Chapter Text
No one had to tell you how incredibly stupid you were being, you figured that out all on your own the moment Erik 'Killmonger' Stevens bulldozed his way into your life. You've always been quite prone to making silly mistakes, but this is on another level of stupidity because you see yourself being naive and yet you still do it. Self-Awareness isn't something lacking from your life, though your friends would attest to that seeing as how you're still involved with a damn criminal fuckboy who hates the world.
In your defense, you didn't know he was hell-bent on colonizing other cultures until your fifth date with him, and by then he had already demonstrated how goddamn skilled he is in bed. Like, mind-blowing, life-changing skills. Blow your back out levels. The kind of sex that while you're in the middle of having it, you still can't believe it's happening and you just know that no one is gonna make you feel like that again. A sad thought, sure, but you've been with more than a few different guys - some of which were extremely good, and it was never like that with them. It's like he knew exactly how to get you going, knew every button to push and make your knees go out, and there have been multiple times where you couldn't walk afterward. Really, you had to call off from work!
"But is the dick really worth it, sis?" Your girl, Monica, asked the other day. What were you supposed to say to that? If you said yes, you'd sound crazy as hell, and if you said no, they'd assume you were gonna break it off with him. He's honestly not that bad, once you get past the initial 'the world's gotta start over' type shit. That stuff is mostly just talk and you know that for a fact because he spends most of his days on the couch playing 2K18 and managing whatever bullshit fake woke blog he runs.
Is he a thief? Yes, technically. But he likes to call it 'reclaiming his culture'. You shrug and ignore it because you are not apart of that wave and if he gets in trouble, you know you'll be fine. You usually don't have a problem with him (that is when he's dicking you down and doesn't have to form complete sentences), but lately, the relationship's been feeling off.
You're relieved to finally get home from a long work day and it's like you can hear your bed calling out to you. You inhale the slight fume of your breakfast from this morning as you step into your apartment, closing your door and locking it behind you.
"N'Jadaka!" You shouted as you discarded your shoes. You've always preferred calling him by his real name ever since he told it to you. If you happened to get angry with him, you'd switch back to Erik, so he'd know just how much you weren't fucking around.
Before you left the house for work this morning, you caught him sneaking a phone call in the bathroom while the shower was running. When you asked who he was talking to, he assured you it was a family member, but if you know one thing it's that he can't stand his family. You almost called him out until he suggested shower sex, which -- hey, who'd turn that down? But now that your head is clear, it's time to get down to business.
You could hear the sounds of Halo from where you stood, so you know he hears you calling his ass. You walk to your room, struggling not to roll your eyes.
"Aw, hey, what's going on?" He asked in greeting without even taking his eyes off your TV screen. He was sitting on your bed in only sweatpants, munching chips from an open bag of Cheetohs on your pillow. Your jaw clenched.
"Are you gon' look at me or keep playing your little game?" You ask, annoyed. He huffed out a breath, but reluctantly paused his shooting crusade and turned to you.
"Okay, it's off, c'mere," he opened his arms, motioning for you to come hug him. You had to be firm about this, though, and if he had you in his grip you'd lose all control, so you stayed where you were.
"I think we should talk." You mutter. N'Jadaka motioned for you still.
"Okay, c'mere first." He insisted with a lazy smirk. You squint suspiciously because he's laying on the charm a little thick.
"I'm not about to do this with you, N'Jadaka." You frowned.
He stood from the bed, uncaring of how low-slung his grey sweatpants were on his waist and stretched. You couldn't help but glance down briefly before averting your eyes. "Oh, so you want me to come to you? I can do that." He took the four easy steps towards you.
You glared up at him. "Are you talking to another girl?" The big question was dropped, but he didn't seem put off in the slightest, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his body.
"Baby, do you really think that low of me?" He asks as he starts kissing down your neck. His lips part on your collarbone, giving you sloppy open-mouthed kisses this time while sliding your jacket off your shoulders. His kisses are euphoric, but you try not to get sucked up into his libido. "You think I'm out here messing with other girls when I got you? And this body?! Girl, damn." He's unbuttoning your top faster than you can form words. Words, right!
Use your words!
"My question," you sighed as his hands grabbed your breasts. His mouth went back to attacking your neck and he pulled you into your room as he did so, moving towards the bed. You grabbed his face to remove from your neck and made him level with you. "You didn't answer my question." You look into his dark brown eyes, searching for an answer yourself, but you could never find anything significant in his eyes.
"Why would I do that to you?" He replied. Fake ass. "Nah, on some real shit, you know you're the only one who calls me N'Jadaka...the only one who knows what I do for a living...the only one who knows my family history. I don't take that shit lightly." He pressed on, cradling your face in his palms. "This is the closest thing I got to a home right now. If I didn't wanna be here, I wouldn't be here. Okay?" He kissed your lips this time, soft and lingering. You leaned into him, kissing back and reveling in how perfect you two fit together. He smiled once you broke away, revealing the golden fangs in between his sparkling white teeth.
Okay, so maybe you're whipped on him for a little more than his dick. Your friends don't need to know all that.
"Now, you gon' let me tear that ass up, or you got some more questions?" You squeal as he pushes you back into your bed. Nope, no more questions. You can stay an idiot for a few more hours.