being with her was a bad idea but as the Golden Jaguar to T'Challa's Black Panther, Nereyda trusted him to always have T'Challa's back. Even if it meant getting on her nerves to do it.

"I'm not coming back to the palace," Nerreyda expelled smoke into the air. They were outside on her balcony, the twinkling lights from Birnin Zana casting shadows on her face. She passed the blunt to Erik. His face was his usual nonchalance, though she could see his eyes moving to take note of her new personal effects.

"Ain't nobody come here to make you come back." He took a hit. "I'm surprised you left is all. Thought that nigga had you so dickmatized you would've been hopping on one foot and barking if he asked."

Nereyda rolled her eyes. Erik was exaggerating. Maybe.

"You ain't shit," she said shoving him in the shoulder. He didn't even have the decency to act as if her little hands did anything to him.

"Nah but seriously," he put the roach out between his fingers. "How you really doing?"

The marijuana had her feeling light but she knew what he meant and every time she smoked she found that her brain stopped filtering. Maybe that was his plan?

"I'm sad." That felt too simple. "I'm hurt. Angry. I don't know how to deal with all these emotions I feel. Sometimes I can't figure out what I feel. I hate that I still love him. Don't know how to stop." She buried her head in her hands, gripping her curls. It felt good to admit she was struggling. Even if it was to someone who she wouldn't necessarily call a friend.

Erik was quiet for too long so she turned to him, only for her to realize he'd lit another blunt. When he noticed her staring, he held it out in askance. Nereyda burst into laughter. It was so typical of Erik; he was terrible with the emotions of others so of course he would suggest smoking her problems away.

She laughed and laughed, her stomach aching until tears rolled her cheeks, only for them turn into real tears. She sobbed into her hands. She couldn't believe she was crying again.

Through her crying, she could hear the inhale and exhale of Erik's breaths. They helped to calm her. Even if he wasn't the most comforting, just having him there made all the difference. When the tears subsided and she felt a measure of calm, Nereyda held her hand out for the rest of the blunt. Erik passed it to her and crossed his arms uncomfortably.

"You know I'd be the last one speaking up for the nigga," he started. "But all I can say is that T'Challa loves you. Like really loves you. Things have a way of working out."

Nereyda laughed sardonically. "I don't know if that's enough anymore."

"If it wasn't enough, then why you still wearing his necklace?"

Nereyda didn't have an answer.

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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Warmth (3)

Summary: T'Challa can't get enough of his dora

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Neyreyda (OC) Word Count: 1,367 words Warnings: Smut A/N: Originally written in 2018.

"Bast," T'Challa groaned out and Nereyda felt a surge of power that could only come from making the future king of Wakanda lose his mind. She had planned this, fantasized about the idea of pleasing her king--because that's what he was when he was like this, hers--on his throne. She'd started off shy, asking him to meet in the throne room at a set time earlier in the day, pressing hot kisses in the empty corridor to his throat, his neck, and finally his lips.

"I want you to come on my face later," she'd whispered into his mouth while palming him through his trousers. Then she'd walked away, leaving him hard and rushing to his next meeting. That's how she wanted him: on edge for their next meeting so she could be the one to ease his mind.

When they met later that evening, she was a few minutes late, knowing that T'Challa would be early, and when she walked in he grabbed her tight, kissing her furiously.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he growled into her mouth, not allowing room for an answer, before dominating her mouth again. She pulled away from him and he tried to follow but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Shhh. I'm in charge tonight," she whispered to him. His eyes darkened and Nereyda knew that she'd have a hard time keeping control over the situation. She took his hand and led him to the throne in the center of the room. T'Challa allowed her to push him back into the seat and his legs parted, his hard dick on display for her. He tried to reach for her to pull her onto his lap but Nereyda danced out of his reach.

"Ah ah ah," she wagged a finger at him. Standing in the center of the semicircle of council chairs, she held his gaze as she untied the silk robe covering her. The moonlight through the windows illuminated her skin and her nipples hardened at T'Challa's gaze. "Like what you see?"

"Always," he responded, his voice thick with need. She smiled at that, preening like a peacock at his attention, makes a show of caressing her body with soft hands, careful to stay just out of his reach until he asked nicely. His dark stare promised that she'll be punished for making him wait and all she can hope is that he'll allow her to finish her fantasy before taking back control.

"Come here," he demanded, holding out a hand. She arched an eyebrow at his tone and a gruff "please" followed.

Nereyda took a step forward, her fingers curling around his, and he jerked her forward to stand between his legs. He pressed kisses over her collarbones before taking a nipple into his mouth. The sucking and biting had her groaning softly and he trailed fingers down to press a finger into her folds. With one hand around her waist, the other between her legs, Nereyda felt herself losing control, and that wouldn't do.

"T'Challa, wait. I wanna suck your dick." Her nipple popped from between his lips and he arched an eyebrow. "Please," she grit out between clenched teeth. All of a sudden, his hands left her, leaving her bereft of his touch but with the ability to think more clearly.

"Then kneel," T'Challa said, feigning for a nonchalance that is clear he doesn't feel. Nereyda followed the order, sinking down onto the cold tile floor between his legs. She mouthed at his clothed erection before undoing his belt and the buttons on his trousers. T'Challa's hands came up to cup her face, brushing his thumb across her lips and she bit it, sucking his thumb into her mouth. She expertly swirled her tongue around the appendage, giving him a preview of what was to come.

He lifted his hips to help her remove his trousers--no underwear as usual--until they fell to his ankles. Nereyda stared hungrily at his dick, reached for it and lowered her mouth over the head.

"Bast," T'Challa groaned out as she hallowed out her cheeks, sinking his cock deeper, then dragging her tongue over the head and flicking the slit. His hand came up to tangle into her curls, not pushing her further but to ground himself. "More. You're torturing me."

Nereyda moaned around him at the slight tug on her hair and T'Challa could feel her mouth open wider and the all compassing warmth as she moved up and down on him. She released him, stroking with both hands. "Wait not yet," she said before licking the vein on the underside of him and engulfing him back inside. He choked with the need to stay quiet but the inability to when she was down there. She stroked him slow, and his head hit the back of the throne. "You're a tease, usana, fuck."

