Tumgik
Photo
Tumblr media
“We’ll make this work. We’ll be alright.”
495 notes · View notes
Note
So, i heard you were looking for IronPanther prompts!! wrong number AU maybe? sorry if thats a lame prompt, ily xo
A/N: I honestly love wrong number AUs, it isn’t lame at all! I didn’t have the time to give this fic the love and attention it deserved before work, but I hope you enjoy! You can also read this on Ao3!
It starts, like so many things in Tony’s life, with a drink.
Well, that’s not entirely accurate. It starts with many drinks, first the Talisker that Obie leaves on the counter with his condolences, then the scotch hidden under his bed, then the cheap beer that Rhodey left in the fridge because Tony doesn’t even care about quality anymore, he just wants to not feel anymore.
He’s mostly successful, slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed with an empty can and an empty head. He stares at one of his astrophysics textbook, at the vague geographic shapes on its cover, and tries to find meaning in it all.
There’s a thump and a whirr and Tony almost falls over as something pokes him hard in the side. He turns and his brain can’t make sense of the blur of metal before him. Then it condenses to the helper AI he’s working on, still only basic programming and rough metal. Tony grimaces at it, at yet another of his failures, and it pushes something into his face. The phone.
Tony scowls as the AI drops it on his lap and rolls away. He doesn’t need to call anyone, he’s fine.
He’s not. He picks up the phone.
Keep reading
238 notes · View notes
Note
Ironpanther Steve jealous
Steve watches from the cracked doorway, body stiff and fists clenched, as King T’Challa twirls Tony before bringing him in close once again and they continue their slow dancing. 
He watches Tony rest his head against the King’s chest, eyes closed in content as they sway, and feels a sort of anger prickle up his spin.
He backs away when he hears T’Challa whisper his love and Tony answering sincerely, sealing it with a kiss, and leaves angry at himself.
*send me a pairing, a prompt, & I’ll write you a three-sentence fic
408 notes · View notes
Note
Rich boyfriends ironpanther! “but did you do it?”
“… and Rhodey said to me ‘I dare you to go and lick the LibertyBell!’ Can you believe that?”
Tony tips his head back. He’s snuggled up against T'Challa, his backpressed into the king’s chest, with a pair of warm, strong armsaround his middle. It’s comfortable and he enjoys it, soaking up thismoment of peace.
T'Challa smiles down at him, soft and a tad cheeky. “Aftereverything that I have heard about you two at MIT, yes, I can believethat”, he answers and Tony grins.
He runs his fingers over T'Challa’s arm and hums when a soft kiss ispressed to his forehead.
“I said he’s crazy. That’d be a five hour drive and we didn’t havea license back then. Or well, I didn’t. I was 16, but I just had notime to get one. So yeah, it was a stupid idea.”
T'Challa smiles a little wider, running his fingers through Tony’shair.
“But did you do it?”, he inquires. He’s almost certain he knowsthe answer already.
Tony starts to laugh, unrestrained and happy, a sound that warms theking’s heart.
Brown eyes look up at him, sparkling with mischief.
“I damn well did it. Stole the principle’s car and kidnappedRhodey. We snuck past the guard and actually licked the bell. We gotin so much trouble for all this, but it was worth it. Still one ofthe best memories I have.”
T'Challa snorts, but pretends to cough. He can’t quite hide his smilethough and shakes his head with a soft sigh.
“At least you grew out of it”, he says with a chuckle and nowit’s Tony’s turn to chuckle.
“Who ever said I did?”, he gives back, grinning at T'Challa.“Hey, do you have plans for tonight? I think there’s a bell inPhilly that we have to visit-”
T'Challa shuts him up with a kiss.
I totally didn’t steal this idea from “How I met your Mother”
310 notes · View notes
Text
This is kinda embarrassing … but since I got from holiday without internet I am unable to finde the buttons to change the page in the new design  :/
Somebody …help?… please?
Our new theme, while cleaner and brighter, does have a tendency to be too large for smaller screens. You can still move from page to page one of two ways.
1. zoom out on the page so that you can see the left and right page buttons on the sides
2. move from page to page by editing the url. (i.e. imagineironpanther.tumblr.com/page/2 to /page/3, etc)
This isn’t ideal, we know, and when we find the time we’ll set up a theme that allows all of our followers to move from page to page easily. Thank you for your patience in the meantime!
8 notes · View notes
Note
hi, if you're accepting prompts can I offer: (ironpanther) King T'Chaka's reply "except when moving a piano" in CACW was actually in reference to the time T'Challa bought a piano for Tony and the resulting awkwardness of dragging the instrument around looking for the perfect spot while keeping it secret from Tony :)
This fits into this set of drabbles.
—-
“You did not think this through, did you?” T’Chaka asked, amused.
His son gave him an unamused glare. “I thought that-”
Raising a brow, T’Chaka said, “That two people could move a baby grand piano?”
Sighing helplessly, TChalla said, “Baba….”
Laughing, T’Chaka glanced back at Cebisa and gave a nod of his head. She smirked slightly and stepped out into the hall to gather some help for them. Meanwhile, T’Chaka walked over to his son, a fond smile on his face.
“I assume there is a reason you felt compelled to purchase a custom made piano?”
T’Chaka blushed, ducking his head bashfully, and T’Chaka grinned widely.
“A reason that may have the name of Tony Stark?” he teased some more.
“Baba,” T’Challa muttered. Laughing, T’Chaka pulled his sun into a hug, kissed the side of his head.
“You spoil him.”
“He deserves to be,” T’Challa said quietly. “He has not been, very often.” He gazed at the piano thoughtfully. “He is used to being the one to make grand gestures to others. He is not used to receiving them. And… I enjoy making him happy.”
T’Chaka nodded. “You love him.” He waited a moment, then added, “I merely ask that if you plan on proposing tonight or any other time, you forewarn us.”
“Baba!” T’Challa yelped.
T’Chaka burst into laughter.
~*~*~
T’Chaka found Tony in the guest room that had used to be his. He rarely stayed there, now that he and T’Challa were married. However, T’Chaka had thought he would find him there tonight.
Tony plinked at the keys, half a tune and no thought. Sighing, T’Chaka went to sit beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder.
“I know you are worried,” he murmured.
“They’ve put Ross in charge,” Tony said, sneering. “You may not get it, but that guy’s bad news.”
“I have met his like before,” T’Chaka agreed. “But sometimes we must set aside some battles, until it is safe to pick them back up.”
Tony looked at him, eyes pinched with worry. “I still don’t know if this is the best idea,” he admitted. “The Avengers… they’re - we’re not hurting anyone. I mean, people get hurt but… but they’d get hurt worse without us.”
“Perhaps,” T’Chaka said gently. “But I remind you - does this give you the right to do whatever you please, wherever you wish to do it?”
Tony sighed, looking away.
Sighing as well, T’Chaka set a hand on Tony’s back. “Play a song for me?” he asked.
After a moment, Tony settled on the bench more squarely and set his hands to the keys and played.
389 notes · View notes
Text
An Apology:
Sorry for the lapse in fic over the past several days; some of the admins, myself included, have been rather caught up in the chaos of returning to school or other real life responsibilities. We will try to return to posting original content as soon as possible. Thank you for your patience! - Taylor
22 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
T'Challa and Tony sketch :p
67 notes · View notes
Text
Best For My Boy, Part 3
Part 1/Part 2 or Follow on Ao3 -Rachel
Two weeks later . . .
Tony couldn’t believe he’d let his dad talk him into coming to this stupid function. It was boring as hell and all of the people that he came across wanted to talk about Politics or sports, neither of which he found very interesting. But this wasn’t about fun, this was about improving his skills as a business man, or at least, that’s how his dad had put it.
*ring….. ring…..* “Hello?”
“Hey Bambi, how are you?”
“Oh! Hi Dad, I’m good, things are finally slowing down at school again. I was taking a nap and didn’t check the caller ID.”
“Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” Howard felt bad waking his son up, he knew the boy probably didn’t get enough sleep these days with all the work he was putting in for his projects.
“It’s okay dad. I missed you, it’s been a few days since our last phone call.” He heard rustling over the phone, probably Tony moving into a more comfortable position. His heart swelled, hearing that his son not only missed him, but was willing to admit it. He must be really tired if he was saying stuff like that.
“Oh Tony I miss you too. I was actually hoping you’d be free next weekend?” He really hoped with Tony’s tired state that he wouldn’t ask too many questions.
There was a pause from the Tony’s side, “There’s nothing important happening, and I should be finished with some of my finals right before then.” Howard sighed in relief, this was turning out to be easier than he thought. “Why? What’s up?” Maybe he spoke too soon….
“Well I was hoping that we could spend some time together, you haven’t been home in a while and I miss my Bambi.” He tried to keep it as sincere as possible but his son always saw through him.
“Okay dad, what’s really going on? You’re acting sentimental, which means you’re hiding something because you think I won’t like it, so what’s really going on?”
“So there might be a gala I want you to attend with me but it’s only one and just for a few hours….” He rushed out, hoping getting it out faster would be easier somehow.
“Daaaaaaad, why? You know I hate going to those suits parties.” Tony trialed off, probably thinking over the few galas or events that Howard had managed to drag him too.
