#Killmonger AU Fanfiction

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Ice Cold Jax" Geechee!Erik Killmonger

Pairing: Geechee!Erik Killmonger x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Supernatural Horror, Period Piece, Erik Stevens AU, Black American Folktale.

Summary: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens is a Geechee wanderer and lover of big-legged women and good moonshine. On a trip to visit his favorite juke joint in 1940s Mississippi, he entertains a lover of sorts, Lulabelle, the juke joint owner and Madame of the nearby whorehouse. Erik battles two mythical creatures from Black American folklore, the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man in order to save Lulabelle and her establishment. The tale is told from the perspective of a ghost who was once Lulabelle's best friend.

Word count: 5.5K

"The winter time is coming

And it's going to be slow

You can't make the weather baby

it's dry long so

You betta come on in my kitchen

because it's going to be Raining outdoors..."

Cassandra Wilson – "Come on in my Kitchen" (Written by Robert Johnson)

There were two things Lulabelle Humphreys knew how to sell in Itta Bena Mississippi and that was moonshine and other people's pussy.

She did that very well until one night of the Harvest moon when cotton would soon be harvested by the local sharecroppers and itinerant Mexican men who traveled through the delta region looking for work like every other Negro or poor white trash far and wide. On that night under a sweltering heat full of drunk patrons and her smooth-talking whores inside her juke joint with the "special ladies" house attached by a rickety bridge that crossed over a tiny creek full of frogs and singing crickets, Lulabelle witnessed the showdown of all showdowns between the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man, shonuff, right inside her little rambling hot music-havin' and ice-cold beer havin' establishment.

And if it hadn't been for that slow walking city-to-city wandering Geechee man with the gold teeth, slick smile, and flashy suit standing by her with the smarts of his low country kin back in South Carolina, why Lulabelle might've lost everything that night like she lost me so many years ago when that Plat Eye stole me away when we was teenaged girls in these backwoods. But thank the Lord up above for Erik Stevens ramblin' through with that shiny switchblade, and his Gullah ways, cuz shonuff, that was a night to remember and I'm gonna tell it exactly how it happened from top to bottom and all the sides in between. I ain't been dead long enough or forgotten long enough to not tell it all...

"Mavis, how much lavender water is left in there?"

Lulabelle shouted into the open door that led to one of the "loving" rooms inside her special house.

"There's one bottle left," Ruth called out.

The young woman was nothing but string bean arms and toothpick legs, however, she was a favorite among the darker-skinned Black sharecroppers who admired her fair skin and limp shiny black hair. Even the high yella gals envied what Ruth could pull in because the men were willing to part with more money to fuck what was as close to a white woman as they would get.

Lulabelle knew clearly what a fetish was, so she used Ruth for the high income, but she also had Mavis, a crystal Black pearl with a dark hue so deep that negro soldiers from the military base lined up for hours waiting to part her dusky thighs to taste the sticky sweets within. There was someone for everybody at the house. Big women. Little scrawny women. Big Bodacious titties and itty-bitty mosquito bites. For the richly endowed there was Starla with a pussy so fat and deep that blues ballads were written for her. For the poorly imbued, there was Tweety Pie, a tiny woman with a small tight snatch that rivaled Starla in particular-sized fans.

For the men who didn't fawn over the womenfolk, there was Honey Boy, a twenty-something pretty little thing with bow lips, high cheekbones, and a fat ass that posed as a houseboy who brought fresh after-sex towels, water for the whore baths, and rubbers for the men who forgot to prepare for penetration. Honey Boy could dress like a pretty woman and serve clients fat wood if that was to a patron's liking. Lulabelle was surprised at how popular he was becoming on the low low, especially from the men in the military. Men with men had always been a reality, but Honey Boy was multidimensional. He could turn into a Butch boy from a chain gang, to a bullying Army sergeant to dominate and spread male ass cheeks that needed fat balls against balls. Or he could be a dainty femme movie star in a bra and heels with his hard dick swinging. Lulabelle kept a ready supply of costumes for him, more than the women. All the ladies needed were pretty underwear, strong garter belts, and lipstick. She kept quiet that she paid Honey Boy more than anyone else.

The second world war was putting money in her pockets. 1942 was a profitable war year for Lulabelle. Her pocketbook was fat with cash, and she could now afford real jewelry instead of the cheap costume fare she sported the last three years. She could even maintain a steady hot comb appointment at Mamie's Wash and Curl uptown. Her latest favorite style was imitating Joan Crawford's immaculate curls that she saw in the talkies at the Bijou theater. When she really wanted to look glamorous, she would have Mamie swoop up her thick hair on top of her head with a pinned curl on the front and an under curl in the back. The rich white women she saw in the new color catalogues wore their hair like that.

She wore her hair like that for that evening. It was a special night. The Harvest Moon was going up, and the men would be arriving in droves to drink, dance, and fuck.

He was coming too.

The Gullah man. That sly Geechie with the gold teeth.

Erik Stevens.

His arrival always coincided with some new moon every few months. She'd dress up extra special when she thought he was coming through. Her pussy was already twitching thinking about him.

"I'll have Honey Boy get you a fresh bottle," Lulabelle said patting the back of her hair.

It was hot already, and she worried that her hair wouldn't maintain until Erik saw it. Ruth stepped out of the room. The yellow silk camisole Lulabelle bought for her came to her thighs and had enough lace in the front to cover the baby bulge that was threatening to peek out. The girl got knocked up and none of the home remedies the cook Eva concocted worked in knocking the unwanted pregnancy out. Ruth could probably hide the truth for another month or so, but eventually she would have to go on convalescence and Lulabelle would have to rely on the other women to please the Ruth fans until the woman returned or left for a new life in the North. Until then, Ruth was about making her money and camouflaging the bump.

"Can you tell?" she asked.

Lulabelle squinted.

"These men will be too drunk to notice. Keep the garment on and don't worry about it."

Lulabelle checked in on the other ladies and all was well. Seven rooms, seven whores, seven sources of revenue on top of the juke joint next door. She peeked in on one of the mirrors inside a room and felt satisfied. Her beige dress hugged the curves of her big wide hips and large backside. Her heels made her short body have a little height. She needed a little more powder for her round nose, and the grease pencil she used for her eyes held the dark wings she gave herself.

"Eat your heart out, Joan," she muttered to herself.

She crossed the little wooden bridge that led to the juke joint making sure her crème bow top summer pumps didn't get dirty. Her name was painted in fading blue letters above the entrance. By Christmas she hoped to get a fancy electric sign that sparkled "Lula's". Honey Boy swept the porch entry and she could smell the grease being heated on the kitchen stove inside by Eva. There'd be fried chicken, black-eyed peas, collards with ham hocks, and plenty of buttermilk cornbread to sell with the ice cold Jax beer and corn liquor.

Her eyes scanned the lowering sun over the canopy of Tupelo trees. A loud shriek startled her and made Honey Boy stop sweeping.

"What was that?" Honey Boy asked.

His pressed hair was slicked back, and his copper brown skin was moist with sweat from the oppressive heat.

Lulabelle clutched at her chest. The sound came from deep in the woods. The darkness there shrouded any mysteries that lived within it.

"Sounded like something caught," she said.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

A memory.

Being a young teen girl with...

No. Don't think of her. That was the past.

Lulabelle pushed down on the terror in her throat and hid her shaking fingers in front of her dress.

"Probably some unlucky racoon ran across Old Man Rickers trap," she said.

"Yeah, you prolly right, Lulabelle. The man been hunting out there this week."

She heard the doubt in his tremulous voice. The lie hung in the air like dark sap on a dying tree between them.

"That sounded like death is on his way," Eva said.

The older plump woman opened the screen door of the juke joint while wiping down a plate.

"Don't say that, Eva. It's just an old coon, or a slow wild pig—"

The shriek pierced the air again.

"Lord have mercy," Eva said.

The older woman cradled the cheap gold-plated crucifix around her neck.

Rifle shots sounded in the distance and Lulabelle jumped, then smiled.

"See? Just some hunters putting some fresh meat down. Let's get ready for tonight, y'all."

Not one of them moved from the porch until Archie started tinkling on the piano keys inside the juke.

Pussy poppin' in the whorehouse, music jumping, bodies swaying, lips sucking down moonshine and dark beer, Lula's juke shook on its foundations. Dollar bills came in hand over fist as Lulabelle strolled around the property checking in with customers and hustling Eva to fry up more chicken plates. She rounded the corner of the makeshift stage shaking her hips to the hot sounds when her eyes slid to the entrance and saw Geechie Erik swagger in. Double-breasted gray suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Steel-blue silk tie, and black and gray woven Oxford shoes had the Geechie man draped. Lulabelle already knew he smelled like a million bucks even though she was standing nowhere near him. Erik took off his black fedora hat. He had kicked up the waves on his close-cropped hair, and his lightly bearded cheeks gave him a pronounced sophistication compared to all the clean-shaven military men taking up most of the space in the joint.

His eyes scanned the wide room and when they fell on her, her heart sang a minuet in his honor just to see those dimples in his cheeks. He strode toward her with long confident strides and when he circled his arm around her waist, she shivered at his touch.

"Lulabelle, Lulabelle. You get prettier every time I see you."

He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she swooned. His scent was expensive leather, imported cologne, and Murray's hair pomade.

"Lemme get you a drink, Daddy," she purred.

"No, let me get you a drink. Stay right here."

He sauntered over to the big counter and within minutes he brought her back a small glass of whiskey to match his own. They toasted, tossed the liquor back, and he led her to an open table in the low-lit corner as bodies pressed together dancing around them. His thick lips were on her neck before she could gaze into his eyes, and his thicker fingers were already under her dress creeping over a seamed stocking, her garter belt, and the bottom of her girdlette. He inched closer to her core.

"Goodness gracious, you already hot down here," he whispered in her ear.

His finger swiped across Lulabelle's panties bringing her clit to life.

"Oh... there it is... my jewel," he crooned before he slid the garment aside and fingered her slit.

Erik had her sopping wet by the time the band switched tunes. Two of his warm fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, making her pant and writhe on her seat next to him.

"You gon' sweat my hair out already!" she yelped reaching for the back of her neck.

Erik flipped his digits over palm-side up and finger fucked her until a puddle of creamy juices flowed out onto her chair. Once her legs shook and she squirmed uncontrollably, he bolted up from his seat and grabbed her hand. His dick jutted out from his pants and he dragged through the side door that led to the wooden bridge and the loving house.

"Get the fuck out," he told a patron having his dick sucked in the first room they came to.

Tweety Pie was on her knees, her bright red lips puckered around a small light brown penis. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Erik and the rigid length straining against his zipper.

Erik whipped out his switchblade and flicked it open.

"Out!" he barked.

Tweety Pie scrambled from her knees and pulled her customer by his hand with his trousers dragging around his ankles to another room. Erik slammed the door shut on the gawking eyes of the other whores and pushed Lulabelle against a mahogany cabinet that held lingerie.

"Turn around."

The snarl in his voice made her spin and toot her big ass out toward him. He dragged the cool blade up against the bottom of her stockings until it dipped just under the hem of her dress. He yanked her dress up around her chest and the sharp blade skimmed across her black satin-covered ass cheek. With just a little more pressure he could break the skin on her fat rump through the material and make her bleed. Erik jerked the blade and sliced her panties off. She gasped and clutched at the smooth wood of the cabinet for balance. She heard his zipper peel down slowly and felt his hands fumble for a rubber.

"You miss Daddy?"

"Yes!"

He parted her folds before she could catch her breath. The fullness stretching her out made her shout his name and grit her teeth. Pumping into her slowly at first, he teased the hell out of her by pushing in deep, then pulling all the way out so that her pussy lips throbbed needing his dick back inside of her.

"I missed this pussy... so much... taking me so deep!"

His switchblade rested on the middle of her naked spine and tickled her skin purposely.

"Take this dress off!"

He helped her wiggle her arms out of it before unfastening her bra with his hands. Cradling her heavy breasts, he made her cheeks clap as his weapon clattered to the floor. His full concentration was on pleasing her body. Rough wide palms spread her ass cheeks wide as he grunted and pushed down on his thighs to hunch over her.

"Lula, shit... Lula..."

Erik gripped her hips and slammed into her before pulling out and lifting her up. He tossed Lula on the soft lumpy bed, undressed, and plunged back into her. The gold in his mouth glinted above her as he thrust harder and faster knocking the breath out of her body.

Her garter belts bunched up then stretched with her girdlette when he pushed her thighs back.

"Big legged girl... mmmm," he groaned.

He shoved his head down to her folds and sucked on her lower lips before spitting on them and sinking his girth back inside her walls.

"Daddy hittin' that bottom yet?"

"You in there... real deep, Daddy."

"Lemme get deeper..."

Her ankles met her earlobes and the heavy pressure from his dick made her cock-eyed a spilling gibberish from her mouth.

"Oh, Jesus!" she yelped when his fists rested on her sides and he bucked into her, slapping his balls against her ass.

Before he could press his mouth into her swollen pussy again to glisten his face, she clenched up around his dick and squeezed it with rhythmic pulses she had no control over.

"That's a good girl... let that pussy talk to Daddy's dick, Lula."

His eyes watched her contractions yank on his length, and when he finished talking her through her release with high praises and slow wet kisses, he pulled off the rubber and stroked himself against her clit. The silky curls of her pubic hairs were wet with her creamy orgasm and became even wetter when Erik splashed hot cum all over her vulva. His shouts of pleasure filled her with quiet confidence.

"That's it Daddy, cum all over your fat pussy."

He hissed when she said that, and his heated glare encouraged more of his release. A thick rope of semen painted her stomach, and he collapsed on top of her with hard ragged gasps.

"God, I wish I could be in this pussy every day, Lula."

"You could," she said stroking the waves on his hair.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling with her.

"Not with the work I do. I try my best to get here when I can. But shit, baby. If I didn't get this pussy for free, I would pay a fortune for it."

She rolled on her side to look at him, happy that he thought of her like that. His eyes were still on the ceiling, but there was a frown on his face.

"She's in the room, y'know. Up there hiding in the corner."

"Don't say that, Erik. You know it scares me."

"If you did what I told you to do, she'd go away."

"As long as she don't start no foolishness around here, I can live with a ghost."

"Can you? Then how come you're scared?"

"She was my friend. I know she blames me for getting away and not her."

"A good coating of haint blue all around the doors would keep her out..."

"I can't. I can't do that to her. If she's just lingering as a ghost, it makes me feel like she can live a little."

"If you say so."

"Let's not talk about her."

His eyes were still focused on the ceiling, looking at Elizabeth, her childhood friend from so long ago. She couldn't see the dead teenager at all.

"She mad?" Lulabelle asked.

"She loves you. It's why she stays around... floating from room to room... following you."

Lulabelle pulled his chin toward her.

"Don't look. Please."

Erik slipped his tongue in her mouth. A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Lulabelle, sorry to disturb you and your Mister, but I need this room," Tweety Pie squeaked out.

"Give me a minute."

Lulabelle peeled the rubber from Erik's dick and tossed it inside some tissue and chucked it out of the window into a well-placed bucket outside.

"You ruined my panties," she scolded as she jumped up to rinse her privates and stomach in lavender water at a large basin sitting on a maple console table.

She dried her folds and fixed her bra back around her breasts.

"Don't need 'em, I'll be back inside of you soon enough," he said.

Pulling her dress back on, Lulabelle tried to fix her hair and make-up in a mirror.

"You look fine," he said zipping his pants.

Erik picked up his switchblade and opened the door.

Tweety Pie had a new man with her, a handsome young soldier with lust in his eyes.

"Pardon us," Erik said as he guided Lulabelle back to the juke joint.

Lulabelle sat on Erik's lap as he joked with some patrons and slammed back shots of moonshine. She fed him cornbread and pieces of chicken bites with her fingers, and occasionally she would bounce on his hardness that rested against her backside. He tortured her clit with occasional strokes under her dress, but he wouldn't let her cum. That would happen later when he was ready to plunder her pussy once more. Tradition held that he would fuck her at least four more times before he disappeared until the next new moon in the future. She sat on that hard meat all hot and bothered knowing he was going to be cruel by plucking at her bud and sticking his tongue in her ear all night. She watched him dance with a few women and flirt while she checked on her women out back and collected her money, stuffing it in her bra.

Erik was a little too handsy with a couple of fancy ladies and she had to check him. He'd become contentious then, argued with her until she argued him down threatening to cut his balls off if he cheated on her. If she pushed him, just a little too hard, his neck would move in a hostile way that put her in her place and made her drip down her thighs. He liked her mouthy and jealous, but not too jealous if he caught her rubbing her ass against some other patron to provoke him. He'd spank her hard and tell her about herself until she stopped being bratty and soothed his ego. That was his way every time he came to the juke. Arrogant. Loud. Threatening other men who got too close to her, then all seductive when he needed her loving once more.

When no one was looking, Erik unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick and slid her on top of it raw at their private table. Her dress covered the action, and he lifted her up and down.

"You bet not cum," he ordered with harsh breath.

"I won't, I promise," she insisted with clenched teeth.

She was snug on his dick, and the friction was too much to bear. She clutched onto his knees and leaned forward, dropping her weight on his thighs. The rhythm was perfect until a slender man as tall as a Tupelo crept over to their table and sat down. He didn't seem concerned that he was witnessing a woman getting fucked within an inch of her life in the midst of her own rowdy and lascivious establishment.

The man's face was long, and he had long teeth... and long fingers... and long legs... and a long tongue that lolled around in his mouth. He had skin the color of a soft sunset and one big eye in the center of his face. The music and dancing slowed all around her, and all she could see and hear was the long man with his long deep breaths.

"Lulabelle... Lulabelle..." the slender man said, and the voice that spoke her namesake was not pleasant and inviting like Erik's. It was sinister. Conniving. Filthy to her ears.

Erik thrust up into her walls, and she gasped. The slender man smiled with his long teeth, and his one big black eye blinked and Lulabelle fell forward and down into a vortex of hideous darkness until she landed on soft grass in front of the crossroads that led into the dark woods near her juke joint.

"Lulabelle, hurry up! If we don't go now, we'll chicken out!"

Elizabeth ran ahead of her. Dear sweet Elizabeth, eighteen and glowing with a gorgeous figure and good hair, and the good sense to know that Itta Bena was to be left behind. They were going to New York to become showgirls in Harlem, leaving all that country backwoods shit living behind. No sharecropping or cleaning after white folks for them. They were young. Beautiful. Full of life and ready to see the world. That meant crossing through the woods at the old dusty crossroad just as the sun was setting. The last train outta town was due in an hour. Going through the woods was the fastest route to a new life.

But then the slender man came. The Plat Eye. The Haint that haunted the trees and lingered in the darkness deep inside the woods.

Lulabelle, full of eighteen-year-old spunk, dropped her heavy suitcase and pulled Elizabeth back with a hard tug on her arm.

"Dontcha see him, girl?" Lulabelle shouted.

"Oh, he's just another traveler headed outta here too, pick up your suitcase-"

"It's the Plat Eye. You don't see its face. The one eye? The long teeth?"

"You so silly girl! Look at him... just a man tryna run like us."

"No!"

Elizabeth dropped her suitcase and stood with arms all akimbo.

"If you don't wanna go, then say that, Lulabelle."

"You don't see that monster right there?!" she shrieked, and it startled Elizabeth.

The Plat Eye smirked.

"Fine, stay here then you big baby. Hey, Mister, wait up!"

"Elizabeth!"

An arm grabbed Lulabelle's elbow stopping her from running after her friend.

"Don't move, gal."

The voice didn't have Mississippi in it. It was low country and slower than cold molasses. South Carolina lived in it.

"She done made her choice and if you move one inch, I can't protect you."

Lulabelle didn't turn to look at the stranger. His words were wise, and she did as she was told.

"Elizabeth! Come back!"

"It's too late, Lulabelle."

"How you know my name?"

"I've seen you 'round here before with your friend."

She tried to turn around, but firm hands held her shoulders in place.

"Don't hurt me, Mister."

"Nah, I wouldn't do nothin' like that."

The Plat Eye grew taller almost reaching the height of the nearest tree.

"She can't see what it is?"

"She see what she wanna see."

The thing that was as tall as a Tupelo bent down and opened its tall mouth and Elizabeth stepped into the dark maw...

Lulabelle gasped and her thighs sensed the strong muscles of Erik's legs holding her up once more. He fucked her still, hitting her walls harder. His hands gripped her breasts as he grunted and rolled her nipples with agile fingers. The slender man of her past smiled, his greasy lips splitting wide as he was long. That single eye a tainted monstrosity to behold on its face.

The juke joint partied on, and men filed out through the side door to pay their money for an extra good time with her girls. The Plat Eye reached out for Lulabelle's arm and Erik slammed his switchblade down on the table.

"Nah, haint. This one here belongs to me."

The Plat Eye blinked that Cyclops eye in shock and its mouth fell open.

"Should've known you'd be around here," The Plat Eye grumbled sitting back in his chair.

A clammy wetness dampened Lulabelle's neck. Memory boomeranged back into her chest. The low country voice. The strong hands that held her waist so that he could rut into her pussy.

Lulabelle turned her head and the glint from Erik's gold teeth became a glowing source of ethereal light. The full lips and bright white teeth still looked human but the reverb of hidden power sat under the guttural rasp of his voice.

The man from the Crossroads.

The one who stopped her from entering the throat of the Plat Eye and turning into a floating haint that lived in the ceiling like Elizabeth.

The Geechee Man.

"Ya don't play fair," The Plat Eye grumbled again.

"And?" Erik said.

Erik's firm hands skated up her sides and rested on her shoulders. Lulabelle's pussy squelched on his dick all rude and loud. Plat Eye licked his fleshy lips.

"This here the one I wanted. Not that other one—"

Lulabelle snatched up Erik's switchblade and jumped up from his lap. Her pussy throbbed from being removed from his erection. She held the open switchblade against his throat. Why couldn't anyone else in her juke joint see or hear what was happening?

She knew the stories. All kinds of frightening things could be met at a crossroads. And if the Crossroads Man himself showed up—

"Put that down, Lula. It's not a toy to be played with," Erik said zipping up his pants.

The Plat Eye leaned forward and shot his arm out to grab her, but Erik was quicker. He snatched the switchblade back faster from her grip than she could blink, and he slashed the creature's arm. Black festering ooze seeped from the wound and sizzled as it splashed on the table burning holes through the wood.

"Give her to me," the Plat Eye demanded.

Erik stood up and straightened his tie.

"Nigga you ain't getting shit but an ass kicking if you keep playing with me. I told you already. This one is mine. Get on about yourself before I send you on your way to a very bad place."

"There are rules!"

The Plat Eye leapt to his feet and towered over Erik. Not by much though.

"I make the rules," Erik said.

An arrogant chuckle tumbled out of the Plat Eye's mouth. He gripped the lapels of his suit and blinked that one beastly eye. His open wound continued to drip ruining her good table.

"My man," The Plat Eye said and held up his long fingers to placate Erik.

The creature slid out from the juke joint with no one the wiser. Erik turned to face her and Lulabelle jumped away from him.

"Stay back!"

"Lula... c'mon, baby. I've been coming to you ever since you opened this place. Have I ever harmed you once?"

"No."

"I just give you good lovin' when I can."

"That's why you can't be with me all the time?"

He nodded.

"I guard the way, and I open it up. Everywhere."

Lulabelle ran to the bar and made Eva pour her the biggest glass of moonshine possible. She gulped it down. Erik sauntered over to her.

"Don't be scared of me, Lula."

"What are you... really?"

"Your man."

"You ain't no man."

"I'm no demon if that's what you're worried about."

"God forbid if I'd been fucking the devil."

"I'm no devil, girl. Far from it."

He stroked her face.

"Let's go to the back. I need you... right now."

His voice made her insides tingle. This was their time. But how could she go back and make love to... to a what? Spirit? Guardian angel? Supernatural being?

He never did hurt her. And never once did she suspect that he wasn't anything other than a switchblade carrying Geechie that made her backbone slip.

"Are there others?" she asked, "Others like you around here?"

"Always. But you don't have to worry about nothin'. You got me. No one fucks with me.'

"How come you didn't save Elizabeth?"

"She didn't want to be saved."

"But I loved her. She was my best friend. Why would she leave me?"

"She's still here. She'll never leave until you chase her on."

"Is she happy?"

"Like I told you, she loves you. If you're happy, she's happy."

"God won't punish me for being with you, will he?"

"She won't. I promise."

"What about me selling pussy and a little dick?"

"Not even on her mind."

Lulabelle smiled.

Erik slinked over to her and rubbed his big body against hers and nudged his bearded face against her soft cheek.

"How many women have you seduced over the years?"

"You my favorite."

"That didn't answer my question.," she said putting a hand on her hip.

"You wanna argue or get some more dick, gal?"

Lulabelle checked the room. Her patrons were happy and not having a care in the world. Eva cooked more food, Honey Boy kept the girls refreshed in their loving rooms, and the Harvest moon spilled in through the window behind the juke band.

Moonlight bathed Erik's face and he slid his hand under her dress again.

"Daddy needs to take care of you... oh see now, my sweet jewel is all plump again."

