#Erik Killmonger Fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

erikftglitter · 27 days ago

Text

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Erik Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Dr. Erik Stevens leads a life shrouded in silence and solitude, retreating into the shadows of his isolated existence outside the hospital. Haunted by his past and determined to shield those around him from his turmoil, he avoids all human connection. So when middle school teacher and unsuspecting Kari Evans extends an invitation into her world, she unknowingly opens a door to understanding the sadistic nature of Dr. Erik “Killmonger” Stevens.

—

Kari was humbled by most of the comments from married women in her life. A perfect man did not exist and she shouldn’t waste her vital years searching for him. She ought to be somewhat happy with a man and raise a family. Having a hobby or two would fulfill the gaps of unhappiness.

She almost believed that until she was hit by a shopping cart in the grocery store.

“Ow!” She exclaimed. The metal cart had unexpectedly hit the side of her body when she was shopping for cereal. So much for looking for a balanced breakfast.

“Oh my goodness. I’m very sorry.” The man rushed over to Kari and pushed his cart away from her body. She couldn’t even process a response before she felt her shirt being lifted by the man as he examined the damage. What the hell?

“There’s a little redness present and the indentations from the cart should subside within the next half an hour. I’m very sorry ma’am.”

He spoke softly and surely. If he hadn’t hit her a few moments ago he’d have an advantage over the rest of the men in the small town. He helped her off the ground and she didn’t miss the sizable difference between his hands and her body.

Snapping out of her daze by the painfully obvious fact that the man was clearly waiting for a response from her.

“I-It’s alright. I’m okay.” She stammered. It was partially from being flustered by the presence of the man in front of her and partially because she was just face to face with grocery store tiles.

He was perfect. Tall, brownskin, with a build that made her heart flutter. His hair was cut low and he was wearing gold frames that complimented his facial structure perfectly. Her touch starved description of the beautiful man was cut short by his voice.

“I’m Erik,” His eyes never left hers. “Dr. Erik Stevens. Again I’m very sorry for that. I’m a general surgeon at Oregon Medical Center and I’m just trying to figure out what the hell these interns wrote.” He looked down at the white paper in utter confusion and tried to make out the scribbles on the paper. They were definitely living up to the theory that doctors had atrocious handwriting.

“It’s alright.” Kari had enough embarrassment for the day. Being star-struck by a beautiful man in the grocery store after being struck by his shopping cart full of coffee was going to supply enough ammunition for the next year to keep her wide awake at night.

“Well can I make sure that you get to your car safely?” The doctor asked. He was genuinely upset by his actions. It wasn’t like him to multitask and hurt someone. He had always lived by that and he was in the process of teaching his new set of medical students the same thing.

“No, that's okay Dr. Stevens. I’m fine.” Kari just wanted this interaction to stop so that she could curl up into a ball. She was already an anxious adult and it didn’t take much for her to feel overwhelmed. She would just finish grocery shopping another time and at another store completely.

She completely missed how the man drank in her appearance or how his dick jumped at the way she said his name. Erik could just mount the smaller women in the breakfast aisle, but he remained calm. However, his ego was ready to play.

This was an exhausting life for the older man as well. He had started his career in the United States Navy SEALS and practiced medicine in the field. Saving hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the process of his studies. His ability to read people was instinctual and both a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes he longed to be normal. To be able to relate to the other surgeons. To have a wife and kids at home and have simple hobbies outside of work, but Dr. Stevens had a very big problem.

He was not relatable. Not even in the slightest. The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that he suffered from made him a permanent victim of insomnia and isolation. After work he worked out, ate, and stayed in complete silence or else his body would not be functional and he would take over again. And he loved to play.

He thought that he was doing a good thing by checking to see if the woman was okay, for heaven’s sake he sees all types of body parts every single day. He was pretty desensitized to anything. He’s not sure what’s triggering the unexpected reunion with him, but he would love it if he went back to hiding.

There was no cure for Erik’s predicament. The Navy created a permanent presence that he could not erase. He was always there underneath the surface waiting to play and Erik just did his best to regulate him. For the most part they were satisfied. He was rich, worked alongside beautiful women that were thankfully married (or else he would’ve probably been in trouble a long time ago), and with the relocation to Oregon he thought that he would have a nice quiet life.

But Kari was triggering him. Maybe it was the clear aversion of eye contact, or maybe the way she gasped and how her lips parted, or maybe it was just the beauty of her existence. Erik and his ego were both in agreement with the latter part and that was never a good thing.

Erik lived in a permanent state of forced celibacy. Between his unexpected reunions with his ego and the way that his PTSD would randomly flare up, his conscious brain felt better about not putting a woman close in his grasp. It had been five years since his last sexual encounter and he fucking hated it. Sure he worked with women and found some attractive here and there, but he was an absolute extremist. If he was not strongly attracted to them then they did not exist. It was not like women hadn’t tried. Some even had the arrogance to imply that he was gay because of his lack of attraction towards them, but the Navy trains you to be a centered being. If he couldn’t control his own dick then he had no business being a trained assassin. Especially being a legally endorsed assassin.

Kari’s voluminous curls were doing something to him. The matching athletic suit that complimented her figure, the doe eyes of pure submission, and her soft spoken voice had his palms sweating. He needed to get away from this woman quickly. But he was too late. Kill was already there and ready to play.

“Well at least allow me to pay for your groceries. I insist.” He smiled at Kari. He watched her face intensely as she debated the offer. This woman was in for it.

Kari continued her shopping as usual. She’s not sure why the gentleman is so persistent about paying for her groceries, but the teacher salary in the small town of Caber City, Oregon was pitiful. Almost as pitiful as Kari. She didn’t expect him to merge their carts and shop together but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that the company was nice.

She didn’t have many friends or any for that matter. All of her childhood friends moved out of Caber City as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She had been raised by her grandparents and took care of them both up until their deaths. She lived a quiet life in the big house that they left her. She wondered every day if she should just follow the path of the rest of her coworkers at CC Middle School and just marry someone she went to highschool with.

“You don’t have to be back soon Dr. Stevens?” Kari asked after several moments of silence. Her thoughts were becoming too much for her and she wasn’t home to self-regulate.

“No.” He answered quickly. “Too many hours. They practically kicked me out.” He added. Kari tried to hide the smile creeping up on her face, but Erik didn’t miss the way that her eyes silently confirmed her satisfaction.

“I suppose no wife or children are waiting for you at home then, huh?” Kari was trying not to be painfully obvious at her attempts to know the man a bit better, but if he was going to follow her around and pay for her groceries, then she would feel better if he played into her fantasy. She would probably think about it every day.

“Correct. Long hours are not enough time to get to that I suppose.” Erik replied. That wasn’t a complete lie. Kari nodded. He wondered what she was thinking about. He wondered if she’d been interested or intimidated by him by now. His ego didn’t care either way.

It didn’t take Kari long to finish her list and to help Erik with his. He didn’t mind how long it took, truly. He was more interested in the athletic two piece set that she wore. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off to reveal her stunning figure. The things that he would do to this woman were unacceptable.

Once Erik kept his promise to pay for all her groceries and for their shopping to conclude; Kari almost felt sad. Who was Dr. Stevens really? How could she get to know him more? Oh what hell she had already been embarrassed enough, what’s the worst that could happen?

Erik was fighting a silent battle between himself. He was almost back in control when they left the grocery store and entered the parking lot. All he had to do was load the bags into her car and to get to his car. Then he could take a cold shower and return back to himself and this beautiful woman could return back to hers without his interruption.

“Hey. Why don’t I show you around Caber City sometime?”

Those ten words were enough to make Erik completely lose control. Oh how close you were to being a free woman, he thought silently. With a sinister smile Erik agreed to the woman’s offer.

“I’d love that.”

54 notes · View notes

baewritez · 3 months ago

Text

Hello.

Before anything I am a BLACK women. Now that is clear let set some healthy boundaries.

No bullying of any kind will be allowed.

No racist comments or racial slurs.

Please be patient with me updating any bodies of work. ( I am only human and a college student.)

Yes request are open however DO NOT SPAM my dm box.

Be respectful of my writing choices.

Not following this will result in automatic blocking. Now that is clear I would like to introduce myself. Hello , my name is Bae. I am 24 years old , I hail from sunny Miami ,Florida , and I am a Leo and Cancer clasp. I write black women romance and adult fanfiction with a focus on plus size and curvy women. The request box is open and i will be updating and posting new work every Wednesday. Love you all and welcome to Baewritez.

51 notes · View notes

ceceslibrary · 7 months ago

Text

CECE'S FIC RECS 2

BTS

Updated: April 28th, 2024

Fic rec list 1

Namjoon

Namjoon Drabble | rkivepetals

Jin

Golden Boy | kpopfanfictrash

When it Rains | cravetive

Yoongi

Just for me | luv-gukkie

Between the Titles | highvern

Relief | ressjeon

Jhope

Bound | explicit-tae

Heaven Sent | aquagustd

Love Quarrels | mirahuyooo

Make Me | violetsiren90

Sticky | starbandit

Jimin

Dressing Room Quickie | swanlakebaby

The Pitfalls of Silk | ctrlhope

Taehyung

Summer Heat | tastefully-in-luv

Jungkook

Sin For Me | c0llisiion

When I see you cry it makes me smile | kooberist

First Place | kooeater

Is you is or is you ain't | ki-yomii

Press Play | jj-one

White | hoseoksluna

TEMPEST | kooktrash

Will it Fit? | jeonsweetpea

The Boy is Mine | joonberriess

OT7

Little Do You Know | yoongiofmine

Ateez

San

Backstage Back Shots | kitten4sannie

WWE

Jimmy Uso

Pool Party | shes2real

Jey Uso

Trouble | solefae

Sugar Baby | von2dutch

Roman Reigns

Tension | heauxvibez

Strong | joannasteez

Michael B. Jordan/Erik Killmonger

Erik and London | nahimjustfeelingit-writes

297 notes · View notes

theereina · 2 months ago

Text

The chokehold that Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre) and Erik "Killmonger" Stevens (Michael B. Jordan) have me in is critical.

#aaron pierre #michael b jordan #terry richmond #erik stevens #erik killmonger #killmonger #rebel ridge #black panther #marvel #aaron pierre fic #michael b jordan fic #terry richmond fic #killmonger fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #black reader #black female oc #black female reader #terry richmond fanfic

89 notes · View notes

henneseyhoe · 1 year ago

Text

The Return Of Killjoy.

Killmonger x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of death, gory descriptions, mentions of religion, possession, choking, rough s*x, cu*khold, !SLIGHT CNC!.

Ps. I’ll edit this fully later, so if y’all see random pov switches then ignore it really quick. I just wanted it out before Halloween was over Lmfao.

✮✮✮✮

“You sure you wanna watch this, Trey? I just feel iffy” She expressed to her boyfriend, fiddling with the frills on her socks. Her stomach felt queasy, and her nerves were higher than usual all that day. It could be because she knew that there were plans made to do something she had no instest in, plans to watch an old slasher film, but even before she knew it was this movie in particular, she had already felt a bad feeling come over her body.

“You need to calm down, baby. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and we both know this shit is fake” Trey brushes her off in a nonchalant way, putting the vhs tape into the tv.

“Trey, please. We can watch a classic! Friday 13th?” He ignores her again, playing with the buttons on the television. “This movie is like 80 years old, who knows what type of old ass voodoo is on it?! we needed a fuckin’ box tv to watch this shit, and everybody saying it’s cursed!” She continues to press him, hoping he’d realize how stupid the whole situation was. She was never the type to be scared of movies, but she heard around town about what people saw in the tapes, and she wasn’t trying to be added to the list of people who lost their minds after watching.

Some stories she heard included people gouging their own eyes out, projectile vomiting everywhere only five minutes into the film, some even lose consciousness. “Are you even listening? Trey!” She pushed him, the boy still seeking no interest in what she was saying. She was so convinced that she could change his mind and that she had time to all before, but obviously he was adamant on watching the movie to understand the hype and fear surrounding.

“…someone literally stopped talking for an entire week after watching it. If that ain’t enough proof for you, I dunno what is!” Crossing her arms, she huffs like an upset toddler, over him ignoring her for a ‘stupid little movie’.

“That was just a drawn out joke! Wasn’t shit wrong with that woman” He says, using the tv remote to navigate through the options to start the movie. There was no turning back now, the tape beginning to roll.

✮✮✮✮

Trey yawns for the fifth time that night. She couldn’t tell if he was tired of just wanted to pretend like the scenes wasn’t scary. The movie started out with a blood curdling scream that made both the young adults cover their ears, Trey attempting to turn it down with the remote, which didn’t work, but even when he put it on mute, the scream continued. After that was the most gruesome death scene either of them had ever seen in a movie that old. It was almost too real. The main character, or who they thought was the main character, was killed only five minutes into the film. The masked man had captured her in her own home and hung her upside down with chains wrapped around her ankles. She was completely undressed, naked glory there to gawk at. Y/N caught Trey doing exactly that for a moment before the woman was split in half completely from the top down with a seemingly dull machete.