"Let's see how long you can last," Nereyda teased, using one hand to stroke him, and the other to remove his pants, tossing them to the side and spreading his legs further. She used one hand to fondle his balls before swallowing him down. T'Challa's thighs trembled underneath her as she took his cock down her throat. She gagged herself, pulled off to look up at him with tears streaming down her face, only to repeat the process over and over.

It was a mess and the tight warmness of her mouth caused him to lose control. T'Challa watched as he slipped between her plump lips, Nereyda alternating between bobbing up and down on him and choking herself. His hips jerked into her and she moaned around him. Nereyda's head was spinning with the need to please him, his scent on and around her. She knew what she was doing to him but she wouldn't be satisfied until he gave her what she wanted.

"Nereyda," T'Challa growled and she could see the struggle in his eyes not to make her choke on him and come. "Look at me." She peered up at him, eyes dilated, before taking him deeper, deeper, before swallowing--

"Fuck," T'Challa whisper yelled. He yanked her up and she looked at him wide eyed, face a mess, lips swollen. He groaned before pulling her back onto his cock and Nereyda moaned. He began to thrust up into her mouth while bringing her down on him and Nereyda was pleased at his surrender.

"Nereyda," his voice is slurred to her, "look what you are doing to me." She stayed down, continuing to swallow around his cock and she could tell he was going to come soon, the heaviness of his breathing and the consistent flurries of curses in all the languages he knew her indication. He tugged her up before titling her head back and Nereyda stuck her tongue out. T'Challa rubbed the head of his dick against her cheeks, lips, and tongue.

"Look at me," he ordered, working his fist over his swelled cock. She met his gaze head on, eyes hungry, and he came with a long drawn out moan. His cock put out streams of come on her tongue, her lips, down to her chest.

"Fuck," she said, savoring the taste of him while T'Challa panted heavily above her. She leaned her head against his knee as she licked her fingers, the epitome of the cat that got the cream. T'Challa reached for her, lifting her onto his lap, kissing her long and hard. He entwined his tongue with hers, and she knew she could taste the salty tang of himself. He bit at her lip while slipping two fingers into her tight canal.

"I'm going to make you ride me on this throne when I become king," he whispered into her mouth and Nereyda moaned at both what he was doing to her and the thought of riding him on his throne.

"Whatever you want Kumkani," she groaned out as he finger fucked her. They kissed with open mouths and Nereyda came with a tight grip on his neck and hair. As she came down from her high, she couldn't help but wait until when she would be able to fulfill her newest fantasy.

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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tumblrs great. you can have 6,000 followers & only 9 of them are active/real

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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Issa Prompt No. 2 🌸💕 - “Tamed” (Part 3)

Previous installments: (Part 1) (Part 2)

Prompt: “I really enjoyed his role in Burning Sands so something along the lines of him being a senior in college and in a fraternity. At a frat party,he spots the shy girl with the smart mouth he’s been waiting to tame and put in her place!😋🤤😍😂 ”

Warning(s): Exhibition and mild voyeurism, smut, cursing, Dom!Trevante x Short Haired Female!POC, possible grammar errors (duh)

Surprise my loves. As ALWAYS thank you for being on my ass to post, to keep pushing, to take my time, checking on me in general, and above all… your unwavering support. Thank you. I love each and every one of ya’ll. Enjoy - Poetica 🌸💕

It was 9:50 when you got to the library the following morning as requested. You had your coffee in hand and were sipping it as you walked into the back entrance. Cautiously you looked for a good seat. You wore a dark green tank top under your thick knitted black cardigan. Your skirt matched the color scheme you had going on and it was just above your knees. Your underwear and stockings were stuffed in your bookbag. Your feet were sweating in your white Vans. I bet this nigga not even here yet.

His words from last night echoed in your head as you sat down pulling out your laptop sitting in the absolute corner of the library, where no one could see you. “Meet me in the back of the fifth-floor library in the main building at 10 o’clock tomorrow. Wear a skirt. Don’t be late. Don’t wear panties.” Don’t wear panties. Those words made you bite your lip. The morning breeze curling between your legs made you anxious. You instinctively held your skirt down anytime you felt the slightest movement in the air. Your ass was still sore from last night, so you were hellbent on not being late again. Sitting with your back facing the wall you got comfortable. You got a message from Trevante and froze to read it. You looked around scanning the room cautiously. No one was around but one guy on the other side of the room a few tables down snoring with his head back in his chair with his mouth open. Looking at the messages you were even more on edge:

On time huh? Good girl. Chose good seats. DON’T LOOK AROUND. Move to the table in front of you. Sit so you’re facing where you’re sitting right now Leave your bra on the seat before getting up. Do it now.

You frowned confused. You looked up at the seat in front of you with only two chairs instead of four that should have been there. They had to have been deliberately removed. You trembled unhooking your bra, removing it quickly, adjusting yourself as you grabbed your things leaving your white bra on your seat. There were only two seats facing where you were just sitting. And ironically two facing where you were sitting right now. I know he had to of done this bullshit on purpose. Unpacking your bookbag, you pulled out your laptop and spread some papers on the table to not attract any suspicion.

Trevante emerged from the Psychology section and picked up the bra from the seat. He smelled it then winked at you while he put it in the inner pocket of his varsity jacket. You stared at him embarrassed and crossed your legs. He casually took a seat where you were once sitting. Facing you, he placed an autobiography of Malcolm X on his table and nodded at you in silent greeting. That sly grin across his face. He mouthed for you to spread your legs. You looked at him like he was crazy to which he returned the same look and prepared to gather his things to leave. You tapped the table signaling for him to stop. Tre had very little time for games.

You spread your legs and cautiously looked around in the process shyly. He gestured with his fingers for you to raise your skirt higher for him to see. You hesitated before slouching a little in your seat and lifted your skirt higher rubbing your clit in the process with the same hand. You started typing on your laptop:

I fuckin’ hate you.

He glanced down at his phone and hid it in his open book to make it seem as though he was reading. He looked up at you then back at his phone.