He removed his hand and licked his fingers sticky with her essence. She rubbed on his crotch and he gifted her with a hard bulge. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

"Elizabeth wants you to get all this," he said grinding against her.

"Can you tell her that I miss her? That I love her?"

"She already knows."

Erik lifted her up and carried her across the rickety bridge and back to the soft lumpy bed.

That's their story, and I ain't tellin' it twice. Lula and her Geechee Man played nice for a long, long time. I keep watch and makes sure that stays true. Until we meet again on the next new moon...

Part 2 "There's Some Whores in This House" HERE.

A.N:

This was a birthday story I wrote for @soufcakmistress back in 2021.

[erikftglitter]

Ch 1 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

“Hey Dr. Stevens. It’s Kari. I just wanted to thank you again for the kind gesture.”

Erik read the message several times before exuding a deep sigh. He had spent most of the night trying to forget the younger woman, but the universe was setting him up for failure.

She’s practically in our hands, Erik.

He wanted to silence the overbearing thoughts from flowing but he couldn’t help but to also think that it was true. Didn’t he deserve the woman and kids that Kari, and so many others, mentioned to him before? Did he really want to commit to dying alone in a world like this?

“No need to thank me Kari. Thank you for not contacting the board about our collision.”

Erik found himself humored with his own response. Little did he know that Kari was gushing from the desk chair that she was texting from. Could this be? She wondered if the doctor would really be interested in seeing her again. Well, seeing her under normal circumstances.

“I won’t…. Only if you allow me to be your tour guide.”

Kari was persistent, inexperienced, but persistent to get the ex-SEAL out of the house. She surprised herself with her forwardness but the clock was ticking and her local blue-collared men were no where near as appealing as Dr. Stevens.

“A man of my word, that I am. Saturday?”

Erik needed to be strategic about his decisions moving forward if he wanted this woman to live. His self deprivation was starting to take a toll on him. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for it boil over once Kari was in his presence.

Just thinking about the girl’s astonishing aura and utter beauty made Erik’s dick jump yet again. What was it about her? He thought back to the initial moment when they locked eyes. She could not maintain eye contact and that certainly enamored him. He could spot a submissive woman quite easily.

Not just someone who was infatuated by the idea of being dominated by him, but someone who was completely meek. Someone who would be most compliant tied up and fucked to the state of oblivion. Kari Evans radiated that. Erik was 99% percent that his declaration of the girl was correct but he’d be patient enough to find out.

“Yes. Wear comfy shoes.”

Erik was more than pleased to return back to work. To focus on a ruptured appendix, or to remove someone’s gallbladder, or even just to guide one of his residents through a hemorrhoid surgery, supplied him a reasonable amount of distraction time. During surgery his main focus was his performance efficiency. Dr. Erik Stevens did not kill patients. One of the reasons the he remains one of the highest earners in the nation is due to that. Erik knew his limitations and typically did not engage in anything that would kill anyone, inside and outside of the operating room, post departure from the Navy.

“Dr. Stevens. Got a minute?” Erik glanced up from his seat at the computer and signaled for the man to continue.

“I was looking over Mrs. Gutierrez’s files, the one who was just transferred, and she’s rejecting the transplant.”

Erik’s face fell into a deep frown. In only his three months at Oregon State Hospital, he’s noticing the consistent errors being completed by the competing hospital. Once their team botches a surgery; Erik and his team are left to clean up the mess.

“Another transplant this soon would kill her before the week ends. Contact her family and consult about the removal. If they wait then the sepsis will spread.”

Erik looked at the extent of the damage on the results that his resident provided. He’s not completely successful just because of his own experience. Thankfully Oregon welcomed him with a skilled team upon his negotiation and he was provided with them when he arrived. He wasn’t fond of many people in his life, but some of his team made his job rewarding.

“Great call.” He murmured to himself. He learned from his mentor, that learned from his mentor, and so forth, that praising young professionals too early made them arrogant. Made them incompetent surgeons who overlooked misplaced sutures, mistreated nurses, and failed to remain at the peak of their performance. The younger surgeon reminded him of himself. That was as respected as he could be.

Kari on the other hand was not having a good time. One of her middle schoolers thought it was a great idea to climb a tree and ultimately suffered a great fall. Why? Kari didn’t have the time to asks as the girl was soaking blood through her jeans.

With trembly hands, Kari used her walkie talkie to call for an ambulance and tried her best to soothe the hysterical girl.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Kari must have repeated that a thousand times before the first responders arrived.

“Ms. Evans. Nina will not cooperate unless you ride with her.” Principal Grant said to Nina as she stood up to disregard the abundance of bloody tissues.

“Don’t worry about the sub plans. The parents would like if you accompanied her as well.” He gave her an empathetic look. “Thank you for being one of good ones.” He whispered when Kari was helped in the ambulance by the first responders.

It was true. Kari was an extraordinary educator. Each of her students were individualized. She knew their strengths, allergies, their personalities, and their ability to learn. Because Caber City’s public school system was barely funded by the state of Oregon, most of teachers were underpaid. Most teachers married rich and taught for a hobby. The students rarely got the opportunity to experience a memorable relationship with education, but Kari made it her mission to change that.

Because she was young and unmarried with a strong sense of change, she was immediately disliked by her coworkers. She grew to pity their lives instead of watching in sorrow. Her students had the highest grades, standardized test scores, and overall success. That was no coincidence and it didn’t go unnoticed. If Kari wasn’t good at anything else she knew that she was a wonderful teacher. Years of watching and modeling her grandmother instilled that in her. She remembered her everyday.

“What’s going? How’d this happen?” Kari met the frantic parents as soon as she arrived at the hospital.

“During her lunch hour she wandered off to a tree and fell several feet from the ground.” The gasps from Nina’s parents troubled Kari. She hated bad news and bad things in general.

“I’m very sorry that this happened. I’ll go now, but I wanted to ensure that Nina was safely taken to the hospital.” Kari spoke again. Not really sure what else she could provide to these poor girls’ parents.

Nina’s mother spoke again. “Thank you for riding with her. She hates hospitals and probably would have passed out if she had to go alone.” Even though the shakiness, Kari understood every word. These were the moments that made her restless nights worth it.

Kari reached her hand to Nina’s mom, and looked at both parents, “She’s a very sweet girl. They’ll take great care of her.” With her final comment she began to frantically rush out the hospital herself. She hated hospitals just as much. With the amount of dried blood on her own clothes she knew that it wouldn’t be long before her own panic attack started.

Kari didn’t care about who she was running past, she just knew that she needed fresh air before she began to hyperventilate. The memories of finding her own grandparents in pools of blood haunted her. Drunk drivers collided with their car and drove away, killing both of the people who raised her.

“Kari?”

“Oh shit. Kari. Breathe.”

“Breathe.”

Erik took in the scene in front of him. There was no way this was yet another coincidence. This was going to be the one that one that Kill was going to play with.

With guided breaths and some gentle touches of encouragement, Kari was able to control her breathing. She’s not sure when she realized that it was Dr. Stevens she had been talking to, but at least it saved her the embarrassment of passing out in the middle of the road. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in the doctor’s proximity.

Between the wails of her student and the acquisition of her own trauma, she didn’t have much time to think about Erik.

“It’s alright Kitten.”

—

@ladymac82 :)

[ghostsprettymama]

MONA LISA.

“ i want you to give in”

Warnings: smut,bullying,panick attacks,alcohol and possible drug use, anxiety, talks of suicide,toxic relationships,fatphobia,gun violence, throw up. MDNI.

Word count: 4,274 words 22,560 characters

pairings: Riri williams x Black! Reader fluff, shuri x Black! reader, top!black reader x gang member ! Shuri udaku

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ UNLESS MENTIONED OTHERWISE

A/N: NAUR BC I WAS WORKING ON TS IN MY DRAFTS AND I ACCIDENTLY DELETED IT 😭😭 BUT TYSM FOR SM LOVE ON THE LAST POST HERES PART 2.

part one part three

blue text = whispering.

Y/N pov

You woke up in your room . With no collection on how you ended up there, but you do remember why you have this massive ass hangover, you checked your phone seeing Shuri’s message on instagram.

you squinted at the messages smiling, but your momment got ruined by your Brother “ wake yo ass up or T and all of us are leaving yo blackass home and you're gonna miss your first day" Said Erik on the other side.

You groaned getting up from your bed charging your phone while you went to the shower "siri play my song. " you said in your gentle morning voice.

Your phone responded automatically playing your song while you showered putting on your F/s bodywash, taking care of yourself in the shower, stepping out when youre squeaky clean and smelling good.

Youd put on your fit for the day stopping the music, taking your phone and charger with you, along with your purse so you have other mecessarities with you.

you went downstairs heading outside while Erik was waiting for you, he looked you up and down "Fuck you goin lookin like that" Erik said glaring down at you, the 6'2 man said looking down at you "take ya blackass back and change, my sister aint going out like no whore" he said.

A whore? You're dressed like a whore.. you look at him your pretty eyes threatened tears, your pretty makeup threatening to be ruined. "nono please, bee I promise you can go like that you aren't a whore" Erik said to you, your tears no longer threatening to come out.

You both headed to the car and the Udaku sibblings followed behind, shuri looked you up and down Before smacking your ass when the older brothers arent looking.

"SHURI-"

you yelped and the men turned around looking like someone was about to be murdered, both of them reaching for their hips, shuri motioned for them not to and you didnt understand why.

"sorry saw a spider" the two tall dudes sighed shaking their heads "dont do that shit again unless you want us to make sure someones not breathing anymore" said T'challa shaking his head getting in the drivers seat after unlocking one of his many cars, but he only used this one for school. you reached for shuris' hand but she shook her head " youre big now, you dont need to hold my hand" She obviously teased,

You just got in the backseat of the car with shuri, the two men sitting up front. you thought about what she had said, it made you upset either way, but you shook your head listening to one of your second favorite songs

SHURI POV

she looked at instagram going to her dms, seeing one unread dm from Riri, a close friend of hers, they werent at all interested in eachother but here and there theyd joke like they were.

She looked at the previous convo trying to remember what and who they were talking about and why, these two werre notorius shit talkers, but aint nobody stopped them, even if they can they cant.

Ohhh... she thought ttyping fast with her digits trying to carry on with the conversation hoping Riri isnt mad,Not that Shuri needs her, she js enjoys her prescense as a friend, she held Riri dearly to her.

She rolled her eyes turning her phone off, Shuri knew Riri was just concerned about Y/n, after all the school they go to is fucked up, but its the closest and least expensive one.

T'challa pulled up to the school everyone but Y/n getting out, Shuri decided to show out and open y/ns door helping her out the car. She held her hand as they walked into ths school, everyone looking Y/n up and down

"Why are they looking at me shuri.." she said to shuri in a whisper, "well maybe because youre a woman thats fine as fuck coming to a bigass school, and holding my hand?" Y/n bobbed for the answer and got the wrong apple, Shuri took the ' sarcastic asshole ' response in return for a dumb question.

T'challa pov

"You two already got your schedule right?" T'challa said turning to them, hoping to god they didnt forget the schedules at home or theyre gonna have to drive back. Even if T' challa seemed to be some ' big scary gangsta ' as titled by peers. He rather not be late to class.

"yeah, i got me and i put Y/n's schedule in her purse so we good." Erik said, T'challa got closer to erik when he pulled schedule out, shit was so crumbled you could barely read the words on there. "My nigga what the FUCK is this??" t'challa looked at him with his signature look on his face.

"Bro leave me alone i was rushing" said Erik looking back at him as if he got hit in the head with a hot comb. they both broke out into laughter not being able to take looking at eachother like that. "anyways we got the same schedule, what about you two?" T'challa looked at the girls who were already gone.

"did they ju- " T'challa turned to erik and he nodded, both of them shook their head in sync. "kids these days.."he said causing erik to chuckle.

They hated eachother but still kept the unremovable bond of their good friendship, who even knows why they arent actually friends anymore. The tale is like a mystery to people. Neither T'challa or Erik open up about it, but only shuri and the udaku sibblings mother Ramonda knew.

homeroom period bell rings

Y/N pov

She sat by Shuri and her friend Riri we met while walking around,both were on each sides of me and it mad me feel safe, she adjusted her braclets bracelets, some teachers gave her work the students were already working on,i only had gotten it due to the fact that shes a " hard worker".

Riri nudged me motioning me to pull my jacket up and cover my chest, I raised my eyebrows looking down, shit...she left hickeys on my chest you thought to yourself zipping up your jacket "Thanks Riri..." you smiled at her and she gave you a fist bump. "its nothin, a sista helps a sista out" she said as the bell rang your homeroom teacher coming in, damn she was fine.

RIRI POV

Shuri better not let this one go, i actually like her. She sighed to herself after fist-bumping her, Watching Miss Romanoff come in Rolling her eyes, she desperately loathed that woman with everything in her damn body.

“Good morning class we have a new student today, could you stand up” said Natasha,Riri glanced at her and she got up walking to the front,

I dont got a good feelin about this, She looked at shuri and shuri nodded feeling the exact feelings

Y/n POV

She got up, coming to the front of the classroom waiting for it to go silent. She gave her usual pretty smile. “ Hello im Y/n L/n and i hope this school treats me right”. She was going for her seat before Romanoff said something.

“ any facts? Like your family or you” She said to Y/n as she sat down, she looked at shuri before looking at riri, both of them shook their heads. “I Rather not, thats not anyones buisness in here anyway” you shrugged sitting back down, finishing the papers you had gotten.

Romanoff's eyebrow raised before she went to her desk handing you a paper and book. Youd put it aside before putting the papers in youur pink folder putting it in your folder.

you felt eyes on you, when you turned you looked at a white boy with brown hair and dark eyes trying to uncover who you are.

But his friend next to him calling him, causing the boy to look away.

You raised an eyebrow at his actions, a weird one you thought. Maybe he wanted to play a game, but you werent interested in some white boy with a staring problems games.

After class

you and your two friends left first standing by the lockers and talking about what had happened, shuri paid attention to your body language taking note of Peter, if he made you uncomfy she would do something about it, if he didn't then he was fine.

“Yeah, the weird guy? Peter, he’s usually talking to ned in their world, I don't know what's up with me today.” Riri said shrugging it off, you dismissed it too not caring about him either way, shuri looked at Peter and ned while you two talked. “I just find it weird that the nigga was staring at me like I'm the Mona Lisa,” you said uncomfy with what he did. “Hold that thought” riri and shuri went over to the two guys.

you were on your phone as you suddenly looked up seeing two red marks on peters face.

Shuri POV

She was paying attention to her friends body language “I just find it weird that the nigga was staring at me like I'm the Mona Lisa,” said y/n shifting her body showjng she was uncomfy. almost immediantly the two girls looked at eachother nodding oou im gonna beat this dough boy colored bitches ass. shuri thought " hold that thought" she said as she moved off the wall going over to Peter and ned, they wanted nothing with ned he was cool for now.

"What the fuck is your problem," Riri said staring up at Peter. She didn't care at all about the height difference in height, after all the bigger they are the harder they fall. Riri put her finger in the middle of his chest roughly pressing it against the middle as if it was a knife. “So you just gon’ creep my friend out and stare at her? We know the shit you're trying to pull Peter and stop digging for shit you shouldn't even know” said shuri spitting venom at the male before giving him a big smack to the face

“Hey man in sorry for him, he was j-” ned tried to defend his friend but Riri interrupted him "Shut the fuck up ned, this dont involve you" she stared at him as if the poor boy committed an act of murder to her friend. "if you wanna keep ya girl mj, even if that bitch is yours, leave Y/n alone" said Shuri walking away with Riri.

"does she even know why shes not at that school anymore? or about the shit both of your familys do huh?" Peter said as he was trying to anger Shuri and Riri more. “Its none of her buisness” said shuri as they kept walking .

“What does he-”dont worry about it” Shuri interrupted as they continued walking, Y/n looked at them before catching up to the others

LATER

Y/n pov

you sat on the bleachers watching the two play basketball for gym class recording it to watch later on my camera, when the bell rang shuri lifed her shirt whiping her sweat off, her sports bra and v line showing, along with the lovebites and kisses from lastnight on her body. you stopped filming putting the camera in your purse staring at her body.

"you like her ? " a voice said to her causing her to jump, her purse being sent all the way to shuri from her jumping so much . you turned around looking at the pretty girl beside of you "kiana" she said to you, her name so you nodded saying yours "Y/n" you said smiling to her. Her entourage was behind her watching the two of her “oou shes pretty... Is that Shuri's girlfriend?” said one of the girls “Thats Mariana, ignore her” you nodded “so what was your question” you adjusted yourself looking at Kiana, you weren't scared of her and you knew what she was trying to do. “a statement actually, You shouldn't like shuri, shes like of dem playgirls” she looked at your hickeys and kisses shuri left on you. You nodded getting up “mmh. Kiana rii? Yeah. Just because you were one of her hoes or rejected by her, dont mean you get you and ur friends to scare me away from my childhood bestie, i know her more then you ever would” you declared showing no form of emotion, Riri and Shuri called for you as they came out the lockerooms.

“It's ‘ight, she doesn't like fat bitches ‘nyway,” said Mariana, causing you to turn around and stare “ that's crazy becausee... She didnt say that last night. “ you shrugged it off walking past your bag, and giving shuri a little kiss on the lips, you dont know what fueled you but you did it anyways.

“What's with the sudden kiss?” shuri stared then looked up to see Kiana and Mariana then back to y/n who bent down to pick her bag up causing her to stare.

“Mmh y/n..” she stared for the longest time before smacking it, loud enough for the gym to hear. You flinched turning to shuri with a face red as a tomato. “Payback” she’d say smiling, Mariana and Kiana walked over to shuri putting their arms around her.

“Hey, baby. Why are you fucking around with someone like her I thought you liked us” Mariana said her acrylics Circling them on her chest. Shuri smiled at her getting lost in the momment " you know its not like that ma im up for anyone i can do what i want, nobody gon' hold me down anytime soon." she used the same nickname and voice she used for you. "shuri." said riri and kiana hushed her.

you had a “ did this bitch really just...” face on offended at how your two faced friend was acting"Nah Riri let's go. let shuri fuck around with her hoes like she always does" Youd say leaving and not waiting for riri, the bell rang for lunch, you were hurt bad.

Riri POV

" you said you wouldnt play her Shuri, i knew you were a damn lie" Riri said spitting venom at her as she got her bag leaving " like you said her soft ass wasnt gonna last here" Riri turned around staring up at shuri. "yknow what.." she clocked both of the thots on shuris dead in the nose. " fuck you and your thots, you know i dont fuck with this playgirl shit" she said leaving.

Riri saw the girls go the same way y/n went as she looked both at Kiana and Mariana "oou im sick of yall." she ran after them following them to the bathroom

Shuri looked at the two , realising what she did and said was wrong, "fuck." she sighed movinf past them and going to the lunchroom to get Erik.

Riri on the other hand came in the bathroom seeing the other 4 girls bang on the stall Y/n was in . she heard her crying and hyperventilating, she was havinqg "either yall gon' get the fuck out or im airing this bitch out right now." Riri reached for under her shirt, the girls stopped running out as she sighed, sitting by the stall

"Hey Y/n you 'ight ?" she leaned against the stall listening to her cry." Shuri probably didnt mean it, she was lo- " she got interrupted by the sounds of her throwing up and the toilet flushing. soon y/n came out, sitting on the counter in the bathroom.

" im Fine, i know sex doesnt mean you love them its whatever, we were drunk" y/n said i saw her try to keep a straight face, but she failed crying her eyes out again, her makeup was ruined, you signed hugging her, she burried her head into riri's shoulder as she patted and rubbed y/n's back to soothe her. "lets get you prettied up again yeah?" said Riri as she used makeup wipes from her gym bags cleaning y/n's face. "you know how to do make up?" Y/n sniffled asking you. "girl hell yeah i do? ion got lucious lashes like you do but shiit i got the falsies that look like yours. I wish i had your features" Riri said with a smile, doing y/n's makeup for her.

"Why'd you say that? youre so pretty and strong Ri, and you stand up for your friends ." She smiled. wow shes so pretty, why does she play games with shuri.. id deffinently treat her right. Riri shook her head as she didnt know why she had these thoughts, she wasnt going to act on it either, shes not that kind of person. "thanks." she smiled

Y/n pov

She was so nice to me and i dont know why, Riri turned my face to the mirror, i smiled seeing my new makeup i hopped down giving her a kiss on her head hugging her . " thank you so much Ri!"

Erik, T'challa and Shuri came busting in and we both sighed turning to them. "what the hell happened in here?" T'challa said , Shuri looked at you hoping you returned contact, still hurt by what you said you didnt look at her. your focus was on T'Challa, " nothing. it isnt important " you said turning back to them going back to talking yo Riri.

Erik came over putting his hand on your shoulder, thinking its shuri's you smack it off turning around " the fuck do you want?? didnt you already do en- you turned to eriks face staring you dead in the eyes. " Were serious y/n. what the fuck happened." He said trying to intimidate the answers out of you, well not trying you already are.

"If i said its nothing then its nothing micheal! im sure you know because the captain of hoes over there already ran her mouth. instead of fucking helping me from her sillicone dick crazed hoes." you screamed starting to go off because you were getting overstimulated. "i dont need a damn knight right now because i got fucked over five minutes ago just because one of Shuri's crazy ass fans" you pushed past them leaving , you decided to hide in the darker part of the schools library.

The lights were busted here, you curled up into a ball sighing, your eyes felt heavy, and behan to close, eventually closing for a good time.

you got woken up by someone moving your head to their lap, you open your eyes trying to see who it was shuri. you were too tired to argue so you just sat up sighing.

"what time is it," you asked her as she looked at you, she had a look you saw the look on her face that you never saw throughout the 13 years you knew her. "its 4th period, almost over but why the hell are you hiding here." said shuri looking at me with a cigarette in her mouth.

“Number one.” you said as you took the cigarette from her mouth. Stomping on it, "two if you wanna talk to me do it respectfully" you straddled her lap looking her in the eyes you got close to her almost close enough to kiss her " you can speak now, and dont use nicknames" you said crossing your arms.

Shuri Pov

Shuri blew the smoke away from your face fanning it before diverting her attention back to you " why are you jealous if we arent dating" i said rasing a brow trying to get the answers out of her

Y/n hesitated before huffing, her cold breath blowing on my face. " Because you make my heart race, you give me butterflies and just make me wanna do things to you.. " she got close to my lips and my heart began to race, but she pulled away, her eyes looking at me full of lust and anger. " then why dont you act on them ma." i said smirking knowing that'd set her her off.

"I said no names," Y/n said yanking my hair back and causing me to look up. "you already pissed me off acting like a player, I know damn well you arent one" she’d positioned herself to be looking down at me. “ i want you to myself shuri, im not sharing you, i want you to give in “ she said, her lips kissing mine.

her lips went to attack my neck leaving love bites, and bite marks. The arousal this woman is causing me will be the death of me, part of me wants to make her work, and another just wants her so bad, but i deffinently cant do this relationshp shit, its scary.

“How about you work for it? Yeah?” i said mocking her but Y/N absolutely didnt like that,she yanked my hair causing me to moan. “Okay okay, fuckbuddies yeah? How about tha -

“stop fucking talking.” she took my shirt off of me. She sucked and kissed my collar bone causing tiny moans to escape my mouth, her tongue swirled and flicked on my nipples, and I heard the librarian nearby. Oh fuck. Please baby don't do this right now. “Shut the fuck up then” Y/n whispered before going back to attacking my breasts, her fingers sliding to my pussy, her digits Massaging my clit in a circular motion.

god damn she was so sexy like this. I moaned in her ear causing her to bite my nipple, the pain causing my pussy to get wetter, her fingers entered my pussy fingering me nice and slow, the squelching being able to be heard.

Shuri tried to speak but got interrupted by Y/n’s thumb rubbing her clit in circular motions, She felt so good right now, Finally, y/n would let go of Shuri's hair .

Peter and neds voice was heard and that made y/n smile, “ma, no. We can continue late-” she whispered to the angered y/n pulling her pants down. She yoinked her panties down not even giving shuri a second to speak, immediately eating her pussy out. She blew cold air against Shuri's’s pretty soaked cunt, she used her tongue to explore her pretty cunny(cunt,pussy). Shuri gasped for air her hips rocking against her face riding her high.

Peter and Ned slowly got closer and closer. “Baby I'm gonna cum fuck, please me just like that I'm so proud of you” Shuri would say keeping their eye contact with y/n. “mmh cum in my mouth, please i wanna taste you “ said Y/n.

Shuri bit her lips as she squirted in Y/ns mouth,Shuri panted then moaned louder when y/n was licking her clean.

Y/n licked my thighs clean before fixing my pants and underwear, i stood up fixing it myself.

“do you forgive me?” Y/n Nodded turning to shuri “cmon were gonna be late” i said going down the stairs holding her hand.

Y/n pov

I smiled to myself, that didnt settle the jealously but i knew I did what those hoes couldn't. Pride filled my stomach as we went down the stairs facing Ned and Peter who had shocked faces on.

“well.. We were sent to look for you” said ned beginning to turn around to the entrance of the library, walking away.

Peter sighed rubbing his temples. “in a school...” he said with disappointment in his voice Shaking his head “could you two like?? Not wait to fuck at home?” he said stating the fact that we have a problem.

