“elegance.” • T’challa

“elegance.” • t’challa

prompt ↬ first date with crush!t’challa with a few mishaps.

warnings ↬ fluff, first date troubles lol, shy baby t’challa

(sorry but he is the prettiest man i’ve ever seen in my fucking life)

Who knew that a whole King would be so nervous in picking up his crush from her doorstep for a date?

T’Challa’s hands shake a little as he holds the stems of your favorite flowers in his hands. He’s so excited, but also very scared to see you. He was taking you out to a restaurant tonight, one that was saved just for the two of you near his kingdom. But he was so, so nervous.

His crush on you was huge. At first, it was just infatuation when you two had met. He found you interesting and a good friend to talk to when his duties just got to be too much or too overbearing. But then it descended into him realizing how lovely you actually were.

You were like the sun to him, radiating warmth and attracting people wherever you went. He always found himself smiling wide whenever he was around you, admiring you secretly and looking away with sweaty palms when you looked his way. He thought it was silly, that he had a crush like that and he never heard the end of it from Shuri.

“A crush?! My dear brother, you are far too old for crushes.” she shook her head as she walked around him in her lab, but she wasn’t blaming him. You were an amazing spirit to be around.

“I am not that old.” he smiled in amusement, knowing you would’ve probably said the same thing. “Do you know… that phrase that Westerners say when they have… crushes?”

“Like, she gives you butterflies in your stomach?!” Shuri shouted, running close to her brother to tickle him, teasing him more with his endless shouts. But it was true—that was exactly how you made him feel.

Breathing in and out to calm himself down, the King’s heart stops when you open the door, revealing your beauty to him. Both of you are matching—you in a black dress that looks sensual against your brown skin, the diamonds that it’s encrusted in only bringing out your figure that much more.

“You look… b-beautiful.” he breathes out, cursing himself for stuttering, watching as you smile widely and shake your head.

“Not as beautiful as you, my King~” you grin, reaching over to grab your mini handbag from your desk, closing the door. It is only then that you notice the flowers in his hand, looking up at him with bright eyes.

“T’Challaaaa,” you drag out, quickly opening back up the door to place the flowers down. “I told you not to get all lovey dovey with it!”

“I could not help myself.” he smiles down at you, a hand on the small of your back as he leads you down to the limo he’s parked in front of your residence. You give no thought to it until you actually look.

“Oh my god, T’Challa!” you shout, feeling yourself get flustered as you smack the side of his arm with your handbag. “I’m going to kill you.”

He knows that you secretly love how romantic he’s being, and he loves how humble you are getting in the way of it. You’re truly a gem.

You both shuffle into the backseat, the door closing behind you and there’s a few seconds before the limo starts to move. He looks towards you under the dim light, watching the way your eyes scan everything around you.

“Do you like it?” he asks, watching your head snap to him and almost melting at the smile that spreads across your face.

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him, scooting a little closer and he basks in how good you smell. “I wasn’t expecting a limo. Are you trying to woo me?”

“Maybe.” he teases, sucking in a breath when your hand rests on his knee. T’Challa, for the love of everything holy, do not get a boner. Do not.

“It’s definitely working so far.” you laugh, your hand curling in on top of his knee and he widens his eyes as he goes rigid. He is a grown man. He should not be getting boners over you touching his damn knee.

It’s silent for the rest of the ride, when you leaning up against him like you always do. But the fact that you’re in such a pretty dress and you smell so good and your hand is still on his knee is what makes it very hard to concentrate.

When you arrive at the restaurant, he gets out first, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. You’re nowhere near graceful, almost toppling over because of your heels and he laughs as he helps you stand up straight, hoping he doesn’t do the same and actually fall in front of you.

You two walk right into the restaurant and you look up at him, a little confused that he didn’t stop. He leads you straight to a table in the middle, set up so exquisitely that your jaw drops as soon as you see it.

He leaves you to pull out the chair, accidentally grabbing some of the table cloth with it. Your plate and silverware topple to the ground and he curses under his breath as he quickly leans down to pick them up, looking around for a waiter to give you new dishes. His clumsiness is cute, though, and you take your seat, reaching out to pat his hand.

“Why is no one else here?” you ask once he’s sat down and calmed down, an employee quickly coming by to grant you new silverware.

“I reserved the restaurant for us,” he smiles, watching as your eyes narrow into slits. “I did not want anyone to distract us!”

You shake your head, but you truly appreciate it. At the same time, you were depending on other people’s chatter to calm your nerves… guess you’ll just have to deal with it.

“Do you want wine?” he asks as both of your eyes scan over the menu and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, my King?”

He widens his eyes, holding his hands up in defense because that definitely was not his intention. “O-Of course not! Why would I do that?!”

You laugh, closing the menu before nodding at his question. “I’m joking~give me the best wine they’ve got.”

A waiter comes to take your orders and bring out a bottle of wine, leaving you two afterwards. He pours his glass full, then stands up to head over to you, almost tripping over the long table cloth.

“Jesus,” he murmurs under his breath, unaware of how much his hands are shaking when he goes to pour your drink. The tip of the bottle brushes the tip of your glass, knocking it over, sending the wine leaking off the table and into your lap.

His eyes widen as he sets down the bottle and quickly grabs a bunch of napkins, leaning down to wipe the wine out of your lap. He’s close, and you let out a squeak when his head brushes right up against your breasts. He looks towards you in worry but the only thing he sees is your chest, hugged by the material of the black dress you’re hugging. His mouth goes dry and he quickly looks back down to wipe up all of the wine, almost running back to his seat.

“I am terribly s-sorry,” he flushes, hands slightly balled into gusts underneath the table as he feels blood rush down to his crotch. God dammit.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile, seemingly unaffected by everything. “Did you like what you saw?~”

He looks down, shaking his head as he tries to delete the images of your chest so close to his face. “You’re t-too much, Y/N.”

You laugh and finally, the food arrives at your table. You’re hungrier than ever so you waste no time in digging into your food, and he hurries to do the same.

The food is burning hot and he hisses as he spits it back out, raising his glass to gulp down the wine. He hears nothing from you and glances, only to realize you’re laughing at the fact that the food he spat out landed right near your plate.

“I’m sorry!” he apologizes, leaning over the table to flick the food away and only cringes at the sauce rubs against his tuxedo. Jesus Christ, T’Challa, get it together!

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile, flicking the food away yourself as you get back to eating. He huffs out in relief, plopping back down in his seat, wiping the sauce off of his suit only to spread it further. You raise your brows again, letting out a giggle. “You dab, babe. Not wipe.”

“I knew that.” he grumbles and you two finish your food with more talking and more teasing. He still feels horrible, like the whole date had been failed. Ruining both of your clothes, spitting out food next to your plate, almost shoving his face in between your breasts… it hangs on his shoulders for the rest of the evening.

“I really… truly apologize for how immature I was acting tonight,” he says when you two arrive back at your home, you standing near your door as he looks down at his shoes. “You just… made me very nervous and I-“

He’s cut off when your fingers grip his chin and tilt his head back up, your lips pressing against his in a short kiss. His knees go weak.

“I would love to go on another date with you, T’Challa,” you smile, sliding your hand down his arm to grab his hand. Damn you and your flirting. “I had a lot of fun. Maybe you should drop the whole ‘King’ act for the next date, I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

He’s speechless as you turn enter your house, but not before giving him one last, full kiss. He’s left staring at your door, amazed by the fact that you wanted another date with him—there was no question to it.

Maybe he would drop the King act for a while.