#WithLoveFromWakanda

[eye-raq]

Below.

This is an entry for the With Love, From Wakanda Valentines writing prompts.

Prompt: That’s it. No more wine, ever.

Warnings: Fluff.

Summary: Directly below her, an intriguing man she’d grown to befriend gives her company on Valentines Day.

“Breathe Lola, it’s just roses.”

It was a warm day in San Fran, just one day before Valentine’s. Lola Duvall climbed the stairs to her apartment on the seventh floor, the nursing shoes on her feet feeling like bricks. She had a long day in the ER for twelve hours straight, registering outpatients of different statures. Her belly growled, making her motions a lot faster as she finally made it to her door. She placed the roses from her mail slot in the crook of her arm, unlocking her tattered apartment door.

The first thing that hit her was the AC, and the smell of old burning inscense. Lola places her key on its designated hook along with her work bag full of nothing but old papers, ink pens, and crumbled up granola bars. Next were the bricks on her feet. She kicked them off quickly, wiggling her toes. The tips were chipped from a quick boring paint job the other day, the white not so flattering anymore.

“Bills, bills, bank statement, magazine I’ll never read.”

Lola places the roses on her living room table, mentally reminding herself to put them in a vase. She assumed they could be from an old flame? Maybe one of her good girl friends showing her love. Whoever it was the roses were beautiful. Lola walked towards her window seat, pulling her phone from her back pocket, spotting nothing new. She lets out an exasperated breath, eyes studying the skyline of San Fran. Scratching at her curly bun, Lola brought her attention back to her mail, only a few trash worthy envelopes in her hand.

“Baby shower invite, oh, how nice.” She smiles at the pretty gold script. Her long time best friend since childhood, Jacqueline, was having twins. Lola hadn’t the opportunity to go shopping for her, but she had a few items in mind. Flipping through a couple more times, Lola pauses over a single red envelope no bigger than the rest. It was embroidered from what it felt like against her fingertips, a simple gold sticker holding the flap down. The front was blank, the anonymous piece of paper making her mind wander.

Lola glanced over at the roses on the table, her eyes dancing from her hand and back at the smooth dark oak. So it was most definitely an ex, or maybe... a secret admirer? Whoever it was, she couldn’t help but to smile. Lola was a chill girl, strikingly beautiful yes, but not an IT girl. She liked the little security she had, it added to the mystery that men had about her. She was a sucker for secret notes and letters, this entire thing reminding her briefly about high school and the Secret Valentine’s they would do with a small mesh bag filled with smarties that read out cute little messages.

Your so cute!

Just wanted to say I adore you

Xoxoxo

Be mine?

Hugs!

Flirty!

“Catching eyes, Lola?” She spoke, finally taking her squared pedicured French tip to rip a clean slit in the back. Inside was a perfectly folded piece of paper, one that looked to be ripped out of a journal. Dropping the envelope down, hearing it slip between her heater, she unfolded the thin piece of paper, adjusting her cat eye red frames before reading it.

I made love to her on paper. And spilled ink like passion across the sheets. I caressed her curves in every love letter. I kissed up and down her thighs in short sentences and prose. I tasted all of her innocence, without a spoken word. I bit her lip and pulled her hair in between the lines. I made her arch her back and scream, it only took a pen.

Her feeble fingers.

Lola’s brown eyes read over the cursive with a new interest each time. She yearned for the culprit. Who would send her such a lulling yet steamy, sexy, well though out poem? The tips of her nails brushed against the back of her neck, causing the short curls to fall from her bun. Just a day before Valentine’s? Lola was imprisoned in her thoughts, her mind trying to piece together the clues like a thousand piece puzzle. Lola studied the paper and noticed a smudged stained finger print in the corner. Bringing it closer to her face, she studied it, before sniffing it with caution.

“Chocolate?” Whoever wrote this must have been munching on Hershey kisses. Thank God it wasn’t some horrid unhygienic stain. After letting out a content smile with her mind still focused on her poem, she went to pick up her roses, ready to give them a new home. Just a single slender vase that her mother gave her sat on her kitchen counter directly in front of the tiny window. The poem sat open directly next to it, her eyes scanning the lines that had her knees weak. She could lean over that counter and stare at that piece of paper for hours, but it was going on seven o’clock and she needed some food and rest. Kissing her fingers lightly, Lola places them against the poem, a soft smile gracing her heart shaped lips before walking away.

Freshly showered and enjoying her usual spot outside on her personal balcony that was attached to the fire escape, Lola took small sips of the aged wine that was gifted to her for her 30th birthday. It was Armand de Brignac Rosé. Rich bouquet of red fruits gave the pink champagne a fresh full bodied feeling on the palate, lingering and complex. She placed the glass between her legs, adjusting her head wrap before hearing the familiar sound of balcony doors opening and the sound of boots hitting the metal surface.

It was him

Her Below.

He was quiet, definitely a loner, and stylish. Lola could talk his ear off again. She enjoyed his voice and admired his handsome features. Lola lifts softly from the ground, leaning over the railing to find him smoking with his back against the doors to his balcony and his knees drawn toward his chest with his forearms draping over them. He looked just as perfect as always. His dreads braided back, a pair of gold rimmed glasses on his face, black sweats with a white tee, and Doc Marten’s on his feet.

“Mind if I tell you about my day?” Lola seemed to have startled him, but as soon as his eyes looked towards hers, a simple yet genuine smile graced his lips.

“You know I love it when you talk to me, Lola.”

Erik puts out his weed against one of the rails of his balcony, placing it inside of his pocket before ascending the stairs to her level. With each step he took, his eyes never left hers and his lips remained in a permanent smirk.

“You look like you had a long ass day girl.” He leans against the railing directly next to her, his arms folded over his broad chest.

“Stressful AND long...you know how my work days normally are, I talk your ear off about it all the time.”

Erik shrugs, eyes lingering to the floor of the balcony, noticing her glass of wine.

“All I do is sit around my apartment, and write all damn day.” Erik yawns, before reaching for her glass.

Lola knew about Erik being a writer, but she didn’t know what kind of writer. He was pretty mysterious when it came to his personal life and day to day activities.

“So, uh...what do you write, exactly?” Erik brings his nose to her wine glass, taking a tentative sip before smacking his lips.

“This is some tart ass wine.” That didn’t stop him from taking another sip. Lola admired the way his full bottom lip would hang over the edge of her glass, the hot air from his nose fogging it. When he removed the glass from his lips, he would lick at the corners of his mouth, dimples deep. He was really something.

“You’re gonna tell me what you write about?”

Erik gave her a look, his eye brows shooting up with a crease of his forehead.

“I guess it’s fare that I share it, right?” Lola nodded her head in agreement, accepting her half empty glass of wine and taking a sip herself.

“I write erotica.”

The burn of the wine hitting the back of her throat caused her to cough faintly, a hand to her mouth and an uncomfortable crease in her brow. Erik couldn’t help the smile that fought to surface, shaking his head at her.

“Erotica you say?” She liked Erotica, literature or art intended to arouse sexual desire.

“I got your attention huh?” He teased her, licking his lips.

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie you did.” She reaches down to pick up her wine bottle, adding more to her glass, not so much to drink but more so to have something to do. Erik could be intimidating, and she didn’t want to come off as desperate while standing next to that beautiful man.

“Why write about sex?” His eyes glinted, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

“You sure you wanna turn up the heat Lola?”

Oh boy. What was she getting herself into tonight. She bit her lip in thought, her finger swirling around the rim of her glass.

“I’m curious, feed my curiosity Stevens.” He gave her a coy smile before clearing his throat to speak.

“I write to fuck with your brain, your heart, your morals, and your sense of self. Lust, love, desire, denial, boundaries, pain, pleasure...”

“So, it’s not about the sex, it’s about what reaction you get from it?” Lola could feel the wine doing its job, her movements becoming more loose with a blithe expression.

“I like to see how my words imprint on a women when they read my shit.” Erik fixed her with a gaze.

In that moment, Lola wanted to descend those stairs to his place, and pick through his writing. She imagined he had mountains of papers littering his desk with a lone type writer sitting in the corner. Maybe he even had piles of books for reference and some of his own work. His articulate nature was very sexy.

“I bet your words have an enormous effect.” Lola could feel his eyes on her, attempting to focus on drinking her wine rather than take in his sanguine eyes.

“They do. You wanna find out?” Erik pulls his phone from his back pocket, scrolling and typing. Her wary gaze traveled to his fingers, admiring how thick they were. She wondered how they looked holding a pen, or maybe even her hips? Taking a look at her wine glass, she suspected all of these thoughts were because of the tart alcohol. Her skin felt ignited and her lips extra moist from the assault of her tongue.

“Okay, Princess. Here is something I’ve been working on for a bit. Tell me what you think, aight?”

“Alright, I’ll be your critic.” She took his phone gently.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me if my shit is bad.” He gave her a leering gaze, one that already answered the questions in her head about how freaky this writing could be. Lola’s eyes finally fixed on his phone, shutting him out momentarily.

Turn around, and give me the perfect angle, the perfect silhouette. Let my eyes admire the pretty brown flesh with your delicate pedals peaking at me from behind, my staggering hands reaching under the bridge of your body to cup your breasts. Fuck abandonment, I wanna devour that flower from the back and shock your round flesh with my overworked hands while you stroke that slit on my aching tongue. Let me feel you shower me with that honey and shake under my assault. Grind me, feed me, suffocate me, while you moan and whisper a yess. Look back at me princess with those beautiful eyes and a nibble of your lips. Look back at me and instruct me, tell me what to do and how to do it. I want you immobile. Take my gift like the good girl you are. My soft lips, my wet tongue, my thick fingers. I need to explore you. Tell me where you like my tongue and how you want me to dip it. Is the texture just right? Am I being greedy with every satisfying stroke and flick? You’re breathtaking and I’m dangerous. Your delicate and I’m primal. It’s safe to say I delve into your deepest and tightest spot, claiming what’s mine with each invasion. Coax me further and yearn for the feeling, we got all night.

Panting, sighing, struggling to keep it together, Lola finally ends where he stopped. She hadn’t realized that her glass was empty again, and hadn’t noticed the grip she placed on his arm to keep her steady. Erik’s fingers sooth her back, the service alone feeding her wonder. She couldn’t even form words, her eyes blinking and her tipsy movements fighting with her.

“That was..”

“Forbidden territory?” He chuckles deep within his chest, his frame much closer than before.

“I don’t care, I’ll trespass.” She giggles nervously.

“Oh for real?” He said that deeply. “Tell me when and I’ll let you in. I’m just below you, Lola.”

“Are...are you flirting with me?” She trailed her hazy eyes down his frame. His stance definitely changed, he was practically looming over her like he was her personal shade to cool her off, and his face was gratifyingly close to hers.

“Is that a fucking problem?” He rumbled.

“Nah. I-I’m just...” Lola was on the brink of wrapping her legs around this man’s waist.

“Good, cuz we don’t need one unless it’s a problem you want me to fix?” Lola’s creamy brown skin grazed his bare arm, electrifying her. So apparently Erik has a thing for her. Lola thought back to the rose and letter from her secret admirer, wondering if it wasn’t a secret any longer...

“E...” she closes her eyes, flicking her lips with her tongue. This wine...

“What’s your plans for Valentine’s?” He cut her off suddenly.

“Nothing... it’s not like I have anything to look forward to.”

“Why don’t I keep you company? I would hate for you to be lonely.” The shock she felt had her insistent. Erik’s bold, brash behavior surfaced.

“So does that mean you can give me something to look forward to?” Her soft voice trailed off.

He licked at those lips, his fiery gaze strong and withholding. It was definitely clear from the signs that Erik was responsible for sending her the valentines surprise. Your mind traveled back to those words and the way he described the capabilities of that tongue of his. How was his erotic writing on the same level of his actions? She truly wanted to know. Why the hell not? What was the harm in being his naked demonstration? The chemistry was clearly there.

“That’s it Lola. No more wine, ever.” She let out a graceful laugh before batting her lashes at him.

“I like this Lola though, she’s bold. I’d love to tame that ass.” Erik brushes her cheek with his knuckle.

“Was that what you had in mind when you wrote that sexy little poem Erik?” He didn’t hide or deny anything, he just trapped her between him and that railing, his breath tickling her cheek.

“I got a lot of shit in mind. We got all fucking night into tomorrow, and yes I can go for that long ain’t no problem for me.”

Sex with Erik. It could be right where they stood, or on the floor in his apartment. Either way...Lola wanted to sample this man to see what she’d been missing. She wanted the opportunity to settle below him this time, but with her legs over his shoulders and his dick buried deep inside of her.

“Words Lola. You have a mouth, use that shit.” The scent of his breath was definitely that of chocolate. His hands delicately gripped at her neck, trailing down her chest and to her hips. Erik could definitely feel her heart beating through her clothes.

“I want you to show me, let it take all night if it has to.”

The friction of his hands on her hips increased as he lifted her up with ease, her legs wrapping around him swiftly. Her secret admirer walked down those stairs with her entangled within his embrace, her arms around his neck and his lips attacking her neck. This definitely had to be his plan. He smoothed his way into getting a chance with Lola, and now he had to ease her delicate body into the rough, frantic, scorching sex they were about to have.

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[eerythingisshaka]

Mr. and Mrs. Stevens

This is my submission for @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots Black Panther Anniversary/Valentines Fic Fest!  Not sure if this fic goes with the theme of the fest and if its a bit....I don’t know, however I did a thing and that’s that on that!

Warnings:  Violence, Language, Sexual Situations

Word Count: 4k

Erik Killmonger x Black!OC

Prompt: “Try not to get blood on your clothes. We have dinner reservations in half an hour.”

Her phone trills in her bra as she checks herself out in the mirror.  The shift she picked up for a friend starts in 15 minutes and she hates when he calls beforehand.

Picking up the call she answers.  “Hey Erik.”

“Wassup baby girl?  You at work?”  His voice carries extra loud in her ear and kind of scratchy.

“Yeah actually.  So why are you calling?”  She asks in annoyance while applying her lippie.

“Aww, now don’t be like that.  You -- money tonight e--?  So don’t trip!”  His voice crackles in her ear.

She takes a step back to look over herself in the mirror, pushing her braids back and turning around to check her behind.  “The only thing I’m tripping over is why you obviously aren’t using the new AirPods I got you last month?  I can hear the 10.99 drugstore quality in my ear, it’s bringing down my mood.”  A loud sniff interrupts her train of thought as she sees a brunette leaning over the rim of a sink with a rolled up dollar bill.

Erik tuts at her.  “Come on, you know I’m a traditionalist when it comes to the audio experience!  I gotta, I gotta have, you know, an immersive, like, surround sound type of thing and like, the cords help-”

She leans on the sink in front of her.  “You lost one at the gym today huh?  When I called you and you said ‘shit shit shit!’ that was you dropping my money down the drain, huh?”

“Your money?  Since when is it your money only?”  Erik asks out the side of his mouth.

A girl taps her on the arm, wiping her nostrils as she holds out the dollar bill with a line left on the sink.  She shakes her head with a polite smile.  “Since I been doing all the work here.  These long nights, planning my own appointments, working these guys for tips with only my own damn wit, when they obviously want more!”

“Pssh, aight aight, calm down.  You know I appreciate this.  It’s OUR thing though, so don’t get your butt on your back with me.  I know you nervous cuz a high roller comin in today.”  Erik says calmly.

She picks up her bag and stuffs it in a locker, slamming it closed.  “Yeah, it’s basically now or never, Erik.  If I’m not what he’s looking for, he’s moving on and then we ain’t got shit!”

Erik shushes her softly.  “Chill, trust me.  You what he’s lookin for.  Guys like him love bitches like-”

“You better be kind and rewind that for me!”  She demands.  Erik always slipping his tongue at the wrong times, ignorant self.

Erik laughs.  “I don’t mean you!  He likes ‘females’ like you.  He studies them the most, you know?  That better?”

She sighs, choosing to ignore the still derogatory term.  “Fine.  You just be here when it’s all said and done.  I need you in times like this.”

“You do, huh?  I need you too, if you wearin whatever was in that bag you packed.  Shit looked tiny, so you ain’t covering much.”

She cackles out loud, her laugh bouncing off the walls of the room.  “Shut UP!  Don’t be silly right now!”

“Ain’t nuthin silly!  WE ain’t playing, you feel me?”  Erik says authoritatively.

She kicks her heel at the ground, biting her lip.  “I might be in a mood to see my friend backstage tonight.”

“Oh, so you claiming this dick right now?  Cuz, I thought this was MY dick!  Since I put in all the work around here, getting hard, staying hard, breaking your fucking back so all you gotta do is take it and you can barely handle that-”

“Oh Erik, fuck on with that.  Buh-bye!”