"you mad i got to her first peter?" said Shuri getting in his face. "see thats your problem. you assume i want her because i was staring, i was only doing so because shes pretty and i was curious" said peter looking down at shuri.

"So you hit him for no reason Shuri?" I said turning to her with an eyebrow raised. "well he made my friend uncomfy, so i fixed it Udaku style fym?" she said acting as if she didnt assault a man because he made me uncomfy. i shook my head .

"well we gotta go peter last period of the day." i said skipping on to the next class.

------

CLASS STARTS

I wrote notes down in my notebook for history, since its black history month today they were studying Marsha p. Johnson, i paid close attention the whole class.

i had sat next to erik,shuri and riri. T'challa didnt have this class anymore since he passed the test with full credit.

Erik had his glasses on since we sat far and he needed to see desperately, sometimes I’d et him copy my notes as long as he changed it up, Mariana and Kiana came in with busted noses and black eyes.

my phone dinged and in sync we all checked the gc.

i looked at riri and she whistled looking at the sky, we all laughed as the bell rang, all of us going outside to the car.

Eventually we made it home in time for my rest,i went on the steps and felt shuri turn me around giving me a deep and long kiss. evemtually i pulled away before it lead to anything else due to me being tired. "thanks ma, for coming back" she smiled smacking my ass before she left.

i smiled at her watching her till she went inside, going inside myself getting ready to sleep

----

A/N: this took long as hell to write my fingers hurt 😒. LEAVE A LIKE BELOW IF YOUD WAANT MORE

[mickimomo]

In Another Life

AU where Oni and Killmonger are siblings instead of enemies

Imagine how giddy I felt when I saw an image of KiKi and Michael. I just knew that I had to write this after that. 🥹 (source: just jared)

So, in this AU, Zuri adopts Erik after his father is killed, and he properly explains what happened and why his father died. And instead of abandoning him in the US, he takes him to Wakanda and raises him with his wife, who he was arranged to marry and eventually passes after having Oni due to complications a few years later. In the end, there's never a coup for the throne, and Erik is just eager to serve Wakanda and take care of his family. Maybe he eventually goes off to become a War Dog and then works with T'Challa and Nakia to start a program to help members of the Lost Tribe. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I'm just spilling my brain.

Here's what I wrote:

"Erik."

"Yeah, Uncle James?"

"Where's Oni?" He arched a brow as his adopted son walked into the Temple of Bast, covered in sweat and grit from all the chores he had been working on outside.

"Huh?"

"Where's Oni?"

"She's not in here with you?"

Zuri gave him a fatherly look as he plucked one last yellow leaf from the herb plant he was tending to and got up. "It's almost noon. I assumed she was with you." He furrowed his eyebrows.

A light bulb went off in his head when he realized what might be going on. "Ah. Well. She was." He laughed softly. "I forgot I sent her off to run a small errand earlier."

"A small errand?"

"To get some water from the river for the herbs."

Cebisa's eyes became saucers at the news. "On her own!?!"

"She's fine. She said she could handle it."

The short plump woman scolded the tall man with a few motherly pinches. "I swear, the two of you are the reasons my hairs are turning white."

"That's not our fault."

"Oh?"

"It's because you're getting old."

"Old eh? I only look old from all this stress!" She smacked him. "After all I do. I tell you. The children of this world are getting more disrespectful."

"I'm grown."

"You're not grown if you do not respect your elders."

"Now you know I don't believe that bullshit-"

"AH! AH!"

Zuri closed his eyes as Cebisa began to shout at his son in xhosa and dust him with red sand for cursing.

Erik took it like be always did.

A shit eating grin and a few chuckles that earned him more sand and a threat to wash his mouth out with soap.

Cebisa stormed as the young man bit back a chuckle.

"You need to do better." He opened his eyes to look at Erik. "Next time she will use your mouth as a soap mold."

"What about Oni?" He joked.

"It is your fault that she even knows profanity."

"My fault? She's in her 20s, Uncle James."

"Who was it that made Oni's first word a curse word?"

Erik bit his tongue when he recalled his little sister as a baby, casually dropping the f bomb and giving almost everyone in the room a heart attack.

And babies being babies.

She just kept saying it.

And he was the #1 suspect.

Uncle James never put his hands on him before, but he was really worried when that happened.

It took an entire month of learning other words to get that word out of her vocabulary, and curse words were forbidden from then on out.

"It's a sentence enhancer."

Zuri shook his head before waving him off. "Go help Oni, before I enhance you with more work. You know she's probably struggling making her way back in her gown and veil."

"Alright." He offered a small nod before retreating.

°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l|💜|l°l||l°l||l°l||l°°l||l°l||l°l||l°

Erik found Oni cursing under her breath as she struggled to carry a vibranium pole with four large buckets of water up a hill.

Her lilac dress was soaked, slightly tattered, and the bottom was filthy with mud.

Her veil stuck to face with sweat, and her breath was labored as she slowly journeyed upwards.

"Did I just hear the Vessel of Bast curse?"

"Don't fucking start." She snapped.

"Ooooh. Wait till Uncle James finds out."

"N'Jadaka, I am too tired to argue with you."

"Well, you look like you went through hell." Erik chuckled.

"Victory doesn't always look pretty." She grunted as she slowly made her way towards him.

"I don't get why you always insist on taking the hard route." He moved forward to help. "I sent you off to do this hours ago. How long did you fight to get four buckets balanced on your shoulders instead of taking four trips?"

"All morning." She huffed before growling at his assistance. "I don't need your help!"

"Yes. Yes. You are strong and mighty." He imitated her voice before he poked her forehead. "But you're also soft and fragile."

"I don't like that." She huffed.

"It's called balance, sis. You can't be strong without weakness." He scolded her softly.

"I'm training to be strong. I can't afford to be weak."

"Yes, you can. You don't have to be strong all the time. You got the best big brother in the world. You know I'll fight the wind for you, if you ask me to." He laughed softly before sighing when he noticed her hands were bleeding. "But you have to give yourself breaks and ask for help before you hurt yourself."

"I don't need anyone's help, Erik." She huffed. "Okoye didn't get help when working to become General of the Dora Milaje. She worked hard and denied her weaknesses until she got it."

"Whoever told you that forgot to mention the parts where Okoye was sore and tired and wanted to quit and human." He narrowed his eyes. "And although you're a little different with Bast and shit. You need to remember that you are still human. At the end of the day, we all die, and we all have to go to the ancestral plane." He furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you trying to train so hard that you wake up with the ancestors?"

"No."

"Then you need to take breaks and ask for help. Got it?"

"Got it."

He grabbed two buckets off from each end of the pole before refocusing on her. "I promise, you've trained enough for the day. You need to sit down and smell some flowers or something." He glanced at her. "Something those colonizers do in those cheesy movies you and Shuri make me watch."

Oni snorted before smiling. "Like what? Bake a cake? Paint my nails? Go to the club?"

"The first two sound phenomenal."

"Hypocrite."

"Hey. I'm not the Vessel of Bast."

"And if I wasn't?"

"You still wouldn't be going."

"What!? Why not?"

"I promise, you will not find the love of your life in the club."

"I'm just going there for a good time."

"You won't find a good time there." He joked. "It's just a bunch of sweaty, musty, tipsy, horny, and high people." He wrinkled his nose. "Ever smelled vomit after someone crossed their liquor or urine because someone couldn't make it to the bathroom in time after drinking all night?"

Oni rolled her eyes. "Thank you for that. You somehow made the club sound less fun."

"As your big bro, it's my job to look out for you, annoy you, and kick ass when people try to come for you."

Oni took a deep breath and shook her head. "You say that all the time."

"Because it's true." He grinned. "Now come on. Uncle James was looking for you, and Auntie Cebisa was pressed."

"Pressed? What happened?"

"Dunno." He lied.

"I'm screwed."

"You won't be if we swing home first and get you patched and cleaned up."

Oni began to walk. "Then we better hurry."

He offered a nod before following after her. "I mean, that'll require you to shower quickly and not have a concert singing your little heart out for five hours."

"I do not spend five hours in the shower!"

"You're right. I shoulda said 10."

"It wasn't 10 either! It's always 30 minutes max, 10 minutes minimum!"

"Let me move away-"

"Move away!?"

"Bast will surely strike you down for lying-"

"N'Jadaka I swear-" She took a deep breath as he laughed at her irritation. "I'll be fast." She grumbled.

"How does that song you alway play on your speaker go-?" He arched a brow before he began to sing intentionally off key.  "We be all night- looooooooooOooooovvvEeeee."

"Shuuut uppppp, N'Jadaka!"

"LooooooOoooooooveeEeee."

She attempted a fast, but hard sweeping kick to his ankles and moved when he attempted to kick her back.

They both laughed and ran back home carefully (but intentionally), trying to trip one another.

Erik in this AU:

[chaneajoyyy]

Hi! I really like ur blog and i jus wanted to kno if you knew any bp fics where erik and tchalla grew up together

Aww thannk you!🥰🥰

FICS WHERE T'CHALLA AND ERIK GREW UP TOGETHER

I EVEN MIXED IN HOW CLOSE THEY ARE TOO

wakanda got y'all series (kinda)- @eerythingisshaka

the game of life series, pray for me series- @thekrazykeke

loose ends series (t'challa x reader but erik is in the story and they are close) , tying shoelaces and new faces (erik is included)- @iliketowrite1996

baby jaguar hype series, we built this city series- @terrablaze514

freaky friday- @songficsbyrissi

catching his eye series (mention-they are close) - @wakandanblogger

eat atlanta love letters (mention- they are close)- @another-imaginesblog

drunken disaster/mistake series (mention)- @im5ftbutmythroat66

dadmonger series (cooler than me-mention)- @big-flop-energy

teach me series (mention)- @thehomierobbstark

foul play series (mention-they are close)- @dessianna1

***IF Y'ALL HAVE FICS (I KNOW SOME OF Y'ALL DO) OR KNOW SOMEONE DOES PLEASE HIT ME UP!!!***

[brattywriters-anonymous]

Shoot Your Shot

I found this meme and it screamed Cray Cray Erik so I chose to try my hand at this lol

Erik Stevens x Kesia (pronounced Kee-sa) Mannor (OC)

“Baaabe you know I gotta find a new outfit for my promotion party! I must’ve looked in my closet a million times and I couldn’t find anything!” Kesia was on facetime with her boyfriend of six months, Erik Stevens. When they first got together, she didn’t know much about him, except for he was in the Navy for six years before getting out and whilst enlisted he got his bachelors and master  degrees in Engineering. He kept information about himself simple with Kesia.

“Girl, you look amazing in whatever you wear! Why you gotta go up to that mall? You know that’s where all them thirsty ass niggas be at.” Erik protests. Kesia rolls her eyes, “Aye! What I tell you about rolling your eyes at me?!” Erik’s face goes stoic. It sends a chill down Kesia’s spine as she immediately responds, “Don’t do it.” He nods, “Exactly.” “I’ll only be gone for an hour, I’ll be back at my house and you can see me try it on!” “You got 59 minutes, babygirl. Make em count!”

--

Kesia puts the finishing touches on her makeup as Erik admires her from her bed, “Damn baby, you sure we can’t just celebrate in the crib tonight? I’d make it worth skipping your party...” He saunters over to her and attempts wraps himself around her from the back, she slivers out of his grasp, walking to the kitchen, “Mmm mm! I worked my ass off for this gig, I’m celebrating with my people, and my baaaabyy.. We can do all of that when we’re drunk and back here!” Erik curses under his breath and accepts defeat. Just as he was about to sit back down on Kesia’s bed, her phone rings. It’s an unknown Oakland number. Erik knows everything about Kesia so he knows she doesn’t leave numbers unsaved. He yells towards the kitchen, “Keeee! Who’s calling you from this unknown number?!” 

Kesia freezes in her tracks, “Uhhh.. idk baby. Maybe a telemarketer.” Erik twists his lip, “Hmph.” His “spidey senses” as Kesia loved to put it, were tingling. He always knew when something wasn’t right.. She blames it on his deployments and overall lack of trust in people. He accepts the incoming call.

“Yeee, ay wassup shorty! This Dontay, dude from the mall earlier! Sorry it took me a few to call you, I had a few errands to run. But you free tonight?” Kesia scurries into her room once she hears the stranger’s voice. Erik shakes his head at her and hangs up the phone. “I told you about them thirsty ass niggas at the mall!”

DING! DING!

Her phone lights up as an incoming text pops up from the unsaved contact, Kesia reaches toward Erik for her phone, he raises it above his head and out of her reach, “Nah. You need not worry about this phone tonight. Finish getting dressed.” She pouts as she sits down to put her heels on.

--

Kesia has been entertaining all of her loved ones since she arrived at her promotion party Erik put together for her at a new Reggae club in downtown Oakland called New Karibbean City. Erik has purposefully been apart from her the entire time, yet he has her phone on lock. It doesn’t help that his face unlocks it as well. Kesia has seen enough of him typing away on her phone so she sneaks away from the party as she sees him heading to the restrooms.

“E!” He turns around, “Ke?” He responds in the same tone as her, “Can I have my phone back?” He looks up in the air as if he’s thinking about it, then he hands it to her from his pants pocket. She unlocks it and doesn’t see a trace of the unknown number. Not in the call history or text messages. She raises her eyebrow, “Erik Stevens.. What did you do?” he shrugs, “I didn’t do anything” He embraces his girlfriend as he congratulates her, “I’m proud of you Ke. You really did work hard for the promotion. I’ll see you when you get to the house. The key still under that plant on the porch?” Kesia looks confused, “Uh.. yeah. Where are you going?” Erik lets out a deep, yet scary laugh, “The less you know..” He gives her a long, deep kiss on her red stained lips, then leaves out the back door.

--

Kesia gets out of her Uber, stumbling to her door. She struggles to unlock her door and get in her dark house, thinking her boyfriend is already sleeping. “Good, I don’t gotta get yelled at tonight. I was NOT tryna hear--” “Hear what, princess?” Erik’s brassy voice comes from the far corner of her living room, Kesia jumps, “SHIT ERIK! Why you standing over there in the damn dark?” Erik ignores Kesia’s inquiry, takes a seat on the couch, whilst grabbing the remote control. “Come, sit.” Kesia does as she’s told.

Erik turns on the television then changes the channel to 2.

“Good evening Oakland! This is Noah Clark for your 10PM News on DWOL Channel 2. BREAKING NEWS from the Eastmont Hills area. Covering the story is our reporter, Rebecca Moore, Rebecca? What do ya have?”

There’s a pregnant pause as the reporter listens in for the host’s question, “Yes, I am here on the corner of 79th Avenue and Hillside Street where this home that you see behind me, has been riddled with bullets around 8:45 this evening. Police that arrived on the scene believes that two to three suspects drove past this residence and unloaded shots from tactical T-91 assault rifles. Our Oakland PD SWAT doesn’t even have these in their possession. A witness who seems to live in this home, tells us what happened.” The program transitions to an interview that was recorded slightly earlier to a familiar face, “Yeah, so.. I was waiting on this girl I just met to pull up on me. I was on the porch. Next thing I know, my dog started barking from the back yard. As soon as I turned to see what she was barking at, I hear shots. I duck down for cover! I don’t know who could’ve done this. I don’t got no enemies.” The sound fades out as Rebecca’s voice forms in the background, “Twenty nine year old Dontay Phillips lives in this southeast Oakland home with his bedridden grandmother who was stirred awake by the 57 shots let off by these military grade weapons. Luckily no one was shot in the melee of gunfire, but it sure did shake Phillips up.” Dontay’s voice pans back in, “I’m grateful to the lord above me and my granny still here.”

Kesia watches the tv in awe. She cannot believe that Erik shot up Dontay’s grandmother’s house, She looks up at her conniving boyfriend, “How did yo--” He slips his hand in between her thighs where her phone rested and holds it up, “I told you.. the less you know..” Kesia slaps his arm, “You could’ve killed them!” “Ke, you know if I wanted Dontay dead, he would’ve been dead. I ain’t know he lived in his grandma house. He flexed to m---to you that he lived alone.” “Waiit.. He did what now?” Erik explains that while you were keeping your friends and family company, he was texting Dontay telling him that you were free for the night, plans got canceled. He sent you--Erik his address and told you--him.. that he lives alone. “He’s lucky I just wanted to scare his bitch ass. If I wanted to kill him, him and his granny would’ve been gone..” Erik cuts the TV off then stares at you.. awaiting for a response. “Why are they saying there were multiple assault rifles? You got somebody to do this crazy shit with you?” Erik flashes his bottom fangs as he cheeses at her odd question, “I got three of those bad bitches! I call em Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.” Kesia rolls her eyes at his names for his guns that could’ve killed some guy you had no intentions of even getting to know. “I just switched em out every 20 or so rounds.. each one got a different serial number on the shells.. all of em are impossible to track.”

Kesia stares at him for a spell, then she bursts out laughing. “Okay so you CRAZY CRAZY? Got it!” Erik protests, “Uhh uh. I told you about them thirsty ass niggas. You had the audacity to give that sucka ass nigga yo number.. I had to regulate. Oh, and I blocked his number after I deleted the text thread and his call.” With that, Erik gets up and snatches his shirt off. That makes Kesia gasp with a hint of a moan. Erik’s ears perk up after hearing it, “So you coming to bed baby? Let’s finish celebrating that promotion.” Kesia grabs his hand and leads him to her bedroom while shaking her head at her crazy boyfriend, “Let’s.”

--

Hope you all like it! I know I’m rusty as shit but hopefully requests will roll in and I can get back in the swing of things. 

@chaneajoyyy​ What my favorite librarian think about it?!

[whorderofthepheonix]

Three’s Company: Chapter 3 || Erik Killmonger x Adonis Creed x Black!OC

A/N: Sorry this is so late!!!! I’m currently on vacation but here it is! I made it super long and filled you smut for you guys!!!! ENJOY!

Words: 5.1k (Long AF but you’ll love every word!)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (A LOTTTTTT)

Georgia’s POV

I woke up the next morning, wrapped in Erik’s arms. He slept so peacefully, his lips parted slightly and his chest rising and falling softly. I leaned in and kissed his lips. He stayed asleep so I kissed him again, deeply. I straddled him, not breaking our kiss and grinded on his naked body. A minute later, he was awake kissing me back and fully hard. He pushed himself into me and I moaned loudly. I rode him hard, feeling my orgasm nearing.

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum!” I moaned.

Then my fucking phone started to ring.

“Mother fucker!” I shouted.

“Let it go to voicemail,” Erik whined. I reached over and looked at the caller ID.

“It’s my friend Madison. She never showed up last night. I should take this.”

“Well, I’m not stopping. You not bouta give me blue balls,” he laughed. “I’m gettin’ my nut.” I swiped answer and held the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Okay, first I’m sorry that I was so late to the bar but ya ass wasn’t even there when I arrived!” She whined.

“So you got to the bar?” I asked as Erik sat up with me still straddling his lap.

“Bitch, not only did I get there, I met this fine ass chocolate nigga who took me back to his hotel suite!” She moaned into the receiver. “This nigga blew my fucking back out! Holy shit! I snuck out of the hotel early this morning before he could wake up!” Erik reached down and rubbed my clit making me cry out. “Um… You good?”

“Yeah, I’m just– Fuck! Right there!”

“BITCH ARE YOU GETTING FUCKED RIGHT NOW?!” She laughed.

“Imma call you back!” I hissed throwing my phone on the floor. I pulled Erik’s dreads and rode him harder. “Fuck, Erik! Daddy, Yes!” I came hard and he followed seconds after me. His wet lips traced my neck and he looked me in the eyes.

“Good morning to you too,” he grinned.

We had a lazy Sunday. We ordered take out, closed all the blinds, and watched movies all day… Not to mention all the incredible sex we had. I was so fucking pissed that I had to get up for work on Monday. Erik and I walked out of my brownstone, Monday at 8 am. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“I don’t wanna go to work,” I frowned.

“Nah, none of that. You gotta go secure that bag, Princess,” he advised me.

“When can I see you again? You said you weren’t in town for long,” I reminded him.

“That’s true… I did say that. But who knows?”

“What changed?” A smile crept on my face.

“Maybe someone gave me a reason to stay,” he shrugged. I tiptoed and kissed him deeply.

“I’ll call you tonight?”

“You better.” He gave my ass a slap before hopping in his Uber. I got in my car and drove to work feeling like I was on clouds. I clocked in and sat at my desk, still grinning like an idiot when Madison rushed over, with a mischievous smile.

“Who’s Erik?” She winked. My eyes widened.

“What?” I asked.

“You never hung up the phone yesterday, and I heard y’all fucking!” She cackled. “Who is he?!”

“I’ve told you about Erik… You know? My childhood boyfriend? We were in foster care together, we lost our virginities to each other-”

“BITCH, YOU MEAN 50 SECOND ERIK?!” She laughed. I groaned, covering my face.

“I can assure you, he lasts a lot longer than 50 seconds now,” I winked. We both laughed as someone cleared their throat behind Madison. She moved out of the way and there stood Adonis, holding a stack of papers. I had completely forgotten about Donnie and our… Exploits. Our falling out hadn’t even crossed my mind after I reconnected with Erik.

“Can you make 5 copies of this for me, please?” He asked handing me the paper.

“That’s my cue to leave,” Madison excused herself. “We’ll talk later.” She walked away and I took the papers from Donnie and went over to the machine. He came around the desk to the copier.

“I’ve been texting and calling since yesterday morning,” he said in a hushed voice.

“Sorry. I was… busy,” I smirked, reminiscing about my weekend with Erik.

“Gigi, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” he pleaded. “I had a great time Friday-”

“Are you sure you should be talking to me here? Wouldn’t wanna risk you not getting that promotion.”

“Actually, I got the promotion…”

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do!” I rolled my eyes. “Excuse the fact that I’m not jumping for joy-”

“But not before I told HR about us.” He added. I stopped making copies and looked at him.

“You… You what? You told HR about us?!” I hissed. “Without telling me?!”

“If I’m not mistaken, you got mad that I didn’t say anything, and now that I have, you’re still upset? That’s why I kept trying to call you. If you’d listen to any of the voicemails I left, you would’ve known.”

I took a deep breath.

“Look, Donnie,” I sighed. “I really wish you hadn’t because-” He pressed his lips to mine and I felt a warmness go through my legs, turning them to jelly. “I… Um. I-I-I don’t know if I feel the same way…”

“Well, maybe I can help you remember,” he whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine. I felt my panties dampen.

“I… um, maybe,” I stammered.

“I got my own office now. It’s across from the break room. So if you change ya mind, you can come by on your break… And I’ll show you exactly what this mouth can do,” he bit my earlobe lightly before getting his papers from the copier and retreating from my desk. I was actually sweating. Fuck fuck fuck! What do I do? My heart and vagina started arguing.

Vagina: Adonis went and told HR about you, plus you’ve liked him since FOREVER!

Heart: But Erik’s your one true love, Georgia!

Vagina: Erik isn’t here, now is he?

Heart: Fuck you slut. You’re gonna be the reason that I break again!

Vagina: Um, who tf was thinking about love? I’m tryna get ate so… Let’s go ride his face, G.

Brain: No! Jesus, Georgia! Stop thinking with your cooch and your heart and start thinking with your head! You shouldn’t have any more sexual contact with either of these guys until you figure out what to do! Do I make myself clear?!

Georgia: Okay, fine. Whatever.

*3 Hours later*

“Fuck, Donnie, I’m cumming!” I cried out. I was laid out flat on Adonis’ desk while he knelt on the floor, tongue deep in my pussy. “Yes! FUCK!” I came and he lapped up every drop. He stood up from the floor, unzipped his pants and thrusted into me.

“Shit, baby!” He hissed. “Less than 2 days and you had me craving ya fucking pussy!” He kept me flat on the desk but brought my legs up so that my calves rested on his shoulders as he pounded into me. My legs were already numb from my weekend with Erik and this was making whatever feeling I currently had faded away. “I’m cummin’!”

“Me too,” I managed to gasp. He grabbed me by my throat and pulled me up to meet his lips. Once I came, he grunted and pulled out of me, jerking his dick hard. He let out a groan as he came on my thigh. I grabbed some memos off his desk and wiped off the cum that started to run down my leg. He pulled me close to him, kissing my nose.

“So, I’m forgiven?” He grinned.

“You’re on thin ice,” I corrected him, pulling my skirt back down.

“Oh, word? Thin ice?” He laughed. “What I gotta do to get back on your good side? Fuck you back here?” He asked grabbing my ass. My mind started drifting to the thought of him pounding my ass. He noticed the look on my face and raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?” I nodded slowly biting my lip. “Aight. You ain’t gotta tell me twice.” And I hiked my skirt back up and laid over his desk.

***

I ran over to Madison’s desk after Donnie and I were done… Again.

“I need to talk to you!” I pleaded. She put her hand over her mouth piece.

“I’m with a client, Georgia,” she informed me.

“I just had sex with Donnie in his new office! TWICE!” I hissed. Her eyes popped out her head.

“Mrs. Hernandez, I’m going to have to transfer you call to my associate Adam,” she spoke in her ‘Becky’ voice. She pressed a button. “ADAM! YOU HAVE A CALL!” She shouted to him before pulling me around her desk, and sitting me across from her. “First of all, WHAT?!” I nodded my head in shame, covering my face. “Bitch, what about Erik?”