“Please Tony, there’s a few people I need you to meet and then it’ll be beneficial in the long run. If you’re ever to become CEO one day, these parties are going to become a necessity whether you like it or not, so the more practice you get in now will make it easier on you for the future.” They’ve discussed this before, Howard wanted to show Tony how to handle these types of events, learn to mingle with the sharks of society while working out relations and prying money from their pockets all why being charming in the eye of all attendees. Normally he was slacker with pressuring Tony into going to these things but they were both getting old and he might have an ulterior motive for this one.
“Fine, fine, I’ll go.” Tony gave a great sigh over the line but Howard was elated he didn’t have to fight him harder on this.
“Excellent, I’ll even come myself to pick you up Friday evening? Is that too soon?” He didn’t want to sound too excited but this was perfect, he couldn’t wait to call T’Chaka.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll see you next Friday Dad, love you.”
“Love you too, bye son.”
So that’s how Tony found himself sulking at the end of the bar. Sadly he wasn’t legal yet but he could still sip at a soda and try to ignore everyone. His dad had introduced him to a few people already, most some wealthy people that were looking to invest their loads of cash. The others he was introduced to were the new partnering companies that Stark Industries had been recently contracting with to build better medical equipment. Eventually Howard got pulled away by an urgent phone call leaving Tony to fend for himself. He lingered on the floor for a bit but after politely talking his way out of the third consecutive conversation about golf he made his way to the bar where he could brood in the corner.
He was tearing up a napkin, ignoring the subtle glares the bar tender was sending him for the mess when someone cleared their throat behind him. “Is this seat taken?”
He turned around and whoa……. An alpha, maybe a few years older than him was standing next to him. He’s tall with dark chocolate skin that was being mostly concealed but nicely accented by a charcoal gray suit that fit him well. His skin was flawless, a strong jaw and chin framed by a lite coating of fuzz. His hair cut down but looked good and then there was his eyes, they were sparkling at him and filled with amusement.
“Oh, y-yeah. I mean, no it’s not, you can sit there.” He blushed, the man only spoke four words to him and he was stuttering like a pre-teen with a crush.
“You seem bored, sitting here by yourself.” The man beside him quickly flagged down the bartender, giving him a sweet smile that twisted his stomach in knots, warmth spreading through his body.
“That obvious?” He gave a weak smile, he didn’t want to scare the other man off but he was so nervous and wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m, uh,” The man had been facing the bartender who was delivering him a drink but then turned his attention back to the omega when he spoke, Tony felt weak under the other’s undivided attention, “I’m Tony.”
“T’Challa, nice to meet you Tony.”
He held out his hand, Tony scrambled to untangle his to return the hand shake. He couldn’t help marveling at how soft his hands felt, even though there was power behind the shake and calluses on the pad of his hand. “Likewise.”
“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” he paused and Tony nodded his head, gesturing for him to continue, “I’m guessing you’re not very interesting in talking about politics with these gentlemen.”
“Yeah, I understand it and know it’s necessary but I’d rather avoid the guys that get overly passionate about the subject. They can go on for hours and then it never fails that someone joins in to get a debate going.”
He chuckled and Tony glowed with pride and getting that smooth dexterity to crack, “Yes that is quite common, but that brings be back to my question. What would you rather being talking about. Or what are you passionate enough to get into heated debates about?”
“Science.” His answer came quick and automatic. He coughed to ease some of the awkwardness he felt, “mostly engineering and physics, but I wouldn’t mind talking about other subjects.”
“Well, you mentioned engineering, are you an engineer?” T’Challa looked generally interested and it made some of the anxious knots loosen up inside him.
“Well, since you asked….”
“….. and then Rhodey came storming in, fire extinguisher foam covering him head to toe, Dum-E trialing behind him still trying to dose him with the empty can.” They both laughed. Tony’s night improved immensely with T’Challa by his side. They spoke easily about MIT, T’Challa’s own college experiences and a few failed experiments here and there. Tony was finally enjoying himself, T’Challa was really easy to talk to once they got on a subject more familiar to him and it helped that T’Challa understood what he was saying and was able to throw in his own stories.
He was sad when they had to part ways, a woman had come over and told T’Challa that his father was waiting for him. Tony tried not to let the disappointment show on his face but he must not have done too well.
“Tony,” he looked up at the other man, “can I have your number? I’d like to see you again and hear more stories about Dum-E, he sounds like quite the character.”
“Oh, yeah, yes. Here.” Tony scribbled his number on a crumpled napkin and then beamed up at T’Challa, unable to hide the smile that won over his face and not caring much about it. T’Challa smiled back at him and then left with Tony’s cell phone number and a promise to call soon.
Tony was so caught up in staring dreamily after the alpha that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand landed on his shoulder. He spun in his chair to see his father, hands raised in surrender. “Sorry Tony, didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
Once he got his breathing under control again, he lightly punched his father’s shoulder, “Jesus Dad, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“I didn’t sneak, I walked over here like a normal person, you were just too busy making heart eyes at that young man.” Tony blushed hard and his dad’s shit-eating grin didn’t help the situation, “Well,” he looked at his father who seemed to be containing himself from squealing at him like an excited fan girl.
“Well what?” 
Howard released the breath he had been holding and instead let his hands fall to his hips. “Tell me who he is!” Tony was surprised by his father’s excitement. But then again, Howard did get really weird when it came to Tony dating anyone.
Tony let himself think about the past hour, how easy it was to talk to T’Challa and how the alpha had promised to call him, the promise of a date. He smiled, “A potential date.” He smiled into his soda, ignoring his father’s pleas for details and how cruel he was being for leaving his old man out of the loop.
165 notes · View notes
Note
I really love your ironpanther fics so for the sentence prompts 2 thing, 74. "are you hitting on me?" with ironpanther please?
Aww, thank you! I enjoy writing them :)
—-
T’Challa blinked, glancing over at Tony. “Are you hitting on me?” he asked, ignoring the sudden weight to the room as everyone else in debrief focused on them.
Tony lounged back in his chair some more, a move that was oddly fluid for someone wearing a metal suit of armor. “Have been,” he stated. “You just now realizing?”
“During debrief?” T’Challa raised a brow - not that it was seen, but his tone made up for it.
“During debrief,” Tony agreed. “Also during breakfast yesterday. And the week before when we were working on that project in my workshop. And-”
“And over the comms during that recon mission,” Natasha said.
“And during the press conference last month,” Sam groaned.
“And-”
“Yes, thank you,” Tony said tartly. He looked back at T’Challa, head tilting. “So?”
For a long moment, T’Challa just stared at him. Finally he pursed his lips. “I have business to attend to in Wakanda in ten days.”
Clint, somewhere behind T’Challa, made a soft sympathetic kind of noise.
Tony though nodded. “I was thinking Sunday.”
“Do you not have that meeting with your R&D group on Monday?”
“They know not to expect me until afternoon sometime,” Tony dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So long as we don’t go out of the country, it’ll be fine.”
“There is a place I enjoy in Seattle,” T’Challa said.
Tony nodded. “I’ll let my pilot know.”
“I will be paying.”
When Tony made an odd noise - surprise and uncertain disagreement, T’Challa firmed his tone and repeated himself.
“Fine,” Tony agreed, not entirely politely. T’Challa grinned.
“Can we get back to debrief,” Steve asked, strained.
Tony waved his hand rather regally, which got him a tight look from Steve. T’Challa received the same look when he said, “You may continue, Captain.”
472 notes · View notes
Text
The Care and Wooing of Tony Stark, Billionaire
Part 4 of ? (Ao3 link here) (previous part here)
.
Wakanda was seven hours ahead of New York City, where the former Avengers Tower was. It was also seven hours ahead of upstate New York, which was where the former Avengers compound had been located, and of Washington D.C., which could also be where Tony Stark was.
In any case, no matter where Tony Stark was, so long as he was on the eastern seaboard, he should be only seven hours behind Wakanda’s current time, which is why T’Challa had waited until two hours after dinner – and after dealing with Tony Stark’s newest gift – to attempt to call the man personally. Tony Stark had given his phone number before this, and T’Challa had attempted to call, only to have a message taken by Tony’s AI, but hopefully this time Tony would pick up – or the AI would transfer his call.
“Hello, and thank you for calling Dr. Anthony Stark’s personal phone. One moment please.”
The voice was soft and pleasant, with a slight accent T’Challa was hard put to place. He waited, hoping he would actually hear Tony’s voice again.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Anthony Stark is currently unavailable. If you would like to leave a message, I can ensure that Dr. Stark receives it in a timely fashion.”
T’Challa sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course. Please let Mr. Stark—”
“One moment please.”
Cut off, T’Challa paused and listened to the click of the line connecting.
“Your highness?”
With a relieved chuckle, T’Challa shook his head. “I did ask you to use my name, Anthony.”
“T’Challa,” Tony replied, and there was something like excitement in his voice. “I – did you get… did she make it?”
“Trying to pass me off beautiful women? That won’t deter me from pursuing you, I hope you realize.”
Tony laughed, and it was such a genuinely happy sound that T’Challa felt his heart warm inside his chest. “She’s very good at handling students at Xavier’s; I thought she might help… other people figure out how to drill their powers.”
“She’s very welcome here, of course. Ms. Munroe has already gotten in league with my sister,” T’Challa replied.
“I remember her highness,” Tony said, and his voice was somehow both dry and fond. “She’s given me one or five good kick in the seat of my pants.”
Grinning, T’Challa leaned back in his chair. “I hope my present arrived today.”
It gave Tony pause, and when he next spoke, there was something – shy? Surprised? Touched? – in his voice. “It’s very beautiful,” he said quietly.