Y/N gags strongly while clenching her thick thighs closed as she watched the woman rip in half, screaming in agony until she stopped before the man could even pull the blade all the way through her body. He hacked away multiple times before he had even reached the end of her, blood splattering all over the hardwood floor.

“Ewww!” Y/N let out a girlish squeal while kicking her feet up and covering her face. Trey shook his head. “This shit is not scary, you doin too much”

“Shut up! This shit is makin’ me sick, turn it off”

“Why? You scared?”

“Yes! Stop playin’ and turn it off”

Trey rolls his eyes and laughs, switching his position so he was kneeling in front of his fearsome girlfriend. “It’s not real” she shake her head, her face still scrunched with disgust while Trey laughs at herfit. “Lemme comfort my little cry baby” he teased and kisses her lips. She melted from his touch, feeling safer than before. Trey’s hands roam her body, going for her shirt to pull it right off her body. Y/N’s safe feeling didn’t last too long, a feeling in her stomach creeping up onto her, telling her to open her eyes, which she reluctantly complied to.

Watching the screen behind Trey, multiple pictures of gore flashed as the film continued, the next picture even more disturbing than the next until the screen flashed a picture that had her jumping out of her skin, goosebumps covering her body.

She pushes her boyfriend away with a scream. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” She panicked, tears welling in her eyes. “Damn, Y/N! You almost bit my fuckin’ tongue off!” Trey shouts, tasting blood in his mouth from the girl biting down on his lip. “What are you on about now?!” Trey glanced back at the screen, but it had changed to a normal part in the movie.

Y/N couldn’t even begin to explain the feeling in her chest. The picture she saw that flashed lastly was a picture of her. In that same spot. With Trey laying next to her, his face looking as if it was bludgeoned, features beyond recognition.

“STOP FUCKING WITH ME, TREY! IM SERIOUS! IT AINT FUNNY!” She freaked, her chest heaving as Trey looked at her in confusion.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. If you that scared then I’ll just turn it off, damn” he reaches for the remote and clicks the tv off, yet the screen went no where. Still playing the movie, Trey tried clicking the buttons on the TV to turn it off, but the film stayed put. He sighs. “Look, it’s an old tv, baby. We can smash this shit right after if it makes you happy” he said, turning back to her. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her again, tasting salty tears on her lips. As she gave into his temptation, the kiss progressed to him laying her down and undressing them both fully.

Trey took it upon himself to pleasure her first, something he rarely did, but Y/N brushed it off as him trying to make her feel better. Spreading her legs out for him, Trey dove in, beginning to lap up her swelling clit as she used her hands to play in his hair.

They were cornrowed back, neatly placed in straight lines and she found herself tugging at the ends of them while he slurped her up. He uses her thigh as a headrest for him so he could eat without getting tired, but his patters were already sending the girl into overdrive.

“Yes, Trey” She calls out to him, her other hand gracing her wet lips. She sticks her tongue out and licks a long stripe along her pointer finger and thumb, using her own spit as lube to twist her nipples softly. Trey had suctioned his entire mouth around her clit, beginning to suck while his fingers dipped into her honeypot, giving her a reason for her eyes to be rolling backwards into her head like they were doing.

What was into him? She had never experienced this type of behavior. She couldn’t even remember the last time she came from head alone, but this time felt so different to her.

She had wondered when he had gotten so skilled at this..and when he got a tongue.. or when he got dreads.

Popping her head upwards, Y/N’s heart completely drops. The man that was between her legs was no longer her boyfriend, but the same psycho killer that shook her up just a few minutes ago. Her adrenaline rushes, her brown eyes becoming wide with her jaw being stuck hanging low like she had just been hit with a brick. “—oh fuck” She moans, the demon himself keeping himself latched on her clit, shaking his head from side to side. He rubs his plump lips against her clit while humming, vibrations spreading throughout the girls body before she came, a tongue being right there to catch all that she was giving before it was his turn to get his.

✮✮✮✮

“Like this, baby?” The man stared deep into her soul while stroking her, his callused hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Y/N shook with fear, but she couldn’t stop the moans falling from her lips. Turning towards the tv, she watched as Trey begged and pleaded on mute, slamming his hands against the windowed screen he was trapped in. Before a singular teardrop slipped from her eye, killjoy had already turned her head back towards him, giving her no permission to look at anything but him.

“Take it. Take it like a good fuckin’ girl” He grunts, gripping her thigh and pushing it back so far that she was basically folded in. It took strength to endure the beating he was putting on her, and the little bit she had left was gradually growing weaker. He was to blame for every reaction she was currently having, from the jagged breathing all the way down to the helpless whimpers. She thought he would have never stopped, until he did, his hips colliding with hers one last time before he stops, laying a smack on her thighs.

“Now, sit that ass on it” He demands. It was like she had no control over her own body, the real version of herself watching behind her eyes in utter shock. Flipping them both over, Killjoy does the honors of pushing himself back inside of her, Y/N using the strength of her calves to bounce on the tip of his dick. It was still so much for her, he was barely inside and she already felt so full. “I can’t-“ she chokes out as her legs shake, her body cowering on top of him. Killjoy grunts in annoyance, his patience running low for the girl. He was fed up. How was she gonna be a good host if she was a coward?

Giving her that jumpstart she needed, he lays three hard smacks on her ass, sending Y/N jumping forward with a yelp, landing right back on his dick. She slid down on his thick pole completely, her thighs closing together. “Unt-Unt. Open them legs, lemme see that pretty pussy” He says, completely disregarding her stiff movements and thrusting his hips upwards. She wasn’t even thinking straight at this point, she couldn’t have answered a question if you asked.

“I’m gonna cum!” She shouts, fisting his locs in her hand, a guttural groan escaping his mouth at the hair tugs. Only the lucky knew how he liked it rough, and not one of those lucky people were alive anymore to tell the story of how killjoy himself broke them in on Halloween night. Now, it was her turn.

“Cum on this dick, pretty girl. It’s yours” He taunts with a devilish smirk, but that only made Y/N teeter over the line of ecstasy and unconsciousness just a little more.

“I’m- im-“

“Uh-huh. Show yo’ man how a real nigga do it”

“FU-“

“Show him how a real nigga make you cum!”

“FUCK”

She stops bouncing, but killjoy kept his hips jack hammering up into her, his arms arms going around her waist to hold her in her spot as he fucked her pussy with no remorse. Y/N was praying to the heavens that it would stop and this would just be some crazy wet dream, but it kept going.

“No need to pray now. He can’t help you” Killjoy speaks into the girls ears, his voice echoing in her head like they were in an empty room.

She could hear her water splashing against him, and he had no means to stop just yet.

✮✮✮✮

#black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #michael b. jordan fic #michael b jordan smut #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b. jordan #michael b jordan x reader #killmonger fic #king killmonger #erik killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #killjoy #henneseyhoe #black actors

319 notes · View notes

nareyacute101 · 2 years ago

Text

I Can Give You A Ride

this imagine is inspired by my fav movie from a24 “X” so I hope y’all enjoy!

Erik Killmonger x Black Farmers Daughter! Reader

You were just minding your business on a beautiful Saturday afternoon making some lemonade since you were very thirsty. As you were about to pour you a glass, you hear the the doorbell ring. “Daddy isn’t expecting anyone over” you said while walking to the door.

You open the door to see this fine chocolate man with some blue jeans on with a red and black plaided shirt and some timberland boots.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Erik and my car ran out of gas, so I was wondering if I could use your phone to call someone to help?” The stranger who goes by the name Erik said to you from outside the door. “Oh my goodness, well Mr. Erik I’m not sure if there’s any mechanic shops around her but my daddy is a mechanic and he could try to fix your car” You said while biting your lip innocently but sexy. “Okay, will he be able to fix it right now before dark?”

You thought for a second before smirking with an idea to keep him here “My daddy is out of town right now to do something supposedly “important” but…I could give you a ride.”

“Okay thank you so much, so where’s your car?” Erik asked your concerned. “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of ride sir.” You said pulling him in the door and touching his chest. “So, what kind of ride are you talkin-” he cut himself off know what she was talking about “Ohh, yeah I would definitely love that ride, ma” he mocked the same smirk you had on your face. “Well, let’s go to my room so I can help you out” you walked him up the stairs to your room, feeling his gaze on your ass.”

“FUCKKK!” You yelled while bouncing up and down on Erik’s dick. “Yeah, you like this dick huh Princess?” He asked while looking at you and your bouncing tits. You nodded to his question “No baby, I need words” he smacked your ass and you squealed “Yes, omg your dick is so big” you leaned your head back from the pleasure that you were getting from his long, curvy dick.

“Fuck, I can’t leave from this tight wet pussy” Erik said while getting ready to hold you and thrust up really fast. “FUCKFUCKFUCK” you screamed from the sudden thrusts up your pussy. “What’s my name babygirl?” “DADDYYYY! OMG IM GONNA CUM” “Me too baby, now who’s pussy is this?” Erik kept going to meet his and your climax “This your pussy daddy, please make me cum!” Erik thrusted three more time before you both grunted after reaching your climax.

“So, was that the best ride you’ve ever had Daddy?” You asked in a sweet voice “Hell yeah princess. Now, when is your dad coming home?”

You shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know but maybe in a few minutes, why?” You asked him. “Well one, I wanna try to get home before dark and two maybe we can do another round before he gets home” he licked his soft plump lips while looking at you up and down.

“Lets do it Daddy” you smiled while being rolled over by Erik and having a heated make out session.

I’m sorry y’all had to read thee worse sex scene ever but I tried okay 😭

#farmer!reader #farmers daughter #killmonger x reader #erik stevens imagine #erik x oc #erik killmonger imagine #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan #black fanfic writer #erik x reader #erik killmonger smut #michael b jordan smut #black panther imagine #x a24

996 notes · View notes

tallulahneale · 3 months ago

Text

Title: You play too much

Pairing: Vince staples x fem!reader

Summary: Home girl who loves to get ate but doesn’t suckie suckie and wants to prove Vince wrong.

Word count: 1k

a/n: Where are all the Vince Staples lovers at?!?!

Tagline: “I’m not selfish”

Friday night and all the guys on your roster had served their purpose. Eating you out. You enjoyed it more than any other intimate act. So with nothing to do, you hit up your homeboy Vince. You and Vince go back since kindergarten, kinda drifted apart during high school but y’all reconnected during college.

You check the time, 5:18pm. “It’s not that late and chick-fil-a has drive-in perfect!” You thought to yourself. You reach for your phone to call Vince, he’s a homebody so you know he’ll be down to kick it with you.

*Ring ring*

“Hello?” Vince answers.

“Can you pick up some chick-fil-a pleaseeee? I’m peckish and bored.”

“Hello to you too nigga. Get you some manners”

You pause. You know he’s serious and you don’t like that.

“…”, ignoring what he said.

“… y/n, I know you can hear me” he continues, sounding unbothered.

“I want ice tea this time please. Ohh and the new honey pepper sandwiches! Thank youuu”

“Why you always like this bruh? FYI, you need some salad in your diet…”

“Hey! Be Nice!”

“Says the person that can’t even say hello.”

This nigga always doing the most, you thought to yourself.

“You’re coming over anyway so I’ll say hello when you get here. Killing two birds with one stone.” You replied smartly.

“Whatever cuh, I’ll be at yours around 6.”

“Okay; thank youuuu! Byeeee!”

“See you so-“

*Click*

You cleaned up around the flat and went to freshen up. Changing into your nightgown, the one that kept granny pregnant and all her bills paid! It’s extra comfy and you didn’t want to tease Vince. Recently, he’s been calling you out on a lot of your bs and you didn’t want to hear it today. Plus you knew you weren’t going out, once Vince came you’ll probably watch movies till you fall asleep.

The buzzer rings and you press the intercom, already knowing it’s Vince. You look at your outfit one more time to make sure you look presentable.

*Knock knock*

You open the door and see the bag of food on your welcome mat.

“I know damn well he didn’t just drop my food on the mat like I’m a raccoon.”

Vince jumps out the corner, startling you.

“Vince! Don’t do that! You know how I be spazzing out!” You give him a hug, “How have you been?”

Vince picks up the bags and follows you in.

“I’ve been good you know. Just getting ready for the Black in America Tour and the new season of the show, you know the usual.”

“I hear that! I’m hella excited for all of it, you really deserve all and more!”, you beam.

“I really appreciate that and you too cuh. You the homie for real.” He said giving you a hug before settling down on the couch.

“You’re welcome. You can pick what to watch, I’ve just been watching re-runs and I’m bored of them too.”

“Alright, but don’t complain when I pick one of my favourite 80s show.”

You grab a plate and a tray for the food. Just as you set it on the table, you hear your phone ringing. You check to see Peter Peter pumpkin eater calling. Vince sees it too and shakes his head. “Here we go again”, you thought to yourself.

“Why are you shaking your head like that?” You ask, knowing he’s about to say the truth that you’ve been avoiding.

Vince stares straight at you with an unimpressed expression “Why you save his name like that?” He says.

“You know why V, don’t make me say it.”

Sometimes you feel shy talking about intimate things with him, maybe because you know he’s cute but he’s your homeboy and you want to respect that boundary.