“That’s why I’m freaking out!” I groaned. “I’ve liked Donnie for years! He’s kind, I met his mother, and he put his ass on the line by telling HR about us. On the other hand, I’ve been in love with Erik since I was 14! I thought that spark went out years ago, but it was like we were never apart, Madison! Teenage Georgia came out and fell in love with him all over again! I don’t know what to do! This is terrible!”

“Um… Bitch. This is like… The OPPOSITE of a problem!” Madison raised an eyebrow. “You have two FOINE ass niggas in ya back pocket and you’re stressing for what?? Who says you have to choose between them?” I looked up at her.

“What? You’re not serious! Tell me you’re not serious!”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack! It’s the 21st century, Gigi! Why do you need to pick one?” Was she seriously making me consider dating them both?… Yes she was.

“Will you sleepover tonight? We can call in sick tomorrow like we used to do!” I squealed.

“Why wait until tomorrow? Cough cough, bitch. I’m sick, now.”

***

We got off of work and headed straight to my house. We bought a bunch of junk food to stock up my refrigerator then turned on a scary movie and started pigging out when my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered without looking.

“So, I was sitting here, minding my own business and I started thinkin’ about ya pussy,” Erik said into the receiver. “And now I’m hard. So, Imma need you to slide through and come take care of this.”

“Hmm, is that all I am to you, Erik?” I smirked. “A sex toy?”

“More like sex bunny,” he laughed. “But nah Georgie, you know I got love for you, Princess. Listen, my cousins are havin’ a small get together and I want you here. I wanna show you off.”

“My friend, Madison is actually over so-”

“Bitch, don’t let me get in the way of you getting ya back blown out!” Madison hissed from next to me.

“Yeah, listen to her!” Erik chimed in. “But seriously, bring her. We got food and drinks. She’ll have a fun time.”

“Did he just say there’ll be drinks?” She whispered to me. I nodded. “The fuck we still doin’ here sober, Gigi?! Let’s be out!”

***

We got dressed and took an Uber to Erik’s hotel. I walked to the front desk.

“Excuse me,” I said to the concierge. “I’m looking for Erik Stevens’ suite. I believe he’s in the penthouse.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t give out guests’ information,” she said, not looking up from the computer.

“Well, he’s in the penthouse so if we can just go up-”

“I’m sorry, our penthouse is checked in by very important guests,” she taunted, finally looking up at me. “I doubt your friend is checked in at this hotel.”

“Listen, Becky,” Madison hissed stepping forward. “Unless you want my foot up ya ass, I suggest you stop with the indirects and start making sense.”

“Really? You’re gonna call me Becky?” The concierge snapped. “You people always want to play the race card! But if I called you Precious, it would be all over the news!”

“The fuck you just say?” Madison yelled.

I texted Erik immediately and let him know that we were downstairs and how disrespectful this bitch was. The elevator opened 2 minutes later and Erik got off, lookin like a whole ass meal. Concierge Cathy bit her lip and unbuttoned her top button. She stood up and flipped her hair. I stood up and kissed him deeply, making sure to keep eye contact with the concierge.

“You good, baby?” He asked holding my waist.

“I’m great,” I smiled.

“Mr. Stevens!” The Concierge interrupted. “I hope everything is well-”

“Uh, Yeah, Fine. Why aren’t you letting my guests upstairs?” He snapped. Her face dropped.

“I-I-I apologize sir!” She stuttered. “I didn’t know they were your guests.”

“Bullshit! We told you twice!” Madison scoffed.

“I’ll let it slide this time, but if you ever disrespect any of my guests again, I’ll have ya fuckin’ job. We clear?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry sir.”

“Wait,” Madison raised her eyebrows. “We just gonna ignored the fact that this bitch called me ‘Precious?’”

“She called you what?!” Erik screeched. He turned to the concierge who looked pale and sickly. “Nah. It’s clipped for you. Turn in ya uniform.”

“Mr. Stevens, please! I’m sorry-”

“You have 15 minutes to get off my cousin’s property,” Erik warned her. “Or imma throw ya ass out myself. Pack ya shit, bitch. Ya done!” She scrambled to the back in tears as I turned to Erik in shock.

“That was so sexy,” I whispered, kissing him hard.

“I just don’t tolerate disrespect,” he reassured me.

“Um, pause, rewind, play. Your cousin owns this hotel?” Madison asked.

“He and my friend do. You must be Madison. I’m Erik,” he extended his hand.

“Trust me, I know. I recognized your voice immediately from when I called Gigi on the phone while you were rearranging her guts,” Madison grinned. I slapped my palm to my forehead as Erik laughed.

“Let’s head upstairs. T’s waiting for me to come back.” Erik ushered us into the elevator. He swiped his key and hit the 30th floor button, taking us all the way to the top. Once the doors opened, Madison and I dropped our jaws.

“‘Small get together’ my ass,” I hissed to Erik as we got off the elevator. There were about 100 people in the penthouse, waiters with white gloves handed out drinks, there was a sushi/seafood bar in one corner, a hot food buffet in the other. “Erik… What is this?”

“My cousins are hosting a few diplomats for this charity event. I wanted you to be my date,” he explained.

“Are those crab legs over there?” Madison gasped. “Girl, you know where I’ll be if you need me.” And she ran over to the seafood bar. Erik snaked his arm around my waist and led me into the party. Terrence and Sam were talking to– I choked on my champagne and pulled Erik back.

“That’s Tony fucking Stark!” I gasped.

“Yeah, I kinda wanna punch that dude in the face,” Erik rolled his eyes. “He’s an asshole.”

“He’s a rich asshole!”I corrected. He leaned into my ear.

“T’s richer,” Erik informed me. We stood next to them and Erik cleared his throat.

“Mr. Stark, you remember my cousin, Erik,” Terrence said.

“Yes, of course. And who is your beautiful guest?” Tony asked.

“This is my girl, Georgia,” Erik introduced me. My body tingled at those words…. That we, of course, needed to discuss. Tony kissed my hand making Erik frown.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark,” I tried not to squeal.

“The pleasure is all mine, Georgia,” he winked. “You are gorgeous, I must say…” I blushed as Erik scowled. “If you ever find yourself in New York, please, give me a call.” Erik was now livid and opened his mouth to say something but Terrence stopped him.

“Erik!” He interjected. “Walk away.”

“But-”

“Hamb ‘umshiye!” He hissed. Erik clenched his teeth, put his hand in the small of my back and walked us away.

“I should’ve punched that nigga in his mouth,” he growled. “The fuck he think he is?! He ain’t shit without that fuckin’ suit. I’ll beat a nigga’s ass!” I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“You called me your girl,” I grinned. “When did this happen?” He bent down to earshot.

“The moment you let me nut in ya pussy,” he whispered. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I invited you over so you could help me deal with an issue…” He pulled me closer to him, pressing his erection against my crotch. I moaned softly as he moved his hands to my ass and we moved to the music playing. “Lemme take you upstairs and pump you full of-”

��GEORGIA!” Madison’s loud ass screeched from behind us. Erik groaned and let go of me. Madison ran over to us and grabbed my arm. “He’s here! Holy fuck, he’s here!”

“Who? Who’s here?” I asked annoyed.

“The nigga from the club!” She gasped. “You know, the nigga who brought me back to his hotel, blew my spine out, and I left before he woke up? HIM! He’s here!” She pointed to the bar to where-

“Martin?!” Erik laughed. “Wait-! Shit! You’re the girl he was tellin us about?”

“Bitch, what do I do? I need to get up out of here! We need to go!” She whined.

“Go? Bitch, we just got here!” I protested. “I ain’t tell you to leave him, hoe! If you wanna go then go.”

“Bitch, fuck you-”

“Madison,” Martin’s voice said from behind us. We turned and looked. “And Georgia. What a nice surprise. It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” I said politely. He looked at Madison.

“I think when I last saw you, you were sneaking out of my room, shoes in one hand, pants in the other,” he smirked.

“Look… I’m sorry about that,” she sighed. “It’s just… A long story.”

“Well… If you want, I have time,” he smiled and offered up his arm. She gave him a smile then they went off.

“Aww, they cute,” I grinned. “I ship them.”

“You what?” Erik asked.

“Um. Nothing. Now… You was sayin’ somethin’ bout pumpin’ me full of something…” I purred. He gripped my ass hard and bent down to kiss me on the lips. However, our moment was cut short by-

“Erik?” Sam walked up.

“On God, if one more person interrupts us-” Erik rolled his eyes.

“Sorry but I thought you might like to know that brother invited your ex,” she explained.

“He did what?!” Erik hissed.

“Yeah… He forgot that things ended badly between you two. I only say this because-”

“Erik!”

We both looked up to see a gorgeous woman and her date standing in front of us.

“O-M-G! I knew that was you!” She tiptoed and hugged him… For too long, might I add.

“Candace! Devin!” Erik raised his eyebrows. “Wow.. It’s been… A minute.”

“It has! I miss you so much!” She squealed. “We have to catch up soon, yeah? Let’s get brunch next Saturday! You look good…” I felt myself getting angry.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat in an over dramatic way.

“Oh, shit. My bad. This is my girl, Georgia,” Erik introduced. The smile on Candace’s face faded a bit but she turned to me.

“Hi! I’m Candace!” She said. “Me and Erik go wayyyy back!”

“We go farther,” I smirked. Erik cleared his throat and looked at Devin.

“So, what’s been goin on wit you man?” Erik asked. Devin rolled his eyes and looked at Candace.

“Look, we just stopped by for a minute. We got other places to be, so…”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s cool. It was great seeing you guys-”

“Uh-huh,” Devin said, taking Candace’s arm and walking out the door. Erik groaned and led my up the spiral staircase to one of the rooms within the penthouse. He closed the door and locked it. I sat on the bed.

“Well… That was awkward,” he half laughed.

“Running into an ex is always awkward,” I stated. “She seemed happy to see you, though. Sayin you looked good, tryna make plans, flirting with you as if I wasn’t standing right there!”

“Who? Candy? Nah, she just-”

“Oh word? She’s Candy, now? Bet,” I folded my arms.

“Georgie, you got it all wrong… Candace isn’t my ex,” he sighed sitting down next to me. “Devin is.” My eyebrows could’ve gotten lost in my hairline by how high they jumped up.

“D-Devin… Is your ex?” I asked. “…So you’re-”

“Bisexual? Yeah, I am,” he nodded. “That’s not a problem, right?”

“Why would that be a problem?”

“Girls are weird about it after they find out,” he shrugged. “Thinkin’ I’m gay n shit. Like, damn! Y’all ain’t think I was gay when I was rearrangin’ ya guts! That’s why I stopped tellin’ people. Me and Devin broke up because he got insecure every time I talked to a girl just because his last nigga left him for some bitch. And he looked okay tonight until I introduced you as my girl… He also had an issue with me being bit…” He took a deep breath then looked over at me. “You sure you’re good? It don’t bother you or nothin’?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” I shook my head. “…I actually think it’s kinda hot…” Erik raised an eyebrow. “Like… Really hot…” I slid my jacket off and straddled him.

“Yeah?” He panted, moving his hand to my waist.

“Yeah,” I bit his lower lip. “I don’t know why but thinkin’ about you with another man… Fuck… It makes me wet…” I led his hand up my dress to my panties. He pulled them aside and slid his finger along my slit, collecting my wetness on his finger.

“Shit…” He hissed.

“So I need you to hurry the fuck up and undress me because a bitch needs to be dicked down, now!”

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice!” He insisted, finding the zipper of my dress and yanking it down. I whispered in Erik’s ear that I wanted to be dirty whore fucked so I got fully naked and just unzipped the front of his pants. He turned me over, face down ass up on the bed, and immediately slammed into me. “Shit baby… This what you need?” I moaned in response and he pulled me up by my hair and grabbed my throat, hard. “Bitch, I asked you a fuckin’ question! This what you need?”

“Yes,” I moaned and he squeezed harder.

“Yes who?”

“Yes, daddy!” I croaked.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought!” He threw me back onto the bed and pounded me relentlessly. Tears were forming in my eyes from the immense pleasure he was giving me. I was cumming within seconds. As my legs shook uncontrollably from the violent orgasm ripping through me, I repeatedly slapped the sheets on the bed trying to let Erik know I needed a break.

“Erik- Daddy, fuck… I can’t! I can’t!” I shook my head, slapping the sheets faster. He slowed down.

“What? You tappin out already? Nah, what happened to allat mouth a few minutes ago?” He laughed. “Uh-uh, Princess, you gettin this dick. You betta take that shit!” And he started back with the hard, deep strokes. “Yeah, take that dick! You takin that dick so well!” Erik was so deep, I could feel him hitting my cervix! At this stage, I was drooling all over myself and clawing at the sheets.

“Daddy! Daddy I’m cumming again!” I cried as I came again, mere seconds from my first one.

“You wanted to be fucked like a dirty whore, right?” Then he bent down to my ear level and didn’t stop thrusting as he whispered, “I’ll show you exactly how I treat dirty fucking whores.” He pulled out of me and flipped me onto my back. He gripped my neck with both hands and brought me down hard on his dick. “Open that fucking mouth!” He squeezed my cheeks together so that my mouth was ajar and spit in it. “Fucking swallow it.” I swallowed and stuck out my tongue to prove it was gone. Erik presses his forehead to mine and panted into my mouth. “I’m gonna cum… Fuck!” He grabbed me roughly by the throat and squeezed as he came inside of me. I loved the feeling of him filling me up. He kissed me all over my face before rolling off of me. He pulled me closer to him and nuzzled my ear. “I needa be honest with you, Georgia…” I looked up at him.

“What is it?” I asked. He caressed my face and stared into my eyes.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed,” he admitted. “As soon as I saw you in that bar on Saturday, I knew… I still love you.” My heart fluttered.

“I still love you too,” I whispered before kissing him. Our kissing got deeper until Erik pulled me on top of him.

“Shit, you got me hard again,” he moaned. “But we should probably get outta here. This is actually T’s room.”

Adonis’ POV

I grabbed the donuts from the back of my car and walked up the stairs to Georgia’s brownstone. I rang the doorbell and waited… And waited… And waited… I put the donuts down and pulled out my phone, dialing her number.

“Hello?” She answered sleepily.

“Hey, babygirl,” I smiled. “I got us some breakfast and I’ve been downstairs ringing ya bell for almost 10 minutes. Sleepin soundly without me?” Then she gasped.

“Actually I’m not home,” she explained. “Me and Madison went out last night and we ended up at her place instead.”

“Oh, I said disappointed. “Aight no problem. Can I see you later?” Before she could answer, I heard the muffled of another person’s voice… was she with another nigga?

“Um, can I let you know? I was planning on going up to Anaheim to see my aunt. It’s been a while since I talked to her…”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Great. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Aight. I miss y-” And the phone cut out…Great.

***

After leaving Georgia’s apartment and giving the box of donuts to some homeless people, I headed to the gym in the middle of Hollywood.

“Ayyy, wassup, D?” One of the locals greeted me as I walked in.

“What’s good?” I dabbed him up before walking to my usual area. I began my warmups when I noticed from the corner of my eye a guy I’ve never seen in the gym before, lifting weights in the corner. What made him stand out was the unusual scarring across his torso and back, ending at his wrists. His AirPods were in and he was in his own world, so I shook the thought out of my head and began my sets.

***

Drinking after working out is usually a bad idea but I had somehow convinced myself that if I went out later that night, it wouldn’t be an issue. I looked down at my phone to see if I had a response- nope. Nothing. Georgia hadn’t returned any of my texts or calls today. Could she still be mad about the work thing? I fucked her in the ass, what more could she want-

“Yo,” a voice said from beside me. I looked up to see the guy from the gym earlier sitting next to me. “You were at Monty’s earlier right? I saw you boxing. You’re good, man.”

“Respect,” I raised my beer bottle to him. “Yeah I saw you too. I’m Donnie.”

“Erik,” he shook my hand. “You drinking out ya sorrows or somethin?” I looked at the empty bottles in front of me.

“Nah… I mean. Fuck… it’s my girl- or I guess, a girl since we ain’t discuss our relationship status- she’s been dubbin me all day,” I shook my head.

“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that… You should go to her crib and see what’s up.”

“That’s the thing, I did that this morning and she wasn’t even home! Then I heard voices of someone else in the background and… I don’t know… Shit. I like this girl so fucking much… I just hope I ain’t do nothing to fuck it up.”

“Look I’m the last person anyone should be taking advice from but if you like her to the point where ya drinking alone at a bar, you should let her know that. Girls love that type of shit. Makes them wet as hell. But you gotta mean it, or else it’s a lie, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t lie,” he told me. Everything was sinking in.

“You right… I’m gonna go over there and-”

“No you’re not,” he interrupted me. “First of all nigga, you’re drunk and I saw you drive here which means you’re not driving anywhere. Second, you said she wasn’t home. So you showing up to her crib drunk while she ain’t home is a recipe for fucking disaster.” I groaned and laid my head on the table.

That’s when my phone vibrated. I sat up and checked it immediately.

Gigi❤️: Hey sorry I’ve been dodging you.

Gigi❤️: Can you come over?

I jumped up from my stool.

“She texted me! She wants me to come over! Shitting fuck! I can’t drive! Wait I can call an Uber!” I sent Gigi a reply telling her I’d be there soon and called an Uber to her place. Erik was getting up to leave.

“Yeah my girl just asked me to slide through so imma bounce,” he said, putting on his jacket. “But yo, good luck.”

“Thanks, yo, lemme pay for your drink, man. On me.” I gave my card to the bartender and Erik nodded.

“Thanks man, I’ll catch you around.”

“Word.” Once I was in my Uber on my way to Georgia’s my nerves were out of control. No other girl has ever made me feel like this before… The car had barely stopped as we pulled up to her crib. Shitshitshitshitshit! You got this. Just tell her how you feel. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

“I’ll get it!” A male’s voice called out. What the fuck? The door was opening when I heard Georgia’s voice.

“No, E! I’ll…” She shouted as the door opened fully. “Get it…” Erik was standing in the doorway as Georgia cowarded behind him.

“What the fuck?” Me and Erik said together. Then we both looked at Georgia.