Nervous, now, T’Challa explained, “The chain is, of course, rose gold, and the colors reminded me of your strength, and your commitment. It should not interfere with your engineer work, as it hangs low on the chest.”
“It’s perfect, T’Challa. I really – I really like it. Thank you.” Tony cleared his throat, and then he said, almost too casually, “Was this – the call, just saying hi, or, or thank you?”
T’Challa relaxed in the seat. “I do not know how much time before your lunch break ends, but I simply wished to hear your voice.”
There was a long pause, and then Tony let out a bark of laughter. “I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say.”
T’Challa laughed, and moved over to pull his papers in front of him. “My engineers are trying to pull vibranium into wire cords, to weave with.”
“What? Why?” Tony asked, sounding completely taken aback.
“You know, I never got a straight answer besides the fact that they wanted to see if they could.”
“Well, that’s not going to do it,” Tony said, sounding annoyed. “Surely they looked into the chemical composition of vibranium. It’s simple science. It’ll get brittle, it won’t hold.”
“They’re trying to justify it by saying that they want to see if they can make jewelry, I believe, since trinkets and the like are a good way to increase tourism, and with Wakanda slowly opening its borders, they want something unique to the country itself.”
“If they made it an alloy… but if the point is to make a luxury item that people would buy, you couldn’t just pull in any old metal.”
T’Challa just sat back and listened to Tony talk, enamored by the immediate problem-solving Tony had going on.
***
“You sent him how many chocolates?”
T’Challa didn’t look up, because he knew if he did Shuri would see him blushing. “Do you have what I asked for?”
She let out a small laugh and placed the reports on his desk. “You should visit him sometime. Or have him visit here.”
***
“Tiger lilies?”
“They remind me of you,” T’Challa said, a little embarrassed.
“They filled the entire living room. Do you know how large my living room is, T’Challa?”
T’Challa felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. “You sent me roses. Beautiful roses, in many colors and styles and I loved them very much. I am currently in the executive office of the King of Wakanda, Anthony. Your roses covered every flat service in the formal sitting room, the informal sitting room, and the library.”
There was a moment of hesitation, and then Tony cleared his throat over the phone. “Too much?”
“I took two vases to my room, and one to my office,” T’Challa confessed.
Fond warmth and a little shyness colored Tony’s voice when he replied, “I moved most of the lilies to my workshop. Some in – in my bedroom, too.”
“We do make a pair,” T’Challa laughed.
***
The video screen fuzzed a little and then Tony’s face appeared, sitting in his office. On his wrist was the watch T’Challa had bought him, and on his desk—
Tony caught the direction of T’Challa’s gaze and he colored a little. “I like it,” he said defensively.
It was a stuffed black panther, green glass eyes gazing out under tufts of silky black fur eyebrows, its body curled in a circle around a bright red heart that read ‘Paws-atively amazing!’ T’Challa had special ordered it, using some of the softest materials, and it should have arrived yesterday.
The bigger gift would be there today.
Well, bigger relatively speaking.
“How are you doing today?” Tony asked, absently putting his hand on the stuffed animal.
T’Challa smiled gently, lifted his hand to show off the beautiful, stunning cufflinks and the handcrafted watch he was wearing. “I’m greatly enjoying these lovely presents I received the other day.”
Tony looked smug, and pleased, as he murmured, “It looks good on you.”
“Of course it does,” T’Challa said, content. “You picked it.”
***
T’Challa saw the exhaustion in Tony’s face, and ached to actually reach up and stroke the man’s face, wishing to bring him to bed, to soothe the man’s nervous energy and calm his beloved down. As it stood, Tony was winding down anyway. It was ten in the morning, which meant it was three in the morning where Tony was, and from T’Challa’s understanding, Tony hadn’t slept for very long.
“Why don’t you head up to your bedroom?” T’Challa murmured, interrupting Tony when he realized Tony was stuttering over a concept, repeating it two or three times as he tried to force his brain to work. “We can still talk there. Your hands are shaking, katana yam.”
Tony stumbled to a stop and rubbed the back of his hand harshly across his eyes. “Yeah, I guess,” he said finally, voice a hoarse croak. “Okay. Are you – I’m bothering you, aren’t I? I should—”
“No, Anthony, you are not bothering me at all. I am very happy to speak with you.”
Tony licked his lips, and then sighed, shoulders curving inwards. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Okay. FRIDAY, have the video call follow me, yeah?”
“Of course boss.” The voice was that same softly accented female voice, Tony’s AI.
Tony made his slow way to his bedroom. It was strangely intimate, watching Tony get ready for bed, watching Tony drink another cup of black coffee, watching Tony pull off his tank, baring his scarred chest. As he watched, T’Challa made small talk, discussing day-to-day things about his work and his country, keeping up the background noise.
The older man sat down on the edge of his large bed, staring out at nothing, and T’Challa’s heart ached for the emptiness in Tony’s room, in Tony’s life.
“Lie down, Anthony, katana yam. Lie down.”
“The bed’s cold,” Tony whispered.
“I know, Anthony,” T’Challa coaxed. “I see the blanket, there, the red one. Take it, wrap it around you. My mother used to sing lullabies to me. Did she do the same for you?”
Tony’s mouth curled a little into a smile, and he was slowly turning into a little wrap in the middle of the bed. “She would sing all the time. I don’t remember lullabies, though.”
“Close your eyes, katana.”
It had been a long time, remembering back to his own mother who had passed away when he was still very young, but he could pull out some small songs he remembered, the tunes he could remember his father singing to him and his sister.
His voice wasn’t anything special, of course – he wasn’t a singer, and he didn’t think of himself as one, but Tony wanted his voice, wanted someone there.
Soon, he hoped. Soon, he could actually be there with Tony.
***
Tony was up late, again, but this time he wasn’t slowing down, was nervous and jittery. T’Challa had seen him like that before, and that type of energy wasn’t going to go anywhere. T’Challa might not be an engineer in the way Tony was – mechanical, robotic – but he was extremely good with software and with neurology and biology. He couldn’t follow Tony’s specific jargon, but he certainly understood the broader picture, could follow everything else. And perhaps he didn’t have the specific knowledge Tony had, in terms of metal stress numbers and alloys, but he definitely understood programming and electrical relays.
As it was, he did have a meeting at noon, and it was nearly time to end the call. He hadn’t managed to slow or work Tony down, and he himself knew there were times where inspiration or work had a hold of you. He’d call Tony closer to his dinner time, and perhaps Tony would be sleeping.
Hopefully, Tony would be sleeping. Tony didn’t sleep enough, and with each new video call T’Challa only saw Tony getting more and more worn down.
“Anthony. Tony.”
Tony looked up from where he’d been soldering. He blinked, and then grinned ruefully, the bags beneath his eyes making the brown of them seem darker, black. “It’s late for me; what time is it for you?”
“Nearly noon,” T’Challa said, laughing a little. “I’ll talk to you later, beloved. Do try to drink one of your smoothies.”
“No promises,” Tony chuckled. “Go, be a ruler, your highness.”
T’Challa kissed the tips of his fingers and touched the edge of the camera before ending the phone call. Gathering his paperwork on the Accords – yet another draft, and soon there’d be another in-person meeting, another point where they’d discuss and negotiate again – he moved to his door and opened it.
To see Steve Rogers standing there, hand raised to knock.
“Captain,” he said quietly, voice level. “I did not expect to see you here.”
“I had some questions to ask about – about Bucky, and some – was that Tony?”
T’Challa held Rogers’s gaze for a long minute, trying to figure out what prompted such a strange question. Of course, if Rogers had been standing there a while, he would have heard Tony speaking – T’Challa loved to hear Tony explain things, or talk out his thought process.
“Does it matter if it was?” he finally asked.
Rogers shifted a bit, and T’Challa was once more struck by just how young the Captain was. “Well – does he know we’re here? Is he calling because – is he trying to find us?”
T’Challa let the silence stretch out a bit more before saying, eyebrow raised, “I am sure he knew immediately where you were, Captain Rogers. He is not an unintelligent man. There are very few places you and the others could hide. But no, he was not asking after you. If you must know, he was talking to me.”
Rogers’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Did you need something, Rogers?”
“Yes – your highness, I just – I found some, some technology and some methods, to help Bucky. I wanted to bring it to you, since Natasha is not as familiar with the biological sciences as you are,” Rogers said, swallowing, and then he continued, “But I am – I am worried. That Tony – that Stark is looking for us, talking to you.”
T’Challa fought to keep his eyes from rolling, and exited the office, closing the door of behind him and walking down the hallway. “I fail to see why it’s your business, but Tony is talking to me because I am courting him.”
Rogers, who had been following T’Challa down the hallway, froze, allowing T’Challa to get ahead of him. Unfortunately, Rogers jogged to get back by T’Challa’s side when he finally recovered. “Tony – you? You two? That’s – sudden.”
Those words reminded T’Challa about what Romanoff had said, who Tony had a crush on, before. He paused, and turned to face Rogers, letting his conviction and, yes, strength and threat shine clear in his face, his tone, his eyes. “It is not as sudden as you think, but that is also none of your business. Tony deserves the world, Captain Rogers, and I firmly intend to show him I can give it to him. It is time for Tony to have someone care for him as much as someone can.”
Rogers licked his lips, and his eyes dropped down before coming back up. “You know.”
“I do. In fact, Tony thought you had put me up to it, to courting him, and it took me a while to prove him wrong. I do not need others dictating my actions. I do what I do because I want to. And I want Tony.”
