Summary: Being an adopted sibling to T’Challa and Shuri, the last thing you should be doing is falling for M’Baku, leader of the Jabari tribe. Too bad your heart wouldn’t listen.
Word Count: 2,161
Warnings for Series: Fluff, smut, angst
Author’s Note: This is my first time writing M’Baku. Please be gentle. This fic wouldn’t be possible without @captain-rogers-beard and @climbthatmooselikeatree, their support and assistance has been invaluable.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
You were standing in front of the mirror, eyes roving over your reflection. You could hardly believe how beautiful you felt and looked. The vibrant colors of your wedding dress stood out against your dark skin, giving you a rich and lush feeling. It was difficult to keep still, the urge to spin was almost too strong to ignore.
Just as you were about to give in, Shuri popped out from behind you. “You have not seen the best part, sister,” she chuckled. She ran her hands along a seam and pushed them into it, making you gasp at the thought of your dress dress being ruined.
“Pockets!” she proclaimed, a giant smile lighting up her face.
You giggled as you shoved your hands into them and tangled your fingers with hers. “I love it, sister.”
“Only the best for you. Just… don’t tell T’Challa,” she said with a wink.
“Thank you,” you said seriously. “For everything.”
Shuri took your hands in hers and squeezed them. “Why do you sound as if we will never see each other again?”
The words were there, teetering precariously on the tip of your tongue, ready to shine a light onto the woman that had raised you, but you could not do that to Shuri. She loved her mother with every ounce of her soul, you did not want to destroy that. Instead, you gave her a tight smile and shrugged your shoulders.
“One never knows when it will be the last time seeing their loved ones.”
Your sister’s eyes grew damp as she hugged you. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you murmured into her hair, returning her painfully tight hug.
Shuri pulled away quickly. “Mother, is something the matter?”
You whirled around to find the queen wiping at her face. “Leave us, child,” she commanded her daughter.
“Go on,” you said after giving Shuri the ring you were going to present to M’Baku during the ceremony.
Once the door was closed, you became incredibly nervous. Why was Ramonda in your room? Did she have plans to keep you from your marriage?
“I will be out of your life in a few hours time, my queen,” you said, barely able to keep the emotion from your voice.
“Oh, child,” she lamented, crossing the room quickly. “I have made quite a mess of things, and for that, I must apologize.”
Confusion washed over you at her words. “What?”
Ramonda pulled in a deep breath, one that you felt in the marrow of your bones. “I have treated you as an outcast for almost your entire life, and for what?”
“I do not know.”
You had gone a lifetime without someone telling you why the woman hated you. All you had wanted was to be part of a family and to be loved. When T’Chaka found you that night, huddled in the corner, curled in on yourself, and weeping, you thought you would finally achieve your dream. Ramonda was not as welcoming as her husband. She shut you out of her heart from the moment she had laid eyes on you, and that hurt worse than watching your parents starve to death in order for you to survive.
There were tears blurring her vision and she swallowed heavily as she struggled to compose herself. “I lost a child that day, a girl. Her name was to be Ayana,” she admitted, a sad smile on her lips.
Your heart clenched in your chest. “I… I had no idea.”
“There were only a handful that knew; T’Chaka, T’Challa, and Zuri,” she explained. “T’Challa was only a child that day, but he remembers everything about it.”
“Not even Shuri?” you asked breathlessly.
Ramonda shook her head. “No, but she will after today. I swear it.”
“So,” you murmured, your mind still reeling with the news of a dead child. “It was nothing I did?”
“Child, no,” the queen gasped, cupping your face in her hands. “In my grief, I did the worst thing possible; I took it out on you, and never once thought of the pain I was inflicting.”
Tears fell from your eyes, which Ramonda swiped away with her thumbs. “I am so sorry, my child.” She pulled you into her arms and held you tight, weeping openly, just as you were.
“Can you ever forgive me?” she implored, anguish and mourning rushing through her.
You held onto her and nodded. “I forgive you, mother.”
Ramonda choked on a sob and, for the first time ever, called you her daughter without any resentment lacing her words.
M’Baku stood at the border of the two lands. He was wearing dark pants, a deep blue tunic that fell to mid-thigh, and a white fur around his shoulders. You smiled at the realization that he and your brother matched.
“Yes,” T’Challa whispered into your ear. “It was done on purpose. We wanted to show unity within the tribes.”
You hugged him tight. “Thank you, brother.”
After returning the hug, he pulled back and nodded at Ramonda. “You two seem to be getting along.”
Looking over your shoulder, you waved the queen. “She told me, T’Challa,” you explained. “And she apologized for how I was treated.”
“I am happy that everything is resolved,” he admitted, a weight having been lifted from his shoulders.
“She does plan on telling Shuri,” you told him, his hand flexing on yours. “Shuri is strong and compassionate. She’ll understand, brother.”
He gave you a knowing smile. “Come,” he announced loudly, holding his arm out for you to rest your hand on. “Let the wedding commence.”
There was a swarm of butterflies in your belly as T’Challa walked with you toward the man you knew you belonged with for the rest of time. M’Baku smiled as you approached, his dark eyes drilling into yours, his eagerness barely contained. You could see that he wanted to bolt across the border, pluck you from the ground, and kiss you senseless, but there was a ceremony to be had, and Mother was a stickler for doing things according to tradition.