“You get it now?  Be good, DeDe.”

---

Johnny Rocket’s Adult Entertainment Club has a reputation for high profile clientele and catering to every kink imaginable.  Politicians, celebrities, CEOs, and anyone with a 7 figure or more annual salary has the possibility of getting in any night, however the waiting list was 6 months back, minimum.  If your name is powerful enough, you may receive a bump for the inconvenience, but there’s no way that list would move, as people kept looking for a chance to have an extravagant night inside.

One did not have to be looking for a touch from a stranger in order to enjoy themselves there, the club scene is just as hopping with exquisite seating, expensive liquors and miscellaneous party favors for the bold.  Tonight, Johnny Rocket’s is packed wall to wall for a birthday party of the man who runs the Upper West Side of Las Papeleras, of that’s what he would call it.  Mark Foley is the embodiment of greed; a shark tank businessman with a lust for power.  His monopoly of the financial district kept his pockets running over and the local law enforcement’s lined to keep his shady dealings going at an accelerated rate.  

His dealings started off with drug trades across the southern border of the United States, renting out the time of immigrants on the promise of Visa documents and safe keeping of their families on the road to citizenship.  This was a messy business however, as many of his vulnerable employees would be caught shortly after a drop or killed for being intercepted to ensure the details of his operation remained unknown.  It wouldn’t take much to cover his trail with his buddies in DC anyway.  Even with a successful run, Foley would instruct his subordinates to drop off the grid, leaving his pushers high and dry until ICE came for them eventually.  

But he was out of that game, now it is all about real estate.  Foley knew exactly where to upstart businesses for friends and confidants that would make him the richest man in America.  

“The rundown, dangerous, and poverty stricken  neighborhoods are nestled so conveniently between downtown and the burbs.  We just need to get those low lifes sucking off the teat of our taxpayer dollars to get off some extra dough, or get the fuck outta there.”  Foley slurs his words, picking up his tumbler of 12 year old whiskey.  

One of his associates respond, shaking his head.  “Ahh, come on, Foley.  Those people have been living there for so many fucking generations!  How could you uproot them like that, changing there way of life at the drop of a hat like that?  Where’s your heart?”

Foley blinks his eyes a couple of times, staring at his acquaintance from across the room for what seemed like hours.  The flashing, multi-colored lights of the club blur his vision as the bass of A$AP Rocky pounds at their temples.  

“Really?”  Foley asks loudly over the music, frozen with his drink in his hand.

The man laughs out loud, banging the back of the couch as he leans his head back in blissful humor.  “Fuck no!  I’m just fucking with you Foley, come on!”  He boasts, picking up a bottle of whiskey, clanging it against Foley’s glass.

Foley shakes as his hoarse laugh builds in his gut.  “Ohh, man, you had me going there for a second!  You can’t joke like that with me man, you’re still on probation with me.”

The associate combs his hair out of his face, adjusting his tailored, chocolate suede jacket.  “Let me have some fun, huh?  Anyway, you know what to do.  Call up Johnson to get in touch with Hesson about his eminent domain clause on the block, and kick those sons of bitches out on the concrete.  They’ll find a way, roaches never die, you know?  They just skedaddle on to a new nest to infest.”

Foley lights up a cigar, pointing it his way.  “Exactly.  I consider this motivation to do better for themselves.  Hell, once I clean up the pigsty, they can bring their credit score and occupation info, if they have one, and make a deposit with 6 months rent to settle in to the swanky new digs I transform those rat traps from!”

A waitress comes over in a leather miniskirt and thigh high boots with a fringed crop top that rests off her shoulder.  Half of her braids are bound on top of her head, with the rest cascading down her back.  Even in the dark room and the intensity of the strobing lights, her melanin shown beautifully rich, bringing the table to her full attention.

“Can I get you gentlemen another round?”  Her voice said with a sultry timbre, leaning forward to pick up bottle and adjoining glasses.    Some of her braids fall in the face of a hypnotized Foley who reached his thick hands through them, sniffing.

“Mmm, if you mean the juice, that’s not what I need another round of, sugar.”  Foley says wagging his eyebrows.

She looks over at him, pulling her braids back and out of his hands.  “You are Mark Foley, correct?”

He nods slowly, mouth half hanging open.  “I like the way you say my name, doll.”

“My name is Sade.  Your friend here made arrangements for us to...get to know each other a little better…”  Sade bites her lip, using her almond shaped eyes to invite Foley into the possibility.

He didn’t need too much convincing as he clapped his hands looking over at his associate.  “You sly dog!  You planned this for me?”

He shrugs. “Nothing but the best, for the man who holds my old hood in his hands.”  Raising the bottle up again in solidarity, Foley springs up out of the booth, grabbing Sade by the waist.

“This EXACTLY what I need!  Let’s not delay, drop those glasses at the bar and let’s boogie!”  Foley exclaims, leading Sade along and leaving his associate with the bill.

Foley’s hands were lit up over Sade’s body, feeling her soft and firm portions of her body with no shame as she led him to the quieter, private rooms in the bottom level of the club.  A black door marked with the number 8 in gold is where Sade took them before pausing to turn around and face him, snapping her fingers to regain his sober attention.

“Once we cross this threshold, you will need to behave yourself.  I won’t ask you again, otherwise consequences will be set.”  She says calmly.

Foley looks around the hallway, rubbing his hands together before whispering.  “Whatever you say, mistress.  I am at your command.”  His Dad-bod practically vibrated with excitement as she opened the door.  As it closed with a clang, Foley peers around to inspect the various chains, harnesses, chairs with binding mechanisms that decorated the room.

“Whew, this is-”

“SHUT UP!”  Sade yelled with a crack of a whip.  Foley turned around quickly in shock.

“Sade, I wasn’t-”

“Are you speaking out of turn after an order?”  Sade snarls.  In the midst of Foley looking around the room, she has put on a black lace mask covering her face and a nine tailed whip in one hand with ropes in the other.  

Foley shakes his head excitedly.  “My apologies!”

“Turn around and get on your knees.”  Sade says walking around the perimeter of the room like a lioness tracking her prey.  Foley does as he is told, fitting the profile of sub perfectly as he avoids eye contact.

“You are a stupid, worm-grubbing quim aren’t you?”  Sade says matter of factly, playing with the nine-tails in front of him.

Foley nods aggressively.

“ANSWER ME!  Don’t you have a tongue?!” Sade demands, this time cracking the whip across Foley’s arm.  

He shrieks.  “Agh!  Yes! Yes mistress, I am!  I do!”

“Hm, we’ll see about that later...Do you have a problem with authority?”  Foley stammers, not sure how to answer.  “A man of such wealth and status must know a thing or two about breaking rules….Are you going to break mine?”

“No mistress.  I’ll listen to every word!”  

Sade puts her heel into his chest, leaning against him on her knee as she speaks in his face.  “Have you ever let a Black person tell you what to do?”

Once again, Foley is at a loss for words as Sade runs a gloved hand through his thin, short strands of hair, before bringing the palm of her hand square across his cheek with a hard SLAP.

“That ends today.  Tell me Black Lives Matter.”  Sade commands with a dig of her heel that makes him wince.

“Ahh, Bl-Black Lives Matter.”  Foley says hesitantly.

Sade takes her foot off of him before cracking the whip on him again.  “LOUDER!”

“Black Lives Matter!  Thank God, they matter!”  Foley says more enthusiastically.

Sade looks him over with disgust.  “Take off your clothes as you recite every Black person you know that has contributed to the fabric of our nation.  Go!”

Foley starts with the buttons on his jacket and an ode to Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr.  (Sade had to whip him for leaving off the Jr.)  getting down to his briefs before stuttering on names, giving up before after he said Bill Cosby, holding his hands in front of his manhood.

“It’s not cold, put your hands down!”  Sade demanded.

He does do quickly, looking embarrassed at the small protrusion he can’t seem to control.

Sade shakes her hand tutting him.  “I’m glad you’re having fun.  It’s a shame though, how little you know.  The American private school system really failed you.  However I am in a generous mood and have every  intention on catching you up to speed.  With a little help from a friend.”

On cue, the door opens and in walks his associate.  

Foley protests.  “Whoa, hey, this may have been incorrect info you got.  I’m not into THAT.”  

Sade grips his hair at the root.  “Have my boot as a snack while the adults talk.”  Stomping her foot in front of him, Foley bends down on the concrete floor to kiss and lick her shoe.

Sade sighs, wiping her brow.  “Babysitting is so hard.  What took you so long Erik?”

He unbuttons his jacket sighing.  “His fucking card wouldn’t go through upstairs.  So this muthafucka owe me his life and some change now.”  

Erik picks up Foley’s pants, ruffling through his pockets for his wallet.

“Whoa, bro, what are you doing?  You aren’t a part of this!”  Foley says.  

Sade was not pleased with this interruption, bringing her boot around to land it squarely with his chin.  The crack of the impact echoed in the room as Foley flopped on his back, writhing in pain.

“What...the….FUCK!”  He yells out, blood starting to coat his fingers.

“Damn, Sade!”  Erik exclaimed, staring at his girl.

Sade inspects her boot.  “Shit, he got a damn scuff in it, now I’m really pissed.  Tie his ass up so we can move on.”  

Erik handles Foley like a ragdoll, turning him over and using Sade’s ropes to tie his hands behind his back.

“You fucking niggers don’t know who you’re dealing with!”  Foley says through clenched teeth.  

Erik pulls him up by his arms over to a part of the wall with a collar and chain attached to it.  Turning Foley around, he hooks his neck up to the contraption.

“You really want them to be your last words, bitch ass cunt?”   Erik says, tightening the collar on the last possible notch.   “Gotta use they language to get to em sometimes.”  Erik says to Sade.

Foley laughs nervously as tears fill his eyes.  “I could make you rich, man.  Get your mom out the ghetto.  You got any siblings?  You could take them anywhere!  I’ll turn your life around in ways you never seen, just let me out of here with this bitch!”

Sade sits on a stool trying to buff out the mark on her shoe.  “Erik, his voice is annoying me…”  She says in a sing-songy manner.  

Erik pulls out Foley’s phone from his pants pocket, holding it up to his face to unlock it.  

“Fuck!  I shoulda known that facial unlock would bite me in the ass.”

Erik opens his camera to take some pictures.  “Aww, shit!  You finna be the Belle of the Ball once these circulate through your contacts.  No way your bros at the Capitol can clean this mess up.”  Erik laughs, showing the gallery to Foley, who is whining for mercy.

“Come on!  Don’t do this!  Let’s talk this over!  You need some money?  Let me give you something something, and we can work this out.  No harm no foul!”

“Give him your bank login, we’ll handle the rest.”  Sade instructs from across the room.”

Foley shifts, blinking the sweat out of his eyes.  “I-I mean, you don’t wanna give me a figure first-”

Erik sends a strong blow to Foley’s gut, knocking the wind and dignity out of him.

“O...k…” Foley rasps as he coughs through his username and password for Erik to set up a transfer.

“Thanks for the paycheck, bro.”  Erik, takes some leather gloves off of a table, sliding them, flexing his fingers.  “No way in hell you can help me while you still got breath in your body.  And ain’t shit you can do for me.  That neighborhood you wanna run over so fuckin bad ain’t yours to take.  White folks can’t never miss out on a land deal, fuckin colonizers.”

Foley struggled against his bindings, becoming agitated.  “I am providing a service!  Something that will make their world better!”

Erik punches the wall next to his head, cracking the concrete.  “A world you ain’t got no plan to let them in?  They already got a place to stay, and you want them outta there cuz the living is too cheap and they barely affording that.  So instead of working for them, you’re just gonna build shit that they can’t afford, segregating them even more until they gotta leave.  Turning half the shit into fucking parking lots any damn way.”

Foley breathes heavily, swallowing hard.  “It’s so disappointing to hear you settling for less, bro.  It really is…”

Sade comes up behind Erik, handing him a club and brass knuckles.  

“I don’t need that shit, I got this.”  Erik insists with a wink.

Sade rolls her eyes.  “Try not to get blood on your clothes.  We have dinner reservations in an hour.”

As Erik takes off his jacket and dress shirt. Foley says, “Aye, what was it you said before?  Roaches always surviving?  What’s it to you when they’ll find another hole to crawl into?  Making babies and killing themselves, it’s the circle of life.  I'm just tired of seeing your Black asses fucking with my city.”

Erik reaches behind his back near his waistband to swiftly take take out his military issue knife, grabbing Foley by his neck, slamming his head into the wall.  As Foley neck folds sheath his hand, Erik brings the knife slowly to his eye socket as Foley closes his eyelids tightly.  That only makes the process more messy as he screams in excruciating pain while Erik skillfully gouges him.

“There.  Now you aint gotta see shit. That better?”  Sade says, walking away at this point when all she heard was the pounding of Erik’s fist in bone.  Foley’s feebled cries in pain didn’t last long when Erik socked him in his mouth, making him swallow his own teeth.  Sounded as if he even indulged in the knuckles and the club after all, as he dared Foley to say something again, until it was impossible to do so Sade sat in her seat, reviewing her manicure as the cacophony of pounds into Foley’s body turned soft.

Erik’s breathing was the only thing left as he made his way back over to Sade with a wild nature in his eyes, and blood coating his knuckles and face.

“Ohhh, look at you!  You’re never careful when I ask you to!”  Sade scolds him as she pulls out a handkerchief and water, wiping down his hands.

“You know how I get carried away in the moment.”  Erik says, voice gravelly as he stares at Sade.

Sade finishes off his hands, reaching for his face to clean.  “Mhm, I know.  Lucky for you, I brought a spare undershirt to change.  What about your pants…”  Sade brushed some dust near his crotch, feeling his dick twitch under her touch.  “That is enough!  I’m not cancelling this dinner.  It's been weeks in the making!”

Erik bites his lip, leaning over Sade as she digs through her bag.  “You blaming me when you out here dressed like that, kicking white folks in the face and not expecting me to wanna fuck you for that?”

Sade reaches for the collar of his shirt, tearing it halfway off his him with a blade between her teeth.  She takes it and aims it over his chest.  “You know how we celebrate…”

Applying pressure, she drags it slowly across his skin, red liquid bubbling along the length of the cut as Erik seethed.  The satisfying release of his skin allowing the penetration of her blade made her breath hitch in her chest. “We got another one, we mark the occasion.  Without him contacting his people in DC, no way they can settle a vote to gentrify now.”  

Sade runs her thumb along the blood trickling out, wiping it clean before bring her face in his chest to lick his wound.  The soft, muskiness of his skin is too tempting for her to let go as she caresses his chest.

Erik sighs deeply, taking one hand to grab her ass and the other wraps her braids around its knuckles pulling her face back as he devours her mouth hungrily.  Erik lifts her up and onto a nearby table with a thud, pulling her skirt up to her waist as she reaches to free him from his trousers.

“Ooh, dont make me scar your back up now.  This is lucky number 57?”  Sade chuckles as Erik brings ankles to his shoulders, leaning over her.

The way Erik looks at her, one might think she was his sworn enemy.  But this is Erik’s favorite time with Sade.  Not just fucking, but taking out white folks that aren’t doing shit for anyone but themselves, leaving a trail of dead brown and black bodies behind them.  Doing this vigilante justice together never got old.

“Try me. And a lot more to come.”  Erik promises as Sade kisses his keloid riddled arm, biting down once he entered her.

Sade peppered Erik with affection as they fucked.  Their roles easily switched from business to pleasure.  Sade being the brains behind most of the operations, and Erik being the muscle, all he needed was to be told where to go and he had the rest.  But as lovers, Erik took control of her, and she needed that change of pace.  

As Erik reaches for her throat, he put his weight on her, lapping at her neck as he digs her out desperately.  Sade gasped with each stroke he dropped inside of her, seeing stars as her breath quickened.  Her head fell to one side as she got a full view of the damage Erik did to Foley’s body.  The bruising, the bone jutting from his skin, blood pooling near his collapsed skull was all too much for Sade.   She came so hard, Erik nearly slipped in her wetness flooding between them, tightening up on Erik until he contributed his own fluids to their celebration.

Erik lays still on top of her panting.  “How much time left we got on the room?”

Sade rubs his back, still smooth but hopefully not for long once they continue their mission.  “45 minutes.”  She smacks his shoulders, willing him to roll off of her.  “You’re cleaning up by yourself this time.  Your dick is making me miss dinner, I’ve suffered enough.”

Erik laughs slow and deeply as he rubs his face, satisfied all the same.  “You need a mop-iana?”

RagTag  (it’s been so long since I wrote, I’m forgetting who likes to be tagged)

@chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @wakanda-inspired

[thadelightfulone]

What's A Valentine?

So, here is my submission for the With Love, From Wakanda Fic Fest hosted by @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots. This is definitely me trying something new, so I hope you all enjoy it. My prompt - “Can somebody escort the 30-year old having a temper tantrum out of the building?”