“This is why I wanted you guys to come over…” she whispered. “We all need to talk.”

~~~

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! 200+ Notes for Ch.4! xoxo

Taglist: Tag List: @killmongersgurl @killmongerdispussy @blackpinup22 @afroricanprincess94 @duhbar1975 @wanderlustkilam @sweetpeachjones @bartierbakarimobisson @beautifulqueenflaws @blackchunkyqueen @mypinkice @queentarsha @shyblackgurl @abxke @ceeverse @bigdaddythraxxx @karma328 @quietstorm-73 @amirra88 @tiava143@builtalongthewayside @itsjazziebaby @10lbsatatime  @aanairb  @theogbadbitch @terrablaze514 @determinednot2fall @yoyolovesbucky @girlsneedlovingfanfics @hidden-treasures21 @madbadsiren @alexundefined  (TAG LIST IS OPEN!)

[chaneajoyyy]

Thoughts? I’d read it !

ion know…. i kinda wanna write a medical drama themed about Erik… thoughts please?

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Pot Liquor" Afropunk!Erik Killmonger

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Black Plus-Sized OC

Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Angst, Romance, Drug Use, Bisexual Characters, Threesomes, Foursomes, Queer Characters, Cursing.

Summary:

Three women. One man.

Erik “Killmonger” Stevens is the guitar player for a female dominated Black alternative rock band fronted by the powerful larger-than-life lead singer, Oya Mason. About to perform in front of their largest audience ever on one of the most influential stages in the music world, Erik and Oya have to face band in-fighting, jealousy, drugs, sex, and the love of rock-and-roll.

Can they keep it together before their big night?

Word count: 14, 890

A..N.: Bringing this back for @blvcksundays !

"I said if I'm in luck I just might get picked up I said I'm fishin' trick and you can call it what you want then I said I'm wigglin' my fanny I want you dancing I'm a doin' it doin' it This is my night out

So all you lady haters don't be cruel to me Don't you crush my velvet don't you ruffle my feathers neither I said I'm crazy I'm Wild I said I'm nasty Say you will for a little while Say you will Say you will"

Betty Davis –"If I'm In Luck I Might Get Picked Up"

Begin at the beginning...

Eighteen-year-old Oya Mason stood in the middle of the stage of the National Poetry Slam Finals in Oakland, California ready to recite a three-minute free verse that took her two weeks to dream of and three days to write. It wasn't her best poem, but it was the most potent that she had ever written and would be reciting for the first time in public. She hated America and everything it stood for and the words swimming in her brain and marinating in cerebral spinal fluid were ready to erupt on stage.

Thick black leggings covered her dimply thick thighs that rubbed tightly together and the black Buckethead baseball t-shirt she had on accentuated her heavy breasts and generous stomach. Her toes were jammed into brand new black chucks and her nose septum piercing was a shiny silver like the frosted silver tips of her frohawk locs. She was a big beautiful Black woman with an even bigger first name to live up to. Her parents plucked the name from a book they had in their home. "Oya: In Praise of An African Goddess."

"We knew that if we had a little girl, we were going to name you that," her father, Teigen Mason, had told her.

Her Mama, Gia, squeezed out a big fat dark brown loud crying baby that grew up into a big beautiful teenager that could no longer be simply called full-figured or extra thick. No, those words were too small for her. She was a Goddess and a Goddess took up all the space she wanted. On that stage, Oya, the Goddess of the Hurricane winds, the warrior, and the protector of the dead looked out upon an eager audience of poetry spectators waiting for her to do linguistic tricks and over-enunciated theatrical emoting with her culled words.

Well...that didn't happen.

Oya Mason stood there with her Goddess frame and shrieked out every single word she had written in the depths of her gray matter and birthed her first metal song live onstage. The poem-turned-rage-clarion call was titled "To Sleep With Anger", an ode to the movie that was filmed in her grandparent's house in South Los Angeles way before she was born. She found the old Danny Glover movie online and watched it over and over until she fell asleep and dreamed of the actors walking in her family's kitchen, living room, bedrooms, and backyard, and the words to the poem came to her in the underworld of slumber and there was a burning there. A heated twisting of past and present that had her worried about her future as a big boisterous girl with a runaway mouth making it in society where Black women were expected to be quiet mules for the world.

Not her.

Oya dreamed about that old house for two weeks waking up enraged every morning and thought about what the movie meant and pondered why she was already hating a world that she was barely stepping into. It had to be ancestral rage. A fiery anger handed down like generational trauma and the unyielding hair texture on her head.

A three-day heat of writing on yellow legal pads and listening to Bad Brains and Mother's Finest while trippin' on shrooms in her bedroom while her parents were away, produced a piece of work that she could get down with.

Other poems in her extensive repertoire allowed her to advance in poetry slam rounds in local competitions and by the time she was on the National level, she was tired of the scene. The performative aspect of it seemed disingenuous. Many of the older poets she watched seemed to be interested in shocking people instead of sharing real evocative language that opened the heart and mind.

That was probably why Oya screamed her words and left the stage switching her meaty hips and not caring about her scores or if she won.

She did win that year.

The individual poet category. At her young age.

The previous winner, another full-figured Black woman with thick braids, full lips, and a body of work so blistering that she was named the Poet Laureate of her city approached her backstage.

"You don't belong here," the woman said.

Oya blinked. The fuck?

A sly smile creased the woman's glossy lips as she pointed at Oya with a commanding right index finger.

"You belong out there doing what you just did. This is too small for you," the former champion said.

Oya Mason bid adieu to poetry slams.

She returned to Los Angeles from Oakland and started a part-time job at Amoeba Records on Hollywood Boulevard. While selling records and sorting vinyl and CD bins, she met her best friend, Deidre who rocked short hair and a smooth undercut, Oya fell in love with Deidre's whole vibe instantly and they fell into creating their first band together.

To Sleep With Anger.

Oya named them that. Deidre played electric guitar just like Oya did and after work and university classes at USC, they shredded in Deidre's parent's garage in a sizeable house at the bottom of Baldwin Hills. The Black Beverly Hills. The house sat on forty-eighth and Crenshaw, so the upwardly mobile Black folks couldn't get too far away from the bustle of working class and working-poor negroes down the street. Oya's parents couldn't handle two loud Black metal chicks screaming about capitalism, death, and societal destruction right next door to the neighborhood church at their small home near Leimert Park. Deidre's house was ground zero for their start as a unit.

School. Work. Shredding.

That was life for three years until Oya had written a ton of songs that were good enough to put together a fuller and more serious band. They had both become better axe players. She and Deidre posted up an ad for a drummer and bass player at the Amoeba Community board and online, and that was how they met Shameika, a mean pocket queen originally from Long Beach who went to UCLA.

Deidre and Oya had to set aside their USC rivalry because Shameika was nasty on the skins. Their bass player, Jody, was discovered by accident when she came into Amoeba asking for Me'Shell N'degeocello vinyl. Anyone into Me'Shell had to be hip, and Oya asked the lithe light-brown beauty if she were a musician. The stars lined up. She was their missing link.

They were complete and of one accord by the time they began playing publicly at gigs around L.A. and making road trips to San Diego and also local music festivals. Shameika handled their webpage, Deidre handled booking, and Oya fell in love with Jody. Then broke up with her. Then got back together. Then broke up in one final blow-out that thankfully didn't tank the band. It did become a little awkward when Jody and Shameika became a couple, but Oya grew past it. They were picking up traction as a band. Getting better paid gigs. She was writing better songs. Blending genres. Learning to control her vocals better with a private coach. It took them awhile to be taken seriously as a band. People expected them to be an R & B singing quartet and did double takes when they walked into venues with their gear. They were tested a lot by the mainly white male audiences. Lots of booing at shows and sometimes beer bottles were thrown at them onstage. Oya was often brutally called names because of her size. She didn't know how many times she had climbed onstage to bring the noise with her girls, and there was laughter tossed her way.

"Look at this big bitch!" was a common jab along with a few expletives.

But the music shut them up. They could play fucking circles around many of the bands, even the headliners.

"It's here!" Deidre shrieked as they opened boxes for new stock.

Oya stared at the twelve-inch vinyl of a song she was hearing about on every streaming platform and alternative music chatroom. She knew the group.

Slippage.

An alternative band that she used to fuck with heavily until they started going a little too commercial and polished for her tastes. Oya did feel excitement about new music from them. She hoped they were returning to their roots of hard driving sounds and not the softened new-branding that recent major-label signed groups were morphing toward. Deidre was practically salivating, her copper brown skin glowing and matching the copper brown of her short fade.

"This dude right here...I swear, I would buss it wide open if he walked in here right now. You think the scars are real? I heard they weren't," Deidre said.

Oya picked up the album and stared at the four guys on the cover. One Mexican with long glossy raven hair. Two white guys with stringy pony tails and tats on their faces and arms. And the Black guy.

Erik Killmonger.

Gold grills. Perfect locs. Scars.

His upper body was covered in small shiny lumps of skin.

"That looks real," Oya said.

"That's hardcore. I get the tats and piercings...I mean I have that shit, but...cutting your skin like that. All over. You think he has scars on his dick?"

Oya burst out laughing.

"Only you would ask that!"

"That would be kinda sexy," Deidra whispered admiring the man's shirtless body as he held his guitar.

Deidra stroked the cover.

"He's so rude for biting his lips like that. Letting us see all that gold in his mouth," she quipped.

They stocked the store with all the new vinyl before heading to the registers to help customers purchase music. When they had a break, the assistant manager let them listen to the new Slippage single. Deidre loved it, but Oya turned her nose up at it. Killmonger sounded dope as always, but the song itself was weak. Defanged.

"We should make something like this," Deidre said bobbing her head and air playing guitar with her nimble fingers pretending to be Killmonger.

"I think the fuck not."

"This is good!"

"No it's not. It's just loud and...vanilla."

"You're buggin'. This is the best thing they've put out."

Oya stood behind the counter and watched Deidra, the assistant manager, and several customers nod their heads and give kudos to Slippage.

"Tasteless," Oya muttered as she grabbed a stack of country CDs from a young woman and began ringing up her purchases.

The music blared from their store speakers and Oya couldn't help but think about Killmonger's grill and the scars that went up and down his muscled arms, wide chest, and down his chiseled stomach...

Begin at the beginning one 'mo' 'gin...

They knew they had something special when Amoeba allowed them to play in their in-store mini-concerts when another group failed to show up because of a delayed flight from Phoenix. The four of them wore tattered jean skirts with leggings and old vintage bullet bras they found at a thrift store in Venice Beach. Oya had to add a bra extender for hers. Thick extra-large safety pins prevented the weak hooks from bending across her back and gave the right touch to the stylized look. She kept a t-shirt handy in case a titty or two broke free and slapped a customer unexpectedly, which would've been the most punk thing ever, but luckily that old 1950's find held on as she sweated her way through raw, screeching vocals that caught her boss by surprise. Hamp was forced into a bind with a store full of patrons waiting to see Desert Troll City, so he gave in when Oya said they had equipment in their cars ready to plug in and rock out. Instead of ambient new vanguard trip music, the customers were treated to ear-splitting altie sounds that tip-toed between experimental and...what? Oya and her bandmates hadn't quite found a true name for their sound, but the crowd there loved it. The music attracted spectators from off the street and it became their first viral performance online.

Hamp started acting like their musical godfather, allowing them to sell their CDs at the counter on consignment as part of their local indie musician sales program. It was a boost to their confidence watching people buy their homemade EP. Gigs followed. The new visibility started their small music festival appearances. Their biggest live performance before their second full album came out was the Joshua Tree Music Festival. The drive to the desert had been joyous. They performed before the closing night's headliner and killed it. They were so good that the headliners gave them a shoutout during their set making Oya feel like a Queen.

And like any great rock-and-roll story, it was where the first rift in the band appeared. All because Deidre felt the need to insert an unnecessary guitar adlib that threw Oya off their closing number. The audience, blitzed out on 'shrooms, weed, liquor, pills, and whatever choice narcotics they brought for fun, became mesmerized by Deidre doing Jimi Hendrix tricks on her axe. Oya could concede that Sis was in her bag at that moment, but they had always stayed in tune with one another by using eye contact and onstage whispers to let each other know if they were going to go off. Sometimes it was just a well-placed guttural sound from Oya's throat to clue the others in, or Deidre would swing her guitar a certain way with a slight chord change. J Tree organizers had the performers on a strict time allotment, and Oya knew they had to finish with a new song in just the right intro...but Deidre fucked it up by trying to upstage Oya with the ole razzle dazzle. The normal thunder growl that would erupt from Oya's diaphragm kicking in "Acid Babe Blues" was usurped by some random guitar wah wah licks from Deidre's foot pedal muting her guitar.

Oya felt the "Acid Babe Blues" lyrics dry up in her throat as her eyes cut to Deidre's. Sister girl was oozing with charismatic energy and the people ate it up. Rightfully so. Oya stood down for twenty seconds before she turned to Jody on bass with aPlease gather this bitch uplook.

Jody slapped her bass and snapped Deidre from her moment. Time ran short, so Oya had to improvise and just gave an improper snippet of the new song before their time ran out. That meant Deidre had to sing the bridge to start the song, and Oya had to fake her way into the second verse. The fierce tone she gave thrilled the music lovers, but Oya was full of piss and vinegar. "Acid Babe Blues" was their lead single from the new joint, and the audience didn't even hear the true beginning.

As the crowd switched their positions to watch the main stage for the closing act, Oya and the others packed up their gear. Her hackles were up.

"What the fuck were you doing?!" Oya snapped.

"Vibin'," Deidre said.

"You stole valuable time for 'Acid'."

"They heard you scream when you first started twenty-five minutes ago. It still sounded great without a closing field holler—"

"That's not the point, Deidre," Shameika interjected as she shoved her drumsticks into a case, "it threw us all off."

"Ohmigod, we murdered this gig. It's good to shake it up sometimes.Ididn't hear a mess up—"

"It would've been nice to know what you were going to do. I'm the lead singer. I wrote that song. We all agreed that 'Acid Babe Blues' was to bring it all home and we practiced the hell out of it and you fucked it up!" Oya said,

"They loved us. That's all that matters."

Deidre did her usual lip pout when she was done discussing anything.

"I know you're feeling yourself right now, but this is becoming a habit with you," Oya barked helping Shameika break down the rest of her drum kit.

"So I can't get no shine too?"

"We all get shine—"

"Only when you let us. Don't forget, I write a lot of the songs too. I'm on the cover of the EP too. So is Jody and Shameika—"

"Are you failing to understand what the problem is? Am I trippin'? I'm not talking about getting shine, I'm talking about you disrupting and switching up how we do things mid-performance without a cue or an okay from the rest of us."

Deidre pressed her lips tight. An irritated exhale followed with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I was carried away by the energy of the crowd. I wanted to jam for a minute..."

Deidre clutched her guitar pedal to her chest.

"I wanted to be that bitch...okay? I mean, look at us. We look amazing in these little black latex dresses! We're serving hot and sexy and being all sweaty and nasty up here. Tell me you didn't feel that rush?"

"We felt it, but...teamwork," Shameika said with her soft-spoken voice.

"I'm tired," Jody said holding her bass case.

They were assisted by some J Tree staff as they loaded up their gear into Deidre's S.U.V, and Oya's Jeep Cherokee.

"Are we staying to watch the closer or what?" Shameika asked.

Jody stayed in Deidre's S.U.V. to sleep, and the rest of them sauntered back in their laced-up pit-stomping boots to watch Boredroom, a band on the brink, sing out To Sleep With Anger's praises. Deidre turned her head and smirked at Oya as the lead singer of Boredroom pointed to all their latex-wearing greatness and shouted them out on the mic.

"See?" Deidre said, "We are the shit."

"It's about the music, Deidre, not just showing off," Oya grumbled.

Oya new instinctively that Deidre wanted to be the main shit. She wrenched her eyes away from her friend and tried to engage with the rest of the festival, but there was a sour taste in her mouth. That taste would grow and root deep. Then it would spread, choking them all.

Begin at his beginning...

Oya knew how to hustle a job.

When Amoeba became less flexible for gigs, she took a job at KCRW assisting the COO. On Saturday nights she worked the cashier booth for a trashy West Hollywood dance club to supplement her income.

Those were rough days for To Sleep With Anger ever since Deidre left for a high-profile band's line-up switch the year before. It was right after a showcase with an East Coast label. They were all broke, still hungry to make their own music, and lucked out when an A & R rep from Sony Music Group caught their live show at the Austin Music Festival.

Hair cut into a short bob that she slicked up to look like a match flame, dramatic make-up, and low-cut tight dresses with oversized coats that doubled as capes became a signature look for Oya. Her shoe game grew sick, with custom thigh-high boots, and walking canes to match her seductive stroll onstage. Their band logo was a black flame with red highlights. Her signature do always matched the logo onstage, and it became an instant hook with their audience. Sophisticated Punk. Seductive Alternative. Oya leaned into the sensual side and the other women found their looks too. Deidre became pure femme fatale, Jody, the edgy stud, and Shameika was their darling Goth ingénue.

Oya's lush body became the center of think pieces in the music scene and she welcomed the coverage and even took the hits with some women musicians who questioned the overt sexuality of the band. Were they sex kittens, or hard rockers? Cock teases for a gimmicky come up? A flash in the pan for some future music history footnote? She ignored them and the other women did too. Her favorite moments were to stroll onstage after Jody plucked the bass like a beast sporting her flamboyant capes and big hats and do a twirl wielding her cane before dropping the cape to the floor revealing couture that accentuated breasts, flared hips, thick thighs, and a rump to die for. The more popular they became the more she found herself amazed at how people projected onto her. She rarely showed any explicit skin other than the tops of her breasts with dep cleavage, but the audacity of her being her bold self with tight clothing was a problem for so many people. But a revelation to others.

Especially men.

Often teased for not having a body that conformed to whatever was in fashion at the moment, that quickly changed when she sang. Her voice shifted the critiques. People had to listen to the music because it was fucking divine. Oya's talent made people notice she had a face. A gorgeous one. And that face was attached to a stunning big body. Online chatter brought out the lovers of her plus-size physique, especially when she catwalked up and down a stage and pointed her cane at the audience, then stuck it in front of her as she wiggled down and back up from the floor with it. There was a shift in the air. The thirst for her was just as great as her other bandmates.

They were on the cusp of reaching greatness and Oya was going damn near bankrupt funding her on stage style to create her visual greatness. They all were.

The Sony Rep schmoozed them and set up the showcase for the "Yes Men". Oya could taste victory, money, fame, freedom...

The showcase was a disaster.

Not because Oya didn't incinerate the Sony office with her talent or the girls didn't bring it with their playing. The Yes Men wanted Deidre to front the band and insisted on smoothing out their rough sound. Less edge. More mainstream puff rock. Less 90s Trent Reznor-esque proto Black Girl Rock/Metal and more old school Gwen Stefani cutesy kitsch.

Oya put her foot down. Get set aside because they found Deidre the more marketable? She didn't have the voice. She didn't have the vocal chops to strike people down from the stage like Oya did every time they performed. To Sleep With Anger laid out the roots of Betty Davis, Bad Brains, A Band Called Death, tastefully gave homage to Tina Bell, Mother's Finest, plus a smidgeon of early Prince with the heavy guitar opening of "Bambi" that Oya played herself, and all they could mention was Nine Inch Nails and No Doubt?

They weren't signed.

Deidre left them.

Six months later Deidre was on tour and became a media sensation by joining Ark Ten. They were top tier. Grammy winners. Global fanbase. English darlings credited with reviving the UK rock scene. Deidre joined them right when they went in to record a second studio album. An all-male band that fired their lead guitarist, Ark Ten recruited Deidre to become the new focal point of hyped publicity for the group's sophomore outing. She looked like a High Rock Glam Priestess on their magazine photo spreads. Their album went triple platinum within months as Oya took credit cards and damp dollar bills at a cashier's booth while listening to her ex-bandmate's overdone guitar flourishes in songs at her crappy club job.

Shameika and Jody moved in with her in an upstairs apartment near Slauson. They turned the small dining room into a second bedroom and pooled their resources to perform where they could. Oya wrote new songs and just as Deidre predicted, Shameika and Jody followed her lead without pushback.

After a long day in Santa Monica, Oya walked into their kitchen and made an announcement.

"We're going to audition a new guitar player. We need a fourth member. I'm better at singing and not playing at the same time."

Jody fried up some sliced potatoes and onions at the stove. Shameika washed dishes.

"Another woman?" Shameika asked.

"Black?" Jody added.

"Let's just put the call out and see who shows up. I have a hook up for a try-out space next week. There's a music studio moving to another location in Santa Monica. KCRW used it for live shows and one of my co-workers has access to it for a Saturday before they leave. We can sneak in and use it for four hours. Six to ten at night."

"But you're great on guitar," Shameika lamented.

"I can't do all my theatrics if I'm playing the whole time too. It's too difficult. Plus, it's part of our brand. Jody?"

Jody set down the spatula in her hand and turned down the fire under the food.

"I want another Black woman," Jody said.

"But if we can't find one?"

"Hold another audition?" Shameika suggested.

"In time for Afropunk?"

"We can do a stripped-down show. Jeans, tees, and chucks."

Oya put hands on her hips and closed her eyes.

"No, we go full out. We need this moment more than ever. We have to look ready-made."

Shameika stopped stacking plates in the drainer.

"You don't think we'll ever make it big, huh?" "It's not just making it big...it's our music... we could change the game. I'm tired of us struggling and trying to be creative. I'm tired of us eating potatoes and spaghetti all the time."

"We'll make it," Shameika said.

"I'm tired,"

Oya let her arms drop to her sides. Jody pulled her in for a hug and Oya buried her face in the woman's neck and wept.

"I'm tired of seeing her out there...winning," Oya huffed.

"We'll do the audition. We'll make it work," Jody said.

Her fingers trailed up Oya's face and wiped away her smeared eye make-up. Shameika joined them and threw her arms around Oya's waist.

"Look at me blubbering like some loser. We're not losers."

"No, we're not," Jody said.

Her lips touched Oya's cheek and the loving pats from Shameika made her feel tons better. She broke away from the two of them.

"Just a tiny woe-is-me moment and now we'll get this new axe. Right?"

Jody and Shameika nodded sharing gentle smiles with her.

"We're too talented," Oya said taking up the spatula and turning over the potatoes for Jody.

She kept that mantra up as they sat inside the borrowed music studio a week later watching woman after woman jam with them. Oya watched Jody's weary face as she cradled her bass and studied a new guitar player plug in and prepare to audition. Shameika twirled one of her drumsticks in her left hand and gave Oya an encouraging wink, but the sentiment didn't help. After two hours, they hadn't found one musician who felt right. Benji, Oya's co-worker, sat next to her on plush red couch. There was a small line of women taking up the sidewalk outside waiting to come in and it gave Oya a headache.

"Give me a minute," Oya said, "I have to pee."

In the restroom, she splashed water on her face to hide the tears that threatened to drop.

"Please..." she whispered as she rinsed her hands and dried them.

Oya stared at her face in the mirror.

"Go back out there with your game face. Our new guitarist is coming. She is going to walk in and wow everybody. The band will be whole once more. We'll go to Atlanta and the record deal will come. We'll bring the heat. We'll bring the bodacious Blackness. Deidre won't be the only success story."

Oya walked back into the studio and nearly shit in her cargo pants.

Benji stood chopping it up with Erik Killmonger.

Killmonger wore dark shades, but Oya recognized the braided locs, the scars on his skin shown by his sleeveless white t-shirt, and the gold slugs in his mouth. He was bigger in person than what she imagined. Her eyes glanced over to Jody and Shameika and they were equally starstruck along with the white woman with tattered dreads waiting to audition.

"Oya, this is my old buddy, Killmonger. Killmonger, Oya. Lead singer—"

Oya did a one-eighty and hot-footed back to the restroom. She pressed her back against the door. Her breath sped up and she couldn't stop hyperventilating. Leaning forward to lower her head to her knees, she squinted her eyes and blew out long streams of air.

"Fuck."

Clenching her fists, Oya patted her hands up her thighs until she stood upright.

"Fuck."

She went back out to the studio area and threw her shoulders back.

"I thought I left the water running in the sink," she lied.

Killmonger sat on the couch next to Benji. Oya avoided contact to help keep her voice steady and non-chalant.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure you know who Killmonger plays for—"

"Played for," Killmonger corrected.

Oya felt a tickle in her stomach. His scratchy voice had a rasp to it like he'd been smoking before he came in. He probably toked a good expensive strain that rich people smoked. They always had memes of him up every Four Twenty with kush sitting on his guitar. The shades were off and his bright brown eyes planted themselves on her face.

Played for?

"You're not with Slippage anymore?" the white woman asked.

Nosey.

Killmonger's eyes cut to her and the woman shrank into her guitar.

"How 'bout you play and mind ya business," he said.

Oya took her seat and stared at Jody. She mouthed the words "Play" to her homie, and Jody slid her index and middle finger down the neck of the bass to begin "Palo Alto", a song they liked using to test the guitarists. It had several difficult chord progressions and they wouldn't have to waste time seeing if a person could really play or not. The woman, Heather, got halfway through the song before they knew she wouldn't cut it. Deidre and Oya could slide through the song like butter. Even Jody could fake her way through it when she played around with Oya's guitar.

They allowed Heather to play another tune and jam for a minute before Oya took to the mic and sang a bit with the entire ensemble. They sent her away after asking a few personal questions about her background. When she left, Oya ran her hand over her hair. Jody adjusted the volume knob on her bass and Shameika tapped her sticks lightly on her ride cymbal. No words were needed to veto Heather. A statuesque Black woman came in next with a bright smile and high energy, and they all perked up, but she wasn't able to improvise all that well as they jammed together. Another no. They had an hour left and only two candidates had viable potential from the fifteen women they saw from the first three rounds. Oya was happy she pre-screened so many musicians online ahead of time. They were efficient and knew what they were looking for. The only problem was, no one fit.

They had a fifteen-minute break slotted before the last three candidates scheduled would come in. Benji gave Oya a supportive grin.

"Don't throw in the towel yet, Oya," he said shaking his ginger curls.

Killmonger stood up and walked over to their set up. He moved like king. She tamped down on the squeal in her throat fighting to come out.

"I can't believe Killmonger is in the same room with us!" Shameika blurted.

Thank God. Someone finally said it out loud. Jody and Oya laughed with relief.

"He ain't nobody," Benji said punching Killmonger in the arm.

"How do you know each other?" Oya asked keeping her eyes off of Killmonger.

"Before he was a big head star, Killmonger used to nag me to play his shit on KCRW years ago. We used to sweep up this place together as interns."

Killmonger glanced around.