Good. But look at you, you’re a natural. Rubbing your clit and I ain’t even ask you yet. Showtime College Girl. Make that pussy cum for me. Your whole body started to get warm.

And if I don’t? What if I just tease you and leave? Or what if I just work on our assignment instead?

You could feel his eyes running up your inner thighs. You licked your lips before pursing them looking up at him nervously.

Then I’ll leave. And you’ll be here all alone with no one to tell you when security is coming. You wouldn’t wanna get caught playing with that pretty pussy like this would you?

He was wearing grey sweatpants and stroking is bulge through the material. You slowly started fingering yourself with one finger using your juices to rub your clit. He watched you lustfully from across the room.

Okay. Just ... let’s get this over with.

You closed your eyes for a moment enjoying how good it felt. Doing something you’d typically do in the shower out in the quietest place you know in front of the last person you would have expected to in school. You opened your eyes to notice you were breathing heavy and had two fingers buried deep in your juices. Tre was smiling at you now. Jerking off slowly under his table. The site of something you wanted so badly just a seat away from you was driving you crazy and you knew he felt the same. Your nipples were perking up and you took the time to pinch them teasingly. You knew he’d like that. He nodded approvingly.

Taste yourself. Tell me how you taste.

You took your wet, creamy fingers out of your nectar licking them at first then sucking them before replying.

Good. Like the feeling you get after coming home from a long day of bullshit to your favorite meal ready and waiting for you.

He hummed nodding approvingly at the choice of words. Before he could finish replying, you beat him to it.

Can I be your favorite meal Tre? I honestly don’t think you can keep the two separate. The school and this. The way you’re stroking yourself. Watching me. Watching you. I don’t think you’ll be able to contain yourself.

Trevante laughed, grinning real big before looking up at you again. Slowing down his stroke. “Look at me.” He mouthed. You watched his sweats move slowly up and down from under his table as he sat back getting comfortable. You slowed down rubbing your clit in circles holding in your moans. “I fuckin’ hate you.” You mouthed. The words seemed to turn him on more. “Faster.” He mouthed back. It was quiet enough for you to hear how wet you were. You got a shiver feeling yourself on the brink of orgasming. You rubbed fast. Trying so hard to keep your eyes on him. “Don’t fuckin’ cum.” You tilted your head back lost in pleasure seconds away from making a puddle of yourself on the hard plastic library seat when you saw him starting to type again.

Grab your stuff. Philosophy section. Now.

By the time you looked up from your laptop he was already getting up. I know he not fuckin’ serious! You frantically gathered your things, steadied your breathing, and adjusted your skirt before making your way to the meet spot. You walked a few sections down and made a left at philosophy. You slowly looked to see which of the aisles he was in. Trevante grabbed your hand and quickly covered your mouth before you could make a sound. Made you sit in one of the missing seats from the tables that he managed to put in the aisles.

The back of the chair was facing the bookshelf that way he could still see if anyone was coming between the bookshelves. Standing in front of you you were slightly eye level with his aching bulge. With one hand on the shelves, Tre used the other caressing the side of your face making you look up at him. It was so quiet all you could hear was the buzzing of the florescent lights and how heavy you were both breathing. “I can keep school and this separate College Girl.” He rubbed your chin with his thumb before slipping it in your mouth sliding it in and out letting out a soft groan. “Can you?” You nodded while he pulled out his hard, thick, veiny dick.

You did your best not to react and give him the satisfaction. Couldn’t believe all of that was inside you hours ago. He began stroking himself inches away from your face. Still sliding his thumb in and out of your mouth. You sucked his thumb. Looking up at him then down at his perfect head, letting out a quiet groan impatiently. This is not fuckin’ happening right now. What the fuck am I doing? You nodded yes to his open-ended question. “Oh you can keep it separate huh? You sure?”

You nodded again.

“Open nice and wide for me.”

He slid his thumb out and slowly filled your mouth. He bit his bottom lip closing his eyes as the feeling of your soft lips around his shaft gave him chills. Caressing the back of your head, you instinctively started playing with yourself again.

“You’re a good girl when you don’t got a fuckin attitude.” He said cockily smiling down at you. You rolled your eyes as hard as you could. He guided your head fucking your throat at a slow even pace. “But I love fuckin’ that smart ass attitude right outta you.”

The way he spoke to you made you quiver. You could listen to that voice in your sleep. Wanted to feel him inside you again. The heat of his pelvis pressing into you. You moaned quietly while he grabbed your hair. “Fuck college girl, all that running your mouth done trained your throat real good huh?” You were so turned on you couldn’t stop the puddle forming on the seat, dripping down the back of your fingers, soaking the carpet below you. Trevante noticed you shaking and squeezing your thighs tight together followed by your soaked wet hand and watery eyes. “Oh shit, college girl’s a squirter huh? Kneel on the chair face the books.”

“But it’s soaked now!” You argued quietly.

“You made that mess now you gon’ drown in it.”

“If I slip and fall off I’m—” There was no time to rebuttal. He was sucking and kissing on your neck. Your chest was tight now. Teasing your nipples with his free hand under your shirt, he slid on a condom. You looked around to see if anyone was coming. He placed his hand on the small of your back and grabbed your shoulder while he took his time fitting himself inside. You moaned then quickly caught yourself. He dug in your bag and grabbed your underwear shoving them in your mouth then covering it with his hand again.

“We’re in a library college girl remember that.”

He was torturing you now. Slow, long, hard strokes that made you shake. You couldn’t stop trembling. You felt your skirt moving back and forth with every thrust. The feeling of his strong hand on your body made you hot. In your ear each stroke. Pushing you. Teasing you. “You gotta stay nice and fuckin’ quiet. Last thing you want is someone to see you, the good little college girl with the 4.0 gettin’ bent over fucked like the good girl you pretend to be.” You could feel yourself about to cum again. You started throwing it back against him, which only signaled him to pound you harder. You were digging your nails into his arm on your shoulder now, squeezing your eyes closed.

