FANDOM(S): Black Panther, MCU
RELATIONSHIP(S): Erik Killmonger x reader. W’Kabi & reader.
SUMMARY: All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.
WARNING(S): Alternate canon divergence.
TAGGING: @chocolatemonkeyrainbows @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @lightdarkandanythinginbetween @wildeespirit @elaindeereads @groovybbyyy @sydish @silkandscarlet @holy-minseok @petiteunsucre @panthergoddessbast @singinginthepurplerain @steelbluebucky @17nikkifn @alyssaluna0820 @idkyouchoose0624 @brieathomas @steampunkprincess147 @sweet-emo-kookie @rokushi-san @12337536 @gummi-bunni @tonilisa @awkward-is-i @evalovely198 @raybans4 @join-me-in-rare-pair-hell @ashjbu @itstisha @shadok2015 @supremethunda @lovelylittlekittn @itsmarshalltime98 @bvckybanres @keya168 @forwakandaalways @adiafegan @wikiwakanda
It’s been a wild ride filled with ups and downs, but at last we’re getting closer to the end destination, another chapter or so, and that’s it. Erik and his soulmate exit the stage, however, the series is not over by any means, you’ll be getting outtakes of what happened before, during, and after the conclusion of Pray for Me, perhaps even a glimpse of N’Jobu with his wife in the Ancestral Plane/Heaven, W’Kabi and the reader’s parents, etc.
Bast works in truly mysterious ways and she’s not finished bestowing blessings.
If you guys liked this, then thank you, if you’ve been here since the beginning, thank you twice, hehe. This wouldn’t have been possible without y’all and I truly appreciate all the support!
PART I. PART II. PART III. PART IV. PART V. PART VI. PART VII. PART VIII. Part IX.
Edited: 5/9/18. 1:28 A.M.
6 Months Later
St. Louis, Missouri
Zion Hotel & Spa
You woke up in a comfortable bed, with a thousand pillows surrounding your body, and a firm cock pressed up against the curve of your ass, a hand squeezing your breast. Eyes still closed, you stretch languidly and wiggle around but the hand doesn’t dislodge itself. “N’Jadaka, what are you doing?”
“Don’t play games, baby girl.”
Grinning at the warning tone in his voice, you teasingly press back against him. He grunted before sliding your panties down then off. You reach down and take his cock in hand, feeling him throb in your hold. He goes to kiss you but you dodge the attempt, “We haven’t brushed our teeth yet!” You felt the need to remind him.
“So?” N’Jadaka challenged before tilting your chin up and kissing you on the lips, “...You right, this would go smoother with a mint.”
Amused beyond belief, you roll him onto his back and pull his pants down. The sight of him always makes your mouth water. Climbing on top of him, you take in his expression, catching sight of the heavy lidded stare, the way he bit his bottom lip in anticipation, wanting nothing more than to fill you up, and that’s what you want as well.
Using your hand, you grip him again, dragging the tip of his cock against you pussy lips again and again, teasing both you and him, but before he could tell you to stop playing, you then slid down on him sloooowly. Neither of you make a sound, except he lets out a quiet hiss, muscle jumping in his jaw as he held off on seizing back control.
Pausing for a second, you let yourself adjust to the feel of him inside you. Once you’re okay with it, you slide back up, using your legs to rise and fall over and over onto his cock. His hands are on your thighs and his eyes closed, short breaths leaving his mouth every time that you drop down again.
Eyelids opening, he lifted his hands from your thighs to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it from up then over your head, dropping it off to the side before his hands are on your breasts. Leaning back, your hands find leverage on his thighs and just as you wanted, predicted, needed, the sight has N’Jadaka more vocal.
“Damn, baby! Look atchu!” Approval and lust coats his tone. Your head is thrown back and you grind down on him once more before lifting yourself. His right hand goes to the top of your thigh and every time you move, his thumb brushes against your clit.
He watches as you fuck yourself on him, left hand on your hip and holding you steady until you feel that familiar pull in your stomach.
You let out a loud moan as you cum around him, drenching his cock.
“Fuck, you are so goddamn sexy!” N’Jadaka’s hands grip your ass, holding you in place as his hips rose off the bed and he thrust into you quickly, almost a little too roughly, before he groans long and low, the sound rough to your ear and you felt him cum inside you, hands squeezing your waist tightly.
The three letter words begged to be let out but it’d be a pointless cliche to say it now, right, right after you’d had mind blowing sex? The moment had to be perfect and special, meaningful. You also want to go through with completing the Bond, had known you wanted forever with him; to know everything intimate about him, and for he to know you.