“First of all, that’s weird because the story is about a husband whose wife cheats and doesn’t know how to keep her. Secondly, I’ve seen Marcus the muncher, Louis the licker and Simon the sucker all call you before. Y/N you are creative af but you’re still wrong for all that.”

“You bet not be judging me like you don’t have a list of girl names saved worse and anyway, why you be looking at my phone. Mind your business sometimes” you say, feeling heated and a bit embarrassed.

“I know you’re still doing the “get licked and get kicked” out. Selfish ass.”

“I’m not selfish!” You exclaim.

“…”

“… I’m not! Quit tryna get me to feel guilty. You know what, I’mma prove you wrong. Tired of you being all high and mighty.”

You go to sit down on the couch right beside him, staring shyly into his eyes. He looks back at you with an intense smouldering expression. You’re not sure what he’s thinking so you ignore it. You gently run your fingertips across his bare arms, tracing his veins which draw your attention more than usual. You wink at him again before looking away. You bend over, arching your back closer to his zip, slowly pulling down, you realise that his little big friend is awake. Just as you’re about to pull it out, you look up and whisper to him…

“I told you I’m not selfish.”

You smirk and sip your ice tea.

——The End——

#erik killmonger smut #vince staples #fem!reader #black reader #poc reader #smut #musician #seduction #Vince staples x reader #original character #tnblog #marvel #fanfic #oneshot #complete #fanfiction #lemon #x yn

28 notes · View notes

artisticestheticreads · 1 month ago

Text

Summertime Magic XIV

A/N: Heyyy, how you doin’? Okay okay. I know it’s BEEN years BUT I’ve been a hell of busy for so long. I got into streaming, creating content on YouTube, traveling, and enjoying life. I noticed that my SummerTime Magic fan fic has been in rotation lately… so why not bring it back for the last two chapters for the one time? I had been rereading every chapter, flaw and all, and realized my writing has gotten way over the years and I won’t lie, I missed y’all so much. So let's finish this story off strong.

To Catch Up, Press Here.

Warning: Some fluffy Daka, some lovey-dovey stuff... and maybe, some stuff at the end that would y'all heart and soul.

Word Count: 7598

There was a couple leaning in a silver Nissan Altima, wearing all black hiding in the night. “So, what you got planned to fuck them over,” said the man who was still upset N’Jadaka has his ex now. He looked towards the woman and said “just know, you inspired this plan… a lot.” The woman was about to do something to ruin what a good thing the couple had, but she didn’t care and was willing to do anything to let Y/N know she made a huge mistake.

Y/N was in her office at her brand new shop before the day started. Her hair was in goddess cornrows, charms and golden thread braided into each one. She wore the jewelry her man gifted her from their anniversary with a white leotard bodysuit, long, jaded green skirt with a slit on the side and some nude heels that paired perfectly with her golden bracelets. One by one, her crew started to make their way in and began to prepare for the day; the day started at 9 am and ended at 7 pm.

“Okay, everyone. We have quite a few appointments today including hair, nails, and waxes. We have all eight people here so we should be good along with having our entire receptionist team as well. Our goal is to make at least $10K which is possible with all the high school events and weddings happening around this time, yeah?” Her team agreed before she checked the time on her phone; it was about to hit 8:50 and she could spot the repeating customers driving and waiting in the parking lot in front of the shop, coffees and breakfast in hand. Y/N nodded as the team dispersed and began to set the music and TV on.

The day began and she knew it was going to be a long one ahead of her. She tied her apron around her tightly and began with her first customer, dye touch up and retwist. She had her neo soul mix on Spotify play throughout the shop as she worked on her male client, laughing with his mom who wanted her boy to not embarrass the family name nor his girlfriend for prom happening the next day. Y/N decided to throw in a free line up to make sure he was extra fresh; the mom tipped her a hundred and fifty dollars.

Her next client was a loud mouth teen whose prom was the day of but she claimed to be “tender headed”. The young lady wanted everything done to her head to the point it looked like a tornado swept up Kansas so Y/]N convinced her to do a simple yet curly middle part bust down with her red 28 inches of weave; the young lady tipped her twenty bucks but her father slid her and extra two hundred for the time and trouble.

Before she knew it, it was already one pm so she started to head to her parents’ home to visit and eat lunch with her mom since she was working from home that day. Y/N pulled up in front of the house and stepped out fixing her skirt. She began to walk up the steps when she heard her father yell out. “I SMELL SHEA BUTTER AND COCONUT OIL!!!! MY FIRST BORN IS HERE!!!!”; Y/N laughed before walking in and her father made his way to her on a cane, still healing his knees. “Hey, pa. How you healing?”

“Shit, I feel brand new now but ya raggedy ass momma made me get a cane just in case.” “I heard that, muthafucka. Y/N/N, I’m in the kitchen, baby.”

Tommy looked at his eldest child and whispered “ya ass got me in trouble.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen with a grin. Tasha was making lunch for the family which was a huge Caesar Salad inspired pasta with the salad on the side and toasted rolls. “Hey, momma.” “Hey, momma’s baby. How is the shop doin’?” “Good, money looking real nice with the prom season and graduation around the corner. Been booked and oh so busy”, explained Y/N after she kissed her mother’s sweet cheek. Her mom was in the middle of chopping the crispy chicken in bite size pieces and placing them into the pasta. “Okayyyy, I see you, big money. I am so proud of you, baby. Like you started from doing hair in your home to having your own shop. You didn’t let anything or anyone stop you. Not only that but you have that handsome young man, N’Jadaka too. How are y’all speaking of", asked her mother, smiling and knowing what surprise awaited her. Y/N smiled as she said “we are great, actually. He has been busy since the center opened and all but he is just… great.” Tasha turned to see her daughter looking at the ground in deep thought and walked over to her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, momma.” “Y/N/N, baby, something is wrong. I know you better than anyone else in the entire world. Are you sure you and N’Jadaka are okay?” Tasha turned the pasta pot on a low boil and grabbed her daughter’s arm, interlocking with hers, as they walked to the front porch; they sat side by side on the bench. “Alright, tell me the truth. What’s wrong, best friend?” Y/N looked at her mother as she waited, looking into her eyes back; she sighed and began. “I just, I feel like something bad is going to happen. The shop is a success, my relationship is amazing, pa is healing, CJ is heading to college soon. I just-I just feel like something bad is going to happen soon.” “Now, why would you put that in the universe, baby? You have been through so much before N’Jadaka came into your life. Yes, you were happy before but since you met him, I can tell that y’all make each other better. He just brings out even more confidence than before. He makes you happy. When you were with Rodney…”. Tasha paused and took a deep breath as she remembered all the pain her baby girl dealt with before finishing. “Baby, when you were with Rodney, he absolutely drained you. You didn’t eat. You didn't sleep. You were attached to him in the worst way and it took for him to cheat on you and put his hands on you to see that you needed to leave him. But with N’Jadaka, you are your best self and , baby, we love that for you.” Y/N looked away, thinking of her mother’s words, slowly smiling to herself. “He is great, huh?”

“Sure is. And I can tell that y’all have a bright future ahead. Maybe, one day, if God is willing, y’all will have your own family. Maybe, a little girl and a little boy will be running around this yard one day. A nice intimate wedding, a nice big house like you always wanted. And you know, I can see you and that young man, old and gray talking to your grandbabies about how y’all met and fell in love.” Y/N looked over at her mother who smiled at her and she began to mirror it with her nose scrunched up like hers. Y/N giggled with her momma as she wrapped her arm around her and said “thank you, mommy.” “You are very welcome, baby. Now, let’s get back in befo-.” “TASHA, WHERE MY DAMN FOOD AT WOMAN?!”, yelled out Tommy making Y/N chuckled as her mother rolled her eyes once they stood up and entered the home again. ~

N’Jadaka was standing in front of the history classroom of the center wearing his golden frame glasses, navy blue slacks, white collared button down with the sleeves rolled up and black dress shoes. His locs were freshly twisted and braided backwards to stay out of his face. “Alright, kings and queens. Today, we will be discussing the truth about the African American bloodline. Now, if y’all can turn to chapter 4, page 36, you will see that today’s topic will be the truth of black royalty.” He leaned his buttocks against the desk and turned to the page he had bookmarked with a red tab. “Alright, in the 18th and 19th centuries, Europe had several black and mixed race people as royalty. The first one who we will be discussing is Queen Charlotte. Now, with features reputed to be conspicuously African by her contemporaries, it is no wonder that the Black community, both in the U.S. and-.” “Mr. Stevens, my daddy said there ain’t no such thing as black royalty”, said a ten year old child in the class, making the others look at her then at him, anticipating the answer. Erik looked at the young lady and took a deep breath before asking “Miss Zasha, what do I do for a living?”

“You’re our teacher.”

“And what does your ‘daddy’ do for a living, Miss Zasha?”

“He a mechanic.”

Erik slowly blinked at her answer with a tight mouth that made some of the children laugh. His eyes stayed on the young lady until he went back to the book, continuing to read. Thirty minutes had passed and the bell rang for the lunch period to begin; his class was dismissed and he began to prepare for lunch himself until he heard a knock on the door. Erik turned to see Sheila at the door, smiling big at her brother. “What’s good, sis”, he said, placing his hands in his pockets and leaning as he watched her enter; she wore a rainbow bodycon dress, cropped jean jacket with black and white vans. “Oh, everything is swell.” Erik looked at his long time friend with a suspicious brow and said “what are you finna ask me, Sheila?” “Nothing, jackass. Why are you asking me that?” “Lemme guess. Bro opened his big mouth about the surprise trip I have planned.” Sheila clutched her imaginary pearls as she gasped loudly, making Erik chuckle. “A surprise trip?! Why, he never told me anything about that! Oh, Jerald. Why have you forsaken me”, said the dramatic woman as she held her heart and placed her other hand on her forehead, palm facing the sky. “Quit the act, Sheila. Y’all make me sick.” Sheila rolled her eyes playfully before sitting at the desk in front of him. “So, you are finally popping the question, huh? When is the trip?”

“Shit, next week but they I been working I'm chilling before the trip. I got a whole thing planned for Friday night though. Gonna take her to the beach since it’s getting warm as fuck again. I got some folks to set up a whole outdoor dining thing over there and I ordered food from our first anniversary spot. I got her favorite bakery spot to make her cake, that place called Sweets or something like that by the shop. Then I show her a fake text that shows our ‘plane tickets’. I had to convince the Dora Milaje to dress like a whole fuckin’ aircraft crew and B’s boys, too. Then, BOOM the big muthafuckin’ reveal. She will come back as my fiance and maybe even the mother of my children.” N’Jadaka sat so proud of his plans that he didn’t even notice his sister staring at him with glee. “You good, sis”, he asked and she sat with her chin resting on her hands.

“You are so happy. And I love y’all so much.”

“C’mon, Sheila.” She stood from her seat as she said “I’m serious, JD. After the last bitch, you said you would swear off women and rather die a virgin. You gave up the dream of marriage, and babies, and having the family you always wanted. Like your parents and uncle wanted for you. Then, you got sprung on Y/N thick ass.” N’Jadaka looked at her, chuckling away as she took a place next to him. Sheila continued as she looked at him. “JD, I am so happy that you found your sunshine on your cloudy days.” N’Jadaka looked over at his female friend, wrapped his arm softly around her neck and kissed her head. “Thanks, sis. I appreciate y’all. But you know, Y/N might be on to me.”“Eh, women know when something is up. But no worries. Her family and your people ain’t spilling shit.”

They gave one another dap before heading out to get some food finally and talk more about the plans. ~

The day was finally over and Y/N was about to close out shop. Her team left one by one after cleaning their stations and helping tidy up the place before they all left. Y/N locked the doors behind each one before heading to the back, about to finish the lock up process. She placed all the money from the register in the money counter and started recording the amount down to the cent, $11,845.28 was made for the night. She placed the amount in the money bags and into her lock box N’Jadaka gifted her since her old one was worn and torn. Y/N placed it into her purse before grabbing her keys along with her phone before turning off her office light. She began to make her way to the door when he noticed him standing there. He wore all black to hide in the dark but she could see his eyes piercing through the glass. Rodney stood there watching her move even in the dimly lit room. Her first thought was how she would get to her even though he leaned against the hood. Y/N thought of only one thing she could do. She headed back to her office, using the switch to turn the light on after dialing the number and talking to the person on the other side. Y/N locked the door behind her and sat at her desk waiting for her rescue to arrive.