“But don’t you worry.” Every thrust you squirted all over the chair and floor. He could hear your muffled screams and curses and groaned in your ear. Kissing your cheek. “I’m gonna work this tight little pussy ‘till I’m all you can think about. Keep throwing that ass back baby. Don’t make it easy for me. Yeah, just like that. You can hate me all you want. I almost want you to. I want you to hate how good I make you feel.” You squirmed to pull away but he pulled you back in. “How I let you let out this side of you. Look at you. Y/N, you’re dripping all over yourself. Spilling all over yourself like I love to see you. Hm?” He gave you a few more strokes before he slid out of you. You whined. Wait no no keep going. Keeping one hand on your mouth, he grabbed a towel out of his book bag and dried himself off before taking the time to dry you off. He let you finally look at him and speak. He could see you were pissed and looked into you with a satisfied face.

“Next time, don’t stop. I’ma remember this.” You cursed, putting your underwear and stockings back on and picking up your belongings. "You know what? You always know exactly how to get on my—."

“We have an assignment to do remember?” He laughed. “Or did I fuck the thoughts of that outta you too?

You rolled your eyes with your arms folded. “Right, like you actually care about it. And when are we gonna get started on that exactly?

“C’mon.” He adjusted his waistband and grabbed his book bag before guiding you out the back of the library into the parking lot. He kept you close to him as he open the door and cool air blew your skirt up a little.

“Tre where are you taking me now?” You growled holding your skirt down and shivering.

“I’m not parked far. C’mon before you freeze ya ass off.”

You approached his grey Chevy truck parked near the entrance. He didn’t need it raised. He was already tall which you appreciated with your smaller frame. He helped you in and to your surprise it wasn’t filled with half empty water bottles, condom wrappers, and other girls’ underwear. You put on your seat belt and started putting on your stockings when he got in on the driver side. He took the long way to the senior dorm rooms and played Don Toliver’s “Life of a DON” album all the way there. You asked him to turn up the heat and he did. He let you wear his varsity jacket the rest of the ride and leaned you on his shoulder. You reluctantly accepted. Wrapped your arms around his, you closed your eyes. His cologne haunted your senses again. A familiar friend.

“This don’t mean we cool or nothin’” you muttered.

He replied calmly not taking his eyes off the road. “Mhmm just a ride.”

It was gray and cloudy outside. The fall leaves were covering the floor now and the campus was a little emptier in the mornings. You loved mornings like this. Rain started to tap against the windshield when you guys finally pulled into a upperclassmen parking area. Using his jacket as coverage, you ran into the lobby as he walked behind you. The corridors were very similar to the underclassmen dorms just much more spacious. His dorm was on the 10th floor and just down the hall from the elevator. He gave you the key and had you walk in front of him while he watched you go to his room. Your legs under your skirt. Your thighs. Your stockings. You walked in to see there actually wasn’t clothes on the floor and a sandalwood candle burning with a hint of chamomile. You knew for damn sure the school didn’t allow candles. But he had taste. You liked that.

“Make yourself comfortable. Take off your shoes too.” He said, sliding his jacket off your shoulders and kicking off his shoes putting them to the side of the entry way. You sat at his desk across from his bed, set your bag down, and started taking out your laptop and class notes. “You have a roommate?”

“Nah just me.” Tre cracked open a bottle of sweet iced tea from his mini fridge and took a sip. “Was supposed to get one this semester but they dropped out last minute. More space for me. You want one?”

“Yeah actually, thank you.”

He passed you one and started taking off his clothes changing into boxers and a robe with his back to you. Not paying you any mind at all. You looked at his broad shoulders and back muscles. He sat on the edge of his bed and faced you, “Now bout that assignment.”

“Right.” You crossed your legs and handed him your outline. “I was thinking of doing a PowerPoint and a few graphs. I started working on it a little but here’s what I have.”

He nodded quietly but approvingly, reading everything over. “And what visuals were you thinking of adding?”

“Actually these are a few but I wanted to get your thoughts on a theme so we can have the right visuals to complement it if that makes sense?”

“Yeah that makes complete sense. Why are you so far? I won’t bite you yet I promise.”

You took another sip of your iced tea and crossed your legs the opposite direction unamused but not looking in his eyes for too long. You took the outline back from him and set it down. “Because, I’m staying on task sir and I’d appreciate if you’d do the same. No distractions. We need to really put in some work here. She’s going to want us to check in in a few weeks to see how it’s going.”

He smirked and hummed nodding. There was a pause. He stared at you. Processing. Getting up, he walked over to you sliding his hand over yours on the mousepad and moved it away taking control. “I think we should keep are theme more browns, oranges, and navy blue as an accent color. I emailed you my part of the assignment this morning before meeting in the library. I see you… haven’t opened that email yet. But I’ve attached two pages of statistics we can include as well as 4 cited articles that I’ve summarized and highlighted keep points that I wanted to get your insight on that you… also… haven’t looked at that either. You know cause, we’re classmates who need to work on an assignment and she’s gonna look for out progress in 2 weeks.” You felt his tone change. Fuck he actually did work for the assignment.

“Is that enough work,” he looked you in the eye now. “put in for you? Or do you want more? 'Cause I’m actually waiting on you. Not the other way around.”

You stared back at him before looking away from his intense gaze and sat on the bed. “That’ll do.”

“Mmhm” he said lighting another candle and putting it on his desk. “Like I said, I can keep it separate. And I do actually want us to pass. It’s not all just sex and—”

“I honestly didn’t think you actually cared about pulling your weight on the assignment.” You interrupted. “I shouldn’t have assumed. That’s my bad Tre really.”

He leaned against the desk facing you and slowly closed your laptop. He gestured you towards him with his index finger. You got up and walked over standing in front of him. He carefully slid his thumb down the buttons of your cardigan watching them spring back up as he passed each one. “And when I want to sit next to you, I don’t want attitude or slick talk. C’mere when I ask you to.” He looked up at you on the last sentence. He started kissing your cheek and trailing to your neck. “Please.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered, pulling him in and wrapping your arms around him. “I just thought—” He slowly unbuttoned your cardigan from the bottom up, sliding it off your shoulders and put it on the back of his chair. Your full breasts filled your green tank top well. His hands slid down your back as he pulled you close to him continuing to kiss on you. “You good. I understand.” He breathed you in deep, kissing your ear lobe. He echoed your words. “I’m sorry too.” He knelt in front of you. Tre carefully took off your stockings and put them on his desk chair leaving your underwear on. He kissed your knees and inner thighs. You sighed, shuttering at the feeling of his lips pressing against you. You moaned. He looked up at you. His eyes just peaking out from under your skirt. “Put your leg up on this chair.”