“He’s not a thing to, to claim,” Rogers said, indignant and belligerent.
T’Challa smiled, and it wasn’t a very nice or kind smile. “You are right. Neither is he a thing to discard, but I haven’t done either one, of course.” The words unlike you went unspoken.
Rogers started to open his mouth again, and T’Challa stepped forward, into Rogers’s space, making Rogers put his shoulders up. “Dear Captain, I reiterate – this is none of your business. What Tony chooses to do with me is his business, and his alone. You have no voice in this. Am I clear?”
For a brief heartbeat, T’Challa was sure Rogers was going to continue to pursue the conversation, and he was ready to let loose his anger, his pent-up frustration with Rogers – probably undeserved, but he was not willing to remain patient with someone who was so stubbornly sure they were right and deserved everything to bow their way.
But Rogers slowly blew out his breath and inclined his head. “I passed the technology on to the Princess; when you have time, it may help Bucky and get us off your hands.”
“When I have time,” T’Challa agreed, voice flat.
Clearing his throat, Rogers bobbed his head, turned on his heel, and left.
192 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Behind the scenes
4K notes · View notes
Text
The Care and Wooing of Tony Stark, Billionaire
Part 3 of ? (Ao3 link here) (previous part here)
.
“You certainly seem agreeable. And you seem to have had a productive week, as well,” Shuri commented, bringing the mail to him the day after he returned to Wakanda.
“You are the one who encouraged me to go,” he reminded her.
With a huff, she shook her head and dumped the mail over the papers he had been reading over. “So smug, so arrogant,” she teased. “Yet you return empty-handed.”
“The patient hunter is the successful hunter,” he murmured. “Besides, I worry about him. He is being run ragged by his responsibilities, and I doubt he takes much time to rest.”
Shuri paused, and then a pleased smile came over her face. “But of course, you are too wise to do the same to yourself. That is why you have gone to bed at a decent hour for these past few months, why you’ve remembered to join your current houseguests and your household for dinner and breakfast, why the past few months have more to a summary than your work with the Council, your petition hearings, and your work on the Accords?”
Leaning back in his chair, he eyed her a minute before smiling. “I’m in too good of a mood to let you upset me,” he replied mildly. “Is it lunch yet?”
“Lunch is more of an open time, as you know, but yes, the kitchen has prepared the lunch meal. I think most of your guests have eaten already, or are in the process of eating. Will you be joining them today?”
“I think I will,” T’Challa murmured, remembering Tony Stark’s words about Romanoff and Rogers. “Certainly, there are people I would like to speak to, at the very least.”
Shuri rolled her eyes and moved to the door. “Your Council would like to speak to you this afternoon. They are not very pleased with your… political refugees.”
“I am ready to speak to them, of course,” T’Challa sighed. He only hated about eighty percent of the Council, at least. Better than the way he hated practically one hundred percent of petition days, mostly because the upper class always tried to horn in on it. Petitions were symbolic, of course; most people who came to the petitions didn’t have seriously important issues to bring before the king. The idea was that anyone could bring a petition to the king, and have it heard. The problem was that too many people who already had his ear and his time tried to shove their petitions through, and it frustrated him.
Another problem to deal with, but he if he could speak to Rogers and Romanoff about Tony, he could do it. He was more looking forward to speaking with Romanoff, particularly – she was both a worthy opponent and someone who understood political intrigue and intricacies. Rogers, for all that he was a good war leader and excellent strategist, had not the diplomacy or maturity to consider multiple points of view.
…T’Challa was too young to be acting this old.
Heaving another sigh, he stood up and exited his office. There was a dining room area, of course – a long table, and an almost buffet-style lunch set-up – but he made his way to the kitchen to see if he could sneak out some of the best desserts the kitchen always had saved up for the dinner meal.
When he stepped into the kitchens, he found that the dessert that night would be a particular favorite of his: a Moroccan sweet made of toasted grains and honey. However, it was not like a cake or a pastry, where the batter was easy to sneak. Chased out of the kitchen by his cooks, he made his way into the dining area and nearly walked into Romanoff.
“Your highness,” she said, eyes widening in the only giveaway that she was surprised. “It’s interesting to see you down here.”
“Yes,” he said gravely, moving over to the table and taking a plate, serving himself from the covered, warming plates that had cuts of lamb, rich curries, rolled leaves stuffed with pine nuts and richly seasoned goat. “My sister has taken me to task for missing too many meals.”
Romanoff’s eyes warmed as she stood off to the side – there were others of his household, two nieces and a second cousin, sitting at the table and chattering with one another, ignoring the two of them – and she replied, “Well, this is only the third time I’ve seen you eat with others. The princess and the Dora Milaje so often bring food to you. But you were out of the country this past week or two?”
“Mmm,” he murmured, sitting down with his plate and taking the silverware in hand. “Another draft of the Accords, more debating and negotiating. I would fax in my changes, and video conference every so often, but I decided a personal touch was needed.”
His answer clearly surprised her; she visibly flinched a little, and then moved over to take a small plate, put a few finger foods on it, and sat down. T’Challa was patient; he knew Romanoff had been anxiously searching for news on Tony and on the Accords, and he had deliberately not put his money or his support to allow them to reconnect with the world. Ross’s press against Wakanda had not stopped, even now – he knew if he put any of his tech or resources in the rogue Avengers’ hands, and Ross found them, the United States would have legitimate grievance against Wakanda. T’Challa wasn’t going to give them that opening, which meant that he knew Romanoff had been slipping through the borders with passports she owned, and that she’d been trying to gather information while Ross was actively searching for her, more so than some of the other rogues because she had switched sides.
She sighed, and he knew she had decided to give in to her curiosity. “I didn’t know you were still working on the Accords, what with taking Steve in, and his ragtag group.”
“That includes you,” he remarked casually, taking a forkful of the lamb stew on top of the pilaf.
“True,” she murmured, and took a bite of the meat-filled pastry. “Does Steve know you’re still working on the Accords?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her, distinctly unimpressed. “I do not consult Steve Rogers for anything, Romanoff. Least of all working on the Accords my father and I drafted – and the Accords have their place. They are important. I have not changed my position from their necessity.”
With a small hum, she nodded, and then let out a small breath. “How is Tony?”
He looked up from his food, his serious gaze meeting her hopeful one. “He’s exhausted. Pushed to the limit. And he is alone.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it, her eyes falling shut. “He’s strong. One of the strongest civilians I’ve ever seen.”
“No human can be strong on their own forever,” T’Challa said, almost bluntly.
“He’s not on his own. He has—”
She stopped, voice trailing off, and grimaced. He didn’t even look at her, focusing on his food, and she huffed. “Alright, you can stop being smug. But he does have Vision and Spiderman, you know. He doesn’t have to do it on his own.”
“Be that as it may, he is tired. The time we had together, I worked to undo the wear and tear, but he has no one keeping him grounded. He is a workaholic, and I hope to convince him to slow down.”
“Slightly ironic, coming from someone who’s stayed locked in his office working,” Romanoff muttered under her breath, and set her meat pastry down, delicately wiping her fingers on the napkins placed on the table. “You brought this up for a reason, though.”
He inclined his head, pouring himself a glass of sparkling water and taking a sip. “I did,” he admitted. “Tony asked whether you or Rogers put me up to court him.”
“You’re – courting him?” Romanoff said, and that was the first genuine surprise and shock he’d seen from her, ever.
With a chuckle, T’Challa set the cup down. “Yes. I am aware he is older than I, but I admire him greatly, and he is very brilliant.”
“I’m sorry – I didn’t – he asked whether I put you up to it? To courting him?” she asked.
He hummed his agreement. “You, or Rogers.”
She frowned at her plate, and shook her head slowly. “Me, maybe. I was – well, I had tried to get him to move on his crush after Pepper broke up with him. But why Rogers?”
“You told him to move on?” T’Challa asked, feeling slightly guilty about talking about Tony with someone who, in essence, deserted him.
She laughed a little, unbending from her very cool, very professional demeanor she had always had with T’Challa. “I seem to be the matchmaker on the team. I think it’s necessary, because if people are getting regularly laid it cuts down on the gripping tension that always seems to run underneath everything.”
He opened his mouth to ask and hesitated. It wasn’t any of his business, not really.
She, of course, realized almost immediately what he had been about to ask. “That’s why I was – surprised, at what you said he said. Because I would try to tell him to talk to his crush, to start up a relationship. It never went anywhere, but… I have a feeling his crush knew about Tony’s feelings. Whether he felt the same back or not—”
“He?” T’Challa asked, lifting an eyebrow. It was both a good sign and a bad one; good, that Tony still was interested in men (in his wilder youth, T’Challa had seen more than one man in Tony’s bed, but that had calmed down as he grew older), and bad, in that it was obviously someone Tony saw often if Romanoff not only picked up on it but encouraged Tony to talk to whoever it was.
Romanoff pushed away from the table and stood up. “Rogers,” she admitted. “He had a crush on Rogers.”
***
Back in his office, he considered his options.
Well, that was misleading. Considering his options made it sound like he was thinking about backing out, and he most definitely wasn’t thinking about that. But he was taking this new information, putting into place the desperate need and nervous energy he had seen in Tony in the conflict that had happened with the Accords, understanding the interplay between Tony’s interactions with the Captain, from the first conflict with chasing Barnes down to the last, terrible conflict in Siberia.
That explained… a lot more of Tony Stark’s actions, and it also somehow explained less.