It felt as if she waited hours as her eyes got slightly heavy when all of a sudden, she heard footsteps inching closer to her office door. She stood from her desk slowly, eyes on the door and worry on her face as she waited quietly. Before she knew it, she heard knocking on the door which came off loud with her drowsiness kicking in. Her heart started to beat through her breasts just thinking about that man attacking her again like in the past; her soul was terrified to say the least. “Baby girl, it’s me, Daka. Open the door, baby”; she heard the voice she waited for, calming her rattled nerves. N’Jadaka had come to the rescue… or so she thought. When she sprinted to open the door, Rodney stood there with a devilish grin. He reached for her neck, pressing down hard and that’s when it happened…

Y/N had sprung up swinging her arms but felt something pull her in. She looked up to meet eyes with her man who looked down at her while rubbing her back. “You okay, princess”, his voice calmed her as he placed kisses on her head. “Hey, baby.” “Hey, baby. You good in here? I tried callin’ to let you know I was in the lot but I guess you was knocked out.” Y/N placed her head into his chest and began to heavily sniff his cologne which made him erupt with laughter. “Been a long day huh?” She mumbled against his chest but he lifted her head to look at him. “I didn’t catch any of that, princess. What you say?” “Yes, the longest.” “Awe, well. I have dinner ready at home waiting for us. Then I will give you a nice bubble bath and a deep tissue massage-” “And dick”, Y/N said in a sweet, innocent yet excited tone, looking up at him with big eyes. Erik chuckled and said “yes, dick too. Now, c’mon, baby.” They made their way to the parking lot where they hopped in separate cars, him following behind.

~ The next morning at exactly 6 am, N’Jadaka sat on the island looking at his children's stats from his history class. He had on his gold rimmed glasses, a basic white tee and jeans as he held his coffee with one hand. Y/N was making breakfast for the pair wearing his tee and nothing underneath. N’Jadaka watched her move around the kitchen, smiling in between glances of the children’s work and his future wife. He can only imagine their wedding day, her in a cream toned gown with gold accents created by the best seamstress in all of Wakanda; her beauty would be a wonderful addition to the view around them. He wondered how their kids would look, how they would act. Yes, Y/N may not be able to have children but with the best healthcare in his home country, it would be 200% possible, studies show.

Y/N placed his plate of four egg whites, four slices of French toast, bacon and a bowl of brown sugar oatmeal as she kissed his forehead and refreshed his coffee. “I made our lunch for today. Just the dinner from last night so we can get rid of it easier. And, of course, I put some of the green tea and a jug of your alkaline water with your tumbler.” She grabbed her bowl of oatmeal and small plate of toast, bacon and eggs and indulged before the busy day ahead. She was reading through the emails on her phone when she felt kisses on her free hand; she turned to look at N’Jadaka, fully immersed in showing her love. Y/N won’t lie but she was a bit suspicious of him being overly affectionate with her lately; she of course shrugged it off as she watched him. She leaned into his hand that held her wrist and shared her own kisses, making him smile and look at her, with so much love in their eyes.

“Why are you so lovey dovey this morning, mister”, Y/N asked but she only received kisses between the words he spoke. “Because” kiss. “I” kiss. “Have” kiss. “Someone” kiss. “Who” kiss. “Loves” kiss. “Me” kiss. His eyes met her and she can tell by the look on his face. “Daka, what are hidin’?” N’Jadaka looked into her face and made a deep sigh. “Nothing, baby girl. Why I gotta be hiding something, Y/N/N.” Y/N looked into his face trying to read it until she heard “baby, you can’t pull a me on me. I’m stone compared to your bubble.” He gently placed her hand down and continued to eat as she did the same, in comfortable silence and leaving her in her thoughts.

An hour passed when N’Jadaka was sitting on the couch looking at the plans for the following night wearing his chosen work attire; it would be one of the biggest nights in his life. He went through the list to check if everything was confirmed. Yellow, white and pink roses, check. Dinner ordered from The District,check. The reservation to close the whole beach just for the dinner, expensive but check. And everything ready for the proposal back home, a HUGE check. He leaned back looking at the time on his phone, 7:25 AM. He thanked Bast that the traffic from the house to the center was nonexistent especially with how he drove. He dug in his pocket to retrieve the ring box that contained the engagement ring. N’Jadaka leaned over, elbows on knees and opened the box which lit up around the ring, showing every detail of the beautiful piece of jewelry that would change things forever. “She gonna love this shit.”

“Daka, have you seen my chain”; Daka heard his lady and could also feel how close she was near so he quickly placed the ring back into his pocket and closed his laptop. Y/N walked over to the couch where he sat in her sunny yellow flare bottom pants, white tank top, high top all white converse and hair in a low bun with her goddess braids; looked around and saw the necklace resting on the coffee table. She grabbed it and as she placed it on, she noticed her man’s body language. “Daka, what’s wrong?” “Hm? What you mean, baby?” Y/N looked over at her man even more whose legs were extra folded. and just shook her head to herself saying “nothing, Daka. You think you can still pick me up tonight after work? I don’t want to be caught by myself when that nigga pops up again.” N’Jadaka nodded, saying, “Of course, baby. I got you. Shit, I’ll bring my glock too just in case.” Y/N laughed as she grabbed her bag and he stood, placing a kiss to her lips before they headed out but he forgot one important thing.

It was around three pm at the shop as Y/N sat in her own chair, enjoying her break, hearing the chatter in her salon, making her smile. “All I’m saying is, I want a nigga with a curve. That muthafucka being thick means nothing. It’s that length and curve that matters, okaayyyyy!!!”; the woman all hollered and laughed through the shop. “Y/N doll, what about you? Does size matter?” All the girls laughed as Y/N was placed in the hot seat but little did they know, she could take the heat. “Psh, please. I got a man with all three. I’m good over here”; all the girls cheered, laughed and high five each other.

The bell of the shop door rang but before Y/N welcomed them in, Y/N noticed the man. It was Rodney who stood there, eyes trained on her face and thanked the women who did welcome him in. He wore a black V-neck, tan cargos, and gray New Balance 570s with his hair under a durag. “Hey there. Welcome in, I’m Stacie. Do you have an appointment” asked the receptionist at the front door. Rodney leaned in with a smile and replied. “Yes, ma’am. Under Tyler Calvin.”

“Tyler. Tyler?” Her fingers typing in each letter until his name popped up. “Ah, I see it here. And even better news, you have it with our very own Y/N Y/L/N”, Stacie said before eagerly passing him a water and leading him to Y/N who stood, heart beating through her chest and palms feeling hot and sweaty. The couple reached her section and Stacie said “Miss Y/L/N, your 3:30 is here early”; she skipped back to her spot as the pair stood off. Y/N knew that he knew she hated to have altercations publicly which gave him an excuse to be manipulative and repulsive. “Hello, Miss Y/L/N. I’m Tyler”; she stood in complete silence.

~ “Alright, class. Don’t forget I have to meet your parents tomorrow morning before I go on my break.” The class awed and sounded saddened as N’Jadaka stood in front with arms folded. He loved the kids and they loved him even more and it made him sad just thinking he would be gone for a while but knew once he came back and told them he was engaged, they would be super excited. “I know I know but I’ll be back before you know it. Now, class is dismissed. If you are staying behind with the after hours program, you can meet your assigned teacher in the eating hall. I’ll catch you tomorrow”; the class began to all say their goodbyes as they ran out but that’s when he noticed Miss Zasha was still in her seat. “Miss Zasha, is your pops running late again?”

“No, my auntie Shay Shay is picking me up. She runn-” “She is”, N’Jadaka said, correcting with a brow raised and hands behind his back. Zasha looked up at him and said “she is running late.” N’Jadaka nodded as he began to clean up and prepare to head out himself. He sent a quick text to the ones he missed from Shuri, his boys, Sheila and of course, his future wife; the prince couldn’t wait for tomorrow night. He knew that she would be a beautiful wife. Just the thought of her reaction to the island view of Wakanda made him smile to himself as he heard the sound of heels clicking in the hall. “TT Shay Shay”, Zasha exclaimed with excitement, hopping from her seat. But when N'Jadaka turned with his briefcase-like bag in hand, he could feel his blood boil once he saw the mysterious woman; it was Kesha, wearing a burgundy skirt suit combo with cheetah print heels and her hair cut into a bob. N’Jadaka met eyes with Kesha which made her stand straight, walking over to him. “Well, well, well. Long time no see, Mr. Udaku.” Kesha looked back to her niece and signaled her head to the playground with her friends. “My brother told me that he was scheduled to talk about Zasha and how she be in class.” “I’m meeting parents tomorrow, Kesha.” N’Jadaka was trying to dismiss her but she didn’t budge. “Daka-”. “Mr. Udaku.” N’Jadaka glared at her as he stood at his desk. She held her hands in the air then in front of her, folded. “Mr. Udaku, he scheduled it today since he is busy today and tomorrow. I’m just tryna help him out.” N’Jadaka heavily sighed as they stood looking at one another. ~

Back at the shop, Y/N had a cape around Rodney’s neck tightly before she placed him in front of the hair washing bowl. Rodney tried to look in her eyes but she wasn’t falling for the trap; she looked ahead, paying him no mind and said “lean back into the bowl, please.” He deeply chuckled before he followed the order but not without checking her body out which she noticed and placed a towel over his eyes only; Rodney took the towel off his eyes as she began washing his coarse hair. No conversation between the two which made things even more tense.

“You smell nice, I don’t remember that scent.” Y/N looked down at his face but saw that his eyes were closed while he enjoyed her fingers in his hair. She began to massage deeper into his scalp and noticed something that made her chuckle which made him ask “what’s funny?”

“Your thinning hair. Guess ya new girl can’t do hair, huh?” Rodney sighed while easing more into the chair. “I ain’t got a girl no more.” Y/N looked away still washing before he said “shorty was making my hair fall out. That’s why I’m here, so you can help me out.”“And what makes you think I would help you, Rodney?”“Because I’m in this chair right now and I know you hate makin’ a scene, shorty.” Y/N stood there, knowing it was true which made her stand silent. Rodney sighed and said “nah, but me and Ash kept on fightin’. I’m gettin’ too old for that high school shit, no cap”, no response from Y/N. “Besides, she kept talkin’ about ya man”, this caught her attention. “What did she say?”

“I knew that would get you speakin’, shorty?” She tugged his hair harshly making him wince. “OK, OK. He was tryna compare me to him. She wanted me to do everything he did besides being the whole ass virgin shit. The bitch even tried to lock my shit.”

“And that’s why you baldin’.”

“Shit and her fucking naggin’ the fuck outta me too. Had me on this fucking all protein, no carb diet tryna bulk me up and everythin’. That shit was fa sho depressin’.” Y/N nodded her head as he spoke to her about everything and thought about how her Daka could be with someone that controlling. “Man, I had to dump her because fuck all dat shit. She tried to do that instant loc bullshit on my dome and had me all fucked up. I had to call Ma Dukes to help comb that shit out. Took half my hair with it.”

“Yeah, I know you got a fucked up head inside and out”, she said thinking he would rebuttal something mean and nasty but instead she heard “yeah, yeah I know”; she looked in his face and then away as she continued to work on his scalp. ~

N’Jadaka opened up his laptop to find his notes on Zasha as Kesha watched his fingers move against the keyboard, both seated on opposite sides of his desk. “Alright, Zasha Lewis. Zasha is a bright kid like the others but she can be lazy and always wants the last word. She always talks over others saying the wrong answer over their right answer.” Kesha looked into his face as she read, closed her eyes and opened them again as she said “I’m happy for you.” N’Jadaka looked up from his laptop, with a scrunched confused look, then to Kesha’s face who looked at him with a soft, sincere look. He took off his glasses and looked at her with a raised brow and intimidating face. “Excuse me?” “I am very proud of you and Y/N.” “Kesha, we are here to talk about your-” “Lemme finish. Please,” Kesha pleaded, making N’Jadaka pull out his phone. “What are you”-. Her question was caught off once he put his strong finger in the air to silence her. He placed the phone down and pressed start on the three minute timer. “You can talk again.” She took a deep breath before saying. “I am very happy for you and my best-”. “Ex.”

“Ex best friend. Between the shop, the center and your relationship it makes me feel like black love is still alive. But I’m very happy that Y/N finally has someone like you. After her last, she didn’t want anything to do with men again. Like it was really bad. She cried a lot and I know her folks hate seeing. I just know that y’all are really happy and-.” *RING. RING. RING* The sound of N’Jadaka’s phone went off and his eyes fell on the screen, tapping it to stop the noise and he stood fixing his trousers; he began to pack his things, placed his glasses into its case and said “let Zasha’s father know I will be sending him notes on this meeting. Be easy”; with that, he made his exit as the custodian walked in to clean and lock up for N’Jadaka, leaving Kesha behind in her thoughts and texting on her phone.

Back at the shop, the beauticians and staff all talked while working on their clients when the nail stylist asked “so, Miss Boss Lady, when you think Mr. N’Jadaka gonna pop that question, hm?” Everyone whispered and asked the question again, commenting. “Yeah, Miss Y/N. He seems so amazing. Are we all invited once y’all tie the knot”, asked an excited Stacie from the wash bowl. Y/N was in the process working some oil through Rodney’s hair. “Not y’all being nosey.” “Not nosey. I just love that he loves you. Check it out. He literally sends you flowers every Wednesday at noon on the dot. Because of him, I do that for my lady now too. Expensive as shit but worth it, y’know”, said the male barber. “And don’t forget, he sends us all lunch every Friday”, said the nail stylist beside him. “Oh and plus, he comes by to sit with you every weekend to keep you company in the shop. If that isn’t a future husband then I don’t know what is, girl”, said one of the Transwomen beauticians. Y/N smiled, rolling her eyes as Rodney listened to all the sweet things N’Jadaka had done for his ex-girl and pulling out his phone to type. “Relax, relax. Why does everyone want me to get married all of a sudden”, Y/N asked as she giggled.