You did so, holding onto his shoulder for balance. His head was completely under your skirt now. He kissed along your inner thighs, your outer thighs, traced your lips through your underwear with his tongue. You took a deep breath and held a little tighter on his shoulder. He traced up and down your pussy. Taking his time kissing and pulling your underwear aside with his teeth. “Hold it to the side for me.” You held them while he planted wet kisses all along your lips front to as far under he can go before licking his way back up. You moaned. His eyes looked at you again as he slid just his index finger inside you. Sliding in and out carefully taking his sweet time. He was savoring it. Watching your pink wet pussy open up for him with every move. It made him rock hard all over again.

“Fuck mmm.” You moaned again letting out a deep breath.

“Focus.” Tre’s hand didn’t stop. “Open your laptop and read the article summary I sent you out loud. I wanna hear it from your mouth. Every word. Face the desk, spread your legs, bend over. Hands stay on the desks or there will be… consequences.”

He paused and stood to reset. He pulled the rolling chair away and sat in it while you bent over in front of him facing your laptop. With his seat lowered he sat perfectly behind you. Sucking on your clit, licking up to just before your ass then back down with the back of his tongue over and over before fingering you again slowly. You moaned louder. You typed in your password and pulled up the email.

“I don’t here words just music.” He smiled a big smile. “I wanna hear you College Girl.”

You steadied your voice and read aloud from the beginning. “Good morning Y/N, attached you’ll find…”

Tre sat back in his chair taking his dick out of his boxers and started stroking himself. Twisting and pushing his finger in and out of you he took that one out and put in his index and middle fingers rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned and struggled to keep your words together but he encouraged you to keep going. You felt your climax starting to build. Your eyes were fluttering and rolling back. You’d read the entire summary and had your head down moaning and cursing. “See that wasn’t so hard was it Y/N?”

“Fuck you.” You managed to get out between moans.

“Mmhmm fuck me huh? Don’t you fuckin’ move.” He stood up hard dick out and grabbed a few towels sets some on the floor and on the bed. He threw a pillow on the floor. “On the floor. Face in the pillow. Ass in the air. Arms behind your back.” You stumbled to the floor and got in position while he roughly tied your arms behind your back with your stockings. He knew they’d come in handy. He gave you a few smacks one the ass before grabbing a handful of your hair and looking in your face. “Fuck me, right college girl?”

You looked into his eyes. His wicked smile made you smile too. You knew he had things in store and you were all in for it. You wanted to push him for a change. You got closer to his face. I close as you could. And flicked your tongue before licking your lips. “Fuck… you… Trevante.” He smiled bigger. Breathing harder. It was almost as if he was elated. He watched your lips as the words spilled out. “Fuck… you Tre… I fucking… hate you.”

And my god… was that music to his ears.

Post Credits: Idk why I said this was a 3-part series there's definitely gonna be more. I have an idea of where I wanna go and how I wanna end. If I have forgotten to put you in the taglist, @ me and let me know you'd like to be added. ALSO, if your username has updated and the old one is on the taglist, please reach out as well. Until the next episode loves. 🌸💕

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @ljstraightnochaser @macfizzle @randomwordprompts @chaneajoyyy@theesotericqueen @aykanna @theunsweetenedtruth @pinkdemolition @brownsugerhippy@unholyxcumbucket @champagnesugamama @amethyst1993 @thehomierobbstark@ajspencer1892 @youcantkillamutant @uzumaki-rebellion @jozigrrl @eclecticblkgirl @slaybellaaa @kaiipeace @sociallyawkward18 @wowmelanin @killmonger-bakari @leahnicole1219 @teheeboo @kayla1051 @spyonace @lildashofmelanin @jxxdxx @doublesidedscoobysnacks @forbeautyandlife @ashleychristina73 @charmesan-cee @lalapalooza718 @destind4greatness @highlifeflylife-2 @raysunshine78 @madamslayyy @purplehairgawdess @19jammmy @yoyolovesbucky @anaiyaflys143

#trevante rhodes #burning sands

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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Erik Stevens is fine as fuck. Pass it on.

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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If you click HERE you’ll find 375 gifs of Trevante Rhodes as he appeared in Mea Culpa Trevante is black, so please cast accordingly. All gifs were made by me and are 268 x 170. You are welcome tmy gifs,o resize these/edit for personal use, but do not redistribute or claim them as your own. Content warning: sex, nudity, and flashing lights.

Happy RP’ing!

#trevante rhodes

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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Punishment Jar

Warning: Smut (+18)

"You know the routine. Go ahead and pick one out of the jar, my love."

Roman reclined comfortably in the coffee-colored loveseat that seamlessly blended with the soft, nude aesthetic of their bedroom. His soft curls were slicked back into a neat ponytail and he sported a clean white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. His gaze, heavy with the lingering effects of the Hennessey, commanded attention effortlessly. With one elbow resting casually on the arm of the seat, he stroked the small tuft of hair under his bottom lip.

Standing before him, the naked woman's bottom lip jutted out slightly, a subtle display of anticipation. Her hands remained clasped behind her back, while her crossed thick thighs betrayed her desire, as if she were attempting to keep her juices from spilling onto their freshly polished wooden floors. She was irresistible.

"Now," Roman's voice growled sternly, causing the woman to jump at the sudden intensity.

Angel whimpered softly, a plethora of emotions coursing through her—excitement, nervousness, arousal, and a hint of fear. With small steps, she made her way toward the dresser on his side of the bed, where the punishment jar lay in wait. Her fingers grazed the cool glass surface as she eyed the many popsicle sticks, each carrying the promise of a potential punishment. Her heart raced as she lifted the lid, prolonging her fate.