Running her hands down her dress, Danielle gave herself one last look in the mirror.  “Come on Dani girl; I know you ask why you do this year after year, but it is a small price to pay. We can do this and then go back to our regularly scheduled program tomorrow.” Smoothing out her favorite long-sleeved empire waist high-lo dress in black that shows off her thick milk chocolate legs adorned in her light purple Maryjane 4-inch stilettos; she inhaled deeply calming her nerves. She finished the look off with her silver hoops and amethyst pendant. She hears a faint ringing sound and walks over to the comm by her bedroom door, “Yes.”

“Miss Danielle, he’s here.”

“Thank you, Sergio. I’ll be right down.” Walking over to her dresser Danielle picks up her clutch, double checking the contents and pops her lips in the mirror to blend her purple lipstick again. “One night, that’s it.”

—

He was rushing so that he was not caught in the LA traffic with everyone trying to make it to the fanciest of restaurants for their reservations. Grateful that he had the flowers delivered to his office before he left. It had been a long day of meetings, but he could not wait to see her.

Enjoying the view of passing trees, he didn’t realize how much he missed her, and he wanted her to know. It was time for him to stop hiding. He messed up years ago and knows he should have handled things differently. He is only hoping he isn’t too late.

He pulls up to her building and parks in the structure underneath. He grabs the flowers, removes his tie, and quickly glances at himself through the window. “Ok, it’s now or never. She needs to know that you are serious. Tonight is the night.” Approaching the concierge at the front desk, he notices a man overloaded with all things Valentine-related. “You need some help man?” Reaching for the stuffed bear that was about to fall out of the guy’s arms.

“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it.” He lifts himself back up to his full height and sets the rest of the items on the counter. Pulling a small box out of his jacket pocket, and opening it quickly. “I just needed to make sure I had this on me.”

“She must be a lucky woman.” The stranger passed the bear over to him, and the other guy put it in front of the ridiculously huge bouquet of red and pink roses, and the box of candy on the counter. It looked like the bear was supposed to hold that. “Big night ahead?”

“Yeah, this is the night. We’ve been together for almost 4 years now, and I can’t think of anyone else I want to spend my life with, ya know?”

“That’s beautiful man. She must love Valentine’s Day with all you have here.”

“Oh, does she! That’s what makes her perfect for me.”

Nodding in response, he leans over and speaks with the concierge, “Could you call up to Danielle George’s apartment.” The gift-baring gentleman next to him stops what he is doing.

“Ahhhh, I would sir, but she is already on her way down to the lobby,” Sergio replies. Nodding, the stranger looks towards the elevator.

“So, you know Danielle?”

“Yeah, we grew up together in Oakland.”

Eyeing the flowers in the other man’s hands, black and purple roses wrapped in a silver ribbon. He continues to stare the man down as he takes in his slightly disheveled yet professional look, a black tailored suit, unbuttoned shirt, and expensive loafers. “You must be Erik.”

“Do I know you?” Erik asks, trying to think where he would know a guy stupid enough to carry all that shit instead of having it sent to his girl. He shakes his dreads pushing them off to one side of his head.

“No, but I know about you. Dani speaks of you often.” He straightens up and holds his hand out. “I’m Shaun, her boyfriend.”

Erik takes his hand and shakes it, “Nice to meet you.” They are similar in height and skin tone but not in build, although Erik had his military career to thank for filling him out. Erik cannot imagine how Dani ended up with a guy like this. Goofy is the only word he can use to describe the nigga in front of him.

Shaun is looking at the flowers in Erik’s hands again and rolls his eyes, “You know I have to ask. Why would a guy send his best friend black roses or dead flowers for Valentine’s Day? That just doesn’t seem appropriate or loving for that matter.”

Releasing a hearty laugh, “It’s a joke between friends. I have been doing it for a while now, so it’s automatic. If she asked me to, I would stop.”

“So, what brings you by this year instead of the usual delivery?”

“I’m in town on business and thought I would bring them to her in-person. It’s been a while since we’ve hung out.”

The elevator chimes letting them know that someone came down. Danielle steps out of the car looking to see Shaun with his big stupid grin and whatever lovey-dovey gifts he brought, but stops short when she sees him standing next to Erik. She hisses, “Shit, goddamnit!” Speaking so no one else can hear, “Deep breaths, Dani girl. It’s fine, everything is fine.” She smiles and waves at them. Counting to slow down her erratic heartbeat before she walks towards the waiting men.

Shaun steps back allowing Erik to greet her first. He walks forward to meet her halfway, holding the flowers up in front of his face to hide his smirk. She snatches the flowers from his hand and inhales their scent before speaking, “Mr. Stevens, and to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“Miss George, or is it Mrs. now?” Squinting her eyes at his statement, Erik continues, ”Well, I am in town and wanted to deliver them to you myself. Although, I was not expecting this.” His hand follows his eyes as he takes in her outfit from head to toe. “Guess, I got the flowers right this time,” he winks at her, flashing his gold canines.

Shaking her head, “I’m not…nope,” she walks over to Shaun with Erik on her heels. “Hey baby!” She pulls him in for a big hug and pecks his lips. “Is all this for me?” Her face drops, but she recovers quickly. “Thank you.” Turning back to Erik, she goes on, “Did you meet Erik?”

“Yes, I had the pleasure.” He pulls her close to him, wrapping his arm around her waist. She rolls her eyes but keeps the painted smile on her face as the two men silently standoff.

Erik shakes his head, “Dani girl, is there something I am missing?”

“E, don’t start, please. Can you just text me and we can plan lunch for another day before you leave?”

“D, it’s me. I won’t be mad but come on now, you dressed for a funeral to go out.”

“Really nigga? I am not doing this right now,” she huffs. “And definitely not with you.”

“Dani, relax sweetie.” He squeezes her waist. “Erik, I am not sure what you want from her, but we have plans for the evening,” Shaun eyes his inner jacket pocket returning his gaze to Erik, “And I need them to be perfect, ya know what I’m saying. So, just ease up, ok.”

“Yeah, I know, and that’s why I am doing this. Danielle, tell the truth because you look mad uncomfortable and I know it ain’t because of me.”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell him that I HATE VALENTINE’S DAY! Well, there it is…I said it, you happy now E?”

Shaun’s arm drops from her waist, “You what? That can’t be right because I think I would have known if the love of my life hated my favorite day of the year.”

Dani turns to look at him, placing her hand on his chest, “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I do not like this day at all. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“How? Why? Who doesn’t enjoy being pampered with love on this day? Who hurt you?” Danielle looks down at her feet avoiding Shaun’s pleading eyes. “Dani, please. Look at me baby, tell me something.”

“Dani girl,” Erik starts.

Looking up at Erik, “No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to come here making requests of anybody. I am happy, and here you come trying to ruin shit like this wasn’t already your damn fault anyway.”

“What? Danielle, you cannot be serious right now? I thought we were over that and had moved on.”

“Moved on, who moved on Erik? You?” Stepping away from the both of them, “You want to know who hurt me and why I hate this fucking day? Fine.”

Shaun looks over to Erik who shrugs at him while looking at Dani.

“Picture this, 15-year-old Danielle who had never been kissed or had any kind of relationship. Rumors flying around about who she may or may not like, but no one really knew. She decides that Valentine’s Day was the perfect day to reveal her crush because hey, who doesn’t want to find out someone is digging on them, ya know?” She shrugs stepping forward poking Erik in the chest and staring right at him. “And you know what he says to her? He looks her dead in the face and says that he isn’t feeling her like that and just wants to remain friends.”

“D,”

“No, you want me to tell the truth…be honest and shit, right? I am, so let me finish. I buried my feelings and didn’t tell anyone that I told him or what he said. I went back to just being his damn friend until I couldn’t.” Looking down and away, she looks over to Shaun. “The bastard didn’t even tell me that he got early acceptance to Annapolis and was gone three weeks later. Just dis-ap-fuckin-peared without a word, no goodbye, no letter, nothing. Until my first delivery of black and dead red roses after I graduated from college, only one person would know that this day was ruined for me. I knew then who it was and I let it be what it was because I still had my friend,” she shrugs. “But now, I have you, Shaun.”

Erik cringes seeing the tears that had started to blur her vision. 15 years later and the girl, now a grown ass woman, he left behind is still hurting over him. He rubs his hand through his dreads wondering if this was even a good idea anymore as he watched the two of them together.

Shaun steps forward to grab her hands in his own. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me? You know how much this day means to me.”

“Is this a sticking point for you? Seriously? I am the same woman you love.”

“It’s my mother’s birthday and my parent’s 50th anniversary. You knew today was important and you couldn’t just keep this in for one more damn day.” Shaun exclaimed while running his hand over his head.

“Muthafucker, I am down here and dressed the fuck up. I didn’t do this shit for me. I would rather be in my comfy sweats, eating ice cream and watching horror flicks.” Dani screams as she wipes at the tears that started running down her face.

Shaun continues, “Today! Tonight! All I wanted is one fucking day, and you couldn’t even give me that.”

Erik watches the bickering couple go back and forth about a stupid day. He looks over at Sergio who is just as confused by them. “Yo, can somebody escort the 30-year-old having a temper tantrum out of the building?”

“Which one?” Sergio snorts looking between the two animated people drawing attention from other residents. “This is a mess and in the middle of the lobby, too. It’s killing my vibe. It also sounds like something more than just today.”

Erik nods his head in agreement, “I. Got. Her. You just worry about his crybaby ass.”

“Yes sir.” He picks up the phone, “Grover, can you come to the lobby, please. We need a situation handled. Thank you.” Sergio replaces the receiver, offering Erik a piece of gum while they wait.

“And what was I supposed to think, you accepted all the gifts I ever gave you. You took them, but you hate what they represent. Make it make sense Danielle!” Soft whimpers come from her as she looks away. Shaun notices the death grip she has on Erik’s bouquet. “WAIT! You trash them as soon as you get them inside, don’t you? Fresh flowers that should last at least two weeks and I never see them again. But those fucking black roses or dead flowers are showcased on your mantel.” He steps back from Dani as the Security guard walks up.

“Is everything ok here?” Grover interjects, “I am going to have to ask the non-resident to leave the premises now.”

Shaun looks at Danielle who can barely keep her eyes on him and throws his hands up. “Yeah, no problem. I’m out.” She tries to grab his hand, but he pulls out of her grasp. “No, I just need time Dani. I can’t do this tonight. I gotta go anyways.” He turns and lets Grover lead him to the front door.

Bumping Dani’s shoulder, she is reminded that Erik is still there. “Asshole!” She says just loud enough for him to hear. Walking over to the countertop, “Sergio, if it isn’t a delivery person with my food, then do not bother calling me any more tonight. I have had enough excitement for the evening.” He nods silently at her. She turns back in time to see Shaun exit the building, “And throw all this shit away.” Running her hands along the counter, she shakes her head and briskly moves toward the elevator.

Erik grabs her arm before she pushes the call button. “Dani girl. Look at me.” She stops and slowly turns towards him. He freezes as her big brown bloodshot eyes look up at him. Inhaling deeply, he completes his train of thought, “Join me for dinner. You can’t let that outfit to go to waste.”

Pulling away from him, she wraps her arms around herself. “Are you asking me out? And on fucking Valentine’s Day?”

“Nah, I would never. But I’m saying you gotta eat, and I gotta eat. There is no reason that we have to eat alone since I am here.”

“E,” she drags out fumbling with his bouquet.

“Come on D. If you really want the ice cream and horror flicks; we can do that, too. But let me feed you a decent meal.”

She grabs his handkerchief out of his jacket pocket to dab at her eyes. “You know that I hate you right?”

Walking forward to link her arm with his offered one, Erik smiles down at her, giving her a peck on the cheek. “I know you do, Dani girl.”

“But you are right about this dress; I look too damn good. So, come on.”

Leading her through the lobby towards the front door, “Besides, we have a few things to discuss Best Friend.”

Can We Talk

[goddessofthundathighs]

Carry On

My submission for the With Love, From Wakanda fic fest. This story has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally figured out a way to end it. It’s set back when Hennessy and Erik were at MIT and is written from her POV.

Warning: Fluffy Angst? Is that a thing? Just go with it. Brief, and somewhat graphic description of a miscarriage. Also, the photos used below are not my own.

__________________________

The Kompound was all abuzz as Erik ushered Angel and the twins into the house. The birth of the prince and princess was a bittersweet moment for me. Though I was ecstatic for our new additions and I was happy for my sister wife and Erik, I couldn’t get over the slight bit of jealousy I felt towards her. While the rest of the family surrounded Angél, each one fighting over who would hold the twins first, I retired to my bedroom, not wanting to appear bitter. As I lay across my bed staring up at the ceiling, the soft pads of footsteps attracted my attention. He never could sneak up on me.

“Sunshine?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your house, Daka.”

“Come on now, don’t be like that. I just came to check on you.”

I shrugged, turning so that I was facing away from him.

“I’ll be alright, I just needed a little time to myself. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.” He crawled into my bed, pulling me into his massive arms.

“Talk to me, Princess.”

—

It was an awkwardly warm day in Cambridge, Massachusetts and instead of enjoying the warm weather at the annual campus pool party, I was in my apartment throwing up my entire existence for the 3rd time today. What the hell is wrong with me?

The sickness began right after Christmas, but I hadn’t thought much of it. That is, until I missed my period. I can’t possibly be...

I gagged and heaved until my throat burned before finally settling on the floor beside the toilet. I opened the cabinet under the sink and retrieved the pink box that I had thrown under there for such an occasion. I reluctantly pulled the test out and followed the instructions printed on the box. After waiting the suggested 5 minutes, I looked down at the stick in horror.

“Pregnant,” I whispered out loud. I had just begun the first year of my graduate program and my “partner” for lack of a better term, was in and out of town with the Navy. I sold weed to make a living and he was a mercenary for the US government, neither of which screamed ideal parents for an unborn human. Nope, it had to be a fluke, a false positive. I was in the process of banging my head against the wall of the bathroom when a pair of perfectly pearly white teeth and gold canines filled my phone screen.

“Yes my love?”

“Wassup Princess, still not feeling good?” I could hear laughing and water splashing in the background, a tell-tell sign that he was at the party and wanted me to join him.

“Nah, I just threw up again.”

“Aight that’s it, we going to the hospital.”

“No! That’s really not necessary. It’s probably just a stomach virus.”

“All the more reason for me to take you to the doctor. You not getting me sick. Put some clothes on, I’ll be there in 10.”

The line disconnected before I could utter another word of protest. Though I was thankful to have someone like Erik in my life that cared for my physical well-being, I knew I wasn’t ready to have my worst fears confirmed by an official test. I slowly stood up from the floor and made my way to my bedroom. I pulled on one of his wife beaters and a pair of his basketball shorts, my go-to choice when I wanted to be comfortable. True to his word, he pulled up 10 minutes later and helped me down the stairs and into his NSX.

The lights of the hospital were bright and unnerving as we sat in the waiting room.

“Chiron? Hennessy Chiron?”

“That’s me,” I called as I followed the woman to the exam room. We went through the usual hospital semantics before she gave me a small plastic cup to pee in. Well, no turning back now.

Much to my dismay, Erik sat in the exam room the entire time, wanting to know every detail of what was said firsthand. I hated it, how protective he was over me. This was one instance I wished he treated me like his usual smash and dash hoes. He held my hand as the doctor entered the room, smiling bright.

“Congratulations, according to our tests, you’re about 8 weeks pregnant!” I groaned loudly and I just knew that Erik was having a mental breakdown until his deep voice broke the silence.

“I’m gonna be a daddy?”

“Yes sir, you’re gonna be a daddy. Mom doesn’t look too thrilled about the news, though.”

“N-No I’m fine. I’m just processing everything,” I replied with a shaky voice. He could tell I was lying, but chose to kept quiet. He knew I’d speak up when I was ready and I knew he’d be ok with whatever decision I made moving forward.

--

“You know you cute as fuck carrying my baby,” Erik’s deep voice called from the phone that was propped up on my nightstand. He was away on another JSOC mission, but facetimed me nightly to check on me and our unborn baby. I was only 3 ½ months, but he swore my skin was glowing and my face was getting fatter. I hated it.

“Well you better enjoy this one, because this the only one you getting from me,” I pouted, looking down at my hardening stomach. I never admitted it to Erik, but I was terrified. How could someone that didn’t have a family, raise a child? I didn’t want our baby to grow up with the same questions and fears that I had.

“Get out ya head, Princess. You’re gonna be a great mother.”

“How do you always do that?”

“You’re my best friend, Sunshine. I always know what you’re thinking, especially since you can’t control your facial expressions for shit,” he grinned, flashing that smile I loved so much.