“I HAD A DREAM ABOUT FOUR FISH LAST NIGHT!”, yelled out old sweet Miss Jackson from under the hairdryer; the group laughed as Y/N shook her head. Stacie began to help one of the patrons into a seat under another hair dryer before she grabbed the broom and began to sweep around the beauticians and barbers. “Miss Y/N. Do you wanna marry N’Jadaka?” The shop became quiet except for the music and TV being played in the background. Y/N began to have the thought of N’Jadaka. From her mother mentioning Daka proposing to her, to him becoming suspicious and secretive, to now the shop talking about it, she was starting to think that this could be a sign. Daka was once a stranger who helped her when a creepy man approached her to, now, the love of her life; in that moment she realized that she couldn’t see herself without N’Jadaka Udaku-Stevens. “Yeah, I do.” Everyone looked over at her, including Rodney who looked into the mirror in front of them. Stacie grinned once she stopped sweeping and said “you do, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Well, yeah. I feel like I’m at that point in my life where I want my forever partner and besides, I really can’t imagine myself without him. But I won’t lie, it scares me a little. I can’t describe it.” Miss Sawyer sat in the chair beside her getting her hot oil treatment set in as she smiled to herself. “I was in the same boat. You know young lady, back in my day, my daddy had owned a club with some white man I grew up with and I had to marry his god awful son.” Y/N looked over at her with concern in her eyes and said “Miss Sawyer, you did? You never told me that.” “Yeah, sure I did. I wasn’t happy, baby doll. I cried so many days and nights thinking of how I could be married off to a man, let alone a white one who truly did not love me.” The shop nodded, taking in her words before she spoke again. “Then I caught him with another woman on his lap, literally a week after he had proposed to me. What even made it worse is that I was getting sexually harassed at where all this happened”; a mixture of gasps, shock and disgust. “But all of a sudden, the bartender who worked for my poppa and his partner stepped in and when I tell you, the way I knew he would protect me from even a bear had me hot and unbothered”; the group including Y/N laughed. “But I tell you something. I’m not tryna talk ya ear off, baby doll, or none of y’all as a matter of fact. But I just wanna let you know that I went through the same thing you did, honey. I was scared to fall in love with my husband now but he convinced me with his actions that he was meant to be my life partner. The way he got rid of that man. Protecting me. Loving me. And if I could go back in time and do it all over again, I would.” Y/N stood there still working on Rodney’s head on autopilot and deep in her thoughts. She thought about Miss Sawyers’ words but she wasn’t the only one; Rodney sat looking at his ex through the mirror with a softened look. He took a deep breath and began typing against his phone, hoping his partner in crime got the message before it was too late. ~

Across town, Kesha sat in her car, houses down looking through her rearview mirror waiting for the target to arrive at the house. Her phone began vibrating in the cup holder before she picked it up and read the message, scoffing at the words, replying and threw the phone back in her purse. That’s when she saw the man, pulling into the driveway and parking to relax before planning the date night. He hopped out and made his way to the passenger side, grabbing a huge bouquet of white roses and his briefcase; he opened the door, unlocking with his key and stepping in. “Alright, babe closes the shop at like 8 today so I got like a few hours to spare and set up”, N’Jadaka said, as he placed the flowers on the end table by the front door. He kicked his dress shoes off, held them in his hands and made his way to the room to change and grab the spare clothes he always had at Y/N’s place. Once he was done with his shower, took a nap and relaxed, he realized that it was now four pm; he had to start getting ready for Y/N.

Back at the shop, Y/N had finished with Rodney’s hair. “Alright, all done. You need to use this sample everyday until it’s all gone, once in the morning when you wake up and once right before bed”. She took off his cape and was about to head to her office to decompress but felt something grab her wrist softly. Y/N looked at him and could tell he wanted to say something but instead took a deep breath and placed something in her hand before saying “thank you. Take care of ya self, shawty.” With that, he walked out to his car and drove out the lot. When she looked in her hand, she noticed that he had placed five hundred dollars including tip money; she went ahead to her office to place the money away in her safe.

Back at the house, N’Jadaka tipped and thanked the delivery man and began to place the white wine in the fridge. “Aight, Sweets got the delivery, the restaurant got the plan and everything is set. I got my baby’s favorites and everything. Bast, please let this go smoothly.” N’Jadaka began to set things up by using some rose petals he bought from the florist earlier. He scattered them from the front door, around the dinner table and leading to the bedroom around her bed. He even began to pack all her things into new luggage cases he got back home but not before holding up the cream colored dress he planned for her to wear for the dinner night. Silk with a lace pattern and slits on both thighs of the gown. He began to play their song, setting the mood for the perfect night and humming to the lyrics. N’Jadaka knew her heart would absolutely melt when she saw everything set up the way it was. He ran into the kitchen to put ice into a metal bowl to place the white wine and placed it on the table, right in the middle. He had to make sure she loved it so she could say yes to the trip and yes to the ring. As he placed the luggage into her closet for even more of a surprise, he began to hear the door open and shut along with the sound of heels clicking. At first, he thought it was his woman but that’s when he realized Y/N didn’t wear heels so it had to be Leslie. “What’s good, Leslie? Y/N is at the shop-.” His statement was cut short when he noticed that it wasn’t his friend at all. It was Kesha dressed in all cheetah print lingerie and matching heels under her robe. “Heyyy, Daka.” ~

“Hey, y’all”, cheered Leslie peeking half her body into the door; everyone greeted her as she walked in heading to Y/N who was in her seat. “Hey, best friend.” Y/N said her hello, hugged her and they made their way into her office. Leslie sat in front of her best friend’s table trying to get a good look at her left hand but saw no ring; she kissed her teeth so loudly at the sight that it made Y/N turn around. “Girl, you good?” Leslie had to think of something and fast. “Oh girl, nothing, just my damn job. I’m finna quit that muthafucka.”“Please, whore. You say that every fuckin’ time you work” Y/N said with a giggle. Leslie made a mocking face, making fun of her friend before saying “anyways, whore. Did you bring my bag”; that’s when she remembered it was on her kitchen counter. “Damn, I knew I forgot something. We can head to the house right now and grab it.”

“Girl, it can wait”, Leslie laughed but Y/N was already up with her bag. “No, no. Girl, we can head out and grab it now. I gotta tell you who the fuck my last client was”; they hopped in Leslie’s car and made their way back to the house. “So, girl tell me who my last client was”, Y/N asked Leslie as her friend kept her eyes on the road. “You better not say Kesha. Or I swea fuh GAWD.”“Rodney”; this made Leslie swerved resulting in the honks around them before she drove straight again. “RODNEY’S PUNK ASS”, Leslie said, digustingly and annoyed. “Yep, his ass used a fake name.”“He ain’t try nothing, did he? I needed a good ass reason to use my new gun.”“Good God, Leslie. No”; the light changed to green. “So, what happened?” Y/N chuckled to herself and said “you remember that bitch we fucked up at the club?” Leslie snickered out loud and said “what he got her pregnant?” “Nope, they broke up.”

“What the fuck that gotta do with you, girl?” Y/N side eyed her before saying “the nigga is balding.”

“Chile, I been knew that. His daddy bald headed, his momma baldheaded, HELL his old ass grandma bald headed”. Y/N laughed before she said “but our girl was at the shop though.” “Miss Sawyer?!” “Mhm, sure was. She was of course preaching about love and what not.” “She always preaching, best but you gotta think, Mama Sawyer seen and dealt with some shit. Remember I was scared to have baby boy? Miss Sawyer told me I would be just fine and she would pray for us all and look what happened? He running around from diaper changes and shit.” The girls laughed until Y/N said “she mentioned marriage. Have you notice JD acting weird?” Leslie looked over at Y/N then back to the road “what you mean?”

“Like, he might propose.” Leslie deep down wanted to smile and scream YES but she didn’t want to ruin in surprise whatever they may be. “Hm, I ain’t sure. Not gonna lie. I only be around him when you around, boo.”“So, he hasn’t said anythin’ to y’all?”“Nope, nothing boo”; they soon made their way around the corner of her neighborhood and before she began to say “I’m not sure. There are just signs lik-” but stopped when she saw N’Jadaka’s car in the driveway. “I ain’t know babe was here. He texts me when he usually here.” Leslie only smiled when her friend wasn’t paying her any mind. She could only thing “EEEEEKKKKK, I get to see my homegirl getting proposed to.” Y/N stepped out, leaving her purse in the backseat, and placing feet on the sidewalk while Leslie followed behind quickly, eager; that’s when Leslie noticed something down the street. A familiar car, lashes on the headlights, bedazzled license plate and it looked like if the dashboard was covered in some type of polka dot. No. Nah. It was cheetah print… When the ladies approached closer, they could hear music playing from the home. “His playing our song.” Leslie looked at her friend who slowly smiled before using her keys to unlock the door. They spotted the rose petals around but also seen a white wine bottle open on the glass table, one with maroon lipstick smeared on it. Y/N went over to the table to get a closer look but Leslie could hear something from the bedroom.

“Y/N”, Leslie said, looking at the bedroom door and feeling her body heat up. Y/N walked behind her as she could hear the voices over each other. Leslie could hear her friend breathing heavily, showing she was trying to stay calm but Leslie knew her friend way too well; Y/N was about to put her hands on someone and Leslie would help her do so. As soon as she opened the door, N’Jadaka was on the other side, holding a half-naked Kesha by her arm, and said “Now, get the fuck out before”...

N’Jadaka and Y/N met eye to eye as he finished. “Baby is here.”

WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPEN?! Guess y'all will have to find out NEXT WEEK!!!!!! CUE THE EVIL LAUGHSSSS

-SWEET BABIES-

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@youreadthatright

@babygotl01292003

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

@madamslayyy

@yoyolovesbucky

@theogbadbitch

@wakanda-inspired

@bitchacho25

@toniilaney

@wakandascrystal

@girlsneedlovingfanfics

@raysunshine78

@melodyofmbaku

@hearteyes-for-killmonger

@silenceisplatinum

@thickemadame

@shookmcgookqueen

@heykillmongerluhme

@fonville-designs

@cutewylie

@allhailqueennel

@10bsatatime

@nickidub718

@lildashofmelanin

@allhailqueennel

@amirra88

@hakunalive4eva

@ghostfacekill-monger

@thickemadame

@ladymac82

~ @muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife @youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger

#artisticestheticreads #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik stevens #bp fandom #erik killmonger x oc #erik stevens x reader #bp fanfic #n'jadaka #n'jadaka udaku #summertime magic fic

28 notes · View notes

nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 months ago

Text

Triple D Chapter Titles:

Chapter One: F.N.F

Chapter Two: Find Out

Chapter Three: Spin

Chapter Four: Big Ol Freak

Chapter Five: Sex Talk

Chapter Six: Please Don’t Fall In Love With Her

Chapter Seven: Fall For Your Type

Chapter Eight: OTW

Chapter Nine: Same Boy

Chapter Ten: Double Dose of DICK (Triple D)

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #new fanfic #killmonger imagine #without remorse #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #erik killmonger

68 notes · View notes

starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Unbreakable Part 1 (Erik Killmonger x OC)

A/N: here is the summary for our new story! Enjoyyyyyy!

Warnings: This is an AU with bits of the movie and the comics mixed together

“Fuck! J-Just like that.” Naja screwed her face up in one that gave the impression of a woman lost in the throes of pleasure, internally rolling her eyes at the haphazard thrusts of the man on top of her.

In fact, she was merely counting down the minutes until he came and would leave. She supposed the time was good to clear her mind and reminisce.

There was that guy from London, her brain immediately recalled.

He was her favorite one-night stand to think about when she needed an extra boost to get off. Now, that man was gorgeous and he fucked like a God. She actually felt a tinge of guilt when, after he made her cum for hours, she returned the favor by torturing him for hours… and not in a pleasurable way. To his credit, he lasted a long time, which earned her respect.

I hope he is doing ok, she thought to herself. Well, she knew he wasn’t. But had he just given up his supplier of stolen vibranium faster, he’d likely be doing better.

“You like that??” He demanded as he fucked into her like a jack rabbit. No finesse, no skill, no care. He did not even ensure her needs were met.

That’s ok, she decided. If his fucking was any indication of his skills in other activities, he was actually doing her and her pussy a favor.

“Yes, I love it!” She called out, cringing at her own voice. She faked her orgasm to finish the ordeal faster.

Anytime now, Bast, she called out to the god above. This was getting irksome.

It seemed Bast heard her calls and blessed her, the man finally cumming and filling her. She silently thanked Wakanda for the painless, side effect free birth control that would last her five years.

He rolled off of her, his chest heaving slightly while Naja was wholly unruffled aside from a thin layer of sweat.

“That was… something,” she offered with a fake smile, a content and pompous smile he did not deserve forming on his lips.

The male ego, she shook her head as she slid out of bed and threw a robe on. After returning from the bathroom, she was surprised to find him still lounging in her bed. Most of her night time companions knew the rules… no one stayed the night. But this one, Kofi…

No, this is Kwame, she thought to herself.