"In a minute, I'm going to make sure the punishment lasts as long as it's taking you to pick it out of the jar," Roman warned calmly, his tone carrying a weight that made her flinch.

Quickly, she delved into the jar, shuffling the sticks between her fingers.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe...

Her hand closed around a red popsicle stick, and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she read the black ink etched onto the wood.

Ruined Orgasm.

Confusion flickered across her features. What did that mean?

Roman was the mastermind behind the punishment jar, each stick bearing a consequence of his choosing. Despite her uncertainty, Angel found herself drawn to the thrill of anticipation, sometimes even deliberately misbehaving for the promise of consequence.

"Now bring it to me," Roman demanded, and she obeyed, each step bringing her closer to what lay ahead.

With a trembling hand, she passed him the stick, their eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of desire and submission. He accepted it, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he contemplated how to wield his power over her tonight.

"Go lay on the bed, baby," Roman's voice softened, yet the command remained unmistakable. It was a gentle caress that carried the weight of absolute authority, compelling her compliance.

Before she knew it, Angel found herself lying on the cool sheets, the fabric a welcome contrast to the heat that radiated off her body.

Meanwhile, Roman rummaged in the dresser, he seemed determined, his jaw tightening as he searched. Angel couldn't help but wonder what he was going to do to her tonight. The anticipation coiled in her belly, heightening her arousal with each passing moment.

Closing her eyes, she imagined the possibilities, the thrill of the unknown sending shivers down her spine. The gentle breeze drifting through the window teased her hardened nipples, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

"I'm coming, baby, don't worry," Roman's smirk cut through her thoughts, signaling his return. In his hands, he held two objects, recently acquired from an online purchase—a detail that didn't escape Angel's notice.

Excitement bubbled within her as Roman approached the bed, his gifts concealed behind his back. With a swift motion, he pushed her legs apart, exposing her to his hungry gaze.

"Fuck," Roman moaned softly, his gaze devouring her. Her pussy was glistening with anticipation, an invitation he couldn't resist. He placed his knee on the bed just slightly under her bottom and hovered over her.

Placing a soft kiss on her lips, he instructed, "Here," as he placed one of the items on her chest.

Angel's fingers brushed against the fabric of the blindfold. Though they had used it before, tonight promised a new level of intensity, ridding her of the comforting intimacy of eye contact.

She sighed while putting the blindfold on. Already, she could feel herself succumbing to the absence of sight.

Roman's lips trailed a path from her lips to her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses in their wake. With each touch, he stoked the fire within her, rendering her eager for his touch.

"You know you really pissed me off tonight, right?" Roman's voice whispered against her ear. His tongue traced delicate patterns along her skin.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice a barely audible whisper.

Suddenly, a buzzing sound filled the air, and Angel knew immediately what it was—a vibrator. Roman was no longer hovering above her, opting instead to prop himself up on his knee as he teased her with the toy.

Placing the vibrator against her neck, where his lips had just lingered, he elicited a gasp from her lips. He traced a path down her body, exploring every inch of her with the relentless hum of the vibrator.

Her skin erupted in goosebumps as he circled her nipples, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body. She arched against him, desperate for more, her body aching with need.

"It's like you continue to do this shit to me on purpose," Roman murmured, his voice thick with desire. He teased her mercilessly, his touch driving her to the brink of madness.

As he moved the vibrator across her chest, Angel writhed beneath him, her arousal reaching dizzying heights. With each caress, she felt herself unraveling, her need for release growing more urgent with each passing moment.

"You know the one thing I don't play about is disrespect. And your mouth is beginning to get a little too smart for me, baby girl," Roman's voice held a warning, laced with promise as he continued to toy with her.

Angel felt the vibrations of the vibrator travel from her chest and slowly creep down to her navel. Roman looked up and watched as her tongue darted between her pretty lips. It gave him small flashbacks of having her lips wrapped around him. Those flashbacks were quickly cut short by the words that left those lips he fantasized about.

"I'm sorry," she moaned, rolling her hips up in hope of feeling the vibrator against her aching clit.

"Aht, don't do that. That's just going to make me more upset."

With a sigh of frustration, Angel forced herself to stillness, her movements restrained by the weight of Roman's command. Beneath the blindfold, she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to comply with his wishes, no matter how difficult it may be.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, the words a soft plea for forgiveness, mingled with a longing for the release that remained just out of reach.

But Roman remained unmoved, his gaze fixed on her with heavy intensity. In that moment, Angel realized that their game had shifted, the lines between pleasure and punishment blurring into a tantalizing dance of dominance and submission.

And as Roman continued to toy with her, Angel surrendered herself to the torment.

Angel's breath hitched as the vibrator made its way toward her clit, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she prepared for the familiar surge of pleasure. Roman's eyes locked in on her as he observed her reaction.

As the vibrator approached her sensitive bud, Angel's legs instinctively tensed, a reflexive attempt to shield herself from the overwhelming sensation. But Roman, ever the enforcer of control, gently urged her to maintain her position, his touch both firm and reassuring.

"Roman," she moaned loudly, her voice a plea for release as the vibrator connected with her throbbing clit.

"Uhn uhn, this is what you wanted, now keep 'em open," he encouraged, his tone stern as he guided her legs back into position.

The sensation of the vibrator against her clit was almost unbearable. Roman's fingers were slick with her juices, and he couldn't resist the urge to taste her essence.

She strained against the restraints of the blindfold, desperate to witness his actions, but Roman's control over her was absolute. He licked her essence from his fingers, his eyes smoldering with desire as he savored her taste.

"Mmm, I could lick you off my fingers all day, baby," he teased.

Meanwhile, Roman continued to tease her with the vibrator, his movements precise and calculated as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy and back again.

His left hand held her thigh down, his thumb drawing soft circles against her skin, while his right hand worked between her folds, driving her to the edge of sanity with his skilled touch. She could feel herself teetering on the brink of orgasm, her body thrumming with need as Roman pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

"Tell daddy what's going on, talk to me, baby," Roman urged, his voice dripping with seduction.