Regardless, he knew now that Tony had feelings for Rogers. He’d seen Captain Rogers a few times since putting Barnes back into cryo-sleep, enough to form opinions about the young man. And young man was the correct term; Rogers was naïve, in a way – certain in his rightness, in his ability to make the world be fair, in his capability to force people into the mold he deemed was acceptable. He was, above all else, someone who fought for what he believed was right. Yet his stubbornness made it difficult for him to do anything other than always believe he knew best, no matter the situation. Even in cases where he had little to no experience, he still remained skeptical of other people’s opinions and recommendations. T’Challa had respected the Captain’s ability to follow through, but had definitely seen the flaw in Rogers’s way of thinking.
This is what he was up against, in Tony’s mind. This was who he’d have to define himself against, contrast himself to, in order to make sure that Tony was not still pining for someone who did not appreciate him or his genius.
…And T’Challa was biased himself, in his own way, but he figured he could be forgiven for being protective of Tony at this point.
Of course, Romanoff had said she had tried to talk Tony into speaking to Rogers, and that she thought Rogers knew about the crush, but T’Challa could hear in between that. It was entirely likely that Rogers was wholly unaware of Tony’s feelings, and equally as likely that he knew but did not feel the same way, and so never broached the topic.
In any case, none of this altered his plan one iota, only let him know he was going to be very possessive of Tony should he ever successfully get Tony to come to Wakanda for a visit.
Shuri entered, this time with an eyebrow raised. “Do I want to know?” she asked, handing him a message – confirmation from his order.
To her credit, he blushed ever so slightly, and shook his head. “You don’t disapprove of the match, so allow me to pursue him as I see fit.”
“I don’t know if I approve, either,” she said, and for the first time her voice was serious, less teasing little sister and more princess, leader of the people, and current Black Panther. “While I admit I expected you to dally with him, you haven’t been serious about someone in years. He’s easily ten years older than you – more, if you think about it. He has multiple obligations that can be at odds with your own. You are both stubborn, fiercely intelligent, and unlikely to yield even when you may be wrong. I can see that the eleven days with him was not enough for you, but I worry you want too much.”
He met her gaze, searching for the right words that would explain. “When I first heard about him, I was twelve, and his paper on the theoretical method to purify saltwater cheaply seemed so simplistic, I couldn’t understand why everyone else wasn’t using it. I came to realize that his degrees were all in robotics, not the wet sciences of biology and the natural world, and his paper was seen as an overreach, someone using their money to get published instead of their merits. I began reading his other papers, and many of the concepts were extremely advanced. His work has always had a delicacy that intrigued me, Shuri.”
“I am not asking about your childhood crush, or your current admiration,” she said, and he remembered abruptly that Shuri had always been picked to be the Black Panther. He may have worn the mantle, briefly, to hunt down his father’s killer, but her aggression and dedication to the hunt had made her the clear choice, while his heart and his steadiness had made him the clear choice for successor to the throne. “I am asking about the man he is today, and the man you are today.”
“Tony Stark is someone I could see myself marrying,” he said, finally, baldly. “He is on my level, and understands obligation. He knows when to bow to pressure and when to take a stand. He is a good match, and I believe he is worthwhile in pursuing. I want to give him peace, Shuri.”
After a long moment, she sighed and shook her head ruefully. “I don’t know why I thought this would be a simple affair,” she lamented, rolling her eyes up at the sky.
“I don’t know why, either,” he muttered.
Clucking her tongue, she slapped the back of his head – gently. “You could never do things by halves. Invite him over some time. He is more behaved since Iron Man, and I feel I will like him a little more now.”
At the doorway, she stopped and remarked, “You have a gift waiting for you.”
T’Challa let out a sigh. “What is it this time?” he said, dreading the answer a little.
“Not what. Who.”
95 notes · View notes
Note
prompt: "i'm trying very hard not to see this as a metaphor for my life" IronPanther? WinterIron? (please not both at the same time)
i’m not sure what you mean by “not both at the same time” so if you could please send me another msg anon, that’d be great.
i did a little ironpanther for this though.
“Babe, they say life is like a maze in which you try toavoid the exit.” T’Challa stared blankly at his lover, waiting for him tocontinue the random train of thought. “……You know…. I’m trying very hard not tosee this as a metaphor for my life.”
“Sweetheart, I think this would apply better to you if youdid not actively search out that damn exit sign.”
They were in the hospital because Tony had gotten injured.
It was a quiet day at home at home and Tony had looked atthe quiet Sunday as a day for cleaning. He started off stating, “It’s today, I canfeel it, today’s the day for spring cleaning.” After throwing on some oldclothes he ran off in search of cleaning supplies.
After assembling varying types of dusters, the vacuumcleaner, and a mop and bucket, he was ready to start his day. He started offdusting every possible surface, climbing on furniture to reach things up highand making sure he got every nook and cranny of the house. At one point T’Challahad seen him dragging a chair along behind him, just working his way around theroom. After that he get some water and soap ready to mop the floors, scrubbingfuriously at the floors until they shined.
Now, how is it that he never once wobbled on that damn chairthe whole time he was dusting? Or better yet, having no problem at all on theslippery wet floors. No, somehow while Tony was vacuuming, he got tangled up inthe cord and tripped and fell.
The crash and yell had T’Challa running into the room tocheck on his lover. Tony was on the ground leaning back on his palms andlooking up at him. “It’s okay, I’m fine.” When he went to stand up, the secondhe put pressure on his right ankle he yelped. “Ah! Shit, nope, not fine. Notfine at all, babe help me.”
And that’s how they ended up here, in the hospital, waitingfor the doctor to bring his idiot genius some crutches.
“Why the long face T’Challa?”
Looking through his fingers, a halfhearted glare directed atthe brunette, “You…..will be the death of me.” Tony just gave him a big cheekygrin.
126 notes · View notes
Text
The Care and Wooing of Tony Stark, Billionaire 
Part 2 of ? (Ao3 link here) (previous part here)
When he met Tony Stark for the first time since allowing the Captain and his friend into Wakanda, T’Challa’s first thought was that Mr. Stark needed a warm bath and something hot and meaty to put weight back on his gangly frame. His second was deep-set annoyance that Shuri was right – he had needed the nudge in this direction.
He hadn’t told any of his current ‘houseguests,’ as Shuri called them, that he would be here, or that he had been working on the rewording and reworking of the Accords. He didn’t need to – he knew that of the group, two of them were Tony Stark’s worst enemies, two of them believed in Tony Stark but believed in someone else (the Captain) more, and the others never even spoke his name, as if deliberately trying to ignore their former teammate. T’Challa himself had only worked with Tony Stark in person when trying to hunt down Captain Rogers and his rag-tag band of misfits. At that time, his focus had been on making sure his father’s killer had been brought to justice and made to answer for the death; he’d not interacted with Stark all that much. He really hadn’t been able to, actually – he’d interacted more with Rhodes and Romanoff than Stark, simply by virtue of the fact that any time Ross yelled (and that narrow-minded, pitiful man was exactly what T’Challa had expected of America, but that was neither here nor there) Stark had to go play court to the Secretary of State. Those few months ago, he remembered being vaguely worried about Stark, and what Ross would do when they failed to bring Captain Rogers and his team.
Now, he could see the weariness and worry on Tony’s face. To T’Challa’s credit, he kept himself from reacting. Tony Stark, however, did a small double-take at seeing T’Challa there. And only because he was looking (damn you Shuri) did he see the faint flush in Tony’s cheeks, the way Tony’s – argh, Stark – Stark’s eyes lingered on his form.
“Your highness, I certainly didn’t expect to see you here,” Tony Stark said, reaching out to shake T’Challa’s hand. Patting T’Challa’s arm, Tony smiled, and it brought genuine relief and warmth to his face. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Good to see you as well, Mr. Stark,” T’Challa replied, feeling the smile take over his face, and he mentally praised his dark skin from keeping his blush from showing.
Tony scoffed, chuckling. “Tony, please. Mr. Stark is – my father,” he said, trailing off. Licking his lips nervously, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “But I didn’t think you were interested in working on the Accord’s edits in person You’ve been effectively faxing and communicating from your stronghold in Wakanda. I assumed you were… busy with other matters.”
Well, he’d never get a better opportunity than this. “I could never be too busy to speak with you, Anthony,” he murmured, winking, and then turned to take a seat in the room.
Tony stood there, flabbergasted, before more people entered the room and he took a seat next to T’Challa.
There were seven other people in the meeting, representing the bigger names in the UN, and they got down to business. There were plenty of agendas in the room, and the representatives from Russia and France particularly seemed against the many changes Tony had introduced. Reading the document that Tony had brought – and why Ross wasn’t here, or at least the American representative, instead of Tony Stark, it was never explained – T’Challa had to admit Tony had the right idea, though it was still too permissive, put too much power in the hands of the superheroes, allowing them to violate state sovereignty too easily.
The discussion was the first of many, of course – the Accords was hundreds of pages long, and they were looking at a small section of one of the many articles. There was another week and a half scheduled to discuss and debate changes. But when they broke for lunch, T’Challa took Tony’s elbow and linked their arms, surprising Tony once again.
“Come. We will go eat lunch, my treat,” he said, leading Tony out of the building and into his waiting limo.
Tony looked about him, taken aback. “You realize I have my own transportation, right?”