“We miss you,” I confessed.

“I miss y’all too, but Daddy will be home next week.” I smiled at that. The apartment was too quiet without him there and I missed my nightly belly rubs.

“Get some rest, Princess. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Yes Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you more.” He blew a kiss at the screen before disconnecting the line. I snuggled deeper into the covers, wrapped myself in one of his hoodies and dozed off, dreaming about what life would be like once the little bean was born.

Pain. A sharp, piercing pain in my lower abdomen that was so strong it woke me from my sleep. I lifted myself from the bed and made the short journey to the bathroom. I fumbled for the lightswitch and gripped the edge of the sink as the cramps became more and more intense. I was mortified when I pulled down my panties to see them soaked with blood.

“This can’t be happening,” I thought aloud. I had just recently come to terms with the fact that there was a life growing inside of me only for the universe to decide that I didn’t need it. As I sat on the toilet and my body expelled the remaining parts of my unborn child, I began to weep. I was hurt, both mentally and physically and to make matters worse, my comforter was somewhere on the other side of the world defending a country that didn’t give a damn about us. I was angry, more angry than I had been in a long time and although I knew that situations like this happen for a number of reasons, I couldn’t help but feel like this was completely my fault. Like the universe was punishing me for being so ungrateful for such a precious gift.

“Princess, I’m home.” Oh now you’re just fucking with me, Bastet. As usual, I heard him before I saw him, his combat boots pounding heavily on the hardwood floors of the apartment. His expression quickly turned to panic when he entered the bathroom and saw the blood all over the floor.

“What happened?”

“I lost it, E. I lost our baby,” I wept into the bend of his neck. He didn’t speak, but stroked my back in comfort.

“It’s ok, baby,” he finally said after a while. “It’s ok. We have the rest of our lives to try again.”

“Who said I wanted to deal with you for that long?” I asked, chuckling through my tears.

“Girl please, you know you ain’t going nowhere,” he replied with a swift kiss to my forehead. I couldn’t argue with that logic. He was a permanent fixture of my life that I couldn’t possibly imagine living without. “Why don’t I run you a hot bath and get you cleaned up? I’ll even add that milk and honey bubble bath you like so much.”

“I’d like that a lot. Thanks, Erik.”

“Aye, just because you ain’t carrying my baby no more don’t mean you gotta stop calling me Daddy. I like that shit,” he said with a wide grin.

“Of course you do.”

--

We had been lying together so long that I didn’t even realize that I was crying until I felt his hand brush away a tear.

“You remember what I told you back then?” he asked as he placed a kiss to the top of my head.

“You said that you’d love me forever, with or without a baby.”

“And I meant that shit. Angel and I know how you feel about the twins, baby girl. We all know it’s going to be a bit of an adjustment, but don’t ever hide your feelings from me, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good,” he responded before licking a long stripe from my chin to my forehead.

“Nigga did you just lick me?”

“Yes I did, now bring ya fine ass downstairs and meet our kids.”

__________________________

@vibranium-soul @imagine-mbaku @mareethequeen @greennightspider @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @blackpantherismyish @muse-of-mbaku @thehomierobbstark @wifeyofnjadaka @youreadthatright @tgigoldie @killmongersgurl @dameshaemonique @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @amethyst1993 @iamrheaspeaks @laketaj24 @bidibidibombaclaat @allhailnjadaka @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @forbeautyandlife @yaachtynoboat711 @panthergoddessbast @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @dacreskars @thadelightfulone @drsunshine97 @wakanda-inspired @wawakanda-btch @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @ayellepea @awkwardlyabstract @madamslayyy @blowmymbackout @vikkidc @champagnesugamama @sociallyawkward18 @trevantesbrat @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @supersizemeplz

[yaachtynoboat711]

Our Next Guest...

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots With Love, From Wakanda fic fest! I’m so excited to temporarily break from Fonder’s angsty chains and coming with that present-day Yaa and Wins! I apologize for the tardiness of this fic, as I started my new job this week. I had to dust this off from the depths of my archives due to the time crunch. I was going to do my M’Baku x OC, but my time was limited.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Fluff, Black Love

Prompt: “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Only twice in the past hour.”

“Chris, I’m fucking terrified.”,you huffed.

You were in your dressing room getting ready to finally begin your Sheimbloom press junket. The first stop was Jimmy Kimmel Live, one of your favorite talk shows. You’d been delaying the tour for personal reasons. Now, it was here and you were going alone. Winston was in the middle of a project in New York. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day. It sucked knowing that Winston couldn’t make it, however,it was worth knowing that he was being supportive and giving you advice on TV interviews. You’d had many a print interview, but never a TV interview.

“Baby, you’ll do fine. You’re a lawyer: you orate for a living. Plus, you love Jimmy, so this’ll be a breeze.”, Winston reassured via FaceTime.

��Yeah, you’re right...I guess.”

“You’re damn right I’m right. I can’t recall a time I was ever wrong. ”

“Well shit I can.”, you smirked, earning an annoyed huff and eye roll from your fiancé.

“ANYWAYS, are you going to indirectly promote Us?”

“Hasn't it already been promoted enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean,Yaa Denae?” One of the production assistants walked in at the perfect moment.

“Dr. Abdullah, we’re ready for you.”, the PA said.

“Well, won’t you look at the time! I love you, baby love!”,Yaa said in a hurry.

“I love you, too, Pumpkin. Gimme love.” The two of you did your secret handshake despite the distance and he hung up.

“K.D., you two are just too cute for words.”, your assistant Talia gushed as you handed her your phone.

You walked out of your dressing room along with Talia and your other assistant Jacqui to the backstage area.

When you got backstage, you found a mirror to check yourself out and posed for your OOTD post. Winston picked your outfit: simple black blouse with matching flared pants and a Tuskegee crimson and old gold striped ascot (your choice,of course). He even picked out the leopard pumps. That man had an eye for fashion. Your curly platinum locs were pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Dr. Abdullah, you’re up in 60 seconds!”, you heard the PA announce. “Thank you!”, you replied. You took this time to recite your affirmation to yourself:

I am enough;I am here for a reason;I am here to slay; I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams!

Finally, you walked into the elevator as you heard the countdown and studio applause before hearing Jimmy’s introduction. “Welcome back! Our next guest is no stranger to shattering glass ceilings. In addition to graduating valedictorian of Yale Law School at the age of 23,yeah, twen-ty three, this past July, she became the youngest and the first Black woman to win the Richard T. Sheimbloom Award for Merit and Excellence in Law--the highest award for any lawyer in the world to receive. Please, help me welcome for the first time, Attorney Khalida Abdullah!”

The audience erupted into cheer, but not before the elevator door slid open to you doing that little Thotiana jig. You waved to the audience and gave them your brightest Miss Tuskegee smile. You strutted your way towards Jimmy and hugged him before sitting down. “Well...”, Jimmy began, “...happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to the show, Attorney Abdullah.” The audience continued their clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much,Jimmy! Happy V-Day to you! Please call me K.D.. Can I just say that one, this is a dream come true to be on the show and two, I need to carry this audience in my pocket because they really--” they all screamed and you smiled as you glanced towards the audience once more, “--they really helped me overcome my nerves just now and this energy y’all are giving me is every damn thing to me.”

“Well, I’m happy that’s something that helped ease you. So let’s jump right on in: what made you want to become a lawyer?”

“You know, not a lot of people have asked me that question.”

Jimmy’s head bucked back in disbelief, “Really?”

“Yeah, so believe it or not, the OJ trial inspired me to go into law. I was about 5 years old and I see Johnnie Cochran, a Black man, and Marcia Clark, a woman, working the case. I guess I was trying to figure out why weren’t there any Black Women working this case. Even after the case, I didn’t meet a Black female lawyer until I was in college. Sometimes, you gotta be your own role model.” The audience applauded your answer.

“That’s something to really live by. Now fast-forward to this past July: what’s going through your mind before and after hearing your name called for the Sheimbloom?”

“Maaaaan, I was a complete wreck and a tad tipsy from the wine they put on the table. I had my umi and Winston’s hands in vise grips. For clarification, Winston Duke, y’know…”,you looked dead into camera 1, “...THICC DADDY M’Baku? Anyways, everything’s going in slow motion, so my reaction was about 10 seconds slower than what it should’ve been. Now, the Chairman didn’t actually announce my name per se.”

Jimmy and the audience laughed. “So...are you the 2018 Sheimbloom winner or not?”, he joked. “Jimmy, listen! Winston, along with some of his fellow Jabari actors, started barking like they did in the Warrior Falls scene? It wasn’t until Winston let go of my hand and literally took his scarf to bark did I realize I’d won.” The audience cheered as a picture of your raw reaction to winning appeared on the screen behind you. Your red eyes were bugged out, mouth ajar, both hands placed on your chest. That feeling of victory began tingling throughout your body all over again .

“How’s life after winning?”

“To be honest…I don’t really feel that much different. I worked that Monday after the ceremony and up until the middle of August because my partners essentially forced me on leave and sent me to L.A.”

“Why would they do that?” The audience laughed. You did too.

“Honey, I had been working like a madwoman from October up until they put me on leave.”

“Ah-a. So that leads me to the next question: what happened that night?” You smirked.

“Well, after giving my speech, I got whisked upstairs to take pictures with my award.” The screen behind you showed a picture of you holding your award up to your ear like a cell phone with one hand and showing off your rose gold slugs by pulling on your bottom lip with the other. You were squatting down and showing off your red sparkly pump.

“That’s one of the most epic pictures I’ve ever seen. What happened next?” The audience gassed you up with “Ow’s! and whistles..

“Wellllllllllllllll”, your toothy smile should have been the indication that it was about to go down, “I sneak away to the terrace for a breather because God knew I needed it. I’m out there and my Winston texts me asking me where I had gone, right? Long story short, he proposed. Afterwards, socialized for a little bit, and then Wins and I went to our favorite 24-hour diner like nothing even happened that night. So, that’s another reason I was out here in L.A.: he still lives here and we needed time to begin planning the wedding.” The audience went crazy with applause.

“So how’s the planning coming,”

“Uhh...it’s proving to be harder than we initially estimated. We don’t live together—he’s here in LA and I’m in DC. So with that being said, we can’t just meet at a central location at lunch and talk about flowers and what not. He’s big money now with his ever-filling schedule and I’m doing the damn thing too so we can’t just break. We try to reserve a weekend every month to devote our time and energy to planning. The few times we’ve actually come together, progress was def made.”

“One more question before the break: when’s the wedding date?”

You looked at him with your usual “Really, nigga?” face. “C’mon, Jimmy. I can’t just disclose something personal like that. We don’t want our special day to be a media circus. But the only thing I will say is that it’s in 2020.”, you teased.

“We’ll be back after the break.” The audience applauded until the director yelled “Cut!”

—————

“And we’re back! I’m here on this Valentine’s Day with the incomparable Khalida Abdullah, attorney and activist. Now earlier, you mentioned that your fiancé is none other than actor Winston Duke, who’s been on this show before.”, Jimmy explained. The ladies in the audience swooned.

“That’s correct! He’s currently doing press for his upcoming movie Us. Y’all should hit it up next month.”, you responded, trying to conceal the goofy smile forming.

“So one thing I failed to mention before the break was that you two are gracing the cover of Essence Magazine’s Black Love issue.”, Jimmy announced. The audience cheered. He propped the advance copy up that showed you and Winston posed together and serving faces.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, is it difficult being in a relationship with a man of growing international status?”

“Well, damn. I never even thought about that. Ummmm...no. If anything, our relationship is growing stronger. Life after Black Panther has, in a sense, caused us to strengthen our communication. I believe that our mutual communication is our greatest asset. We literally text each other our daily schedules and we have each other’s events and event reminders in other’s phones. We’re very transparent with one another.”

“So you don’t get jealous with other ladies throwing their panties at Winston?”

You shot Jimmy an unimpressed look. “Why get jealous when he’s in mine all the time?”, you said unphased, shrugging your shoulders, crossing your legs and drinking from your mug. The audience hooted and hollered.

"Welll, here's an Instagram picture of the two of you. Not quite like we just discussed but very cute. Does he get tired of the graduations and celebrations you drag him to? You taking his shine?"

A picture of you two came on the screen. It was the Instagram picture the two of you took at your graduation dinner this past spring. In your beautiful red off-shoulder African dress and doctoral cap and he in his khaki seersucker and unbuttoned white dress shirt, the two of you jokingly did the “prom pose” and he was kissing your neck. Your signature smile and red lip were on full display as you were mid-laugh. The audience awed as they felt the warmth and love you two shared in that moment.

“Nahhh...in his mind, he sees us as equally yoked. Whatever hustle I have, be it a speaking engagement, an award, or anything, he’s cheering me on 125%, and the same goes for me. So with anything in our lives, you’ll see one go all the way for the other. Metaphorically, no one has a bigger head between us.”

“But in the literal sense?”

“Oh, it’s definitely his ass.” Everyone including yourself burst out laughing. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re good arm candy for each other for events. I mean, look at us!”, you said enthusiastically as you pointed at the picture.

“Well, one more thing before we go: what’s on the agenda for Valentine’s Day?”, Jimmy inquired. You carefully thought about your answer. The thought of being away from your Teddy Bear on Valentine’s Day sucked ass.

“Well, unfortunately, he’s on his way to New York to tend to some business. Buuuut, in a perfect world, I’d be rushing to finish this interview and get ready to go out on a date or stay in, get into our pajamas, and watch Forensic Files all night long.”

“Well, once again, happy Valentine’s Day and congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished. Khalida Abdullah, everybody.”, Jimmy concluded. The audience stood up and cheered as you and Jimmy chatted it up until yhe break.

“Annnnd cut! Great job, Khalida!”, the producer yelled over the PA system.

“Not bad for your first interview.”, Jimmy complimented. You thanked him for the opportunity and were escorted backstage.

Jacqui was the first of your staff to welcome you backstage. “K.D. (you hated formalities with your staff), that was amazing! It’s crazy to think that you were terrified right before this and now look at you: mastered it like it was nothin’!”, she said as she hugged you deeply. You’d thanked her and you started walking back to your dressing room.

“I just wished that Wins could’ve been here, y’know?”, you whispered loud enough so Jacqui could hear. You opened the door and it hit something heavy, the door’s impact sounded as though the victim may have been a person. Your face scrunched in curiosity and your native New Orleans kicked in for this very moment. “Bitch, who the fuck?!”, you yelled. You stepped back to make sure you were going to the right dressing room. Yup, this is my dressing room. You slowly opened opened the door again.

Your confused expression remained on your face as you heard Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing softly. The lights were dimmed just enough that you could see Winston standing in the middle of the room looking the fuck good as usual. You ran to him, tightly hugging his torso. He took in the sweet scent of your loc oil and perfume and kissed the top of your locs. He could feel your chubby cheeks complimenting your candy apple red smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”, he whispered.

“You raggedy as fuck. Just want you to know that. I love you though. ”, you clapped back.

“I love you, too, but hoooooow?!”, Winston looked down into your teary light brown eyes. “New York, Winston? Really?”, you answered.

“Denver, Khalida? Really?, he shot back.

Silence. “Touché.”

Your staff recorded the entire exchange. Praise the ancestors for them. You looked over to the counter to see a large bouquet of your rose trifecta and Tropical Skittles, your personal favorite candy. Your favorite snack was sporting a burgundy suit with a tan turtleneck.

“Now, I was in a crunch trying to get here, but I figured you’d appreciate the Tropical Skittles over the originals, even though Skittles are your favorite regardless.”, he explained. You shook your head as you heard his explanation.

“God, I love you, Winston.” He kissed your fivehead before giving your lips the same attention.

“I love you even more, Pumpkin.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”, you asked.

“Only twice in the past hour. ”, he teased. “Now come on—it’s half-past 4 and we need to get ready for the night ahead of us.”

“Welp, there goes that Forensic Files binge-a-thon I bragged about.”

Tag Listiana 🤷🏽‍♀️

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy-deactivated2 @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[brandithecrystalgem]

Intruder Alert!

O-KAY! So, this is my addition to the From Wakanda, With Love series. I’m posting a little early because I’ve been roped into going out this weekend! 

I had one helluva time writing this, as I haven’t written any fiction in like...10-ish years, and I haven’t written any fanfiction since the days of the msn group message boards. But, as much as I doubted my skills through this whole process, ya’ll will probably see more from me every now and then, once I really figure out this style of mine. ALSO! Tips, criticisms, feedback, alldat is welcome.

So, without further ado - here it is!

Characters: Erik x Black OC

Warnings: None, really. A bit of cursing in the dialogue, brief mention of smut but nothing that’ll get you steamy.

Word Count: ≈ 1700

Prompt: #27 - The only time I’m ever at peace is when you’re not here, breaking everything in my house.