“Mm, yup!” You grin as convincingly as possible. “Dibs on first shower! I need to shave my legs, I’m starting to look like one of those werewolves off that TV show, Wolf Teen.”
“Teen Wolf.” N’Jadaka corrected habitually. “And, ya lying.” It’s a statement, not a question, he’d watched you closely enough to note all of your tells. “Tell me.” He reached out and captured your hands, thumb caressing the pulse point.
“Can’t or won’t?” He challenged. You say nothing and he sighed, knowing full too well that if he kept pushing the subject, you’d only clam up more. “Aigh’t then, I’ll drop it for now, but I think we should talk about it later if it’s still bothering you.” Pressing his lips to your temple, N’Jadaka smacked you sharply on the ass. “And we can shower together. It’ll save water.”
“The saving water excuse, really?” You snort, amused. He shrugged with a smirk. The two of you got from up off the bed with soiled sheets and made for the bathroom together.
Being away from Wakanda is...liberating. You loved the people that are important to you, of course, but time and space away from the things that made someone anxious certainly brought clarity. W’Kabi contacted both you and N’Jadaka merely a month after you’d left, though he and N’Jadaka had ended up having a lengthy discussion that still sort of threw you for a loop when you recalled everything said.
“There has not been a recorded union between a Wakandan native and someone outside our borders for decades. Even more so, someone from the Border Tribe and an outsider. It just has not been seen.”
“Brother...” You say warningly, fully prepared to turn the kimoyo beads off, having felt the way N’Jadaka tensed upon hearing the word ‘outsider’.
“I am not saying this to be belligerent or antagonize either of you.” He hastily stated, belatedly realizing his misstep. “I am only telling you like it is.” The holoform version of your brother turned to look at you. “The fable of Addae and Uwamani is a grim story but one to warn us of the dangers of such unions.”
“Or to scare us into rejecting the Bond entirely.” You rebutted. “Which is not going to happen.”
“Good.” W’Kabi said simply.
“Bruh, what?” N’Jadaka sounded as lost as you felt.
“Your arrival, Prince N’Jadaka, stirred the hornet’s nest. Like I said, for decades, centuries, Wakandans have found their soulmates at young ages or by their twenties, amongst each other in different Tribes. Being half Wakandan, half American, excuse me, African American, that puzzled those within the Golden City, and even more so, it got the members of the S.R.D. to take another look at their data.”
The truth hit you a few minutes later and you turned to look at N’Jadaka who looked a bit surprised as well. “My mom’s wasn’t Wakandan.”
“There’s a less than two percent chance that she might have been.” W’Kabi nodded. “Of course, that’s what the Council Elders are clinging to in order to justify the Bond between you and my sister. They do not want to be wrong because...”
You cut in, “However wrongly Prince N’Jobu went about it, at the root of the matter, he was not totally wrong about African Americans and Wakandans being the same fundamentally. You said it best, lover, ‘Didn’t all life start right here on this continent?’”
"Ready to roll?” N’Jadaka removed an earbud from his left ear, reaching for your hand, which you took and he tucked you by his side. Faintly, you could hear the sound of a female but weren’t worried.
He was listening to the host of Timeless Everyday, a television show and radio broadcast that addressed superstitions and stereotypes of tri-soulbonds, she was originally a former YouTuber who only made DIY and tutorial videos showcasing how she customized her wardrobe, what things she used and where to buy them; her rise to fame came after she dragged Taylor Swift on Twitter, berating the singer for denouncing tri-soulbonds as something ‘sick and perverted’ and tore into her even more for considering it ‘of course a black person thing’.
The confrontation had been made into a spectacle of epic proportions, with Taylor Swift being ultimately labeled as the aggressor here and in the wrong, people had made memes of the blow out and it was still the most talked about thing.
“And roll. We are still going to the Great Center of Contemporary Arts, right?” You double checked. “They got a new art piece that you wanted to check out, if I recall?”
“That’s the one.” Removing the other earbud, he tilts your chin just so and captures your mouth in a kiss. You blinked in surprise before you relaxed, hand winding around his neck as he deepened the kiss a bit. The surprise kiss ended too soon for your liking and you chase after his lips and he only chuckled, the sound deep and masculine, teasing you with a peck.
Heart aflutter in your chest, you wonder what that’s about as the two of you walk hand in hand for the exit. The two of you spent the day roaming the city after being kicked out of the center due to ‘disrupting the peace’, which is really code for not fitting the mold of being a white couple and potentially because N’Jadaka made fun of some white person’s art, not that it wasn’t worth being laughed at over, the art sucked.