This would be – very bold, very forward, but, well, T’Challa didn’t come here to go halfway, and if there was one good thing about his personality, it was that once he decided to do something, he committed. Taking Tony’s hand, he rubbed a thumb gently over his knuckles, a slow, deliberate motion that Tony unconsciously focused on, his breathing slowing. When Tony finally lifted his gaze to meet T’Challa’s eyes, T’Challa smiled fondly at him. “I know, Anthony Stark. But I would like to pamper you today, if you would allow it.”
It looked as if Tony were about to leap from the car, jerk away – any number of violent things. Certainly his breathing sped up, eyes dilating, and his hand tensed under T’Challa’s touch. After a few seconds, Tony let out a decidedly fake laugh and looked away from T’Challa’s face. “I’d think I’m the last person you should be pampering, but what the hell. I haven’t been in Geneva since I was thirty-one, I think. You can show me a good place to eat.”
Kissing Tony’s knuckles would be too much; instead, T’Challa hummed under his breath and waited for his driver to pull up to one of the finest restaurants he’d visited in Switzerland.
Tony continued to look like he was expecting the rug to be pulled out from underneath him. Throughout the decadent meal, the walk through a private art collection, and T’Challa taking Tony to a stunningly beautiful restaurant that overlooked the lake at sunset, though, Tony gradually relaxed more and more. By the end of the meal, Tony no longer looked hunted, and he leaned back from his plate with a sigh.
“I think I’ve eaten more today than I have all week,” he joked, shaking his head. “I can’t see why you’re doing this, though.”
T’Challa could believe that this was the best Tony had eaten, especially considering how much the normally tailored suits hunt on his frame, and how quickly Tony had devoured the food, but he said nothing at all of it. Instead, he let out a soft sigh, staring out over the purpling sky. “Well, let’s just say that there’s not much one can gift a rich man, but peace of mind is one of the few things everyone needs at some point.”
Let it not be said that Tony was slow on the uptake; his face twisted and he sighed. “You got those gifts.��
“I feel I only got a few of the ones you intended to send me,” T’Challa murmured. “Those that I received—”
“I’m – look you can forget about them, T’Challa – your majesty – I’m sorry. They’re probably very paltry, considering that you could buy what I give you a hundred times over and not notice. I didn’t realize Pepper was sending them, and when I did – well—”
T’Challa leaned forward, across the table, and took Tony’s hand, effectively interrupting Tony’s babble. “Anthony,” he said gravely, not letting his eyes drop from Tony’s gaze, letting the seriousness and sincerity of his words come through to the older man in voice and tone, “too often, we do not get the gifts, the kindness, or the trinkets others take for granted, because everyone assumes we can buy what we want for ourselves. It was a treat to receive the gifts, and I enjoyed them very much.”
Tony’s mouth slowly closed, and then he flexed his hand in T’Challa’s grip and said, a bit hoarsely, “You barely know me, your majesty—”
“Please, T’Challa is my name. I find myself missing hearing others say it,” T’Challa interrupted quietly.
Tony shook his head, as if not sure what to say to that, and continued, “You barely know me, and you didn’t really speak to me before, and honestly I had more conversations with your sister than with you, and I don’t know where this is coming from, I don’t know if you talked to Romanoff or St – or Rogers, but if this is pity, I don’t need it, and if it’s something else—”
“Tony,” T’Challa cut Tony off, rubbing his thumb over Tony’s knuckles again. “I want to be clear with you, right now – I find you attractive, mind and body. I am interested in pursuing a relationship with you, if you are amenable. If you are not, it is a simple matter. But I found you attractive when we first met, and despite our circumstances and our meeting, nothing has changed my opinion about you as a hardworking, dedicated servant of the people.”
Tony’s eyes were wide, and he croaked out, “I think you may just have confused me with someone else.”
“Where are you staying tonight?” T’Challa asked, attempting to turn the conversation towards something more positive.
Tony narrowed his eyes at T’Challa, as if considering something, and then shrugged his shoulders, overly casual. “The Beau-Rivage.”
“You look tired, and we both will have a trying day tomorrow with the talks,” T’Challa decided, standing up and helping Tony to his feet. “You need rest, and relaxation, my friend.”
Tony leered, though it was a mere shadow of a true expression, and T’Challa realized Tony had taken T’Challa’s words to mean they were going back to Tony’s hotel room for sex. “I’m always up for more relaxation, of course,” Tony purred.
It was a tactic T’Challa had seen before, thinking of one’s body as a weapon as much as one’s money or name or resources, and so he simply smiled and inquired about Tony’s current projects, his efforts in clean energy. It gave them both something neutral to talk about, and Tony lost some of that practiced veneer as he explained his tactics and methods.
When T’Challa’s limousine pulled up in front of the hotel, T’Challa exited the car and aided Tony out onto the curb, the city sounds and lights around them, the scent of the lake and the soft cawing of the gulls in the backdrop. Gently, allowing Tony time to pull away, T’Challa cradled Tony’s face and kissed him, chastely, tenderly. When he pulled back, Tony’s lashes brushed against T’Challa’s cheeks, and Tony’s eyes were wide, pupils dilated.
“I had a wonderful evening, Anthony,” T’Challa rumbled. “I look forward to seeing you the rest of this week.”
Confusion stole across Tony’s features, but T’Challa stepped back, pressed his lips to Tony’s knuckles, and began to get back into the car.
“Wait – where are you going?”
T’Challa paused, and smiled. “I did not know where you were staying, but I am staying at the d’Angleterre – down the street. It seems a waste to already have a room and not use it, so I will be returning there. I meant what I said, Anthony – you deserve rest. I heard very good things about the Beau-Rivage. Take advantage of their massage services. Relax a little. You have worked so hard for so many, it is important to take the comforts when you can.”
Stunned, Tony stood on the curb as the limo pulled away, turned and then made its way to T’Challa’s hotel.
He had meant what he had said to Tony; he hadn’t known Tony was staying at the Beau-Rivage, and honestly he was glad to have this small separation, even if it was only a few minutes’ walk between the two hotels. It gave him time to think, to plan. He wanted to pamper Tony to the best of his ability, and so as he entered his hotel room he looked up his first plan to woo and court Tony Stark. Tomorrow, he’d see how his present would be received, and he could adjust his plans accordingly.
Though it was odd that Tony would think he’d been speaking with Romanoff and Rogers. T’Challa had seen that Tony respected Rogers and Romanoff deeply, and it had wounded Tony to go against Rogers – and it had deeply cut Tony when Romanoff allowed them to escape. At the time, T’Challa had been furious himself with Romanoff, and had not noticed much else, and Tony had been overseeing Colonel Rhodes’s medical care – T’Challa would need to look into that, see if there was anything he could help with there – but he had seen the tightness, the barely concealed panic and wounded, hunted look in Tony’s face and shoulders.
He could always ask Romanoff when he returned to Wakanda. Or Rogers, though Rogers spent much of his time outside of Wakanda, searching for answers to cure his friend of any latent triggers.
He arranged for his gift to be delivered in the morning, called the Beau-Rivage to see if Tony had booked a massage – he had not – and then booked a massage for Tony and told the staff to see to it that Tony received the massage before he went to bed, and reviewed the notes he took during that morning’s debate. They had more debating to do tomorrow, and he wanted to be well-acquainted with everyone’s agendas and goals he’d assessed that morning so that tomorrow would be more productive and aimed more at results rather than sizing one another up.
***
The debates dragged on longer, to the point where it was more mid-afternoon than noon when they broke for the day. T’Challa had only gotten to the conference room right before the negotiations and posturing began, enough to snag a seat near Tony but not early enough to get one directly next to Tony, the way he had hoped. On the way out of the conference room, he made his way quickly to Tony’s side, linking his arm with Tony’s, and he smiled at Tony’s little jerk of surprise.
“Did you enjoy the gift?” T’Challa asked curiously. “I find myself rather at a loss at what you would enjoy.”
“It was – your highness, it was unnecessary—”
T’Challa tsked. “I did ask for you to call me by my name. And I wanted to do it, so I did. It was not unnecessary for me.”
Tony blushed prettily, the darker rose coloring his skin and making him look younger, smoothing away the frown lines and wrinkles. “T’Challa. It was very – sweet.” In a softer voice, Tony murmured, “I loved it.”
“I personally enjoyed your flowers, and hoped my selection would equal your thoughtful gift. But come, you must have lunch with me. Then we will go boating. Have you ever driven a boat?”
“I can’t say that I have,” Tony said slowly. “I’m sure I own one, or did at some point… or maybe I don’t. Huh. I’m more of a flier.”
“We will both do something new today, then,” T’Challa chuckled. “Come, any requests? When in Geneva, I find myself eating almost exclusively French cuisine, but there are many other choices. Latin cuisine and Mediterranean cuisine, just to name the restaurants I know that are nearby.”
There was no answer from Tony, and T’Challa – who had been looking straight ahead as he walked Tony to his limo – turned his head to meet Tony’s bewildered gaze.
“Is there a problem, Tony?” T’Challa asked, modulating his voice so it was neither patronizing nor pointed.
Tony shrugged helplessly. “You filled my rooms with flowers this morning, and fresh fruit. You ordered me a massage last night. You took me out yesterday, and didn’t allow me to pay, and it looks like you’re about to do it again. You say you didn’t speak to Nat – to Romanoff, or R-Rogers, but you – I can’t explain what you’re doing.”
It was a simple matter to shift his body, to gently clasp Tony’s forearms, bring his lips close to Tony’s. “I will say it as often as you need it repeated, Anthony Stark. I am interested in pursuing a relationship with you. That is my motivation. I have read many of your papers, seen many of your products. I have respected all that I have seen.”
