Hey,One shot appears out of no where! Since I saw the movie Ive had a serious thing for Chadwick Bosemen. I saw some headcannons on Tumblr and...out popped this one shot. I wanted to switch it up from my usual oc style and do a reader insert. Let me know what you think.

-Lex!

If anyone ever asked, you would tell them that he was everything you had ever dared to wish. He was gentle, like the Wakandan sun during the cool months. He was intelligent, able to mentally spar with dignitaries the world over. He was courageous, just as a lion in th-no, not like a lion…Like a panther.

And most of all he was yours. Completely yours…and in a weeks' time you would marry the love of your life under the same Wakanda Sun you had been born under. Hmm, you thought, allowing yourself a giggle. Life was good indeed.

"Hmm," The sound a questioning hum that you knew well. Regardless, you jumped at his stealthy approach. "What is making my Queen giggle so?"

"T'Challa, don't scare me like that!" You gasped, swatting his chest lightly as you turned from your work station. You were supposed to be busy drawing schematics for a new outreach center in Harlem. "And I'm not your Queen yet, my love."

"Ey, Semantics." He insisted, those flawless lips baring a smile. Friends since childhood and that smile still managed to take your breath away. T'challa leaned forward, invading your personal space and framing your body with his massive hands. He teased, "I've had obligations since sunrise while you have been down here…playing with Shuri."

"Aye! We did some work, too!" You scoffed in mock offense. Offering him a smile of your own, before shifting to your toes to plant a small kiss on his bottom lip. "Added some advancements to your suit, My King."

The instant hunger in his bottomless eyes made your core quake. Bast, help you.

"Y/N." T'challa called, his already raspy voice dropping down to an octave he only used when you two were alone. "I have gone a full day without a moment with you by my side. I will tolerate it no longer."

You were about to stammer out something along the lines of 'Yes, sir' when a rather brash groan interrupted you.

"For Bast sake!" Shuri rolled her eyes playfully as she breezed past the two of you with arms full of tech. "It took you years to ask Y/N out. You can live without her while she works."

"Yes, years." He winked, before pulling away from you and striding over to his sister. Mussing her braids in a way that she was used to. "But I am not a man that repeats my mistakes."

"Brother, you are a King. With a castle." Shuri smirked, popping a salute to T'challa. "So it should be easy to…get-a-room."

You tried to laugh quietly but Shuri had been cracking all day. Honestly, your work days had become so much better since you stopped working in the architecture center and became Shuri's assistant. You could hardly wait to be officially sisters with the young girl. The sibling bickering continued for a few minutes until T'challa announced that he needed check on the White Wolf's training.

"My love," he bid you goodbye, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead while his eyes glinted with mischief. T'challa slid over to your ear and whispered. "20 minutes."

He didn't wait for your reply. Knowing that, flustered and anxious, you would be meeting him at his quarters in 20 minutes. Shit, you thought, mind swimming as the ghost of his voice clawed up your spine. Should have told him ten minutes…

"How are those plans coming, Y/N?" Shuri asked pointedly from her work station.

"Did you have any ideas for the Upperlevel Classrooms, Shuri?"

"As a matter of fact, I have been chewing on this idea of…"

You sighed with relief as the genius gave you something to think about other than just how long 20 minutes really was…

"Gahh!" You yelped fifteen minutes later, being grabbed then spun around. Your back was between a wall and T'challa's broad chest. "Do you enjoy tormenting me, T'challa?"

"You are always so unaware of your surroundings, Y/N. No Matter, that will change with more training." He assured, engulfing your hand with his as he led you down the quiet East Corridor. "Okoye tells me that you are already doing well in your sparing sessions an-"

"T'challa, where are you taking me?" You asked, knowing his quarters were in the South.

"We're getting a room." He muttered, looking you over with a very, very unkinglike gaze. His skillful tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Now."

"Yes, My King." You purred, knowing just what kind of floodgate you were provoking.

His grip tightened almost possessively as he pulled your though an already open door and into a sizable room. Quickly, you realized this was an office: a wall of books, an area of monitors, a scattering of chairs from a previous meeting and beautiful wooded desk across from the spacious windows. As you admired the well-put-together space, T'challa's hands crept up and down your body. Caressing past bumps and curves he knew like a familiar road.

"Do you like my new office?" He asked, drawing his lips across your exposed neck but not quiet kissing. His sure hands roaming over your collarbone and past your breast. "It kept me away from you all day."

"Then no, I don't like it." You drawled, allowing your head to fall to the side and give your Intended better access.

You felt his skillful fingers work down your spine and it took you a second too long to understand. He was looking for a zipper. T'challa, growing frustrated, decided to rip the offending garment. Neck to waist.

"You buy complicated dresses just to tease me." His raspy voice had reached that low octave that you swear played in your dreams.

"The zipper was on the side." You chuckled, intending to turn to him but he held you firm.

"Do not move." T'challa commanded, sliding the ripped dress off your hips and onto the floor. "Were you fond of that one?"

"Very."

"Then you'll have another by tomorrow." The king assured, continuing to undress you. One by one, you clothes stacked onto the desk. When his robes started to follow you groaned…turning to behold your beloved.