It was the perfect Saturday.

The frigid Cambridge winter finally broke to give way to a balmy spring, and with the opening of a curtain, the sun’s soft rays lit up the once dreary apartment. Erik, clad only in black sweatpants, sat wide legged on his couch. A copy of The New Jim Crow lay unopened on the wooden coffee table as he lounged with his eyes closed, head bobbing gently to the sounds of Maxwell’s Ascension pumping through his speakers. He felt Gouda, his 2 year old tortoiseshell cat, walk across his lap, and assumed she was making her way to her preferred spot on the windowsill. His eyes popped open in surprise when he felt her plop down and curl up next to him. With a gentle smile on his face, Erik closed his eyes once more and began to delicately pet his favorite feline just as his playlist switched to Groove Theory’s Tell Me.  

It had been months since he had a weekend where he didn’t have any obligations to fulfill, or errands to run, or papers to grade, so he was going to enjoy it by doing absolutely nothing. Midterms were over so the frantic emails he’d usually receive from his students had died down, at least for the weekend. Not that he’d be responding to them today, anyway.

Erik’s head gently swayed to the music as he began thinking about what he’d be eating for dinner. The night before he’d run out to a butcher’s shop in Boston to get, what he considered, the best short ribs in the entire metro area and a bottle of A.P Vin pinot noir, a wine he’d come to enjoy during his unnecessarily frequent “networking” events the department chair “strongly suggested” he attend.

He already had the rest of the ingredients necessary for his red wine braised short ribs, and he was finally getting the chance to use the dutch oven he bought during a Black Friday sale. He briefly opened his eyes to check the time on the clock above the tv, making a mental note to start preparations for his meal in about two hours.

Yes, it was the perfect Saturday.

A knock at the door took Erik’s attention away from his food fantasies and caused one of Gouda’s ears to perk up in awareness. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he opted to ignore the knock. He figured it was the annoying ass white man who lived across the hall coming over to complain about his “urban” music as he had many times before. Erik had half a mind to get up and increase the volume on the iHome out of pure pettiness, but his position on the couch was far too comfortable to abandon.

A minute went by before another set of knocks came, louder and longer than the first. Erik’s eyes shot open as he and his feline companion both turn to look at the door, because surely whomever it is has lost their minds.

Begrudgingly, Erik stood and made his way over to the door to look out the peephole before sighing heavily and dramatically. So much for his perfect Saturday…

Opening the door he’s met with Simone Michael’s bright, devilish smile. The yellow romper she wore contrasted beautifully with her deep brown skin, and her hair sat on top of her head in a giant puff. The large tan leather tote she carried everywhere except for formal events was clutched under her right arm, one of the straps falling. Erik thought she looked adorable, however, she did not fit in with his perfect Saturday plans.

The pair met back in the fall semester at a grad student networking mixer. Simone was an architectural student who happened to live a few apartments down the hall. Even with the geographical convenience, she and Erik saw each other infrequently due to their busy schedules, but still managed to build a mutually beneficial situationship. Truly, they had fun together. Erik knew he could always hit her up for a good time, whether in or out of the bedroom. Still, as fun as she was, Simone was also loud and clumsy, and therefore in direct opposition to the serenity he pictured for his day.   

Her glossy lips pursed together in a smirk when she realized Erik didn’t seem at all happy to see her..

“So...you gonna let me in?” Simone asked with a tilt of her head and batting of her eyelashes. With another heavy sigh he opened the door wider to move to the side so she could come through. She glides in just as D’Angelo’s How Does it Feel begins to play through his speaker, her hips involuntarily swaying to the guitar riffs as she sits her bag down. If Erik hadn’t been thinking of ways to get rid of her without doing irreparable damage to their relationship, his hands would have very voluntarily found their way to her hips as she moved.

“What’s with these dramatic ass sighs?” She asked over her shoulder, hips still swaying. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that other one before you opened the door.”

With a roll of his eyes he headed back to his position on the couch, eyes scanning for Gouda only to realize she’d finally ditched him for the windowsill. He plopped down on the couch and stretched his leg out, purposefully taking up most of the sitting room.

“I was trying to have a nice, peaceful, relaxing Saturday.” Erik said, closing his eyes again, hoping she’d get the hint. “Oh, so you need some help relaxing, then?” He could hear the suggestion in her voice, she did not get the hint.

“No Simone, I don’t need ‘help relaxing’ ” he huffed. The sound of cabinets opening and glasses clinking made his eyes pop open and head snap towards the kitchen. “The hell are you doing?!?” He hoped she didn’t stumble upon his bottle of wine, because he’d definitely kick her ass out if it meant saving his short ribs.

“Well…” she continued opening cabinets until she found the box she was looking for, “you’ve been stressed and clearly need to unwind, so I’m gonna make you some tea! You know, for ‘relaxation.’ ”

With a sigh, Erik relaxed back onto the couch. “Simone, baby. I just want some peace, so Imma need you to go back down the hall.”

“Oh so, Im infringing on your peace or something?” She asked, only mildly offended.  

“The only time I’m ever at peace is when you’re not here, breaking everything in my house.” He told her outright.

“You are so damn dramatic, Erik” She scoffed. “A bitch drops one glass in the sink and suddenly I’m breaking everything in your house.”

“What about the chip in my coffee table?” He pointed directly at the chip with his eyes closed, having memorized its exact placement.

“My phone fell on it, AND CRACKED, might I add! Besides, it gives the table character.” She defended as she put the kettle full of water onto the stove.

“And what about the rip in my hanging tapestry?”

Simone’s smirk returned as she sauntered over to the couch, resting her forearms on its back. Sensing her presence, he opened his eyes and glared at her with poorly restrained annoyance.

“If I remember correctly,” she started, “you had me pushed up against the wall and we both had a grip on your little tapestry. So” her index finger moved back and forth between the two of them, “WE ripped it.”

Memories of that night made its way to the forefront of Erik’s mind, and his signature smirk almost found its way to his lips.

“Alright, that’s fair. You got that one...but what about my succulent pot that you knocked over?”

Simone made her way around the couch and crawled in between his legs until they were face to face.

“That wasn’t even me, the cat did that one”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up. How dare Simone try to frame Gouda for her clumsiness, the AUDACITY of this girl. “The cat is here every damn day and nothing gets broke, explain that!”

Her hands cupped his face, with thumbs running across his patchy beard before she shrugged. “Iono, cats be catting sometimes.” She felt his jaw tense under her palms before letting out a small giggle and gently kissing him on the lips. He attempted to move his face out of her embrace and defend Gouda’s honor, which led to her arms resting on his shoulders and only extended the lifespan of her giggles. Erik was fed up. “Nah, you gotta leave. I didn’t even want you here in the first place, but now you disrespecting family? NAH, bye!”

He nearly started pouting when she didn’t even flinch at his words.

“Now Erik, you and I both know that if you didn’t want me in here you wouldn’t have opened the door.” He scowled as a response, soliciting yet another giggle from his intruder.

The tea kettle began whistling calling Simone back to the kitchen. When she returned she had two mugs of mint green tea and was met with Erik’s perpetual frown. “You gon need to fix your face.” she told him with a chuckle as she sat the mug down next to his long forgotten book.

She sat her own mug down and made her way to her bag by the door, grabbing her tablet, and returning to curl up in Erik’s lounge chair that sat perpendicular to the couch. She sipped her tea and began working on some urban design sketches before looking up at him and saying, “Go on then, relax nigga!”

Frown diminishing only slightly, Erik grabbed the mug and took a sip before returning to his original wide legged position. This time, the sounds of Alicia Keys’ Diary washed over him mixed with the soft tapping of Simone’s stylus on her tablet. He looked over at Simone expecting her to drop the charade and start up her routine shenanigans. After a few minutes of watching her mind her own business, he let his guard down.

Erik took another sip of his tea before placing the mug back on the table and relaxing back into his position on the couch. His eyes fluttered shut before a small smile pulled at his mouth.

An *almost* perfect Saturday will have to do.

Taglist: @hoopshoney​ @purple-apricots​

[terrablaze514]

Amethyst Necklace (CIYS Sidestory) *Erik x Reader*

A feature presentation: With Love, From Wakanda (hosted by @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots ). This is my *headdesk* late *headdesk* submission. I'm steadily getting my life back, so all hope is not lost. This is based on the Crawl Into Your Sleep series (there's a time jump). Hope you all enjoy it.

“Are we on a date right now?” (Prompt #4)

Rated M (for brief mentions of violence and attempted assault)

Disclaimer: Black Panther belongs to Marvel. I don't own the other fandom that's mentioned, either.

*******

It's been ten weeks since you've crossed paths with Erik. The first few moments were random, albeit sudden - you still couldn't believe how well that first shopping trip went. The instant messages on your school D2L account, the anxious coffee shop meetup, and a fierce ride in his Mercedes-Benz to hit up the mall did things to you. For the record, his swagger switched your senses on no matter how many times you've tried to avoid it.

The way he'd given Dresden a beatdown, accompanied with his “evil twin” Adonis and fellow trainee Viktor… three versus five grimy trifles had presented a gut wrenching experience. You didn't watch the scene, but the terrifying sounds of breaking bones and curdling screams had prompted a random witness to call the cops, since your trifling ex had the audacity to confiscate your phone. Yet, he had intentions to do a gangbang train on you, so in a sense, it’s a great thing Erik and his entourage appeared on the scene before your ex’s friends had a chance to rip your jeans off at the library parking lot.

~°~°~

Erik also had a strange way of blocking thirsty traps on multiple social media accounts you own, especially Instagram and Facebook. The ladies who interfered with him, M'Baku and T'Challa were also blocked in a flash, and they came banging on your door this one fateful night. Half of them were another set of thirst traps from school; a combination of Churchians and R. Kelly sympathizers. You weren't in the mood for their bull, and proceeded to call the cops when your speed dial activated at the press of nine.

“What's going on?” Erik had asked, the racket downstairs noticeable. His voice never failed to melt you, but there were troubling matters at hand.

“Some angry ladies from school, they're at my house, armed with baseball bats and knives…”

“Okay, don't panic!” He commanded. “Remember that amethyst necklace I bought you two weeks ago?���

You've raised an eyebrow when shattered glass is heard from the living room.

“Y-yes,” you whispered.

“Put it on, and don't forget the mace!”

You did as he told. The beautiful gem hung low on your bust. “So, what difference would a necklace make?”

You could sense Erik's smirk. “Make an X with your arms.”

“An X, what for?”

“Y/N, you don't wanna die! I'm all the way on the opposite side of the city, and it’ll take me an hour to physically reach you. So do as I say, okay?”

Another glass shatter, and the door bangs are even louder and pronounced. Expletives that attacked your character were heard with more clarity.

“Do you believe in Wakanda?” Erik probed, bringing you back to focus.

“I do, but that's-”

An attempted disarming at the front door caught your attention.

“Do you believe in Wakanda, babe?”

You took a deep, albeit shaky breath.

“Yes.”

“Then make an X with your arms.”

Both arms did as he commanded. The gem on the necklace glowed and brightened your bedroom, where you're currently occupied.

“Now break it!”

You did it. Golden flashes zapped through the walls and wires of your house, and ultimately knocked your threats ten feet away from your house. As you exited your room, the voices of angry women were gone. Despite the broken window, the warm breeze engulfed your body. There were no crazy ladies in sight. The only display was a pile of bats, knives and Prada bags.

Another thing that caught your attention were the cars. Most were parked at their usual spots, but only two looked totalled, with broken windows and headlights.

“Wow,” you breathed as you processed this lovely aftermath. “All this unnecessary drama, because of social media. It doesn't make much sense, but it must be a good thing, right?” You poked the gemstone on your necklace. “This thing literally saved my life.”

~°~°~

Your phone and laptop alarmed at the same time. A message had arrived from Erik, encouraging you to change and worry about the house damage later. You've selected your favourite evening combo, along with a hat and silver hooped earrings. White tank top, a short silver jacket worn over it, followed by jaguar designed tights, a black skirt and tall black boots. Erik's car had pulled and he hopped out in an instant, surveying the aftermath of the crazies who came for you earlier.

A low whistle left his lips as you descended the staircase. You couldn't help the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

“Look who's glowing this evening!” he began as he opened the door for you.

“Thank-you,” You replied, settling in and buckling up. “So where are we headed?”

Erik entered his side of the car. “Straight to your necklace.”

You peered at it. “My necklace? Why?”

Erik started the engine and, as the car sped, he held the gem. “Just place your hand over mine.”

This is the second time he'd requested a strange favour from you. Strange in your eyes, because of the necklace. What's so special about it?

There's no such thing as magic in Wakanda.

“It will take forever to get there and back if you don't.”

You rolled your eyes as his dimples complimented his smirk.

“Or should I form an X and knock you out of here?” Your sudden confidence boost didn't go unnoticed. Erik chuckled; he liked it when life didn't weigh heavily on your well-being. It's allowed you to spread your wings. To get you out of your shell more, he’d let go of the gem and kept his eyes on the road. Meanwhile, this didn't help your curiosity.

“Well, which one is it?” You pressed. “What's so special about this necklace?”

“That is entirely up to you to decide, but there's someplace special I wanna take you to.”

You cocked an eyebrow in response, “and this is supposed to help us get there?”

“Depends on what you think. I know its location is several hours away.”

Erik's signature smirk had returned, yet this time, you've also noticed a knowing glint in his eye. You needed answers, and you’re gonna get them now.

“Are we on a date right now?”

Erik chuckled, “Of course!”

“Then why haven't we arrived? And why is this necklace so important?”

Just as Erik entered the freeway, he took your necklace and held the gem one more time.

“Just take my hand and we'll get there.”

Alright, alright. Let's see what this can do.

Without blinking, you held his hand and the scenery changed. You were no longer on the freeway in town - the roads looked more sophisticated with pebble tones. Neon lights shone brightly around the cars that drove now. You’ve also noticed that these drivers, well, the majority, were Black.

Your ride entered a bridge, and as you peeked out your window, the ocean below sparkled like stars. It's sunset time and the hues of orange, bright red, pink and fuschia accented the cascade of clouds in the sky. Birds flew across it.

Your hands rummaged through your purse for your smartphone to take photos of these beautiful sights.

Erik smiled, silently thanking Bast for granting his cousin Shuri the ability to create such technology, and for enabling this Pen Pal Program to happen.

~°~°~

Without missing a beat, you both arrived at your destination a few moments later. Krispy Kreme was the hot spot, and you've noticed multiple people walking in as well. Once the guards had verified your IDs, Erik linked your arm with his as one braided guard escorted you both to the VIP floor.

Upon entry, All the Stars by Kendrick Lamar and SZA played in the background. You both took front row seats. As Erik ordered drinks, a young lady with Bantu knots and a sparkly brown dress entered the stage and made an introduction.

“Good evening everyone, this is our Open Mic Night. Thanks for coming out! So settle in, let go of your worries, and enjoy our relaxed atmosphere. All are welcome to participate - the mic is yours. Poetry, song, storytelling, cypher… is entirely up to you.”

At the end of her introduction, your drinks arrived and a variety of performers, known and unknown to Wakanda, owned the mic. By the time the sixth performer of the night closed her song, a round of applause rolled through the atmosphere. You loved every minute of this so far. The overall vibes were cool and collected, warm and welcoming.

That’s when Erik stood and took your hand, escorting you towards the stage.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you whispered.

“It’s our turn,” he said.

Our turn?

Without hesitation, the crowd whistled and made bullet signs - a sign of respect for the Wakandan prince. A handful of young men hollered, “All hail King N'Jadaka!”

... until another set shushed them.

“So what’s your plan?” You mouthed.

“I paint, you speak.”

Well, if this isn’t nerve-wracking. But, I’m here. So here it goes...

You recalled the day your professor had graded you horribly, then the words came.

“How many more times should I feel,

Misunderstood?

How much longer before the world could hear my plea?

This forged, silent treatment had left me in chains,

Chains of choices, between the innovator and the warrior.

When can I rise? When can I fly? When will it be my turn to spark the flames of positive change?

For a brokenhearted daughter? Or the drifting, confused sister?

Where I'm from, there’s promises of empowerment...

Only to be broken and unfounded.

Then let them take credit, erase your name, your contribution, your standing,

Because your leadership is a threat.

How much longer before I can reclaim my power, spread my wings and fly?

I guess only time will tell.”

At the end of your segment, the audience snapped their fingers, whistled and offered their rounds of applause. You took a bow, and noticed Erik’s completed painting: A group of women, staring out of the jail cell, counting the stars. The bottom part of the picture featured his interpretation of what marginalization and institutional racism looked like, from your eyes.

You couldn’t help the warmth radiating your cheeks. Originally, you liked him. Admired him. Favoured him.

Tonight, you fell in love even more. He gets it.