Shuri was at your other side, her hand held out, the ring you had crafted for M’Baku lying in her palm. You retrieved it and kissed her cheek, giving her a wink before she backed away.
Dropping a kiss to your cheek, T’Challa placed one foot over the border so that he was straddling it. “Today we celebrate the union of our tribes, tribes that had been enemies for thousands of years,” he called out so that every person in attendance could hear.
M’Baku stretched out his arm, holding out his hand to your brother. “I am M’Baku of the Jabari tribe,” he boomed, his thunderous voice sending a shiver down your spine. T’Challa took M’Baku’s hand and placed yours atop it.
“I am Y/N of the Panther tribe,” you said, voice shaking, your nerves getting the better of you.
T’Challa pressed his other hand into the palm of M’Baku’s, effectively sandwiching all of your hands together. He elaborated on his earlier statement about the joining of tribes, words that were strong and powerful, words that brought the people of Wakanda to tears.
Once your hands we released, M’Baku took hold of your hand and slid a ring made of vibranium onto your fourth finger, vowing to love and protect you until the end of time. He gave your hand a squeeze before dropping it so you could pull his ring from your pocket.
You held his hand in yours, once again marveling at the size of it. He could do so much damage with it, brutally defending his people, the ones that he loved, and yet, he could bring you so much pleasure with it. Repeating his vows, you slid the dark wooden ring onto his finger. There was a line of vibranium running through it that thrummed when it came into contact with yours. Both of you sucked in a breath at the sparks that danced along your skin.
T’Challa clapped in approval. “And now, you may kiss the bride.”
M’Baku took your face in his hands and pulled you up to him as he bowed his shoulders. Your mouths met in a sweet and loving kiss that would have grown passionate in the blink of an eye if it had not been for your brother.
“And now, we celebrate!”
M’Baku carried you into the bedroom the two of you now shared. His large hands were roaming your body, tugging at the voluminous material around your legs, careful not to rip it as he wanted to see you wear it again, but eager to rid you of it, to get you naked and vulnerable, to devour you. After the fur fell from his wide shoulders – at your urging – M’Baku grabbed the hem of his tunic and yanked off, tossing it to the floor.
“Your turn,” your husband growled.
At his instruction, you turned around and sucked in a breath as he pulled down the zipper, exposing your back. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric at your shoulders, his callouses scraping along your skin as he pushed your dress down. Once it pooled around your feet, you turned to face him, your hands coming to a rest on the buckle of his belt.
You had just undone the buckle when he hauled you off the floor, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stalked toward the bed. He had waited long enough, he wanted you, and he wanted you immediately. He laid you down and pressed kisses into your skin, nipping at the spots he knew made you gasp. You were a panting, writhing mess by the time he reached the apex of your thighs.
M’Baku looked up at you, a devilish smirk on his face and a gleam in his eyes. The two of you may have been well versed in each other’s bodies, but tonight he was going to prove just how well he knew you. With a wink, he dipped his head and licked a broad stripe between your folds, pulling a moan out of you that neither of you recognized. He liked it so much, he did it again, and again, and again.
You clutched the blankets as he continued devouring you, pushing his wide tongue harder, flicking the tip just inside of you, teasing you mercilessly until you were ready to scream. With his hands on the back of your thighs, he pushed your legs up and out, opening you wider as he finally pushed his tongue into you, growling at the taste.
“Yes,” you hissed, your back arching off the bed, your thighs shaking as he used his knees for leverage, driving his tongue deeper, his nose pressing into your clit.
M’Baku set your foot onto his shoulder and slid his middle finger next to his tongue, using them in tandem, driving you higher and higher until you screamed his name as you came. You were sure you saw galaxies being born behind your eyelids, your entire body thrumming with each explosion.
Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses were pressed to your shaking body as your husband crawled up it, his heavy cock swinging, nudging the inside of your thighs with every move. You had not yet opened your eyes, had not started to come down from your high when he entered you inch by gloriously thick inch.
With a feral gleam in his eyes, M’Baku inched in and out at your urging, your nails scraping down his muscular back, a cry trapped in your throat, carnal need roaring through you. He had you coming quickly, every inch of you thrumming, quaking, like a freight train was barrelling down on you.
M’Baku’s thick thighs spread as he pushed his knees into the bed, using it as leverage to open you even wider. He let loose a growl that went straight to your pussy as he sank deeper yet. The new angle was tighter, your slick channel squeezing his sensitive cock-head, and it had him flying over the precipice with a booming shout of your name.
He kissed you fiercely as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you tight to his chest as he fell to his side. You were limp against him, your entire body aching in the best way possible.
“I did not hurt you, did I?” he breathed against your lips.
You hummed as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “No, my King. I am not hurt.”
A large hand was on your hip, squeezing the aching muscles deliciously. “I did not mean to. I just cannot control myself at times.”
“My love,” you mused, resting your hand against his cheek. “You have not hurt me.”
“Good,” he rasped, his eyes fluttering closed before he kissed you sweetly.
Reaching behind his back, M’Baku tugged a blanket over the pair of you since you had started to doze even while he was kissing you.
“Goodnight, my Queen.”
FOUR?
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