But Angel could barely form coherent words, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. With a desperate cry, she surrendered to the pleasure, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

But just as she reached the peak of ecstasy, Roman abruptly pulled the vibrator away, leaving Angel trembling with frustration and desire. Usually Roman would guide her through her orgasm, talk her through it, help her ride it out. But this was nothing like that. As soon as she grazed the peak of her orgasm, he just left her to finish..without finishing.

He had ruined her orgasm.

With a frustrated groan, she tore off the blindfold, revealing a smug grin on Roman's face.

"Joe, what the actual fuck!" she exclaimed, her frustration boiling over as she crossed her arms over her chest.

But Roman only chuckled, his amusement evident in the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Now we're both upset, we can call it even,"

--------------------------------------

Why does writing take sooooo long, Jeez!

Hope yall liked this!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

#roman reigns x black reader

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theunsweetenedtruth · 1 month

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Giving You The Best (2)

Summary: A flashback to how T'Challa pursued Nereyda

Previous Part

Pairing: T'Challa x Nereyda (OC) Word Count: 2,501 Warnings: None A/N: Originally written in 2018

He never expected to take up with a dora. He was a prince first and foremost, but he was also a man, something that was forgotten by basically everyone. But her. Nereyda.

When T'Challa first saw her in the market, it was as if every nerve in his body lit up in response to her. She was gorgeous in an innocently naughty way, and he wanted to both protect her and claim her as his. He watched her in what he could admit was an off-putting way, ignoring W'kabi next to him yammering about rhinos. She was with a friend, who eventually caught his unabashed staring and nudged her. She looked to her friend who gestured to T'Challa and when their eyes met, T'Challa felt a swooping in his stomach. She smiled at him shyly before breaking eye contact and ushering her friend in the opposite direction. Her friend's loud laughter and over the shoulder wave were the only indication that he had affected her as much as she had affected him. He had to have her, he felt himself aching to find out if her skin was as soft as it looked.

"I know that look on your face, my friend. I'm here to tell you not to bother," W'kabi's voice cut through T'Challa's imagines.

"What look? What are you talking about?" T'Challa feigned disinterest but W'kabi wasn't buying it.

"I know you, T'Challa. That girl is bad news."

"Eh! That could be your future queen you are talking about," T'Challa slung an arm around his friend's shoulder in jest.

"Aye! Bast forbid! That girl is a dora. The council would hand the throne over to the Jabari before placing a dora as our queen."

T'Challa was taken aback. Yes, he knew of the dora, had heard of the reason for their origination and the subsequent downfall of the practice. But he didn't expect to be completely ensnared with just a look. He just wanted a taste...

W'kabi stopped him with a hand against his chest. "I'm serious T'Challa. You are a prince. It would do no good to have the mark of a dora stain your reign before it even begins. Do not let yourself be swayed by a pretty face."

T'Challa nodded and tried to take his friend's advice but over the next few days he found himself distracted by his thoughts of her. After some investigation–i.e., getting a reluctant W'kabi to find out–he learned her name was Nereyda, she lived at the house where all the current dora lived, and she was not currently seeing anyone. But T'Challa wanted to see her again. He started off small, sending bouquets of flowers from the palace gardens to the dora house.

When they kept getting sent back, he started ordering the delivery people not to accept her returns and make sure Nereyda read the card before they left. In it, T'Challa asked her to call him so that they may set up a time for dinner together. After several weeks of waiting for his kimoyo beads to ring, he started sending other gifts: a white silk robe with flowers on it he saw while attending a conference with his father; a gold necklace with a medallion, Bast embalmed on the front; and a midnight blue, satin nightgown that T'Challa hoped he would get to see her in and maybe take off of her...

Still, the notes accompanying his gifts went unanswered. T'Challa was growing impatient; most women gave in at the first sign of him pursuing them. Even with Nakia– who was almost pushed on him—there was little resistance once he put on the charm. T'Challa would have to do something drastic to get Nereyda's attention.

He walked up to the door of the dora house and rang the doorbell. There was shuffling from the inside before the door was flung open. Nereyda's friend–Nina, his "investigation" had uncovered–opened the door.

"Hi, I am looking for–"

"Oh I know who you are looking for," Nina said, a cheshire grin on her face. "Come in before someone sees you." She ushered him inside, leading him to a parlor room off of the foyer. T'Challa looked around discreetly. There was a wall of pictures, past dora photographed in with men in positions of power and pictures of those who went on to become Queen of Wakanda. He wondered which category he would fall into, just a powerful John, or did Nereyda have the power to convince him to make her his queen.

"You know I told her that you wouldn't take no for answer," Nina interrupted his thoughts.

"I never do when it's something I want," T'Challa quipped.

Nina rose an eyebrow at him before exiting the room. T'Challa went to get a closer look at the pictures, wondering if it was anyone he knew, before hear harsh whispers from the hallway.

"Why did you let him in Nina? I told you I didn't have any plans to see him!"

"Well I don't see why not! If he wants to date you and give you expensive ass things then I say let his ass spoil you! I know you hate being a dora. This could be your chance to save enough to get out and probably get some bomb dick in the meanwhile."

T'Challa could hear Nereyda scoff. "You don't know anything about him, much less about his dick."

"Sis. He looks like he got a big dick, doesn't he? Long live the Black Panther eh!"

T'Challa couldn't hold back a laugh at that. He heard shushing and then Nereyda's head peeked around the corner. He stood as she walked into the room, looking apprehensive at his presence. T'Challa wondered if it was a mistake to come. She made it clear she wasn't interested; he wouldn't be made a fool of.

"My prince, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Her voice was sweet, even as the nerves were painted against her face. She wore a yellow dress, curls free, lips pouty, and once again he was taken aback at her beauty.

"I can assume you received my gifts?" He walked around her, eyeing her. She followed him with her eyes until he was standing behind her and she was unable to look at him. "Is there a reason why I haven't heard from you?" He came to face her again.

She pursed her lips. "I appreciate your interest, your highness–"

"T'Challa," he interrupted.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's appropriate, your highness–"

"T'Challa. Please I insist."

Another eye roll. "And I'm safe to assume that you tend to get your way when you insist."

"Well yes," he quipped just to annoy her. There was another subsequent eye roll and a scoff. By that point, he wanted to spank the habit out of her.