No… Kwame actually knows how to fuck you. Or at least, attempts to make you cum even if he doesn’t succeed. Kwame gets an A for effort. Is there a grade lower than F we can give this one? Maybe it’s Amari? She tilted her head as she studied him. Hell, she did not know who he was but she did know one thing: he clearly did not know when to get the fuck out.

“Ok well, this was fun but I should be heading to bed,” her tone was polite but left little room for negotiation. She gathered his clothes with lightning speed and tossed them onto his lap.

He pushed himself up onto her forearms. “Wait, you serious?”

She stared at him, a dead panned expression painted on her face. “Yea. I sleep alone. I had fun though,” she lied with ease and a smile.

“Oh… ok.” He started gathering his clothes, Naja wholly unmoved by the hurt glimmering in his eyes. “When will I see you again?”

“I’m at the bar… working every night,” she handed him his shoes to speed the process along. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could pull out her vibrator and actually service the ache between her legs.

“So we can do this again sometime?” He asked as she shooed him toward the door.

“Definitely, definitely. I’ll call you. Get home safe.” She pushed him out of her front door, locking and dead bolting it behind her.

She rolled her eyes before returning up the stairs to her bedroom. She did not know why she even bothered. Every time she brought a man home after her shift, she knew they would likely not be able to please her. But she allowed them into her bed anyway. Fucking, even if it was lackluster, filled some void.

She settled into bed, about to pull out her trusted and faithful bullet when her phone rang. She groaned, glancing at her phone.

Dayo. Her boss.

“It is offensive to call someone this late, Dayo.” She chastised as she settled into bed.

“I gave you an hour. I assume your suitor has returned home?”

“He just left. What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “Another child went missing in the village tonight.”

Her heart sank. “That’s the 15th child in the last three months. Soldiers?”

At his silence, she let out a frustrated groan. “The family?”

“Devastated but not talking. They won’t admit it was the King’s men, which means they were threatened. The father tried to fight back and was killed. The mother had to be taken to the hospital, she was distraught and collapsed.”

“FUCK!” She paced up and down her bedroom, the wood panels of her floor creaking softly.

“I just wish we knew why he was targeting this village specifically. I reached out to the network across the rest of the city and the country and nothing like this is happening elsewhere.”

She shrugged. “This is the poorest village in the Capitol. It’s like child soldiers across the continent and trafficking across the world. You steal people from those who do not have the resources and means to fight for their return. The King maintains his throne and his games with intimidation and violence. We will find them, Dayo, and we will liberate our people. I promise. I will talk to you tomorrow. Let me know if the family needs anything, I can try to go to the markets tomorrow night during my shift.”

“Everyone needs everything, Malika. Thank you for doing what you can. For the liberation of Niganda.”

“For the liberation of Niganda. Good night, Dayo.”

She sighed, the ache between her legs vanishing completely. She grabbed her kimoyo beads and went over to the plain, nondescript wall across from her bed. She pressed the beads to a circular groove in the wood, both lighting up a mysterious shade of light blue. She glanced over her shoulder, as if someone were watching her, as the wall parted to reveal a walk-in closet.

However, this closet was filled with more than just clothes. It was a small arsenal. Spears, blades of all shapes and varieties, guns of equal diversity, even a bow and arrow, which she never got to use but she liked the look of it. And clothes. All black, fashioned to hide a many assortment of weapons in the oddest places, laced with vibranium to protect her body. She missed donning those clothes. And while those days might be over, the cache of weapons she maintained proved that some habits never died.

She pulled a duffle bag out of the back of the closet, the bag filled with passports, Nigandan currency, and Wakandan dollars. She pulled out a notebook she kept stashed under everything else. She flipped through it, each page filled with notes from her years in Niganda. The last 20 pages or so were each numbered with the name and # of a child. Her notes, witness accounts, leads. All of it jotted down on those pages, a complex map that helped her get no where closer to find in those children.

She did not know #15’s name yet but when she learned it, their name would join their number on the page. She wrote down the bit of information Dayo shared, figuring she could fill it out more tomorrow after she spoke with him in person.

All these children, all these souls lost. And no one seemed concerned or like they cared, no one willing to risk their lives to find them and save them. No one except those in the Nigandan Liberation Front. Dayo was their leader and he was committed as anyone to overthrow the tyrant that ruled over this country.

Her writing was interrupted by a ping from her kimoyo beads.

“Damn, can no one leave me the fuck alone?” She wondered aloud. However, she knew if someone was calling this line, it was important. No one from Wakanda ever bothered her unless there was news to share.

She knew it would be an encrypted and recorded message, it was too risky to ever call her and expect her to answer. She checked her beads once a week at different times and intervals, usually there was nothing there.

Shuri’s upper half materialized from the beads. Her voice was professional and calm, very unlike her.

“Malika, please return home. The Royal Talon will be waiting for you on the other side of the Nigandan-Cannan border at the following coordinates at 2 a.m. in seven days. Your presence has been requested in Wakanda for two months by order of the King. Please confirm that you received this message.”

“Anddddd this is why I never check this fuckin’ thing,” she mumbled, frustration coursing through her.

Two months??? The power of the throne had clearly gone to T’Challa’s head. And only giving her one week to prepare to leave? And how many children, she glanced at the photos in her book of each one, would go missing in that time? How many families would be torn apart while she stayed in the safe bosom of Wakanda?

She hated herself for knowing she had to go, hated him for forcing her hand. He knew how she felt about that place, knew why she had chosen the path and life she had chosen. Why she had only stepped foot in her borders twice in the last seven years. But an order from the King was an order from the King, she took liberties but even she could not refuse him.

As she laid in bed, frustrated, her mind already churned on what lie she could tell everyone to explain a two-month absence. She had already laid the groundwork for relatives in South Africa. Perhaps she could use that.

“Ugh!” She now only had a week to get everything in order. “Every King on this bast-forsaken continent is a tyrant,” she mumbled to herself before flopping to her side to try to sleep.

***

When Naja stepped off the Talon, she was thankful to only find General Okoye waiting for her, her stoic face a sight for sore eyes. She was thankful the rest of the family remembered she hated the excessive fanfare of returning home and immediately being pestered by a million people. It had been a long time since she saw many of them so she figured a certain King would ignore that directive. But she was thankful to have a moment to ease into seeing everyone. It was already an adjustment, as it always was to be back on Wakandan soil in the first place. It still felt new, every time, even though this was technically her home. It did not feel like home to her, not anymore.

“General,” her lips tugged into the smallest of smiles as she saluted her old friend. It was the first genuine smile she could remember giving someone in months. There was little happening in Niganda worth smiling about anyway and when she did, it was usually fake.

“Naja.” Once Okoye returned her salute, she reached out and squeezed Naja’s hand, Naja returning it gently, before their faces returned to their usual stoic and neutral expressions. “I trust your journey was well.”

“It was. Though it was difficult to spin my absence on such short notice. Do you know why the King saw it to order me home?”

“No.”

Her answer was simple, and Naja knew, untrue. Okoye was one of two people in this palace privy to all of the King’s decisions and thoughts. But she also knew Okoye would not give her a single inch. It was worth a shot though, she reasoned. But it also let her know the reason was not straightforward, which meant her nap in her quarters would have to wait.

“Of course. May you take me to his office if he is not too busy? I know the way to my room from there.”

Okoye did not nod or answer her. She merely changed the direction of their walk through the palace toward T’Challa’s office. Naja tried not to get too wrapped up in the bustling movement and sounds of the palace. The last time she was here, it felt more like a ghost town than anything else, lifeless and dreary. Wakanda had weathered the Blip better than most countries but it still struggled and during those five years, the palace wore the scars of its lost King and Princess and half its population. But with their return, life and joy returned to the palace and all of Wakanda. She was happy for it. They all deserved it, to be whole again.

She did not let the facade she had on fall until Okoye opened the door to T’Challa’s office, her brother in law sitting behind his desk reading. He glanced up, a wide smile gracing his tired but ever youthful features, as his eyes landed on Naja. He immediately stood up, joy rippling off of him like waves. One thing she always appreciated about T’Challa was, even when he and Nakia were not together, he treated her like a younger sister. A colder one than the one he actually had but a sister nonetheless.

“Thank you, General. Naja, welcome home.”

“My king,” she saluted him. She waited for the firm click of the door closing behind Okoye before she offered him a smirk. “My king summons, I answer.”

“No need for the formalities, sister. And I know you despise hugs. But it has been 7 years, humor me?” He rounded the desk to stand before her.

“I was told the Blip only felt like minutes to those of you who were gone. So technically, for you, it has only been two years. But as my king, I suppose you make the rules. You get seven seconds.” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. “One for each year.”

She allowed herself to be gathered up in his arms, the man squeezing tight. She forced herself not to fall into it, though she wanted to. The warm embrace of family, she had missed it. But instead, she merely cleared her throat, letting him know the timer on their emotional reunion had indeed run out.

To his credit, he immediately released her, his hands holding onto her forearms as he took a step back to examine her. She chuckled and rolled her eyes as he attempted to inspect her form for any injuries or drastic changes that would worry his Queen. Seven years might have passed since she last laid eyes on T’Challa at his coronation but time had done little to change either of them.

“You look well. Thin,” he remarked. “But well. How are you?”

“Glory to Bast, I am in good health,” she offered lazily as she sat in the seat opposite of his desk. She tried not to look at the pictures that littered the office, keeping her eyes trained on him, knowing she would find more than one that featured him. She did not need or want to see him ever again. “Food in the Capitol has been sparse since the return of everyone from the Blip.”

“Do you need more money? I know the alias and job you chose does not offer much.”

She shook her head. In addition to the money she made at the bar she worked at, all War Dogs received a salary discreetly added into their accounts disguised as local side jobs and businesses. She had more than enough money.

“No, no, no. Thanks to you, I am the world’s richest bartender. Just the monarchy hoarding resources, there is more than enough to go around for the wealthy. And the black markets continue to thrive there under the King’s nose but what I usually get from there, I give to those who need it more,” she shrugged. “I’m good. I’ve survived on less.”

“Anything of note on those black markets?”

She tilted her head before shaking it, T’Challa’s shoulders sagging a bit. “Aside from delicious meats and vegetables the royals have now deemed delicacies? No.”

“Well, make sure to eat two plates at dinner. Or else your sister will not rest tonight.”

She nodded. “Two plates? That feels gluttonous. Though I suppose I need to reacclimate to this… abundance,” her eyes flickered to the obvious signs of wealth and prestige littering his office. A pang of guilt hit her for even being able to indulge in it. “So I’m sure Nakia will make it her mission to fatten me up before I return home. So are you going to tell me why you’ve grounded me for two months? I hope it’s a good reason. Do you know how hard it will be to explain a two-month disappearance?”

T’Challa’s deep chuckle filled the office as he sat back in his chair. “Only you would consider a vacation and a bit of time off a punishment.”

She scoffed. “It is hardly a vacation when it comes as a direct order from my King himself, one he knows very well I would never refuse.”

“You could refuse.” His eyes twinkled with humor as he handed her a glass of Wakandan rum, the one thing he knew she missed from home.

“And face the wrath of the Black Panther?” She shook her head, throwing the entire glass back in one gulp before sighing contently. She slid the glass across the desk, gesturing toward the decanter, T’Challa refilling it for her. “The people outside these walls may call me ongenaloyiko* (the fearless one) but I am still smart enough to fear the greatest warrior in all Wakanda. But as your elder,” she started to say with a wink that she knew would agitate him.

“You may have surpassed me in years thanks to the Blip, dear Naja, but you are still my younger sister always,” he reminded her.

“Then tell me why you brought me back. Niganda is in a precarious place right now… things are… brewing. This is a long time to be gone.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The other War Dogs in the region report no issues. Remember, Naja…”

She sighed. “I know, I know. No interfering and we only care about things that threaten the interests of Wakanda. I’m being a good leashed watch dog now, I promise.” She knew she was not off to a good start, lying to him so soon. But she hated the new role expected of them. To witness the suffering of the world but do nothing to help. The other War Dogs in Niganda may be fine with such an existence but one thing she had in common with her sister, Naja would always do whatever she could, as long as life pumped in her veins.

“Good.” She was surprised he believed her. “I brought you back for many reasons. The first and most important being that your sister is pregnant,” Naja’s eyes widened. “And due any day now and she has spoken of what a great support you were during the birth of Prince T’Challa while I was…”

“Fake dead,” she supplied. She knew the Blip was not a laughing matter. It was traumatic for those gone and those who were forced to stay and carry on. But they had all survived, she saw little point in dwelling on it.

“Yes. And I knew she would be happy to have you here for the birth and a bit of time afterward as well. Second, you have a nephew that is growing day after day and barely knows you. I did not know my uncle before he died. You can understand that I would prefer for history not to repeat itself.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on stealing vibranium and selling it to the highest bidder while I’m here,” she mumbled as her thumb traced patterns in the condensation of her glass, trying to stay aloof at the mention of his father.