You returned back to your seats, when your hands caught his face and your lips captured his. Thankfully, no one had noticed. The gem on your necklace formed a shield that barred others from seeing what was happening.

His tongue probed entry, and you allowed it. Although, you’ve noticed something a little unusual. Breaking the kiss, you inquired, “Is that a tongue ring?”

Erik chuckled and smacked your butt. “And what’s so important about that?”

Giggling, you added, “You’re dangerous. Now kiss me silly.”

Your lips locked again.

*******

Taglist: @ljstraightnochaser

@amethystbutterflie

@wakanda-inspired

@eriknutinthispoosy @softnani @princesskillmonger @iamrheaspeaks @muse-of-mbaku @destinio1 @airis-paris14 @blackpinup22 @bribrisback @supersizemeplz @thadelightfulone @epicyaoibamonbear @sisterwifeudaku @myareadinglist @kaytauru @phoenixgalaxy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @rayraynddem @cancerianprincess @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jozigrrl @itsrenaemf @theogbadbitch @steampunkprincess147 @eyeknowmywrites @annastaia @mbakusmbitch @thehomierobbstark @desertfyre @unholyxcumbucket @kissmyafropuff @forbeautyandlife @lifelover4u @yoyolovesbucky @purplehairgawdess @whoawhoababywhoa @animefun16 @blowmymbackout @itreywalk @msblkfire84 @mellifluousbabe @killuzumakii @hairhattedhooligan @marvelpotterlove @hearteyes-for-killmonger @to-the-water-ixazaluoh @yaachtynoboat711 @faatassbitch

[sarcastic-sunshines]

Struggles

Author’s Note: This is my submission for @purple-apricots and @hoopshoney ‘s With Love, from Wakanda Fic Fest.  My prompt was “you’d be a great mom.” I really enjoyed writing this and it was a great challenge for me as new writer. As always I hope you all enjoy it and make sure to check out all the other amazing writers.💜💜______________________________________________________________

T’Challa turned to look back at the entrance that led to his chambers, pacing up and down the hall in hopes his wife would soon exit the room and join him for their Valentine’s Day date. If left up to him, they would not even be going. He made sure his love for Thabisa was shown everyday, but her love of the holiday was infectious and T’Challa felt his best knowing she was happy. So if dressing up and celebrating an over glorified holiday made her smile, then there was nothing he wouldn’t do to see the smile that kept him going everyday. However, he couldn’t lie that his patience for Thabisa tonight was wearing thin. She had promised to be ready an hour ago, and though he knew that was not going to be the case, she was going past the time allotted to be fashionably late.

He entered the bedroom hearing the soft rhythm of her playlist.  He looked at the bed and saw the dress she had promised would leave him speechless. He smiled as he imagined her in it.

“Thabi?”, he called walking into the closest assuming she was in there picking shoes, but the lights and the ajared door had fooled him. His expression shifted as he walked towards the bathroom door calling her again. Still, he got no response but could hear her light sniffling from the other side.

“Thabi? What is going on? Are you alright?” He knocked as he asked with his heart rate increasing as he thought of all the possible things that could be wrong with her.

Thabisa lifted herself from her spot on the floor wiping her eyes and leaned against the bathroom door pulling her robe close to her. She mustered all the energy she could to not give away the fact that she was crying.

“I am fine. I am not feeling well. I have cramps and I can’t go on our date anymore.” 

T’Challa could tell that she was lying and couldn’t understand why. Only this morning she had been glowing and excitedly stating that her gift for him would be one of a kind and he could never guess what it would be. Her enthusiasm made his heart yearn for her and even made him willing to celebrate this holiday. Now, he felt anxious and worried, because her sadness and pain quickly became his and hearing her sorrow broke his heart.

“That is fine, my love. We can stay in and still enjoy each other’s company.”

 He waited for a reply and he was met with a shaky ‘okay’. He took a large breath before taking off his suit jacket,  placing it is on the bed next to her dress. He turned back to the door and knocked again with a little more ferocity.

“Thabi, can you please open the door. Whatever it is, we can work through it together, okay? I don’t like to hear you like this.”

He waited and heard no movement.

“My love, please,” he said with a little shake to his own voice.

Finally, he heard movement as the lock unclicked and he heard her shuffling away from the door. He opened it slowly and peaked looking for the holder of his heart only to find her leaning against the bathtub, in her robe and bonnet, makeup smeared, matching the mood of the room. Thabisa looked up at him causing her to start crying again.

The whole night had become a disaster.

She had woken up that morning feeling hopeful and thankful for the ache in her lower back and her tender swollen breasts. Her period was already a week late and she was sure this time Bast had finally answered her prayers. So she told her husband that her gift to him was one of kind and was eager to share her joy with him. She had gotten a box and was going to place the pregnancy test she planned to take in it, only for her to begin to get ready for their evening and be greeted by a very misleading aunt Flo. In the moment Thabisa was frustrated and felt betrayed by her own body. Why was getting pregnant so difficult? Wasn’t this what her body was made to do?

T’Challa slowly lowered himself next to his wife. He grabbed the roll of tissue paper and passed it to her as she lowered herself to lay in his lap. He ran his hand up and down her body soothingly.

“My love, would you like to tell me what has stolen my favourite smile off of your face? Just tell me the truth. I am here to help.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got my period.”

“You mentioned that, but in all my time of knowing you, it has never brought you to this much tears.” 

Thabisa lifted her head off his lap and turned to face him as she blinked away the tears in an attempt to control her emotions enough to speak. T'Challa gently caressed her cheek wiping away at the tears that had escaped.

“I thought I was pregnant,” she said lamely between hiccups. T’Challa finally began to put together the situation. After months of trying with no hope, not even a scare to encourage them, T'Challa began to see his bubbly wife slowly disappear into a shadow of herself. He tried to remain positive for the both of them and reminded her of his never dying love for her. Though often his attempts were defeated by the envy she felt as she watched friends and family receive the very gift that she begged Bast for. Today had been one of the few days that he felt the woman he loved return, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Thabi, it is okay, we will keep trying. The doctors said there is not an issue with either of us so when the time is right it will happen. I don’t like seeing you like this. “

“It is not okay, T'Challa!” Thabisa found herself yelling emotions she hadn’t truly shared until now. “You don’t know how hard it is to attend baby showers for others and to try and be happy for those who have what you want so badly! Yes, it has only been a few months but it is scary to think that in all this time we haven’t even had a miscarriage or anything. I feel like my body isn’t doing its job, like I am paying for some sin I have committed.”

Thabisa’s tears became more frequent as T’Challa reached up again to try and wipe them. He didn’t know what else to do to comfort his wife. To make her understand that her debt to him was only her love.

“I have prayed and prayed and it is like Bast refused to listen. Is this her way of saying that I am not meant to be a mother? Maybe I don’t deserve-” T’Challa pulled her into his chest as she sobbed. He felt a few tears slip from his own eyes. Seeing her like this was becoming too much for him.

“Eh, eh. Do not speak like that. You know that is not true. I have no doubt in my mind that you’d be a great mom. Probably the best, my love. I have seen you with children, honestly it is one of the many reasons I fell in love with the most beautiful school teacher I have ever seen .” He felt her breathing finally steadying and whimpers slowly decreasing. “Your large heart and your empathy is unmatched. Children are drawn to you like a magnet, no matter where we go. And you dote on each one with your undivided attention as though they are your own. Sometimes I am little jealous,” he finished jokingly. His heart skipped as he heard the small giggle coming from her.

Thabisa separated herself from him again, looking him in his eyes searching for truth in his words.

“You think so?”

“Thabisa, of course.” He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “I don’t know when that will be, but I do know that if there is any role that you were made for, it is that of a mother. And Bast willing, we will have enough to fill all the empty rooms.” Her genuine smile mended his broken heart. He  lifted her up and set her on the edge of the tub. He grabbed her make up wipes and wiped of what was left. He brought her favourite pyjamas and led her to their bed.

After changing himself, he brought her a replica of the sundae that they had shared on their first date that he had had the chefs prepared. He had also gotten her a bracelet engraved with their wedding anniversary on the inside. Thabisa was almost brought to tears again as she appreciated the gesture.

T’Challa held her tight as they shared the dessert and she laughed at his jokes. Her laughter was like music to his ears, and he always wanted this song on repeat. She leaned into his warmth and allowed his love to heal her.

“I am sorry that I ruined Valentine’s day.” T’Challa kissed her cheek.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I rather be doing this anyway. You know I do not mine showing you my love for you everyday.” Thabisa smiled feeling lucky for the man she had.

“I know, and I thank you for that. I don’t have a gift for you though.” T'Challa shifted so he was facing her.

“Thabisa, your smile and happiness is more than enough for me. You already gave me the greatest gift when you allowed me to call you my wife.”  Thabisa held his face as she leaned in to kiss him.

“Happy Valentines day.”

“Happy Valentines day, my love.”

[airis-paris14]

Saturn

So after much revision, it is here. This is my entry into the With Love, From Wakanda Ficfest. Hosted by the lovely @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots. I hope you all enjoy. The gift is inspired by my lifelong affinity with the planet Saturn, I’m not really big into astronomy, and the Album by NAO. I do suggest listening to the song. I love it. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy. 

Fic prompt in BOLD

“Knock, knock” Tiana barged into Nevaeh’s room to find the American- Wakandan sitting at her  vanity. The immigrant jumped, spilling eye shadow on the pure white vanity. “I don’t understand why you bother pretending to knock if you are just going to barge in anyway,” she sighed, cleaning the eye shadow from under her eye.

Choosing to ignore the question, Tiana flopped on her bed. “You’re still doing your makeup? The party starts in an hour. We’re going to be late. “ The bronze skinned woman replied.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s a party at the palace. I am sure the king will not notice if we are a few minutes late,” Nevaeh groaned, beginning to blend the foundation into her skin. “How would you know, you’ve never even met the king,” Tiana argued.

“Look, are you done getting ready?” Nevaeh paused turning to look at her roommate. “No, but I need to borrow some eyeliner.”

“Take the eyeliner and when you’re finished come get me.” Nevaeh tossed the woman the eyeliner, before digging for her concealer again. Tiana caught the thin tube smoothly before walking over to the vanity with her friend. “Are you excited?” Tiana asked, pulling up the additional stool. “Yeah, I always love parties,”Naveah double checked her highlight before grabbing her lip gloss. “I meant to go to the palace and see the king.”

“Oh sure I guess,” Nevaeh half heartedly replied checking her new message on her phone.

T’Challa: Are you still coming tonight?

A grin spread across Nevaeh’s face.

Nevaeh: Yes, your majesty.

T’Challa: Stop it.

Nevaeh: Are you getting ready for your party?

T’Challa: Shuri and mother are handling that. I am afraid I am quite a hindrance in planning parties.

Nevaeh: I still do not understand what exactly we are throwing this party for.

T’Challa: It’s the first light festival.

Nevaeh: Which is….

T’Challa: I believe Americans call it Valentine’s Day? Except, men give gifts at the crack of dawn, or first light.

“Vae!  Are you even listening to me?” Tiana called. “Huh,” She snapped her head up from her phone. “Did you hear anything I said?” Tiana folded her arms. “Yes,” Nevaeh insisted indignantly. “What was I talking about?”

“Something with the king.”Nevaeh offered. Nevaeh’s phone buzzed in her hand, the light flashing signaling a text message. “Who on earth are you texting,”Tiana asked, watching Nevaeh giggle while replying to the message. “Huh?” the foreigned smiled up at her friend. “That’s it. Let me see the phone,” Tiana reached for the phone. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Nevaeh insisted, hurriedly shoving the phone behind her back. “Who are you texting? I just wanna see!” Tiana pouted. “Did you meet a guy?”

“Maybe…” she trailed off.

For months now Nevaeh has been dating the king of wakanda. As much as the two want to be out in public together, they both know now isn’t the time. Nevaeh is  one of the first immigrants to be moved back to Wakanda under T’Challa’s lost tribe initiative. Her father had been a war dog for the country. While on duty he meet Nevaeh’s mother and  never returned to Wakanda. When Wakanda announced the lost tribe initiative to bring the children and foreign spouses of the war dogs back to wakanda, Nevaeh immediately applied for herself and her mother.

The king met each of the first ten immigrants, wanting to be the first to welcome them home. After running into each other several more times in the market, the two exchanged numbers.  After a few months of living in Wakanda, Nevaeh realized what T’Challa had known all along. While Wakanda was welcoming immigrants with open arms, they were not yet ready for a foreign queen. So the two agreed to keep it to themselves, and when Nevaeh met Queen mother and Shuri. Everyone ,except Shuri, agreed that they should wait a while to go public.

“It’s nothing serious yet,” she lied. “Is he going to first light?” Tiana asked.  “I think so,” Naveah shrugged. “If you see him promise me you’ll introduce him,” Tiana demanded, watching as her roommate carefully packed all of her make up away.

“Of course,” Nevaeh smiled, guilt settled in her stomach. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe someone was rushing me to get dressed,” the woman teased. “Right. You’ve got ten minutes before I leave without you.”

“Alright, give me fifteen and I’ll be downstairs,” Naveah smiled, pushing her friend towards the door. “No ten Vaeh, you have ten minutes till I-”Tiana’s muffled voice floated through the door as Naveah pushed it closed.

The car ride to the palace was short. Music blared in the car as the blue light from the moon washed over the girls’ skin. Tiana pulled the car into the drive of the palace, handed the keys to one of the valets ,and waited patiently as Nevaeh gathered her dress train and followed her out of the car. The two girls helped each other to fluff out the bottom of their dresses, before making their way up the stairs.

“I knew I should’ve bought those roll up flats to put in my clutch,” Naveah sighed, pulling the bottom of her dress up with one hand as she climbed the large stairs to the palace. “We’re almost there,” Tiana reasoned above her.

The two finally reach the top, their dresses brushing gently against the grass of the manicured gardens. The scent of the flowers floated along the night breeze. Accompanying all the guests as they milled around, majority of them moving towards the large ballroom. The bass of afrobeats flowed from the open balcony doors. Pulsing through the marble floors in time with the clicking of Neveah's heels. Lights were strung everywhere, illuminating the gardens below. A large chandelier cast the ballroom in a luminescent glow. Couples filled the dance floor, bodies moving sync with each other.

Nevaeh’s heart soared as she looked around the ball room. She spotted Queen mother and Shuri out of the corner of her eye. Smiling, she bowed her head in acknowledgement as they did the same. She followed Tiana to the snack table, before her friend was pulled onto the dance floor. The Wakandan-American watched from the sidelines before glancing at the large staircase. The king stood at the top, grinning as he locked eyes with her.

Naveah returned his grin and bowed slightly, chuckling at the frown that crossed his face. “I see you found the king,” Tiana materialized next to her. “You should go talk to him.” Tiana nudged.

“Me?” Nevaeh’s mouth dropped open. “You think I could get the king?”

“Yeah, why not?” Tiana frowned.

“I’m a foreigner.”

“Just cause you weren’t born here, doesn’t make you any less Wakandan than the rest of us. Vibranium runs through your veins, same as it does ours.” Tiana insisted.

“I think I’m just gonna catch some fresh air,” Naveah excused herself, quickly weaving her way through the crowds, finally emerging onto the quiet balcony. The night sky spread out before her. She watched as the sky turned from black to purple before her eyes. She sighed at the beauty that was Wakanda. Nature in all her beauty.

From behind, someone cleared their throat. “I am afraid that this area is reserved for the royal family and their guests only madam.” Nevaeh tensed, quickly turning to address the speaker. “I am so… T’Challa,” her rushed apology melted into a grin. “Hello my love,” the king chuckled, moving to embrace the woman before him. Nevaeh melted into his warm embrace. His scent filling her with a sense of home. “You look absolutely stunning,” the king smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Thank you,” she blushed.

“Why are you not inside?”

“There is not really a point is there?” Nevaeh frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The only person I want to dance with, or accept a gift from, is you. We both know we can’t do that. At least not in public.”

T’Challa glanced at the rising sun, “Well if my beautiful girlfriend will accept me, I would love to present her with a gift. Do you accept my intentions?”

A dopey grin spread across the American’s face. She gently bit her lip and nodded in reply. The king motions to a Dora who hands him a small black box. “Thank you,” he smiles, his eyes never leaving his love’s. He hands the box to Nevaeh. She gently pried it open, a beautiful vibranium and diamond ring sits nestled inside. Nevaeh’s eyes grow wide, her heart beginning to tremble inside her chest, “T’Challa I thought we…”

“I know. It’s not an engagement ring though. I remembered that you loved the planet saturn,” the king begins, prying the ring from it’s box. “My original plan was to have them dedicate the planet to you,” the king revealed, closing the black box and placing it in his pocket. “You tried to buy Saturn. Like the huge gas giant, planet, extraterrestrial being, saturn?”