"Well Prince T'Challa, this is one instance where you won't be getting your way. I'm sorry that you would sully yourself by stepping foot in here but I'm not interested."

"May I ask why?" He was curious at the disparaging comments about the dora house, and subsequently of herself.

She met his eyes. "I've seen what happens who become dora for the powerful men of Wakanda." A bitter look crossed her face. "They are a secret that everyone knows about and calls a whore, yet the man is greeted with salutes and honor because he is able to have his cake and eat it too. At the end of the relationship, if the man wasn't generous, she's forced to come back here in shame, no way to book clients again after being the long term whore of a powerful man. He goes on to live a happy life while doras come back here to live out their lives alone." She squared her shoulders and her fiery gaze burned through him. "I have goals. I don't want to become known as "The Prince's dora" for the rest of my life."

T'Challa raked a hand over his mouth. He understood: she wanted to escape the dora house with a better reputation, get married maybe, have children. It's a life most people expected but the stigma of being a dora made her chances slim. Being "The Prince's dora" would make those chances impossible.

"I understand. Thank you for giving me the honor of an explanation," he said sincerely. "But I am not one of those men who would leave you destitute at the end of an arrangement. Even if you don't become my queen–"

"You want me to become your queen?" The shock was clear on her face.

He grasped her hands in his. "I want the opportunity to get to know you and see where this goes." He swallows, embarrassed at what he's about to admit. "You've held me capture from the minute our eyes met. If we grow to love each other, I see no reason why you wouldn't be able to be my queen. But even if you don't, you won't want for anything. All I'm asking for is a chance." T'Challa could see her struggling for words at his confession and the reluctance was still lingering. "I could get on my knees and beg if you'd like," he joked, doing his best to meet her lowered eyes.

That brought a musical laugh out of her, a full belly one that had her throwing her head back, hands still clasped in his. When she was done laughing, she pursed her lips at the puppy dog look her knew he was giving.

"Okay. I'll give you a chance. One dinner."

"One dinner," he agreed. He had one night to pull out all the stops.

That dinner turned into two, then a sleepover, until Nereyda was moving into the palace. T'Challa ignored the looks and whispers among the staff; there were people who didn't agree with his choice of a bed partner but it didn't matter to him. For the first time since Nakia had left to find her place in the world, he was happy. After a long day of sitting in on meetings and training to be king, he had a place to go where he could be himself.

Nereyda was uncomplicated; he was pretty sure she had no leanings toward being queen and for the first six months, she held herself as one who expected the rug to be swept from beneath her feet. T'Challa did his best to reassure her that it wouldn't happen and he was serious about her, but after a conversation with his father he wasn't sure.

"And what of this...dora you have sequestered here in the palace?" T'Chaka asked in the middle of a conversation with his son. They were in the king's office, wrapping up a conversation about the last council meeting. T'Challa was taken aback; this was not the turn he was expecting the conversation to take.

"Nereyda. She is...okay. What do you want to know?" This was an awkward situation. There was little else a man kept a dora for and T'Challa didn't want to delve into details about his sex life with his baba.

But the sex was more than okay. It was mind blowing. After waiting longer than it was clear Nereyda was used to to have sex, T'Challa surprised her with a trip. Even though he didn't expect for them to have sex, they did and T'Challa was addicted. Nereyda was sweet like honey, her skin softer than he'd suspected, and she lit a fire in his body. He found himself craving her with a ferocity he hadn't with any previous lover, just the thought of her getting him half hard and distracted.

But it was more than the sex. His favorite moments were after he returned from a long trip, when they would meet in his rooms and he could tell her all his problems. She'd sit on the couch, his head in her lap and she would listen while stroking his head. It brought him peace to have someone to lean on. T'Challa was also surprised at some of her suggestions to issues he brought before her, and even used them in discussions with his father. Nereyda was turning out to be an asset to his life.

"T'Challa have you heard a word I've said?" T'Chaka interrupted his thoughts.

"Ndiyaxolisa, baba. What did you say?"

"That girl...please T'Challa do not lose focus on what the goal is," T'Chaka warned. "Do not allow your possession of a dora to keep you from doing your duties and please do not get any ideas in your head."

"What kind of ideas, baba?"

"Like marriage to her. She is not a viable candidate for queen."

T'Challa disagreed. "How so? She is smart, beautiful, kind almost to a fault–"

"Ach! You are not thinking with your brain in your head!" T'Chaka exclaimed. "You are nothing more than a job to her. The sooner you realize, the better it will be. Once you are finished with her, she will move on to the next powerful man willing to have the prince's seconds."

T'Challa swallowed his ire. He didn't disagree with his father often but T'Chaka didn't know Nereyda. T'Challa knew he was wrong; Nereyda felt more for him than as just another man she had sex with. She did not have to say it. It was clear in the way she looked at him, the way she touched him and cared for his needs.

But maybe his father was right. It could be a part of her training that helped her to be everything he didn't know he needed. She could be playing coy for the throne. As much as he wanted to stand firm in his belief of her, T'Chaka's words had gotten to him.

His father laid a hand on his arm. "I just want you to be wise T'Challa. You can not risk not having the council on your side. A dora as queen is a sure way to ensure they turn against you."

T'Challa nodded and he felt a negativity that he carried with him the rest of the day.

Later that evening in bed, T'Challa found he couldn't sleep. His father's words played over in his mind, a bitterness in his words that T'Challa couldn't figure out. He rolled over to face his bed mate.

Small puffs of air came from Nereyda, her long lashes fluttering as her eyes moved behind her lids. She was in the beginning stages of a nightmare, the quickness of her heartbeat and the tight way she held herself his clue. Soft whimpers pushed through her lips and T'Challa pressed a hand to her cheek. He stroked her smooth skin with his thumb and whispered into her ear as he gathered her into his arms. Nereyda nestled into his chest under his chin, gripping his arm tightly before falling into a calmer sleep.

T'Challa smiled into the darkness and fell asleep. His father was wrong.

Next Part

#unsweetimagine #black panther #t'challa x black!oc #t'challa fanfiction #t'challa imagine #t'challa x poc

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