N’Jadaka grinded his teeth and you worried that he would explode, so then you suggested getting something to eat. The eatery you chose is owned by Harold Hanover, the son of the host family that took you in while you lived in the United States; discounted prices were par the norm and the seating always private, away from prying eyes.
“Mm, okay,” You hum contemplatively as you take a bite of food. “That’s spicy. Perhaps sriracha I’m tasting…” Savoring each flavor, trying to pinpoint every ingredient. “It’s good.” Opening your eyes and licking your lips to remove any residual, you catch sight N’Jadaka staring at you intently, his dark eyes watching with laser focus.
He ignored you momentarily, instead turning to the waiter, “Bring us a bottle of Romanee-Conti Grand Cru.” Once the waitress walked off, N’Jadaka turned his attention back to you, “You really cuttin’ up in here.”
Using the cutlery, you cut into the steak that you’d ordered delicately, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I am just really, really,” And lift the slice of meat to your lips, moaning as you tasted a hint of butter and other spices as you chewed slowly, “Hun–” Words failed you as N’Jadaka laid a hand on top of your knee, thumb kneading and caressing your brown skin.
“I’ma need you to act right, stop allat sexy as fuck noises you makin’. Or it’s gon be a repeat of what happened in Miami.”
Just remembering what happened there makes your skin heat up with embarrassment and arousal.
N’Jadaka had your legs spread open so that he could stand between them as he steadily fucked into you from behind against the hood of the car, his hands holding onto your sides and gripping tight enough to leave bruises.
“You like this shit don’tchu?!”
“Y-Ye–” You could barely breathe, could barely even think.
He paused mid-thrust and you nearly screamed at him with frustration. “Tell. Daddy. You. Like. This. Shit.” Slowly, teasingly, N’Jadaka thrusted in you again, though to call it a thrust would be exaggerating, as it was too gentle for that. Biting your bottom lip, your eyes screwed shut, sweat had popped on your forehead and your mouth is gaping, open, as you gasped for air.
“I like it, I like it, I like it, I like this shit, Dad--” Pulling out almost all the way, his hips snapped forward, burying himself to the hilt, “--Ddy!” And he played with your clit, causing you to gush all over him. “Oh mah guh...”
You were incomprehensible but you didn’t even care at this point.
Something must show on your face because N’Jadaka is grinning, practically ear to ear, utterly amused. He kissed the side of your neck, lips lingering on the satiny smooth skin for a tad longer than appropriate, if judging by the waitress’ stare is anything to go by. You can’t be bothered to care though, right now you just wanted to get through this meal without passing out due to the teasing or embarrassment.
Finishing off the steak and potatoes, you swirl the wine around in the glass, glancing up at the right moment to see that again, his eyes are on you. There’s something vulnerable in his expression that tugs at your heartstrings.
Opening your mouth, you’re about to ask what’s wrong, but he cuts you off, “You know I would do anything for you, right?” Confused but wondering where he’s going with this, you nod. “And nobody else in this world matters more to me than you do?”
Now you know that’s not true. He had talked about his Aunt Josephine with equal parts amusement and exasperation but altogether respect, the woman was held in the highest regard. Just as you’re about to say as much and potentially stick your foot in it, your heart stops momentarily only to speed up when you realize that N’Jadaka had gotten down on one knee in your inattention.
“I had this whole thing planned out. We’d chill at the center, make fun of the whack ass art, then head to that ice cream parlor you kept talkin’ ‘bout, and then I’d wait until after we stopped at the park you like, the one with the fountain. I was gon do it there, pop the question. But shit went sideways.”
Suddenly his anger, which is much more controllable nowadays, at the incident earlier makes all the more sense. “I screwed up the plan.”
“Nah. You just reminded me that I’m better at improving and planning on the fly.” He grinned, showing off white teeth and a little dimple, “So, what do you say? Will you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, marry me? Make me the happiest nigga on Earth by taking my name? I know I ain’t got much and I still got a long way to go to prove that I’m good enough...”
You hate to interrupt him, but, “Don’t say you’re not good enough. You are literally the other half of my soul, and, and, and I,” Deep breath in then out. “I love you. I cannot think of anyone else I would rather be married to, or Bonded to.”
So, you’re a coward and lightly asked/implied, that you wanted to Bond. Hopefully he said yes, hopefully--
N’Jadaka catches you up in his arms, kissing you over and over and over again, until you’re breathless with laughter, filled with joy. Then when he delicately slides the ring onto your finger, reflexively you hold it up to admire and it’s perfect, just like you knew it would be.
“I love you.” You murmur, dizzy with exhilaration. Drunk on it.
“And I love you.” He says.
And just for that, just because you can, you kiss him again.