“Well dedicate, not buy per se,” T’Challa tried to clarify. “T’Challa, you can’t dedicate an entire planet to someone,”Nevaeh giggled. Only T’Challa would go to such lengths for her. “I beg to differ entle.The only reason I did not go through with it was that you could not see the planet anytime you wanted. So mother and shuri suggested I go with something much more ‘practical’”. T’Challa reaches for her right hand and gently slides the ring on her finger. “Press the diamond gently,” the king implored her.

The woman pressed the diamond. A projection of saturn floated above the ring. The planet rotated real time infront of her. “Shuri updated it to project a hologram of saturn anytime you would like to see it.” The king explained. Tears formed in the corner of Nevaeh’s eyes. “T’Challa, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. It is absolutely breathtaking” she admired the ring that now adorned her finger. “I don’t know how I am going to explain this to Tiana though,” She laughed, dabbing the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Would you like to see what else it can do?”

Taking her slight nod as an encouragement, T’Challa gently places her hand behind his ear. The ring connects to his identification tattoo and his heartbeat began to pulse inside the ring. The accompanying audio plays out loud with the projection. Nevaeh stands frozen as she is surrounded by the sound of him. “Anytime you start the projection, the ring will play my heartbeat along with it. That way I am always with you.”

Nevaeh pulls him back into her embrace. “I love you so much,” she cries. “I love you too entle,” the king smiles. “This is my promise. I may have to leave, and go on missions for days or weeks. But, like saturn, I will always return to you.” his hands gently cupped her face. Nevaeh simply nods, at a loss for words. The sun rose steadily behind the two, and the party drew to a close around them. “Happy Valentine’s Day my love,” Nevaeh murmured minutes later. “Happy Valentine’s,” T’Challa replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Taglist:

@chaneajoyyy @dramaqueenamby @90sinspiredgirl @sisterwifeudaku @sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @ororowrites @writingmarvellousimagines @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @justanotherloveaffair @hutchj @tchoking @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @queertrex @skysynclair19 @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake 

[storibambino]

First of Many

A/N: Shoutout to @hoopshoney & @purple-apricots for putting this event together. This is my first submission for With Love, From Wakanda. Also I’m using this in my challenge that still needs requests and prompts 11,511/30,000.

On Ao3

Summary: It’s Wakanda’s first Valentine’s Day and love is supposed to be in the air. Supposed to be. Shuri has a date planned and T’Challa and Queen Mother are trying to be supportive. Trying to be.

Prompt: “I’ll never get over how beautiful it is.”

Enjoy my loves!

“Brother I have no more time for you today. I’m busy and if you continue to ask me any more questions I’m going to be late,” Shuri huffed impatiently at T’Challa.

“Late for what?” T’Challa questioned his little sister but made no moves to exit her lab.

“Believe it or not, your Highness, I have more going on in my life than just inventing and ensuring you don’t die,” Shuri’s words were rushed, clipped short at the edges. She was moving about the lab but instead of packing up she was half-heartedly organizing piles and shuffling papers.

T’Challa hadn’t seen Shuri like this in a very long time. Although she was just a teenager she had taken on so much responsibility in her short years. As the head of Wakandan research and development, as a leader in the Wakandan educational system, as a growing young woman, and as a child that had to be there for their mother after the death of their father.

“Shuri please stop. I am your brother that’s far more important than me being your King,” T’Challa stepped sat down on a nearby stool and gestured for the teen to do the same. Instead of sitting next to him she hopped on the counter across from him. She was still shifting sporadically, eyes darting everywhere except T’Challa’s face, “Are you not in a hurry anymore?”

“Eh, hush. I’m just,” Shuri pulled her brows together exhaled and started again, “I am nervous. Today is a special day. Well, I want it to be special and I’ve done all this planning and I’m afraid it won’t turn out like I want it.”

“Special day?” T’Challa asked.

“Really? I spent so much time on that memo and you didn’t even read it,” There was no response, “It’s Valentine’s Day you simpleton. You told me to research some global holidays to integrate slowly. We decided that this one would be nice to incorporate. Any of that sound familiar?”

“Yeah, yes, I remember now.”

“You forgot, didn’t you? Nakia leaves again and all love related things go out the window,” T’Challa looked a little hurt by her words, “I’m sorry. You know she wanted to be here.”

“It’s ok. Today isn’t about me, it’s about you and all your plans. Tell what needs to be done and I’ll make sure the day goes perfectly.”

Shuri explained all of her plans for the evening and how she needed help keeping nosy council members, research assistants, and their mother busy while she sets up the perfect date for an unknown, yet extremely lucky, someone. He begrudgingly agreed after a fruitless effort to get his baby sister to disclose the name of her date. T’Challa went off to find their mother and let the council know that all meetings concerning technology are to be postponed.

After setting her brother off on his diversion mission Shuri gave all of her research assistants and staff the evening off to enjoy how they saw fit. She had a few stops and a short to-do list before the rendezvous. She saved her work and closed up shop.

First stop was to shower and change out of her work clothes. However fashionable, her work clothes nonetheless. After a shower and wardrobe change, she picked up the meal to go, basket, blanket and assorted chocolates that she had her chef prepare. All she had to do now was pick up the flowers and blankets then it would all be ready. The anxiety she’d been feeling about today had simmered to nervous energy rolling around gently in her chest. Like the blueprints for a new invention, she mentally went through the logistics of the day. Everything, so far, was in order and as long as everyone played their parts it would be a perfect evening filled with love.

--

T’Challa was not having the same ease as Shuri getting everyone in line with her plans. The council was easy to dispatch, they were also excited to try out this new custom and spend some needed time with the loved ones. However, Okoye was determined to avoid the new found holiday altogether.

“My King, I really don’t see the reason for this day off,” Okoye sighed.

“General, you’ve given everyone that is nonessential the day off. I am telling you that you are not essential for this evening,” Okoye opened her mouth to argue, “You are invaluable to me and Wakanda but also to your husband. Please just take the night off.”

She held his gaze for a few moments but shrugged and smiled gently, “As you wish.”

Okoye bowed but more out of playfulness than actual respect, as much as he was her king he was her friend. She turned to leave when one more question popped into his mind, “You would happen to know who Shuri is going out with tonight, would you?”

“Of course not,” Okoye winked.

T’Challa sighed loud and exasperated but chuckled immediately after. He watched her leave and didn’t fail to notice the bounce in her step as she did. Now that the Dora had either been given the night off or assigned to duties with their significant other the only person left to attend to was his mother.

The Queen Mother was in her garden when T’Challa finally tracked her down, “If I didn’t know better I would say you were hiding.”

Ramonda makes a startled noise but when she turns to see her son she smiles fondly, “You scared me, my son. For a moment,” She didn’t finish the sentence but the heartbreak was heavily implied. T’Challa embraced her for longer than was needed but the contact was welcomed, “What are you doing here? I thought you would be out celebrating love and romance.”

“I am. What greater love is there than yours?” He meant the words. He led her over to one of the benches near a grove of flowering trees and plots filled with brightly colored flowers. Sitting in almost sunset surrounded my so much color made her soft white hair stand out even more. When he was a child he swore his mother was a Goddess due to the way she shined in the early morning and twilight. Now, sitting with her quietly after a long day he was sure he’d been right all along.

“What’s troubling you, my son?” She pulled him back to the present only a ghost of worry was on her face genuine love dominated her features.

There were so many things on his mind that he could, wanted, to say. The future of Wakanda. The future of his family now that Erik was a part of it. The profound community healing that needed to take place in the nation after the battle. How he was going to introduce the world to his people and protect them from it. If he was honest with himself, his love life as well. All those things were too big and too small at the same time for this intimate moment with his mother so he settled on something else entirely, “Your daughter has a date tonight.”

“Oh?” Ramonda smirked and shook her head, “I was wondering why that child was so scarce today. Do you know with who?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. Neither would my general.”

“Of course. King or not you’re still the big, overprotective, brother.”

They fell back into an easy silence until the Queen Mother broke it, “Wanna find out?”

“Absolutely.”

After retracing Shuri’s steps and bribing the royal florist T’Challa and Ramonda were able to put together Shuri was on a picnic in the caves of the mines. They figured she must be trying to impress someone as she chose only the best appetizers, ones T’Challa requested for all of their banquets, and flowers directly from Queen Mother’s personal garden. However, that was all the information they were given along with a few side eyes for spying. T’Challa was about to bribe Ayo for more exact information on where she was located but his mother stopped him right before he was going to pull the ‘I am you King’ card.

“I know exactly where she is,” Ramonda stated calmly. T’Challa raised a questioning eyebrow, “I am your mother. I know my children.”

About twenty minutes later they were creeping through a warm cave that opened onto a cliff overlooking the water with a perfect view of the sunset. The clearing was bathed in deep oranges and reds giving everything the warmth of an aged painting. As they approached the opening there was no laughter or soft flirting that was expected of a date. Ramonda gestured for T’Challa to poke his head out and see what was going on. He shook his head and pointed back at her. She gave him a stern look then he rolled his eyes earing him a pop on the forehead. He sighed quietly and conceded going further toward the mouth of the cave. He half expected to see Shuri and her date intertwined, kissing explaining the absence of noise. The site that greeted him instead shot a bolt through his heart. Shuri was sitting alone, knees drawn up under her chin watching the waves and the sun.

T’Challa turned back to his mother with a somber look on his face. Worry furrowed her brow and she slid around him to see for herself. Seeing her daughter stood up on her first Valentine’s Day was too much to bear on her heart. She stepped out into the open with T’Challa close behind.

“I was wondering when the two of you would show up,” Shuri said to them without turning around.

“It was your brother’s idea,” Ramonda responded quickly. T’Challa gave her a surprised and betrayed look to which she only shrugged, “You know I would never spy.”

“Really mother?” T’Challa shot out.

Before the woman could respond Shuri broke out into a fit of giggles. It wasn’t long before they were all laughing together as a family. Their voices echoed off the cave and were carried out to sea by a warm breeze into the horizon.

When their laughter subsided Ramonda sat down next to her daughter and held her close, “I’m sorry your date didn’t turn out like you wanted. The idiot that stood you up will be brought before the council.”

Shuri turned to look at her mother and brother properly. A slow smile spread across her face, “That won’t be necessary mother my date is going all according to plan.” T’Challa and Ramonda looked at each other then back to Shuri confused, “You two are my date.”

The food, T’Challa’s favorites. The flowers, Queen Mother’s favorites. The cliff. T’Challa scanned the landscape again. It was familiar, his mother had known exactly where she’d be.

“This is where we would come with Baba,” T’Challa said quietly. Their father proposed to their mother in this very spot. When they were young and restless he would bring them out with blankets and watch the stars. Even when they would argue this was the place they came to calm down and just get away.

“Today is about love,” Shuri paused to wipe the few tears that had escaped onto her mother’s cheeks, “I know things have been hard for you since Baba has been gone. I wanted today to be about our love, our family. We’ve lost so much. Through it all we still have had each other. What love is greater than that? I love you both with everything I have.” The words hung in the air permeating their skin and settling in their hearts.

“You really are the most intelligent person in Wakanda Shuri,” T’Challa said in awe of his little sister. He embraced the two women. They all held onto each other facing the sun.

“I’ll never get over how beautiful it is,” Ramonda said.

“The sunset?” Shuri asked.

“No, you Shuri.”

[lady-olive-oil]

My Funny Valentine

Hey everybody! it’s ya girl Livvy here with a Black Panther fic, for With Love From Wakanda. I am honored to be able to collaborate with you this group of lovely Queens. Hope you all enjoy it, feedback is greatly appreciated and i will be sure to follow you all as well. Thank you to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots for this amazing opportunity!! 

My prompt: “Did you just call me, ‘my love’?”

Warnings: heated make-out session, nothing too bad.

Relationship: M’Baku x Zoya 

Word count: under 2k [1,892 to be exact, i got a bit carried away]

Translations: ngelosi; angel

What was the purpose of bachelor parties anyway? It all seemed extremely boring to M’Baku at this point. Going out to a strip club with his friends, he used the term loosely, to celebrate T’Challa’s engagement to Naomi.  

The club was Erik’s idea of course, but none of them impressed M’Baku in the slightest. He was on his 3rd glass of Hennessy, and it don’t phase him one bit.   “Ayo, Baku!” Erik approached the Jabari king with a swag in his step. Looking him over and rubbing his chin, he snickered.   “Why you look bored? There are plenty of honeys to choose from. Have some fun and get outcha head.” M’Baku glanced at his gold fanged friend and scoffed a bit.   “None of this fun to me. They are all gorgeous, yes, but not my cup of tea.” “Man you trippin trippin. Imma go have fun with T’Challa, never thought I’d hear my damn self say that. Talk to ya later.”

To say he was in a funk was an understatement. What caused it? How I would’ve wrote it: It was probably the fight between him and his lady friend, Zoya, that caused them to not speak for weeks.

The fact that it was Valentine’s Day didn’t make it any better, seeing as how he had the week planned out months before the fight. To say he was whipped over Zoya wasn’t a lie. She treated him no different, and saw

him for who he was. Not just the king of Jabari Land, but M’Baku. “I’m gonna go back to the hotel. I’ll see you guys later.” Upon departing from the group to head home, he got a text that made his heart beat like a djembe drum in a tribal dance.   {Come by my hotel, the Manhattan. We need to talk. Room 214}

He thought long and hard about how to respond. Once he got his bearings together, he replied.

[Oh? So what do I owe the pleasure of gracing the queen of my presence?]

{I don’t need the sarcasm.} she replied. {Just get your ass here before I change my mind.}

“At least I can get away from the party.”

[Fine. I’ll be there soon]

Catching a cab to clear his thoughts a bit, he replayed the fight in his head.

[several hours earlier]

“You can’t even take one day off. One day off to spend time with me.” The ruby red haired queen huffed at the tall Jabari king. They had been at it for hours.

“I am a king. My duties are to myself and my country. Not some whiny little-“

“Finish that sentence. I dare you. One more word I will feed your ass to your tribe. All I’m asking from you, is spend a little time with me that’s all.”

He had, had enough of their arguing and needed to breath. The elongated sigh left his full lips, as he rubbed his face.

“I can’t be at your beck and call every minute of the day, Zozo. You know that.”

“You sure did spend a lot of time with that other chick at the bar, a few times this week I might add.”

“Are you jealous of Megan? She’s our guide around New York. I can sense something these in you Zoya. You want me. Don’t you?” The smirk shone on his face with pride. He knew just how to push her buttons.

“Hell no. Go enjoy your little Little Havana Barbie Doll, of a guide. Any of the Avengers could’ve given y’all a tour.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance and prepared a bath for herself.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed and got in her face. “Until you come to your senses about how you feel, I’ll be with the boys.” Leaving her there to contemplate what just happened, she growled lowly full of rage.

“I could ask you the same damn thing!” Zoya exclaimed in fury as she heard the door slam after M’Baku’s departure.

[Flashback over]

What flower shops are open this late? Maybe her favorite ice cream will do? The process to make it right and apologize for what he had done, was in full swing.

Fifteen minutes alter, after gathering that items he needed, he felt the hairs in the back of his neck rise due to anxiousness. Knocking on the door waiting with anticipation, it opened to a glorious sight.

“Zoya. I just-“

“I know. Come in before you draw attention to yourself.” Pulling him inside the room, she checked for any onlookers.

The room was dimly lit; held electric candles all over the place, soft jazz music playing, his pride and joy in front of him in a crisp white lace lingerie set and a matching silk white robe.

“Dear Hanuman you look good enough to eat.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her for one second. The white lace looked as if it were painted on her skin, making it rove seem envious of what it was on.

“Oh I know. I’ve been blessed with a glorious purpose.” She began, and smirked slyly up at him, before putting the flowers in whatever she could find in the kitchenette of the room.

“And that purpose is to apologize for how I’ve been reacting towards you.”

Taking his hands in hers as the moved towards the couch, she sat on her knees and breathed evenly.

“M’Baku, it doesn’t take much to make me feel good. And yet you do the bare minimum and it means the world to me. I shouldn’t take your kindness for granted and what we have, I don’t know what to call it at all.”

Her palms were aching; heart pounding against her chest at rate that felt like a jackhammer on the pavement.

“ngelosi. What are you saying?” The tone of M’Baku’s voice was unwavering. He didn't know to expect next.

“Please don’t call me that unless you’re being truthful.” She sniffled at the thought of possibly losing him for what she was about to say.

“I am being truthful here. Where are you getting at?”

“What am I to you?” The words rushed out of her like a bullet train and caught M’Baku by surprise.

“I don’t want to just be your fling whenever, you or I, need to get off. I know this was the arrangement but it’s getting less fulfilling. I don’t want to be a fuck buddy, when I know I’m wife material.”