“I’m serious, Naja. The War Dog program is important but N’Jobu taught me that it is not more important than family and connection. And third, I am hoping that some time back here will give you some perspective and perhaps… change your position on certain matters.”

She scoffed, standing up to pace his office. She was dressed simply, far too simply to address the King some would argue. But there were perks to her position and her reputation, no one would correct her. Her standard soft black pants and tank top provided comfort and agility and ensured she never stood out. Tucked into her waist band was a gun, she had forgotten to remove it on the plane. Though she felt safer with it, even here, on her person. She had left her other weapons at home, her calf felt uncomfortably bare without her blade attached to it.

“And there it is. So just so I understand the rules of engagement. Are you speaking to me now as my King or as my brother?”

“I speak to you as your brother, Naja, always.”

“Except when you ordered me home,” she muttered as she leaned against the window sill, her eyes starting into the heart of the capital city. A small part of her ached. She’d never admit it aloud but she did miss it sometimes. She had tried for so long to find something like it but nothing compared to Wakanda. She ignored that, pushing it into the depths where she stored every other feeling she did not want to deal with.

“You may reject the displays of our love and affection but it will stop none of us from giving it or caring for you.”

“I am happy with how things are now, T’Challa. I have no interest in changing my position on certain matters.”

“We are entering peace talks with Niganda, and while you do not trust them -”

“I do not trust them because they are untrustworthy,” she cut him off sharply. “I’m the best War Dog you have there. You’d do well to heed my warnings where the Nigandans are concerned.”

“If these negotiations go well, there is an opportunity for you to consider a position that is here in Wakanda. You are the best War Dog I have in any country on this planet, Naja. But it’s been 15 years. We have other War Dogs stationed in Niganda now, thanks to you, who can ensure the peace treaty is adhered to. You can come home.”

“Those other War Dogs don’t know what they are doing. And… This is not my home, T’Challa,” she muttered.

“You can spend as much time as you want away from our borders and pretend to be Malika, a lowly Nigandan bartender all you want. But you will always be Wakandan, Wakanda will always be home.”

“And the best way for me to honor Wakanda is by doing what I have always done: serve her. Protect her interests. In Niganda.”

She and T’Challa stared at each other for a few moments. While most would have withered under the intense gaze of their king, Naja did no such thing. It was T’Challa who finally broke their standoff, bowing his head as if to signal his surrender.

“For your sister’s sake, I ask that you merely consider it. She misses you terribly. And not just your physical absence. She misses who you were.”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled as she walked back over to his desk. Her eyes fell on a picture of T’Challa, Nakia, and their son. She picked up the frame, her fingers grazing along the patterns surrounding their smiling faces.

“Who I was is of little consequence now, T’Challa. This is who I am. It’s been 15 years and my sister would do well to accept this version of me. Wakanda and I are better for it anyway. Does she know I’m here?”

“No, it is a surprise for dinner tonight.”

She sucked her teeth before nodding. “Fine. I will serve out my two month sentence - without complaint - and I will not tell her of your clever but well-intentioned manipulation to force me here. But I say this with all the love and reverence for you as my brother and my King, when these two months are up, I will return to Niganda with or without your approval. Are we clear?”

Few could talk to T’Challa as she did or had the privilege to make demands. But when Naja spoke, T’Challa listened. “Crystal clear. It is good to have you home, sister. We missed your bubbly personality and disposition around here.”

“It is good to see you too, T’Challa. Congrats on the new baby. Next time you want to send me encrypted messages, send me good news like that. I’m going to lay down until dinner.”

“Naja!”

She stopped and turned around to face him once more.

“I recognize, accept, and love who you are now. But I would push back on one point.” At her raised eyebrow, he continued, “Wakanda is served well by every version of you because you love her and she loves you back. This version of you is extraordinary. But better implies there was something wrong with the equally extraordinary version of you from before. And there wasn’t.”

Something pricked the back of her eyes as she turned away from him, a sting she despised about as much as physical affection.

“This is why I hate coming back,” she huffed. “Tell anyone my eyes so much as misted and I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

He chuckled. “Bast’s fiercest warrior and daughter never cries. Even if my eyes witnessed such a feat, I would not know the words to share it with a soul.”

She smiled before exiting his office, immediately swallowing the emotion she felt. She hated how out of sorts she felt being back here. Seeing T’Challa in the flesh again after seven long years, the emotions of being back here in this home and in this city, finding out her sister was pregnant, the emotional exhaustion of switching from her alias back to Naja… this was why she preferred to be alone when she first got home. Had not been on Wakandan soil for an hour and she had already been through a rollercoaster of emotions.

Naja moved through the halls silently and swiftly, moving like a panther herself to ensure she did not run into her sister. Though she was not happy about being forced to return, she was excited to see her sister and her nephew. Though Nakia still treated her like a fragile dove, her sister loved her beyond comparison and reason.

When she finally found her way to her room, she stripped down and curled into bed immediately. A content sigh slipped from her lips as she settled into the comfort of the soft mattress and linens. The room was obscene, triple the size of her home in Niganda. It was home to her and served her needs but it left much to be desired compared to what she left behind.

Don’t get used to it, she thought to herself as she already started to drift off to sleep. Two months and then we’re out of here.

***

Naja yawned deeply as she rushed to dinner, realizing she was several minutes late. She hated that T’Challa was right, per usual.

A break from life as a spy was not so bad. She did not know how to relax and rest but her body seemed determined to ensure she did it. She slept like a rock, a call from T’Challa 10 minutes past dinnertime was the only thing to jolt her from her sleep.

She paused outside the family dining room, her heart warming as she heard her nephew spitting rapid fire questions at his parents about training. Her sister’s voice filled the room.

“Will you teach your sister how to train when she’s old enough?” She heard Nakia ask.

TJ’s small voice responded. “Would that be safe for her? I don’t want her to get hurt like I do.”

“As safe as it is for any Wakandan,” Naja offered with a teasing smile as she rounded the corner.

“Auntie Naja!!” TJ sprung from his seat with the strength of a cannon and ran into her outstretched arms. “I missed you!”

“My prince!! You are getting taller and taller every day!” She tickled his sides, his giggles filling the dining room and everyone’s hearts with warmth. “And when you’re training that little one in a few years, you should remember what my baba always told us. Our battle scars are our strength, our power, and…”

“A reminder from Bast that we lived another day to serve Wakanda,” TJ finished, reciting the words Nakia and Naja’s father always said.

She cradled him against her chest for a moment once more before letting him go, his small hand gripping around hers to drag her farther into the room.

“Now why doesn’t he have a time limit on your affection?” T’Challa’s voice was filled with fake indignation.

She merely shrugged as TJ demanded she take the open seat next to him.

“I simply like him better than you.”

However, before she sat, she rounded the table to her sister.

“Sister. No, don’t get up,” she cautioned as Nakia started to move. The hug she bestowed was longer than most would receive but she could tell by the unshed tears in Nakia’s eyes that she needed it. She cradled one hand to Nakia’s cheek before the other rested on her belly. “How are you? And how is my future niece, Wakanda’s next great warrior?”

“We are both well, even better now that you are here. You’re so thin.” She tsked slightly, T’Challa and Naja sharing a knowing glance and chuckle. “You need to catch me up on everything. But first sit. Eat.”

As she returned to her seat, she watched as a silent conversation passed between her King and Queen. Though Nakia’s face appeared happy, there was something brewing beneath the surface. She could sense the anger passing through her to T’Challa, a guilty look plastered on his face. She watched as he busied himself with his own plate to avoid her glare.

She did not know what to make of it as she piled food on her plate, she could not deny she was starving. However, she realized the reason for that silent conversation quickly as two voices grew louder and louder as they moved toward the dining room.

“If you had just listened to me, we wouldn’t have been late! Your elementary knowledge of nanotech is useless. I could’ve finished it in an hour if you hadn’t been there mansplaining,” Shuri ranted as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. She was so frustrated she did not even notice Naja at the table or acknowledge her.

“Aye! I went to MIT, short bit,” a sharp American voice filled the space, Naja’s blood turning to ice water, her head whipping toward the door so fiercely she could have broken her own neck. She felt as if her heart completely stopped as she watched Prince N’Jadaka enter the dining room. “That shit’s hardly element-” his words immediately fell off as his eyes fell on Naja, his entire body paralyzed in mid step.

The pair merely stared at each other, the dining room rapidly filling with tension so severe even the staff ceased moving. And only four people, save the Prince and Naja, knew the source of that tension. Her body did not move an inch, her fork still hovering in the space above her plate as indescribable rage took control of every cell in her body. She could feel it deep in her bones, 15 years worth of pain she had buried warped into a monster. Her nephew’s presence mere inches from her were the only calming presence she could feel, the only thing keeping everything from boiling over.

“Well… this is painfully awkward,” Shuri muttered as she sat down in her seat next to the Queen Mother. “W-Welcome home, Naja.”

She cleared her throat, an even and cold timbre falling on her voice. No longer did Naja, the sister and friend, sit at the table. Naja, the spy, with her iron clad facade sat before them. Cold, unfeeling, ruthless. Unbreakable, she reminded herself. That was the weapon she had fashioned herself into. That was who she was now. And she was better for it.

“Thank you, Princess. I am happy you are back and well. I see much has changed since my last visit. Erik.”

He had started to make his way to his own seat but stilled at the sound of his American name. It was the name he had gone by his entire time in Wakanda when he moved here as a child after his father’s death. Prince Erik, preferably just Erik, he forced everyone to call him. But Naja… she was the one person aside from T’Challa he allowed to call him by his Wakandan name. She knew he had once loved hearing her say it as much as she loved to say it. She knew the dig, however coded it was, hit its mark, a part of her savored in the hurt that crossed his face.

“I prefer N’Jadaka,” he offered as he sat down in the last open seat directly across from her, which only increased her anger.

“Hmm… So you have returned to Wakanda for the birth as well, Erik?” She asked, ignoring his preference. She would never call him N’Jadaka or prince again. She did not care if the whole damn country referred to him as such.

He sucked his teeth. “Nah. I’ve been back for months… I owed T and Wakanda a favor so I’m home for good, helpin’ rebuild after everythin’.”

The entire table seemed to shift as rage wafted off Naja. She cut her eyes from Erik to T’Challa, the rest of the room falling away as she threw him a glare that made him thankful the heart-shaped herb ran through his veins. However, beneath that glare, T’Challa knew it masked hurt and one question only he and Nakia could likely decipher.

How could you?

“I have suddenly lost my appetite. Sister, I will check in on you in the morning. Good night.” Her fork loudly clanked against the dinner china before she rose from the table. She ignored the calls of her sister and T’Challa for her to stay as she turned to leave. She slowed herself just enough to kiss her nephew on the forehead briefly before exiting without a second glance.

He was home… How could T’Challa not tell her? Tell her that she would be living under the same roof as him for months? Did he consider her too fragile for such knowledge? That her feeble, weak mind would collapse or fall apart? Those days were behind her.

She had turned all that hurt and pain into fuel, it drove her and pushed her. And now here he was, and all that hurt she suppressed for 15 years, all of that was back with one look at his face. She hated him, despised him. She did not want to look at him, much less sit across from him at every meal for the next two months.

She could not do it. Fuck the King’s commands. She was returning to Niganda tonight. Even if she had to hitch hike the entire way.

She was so wrapped up in her escape plan that she did not hear the footsteps behind her until she felt a presence directly on her back. Without thought, she pulled out the gun still tucked in her waistband and cocked it, aiming it directly at… T’Challa.

She ignored the bang of the Doras’ spears on the ground as she kept the gun aimed at him. She was thankful it was just him. That was the one thing she did not enjoy about her life as a spy, her instincts were too difficult to turn off now.

“Still ever vigilant, I see?” T’Challa raised his hand to the Dora, silently ordering them to stand down, wholly unperturbed at having a gun pointed at his chest.

“Well, you never know when someone’s gonna betray you,” she spat with venom that made him flinch.

“I understand you’re upset...”

“You understand nothing,” she seethed, taking a step toward him. She lowered the gun, the weapon shaking in her hand. “I understand that you knew I would not agree to return if I knew he was here so instead of telling me of the birth and asking me to return, you forced my hand. I understand that you used your title and my love for my sister as manipulation to force a reconciliation. It. Is. Not. Happening.”

“You cannot avoid him forever. You are both part of this family.”

She paced, agitated and frustrated. “I can and will avoid him forever. Because if I don’t, I will use his body to test out the multitude of ways I know how to kill someone.. I can’t believe you didn’t warn me he was here.”

“I am sorry. I thought it would help but I was wrong.” He sighed before gesturing at the gun. “Will it help?”

She thought about it and nodded.

The black fibers of his suit emerged and covered his whole body. With perfect precision, she shot him over and over again, emptying her clip until his suit was bright purple with the stored kinetic energy of each bullet. The loud bangs reverberated through the halls, her eardrums rattled.

“Better?” He asked when she finally lowered the gun and tucked it back in its hiding spot.

“Yes… and no. You’re still able to talk,” she muttered. Though shooting something did take the edge of her anger off.