Tony made a face, and before he could say anything, T’Challa continued, “Yes, even the weapons. They were put together by a master craftsman. I will not play dumb, and I know quite a bit more about vibranium technology and biophysics than you do, but you are a master in your field, and it shows. I could not do half of the creating you have done so far. My interests lie elsewhere, and sometimes I regret I did not turn down the craftsman path the way you have.”
Licking his lips, Tony offered, “If you ever are in the States, you could stop by. See my workshop.”
“I imagine that would be lovely,” T’Challa answered, taking a step back as his limo pulled up and one of the Dora Milaje opened the door. “Will you join me for lunch today?”
With a shrug, Tony allowed himself to be led into the limo.
***
That set the standards of their relationship for the next ten days: lunch together, some form of sightseeing or an activity they would both enjoy, dinner together, and then a kiss in front of Tony’s hotel before T’Challa would leave. If they got to the meetings and talks early enough, they would discuss new scientific discoveries and papers, designs and uses for vibranium, even the concept of AIs and personhood. T’Challa had asked after Rhodes and given his condolences, offered some of the top scientists from Wakanda to look into regrowing and rebuilding Rhodes’s spinal column. Tony had asked after Barton and Lang, and, in a roundabout way, asked about their families. Since T’Challa knew Tony had already transported Barton’s and Lang’s families to Wakanda, even if the jet had been unmarked and commercially flown, T’Challa assumed he was asking more about whether the two men had settled in, and if they knew it had been Tony Stark to reunite them with their families. He also asked about Wanda Maximoff, though in a more obtuse manner, but T’Challa could see the anxiety and nervousness in Tony’s eyes. It was easy enough to put Tony’s fears to rest by mentioning the new housing he’d created for political refugees, and the training facilities he had for mutants within his country that often aided people who had been, willingly or unwillingly, given powers by science.
Tony asked about Steve Rogers once, James Barnes and Natasha Romanoff not at all. T’Challa filed that away in his head as he answered to the best of his knowledge about the Captain.
T’Challa noted many things during his discussions about the Accords as well as his time spent with Tony. Chief among his observations was that Tony genuinely wanted accountability, and wanted it done right, which often meant he bowed too quickly in the face of pressure from big-name countries that had a lot of weight to throw around, and often did so for no reason. The second most important observation was that Tony was a closet romantic, and T’Challa’s gifts of jewelry, roses, chocolates, and finely crafted tools were all received extremely well.
There were other small things, of course – T’Challa managed to figure out where the biggest pushback against the Accords was coming from, and where the biggest push forward to make the Accords too broad and too sweeping was coming from. He discovered that Tony spoke about no one casually, as in someone he spoke to regularly or saw regularly, not even Vision – and that worried T’Challa more than he cared to admit. He knew that Tony was providing for Rhodes’s time off with his family, and a physical therapist to help Rhodes regain mobility with Tony’s prosthetics. He knew that Ross was absent because his handling of the Raft and the situation with Captain America and the rogue Avengers brought into light some very questionable motives. He found out that Tony was touch-starved, and quite often a simple brush of fingers against the back of Tony’s hand or the curl of T’Challa’s hand around Tony’s elbow would bring the genius to a stuttering halt.
He found that he desperately wanted to pursue this new relationship, even though as the conference came to and end.
The last day of the discussion, with precious little finalized and more to go, T’Challa dropped Tony off at his hotel as always, but he lingered this time.
“Won’t you come up?” Tony asked, as he had periodically for the past ten days.
T’Challa sighed wistfully. “I can think of nothing better. However, I have plans to woo you properly, and I cannot do that by giving in to my base desires.”
“I’m not a blushing maiden, you realize,” Tony huffed.
T’Challa laughed, and bushed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth. “I could never mistake you for such a person, Anthony,” he purred. “But I do wish to draw this out, create enjoyment for yourself and myself. I look forward to video-conferencing with you, and to visiting your workshop in the near future. And you must also come to Wakanda, see the many sights we have to offer.”
“Definitely,” Tony murmured, and he hesitated. “I’m leaving before dawn tomorrow. I’ve been away from my work for too long.”
“This was important,” T’Challa pointed out, inclining his head. “But I understand. I too leave fairly early tomorrow morning.”
“I’d like—” Tony cut himself off, looked down.
With ten days of courtship and intimacy with Tony behind him, T’Challa felt comfortable to cradle Tony’s face, lift the older man’s face just a bit, pressing a kiss on his lips. “Yes? Anything I can do for you, Anthony, I will try.”
“You call me Tony, sometimes. And Anthony others,” Tony said, and it sounded as if he was trying to distract T’Challa from the main point, but T’Challa hummed against Tony’s lips.
“I do,” he responded, lips brushing over Tony’s before moving to skim over Tony’s cheek. “Anthony, I feel, conveys my respect and my fondness. But Tony, Tony is who you are comfortable being, playful and engaging and full of passion. If you would prefer me to drop one—”
“No, I – I like them. Both names. Both of them.” Tony cleared his throat.
T’Challa pulled back, ever so slightly. “What, katana yam?”
Heaving a sigh, Tony shook his head. “I’d like to hear from you,” he finally said. “When you have time.”
From the time it took for Tony to say it, and from Tony’s expression, T’Challa was sure that was not what he intended to ask. Still, he simply inclined his head. “Of course. As often as I can.”
With a jerky nod, Tony took a step back. “This week was nice,” he said.
Grinning, T’Challa released Tony’s arms and moved towards his limo. “Hopefully, there will be many more nice weeks to come. For now, go home and take a warm bath. Breathe. Always find time to breathe. Smell the roses, as they say.”
“You act like there’s time to do that,” Tony sighed, but the corner of his mouth crooked up in a smile. “I’ll try.”
T’Challa contented himself with that – and with the knowledge that he had more gifts he would be sending to Tony soon.
132 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The King of Wakanda 
44K notes · View notes
Note
Oh! Oh! Oh!! I have a prompt for this amazing pair! I love insecure!Tony. Tony shows his affection through presents. A car. An island. A really big bunny. But T'Challa is richer than him. So no presents are gonna be good enough. Tony can't build T'Challa something because he has his own scientists. And really, what can Tony provide a King? What sees T'Challa in him? Angst. Angst. And more angst please! I love this blog and can't wait! Thank you all!
and
Tony and t'challa accidentaly started a who can give the best gift contest btw each other and the gifts become incredibly sappy
and
I’m so happy about this blog!!! Anyway, I’d like to read something with jealous T'Challa (or even Tony, I don’t mind). Ok thanks!
and
Hye can I request for a possessively & obsessive Tchalla into making Tony his? The king suspecting Tony have some kind of secret feelings to a certain captain & that’s make Tchalla so determined to make Tony forget his affection for Steve. Let’s say Tchalla manage making Tony fall for him & Steve jealousy on the backgrounds. Thank you!
and
I think what I love the most out of this ship is the fact that T'challa is richer than Tony so Tony can be the one pampered and spoiled for a change (´∀`)♡ Can you imagine Tony the moment he realized oh shit my boyfriend is loaded and T'challa knowing that Tony is not used to be the receiving end of pampering and aims to remedy that thoroughly
and
Idk man I just want a fic with Steve being jealous as heck over T'challa’s new relationship with Tony because YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE AND YOU BLEW IT STEVE now I just want him to writhe over the fact that another man went and make Tony the happiest man in the world
and
anonymous asked: Jealous T'Challa?
The Care and Wooing of Tony Stark, Billionaire
Part 1 of ? (Ao3 link here)
T’Challafrowned at the knock on his door. He had expressly asked not to be disturbed,especially considering the various thinly veiled threats the AmericanSecretary of State was sending his way if he ‘chose not to aid in theapprehension of world criminals’ and the other numerous correspondence fromother countries in the UN that wanted his view on the Accords after thatdebacle at the airport. “Enter,” he said coolly.
Shuristepped in to the room and he felt his scowl darken even more. With others, hewould have to pretend calmness or acceptance, but Shuri was still his babysister and he was more than comfortable being upset at her interruption. She,however, smiled as serenely as she always did when getting under his skin.
“What?”he demanded, leaning forward on his father’s desk – his desk, now, and it stillhurt his heart sometimes, an odd jump that pulled at him unexpectedly.
Shekept her face smooth and calm as she said, “You have elephants on your frontlawn.”
Heopened his mouth and then closed it. He – had no idea what to say to that.
“Elephants?”he finally asked.
Shenodded, and that serenity cracked to show her amusement in her eyes.“Elephants. Baby elephants.”
Hefelt slightly shocked, and he wasn’t sure what he was expected to do. “Didthey… escape from the zoo?”
Hersmile was almost predatory when she handed him a small envelope.
Theenvelope wasn’t addressed in any particular way, the handwriting sharp andjerky, almost blocky. It had his name on it, but nothing else. He eyed it, andthen pulled it open.
Your Highness T’Challa,
I’m not quite sure ifelephants thrive or not – is that the right word, Friday, thrive? but theyseemed like a gift fit for a king. Also they’re orphaned elephants so it’s notlike I stole baby elephants or anything. I figured you could have small babiesrunning around and train them to be careful of the grounds. Do you have groundsthere big enough for an elephant? You might not, sorry. Well, shit, they’realready on their way, and they’re sponsored, so I guess if you just want to,you know, keep them around – or donate them to a zoo, whatever. Baby elephantsfor the ducklings under your wings, it made sense when I did it, you know what,you don’t even need to keep them, they came from Kenya, I’ll even pay for themto be taken back, just talk to the guys that brought them.