"The place is a little different from when I worked here. Didn't last long though."

"Slippage?" Oya asked.

Dark orbs captured her gaze.

"Yeah."

"But you said something about not being with them earlier."

Benji stepped in.

"News is just now getting out," Benji said hitching his shoulders.

"Can I?" Killmonger asked pointing to Oya's guitar.

She stepped away from it and he lifted it off of the stand near her and draped the strap around his body hooking it to the instrument after adjusting the leather. It only took him two seconds to launch into "Acid Babe Blues" and Shameika brought in the drums automatically. Jody slapped her bass and they played for two minutes before Oya felt brave enough to jump in and sing.

Killmonger knew their song. By heart.

He stood in the middle of the recording studio slaying Oya's electric guitar and ripped into a blistering riff that made her jump and lose her shit in front of her desperate band.

"Give it to me from the top!" he yelled.

His fingers thrummed out the beginning again, and Oya gave a Black rebel yell,

"Show me someone not full of herself, and I'll show you a hungry person!"*

They tore through the song with Killmonger's lips peeled back to show glints of gold as he howled encouragement with whoops and loud shouts to them.

"C'mon Jody, dig into that bottom!" he called out.

Jody let her thumb do the most as Oya felt the vibration of Shameika sitting in her pocket on the drums from behind as she followed Jody's dip into a groove that Killmonger supported with tasteful licks from his fingers. They jammed for twenty minutes until Oya noticed their next band candidate standing wide-eyed and mouth agape staring at Killmonger.

"Sorry," Killmonger said unhooking himself from Oya's guitar.

They finished seeing the last three women and sat down on the floor together in a circle to discuss what they liked and didn't like. There were three women they agreed to call back for another try out just to be sure.

"We have to lock one in fast. Get them set with our music and stage cues," Oya said picking at her nails.

"When's your next performance?" Killmonger asked.

The three women glanced over at him on the couch. Benji had his arms folded watching them too.

"End of the month. Atlanta," Oya said.

"Afropunk?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Let me play for you."

Oya thought her lungs would implode in her chest right behind her heart.

"I'm not doing anything. I quit Slippage. I like your sound. Benji says you want more festival exposure. If I play with you, you'll get that."

"That would be a boss move...but..." Oya's brain grew dizzy.

"But what?"

"People would want you. Not us," Jody said.

"Then hire me. Let me join the band."

Benji chuckled but then he shut up when he realized Killmonger wasn't joking.

"Why?" Oya asked.

"I like your sound. Your style. I quit Slippage because it's tired. I outgrew it. Y'all got something fresh...different. Sticks to my ribs."

"People would just think it's your band," Oya said.

"How's that?"

"Your famous. You'd overshadow us."

"Did I overshadow Slippage?"

"You were Slippage," Jody mumbled under her breath.

Oya reached over and tugged on one of Jody's long straight backs. Jody slapped Oya's hand away from her hair. Killmonger chuckled.

"You have a strong personality," Oya said.

"Benji told me to come here to give you some tips. The best thing for you is to let me become part of To Sleep With Anger. You don't even have to pay me cuz you know I'm set. I just want to play pure music that's slowly becoming its own thing. I miss that."

"Will you dump us when you get bored?" Shameika asked.

Shameika tilted her head and the purple tips of her hair on the left side of her head touched her stomach. The right side was shaved with one long tuft left on the temple that was beaded with cowrie shells. When Killmonger's eyes landed on her, Shameika's top teeth tugged on her bottom lip making her lip ring more visible.

"Who would get bored with you, Princess?" he said.

Oya caught the territorial glare from Jody, but Killmonger's smoldering drag across Jody's lean athletic form made her flustered and forget the man was flirting with her woman. He flirted with Jody openly too. Dropping his body on the floor next to them all, he held out his hands.

"Let me come to Atlanta and play. Just as a featured guest. We can talk about permanent stuff after."

"You do sound good with us," Shameika said.

Killmonger pointed to her.

"See? Taste."

Oya's heart pounded in her chest from being next to him. She could smell his light cologne and the hair oil he used for his air. The scent of roses and pumpkin spice lingered near him. Moisture left her mouth and everything tasted like cotton. A miracle walked into their audition and served himself up for their use. Oya glanced over at Jody and Shameika. They were just as gone as she was by what was being offered. She swallowed dust and thought of Deidre. Ark Ten was a smart move for her career, but what she would never have was the baddest guitarist around who left an exceptionally better band, and wanted to play for them. But knowing Deidre, she would be flattered to be replaced by someone like Killmonger. Oya ground her molars and pushed her fingers into her thighs. Her cargo pants pocket vibrated. The cell alarm went off. Their time in the studio was up. It was now or never.

"What do you think?" she asked the others.

Shameika held a thumb up and they all saw her sultry eyes turn gooey staring at Killmonger.

"He makes us hustle and I like that," Jody said. Her forehead creased.

Oya gave her a curious look when she took forever giving her answer.

"Me and Shameika are together," Jody finally said.

"That's not a yes or a no," Killmonger said.

"I see how you are and I want you to know the dynamics," Jody said pursing her lips.

"That's your lady, aight beautiful, cool...so am I in?"

Shameika lowered her eyes and Oya felt second-hand embarrassment watching the jockeying for the drummer's attention.

"What's your vote Oya?" Jody asked.

Those magnetic eyes of Killmonger's became daggers on her skin and Oya couldn't shake the arousal affecting her decision-making. He pushed them into excellence with just one jam session. Imagine what they could glean from him with full rehearsals?

She raised a thumb, and Shameika squealed. He wrenched his eyes away from Oya.

"Jody?" he asked. His voice was a raspy assertion. Answer him.

Oya saw the attraction Jody had for the man too. They all were drenched in it. Carnal danger oozed from his pores.

"Okay...yes," she said.

Killmonger clapped his hands and jumped up from their circle on the floor.

"We rehearse at our place in the mornings when our neighbors are at work," Oya said shifting her body to stand up. Her foot fell asleep and she shook out her leg to get the circulation moving.

He took out his phone and they all exchanged numbers.

"I'll bring my stuff at nine if that's cool," he said.

"Yeah," Oya said.

She was almost his height. There was a gleam in his eye as he flashed them all big white perfect teeth and four gold slugs. Two at the top and two at the bottom. His scars were real and if she didn't know him a little better from hanging with him that night, the man could come off menacing. He took up so much space.

Oya threw back her shoulders again.

So did she.

Begin at their beginning...

Afropunk brought two things to fruition.

To Sleep With Anger became that bitch and Deidre felt the heat.

They didn't announce that Killmonger was with them. Flying into Atlanta with hours of tight rehearsals behind them brought them to a different level of being. He was a task master, but he made sure they were in control. Over four weeks Oya saw how he could influence them without it being obvious manipulation. Helping them improve their songwriting, playing, and bolstering their confidence to challenge themselves was something she came to love about him. Oya fell for him quietly and in secret, and unlike his first time meeting them, all flirtations vanished. He was about the music twenty-four seven. She wrote several songs with him at his home studio in Silverlake, and he even helped Shameika compose her first solo creation. It was a cold ass song and Oya wanted them to open with it. Shameika burst into tears when Oya said that and Killmonger gave their sweet Goth girl a hug and encouraged her to write more and take chances with her lyrics.

They left the stage itself in shambles after their quick set. It was like they took a grenade, pulled the pin, tossed it, and made sure the destruction was complete before their exit. No one wanted to follow them after that performance. The shock of Killmonger leaving Slippage hadn't fully been processed before the world saw him on a smaller stage obliterating all competition around them in Atlanta.

Shameika beat out a master class of percussion before Jody sank her teeth into the bass ushering in the deadly claws of Killmonger's fingers making his guitar roar as Oya stalked out from behind him. The moment the audience saw him, shocked gasps rippled out and then she pounced on them all, lacing her voice around Shameika's lyrics throughout the soundscape they weaved for the audience. Her signature flame upswept do became the rage after their first performance as a re-grouped band. The biggest surprise was that Killmonger didn't steal their thunder. He harnessed it and threw it out for the world to accept as a class act worthy of recognition. They trended on social media. Deidre and Ark Ten had been number one for two hours because of their new Coachella line-up announcement. To Sleep With Anger knocked them out of the top ten trending topics soon after. Pictures of their Afropunk performance were shared all over. Oya couldn't help but float and feel hopeful.

The man made her feel reckless and powerful onstage. Their styles meshed and the thrill of prancing around and growling at him with throaty moans while he jerked that guitar around her shirtless like he was working his manhood made her invincible. He underplayed his position as mega star to allow them all the shine. He got off on it. Flirted heavily with all of them while he worked the stage. Oya threw him solos but he would bring in Jody, opening her up to the point where she was dancing around the stage which was something she rarely did that fiercely.

The fans loved Shameika's song and they played it again at the end for their encore. Their short set grew longer because of Killmonger and he pushed it. Shameika broke one of her sticks by the end and it was the omen of more good things to come.

Standing there with applause washing over them, Oya looked over at Killmonger. His eyes were slightly hooded. He was faded in a good way and she was too. They shared a joint before hitting the stage and she watched him make smoke offerings to someone named Bast. Oya gave a final bow and Killmonger leaned over covering her mouth with his lips. The crowd roared and she reached over with fresh acrylic black nails to scratch the scars on his nude shoulder. He bowed down to her like she was a queen and the audience lost it again.

"Let 'em see you, O," he crooned in her ear.

Oya swung her wide hips to the left and right of the stage with her black wolf's head cane in her hand. Her black laced combat boots matched the black mesh drawstring skirt and tank she wore with a short-waisted red bolero jacket. Their black flame logo was emblazoned on the back in satin emboidery. She sauntered over to Jody and Shameika who were shy about prancing around, but they basked in the sea of applause. Oya pulled them next to her so they could get their due.

Taking the mic from her hand, Killmonger stepped to the center edge of the stage.

"You're looking at three of the baddest musicians to come out of L.A. It's a privilege to play for them. Don't fuck around and miss out on this moment. Follow them. Support them. Snatch their EP at the merch table before it become a collector's item and you can't afford it. Take plenty of pictures so you can say you were there before they blow up. Give more love to Oya, Jody, and Shameika...To Sleep With Anger!"

Offstage they were mobbed by people trying to talk to them and get pictures. Killmonger was adamant that he took no solo pictures with fans. It was the group or nothing. That didn't stop people sneaking shots of him sipping on juice or talking to people. Security had to help them when the reality of his status went into warp drive. They had to have more security with them for the rest of the event.

Gracious, accommodating, protective, and a total fanboy, Killmonger acted as their professional handler. His personal bodyguard, Tyson, was a bruising giant that suffered no fools when it came to his boss. If Killmonger felt a fan was being rude to them, he sent Tyson after them. By the end of the festival night, Oya was exhausted by the lack of respect fans had for the personal space of huge stars. Oya wanted the same accolades, but the rudeness was astounding. So used to being ignored, or looked over, she adjusted to it quickly until a male onlooker reached out and squeezed her ass cheek near a speaker as she watched a headliner from Canada. She shoved the man and his weed-laced eyes narrowed. His lips became a snarl when he realized she wasn't interested in his tasteless unwanted sexual advances.

"You should feel lucky, bitch!" he spat.

A fist sliced across her peripheral and the next thing she knew, the man's face was punched in one direction while two of his teeth flew in the opposite. A crowd of male fans snatched him up and carried him off while Killmonger stalked after them cursing him out. Tyson pulled Killmonger back but he jerked away from his grasp. A random girl with long pink braids picked up the teeth with a napkin and ran after the owner of them.

"Shit!" Oya finally exclaimed. Killmonger only needed a bodyguard to protect fans from his fists.

Jody and Shameika were stunned and the crowd stood back from them when Killmonger returned.

"You alright, O?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head as Tyson made a wide berth for them to continue their evening.

"I've had my ass slapped, my dick grabbed, kisses placed on me without my consent..."

Killmonger's eyes looked them over before giving them a dimpled grin.

"See what you have to look forward to?" he told them with flashing gold teeth and drying blood on his fist.

On the way to Coachella and uneasy alliances...

Oya carried bags of Chinese food and soda to the apartment. She had to carry four bags carefully by herself because no one answered their cell to come help her. Climbing up the stairs and fumbling with keys, she entered the apartment hearing music, and smelling frankincense incense, weed, and burning vanilla-scented candles. The room divider from the living room to the dining room was up and Oya saw shapes moving behind the shadows of flickering light. Jody and Shameika were at it on their bed. They probably thought Oya was going to take a long time picking up food, however, she called ahead for once.

She ducked into the other doorway that led to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Clearly there was no rush to eat. Oya needed time to shower. Turning her head, the flimsy curtain they used to separate the kitchen from the dining room was parted and Oya could see Shameika on her back with Killmonger on top of her.

The hell?

She froze.

This was the fucked up shit that killed bands throughout history. Illicit sexual liasons...

Wayment.

Jody's fingers slid down from behind Killmonger's back and pinched his nipples. He turned his head to the side and they shared tongue kisses. Oya watched the man pull out his dick from Shameika, and dear God, he threw Jody down onto her hands and knees and plunged his sheathed thickness into her from behind. She watched him turn Jody into a quivering mess on her bed while he pulled on her hair. Shameika bent down and licked her tongue from the middle of his chest up to the side of his neck.

"Bounce on it," he whispered to Jody and she threw her ass back on him while Killlmonger

slipped fingers inside of Shameika's pussy. Oya could hear the squelching wetness and the woman's whimpers twisted around Killmonger's groans.

"Oooh, fuck!" he roared as Jody gave it her all.

Jody pulled off of his length and flipped over allowing Shameika to fall against her with her legs up in the air. Killmonger sank into her as Jody played with her peach-sized breasts and anchored her girlfriend's body for him. Their eyes stayed on that man's dick as it plowed deep and hard.

"Fuck me...Killmonger...!" Shameika was losing it.

"Shit," he yelped biting his lip as he hunched over her.

He was deep in her guts now and the thrashing she did under him made Killmonger double down on the snaking of his hips. Her arms flew back and Jody cradled them, sucking on Shameika's fingers before Killmonger pulled out again. Both women scrambled to get at his mouth for kisses and he held them both close to him as he fondled both their asses with greedy hands.

Oya slipped out of the kitchen and heard more movement. She wondered what position they were in now before jealousy seeped into her heart. She closed her bedroom door and sat on her cold bed in the dark. It was sad to think of how long it had been since she had sex with anyone. She didn't count the clumsy attempts of a man trying to fingerfuck her the previous year at a party, or even the coat check girl at her job. They were unconsummated misadventures.

She had no clue the three of them were fuck bodies. Killmonger kept sexual energy on stage and in their real life he was a gentleman guitarist coaxing the best out of them for work only. It was obvious Shameika had a big crush on him, but they all just settled into a mentor Rock-God relationship with him. He was playful during downtime, bossy during rehearsals, and flirty for shows.

"Cum in my mouth!" he shouted

His voice roared through the door and Oya pulled a pillow over her face and screamed. They were getting all that sculpted body. All that dick. All that mouth. Kicking her feet, Oya threw her pillow across the bed. Fuck 'em.

She turned on the lights and prepared to take a shower, not even bothering to keep quiet. They kept being loud even as she went into the bathroom and took a long shower.

Twenty minutes later she could hear their bed still rocking and rolling. Bitches!

Hunger trumped all and she made a ton of noise going back into the kitchen to fix a plate for herself. Dumping fried shrimp rice and walnut chicken on a paper plate, she yanked open the fridge to get a can of Pepsi.

Jody tumbled into the kitchen and washed her hands at the sink. She was fully dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and Oya could tell she was pretending that nothing had went on in the next room. She also wouldn't look Oya in the eye. Whatever.

Oya padded into the living room with her plate and drink and found Killmonger on their couch watching TV.

"Sup?" he said ogling her plate.

The shower went on again and Oya assumed it was Shameika in the bathroom. Jody walked out of the kitchen with two plates. She handed one to Killmonger who took it with gratitude as he tucked in with a fork.

"I would've gotten some egg rolls had I known you were coming over," Oya said with a little bite in voice.

"No worries. I just popped over."

"Yeah. I heard."

Jody's eyes almost fell out of her head. Pressure began to build behind her neck and Oya tried to eat her food next to Killmonger on the couch, but she barely tasted it. When Shameika came into the room with a small plate, Oya couldn't hold back.

"Is this going to be a regular thing?"

"What?" Killmonger said.

"Nigga, don't play dumb. You're fucking two of my bandmates. I'm really not trying to have no bullshit when it blows up in your faces."

Shameika's lip trembled. Jody studied the paint on the wall.

"It's none of your business what we do," he said poking out his full lips.

Oya knocked his food out of his hand.

"Oya...fuck..." he grumbled picking up the mess all over the floor.

Shameika jumped up to clean it and Oya shoved her back.

"Let him pick it up since he's trying to create a mess."

Oya's jaws clenched and she stood up to tower over him while he cleaned. He jumped up to face her.

"If you want some dick too, just say so. We don't need all the dramatics to get my attention."

"You think I wanna fuck you?"

"Every time you see me you want to."

"You said you wanted to see us win. This threesome will interfere with the work."

"Yeah...you wanna fuck."

"Killmonger, stop," Shameika said.

"Kill-monger, stahpppp," Oya said mimicking Shameika's mousy voice.

"Don't do that," Jody said stepping to Oya.

"Whatchu do? Let her fuck him so you wouldn't lose her?"

"Fuck you, Oya!" Jody shouted pushing her in the chest.

Oya pushed back and Killmonger stood between them.

"You are such a weak little pussy!" Oya shouted as the rage surged through her body.

Shameika ran to her bedroom and Jody followed after her.

"Weak bitches," Oya shouted to them.

A shock of pain blasted up her arm as Killmonger grabbed it and pulled her toward her bedroom. He opened the door and shoved her inside flicking on the lights and slamming the door behind him.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"Why are you fucking them?"

"Why is it your business?"

"The band is my business. You fucking up my business."

"What I do with them is between me and them—" "How long has it been going on?"

Killmonger rolled his eyes and she couldn't help but stare at his teeth and the locs flopping in his eyes. His blood was up and the look on his face was mean and it turned her on. She wanted to punch him and kiss him, but if she did that, it would only prove that she did want to fuck him and was angry that her friends got to him first. Wasn't she good enough? He was always gassing her up as the Queen Bee but he settled for drones...

Oya closed her eyes.

That was cruel. Jody and Shameika were her girls. Her sisters. She was acting like Deidre. Thinking she was better than all the rest. Fuck. Maybe Deidre was.

Oya flopped down on her bed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

His eyes were still tight, but he uncrossed his arms.

"What's going on?"

"I don't like being left out."

"Left out of what?"

"Inner circles. I thought we were a team...I feel left out."

"Because of sex?"

"No...yeah...I dunno. I'm stressed...Coachella is coming..."

Killmonger sat next to her and threaded his fingers in hers.

"Coachella is big for you guys, but it's just a music festival. Like all the others you've played before."

"Easy for you to say. We only got there because of you."

"So."

"People are saying that's the only reason we were invited to play."

"So."

Oya shook her head and he squeezed her hand.

"If you're scared because Ark Ten is playing just say that."

"I'm not scared of Ark Ten."

"Deidre then."

"She's a star."

"You're a star. You, Shameika and Jody."

"This has to be the best performance of our life, and I want to show her up. I want her to regret leaving us—"

"She's living rent free in your head and not even thinking about you. We had three dudes jump ship on Slippage before we even signed with Warner. Shit, I wasn't even in the original line-up. People leave when opportunities open up for them. Deidre is where she's supposed to be. I'm where I'm supposed to be. So are you. This is your come up, O. Enjoy it. Stop worrying about Deidre and stop worrying about my dick."

She punched his arm and he kissed her cheek.

"You stink," she said wiping his kiss off of her skin.

"I smell like good pussy."

"Please don't play with them."

"We're having fun."

"You're having fun. They are in a serious relationship."

"I hear you, okay?"

Killmonger released her hand and left the room to shower and clean up. Oya meandered into the kitchen then knocked on the wall near the curtain divider.

"What?" Jody called out.

"It's me. I want to apologize. Can I come in?"

There was no answer.

"Jody? Shameika?"

Jody pulled the curtain aside. Her face was contorted with anger. Oya saw Shameika on the bed bundled up under the sheet, her eyes wet and puffy from crying.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to talk to you both like that. I don't want this thing you have with him to blow up in our faces. Shameika, sorry for teasing you...I was...jealous."

Shameika cut her eyes and Jody crawled onto the bed and put her arms around her. They both ignored her.

"Sorry," she said again and left them alone.

Oya went to her room and broke out her weed pipe and smoked alone on her bed. With her bedroom door open she saw Killmonger walk out wrapped in a towel brushing his teeth.

"I stole a toothbrush from the pack under the sink," he said.

Oya shrugged and he ducked back into the bathroom to rinse his mouth. He returned fully dressed and barefoot. He grabbed the pipe and lighter from her and took a few puffs and cooled out on her bed.

"They are pissed at me," she grumbled.

"You were foul."

"I know. I apologized."

They smoked and the high was easy. Languid. She fell back on her back and stared at the ceiling. Killmonger curled around her and threw an arm across her stomach.

"I wrote a new song," she said.

"Lemme hear it."

She giggled.

"I'm high and my lips are rubbery right now."

Killmonger licked her face and it felt like warm velour caressing her skin.

"Sing it to me."

He nuzzled his face in her neck and kissed her there.

"You ain't slick," she said moving her neck from him.

"What?"

"Tryna get in my panties too right now because I'm floatin'."

"I would never do that. My dick is tired anyway. They had my shit spittin',"

"Oh God, TMI."

"I couldn't get it up if I wanted too. Give me the song."

"Hmmm..."

"It sucks."

"Shut up!"

She slapped his cheek and he cradled her hand and kissed her palm. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers.

"Sing," he said.

Oya closed her eyes and thought of the yellow legal pad she wrote the newest song on. The words floated above the paper as the melody danced around her ears.

"There is no place for a soft Black woman... there is no smile green enough or summertime words warm enough to allow my growth...and in my head...I see my history standing like a shy child...and I chant lullabies...as I ride my past on horseback...tasting the thirst of yesterday tribes..."*

The words flowed from her lips and Killmonger caressed her hip as he listened to her. He gave her suggestions for word changes when she was finished, and they moved from the bedroom to the living room to work out the song with her electric guitar. He played her instrument while she sang to him. Shameika and Jody emerged from their bedroom to listen and after a few more word changes they joined in on bass and drums that sat ready in the room all the time. They jammed, worked out a decent intro with the drums and Killmonger shoehorned a bass-heavy bridge that added a full body sound to the lyrics. Oya felt the sexual tension between the four of them. It was thick and undeniable. They were all drenched in sweat by the time they had a complete arrangement that worked well.

"We should close with this," Killmonger suggested.

Oya glanced over at Jody and Shameika.

"What do you think?" she asked them.

Jody shrugged and Shameika stared at Killmonger.

"You like it Shameika. I can hear it in your drums," Killmonger said.

Shameika's foot tapped on the floor. Killmonger stood Oya's guitar on a stand and he walked over to Shameika and pulled her up to her feet. He blocked their view of her as he talked softly with her. Oya left the room to grab a bottled water and when she returned, Killmonger had his lips on Shameika and she had her arms around his neck. Jody stood with her arms resting on her bass watching them.

"You good," Killmonger asked.

Shameika nodded her head and Killmonger went to Jody and gave her a hug.

"Team, right?" he asked Jody.

Jody twisted her lips and Killmonger grabbed her chin and tilted it up toward him.

"Jody?"

"Yeah. We're a team."

Killmonger pressed his mouth on Jody and she gave in. His hand squeezed her left butt cheek and she swatted his chest with a laugh in her throat. Fiery eyes raked over Oya's form as Killmonger strode over to her.

"I'm not leaving you out," he said.

His mouth devoured hers overwhelming her with the pressure of his large tongue sweeping around her teeth and making her own tongue submit to his will. A trembling in her thighs commenced, and she grew bolder as she pressed her body into his. Whatever he said about his dick not being able to rise to the occasion again was a blatant lie because the hardness she felt pressing against her mound had her panties damp. His arm slipped around her waist and he walked her backward a few inches before he let go of her lips. He reached for his shirt and took it off allowing the hard slick scars all over his chest excite her even more.

No words were spoken as he forced her back into her bedroom and undressed her. He groaned when her breasts were freed from her bra, and she moaned as his thick fingers pulled off her underwear revealing a glistening prize for his mouth. He ate her out on the edge of her bed, pushing her thighs back so that he could smear her juices all over his face. He licked her folds until she was clawing her bed. Sucking on her clit made her cry out and she knew Jody and Shameika heard her.

Killmonger stood up before she could release again and she watched him fetch a condom from his wallet and roll it down his turgid erection.

"You gon' play nice?"

"Huh?"

Breath was cut from her throat as he sank into her. He threaded his fingers in her hair and locked her body down good and tight. Hard thrusts made her pussy clench around his pipe. He brought his face close to hers and the gold in his teeth looked sharp and threatening.

"I'm giving you this dick, but you better place nice with the other girls from now on!" he growled in her ear.

Oya lifted up so she could see his dick beating up her walls. The aggression of his fucking made it hard to breathe. His hips swiveled and hit another part of her pussy that she wasn't expecting and she clawed his back. The scars on his body rubbed extra sensations into her needy skin and she whimpered into his shoulder to keep her bandmates from hearing, but the dick was so good that she was panting his name every time he sank back into her.

"Be a good girl, alright? Don't be jealous..."

"Killmonger!"

He palmed as much of her breasts as he could and forced her back to arch just to catch all the length he was throwing into her fast. She took the pounding gratefully.

"I'll be good! I'll be good...ooh shit! I'll be good...fuck!"

She went cockeyed trying to match his pace and gave up when he was balls deep and making her toes bunch up. His teeth tugged on her nipples and she took that moment to breathe deep and catch her bearings.

"Turn around!"

Killmonger stepped back from her and his heavy dick bobbed with her shiny slickness all over the condom. She dropped her legs down to the floor and shifted her body so that she faced the bed. Before she had a chance to position herself, he had his hand on the back of her neck pushing her down. Her ass jiggled as he thrust into her again, and she gripped the blanket on her bed to brace herself. Oya's ass clapped loud and she was unable to make a sound from her mouth. The shouting she had done made her voice hoarse, and she snapped her eyes shut and sucked on the blanket.

"Hold these ass cheeks open!"

Reaching behind her, she stroked her backside with her long nails and pulled her fleshy cheeks apart.

"Look at that pussy!" he choked out.

His groans rained down on her and once he started grunting and slapping her ass, she knew she would fall apart all over his dick soon.