“I am sorry for deceiving you. You are right, I knew you would not return if you knew Erik had returned home permanently. But your sister… and I… we need you here. I know what he did, the pain he caused you. And if you do not speak to him ever again, you would be within your right. But I ask very little of you, Naja. And right now, I am asking you to stay here,” Naja was annoyed that he somehow already realized she was going to run back home. “And endure for us. Two months and then you can leave and I will not utter a word to convince you to stay. I promise.”

She nodded. “Fine. But just so you know, any ill conceived notion you had of me returning to this country for good? That is gone now. As long as Erik Stevens calls Wakanda home, I never will.” She turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall, leaving T’Challa alone surrounded by shell casings.

She only paused when she heard him yell back, “I’ll have dinner sent to your room. Please eat or your sister will kill me.”

She scoffed. “That’s not reason enough,” she called back. Though they both knew she would eat whatever was brought to her.

***

Unlike Naja, Erik was able to hide his emotions a tad bit better and hold it together through dinner. However, his emotions did not include rage, except for toward T’Challa. All he had felt at dinner was the hot, uncomfortable spotlight of guilt and shame. What he had done, he’d never forgive himself. And any stupid notion he once had that Naja could forgive him one day was wiped out in a manner of minutes.

“What the fuck, T?” Erik demanded as he stormed into T’Challa’s office, the King nursing a glass of rum as he continued to work.

“Your ex already shot me several times this evening, figuratively and literally. So go easy on me, N’Jadaka.”

“You told me she didn’t ever come back to Wakanda? That she moved on??

T’Challa shrugged. “Those things are not untrue. Naja is a War Dog stationed in Niganda,” he admitted. “You wanted nothing to do with Wakanda once you left and worked for the US Government so I could not reveal War Dog identities to you. And when you came back, I thought it best that she remain out of sight and out of mind.”

Erik’s eyes grew wide. “W-wait, w-wait… a watch and report back War Dog or a Hatut Zeraze-era War Dog?”

There was a distinction, one only a precious few in the country knew. For most, the War Dogs were merely spies, a Wakandan-style CIA force that watched, patiently integrating themselves into their host country’s world to report back critical information to protect Wakanda. However, past kings used a specialized force of them for other purposes, ones the average Wakandan knew nothing of, purposes that actually kept Wakanda safe and protected all these years.

T’Challa sighed and rubbed his eyes. “The latter until my coronation. She was handpicked during training by my father, and worked her way up to leading missions across the continent and beyond.”

Erik scoffed. “Missions… I know what missions mean. Assassinations, torture.”

T’Challa tilted his head. “None that we would ever admit to. She is stationed in Niganda 90% of the time unless my father needed her for another assignment. When I became king, I disbanded that portion of the War Dogs and she has been our lead War Dog in Niganda ever since.”

The stinging heat of anger and fear prickled his brain. The Naja he remembered was soft, not in a bad way either. You wanted to lean into her and soak up her warmth. It was comforting and soothing. However, he knew first hand the things she would have had to do to be part of that specialized force. And he would not wish the damage all that had done to his own soul on anyone else, least of all her.

“’N you didn’t think to tell a nigga she was comin’?”

“I thought 15 years was enough time for you both to move past everything that transpired. Clearly I was wrong.”

“She still hates me?”

T’Challa scoffed. “Is there a word stronger than hate? Because that may be more accurate.” He paused. “Do you still feel guilty?”

Erik merely nodded, his finger fidgeting with his father’s ring, which he had worn around his neck since he was a small boy.

“15 years and one look at her and all that shit just comes right back,” he let out a low whistle. “She looks damn good. Different though. Not just physically. She’s colder than I remembered.”

“You miss her?”

He nodded. “Yea, being back here this year. She’s gone but every fuckin’ place in this damn country reminds me of her. I fucked up.”

“You still love her?”

Erik shrugged. “A lack of love was never the issue. Doesn’t matter if 50 years go by… it’d still be her. Only her. Who knows, maybe I can make this shit right. Can’t be a coincidence that Bast brought us both back?”

“May I be honest with you, cousin?”

“Me saying no ain’t ever stopped you.”

“When Naja first joined the War Dogs, her father made a personal plea to my father and I to reject her application. When I asked him why, he said that though they were crafted by the same hand, his daughters could not be more different. Nakia, he said, was an assassin’s blade. Beautiful, striking, and when wielded with the right hand, deadly. While Naja was no weapon at all. She was a delicate sculpture, something to gaze upon, he said. She could be a weapon, like anything. But one blow would be all you get and the cost would destroy her and she would never be the same again.”

“This fuckin’ Wakandan proverb shit,” Erik mumbled. “Like what the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means… You broke her, N’Jadaka. And that isn’t a judgment or condemnation,” he added at the pain that flashed across his face. “I understood then and now what ailed you when you did what you did. But you broke her. And to cope with that pain, like you, she picked up all those broken pieces and fashioned herself into a weapon that is more deadly than even Nakia ever was. Someone who is unbreakable. She is the most lethal weapon I’ve ever seen with stunning effectiveness and precision. She is pragmatic, she is cold, she is cunning, and merciless. And for her, love for anything other than this country and its throne is weakness. She is not the Naja you left here 15 years ago. She may look like the woman you love but she is an entirely different person, N’Jadaka. Be wise and remember that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that as much as I would love to see the two of you reconcile, this Naja will sooner kill you before she will let you close enough to break her ever again. Goodnight, cousin.” T’Challa grabbed his glass and stood up, walking to the door, leaving Erik to contemplate the consequences of his actions.

Tag List: @miyuhpapayuh @pipsqueak-98 @injerafiend @themakingsofdion

A/N: Ok I've never written Erik before so I'm really excited. I also feel like this OC is very unlike my others so I'm excited about.

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #erik kilmonger x reader #erik killmonger angst #erik killmonger #Erik Stevens x reader #michael b jordan fanfic

202 notes · View notes

theereina · 3 months ago

Text

*very Erik (Killmonger) coded...🤭

#erik stevens #erik killmonger #killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #lmao #instagram

19 notes · View notes

henneseyhoe · 2 years ago

Text

2| KILLA HOTLINE

(Pls forgive me if the smut part is bad, I’ve never written phone sex lmao)

✮✮✮✮

“Killa hotline, how may I satisfy your needs tonight, love?” a silky smooth voice erupted from the other side, soothing R&B music playing lowly in the background. I couldn’t help but to pause, my words immediately got caught in my throat, leaving me unable to speak. ‘Why did I do this again..?’ I wondered, my lips sewing themselves together. I heard a deep chuckle after a few seconds, the man finding humor in the situation. “Cat got your tongue? You must be new”

He speaks again, making me let out a quiet moan involuntarily, my thighs clenching together. “Y-yes” I finally spoke, my response coming out more timid than I wanted it to. “Yes…what?” He was silent after, waiting on my response. I looked around my room I’m confused, trying to think about what he was pushing me to say. “Yes?” I asked, still confused.

I hear him move around, sounding as if he was typing on something “…we’ll work on that response later. What’s your name, shy girl?” He asks, and I swallow down pressure of nervousness that had bombarded my throat. “Uh—..Kate..lyn. My name is katelyn” I stammered and mentally cursed myself out for sounding like this.

‘Jesus, Y/N. this man isn’t even in your face and you stuttering like you cold’

The man laughed, not believing a word, rightfully so. “Be serious. What’s your name? I promise it’ll sound better rolling off my tongue than katelyn” he says, a small smile growing on my face. I rolled my eyes, trying to loosen up a little. “Sorry, I don’t know why I lied” I chuckled.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to…meet you?” I question my greeting, wondering if that was even the proper way of saying that. “Now that’s more believable. You have a beautiful name, Y/N. I know it’s just as pretty as that face” he said, the sound of my name doing exactly what he said, rolling perfectly off his tongue.

I trapped my bottom lip in between my teeth, hiding my smile as if he could see me gushing. The sound of my name coming from him made my stomach turn. “Thank you…what’s yours?” I ask, starting to play with the strings to my sweatpants. “..I’m Erik, but you can call me anything that slips out after “yes” and a moan. It’s nice getting your call tonight”

‘he was in one of the pictures in the email. damn, he was fine’

I pulled the phone from my ear and squealed, reaching up and grabbing a pillow to muffle myself. I wondered what had gotten into me, I wasn’t usually this shy or giddy when it came to men anymore. Hell, I barely paid them mind in real life, but maybe it’s cause it’s over the phone. I threw the pillow back to its place and put my phone back to my ear “you okay?” He asked and I hum a ‘yes’.

“Yup. So…Erik, or Killmonger, should I say?this your hotline alone?” I ask, gaining a bit of confidence. He chuckles. “Nope. It’s three others, you lucky you got me though” I raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?” I asked, settling back into a comfortable position. “Cause, I’ll have your legs shaking without even being there” I gasp quietly, now crossing my legs to stop the newfound pulsing. “Oh— that’s…interesting.” I respond, and he hums back.

“So, how’d you find my number and stage name?” He queries and I try to think of a less unserious story, but decided to just tell the truth. “My friends. They signed me up for the email thing and…I guess I stumbled upon the number and your picture with your name under it” explaining, I shook my head, still not believing how my girls would go against me like that by giving these people my email.

“Well, did you like what you saw?”

“Huh?”

“My picture, doll. Did you like it?” I smile at the nickname and kick my feet in the air girlishly, holding in a giggle. “Yes. I liked it. I see why they call you Killmonger” I attempted to flirt, swirling the draw string of my pants around my finger. “that ain’t why they call me that”

My eyebrows raise, now wondering how I was gonna piggyback off of that to maintain the flirting lines I had already made up in my head to say. “Then why?” I could practically hear a smile growing on his lips before he spoke “cause I kills the pussy” he responds and I immediately go silent, muting my phone.

Switching myself to kneel on the king sized bed, I put my head face down in the covers and squeal once again, nothing but tingling surrounding my clit. ‘Girl, get it together’ the voice in the back of my head spoke and I sighed, lifting my head and shaking it before unmuting the phone.

“…boy bye. Can’t be that good” I simply said, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. “You wanna test it out?” He said suddenly, cutting any other sentence I had off. I struggled to find a response “I-…what?…” he continues “I’m serious. What do you think this hotline is for, ma? I’m here to make you cum as many times as you want. Just say the word”

I was astonished, yet confused with what I was supposed to say. Was I really about to have phone sex with a nigga I didn’t know from a can of paint like this was the 90s? Yes. Yes I was.

“Okay…yes” I spoke, rolling onto my back.

✮✮✮✮

“That feel good, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yessss” I mewled, rocking myself onto my fingers. kneeling onto my bed with my face in my pillows and my hands shoved into my panties, I kept a bullet vibrator placed on my clit turned onto a low setting as my fingers went a pace that was a bit faster. my phone laid next to my head on speaker, Erik encouraging me to keep fucking myself. “Slow it down a little. I don’t need you cumming so soon” he says, his voice being deeper than when we started to converse.

I whined and slowed down my fingers movements, wishing I could do what I really wanted and jump through this damn phone.

“Mhmm, I know, baby. Daddy know how that pussy just beggin’ to cum, right?” He asked softly, making me clench around my fingers. Moaning into the phone, I struggled to not fuck myself faster to the sound of his voice. I could have came right then and there with him humming into the phone like that.

“Answer me when I talk to you, Y/N” he demands and I whimper, my legs starting to shake. “Yes, daddy…I wanna cum so bad” I said, my tone barely above a whisper.

“Good, that’s what I want. Now put that vibrator down and rub that clit for me”

“Yes”

I nodded as if he could see me. feeling my juices start to drip directly into my panties as I pull my fingers out, them not being able to keep in or block the essence of me from spilling anymore. Removing my vibrator from my panties, I carelessly tossed it to the other side of the bed and began rubbing small circles on my bundle of nerves, my eyes rolling back into my head. “Shhh—it!” I moaned shamelessly, just now remembering no one could hear me from the penthouse, a pro of living all the way on the top floor alone.

I heard Erik’s breath on the other end speed up along with mine, a low groan erupting from his throat before he spoke.

“I hear it. I know you close”

He kept going with his encouragement, pushing me closer to cumming.

“Mmm, just imagine how this dick gon’ feel stretching you out. I’d have you beggin’ for a break”

“Arch that back too. I wanna make sure I’ll have the perfect view”

“Faster, baby. Get that pussy soaking for daddy to drown in”

My clit jumped at my touch, signaling that I was getting closer and closer to my release. “I’m gonna— I’m g-“ before I could get any word out, I felt my panties get soaked, my legs closing and my upper body popping up on instinct. I gasped in shock at the scene, looking down at not only my legs but my comforter being completely wet with my release.

“Oh shit…” I shook, actively coming down from my high while still looking down at the shocking amount of wet spots underneath me, tiny ones from the splash dotting around the larger one that was directly below me. I heard Erik shift then sigh “so…what was that about it not being that good again?” He spoke cockily and I glared at my phone before cautiously getting off of the bed, careful not to get anything on my carpet.

“Shut up…” I mumble, still in awe, thinking ‘Damn, if he could do that with only his voice, imagine what the dick could do’

✮✮✮✮

277 notes · View notes