So, You Like Cats? (T'challa x reader)

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@GarrowayGirl Requested:  I suck at requests but can you write some T'Challa imagines? Maybe in one T'Challa and reader get in a big fight about you being flirty with someone and you didn't realize you were being flirty or something.


"So, you like cats? You got something against birds, or is it just me?" Sam asked with a grin, tipping his drink back as he laughed. You reached out to give him a slap on his arm but he shifted his stance quick enough to evade it, spilling his drink down the front of his blue button-down. "Dammit, woman, this is new!"

"Maybe shut it then, alright?"

"What? I've asked you out a hundred times and nothing. King of the litter box shows up and he lands a date on his first try, and now he's here all the time. Doesn't he have a whole country to scratch around in? It's gotta be a species thing, because I know it ain't me."

"Of course," you sighed, turning to grab a towel from behind the bar, "it could never be you, Sammy." He turned his body towards you so that you could help to clean up the mess that his spill had caused, watching you intently with a crooked grin on his lips while you rubbed the towel gently across his chest. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're enjoying this."

"Can't stop me."

"Then perhaps I can put a stop to it," T'Challa broke in, moving in behind you and grabbing your wrist, sharply pulling your hand away from contact with Sam. "I think you've finished."

"Hey, man, it's not like that," Sam hurried to cover, "I was just messing around with her. We do this all the time, it's nothing."

"It's disrespectful."

"T'Challa, come on," you broke in, shaking out of his hold and taking his arm in hand, "let's go sit down somewhere." You gave a slight tug against him but he didn't move; his stare was still directed at Sam, who was beginning to react to it in a way that you knew wouldn't end well for anyone. He stood just a bit taller with his jaw set, returned in kind readily by T'Challa in a clear show of testosterone that made you scoff at their attempts to show off in front of you. Nonetheless, in a room filled with Avengers, it was bound to end in a mess if you didn't take the situation down quickly. In your periphery, you could see Steve standing up from his own conversation and looking your way with a concerned eye, with Clint taking much the same stance in the opposite direction. "T'Challa, let's go," you tried again, pulling with a firmer grip, "you're not starting a fight here."

He held silent for a moment, deciding what it was worth to pursue, and much to your relief coming to the conclusion that it was best to stand down. "No, of course not," he finally broke, looking at you with a hint of apology but still firm in his stance, "you're right, let's go elsewhere."

You glanced back at Sam apologetically, then to Steve with a nod to hold him back, slipping your hand down T'Challa's arm and into his hand with a gentle squeeze. Leading him to the far side of the lounge and next to one of the windows that overlooked the lake behind the compound, you sat down and kept your eyes on him, waiting for him to offer an explanation of his behavior on his own. When it didn't come, you finally took it upon yourself to break the silence that hung heavily between you. "What was that back there? I didn't know that you were the jealous type. Especially when nothing was happening."

"It didn't look like it was nothing, (Y/N)."

"Sam is my friend, I've told you that. A lot. You seem to have a problem with him that I'm not understanding."

"He wants you for himself," he explained, still refusing to look at you, "and he continues to make that clear even when he knows that you belong to me."

"Woah, hold up," you paused, holding up a hand to stop him, "I belong to you? Since when have we shifted to ownership? I never agreed to that, so let's just get that out in the open right now before this goes any further."

Your change in tone finally caught his attention, making him turn himself towards you with a shift in his posture and a look of apology in his expression; if you hadn't known better, you would almost say that he looked panicked. "That's not what I meant, (Y/N). Of course I don't feel as if I own you. It's merely that...I simply mean..." he stammered, clenching his fists and frustrated that he couldn't find the words he wanted fast enough.

"That you felt threatened."

"It's not a feeling that I'm accustomed to."

"No, I can't imagine that it would be, you have very scary claws" you smiled softly, reaching over to take his hand and hoping that he would accept it. When he did readily, you slowly scooted yourself closer to him on the couch until you were close enough to make contact, hearing a contented sigh as he put his arm around you to pull you into a tight hold. With the tension beginning to break, you leaned into him and wrapped your arm around his waist, feeling his muscles relax to your touch.

"I'm very sorry," he offered quietly, turning to press a kiss against your hair, "I was wrong. I behaved like a child."

"Yeah, well, you may have noticed that I work with a whole team of them," you agreed, "so I can handle it. But what I can't handle is if you're going to be jealous of Sam. You need to trust me that he's just a friend if you expect this to work."

"I will...I do," he answered readily, "I do." He turned his head slowly as to not give himself away in search of Sam, still standing at the bar but now joined by Steve and Natasha, carrying on a conversation that T'Challa felt assured was about him. He caught Sam throwing a quick look his way that was halted as soon as he saw T'Challa looking back, leaving him to feel confident that he had made his point clear with your teammate and that he wouldn't be a problem in the future. Even with his newfound confidence, however, he had to be fully sure that his intuition was correct.

"So," he asked timidly, "you like birds?"


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