"...being my good girl...pussy stretched all around me...fuck...Oya..."

She couldn't take it anymore. He was rooted in her way down deep until he bottomed out and gripped her hips.

"Right there! Right there!" he groaned.

"Fuckkk..."

Her orgasm exploded when he slipped demanding fingers across her clit and stroked her to completion. Bucking his hips, Killmonger's body went rigid and he cursed a stream of expletives until he collapsed over her.

Panting together, she felt kisses planted down her spine from his lush lips. He pulled out of her and bent down to kiss her pussy, licking the essence that flowed out of her. When she sat up, he left the room to go into the bathroom. Killmonger returned with a smile on his face.

"Let's record your song tomorrow at my place around nine—"

"I can't, I have to work at eight."

"Jody...Shameika..."

He padded out of her bedroom nude and went to the living room. Oya grabbed her t-shirt and pulled it on. She rummaged for a pair of sweatpants and sought out Killmonger. He stood in Jody and Shameika's bedroom talking quietly. She watched his shadow on the living room divider and felt a bit miffed that he didn't bother to dress before going to them. Her scent was all over him. The divider shook and she watched Killmonger pull it aside. Jody and Shameika stared at her. The smirk on Jody's face made Oya feel uncomfortable. Nothing like fucking a dude her ex had just rode hours before. Messy.

"We'll record before you go to work then. We need to lay it down fast. Skip rehearsal in the morning and just record. Cool?"

She nodded. The others seemed pleased with the idea.

"It's a great song, Oya," Shameika said.

Her eyes were still shiny and the lilt in her voice was relaxed. That man was working them all over. It worried her. Worried her for the next two weeks that they recorded tracks at his house and took promotional pictures for Coachella with a photographer he hired. The PR machine for Coachella was going into overdrive. Killmonger made them cancel all appearances until the festival. He paid them all out of his own pocket to make up for gigs they passed up.

"It's to build anticipation," he assured them.

Their streaming numbers jumped, especially when they posted the new pictures of Killmonger with them on their official website. He was part of the group now. The man drove them to play until their fingers swelled up and bled and their voices felt like they chewed chalk all day. Their bodies ached from working so hard. Killmonger's work ethic was stringent but worth all the effort. Oya's stamina improved. Musically and sexually.

They all shared him.

He was more discreet with their liaisons. The new polyamory created a push and pull that made their music racy. Electric.

The only foursome they indulged in was a weekend before Coachella. They tripped on 'shrooms with Killmonger in his house after swimming in his pool, and danced in their swim suits his den listening to all the new music they had created together.

"If you bring this fire to Coachella, it's a done deal," he said lying on his floor gazing up at his skylight that covered half of the ceiling.

"Done deal?" Oya said watching her fingers grow watery-looking as she allowed her body to trip with the high she felt.

"Yeah, Warner will sign us," he said like it was no big deal.

She screamed with Jody and Shameika as they peppered kisses all over his face. He stayed on his back as they sat around him like a harem.

"All this work you put in, it's all simmering on the stove. I gave y'all some extra seasoning and now we're all cooked down to the pot liquor now," he said.

His eyes were seductive, and his mouth was lax showing them his bottom slugs. Shameika stroked his cheek and he smiled. Oya bent down and kissed him and he accepted her ripe lips with a moan and wandering fingers. Stripping for him, they all took turns riding his face and going through condoms as they rode his dick too. Reconnecting with Jody intimately was a sweet reminder of how they used to be years before. Shameika and Jody sucked on his balls as she ran her tongue around the bulbous tip of his glans and she felt extra special when he came in her mouth. Jody and Shameika cleaned him with lusty licks and were rewarded with slow drips of extra semen that spilled all over their lips. They slept together in a warm heap of arms and legs on the floor and she woke up with his Killmonger's tongue sucking on her tits. She climbed on top of him and bounced on his dick with her heavy breasts teasing his face, letting him cum hot and raw inside of her. Jody and Shameika watched her make Killmonger holler her name like he had the holy ghost and they giggled when his eyes rolled back from his orgasm.

All was well.

Until it wasn't.

Carrying coffee containers from Starbuck's, Oya and Jody returned to a final mixing session in the home studio catching Killmonger fucking the shit out of Shameika on the sound board. Jody dropped the coffee she had for herself and Shameika and cursed a blue streak. Killmonger yanked off the condom and fastened his pants looking confused by the reaction. Oya was just as confused when Jody snapped and she pulled her back before it turned physical.

"Why you trippin'?" Killmonger yelled.

Tears welled in Jody's eyes.

"You promised!" Jody screamed.

Oya glanced between them. Shameika hung her head in shame.

Shit.

It became clear to Oya.

"I thought we were all good," Killmonger said still searching for understanding.

"This is why..." Oya mumbled.

"It just happened!" Shameika shrieked.

Jody stomped out of the studio and left the house.

"Jody!"

Oya grabbed Shameika's arm to stop her.

"Give her a minute, Shameika. Just go to the bathroom for now and –"

"What is going on?!" Killmonger said still out of the loop.

Shameika cradled her waist. Killmonger stepped to her and stroked her arm.

"Shameika?"

"We had a rule. I wasn't supposed to be with you by myself."

"Well damn, why didn't you tell me that?"

"Cuz I wanted to be alone with you like Oya is!"

"Shameika, bathroom, now!" Oya pushed.

Shameika left them alone.

"I told you," Oya hissed.

"I didn't know about their rule. I would've respected it."

"That was their fault for not cluing you in from the beginning."

"Shit. Jody won't quit will she?"

Oya pounded her fists on top of her head. The doorbell rang. Killmonger glanced at his security video screens near the sound board.

"It's Doug and Anderson from my management. I invited them to hear the final mix. Fuck."

Oya left Killmonger and hustled Shameika out of the bathroom.

"Get it together. Deal with your problem at home, you hear me?" Oya clucked like a mother hen.

Jody wandered back in with her lips set in a scowl and she sat away from Shameika as they heard the playback in the studio. Doug and Anderson loved it. It was a full album worthy of representation. Doug, balding, in his late forties, and deadly serious with his facial expressions kept squinting his eyes as he listened.

"What do we call this? Seriously? What is this sound?"

"Pot Liquor," Oya said.

Killmonger chuckled.

"What?" Doug asked.

"Inside thing," Killmonger said winking at Oya.

They played the album back again and the three men chatted with big plans for the band. But Oya could only watch the tension escalating with Jody and Shameika.

It was hell in a hand basket and Killmonger kicked it on its way by seducing them all into thinking they could handle open sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

Fuck.

The end of the beginning making way for new beginnings...

Oya stood behind the stage of the Mojave Stage tent with a nervous heart hammering in her chest.

The press, Killmonger's fans, and online pundits billed it the battle of the bands when Slippage was to perform after them, and Ark Ten before them. It bummed Oya when she watched smaller more talented bands get pushed aside for big name acts that didn't need the exposure that Coachella gave. A-Listers ruined the vibe for her. Everywhere she looked people were there to be seen. It had ceased to be about the music for many there. Influencers had some pull, and she was able to speak with a few before she dressed for their set. Shiny black dress. Blood red overcoat. Hair slicked down, titties propped up, she twisted all the silver rings that covered every finger on her hands. Two chunky silver chokers rested around her neck. They all agreed to dress their personality, and for Killmonger, that meant topless, black basketball shorts and black trainers.

Jody and Shameika were barely on speaking terms. Oya stayed at Killmonger's place because hanging around the apartment was brutal. Icy stares. Early morning cuss outs. Crying. She stayed out of the way as much as possible, but left after two days. All her time spent before Coachella was used to play her guitar, get her voice pampered and ready, and pray that the audience was receptive. They were part of the two Saturday weekend line-ups, and she prayed Jody and Shameika could keep it together for the following Saturday.

It felt like she and Killmonger had a lot to prove. Oya facing Deidre with Ark Ten, and Killmonger peeping Slippage without him.

"Is it mean to want the other band to suck?" Oya whispered to him.

"Nah. Slippage is a different animal without me now. They have new music. It's a new era for them."

"You miss them?"

"No."

"If people don't like this, you don't have to stay with us. We can say you were just—"

"Shut up," he said slapping her butt.

The thumping of music from a small monitor screen drew her eyes toward it where she watched Deidre shred. They hadn't spoken since she left them high and dry. Deidre had on a revealing black dress that showed a lot of breasts without nipples, and a thigh high split that Oya hoped had a g-string at the top. Killmonger bobbed his head as he listened to Deidre do a solo. She was a star. It showed.

Oya inhaled deep.

"You got this," Killmonger whispered in her ear. He kissed her and she felt her nerves move to her neck.

So many people. So many high expectations.

Oya shook her hands and glanced over at Jody who paced with her earbuds on listening to meditative sounds. Shameika stood still tapping her drumsticks against the top of her thigh, her eyes glassy and focused on some netherworld.

Tyson stood nearby keeping his eyes on the crowd and people backstage.

Martina, the stage manager walked over turning down her headset.

"Ready?" she said.

Oya nodded and the band circled up. She stood between Jody and Shameika.

"Go out there and be yourselves," Killmonger said.

The glint from his slugs made her tamper down her nerves.

"You don't look nervous at all," Jody said.

"I still get butterflies. I want to do my best for all of you."

They bowed their heads and Oya did a simple prayer and they all squeezed hands.

"Do it Shameika," Oya said.

Shameika shook her hair, tugged on her tiny black halter and shorts and pranced out to her drums. Colorful lights made her look glamourous and there was a smattering of applause as their logo lit up above her head. One twirl and she slammed on the skins and got right into her lane as their pocket queen. Oya saw a sly smile spread across Jody's face and she stomped out to where her bass waited for her and hooked in. When the lights struck her face, her head whipped toward Oya.

"What?" Oya mouthed.

Jody put stank on the bass as her thumb slapped hard. Killmonger hooked into his guitar backstage and when he heard his cue, he began to play and a roar shook the open tent. Strolling out like he had always been with them made Oya grip the mic in her hand tight. She was bigger than life. Bigger than the stage. Bigger than the biggest galaxy in the universe. Switching on the mic she called out,

"Buckle up Coachella, you ain't ready for this shit. I promise you. Hold onto to your edges..."

She stepped out and her eyes bugged. Holy fuck. The Mojave Stage tent they were under was packed. More than packed, the crowd extended far out of the tent and many people had to watch them on monitors outside.

Killmonger sidled up to her to help her regain her focus as she felt disoriented for a second. She looked down at his fingers working his chords and he bit his bottom lip giving her a flash of his face when he orgasmed and her clit thumped thinking about the way he handled her body. Oya shook her hips and he moved against her body.

"This bad boy right here is ready...are you ready Coachella?"

The roar of the crowd rattled the stage and instead of feeling like an indie band, they performed like they were on the main stage as the sun disappeared. Killmonger took over and scorched the guitar intro that Deidre ruined so long ago at Joshua Tree. When his eyes sought hers out and he suggestively wiggled his tongue at her the way he liked to work her clit, she growled deep in her throat then let pure rage flow out as she threw back her head.

"Show me someone not full of herself, and I'll show you a hungry person! Ahhhh, yeahhhhh!"

Everything poured out of her and Killmonger drove the rhythm hard, pushing her to dig deep and leave it all on the stage. Sweat made his scars shine like perfect little jewels just for her fingers to touch, which she did like always making people scream with delight.

She dropped to her knees and he placed his guitar close to her face to simulate fellatio. She spun herself toward Jody who did the same as she screeched out

"Give it to me!"

The first song raised the crowd into a tizzy, and it was easy to slip into the next song. She adjusted to the more than expected size of the audience under the tent and outside of it. Fifteen minutes in she took off her coat and slipped on her own guitar and joined Killmonger for a battle and by the time she caught her second wind mid show, her eyes caught a familiar face in the wings.

Deidre.

There was a smile on her face.

Feeling a way, Oya strummed her guitar and stepped to her mic stand.

"I want to introduce you all to the newest member of To Sleep With Anger...you may recognize him from some other band...who did you use to be with?" she asked Killmonger.

The crowd laughed.

"Everyone put your hands together once more for Erik Killmonger on lead guitar!"

Killmonger showed off a bit, and they went off script and jammed.

It felt like magic. Oya's heart swelled and she felt generous when Jody finally noticed Deidre on the side.

"Would you all mind if I bring out an unexpected guest?"

The audience clapped.

"All the way from the Outdoor Theater across the way, Deidre Peterson of Ark Ten!"

Deidre held her hands up, but Oya put a hand on her hip.

"Don't make me come over there and drag you out!"

Deidre walked out humbly, her face showing doubt about what was happening. Her eyes lit up when she saw Killmonger looking at her, giving her dimples and a wink.

"Use my guitar, Deidre," Oya whispered in her ear when she leaned in for a polite hug.

She glanced around at Jody and Shameika before she took in the crowd.

"Go ahead," Jody shouted.

Deidre picked up the guitar and Killmonger gave her space as she strummed it then broke into the very first song she and Oya ever wrote as teenagers.

"Bitch!" Oya teased before Jody stepped to her mic.

"I won't let you suffer all the way through it. We were just learning!" Deidre joked.

Oya faced the audience.

"We wanted to be heavy metal queens because metal, like all good American music started with Black people... you know it's true!" she catcalled the audience.

Deidre played one of their last songs they performed together and Jody joined her with Shameika rounding out the sound. Killmonger followed the rhythm adding his gentle flourishes.

"Can we give 'em a tiny taste?" Oya asked.

Jody held it down as Deidre shared the mic with Oya and they harmonized two verses before Deidre stopped playing. There was too much emotion on her face and she unhooked herself from the guitar and placed it back on the stand behind them. She blew kisses to the audience and hugged Oya before leaving the stage in a near run. Killmonger brought the music back up and forced Oya to let go of the past and look toward the future. There was pain still there, but they were both where they were supposed to be. They couldn't hate on the universe for being correct in the outcome.

They jumped back into kicking ass and taking names with Oya showing off her octave range and playing off of her bandmates. Killmonger tried to spit bars to one song and she covered his mouth with her hands making the audience cackle as she took over and showed him how it was done. Their songs ran the gamut of sexual politics, race, class, love, and the rage of Black women who were overlooked and forgotten. She sweated out her hair and rivulets of her exertion ran down her neck and breasts. Wrapping up with a strong closing, they all knew that the world was their oyster now. They carried sharp knives on the stage to cut the oysters open from now on. She waved for Shameika to come away from the drums and the four of them stood side by side. Jody threw an arm around Shameika and Killmonger held Oya's hand as they took in the applause and whistles, and shouts for more.

Deidre was absent from backstage but it was just as well. It was To Sleep With Anger's moment. Not hers.

Bigger acts sought them out to chat and they took some time to watch Slippage perform. They weren't as good anymore without Killmonger. She saw the smirk on his arrogant face when their reception without him was less than stellar.

Killmonger had hired a crew to break down and pack up their instruments and they were driven home in a large black S.U.V. to Killmonger's house at the end of their Coachella stay that first weekend. Jody and Shameika went off to one of his guest rooms to work out some things leaving Oya alone with Killmonger. They had talked all night after their performance. There was hope.

"Think they'll make up all the way now?" Killmonger asked.

They sat inside his jacuzzi easing their weary bodies. It was early in the morning.

"They're in love. But we'll see what happens before next weekend."

Oya sat up on the edge when the water got too hot for her.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" she said flicking hair from her eyes.

Killmonger swam up to her and pressed his body in between her thighs and gripped her backside.

"You were letting the world know some things with how you were acting on stage with me."

"Know what?"

"We're feeling each other. More than just an occasional hook-up."

"We do have mad chemistry."

His eyes became dreamy looking up at her.

"You are amazing, Oya. Tonight...shit all three of you were just fucking raw. Coachella hasn't seen that in a long time. Fuck, music hasn't seen that in a long time. Period."

She stroked the top of his head fingering his locs and he closed his eyes and rested his head against her stomach. Rubbing gentle circles along his back, she touched his scars that had become so precious to her. He had become precious to her.

"Killmonger?"

He raised his head up and she lowered hers and kissed him. Their lips fought for leverage together and when their tongues sought heat and wet mouths, he stepped out of the water and held her hand. Her eyes felt heavy. Sleepy. She was still high from being onstage the night before.

"Where are we going?" she said.

"To make some music together."

"Oh, yeah?"

"All day, And the next day, and the next..."

He pulled her along and they took off their wet swimsuits and shared a shower together before he took her to bed. The man played hymns on her breasts with his calloused guitar fingers and hummed a sultry blues on her slick folds. Musical notes danced across her clit with the tip of his tongue and when he sucked sweet orgasms from her one after the other, she finally understood what Betty Davis meant by the lyrics in "Anti-Love Song" about a nigga making a woman "scrawl", because she was screaming and trying to crawl up the walls once he penetrated her, parting her folds like soft fleshy curtains. His short teasing thrusts had her begging him to fill her up with his entire length, stretch her wide open, and take her to the place where love rested easy.

They held hands as he went deeper and deeper and Killmonger made her lose all hope of ever letting him go.

The world made her a little less angry with him in it, and she was so grateful.

A.N. Song lyrics were from poems.

Nikki Giovanni poem ""Poem for a Lady Whose Voice I Like"

Sonya Sanchez poem "Present"

A.N.: This was originally published June 6, 2021. Brought it back for fun! I thought I would expand it as an indie book, but I'll wait on that!

[erikftglitter]

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.”

[onesmallspark]

Workout

Today I missed my workout but it worked out.

Erik Killmonger x OC 

First time writing in a while, sorry if it’s trash. Just a little something.

Warnings: Possessive behavior, fluff, minimal dialogue, smut

“The fuck you doing?” Erik asked, eyes bugged out as he stepped into the open garage, Lia bent over at the waist, hands on her ankles. He was sure he hadn’t seen that outfit in the dresser before.

Sunshine yellow Nike pros and a matching sports top clung to her skin the same way he did after a couple drinks on a Friday night. Last night, to be exact, and it was way too damn early for this - the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Li,” he all but growled.

Straightening her posture, she pulled one earbud from the side of her head.

“What?” She frowned. His most commonly-used tone was pissed-off. She, on the other hand, was having a good morning, and wasn’t going to let his sour face ruin her mood. It was entirely too early in the morning for all of that.

“Where you goin’?” He gestured at her body.

“Running.” She replied, crossing one arm over the front of her body.

“Outside?” He replied, acting as if she told him she was going to take a quick jog to New Zealand.

“Nah, thought I’d run in place right here for 30 minutes or so,” she rolled her eyes.

“You can’t be runnin’ around out here wearin’ that.” He ticked his head.

“I’m wearing sunscreen,” she replied, switching arms. “We live in a good neighborhood,” she shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” he all but snarled. 

“What are you going to do?” She smiled sweetly, “stop me? I run this route every day when you’re gone.”

Normally, Erik would never let it fly. He’d snatch her up and toss her right back where she belonged - inside their damn house with him. But for now, he thought he’d let her think she got away with something. Honestly, he just wasn’t feeling the cardio today, but now he had a point to prove.

“Fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” he mumbled, stepping back into the house and upstairs to the bedroom, grabbing a pair of basketball shorts out of the dresser. He was tying the drawstring when he heard the garage door closing. “Aye!” He shouted, stuffing his feet into a pair of Nikes. Tearing out the front door, he caught a glimpse of the yellow rounding the corner four blocks down.

This would be too fun for him. He loved the damn girl, but right now, he was going to have some fun at her expense.

Lia was making good time. She’d done a few 10K races before, but she was working her way up to a half marathon this summer. When she ran early in the morning, the chill kept her from overheating. This morning, she was planning on tapering down to three, maybe three and a half miles.

It wasn’t until about her first mile down that she caught a glimpse of her psycho boyfriend. A whisper of his appearance caught the corner of her eye as she doubled around the block once, heading further toward the running trails ensconced by woods.

“I see you, Erik!” She shouted, answered by silence. 

The run wasn’t enough to exhilarate Erik, but the chase kept a smirk pulled across his full lips. The chase would always get his heart pounding more quickly than any workout could. Plus he loved those yellow pants, making her ass look like a thick lemon he wanted to sink his teeth into.

The streetlights were slowly dimming as sunrise approached and Lia could hear footfalls approaching that were just heavy enough to notice. Turning her head, she saw Erik closing in.

“Erik!” She shouted with a laugh, picking up her speed. She knew he could catch her if he really wanted.

Erik was approaching all cylinders and she was still a few beats ahead of him. She was getting fast. He was just about to extend an arm to reach out and grab her before she took a deep cut left, heading right into the thick of a neighborhood, weaving through backyards. This would be fun.

It wasn’t how Lia saw her morning run going, but she could appreciate the challenge as she ducked under newborn trees and weaved through open gates.

If nothing else, Erik always kept her on her toes.

“Where’s the speed, Lia?” He taunted, not even sounding winded.

“You know I go for distance, asshole!” She laughed, launching herself over a short fence with the help of a Fisher Price slide.

Landing hard on the ground, she collected herself as quickly as possible, turning her head to see Erik land quietly with all the grace in thew world.

“Don’t think about it, Stevens,” She barely dodged his fingertips as she took off again, heart pounding in her ears. 

“Your last name, too, in case you forgot!” He shouted. She wasn’t going to win this.

Their neighbors wouldn’t appreciate the shouting before seven in the morning on a Saturday, but s at the moment, she didn’t seem to care.

Lia could see the facaded fencing lining the entire Stevens property. It looked like any other fence you’d see in suburbia, but with a 12,000 volt charge weaved throughout. 

“You think you’re safe there?” Erik called, grinning. He was close to his prize.

Lia fumbled with her phone to open the garage door that had been closed not 20 minutes earlier, trying to remember if she left the back patio door unlocked after she and Erik pulled themselves from the jacuzzi the night before.

Tearing into their home, she dodged around no less than three pairs of shoes, the sliding glass doors in sight and just out of reach as an arm looped around her waist and effectively killed any momentum she had been building that morning.

“Erik!” She squealed a laugh, “put me down!” She insisted, a rush of air leaving her lungs as his other arm scooped around her the underside of her legs, carrying her like a small child.

“Where you think you goin’ with my breakfast, huh?” He chided. 

“Baby, please, I - ” Lia Stevens landed, with all the grace of a sack of potatoes on their bed, sure she could still feel the warmth from their skin that morning.

“Lookin’ like a goddamn lemon drop,” he mumbled, curling his fingers into the tight elastic waistband of her pants and damn near ripping them down her legs. “How you about to run through this neighborhood with no fuckin’ panties on under this?” He asked - it had been a while since he felt moderately scandalized.

Lia had to keep from laughing in his face.

“Can’t believe you,” he mumbled, running his hands up her stomach and sliding them under her bra, palming her breasts greedily. “Arms up,” he commanded. She was a willing prisoner at this point as he removed the offending article of clothing. “You cute thinkin’ you can run away from me,” he crawled on top of her, pressing a few kisses into her neck as his hips dragged down against her body.

Lia moaned out something unintelligible, feeling the cool cotton of his shorts against the heat of her sex.

“Let’s see you escape me now.”

[ororowrites]

Erik Stevens and OC: Could’ve Been - say yes (chap. 3)

Characters: Erik Stevens and Essence Jones

Warnings: smut and language 

Word Count:   2,484

Based on the song: Say Yes by Floetry 

Prelude - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

So sorry this took so long! I’ll try to get the next chapter out a bit sooner. :)

Essence should have stopped them. She had no experience, this was her best friend and they would regret this later. Even with her mind telling her to stop, her body and her heart wouldn’t allow it. 

Erik shifted them until Essence was on her back and he could comfortably rest between her legs. He wanted this and it quickly became obvious from the tent building in his sweats. Slowly pushing his tongue into her mouth, Erik deepened the kiss. A low moan slipped from Essence’s lips, the slow, tender kiss causing moisture to pool between her thighs. It was erotic. Leaving Essence panting when he finally pulled away.

Erik focused his attention on Essence’s neck, sucking the sensitive spot near her shoulder. The way her body responded made it seem like she wanted him to continue but he asked to make sure, “Want me to stop,” Erik quizzed, knowing he had left his mark already.

“No,” Essence replied softly. Following her request, Erik kissed her again. This time, nastier than the last one. That gentleness was gone and had been replaced with a feeling Essence wasn’t used to experiencing. For once, she felt like she could go all the way. Erik began to grind into her center, the size of his length making Essence’s stomach uneasy when Erik reached between her thighs, she placed a hand on his chest prompting him to stop. If she was going to go through with this, Essence thought it was only fair to let Erik know the truth. 

“You alright? What’s wrong,” he asked, pulling away.

There was one secret that Essence did not share with her best friend and she didn’t intend to share until tonight.

“Um...I’ve never…. I’ve never done this,” she stuttered, unable to look Erik in the eye. At 22, she hadn’t planned on still being a virgin but she hadn’t met anyone deserving to share that moment with. Most guys she met were trying to smash on the first night or their entire plan was to hit it and quit it. Essence wasn’t naive when it came to men and she let that be known when they tried to get in her pants with a few sweet words and lip bites.

“Shit, E. Why didn’t you say anything,” Erik exclaimed, moving back to his side of the bed. “I wouldn’t have gone that far.”

“I said I was virgin, not that I had never kissed anybody,” Essence argued, rolling her eyes.

“Nah, it’s not that. I just assumed… you know…”

“That I been out here fucking any and everything,” Essence countered when Erik stared at her as if she had grown two heads.

“I didn’t say that,” he came back.

“Sounds like you’re assuming it. I know it’s rare in this day and age but…”

“Essence that’s not what I was saying, damn. There’s nothing wrong with you being a virgin. I just...I’m trying to figure out why you would want me to be the one to take it. You sure about that?”

Essence played with her fingers, which was a nervous habit Erik had picked up on when they were kids. “Yeah. I’m sure, I guess,”

“You guess? You’re acting like this shit isn’t a big deal. You can’t get your first time back, so at least make it with someone worth a shit,” Erik explained. The thought of being anyone’s first time freaked him out but being Essence’s first was a different story. He didn’t want to take her virginity and then not live up to being the guy she wanted him to be, that’s if she even wanted him in that way.

“But you’re worth a shit. Barely, but you are,” Essence joked, in an attempt to lighten the uptight mood. “They say you know when you’re ready, right? Well, I feel like I am.”  

That still wasn’t enough to convince Erik that he was the right guy to take her virginity. “Nah, I don’t think you know what you want. You stopped to tell me you were a virgin for a reason.I’m respecting that. It’s cool.”

“I swear you’re the most annoying dude I know. I told you so you would go gentle on me,” Essence added, feeling like she was begging at this point. If they were seriously about to argue about who would take her virginity she would eventually dry up like the Sahara.