You know what, just, endmessage, Friday.
Dr. Anthony Edward Stark,VP of R&D and CTO of Stark Industries
T’Challastared at the letter. It had obviously been dictated, not hand-written, and hewasn’t sure why he found that incredibly personal and touching. Clearing histhroat, he looked at his sister. “They’re – in the front?”
“Idid not let them unload yet,” she said teasingly. “After all, I know who sentthem.”
T’Challafrowned. “How?”
“Youforget that I have traveled far more extensively than you,” she pointed out,almost gleefully. “I have had the opportunity to see Stark before this entiremess, and I watched him interact with you. I watched you interact with him.”Then she let out a loud laugh and darted out the door as he stood up, cheeksheated in embarrassment.
T’Challacame out of his office and walked down the hallway to the large windows thatoverlooked the front of the executive office of the King. This wasn’t his house– his house and his family’s lands, were kept private – but he stayed most ofthe time here, like his father did. It made him accessible to the people, whocould bring petitions in during certain times, and made him closer to theCouncil. So though it looked grand, with a large lawn in front and a curvingdrive, it was not exactly equipped for the fivebaby elephants that were currently, thankfully, still within their trailers. Hedidn’t know what he’d do if they had been let out.
Shuriwas standing by the head trailer, talking with the driver, and she looked up tohim and grinned.
T’Challadidn’t know what to say, so he rolled his eyes and went back to his office.
***
Thenext week, T’Challa stepped into his office and stopped dead.
Shurilooked up from where she’d been sniffing the flowers spread out on his desk andgrinned that particular grin that promised problems for him in the future.
“What—”he began.
Shuriinterrupted him. “I think you should perhaps talk to Stark. These flowers areabsolutely lovely, but I’m pretty sure they’re endangered.”
“Icould buy my own flowers,” T’Challa said, a little blankly. “Why is he doingthis?”
“Oh,he’s not sending them,” Shuri said airily before flouncing out of the room.
Quiteconfused, T’Challa looked at the delicate white petals that hung like etherealbells from a beautiful vine, at the stunning bright blue blossoms that tumbled over one another like a waterfall of flowers. Aheavy white card rested in a nest of the blooms, and confused – and flattered –T’Challa picked it up.
Your Highness, T’Challa,
What do you give someonewho’s over forty times richer than you? How the hell am I supposed to know,Friday? I – well, these are some ghost orchids and jade vines. I also sent agardener specially trained in pollinating and caring for them because I’mpretty sure they aren’t natural to Africa, or America for that matter – shouldI send ones natural to America? I’m American – I’m part Italian? I feel as ifAmerican flowers aren’t that great—
Who am I kidding, Friday,just strike—
No, I’m not doinganything, Pepper, nothing at all, just – end, Friday, close.
Dr. Anthony Edward Stark,VP of R&D and CTO of Stark Industries
Afaint suspicion began to grow in the back of his mind, and he looked at thestunning flowers a second longer before turning on his heel and exiting theoffice.
Hehad some research to do.
***
Whenhe came into his office to find a staggeringly huge basket full of chocolatesand different sweets and treats, he looked for the card he was accustomed to receiving.It was easier to find; the white cream stood out among the gold foils anddelicate pastries.
Your Highness, T’Challa,
I’m running out of ideashere – I don’t even know what you like, do you know that? We barely interacted.I don’t know what to say to you – I don’t know why you’d even accept any ofthese gifts. Why would you? Anything I buy, you could get for yourself tentimes over. Forty times, even.
Fuck it, Friday, del—
Rhodey, what are youdoing down here? You make it all the way downstairs by yourself? I’ll fire thathot nurse, see if I don’t.
Tony, what are you doingdown here?
Nothing, Rhodey, I’m not– nothing. Let’s get you back upstairs, huh?
Pepper says you’ve beenbuying weird things and then trying to stuff them in the back of your closet.
Pepper is a lying liarwho lies and who loves to torture me. Why, just the other day I—
Absence of A.E. Starkends dictation.
Dr. Anthony Edward Stark,VP of R&D and CTO of Stark Industries
T’Challareread the note a second and then third time before nodding and moving to thedoorway. Outside stood Kaisa and Aziza.
“Bringmy sister here, please,” he said mildly, and closed the door again.
Thebasket he moved to the floor to the side of his desk, unwilling to think aboutit just yet. He managed to get through five petitions before the door openedand Shuri stepped in, her Cheshire grin firmly in place.
“Yousummoned me, dear brother?”
T’Challapointed at the basket. “Explain,” he commanded, voice short and to the point.
Ithad absolutely no effect on someone who grew up with him, of course, and shemerely strolled over to the basket and hummed in the back of her throatappreciatively. “Very good quality, brother. Then again, he purchases good-quality items all the time.”
“Yousaid he is not sending these.”
Shurishrugged carelessly. “Would it matter if he was?”
T’Challasquinted at her and said in exasperation, “Yes, it would matter, because if he is sending it, he is obviouslyattempting to begin a relationship. If someoneelse is sending these gifts, the reasons are endless.”
“Perhaps,like a certain brother I know, he simply needs… a helping hand. To nudge him inthe right direction,” Shuri teased, but when T’Challa furrowed his brow, Shurisighed and shook her head. “He would not send you anything voluntarily. I’msure you’ve been reading the notes, and perhaps you can take a guess, but hiscurrent PA has been looking for the gifts and sending them as quickly aspossible.”
T’Challaopened his mouth to respond, but the full implications of the words made himslowly close his mouth, consider his words carefully. “Looking for the gifts,and sending them quickly. Has Stark been…”
“Buyingmultiple things for you, and then scrapping the purchases almost instantly?Yes,” Shuri said breezily. “Perhaps you should talk to one of your currenthouseguests and determine what to do next, because this is the last one you’llreceive. Stark’s PA has been very clear that Stark stopped buying gifts. Iwonder why?”
T’Challaopened his mouth to reply, but his sister had already opened the plastic andwas unwrapping a truffle.
“Hey!”he said, affronted, because those were hiscandies and truffles.
Shelicked her lips and chuckled. “Or you could ask the man himself. Send himsomething in return.”
Hetook a mock-threatening step forward, and like any little sister she skipped out ofthe way, snickering, and left the room. He scowled at the doorway, but herwords sunk deep, took root. The more he thought of it, she was right. TonyStark had been sending gifts, and by reading the cards, it certainly didn’tlook as if he had intended them to actuallysend, but that didn’t change the fact that Tony had – that Stark had clearly bought the gifts with T’Challa in mind. He shoulddo something to thank To – Stark. Heshould show his thankfulness, that someone thought of him. Too often peopleassumed – rightly, but that was beside the point – that since T’Challa wasprince, now king, he bought himself what he wanted and needed no gifts fromanyone else.
T’Challapaused.
TonyStark was head of Stark Industries. He wasn’t in T’Challa’s league in terms ofriches, but he certainly was far richer than most people could dream of intheir lifetime. Perhaps Tony – Stark– was in the same boat.
Whichwas a shame. If there was anyone who deserved some pampering and gifts, it wasTony Stark.
That…was not a bad idea, actually. Whether voluntarily or not, Tony Stark hadthought about giving him these gifts and they were here. He deserved some giftsin return, didn’t he?
***
“He’sdefinitely pining. You should call him,” Shuri murmured, dropping offpaperwork on his desk.
“Pining?”T’Challa asked absently, brow furrowed. This was the sixth rewrite of theAccords coming across his desk, and he knew it was Tony – Stark in charge of it, Stark the one pushing to get them rewritten.There were a lot of things, actually, that Tony – that Stark – had been doing recently, and T’Challa had even communicatedonce or twice with Stark’s assistant on timelines and the like. Not Starkhimself; the few times T’Challa had tried to get Tony – get Stark – on thephone, he’d been answered by an advanced AI who had said in a calm, reassuringvoice that T’Challa’s message was taken and would be responded to with theutmost urgency by the Dr. Anthony E. Stark.
Asnap of fingers jerked his attention out of his thoughts, and he could feel hischeeks flushing as he met Shuri’s eyes.
“Youwere thinking about Stark again, weren’t you?”
“Shuri,is this the paperwork on the housing situation for the political refugees? I thought this matter was settled,” hesighed.
Tskingher tongue, she tapped her finger against the Accords draft he had been goingover with a blue pen. “You know exactly who’s pining, and what you should do.You should go to the next table talks on the Accords, instead of just faxing inyour changes. I know you have a lot of work here, what with all the,” she waveda hand in the air negligently, “refugeesyou took in, but I know that look in your eye, and I know your… affinity for engineers.”
“Iam – I can’t simply leave, Shuri. Iam… king, now. I have to fortify and strengthen our country if Ross decides toshove his weight around.”
Shelet out a huff and shook her head. “You always do this. You see something youwant and you hesitate and hesitate until it passes you by. Besides, it is asimple matter to justify your trip. These Accords, rewritten and improved, willbe what finally removes Ross as a threat, not fortifying the country. Go submityour changes in person. Talk to Stark.”
Beforehe could say anything to that, Shuri exited the room. He stared at thedoor behind her and weighed her words in his head.
Finally, he shook hishead and dialed his secretary to tell her to prepare the Dora Milaje for a tripoutside of Wakanda.
210 notes · View notes