You had read somewhere that love was blind. Well, you'd challenge that. You saw him. Every ripple of his muscle in perfection. Every scar on his smooth skin a flaw. All the doubt, all the confidence. The fear, the courage. Calm. Passion. You saw every bit of him, clear as glass. Hoping that you provided a decent reflection.

His lips connected with yours…that mixture of firmness and warmth that you had grown accustomed to. Lips dueled with lips, a tongue explored just after a set of teeth lightly nibbled. In moments like these, just the two of you-just two people in love, T'challa would kiss you with a reverence. As if you, an ordinary girl from a Boarder Tribe, deserved to be adored by a King. After years being loved by T'challa you were finally starting to believe it. Kinda…

"Stop that." He commanded, pulling back just enough to see your eyes. Sometimes you orget just how well your Intended could read you. "Stop thinking that."

"I was never meant to be your queen." You told him as his hands traveled into your curls. Lightly, tugging and you released a moan in response.

"I'll have no one doubting, my Queen." He stated boldly. "Not even you."

T'challa tilted your head upwards and began kissing and sucking on your neck. His lips and tongue worked in tandem in that magical way that made you hungry. A craving for his man so deep that you would never be satisfied. Quickly, your hands flew to his chest, drawing your nails down delicately. Without breaking his focus on your neck, T'challa gathered your hands in his…securing them behind your bare back.

"T'challa," you moaned. Barely containing your need.

"Hmm?" The Panther hummed, holding your hands still with just one of his…the other embedded into your curls. Forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."

Damn him, he was going to make you say it. You shivered as his fingers…slightly rough from fighting, trailed over your heated skin. The intensity was heady. Your own personal torture. Your own personal blessing.

"Hmm, Y/N?" He looked down at you as he walked you back. Placing you onto the cool wooden desk while maintain his hold. "Tell me. And I'll grant your wish."

"You." you answered, the confession tasting sweet on your lips.

"You have me, umhle. I belong to you." He promised, pausing or a few seconds to take in your beauty before laying you back. "And you? Who you belong to, my love?"

"You, T'challa." You connected with his eyes. "Bast, Always you My King."

The only preamble to his lips attacking your center was a growl that could have sent you over the edge. This was how it had been since your first time together. Sometimes slow and gentle. Sometimes fast and desperate. But always intense…every time. His mouth, so diplomatic and regal, knew just how to get you. He worked off your moans, using them like a road map. Messy kisses, slow licks alternating with short grazes and flickering with his tongue until you were a squirming mess on top of his desk. The noise you made bouncing of the walls of a room that was used for meetings just hours ago. Your hips rolled, involuntarily, desperate for more friction.

"Yes, me." T'challa rose, stopping just as he brought you to the edge. "Only me, Y/N"

"T'challa…" You rose, instantly wrapping your fingers around his girth. He groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. "You really do enjoy tormenting me."

"I would never hurt you, My love." He kissed you deeply for a moment. Your necture still coating his tongue. "Only make you beg."

"Is that what My King desires? For his Queen to beg?" you asked formally, tightening your grip on his member just the way he liked.

T'challa smiled, a toothy grin at hearing you accept your place as queen. He forced you to remove your hand, pushing you back until he leaned over you. Your hands pinned firmly against the wood of the desk. Had you been standing, certainly your knees would have buckled.

"T'challa…" You moaned openly, seeing the approval glint in his eyes.

"Yes, I want you to beg. But I'm going to earn it."

Gripping your thighs, T'challa face nestled back between your legs. His mouth was more deliberate this time. Intentional, not needing your moans to guide him as he knew what you liked. How to make you, his favorite image of beauty, shatter into a million pieces. Bast, it was his favorite thing. Hardly ever feeling more like a King than when you trusted him like this. When you allowed his strength to hold you together in those moments.

If he could…he'd make you shatter in that way all day. If you'd allow him to trace your faultlines.

"Let go, my queen." T'challa encouraged, against your center. Knowing you were close: your hips rolling, your nails digging into his shoulders with the effort of holding yourself together. "Let go, for me."

You gasped, his voice snapping the tension in your body like a string. You inside swooped from under you as if taking a dive off a cliff much too high. Your breath came in quick riffs as your babbled his name. The pleasure washing over you in waves that threatened to drown you…or wash away any other man that had touched you. Maybe both. T'challa hadn't stopped his ministrations, wishing to know just how long he could draw out this orgasm. Your back arched, biting out helpless moans and quivering as one orgasm blended in the next.

"T'chal…T'challa." You whimpered, pushing at his shoulders. Unable to handle more. "Please."

He relented, trailing his lips…lips that would surely be the death of you, sweetly up your body. Kissing away the overstimulated tears in the corner of your eyes.

"I love you." You promised, your breath not yet even.

"And I love you." T'challa assured, whining his arms behind your back. Lifting you up with less than a quarter of his strength and forcing your legs around his waist. "But I am not done with you."

Your back pressed against the wall behind his desk.

If anyone ever asked, he was everything you dared wish for. He was demanding, like the Wakandan sun during the summer months. He was seductive, words spilling from his royal lips that could rival the most sensual song. He was dominating…like a king.

Your King.