“Are you hearing yourself? You want me, a dude you aren’t even with, to take your virginity. See how crazy that shit sounds,” Erik argued.

“Oh my-would you fuck me! Is that what you want me to say, Erik,” she yelled, even shocking Erik who had been on the other end of her verbal attacks in the past.

They had been friends for years and knew almost everything about each other. Even during their beefs, Erik kept an eye on Essence without her knowledge. Simply, because he cared about her. Which was why he was uncertain about taking such a prized possession from her when it meant so much.

“You’re deadass, huh,” he said softly. Essence nodded calmly. “Alright, but if I hurt you we are stopping,  got it?”

“Just don’t ram that thing in me like you do other bitches,” Essence replied, eyeing the erection growing in his sweats. She gulped, thinking about him stretching her out and what that might feel like.

“How you know how I have sex with other women? You been watching me,” Erik laughed before turning serious. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He went back in for a kiss, softly pushing Essence back on the pillow.  He captured her lips again, gently. As much as Erik could barely contain himself, he knew he had to go slow.

Reading Essence’s body language, he began to undress her. Starting with her t-shirt and sports bra, each article of clothing mixing with his as he threw them to the floor. Suddenly, Essence felt self-conscious with her body on full display. Flashes from the television decorated her skin, leaving her open to Erik’s wandering eyes. She attempted to cover her chest as Erik bit his bottom lip.

“You don’t have to be shy, it’s just me,” Erik said, pulling Essence’s hands to the side. “Plus you’re so damn beautiful. Don’t hide.” He planned to explore her body in order to get acquainted with her likes and needs. They had all night and morning. He settled between her thighs, latching on to one perked nipple. The sensation of him drawing her into his mouth and massaging the other breast was overwhelming. Erik skillfully teased her until he was ready for the next task.

Heat rose to Essence’s cheeks when Erik moved towards her stomach, planting kisses as he made a path between her thighs. Essence didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until Erik hummed and peered up at her with that annoying ass smirk. Her center moistened when Erik’s beard grazed her clit. A hushed moan left Essence’s lips when he flicked the tip of his tongue against her.

No man had ever been this close to her in such an intimate way. Essence opted for pleasuring herself, which left out the wonderful sensation head could offer. Another flick of his tongue and then he gave her a little more, teasing around her clit before burying himself deeper. There was a bit of discomfort but the feeling was quickly dissipated.

“That hurt,” Erik asked, his voice thick with lust. The last thing he wanted to do was make this experience painful.

“I’m good,” Essence muttered, nodding her head.

“You taste good,” he added, dipping his tongue between her folds again. Over and over, he used the flat of his tongue to massage Essence’s sweetness. Her nectar coated his tongue only making him want a better taste. So he widened her legs, holding her thighs down with his elbows while he enjoyed his meal.

The Essence’s body began to react without her consent. Her legs shook under the weight of Erik’s bulky arms, her ass cheeks clinched with every suck and kiss. Gaining some control, Essence rested her hands on Erik’s shoulders.

Erik hummed, sending a slight vibration through Essence’s body, “Ohh shiiiit...Erik,” she squealed, not sure where she mustered up the words to express how good he felt. He drew her clit between his lips and sucked it gently until Essence came undone for the first time that night.

“There you go, baby,” he hummed, using his thumb to spread her juices. “Damn, your shit is wet as fuck.”

Aftershocks pulsed inside Essence’s body, causing her legs to close around Erik’s head when he continued to eat. She moaned loudly and exposed herself more when she arched off the bed. “I’m gonna cum,” Essence cried, pushing back against Erik’s forehead until he slammed her hand to the sheets and held it in place.

Squirming and cussing did nothing but make Erik suck harder, sending Essence into a sexual bliss that had her seeing stars. He figured he’d stop for now to give her a break before the main course.

“Oh my God, that felt amazing,” Essence panted, frozen in place as the climax paralyzed her body for a short moment before it wore off.

“Yeah? Well, I got something else that feels even better,” Erik bragged, holding himself in his hand. It was hard to read Essence’s expression but he promised her he’d be gentle. Not wanting to rush it, Erik continued foreplay to relax her body. They kissed, exploring each other’s bodies until Essence was comfortable with Erik’s fingers teasing her insides. He marked her neck as he slowly moved his fingers in and out, pulling guttural moans from his best friend.

“You ready for this dick, baby girl,” he questioned, holding his soaked fingers to his mouth before sucking them clean.

Essence nodded, her nerves returning even though she knew she was ready for this. Erik was just...large. “Go slow, please,” she begged when she felt his dick lined up with her center. Her eyes remained closed as Erik slowly began to push his length inside her tightness. “Ah!”

“We can stop… I don’t want to hurt you,” Erik offered.

“Nah, I’m good. It just burns a bit,” Essence bit her lip, hoping the burning sensation would be replaced with pleasure.

“Relax,” Erik coached her, pushing in bit by bit as she sucked a deep breath in and let it out through her mouth. “There you go. Just breathe.” When his length finally disappeared, Erik sat still, giving Essence time to adjust to his size. “How’s that feel? Still hurt?”

Imprints of Essence’s fingers would probably be left on Erik’s forearms with how tight she was holding on. “I don’t know, I can’t feel my legs,” she said, sending Erik into a fit of laughter. “Nigga, the shit ain’t funny!”

“I ain’t even done anything and your legs already jello,” he laughed, peppering her face and neck with kisses to make up for his joke.

“Erik shut the fuck up,” Essence giggled, happy that he wasn’t making this terribly awkward.

“But for real, I’m not trying to wreck your shit on your first time. So if I start hurting you, we can stop. Aight,” Erik repeated, kissing the tip of her nose. The discomfort began to fade when he gently moved his hips. That slight pain was replaced with a satisfaction Essence had never felt.

Stroke by stroke, her walls began to fall and the feeling of Erik inside of her felt better. For a moment, Essence allowed Erik to take her to another realm. With deep thrusts, he made love to Essence. Their bodies seemed to fit seamlessly as if this was how it was meant to be the whole time.

“Fuck,” Erik cursed under his breath and into Essence’s neck. It was hard not to cum too fast, but he held strong. When Essence’s nails dug into the skin of his back, he changed his pattern. Circling his hips, Erik was met with Essence’s sweet moans. “Talk to me.”

All Essence could respond with was a slew of expletives. Either Erik was good in bed or she has just been missing out on the blessing of sex. She sensed it throughout her limbs but mostly in the deep pits of her stomach.

“How’s it feel, baby,” he asked again, pinning Essence’s arms above her head. The sound of their flesh colliding filled the rooms, created an erotic song.

“Good,” Essence cried. “So fuckin’ good!” An even stronger climax was beginning to build but Essence wanted to hold on as long as possible. She wanted to hang onto this moment with Erik.

Everything they had been through began to flood Essence’s head, causing tears to escape and cascade down her cheeks. Seeing Erik in this way was different. He let his guard down with her but not in this way. She could actually see him and it was beautiful.

Erik leaned forward and kissed away her tears. He linked their fingers, pounding into her harder.

“You wanna cum,” he questioned, sucking her earlobe between his teeth. “How hard you wanna cum?”

“Erik, please,” Essence moaned in response, gripping his hands as a rush of sexual euphoria hit her like a ton of bricks. “Fuuuuuuck….”

“Answer me,” he demanded, his own thrusts becoming jagged everytime Essence’s pussy pulled him back.

That last thrust sent Essence spinning.  Her body floated away from her while she shook involuntarily under Erik’s weight. The smallest whimpers filled his ears as he filled Essence’s womb.

There was a mess between her legs, but they didn’t move for the next fifteen minutes. Erik ran a bubble bath when Essence complained about being sore. For the rest of the night, he tended to her until they fell asleep.

………..

One Month Later

After Essence had returned to Texas, things had gotten weird with Erik. They were fine with the idea of giving a relationship a try after college, but for now they remained friends. That was until Erik made a visit to Chicago. One of his boys was murdered by a gang member from the opposite side of town. Coincidentally, the accused murderer was killed in a shooting and Chicago police couldn’t find the suspect.

Essence tried to get into contact with Erik with no luck. Weeks had gone by without contact and she began to worry. Calling wasn’t getting her any answers, so she decided to make a trip to California.

To her surprise, Erik was no longer living in the apartment she had visited a month ago. There was a young couple moving in and they hadn’t seen the last tenant that occupied the space. Erik had disappeared once before but he seemed to be in a different head space now. Had he moved back to Chicago?

Essence tried calling Erik’s cellphone one more time before it went to voicemail.

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy  @theunsweetenedtruth @bakarisangel @supersizemeplz @itsjustshanie @turn-thy-paige

[sonofnjobu]

Can I give you a request. Today is my birthday and I would like a birthday one shot with Erik. Obviously reader is black and chubby and basically she hates her birthday but Erik wants to make it special for her. Fluff and smut levels up to you. Thank U love you so much

Happy Birthday, baby! I hope it was amazing.

Here’s a little something I cooked up. Pure fluff. And here’s a song to go with it.

TOKEN

Historically, your birthday had never exactly been great. As a child, all of your school friends were off at summer camps or on vacations with family. You’d gotten used to the disappointment. No one was ever available to celebrate with you other than your aunts and uncles and a few cousins.

At least back then, your grandmother would hand you a birthday card with $20 in it, but now that you were an adult, that had stopped. Which you found hilarious because as a broke grad student at MIT struggling to pay Boston rent, you needed that $20 now more than ever.

This birthday, you were one of the few people on campus for the summer semester. You were trying to haul ass through this program and get your Masters as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, that meant that none of your friends were either and you had no one to celebrate with.

Your professor droned on in the front of the class and you scrolled aimlessly through your Facebook. You’d received the standard amount of “Happy Birthday” messages from people you hadn’t seen in years, but you were still bummed.

Other people had their rooms filled with giant metallic balloons on their birthday, or one of their friends would go through the effort of making a compilation video. Some people got those giant sparkling candles or Sephora gift cards. A surprise party was completely out of the question as there was no one to plan it and no one to attend.

It always seemed to happen to someone else. You wondered if you’d ever get to feel special.  

Did that make you selfish?

Maybe.

But it was your fucking birthday. You deserved to have fun!

You snapped out of your daydream of a large and lavish party when your classmates all pushed up from their chairs and began to pack away their laptops and books. You slowly gathered your things and resolved that you’d just go get some ice cream at the corner store and have a movie night in. You’d even take a Lyft to treat yourself.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you fished it out.

Your eyes widened when you saw a message from Erik Stevens on the screen.

“Yo. It’s your birthday!”

You’d met Erik at a few overly cramped apartment parties and had been completely enamored with him. Who fucking wasn’t?

You ran in the same circles, but had never truly hung out just yet. Every time he ran in to you, he’d thrown his hands up and yelled, “Y/N! Finally, the party can start!”

He found you funny and engaging. He always smiled at you in the hallway and wrapped you in those tight, one armed hugs. You found yourself gravitating towards him every time you saw him… being a slightly bolder, funnier version of yourself. You loved to make him laugh and catch his gold canines as his chubby cheeks pulled up in a smile.

No one ever remembered your birthday. You found yourself grinning as you tapped a response.

“Yeah it is, haha!”

The three dots bounced on your screen immediately.

“You doing anything tonight? We’ve gotta celebrate.”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell him about your pathetic plans. You elected to punt.

“What do you have in mind?”

The three dots didn’t return, and your heart sunk a bit. But you knew getting your hopes up was dumb. You were about to shove your phone back in your pocket when it vibrated again.

“Meet me at Roxy’s at 6:30.”

That wasn’t a lot of time. You began to power walk down the street to your apartment so you could get dressed up. Your heart was racing and your cheeks already hurt from smiling.

–

You got out of the Lyft at 6:28 and looked around the street. You weren’t exactly sure where it was you were going, but you have two minutes to get there.

“Y/N!” you heard someone call.

You turned to see Erik holding the door open to a small little diner and you skipped across the street to him. His enormous, muscular arms enveloped you in a tight hug and you melted a little bit.

“Happy Birthday!” Erik wished you. “You look great!”

You grinned. You’d taken a chance wearing this tiny romper cause you knew your thighs were gonna rub together. You were glad it paid off.

Erik took your hand and led you in to the very small shop. You looked up at the menu. It was exclusively grilled cheese. How cute.

But Erik kept pulling you to the kitchen doors and away from the tiny counter. You walked by a man sitting atop a single stool guarding the doors and Erik nodded to him.

“She’s with me.”

He led you through the swinging doors. Your face was lined with confusion. Were you going to take a grilled cheese cooking class or something?

But instead of ending up in the kitchen, the doors opened up to a full, retro arcade.

Your face lit up.

The walls were lined with action figures and television playing old cartoons. Synthesized music pumped out of the speakers and people milled about waiting for their turn on different games. There were pinball machines and Pac Man…giant Mario Kart and other racing games, basketball, Dance Dance Revolution…

Erik wove expertly through the crowd, dragging you along behind him. He came up to the bar and pulled out a stool for you. You struggled a bit to get in it and your thick thighs spilled over the sides a little, but once you were finally atop it, you sat face to face with Erik who was still standing.

“Whachu want?” he yelled over the music. “It’s on me. Whatever you want!”

You were frankly overwhelmed. For as much as you always wanted someone to make a big deal on your birthday, you were entirely unprepared. You scanned the bar quickly and your eyes came to rest on a boozie slushie machine. You pointed at it and Erik laughed.

“Aight! You’re tryna get fucked up. I see! AY, TONY!”

He beckoned the bartender over who dapped him up. Erik ordered himself a beer and you one of the sugary slushies.

“And it’s the lady’s birthday!” he informed his friend. Tony smiled a large toothy grin and leaned over the bar to you.

“Happy birthday!” He slid a paper party plate over to you with a singular twinkie and popped a candle in to it. Tony produced a lighter from his pocket and lit up your mini cake.

You felt as if you’d melt in to the floor as Erik and Tony began to sing to you. This was the most.

You made a wish and shoved the twinkie in to your mouth. Erik laughed and handed you a small golden pouch.

You opened it to find gold tokens for the games behind you.

“Oh, wait!” Erik said suddenly, digging in his pants pockets. He pulled out at least six more tokens and added them to you stash.

“I’m guessing you come here often?” you laughed.

“Oh, yeah! I’m a huge fucking nerd, girl. You didn’t know?”

The two of you spent the night competing and jabbing at one another. Though he got more baskets than you in hoops, you kicked his ass at DDR. He defeated all of his opponents in Mortal Kombat and you died before you could even figure out the controls.

He purchased an entire cup full of tokens and bought you another drink. He lost his shit when you accidentally went to drink from the token cup instead of your slushie. In retaliation, you challenged him to a pinball tournament.

That boy was screwed from the jump. You hustled him.

“Ya girl grew up without internet, Erik!” you yelled over the crowd as your points mounted. “It was Microsoft Pinball all day every day!”

You threw up your hands as you beat his high score and let out a loud whoop.

“SUCK IT!”

You turned to away from the machine to gloat in his face when his lips suddenly met yours.

You were completely shocked and hesitated a moment before leaning in.

His strong hands came to a rest on your plush waist and he sucked on your bottom lip. The tips of his dreads tickled your face and he backed you up in to the pinball machine. He kept kissing you until a frustrated dude waiting for his turn on The Addams Family Pinball Machine interrupted the two of you.

“Hey! Get a room!”

Erik pulled away from you with a devilish smirk on his face.

“I win.”

[Masterlist]

[chaneajoyyy]

Who wrote that gorgeous Killmonger fic where he was basically Hades and the main character was Persephone? I need it in my life

It was Into The Depths series by my good sis @hearteyes-for-killmonger😘

[brattywriters-anonymous]

I’m baaaaaack!

Ya’ll I am so damn mad at myself! So much has happened since that last update the personal life has been crazy to say the least. I forgot how to make time for the shit that I love to do.. like writing. 

First things first, I was shocked just like the rest of the world when finding out about the passing of the great Chadwick Bosemen.. but the more he would show himself (Specifically, in Kevin Hart’s latest doc/comedy special) and I would see how much weight he lost, I knew something wasn’t right. Before then I made a lighthearted comment about his wife not feeding him, that didn’t come out of a bad place.. Of course, I had no idea what was happening and I’m a jokey person..I make all kinds of jokes but it’s never to hurt anyone.. I’m saddened that we lost such an incredible talent just as he was starting to get his flowers that he deserved. I pray that his ancestors receive his brave spirit in the afterlife and that his loved ones here find comfort in him no longer having to fight that tough battle.

Second things second, I’m still head ova heelllls for Michael Bakari Jordan! But, ya brat has a lil love life or whatevaaa! I did tell my man if MBJ ever gave me the chance, I’m FOLDING! I even told him about this page and he supports it all the way.. actually me bringing it up prompted me to bring my ass back lmao!

Third things third, Y’all better had got y’all’s asses out to vote! And if you didn’t, GO TOMORROW. GET THAT LINT LITTERED CHEETO OUTTAHERE! Along with that red majority congress!

So, about updates:

I always knew the direction I wanted to take ARIH, I just don’t know how many chapters it’s gonna take to get there. So that’s still on a temporary hiatus but TRUST ME! THAT DRAFT IS STILL ON MY PAGE, WAITING ON ME TO FINISH!

The next story I’m gonna pull back out is the Luke James fic. I absolutely enjoyed creating that one and it was an underrated joint.. so I’m definitely gonna shed more light on that one.

And I kiiiiiiiinda wanna collab with a certain author... but Idk what her schedule is like and she has like 5-6 other stories she’s working on (and I’m reading ALL OF THEM!).. I’m gonna reach out, see how she feels.

Other than that, My requests are OPEN! Challenge a queen! I’ve missed writing sooooooo much!

[whorderofthepheonix]

Sacredly Scarred: Chapter 29 || Erik Killmonger

A/N: I hope you guys haven't given up on this story :( but here you have it! Chapter 29 of Sacredly Scarred! ENJOY! :)))

Words: I highkey forgot to count. sorry.

Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Swearing (duh), Plots of world domination

IF YOU ENJOY MY WORK, PLEASE REBLOG WITH VERBAL FEEDBACK!!

Yenai’s POV

Erik grabbed my face roughly, as tears filled his eyes.

“You’re... You’re Wakandan?” He whispered, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yes!” I cried. “Yes, I am!” He peppered my face with kisses and laughed. “I knew there was a reason why we couldn’t stay away from each other... Through all the shit we been through, there was ALWAYS this force that pulled me back to you... And THIS was it!”

“So your mom...”

“Wakandan,” I nodded. “I was born there and shunned by the entire country. When I was about to turn 4, they gave my mother an ultimatum; exile with me and my father or to remain General of the Dora Milaje... She didn’t even hesitate.” My chest tightened talking about my mother’s betrayal. Then I realized I didn’t know who Erik was. I caressed his face. “Tell me who you are...”

“N’Jadaka... Son of Prince N’Jobu,” he said softly. I dropped my hands and my eyes widened.

“N’Jobu? The Lost Prince of Wakanda?” I whispered. “Wait, what? But you said that your dad was killed by his brother... Which means... No! N’Jobu was killed by-”

“T’Chaka.” Erik hissed. “King T’Chaka murdered my dad is cold blood and left me here to find his body... That’s why I’m gonna kill him... then I’ll overthrow his son and become king.”

“Is that what all of this is?” I asked looking around.

“Yes. I’ve been planning this since I was 11. And if you wanna leave me because of this, I understand... but I’m not gonna stop until he’s dead. Then I can finish what my father started-“

“I’m in,” I interrupted. “Whatever you’re doing, I want in. I wanna see Wakanda come crumbling down. All I ask is that when it comes time and you’re king, that you bring my mother to my feet... and you let me kill her.” Erik didn’t say anything. He just looked at me.

Then he kissed me hard.

So hard, that I fell backwards from the force. He climbed on top of me and spread my legs apart.

“I love you,” he said against my lips.

“Ndiyakuthanda,” I whispered back causing him to let out a long moan. He pulled my leggings down and discarded them along with his shirt and sweatpants. I sat up and he lifted my pullover off my torso throwing it in back of him. He grabbed my legs, pulling me down so to meet his waist. He didn’t even give me a second to adjust and just started thrusting into me, so hard. I practically screamed out and clawed at his back. With every thrust, I fell more and more in love with him. He kissed me across my collar bone, his hands tracing my curves as if to make sure he still had hold of me. I tilted his head up and kissed his lips, biting and sucking on his bottom lip. I was keen on making this the best sex we’ve ever had. I clenched tightly around his shaft and he let out a whimper.

“Fuck, baby keep doing that!” He hissed. He sunk his teeth into my neck and let out a long groan. His hand snaked down to my clit and rubbed vigorously to the point where my eyes were rolling back and my toes were curling. My back arched up off the floor as the remarkable sensation bubbled up in the pit of my abdomen.

“I’m gonna cum,” I whimpered. Erik grabbed my hair and increased his speed. He pressed his lips to mine.

“Say my name,” he panted.

“Erik-”

“Say... my name,” he begged. I realized what he meant as a smile crept upon my face.

“N’Jadaka,” I moaned against his lips. As if those were magic words, he picked up an inhumane speed and stared deeply into my eyes... His eyes were black and full of lust.

“Ndikuthanda,” he moaned. I dug my nails into his skin, pulling him closer and kissed him deep.

“I love you too,” I whispered as I came, my back arching off the floor. N’Jadaka screwed his eyes shut and thrusted one last time, hard, cumming deep inside of me. Usually after Erik and I had sex, he’d roll off of me and hold me close. Sex with N’Jadaka was different. He stayed put and kissed me all over. He started at my neck, moved across my shoulder, down my arm and he brought my fingers up to his mouth, kissing my fingertips. When he was done kissing my body, he held me tightly. I played with his dreads as I came to a realization.

“Your father was Prince N’Jobu?” I double checked. He looked at me and nodded. “So that makes you Prince N’Jadaka, huh?”

“Damn right,” he laughed.

“Soon-to-Be King N’Jadaka,” I fantasized as I moved his dreads out of his face.

“Keep talkin like that and imma fuck you again,” he warned me.

“What’s our next move, your highness?” I asked.

“We need help from someone on the inside. Someone who’s been in and out of Wakanda,” he explained. He pulled out of me and draped a heavy blanket over my naked body. He picked up a journal before getting under the blanket with me. “My pops was working with a man, Ulysses Klaue, to help bring vibranium to black people to over power their oppressors... we gotta finish what he started.”

“Then let’s find him,” I smiled.

***

The moment our things were out of the apartment and packed into our new place, Erik and I were on the first flight into Johannesburg. G helped us located him and Erik got us on the next flight out of LA. First class, of course. It didn’t take us long to find him. Turns out the Avengers were here the day before, the Hulk wreaked havoc throughout the city, and a quarter ton of vibranium went missing off of a ship on the edge of town. Klaue had to be here.

Erik and I were sitting behind each other at the train station, waiting for Klaue to show. If he got into any scuffle with the Avengers, he’d be as low key as possible, the only way out for him would be the train.

“Anything on your side?” Erik asked taking a sip of his coffee.

“Negative,” I said as I scanned the room. “You?”

“Nah. You sure he’d take the train?”

“If he’s on the Avengers’ raidar, he’d be stupid to take a plane. Trust me, he’ll be here,” I reassured him. 2 minutes later, a man wearing a baseball cap and shades walked into the station. He kept looking around and on the side of his neck was a brand. It was written in Wakandan. It was the symbol for ‘THIEF’. “He’s here. Black hat, black sunglasses.” Erik waited a few seconds then turned around to watch Klaue at the ticket booth.

“Aight. Let’s move in,” he instructed. When Klaue sat down across the station, me and Erik walked over separately. I sat first, getting Klaue’s attention.

“Hello beautiful,” he smiled. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing in these parts?”

“Same as you,” I shrugged. “You see, I know how to find things. Things real valuable. My only issue is, I don’t know who to sell it to... You know, with the Avengers snooping around, I thought I might be best to get out of town.”

“Smart, beautiful, and handy?” He asked. “I could use someone like you on my force. How can I help?”

“More like, how can we help each other?” Erik asked sitting beside us. “Ulysses Klaue. It’s an honor.” The smile faded from his face.

“Who sent you? The Avengers? CIA?” He asked.

“No, we’re here because we know what you want and we know how to find it,” I said. “Your vibranium was stolen by the Avengers and we wanna help you replace it. For a small fee of course.”

“Wrong. My vibranium was stolen by Ultron, Stark’s robot who wants to end the world,” he corrected.

“Really?” Erik asked smirking. “An evil robot stole from you to end the world?”

“Think I’m lying, do you? He did this!” Klaue unzipped his jacket and showed that his left arm from the bicep down was missing. “Now if you two don’t mind, either prove what you’re saying or kept it moving, yeah?” Erik looked around before pulling out a bag and handing it to Klaue. He opened it up and smiled.

“And we can find more,” Erik insisted. “We just want 70% of the cut.”

“70%? Klaue laughed. “Boy, I wasn’t born yesterday. You’ve got to do better than that.”

“60.”

“25.”

“50.”

“30% and a night with this one,” Klaue grinned stroking my cheek. Erik’s face turned red but before he could do anything, I pulled a large knife out of my jacket pressed it against his forearm.

“40% and I’ll let you keep your other arm,” I warned. Erik smiled and Klaue laughed.

“Deal.” We exchanged information and Klaue said he’d be in touch once he wasn’t so hot on the radar.

***

Erik and I flew back to LA shortly after and officially moved into our new home. After a nice long shower together, we curled up in our bed. I was almost asleep when I had an idea that never even crossed my mind before I killed my father.

“N’Jadaka?” I shook him gently.

“Hmm?” He asked.

“Let’s go to New York,” I suggested. “I’ve always wanted to go at New Years Eve... To see the ball drop. We can bring the twins! It’ll be so nice!”

“The first part sounds nice,” he laughed. “Of course we’ll go to New York. We’ll go anywhere you want baby girl.” I kissed his luscious lips and cuddled back next to him. I closed my eyes dreaming about seeing the ball drop when I heard the sound of a truck reversing. I sat up and turned on my light.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered. Erik got up from the bed and looked out the window.

“We got new neighbors,” he said.

“The fuck? We’re the new neighbors!” I stomped my foot as I put on my robe. “They’re trying to steal our shine and our welcome to the neighborhood pies!”

“Yenai, you don’t like pie,” he groaned.

“But I’d still like one,” I frowned. “And who moves in at 11 o’clock at night?” Then our doorbell rang. Erik insisted that I stay inside but of course I didn’t listen. We opened our front door and I almost fainted.

“YENAI!” The twins greeted.

“Isn’t this so exciting?” Alyssa grinned.

“We’re neighbors again!” Ayana cheered. Erik and I looked at each other. Then we burst into laughter.

~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter of Sacredly Scarred left!!!!! I’m so sad to see it come to an end! Please reblog with verbal feedback! it’s greatly appreciated!!!

Tag List:  @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @shame-full-love @wakanda-4evr @destinio1 @queenartistica @starbucksnapkin @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat  @beymonger @goldenratiophelia @sociallyawkward18 @pandagirl200 @chelledallas @thatbish27 @janellemonaenae @blaq-gyal @ironsquad @godhatesyouandi @bigdaddythraxxx @cocooned-butterfly @someareblindtoitsbeauty @84eix @sincerelyroxxie @i-am-shee @thadelightfulone @depressed-little-shadow @vikkidc @keonaforever21 @keairadiamond @plushthighs @itsjustshanie  @ovohanna24 @getyourfandomon @kzmiaz13 @marysxo @forbeautyandlife @blackandfair @imdiirtydan @theunsweetenedtruth @maya-leche @fromthebaytola @jennxgold @supernovaah @hidden-treasures21 @queenshxt-only @cutewylie @pupyluv247 @elegantd @namelesslosers  (Did I forget anyone? I’m so sorry! LMK!)