The tears that slid down her high mocha sunkissed cheekbones, fell into her lap. All the while, sniffling slightly while avoiding eye contact. Feeling a warm gentle hand, lift her chin up to look him in the eye, he spoke with sincerity. 

“Zoya. My love, I was afraid to tell you how I felt. I truthfully only thought you’d want this arrangement, after all was said and done. The first time was magical of course but, as it continued I finally saw the woman I want by my side.” Lacing their fingers together, he kissed the back of her hand.

“I want this to be more than just a fling between us.” Resting his head on hers, looking into her eyes softly, he was being sincere.

Was she hearing him correctly? Did he want her for real. The tears that shed this time, were happy one's, as she let out a sweet chuckle.

“Wait, wait. Did you call me, ‘my love’?” She was in awe and shock. “M’Baku, are you sure? Am I even fit to rule?”

“My love,” he repeated with a smile and caressed her cheek gently. “Without you, I am nothing but an empty shell of a man. With you, you make me better; stronger even. Beside every great man, is an even greater woman.”

All her bottled up emotions, that she held in for so  long over the last four years, were rushing out with pure happiness.

She didn’t know how to respond. Not sure what to do, letting her body do the work, she kissed him with so much love and passion. This kiss felt real and not forced; it was genuine and filled with heat.

His soft, thick lips engulfed hers with an intensity like no other. Tilting his head to the left slightly, to deepen the kiss, he held her face in his strong hands. All the while of taking in her sent, that was like fresh oranges infused with vanilla. It must’ve been the perfume he got her for her birthday, because it was heaven on earth to him.

The kiss itself was hotter than ever before. Dragging her nails down his firm chest, moaning shakily against his lips as it intensified even more, she had a thought. Upon breaking the kiss, she was caught off guard, by his lightning speed reflexes.

“M’Baku..” Zoya groaned softly as his lips trailed down her neck in ecstasy, causing her heart to beat faster in want and need. Feeling a little daring, Zoya draped her left thick thigh across his lap, while M’Baku caressed it and tugged at it. Of all the times he's been in between them, he’s taking his time to enjoy it more than ever.

“Yes my Queen?” He was too focused to on her pleasure to even talk.

“You didn’t ask me to be yours. You simply implied.” Her elegant voice stopped his motions, gazing into her eyes once more and pulled her closer to his chest that’s as just as burning in desire as her own.

“Zoya Janelle Okafor,” He began, as he picked her up and locked her ankles behind his back, caring her to the bathroom that she had set up for them.

“You’ve thought this out haven’t you?” He loved the gesture wholeheartedly.

“I did. Because kitten felt bad, for how she treated the gorilla.” The elegant smirk that was etched on her face, as she rubbed her nose against his affectionately.

“The gorilla loves this, just as much as he loves you. Yet, I have a proposal to ask of you.”

Placing her on the counter; watching in amazement as the candles illuminated her heated skin, to give her a golden glow, he was at a loss for words. Then found them again.

“My love, will you be mine? For all eternity, in all the possible realms that are out there? I don't have a ring yet, but there might be one in the future.”

“Yes M’Baku. I’ve waited long enough.”

With the finale words leaving her breath, she pulled him closer to her body and kissed him with everything she had in her. Gripping her hips just as rough, and rolling his into hers. The white lace, that graced her supple hips, were soon ripped from her and throw behind him without a care.

“I just bought this!” She whined but was cut off by a sudden slap to her voluptuous backside.

“I’ll buy you more than your hearts desire.” His deep baritone voice awoken the chills in her body, biting her plump bottom lip as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“You’re lucky I love you.” She whispered ever so lightly, against his lips, pulling his pants down as well.

“I love you, too.” He responded softly and went backing to kissing his future Queen. Holding her close as much as he could, with the sound of the city drowning out in the background.

[yaachtynoboat711]

✨THE MASTERLIST✨

Here’s my masterlist! I’ve finally gathered everything together. Hopefully the links work!

Moodboard

Support Black Writers!

AT FIRST GLANCE

Chapter 1

Chapter 2.1

Chapter 2.2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4, Series Finale (NSFW)

Fonder

(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(5.1)(5.2)(6)(7)(8.1)(8.2)(9)

The Gala

Part 1

Part 2

Other Works

Thunder Clap

Whew,Chile!

Breakfast with Bae

Would You Mind? (NSFW)

Cater 2 U

The Duke’s Speech

The Morning Perk

We’ve Got the Jazz (NSFW)

My Favorite Present

Denae & The Breakout

Our Next Guest... (#WithLoveFromWakanda FicFest submission, hosted by @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots )

The Plus One (The WIP FF submission, hosted by @sonofnjobu )

Agape

B’Day Fics!!

Museum Date headcanon (written by @plussizeappreciationfics)

Suddenly Stevens (written by @vanitykocaine , NSFW)

Take Me Out (written by @kumkaniudaku)

His Personal Lawyer (NSFW, written by @eriknutinthispoosy)

An M’Big Surprise (written by @pastelastronomy24 )

Works for Thicc Daddy M’Baku

A Special Visit (#mbakusmistressff submission for @muse-of-mbaku, NSFW)

Pedro Pascal & Company 👀

Coffee (Harem) (Pedro Pascal x Black F! reader)

COMING SOON:

The Secretary ( Javi Peña x Black F! OC)

Kevin Atwater Appreciation Fics

Just One Round

Coffee Bae

Can We Talk

CHURCH GIRL (coming soon)

Yearning for Terry Richmond

Frozen (coming soon)

[tallulahchanel]

It took me longer than I intended to finally read this, so sorry, but I loved it. It was totes adorable. ❤

What's A Valentine?

So, here is my submission for the With Love, From Wakanda Fic Fest hosted by @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots. This is definitely me trying something new, so I hope you all enjoy it. My prompt - “Can somebody escort the 30-year old having a temper tantrum out of the building?”

Running her hands down her dress, Danielle gave herself one last look in the mirror.  “Come on Dani girl; I know you ask why you do this year after year, but it is a small price to pay. We can do this and then go back to our regularly scheduled program tomorrow.” Smoothing out her favorite long-sleeved empire waist high-lo dress in black that shows off her thick milk chocolate legs adorned in her light purple Maryjane 4-inch stilettos; she inhaled deeply calming her nerves. She finished the look off with her silver hoops and amethyst pendant. She hears a faint ringing sound and walks over to the comm by her bedroom door, “Yes.”

“Miss Danielle, he’s here.”

“Thank you, Sergio. I’ll be right down.” Walking over to her dresser Danielle picks up her clutch, double checking the contents and pops her lips in the mirror to blend her purple lipstick again. “One night, that’s it.”

—

Keep reading

[storibambino]

I’m so hurt

My second submission was deleted from my drafts. I have to completely rewrite it. I’m sorry yall the fluff fest will continue when I can get it finished

@hoopshoney @purple-apricots

[disneysdarlingdiva]

When the King of Wakanda wants to dedicate a planet to you, who's gonna tell him no? Not I.

Beautiful story, very original 💫

Saturn

So after much revision, it is here. This is my entry into the With Love, From Wakanda Ficfest. Hosted by the lovely @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots. I hope you all enjoy. The gift is inspired by my lifelong affinity with the planet Saturn, I’m not really big into astronomy, and the Album by NAO. I do suggest listening to the song. I love it. Nevertheless, I hope you all enjoy. 

Fic prompt in BOLD

“Knock, knock” Tiana barged into Nevaeh’s room to find the American- Wakandan sitting at her  vanity. The immigrant jumped, spilling eye shadow on the pure white vanity. “I don’t understand why you bother pretending to knock if you are just going to barge in anyway,” she sighed, cleaning the eye shadow from under her eye.

Choosing to ignore the question, Tiana flopped on her bed. “You’re still doing your makeup? The party starts in an hour. We’re going to be late. “ The bronze skinned woman replied.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s a party at the palace. I am sure the king will not notice if we are a few minutes late,” Nevaeh groaned, beginning to blend the foundation into her skin. “How would you know, you’ve never even met the king,” Tiana argued.

“Look, are you done getting ready?” Nevaeh paused turning to look at her roommate. “No, but I need to borrow some eyeliner.”

“Take the eyeliner and when you’re finished come get me.” Nevaeh tossed the woman the eyeliner, before digging for her concealer again. Tiana caught the thin tube smoothly before walking over to the vanity with her friend. “Are you excited?” Tiana asked, pulling up the additional stool. “Yeah, I always love parties,”Naveah double checked her highlight before grabbing her lip gloss. “I meant to go to the palace and see the king.”

“Oh sure I guess,” Nevaeh half heartedly replied checking her new message on her phone.

T’Challa: Are you still coming tonight?

A grin spread across Nevaeh’s face.

Nevaeh: Yes, your majesty.

T’Challa: Stop it.

Nevaeh: Are you getting ready for your party?

T’Challa: Shuri and mother are handling that. I am afraid I am quite a hindrance in planning parties.

Nevaeh: I still do not understand what exactly we are throwing this party for.

T’Challa: It’s the first light festival.

Nevaeh: Which is….

T’Challa: I believe Americans call it Valentine’s Day? Except, men give gifts at the crack of dawn, or first light.

“Vae!  Are you even listening to me?” Tiana called. “Huh,” She snapped her head up from her phone. “Did you hear anything I said?” Tiana folded her arms. “Yes,” Nevaeh insisted indignantly. “What was I talking about?”

“Something with the king.”Nevaeh offered. Nevaeh’s phone buzzed in her hand, the light flashing signaling a text message. “Who on earth are you texting,”Tiana asked, watching Nevaeh giggle while replying to the message. “Huh?” the foreigned smiled up at her friend. “That’s it. Let me see the phone,” Tiana reached for the phone. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Nevaeh insisted, hurriedly shoving the phone behind her back. “Who are you texting? I just wanna see!” Tiana pouted. “Did you meet a guy?”

“Maybe…” she trailed off.

For months now Nevaeh has been dating the king of wakanda. As much as the two want to be out in public together, they both know now isn’t the time. Nevaeh is  one of the first immigrants to be moved back to Wakanda under T’Challa’s lost tribe initiative. Her father had been a war dog for the country. While on duty he meet Nevaeh’s mother and  never returned to Wakanda. When Wakanda announced the lost tribe initiative to bring the children and foreign spouses of the war dogs back to wakanda, Nevaeh immediately applied for herself and her mother.

The king met each of the first ten immigrants, wanting to be the first to welcome them home. After running into each other several more times in the market, the two exchanged numbers.  After a few months of living in Wakanda, Nevaeh realized what T’Challa had known all along. While Wakanda was welcoming immigrants with open arms, they were not yet ready for a foreign queen. So the two agreed to keep it to themselves, and when Nevaeh met Queen mother and Shuri. Everyone ,except Shuri, agreed that they should wait a while to go public.

“It’s nothing serious yet,” she lied. “Is he going to first light?” Tiana asked.  “I think so,” Naveah shrugged. “If you see him promise me you’ll introduce him,” Tiana demanded, watching as her roommate carefully packed all of her make up away.

“Of course,” Nevaeh smiled, guilt settled in her stomach. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe someone was rushing me to get dressed,” the woman teased. “Right. You’ve got ten minutes before I leave without you.”

“Alright, give me fifteen and I’ll be downstairs,” Naveah smiled, pushing her friend towards the door. “No ten Vaeh, you have ten minutes till I-”Tiana’s muffled voice floated through the door as Naveah pushed it closed.

The car ride to the palace was short. Music blared in the car as the blue light from the moon washed over the girls’ skin. Tiana pulled the car into the drive of the palace, handed the keys to one of the valets ,and waited patiently as Nevaeh gathered her dress train and followed her out of the car. The two girls helped each other to fluff out the bottom of their dresses, before making their way up the stairs.

“I knew I should’ve bought those roll up flats to put in my clutch,” Naveah sighed, pulling the bottom of her dress up with one hand as she climbed the large stairs to the palace. “We’re almost there,” Tiana reasoned above her.

The two finally reach the top, their dresses brushing gently against the grass of the manicured gardens. The scent of the flowers floated along the night breeze. Accompanying all the guests as they milled around, majority of them moving towards the large ballroom. The bass of afrobeats flowed from the open balcony doors. Pulsing through the marble floors in time with the clicking of Neveah’s heels. Lights were strung everywhere, illuminating the gardens below. A large chandelier cast the ballroom in a luminescent glow. Couples filled the dance floor, bodies moving sync with each other.

Nevaeh’s heart soared as she looked around the ball room. She spotted Queen mother and Shuri out of the corner of her eye. Smiling, she bowed her head in acknowledgement as they did the same. She followed Tiana to the snack table, before her friend was pulled onto the dance floor. The Wakandan-American watched from the sidelines before glancing at the large staircase. The king stood at the top, grinning as he locked eyes with her.

Naveah returned his grin and bowed slightly, chuckling at the frown that crossed his face. “I see you found the king,” Tiana materialized next to her. “You should go talk to him.” Tiana nudged.

“Me?” Nevaeh’s mouth dropped open. “You think I could get the king?”

“Yeah, why not?” Tiana frowned.

“I’m a foreigner.”

“Just cause you weren’t born here, doesn’t make you any less Wakandan than the rest of us. Vibranium runs through your veins, same as it does ours.” Tiana insisted.

“I think I’m just gonna catch some fresh air,” Naveah excused herself, quickly weaving her way through the crowds, finally emerging onto the quiet balcony. The night sky spread out before her. She watched as the sky turned from black to purple before her eyes. She sighed at the beauty that was Wakanda. Nature in all her beauty.

From behind, someone cleared their throat. “I am afraid that this area is reserved for the royal family and their guests only madam.” Nevaeh tensed, quickly turning to address the speaker. “I am so… T’Challa,” her rushed apology melted into a grin. “Hello my love,” the king chuckled, moving to embrace the woman before him. Nevaeh melted into his warm embrace. His scent filling her with a sense of home. “You look absolutely stunning,” the king smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Thank you,” she blushed.

“Why are you not inside?”

“There is not really a point is there?” Nevaeh frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The only person I want to dance with, or accept a gift from, is you. We both know we can’t do that. At least not in public.”

T’Challa glanced at the rising sun, “Well if my beautiful girlfriend will accept me, I would love to present her with a gift. Do you accept my intentions?”

A dopey grin spread across the American’s face. She gently bit her lip and nodded in reply. The king motions to a Dora who hands him a small black box. “Thank you,” he smiles, his eyes never leaving his love’s. He hands the box to Nevaeh. She gently pried it open, a beautiful vibranium and diamond ring sits nestled inside. Nevaeh’s eyes grow wide, her heart beginning to tremble inside her chest, “T’Challa I thought we…”

“I know. It’s not an engagement ring though. I remembered that you loved the planet saturn,” the king begins, prying the ring from it’s box. “My original plan was to have them dedicate the planet to you,” the king revealed, closing the black box and placing it in his pocket. “You tried to buy Saturn. Like the huge gas giant, planet, extraterrestrial being, saturn?”

“Well dedicate, not buy per se,” T’Challa tried to clarify. “T’Challa, you can’t dedicate an entire planet to someone,”Nevaeh giggled. Only T’Challa would go to such lengths for her. “I beg to differ entle.The only reason I did not go through with it was that you could not see the planet anytime you wanted. So mother and shuri suggested I go with something much more ‘practical’”. T’Challa reaches for her right hand and gently slides the ring on her finger. “Press the diamond gently,” the king implored her.

The woman gently pressed the diamond. A projection of saturn floated above the ring. The planet rotated real time infront of her. “Shuri updated it to project a hologram of saturn anytime you would like to see it.” The king explained. Tears formed in the corner of Nevaeh’s eyes. “T’Challa, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. It is absolutely breathtaking” she admired the ring that now adorned her finger. “I don’t know how I am going to explain this to Tiana though,” She laughed, dabbing the tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Would you like to see what else it can do?”

Taking her slight nod as an encouragement, T’Challa gently places her hand behind his ear. The ring connects to his identification tattoo and his heartbeat began to pulse inside the ring. The accompanying audio plays out loud with the projection. Nevaeh stands frozen as she is surrounded by the sound of him. “Anytime you start the projection, the ring will play my heartbeat along with it. That way I am always with you.”

Nevaeh pulls him back into her embrace. “I love you so much,” she cries. “I love you too entle,” the king smiles. “This is my promise. I may have to leave, and go on missions for days or weeks. But, like saturn, I will always return to you.” his hands gently cupped her face. Nevaeh simply nods, at a loss for words. The sun rose steadily behind the two, and the party drew to a close around them. “Happy Valentine’s Day my love,” Nevaeh murmured minutes later. “Happy Valentine’s,” T’Challa replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

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