#erik killmonger series

[artisticestheticreads]

Me just waiting for y'all to see the new chapter of SummerTime Magic:

-SWEET BABIES-

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

[chaneajoyyy]

There was a series a while back where OP wanted to work for Dreamville and Mack Wilds was her play brother I think. Do you remember what it was?

Hey love! I sure do! It’s called Killin’ Him Softly series by my good sis @eyeknowmywrites 🩷

[guardian-angel12]

Can we just take a moment to appreciate how accurate and stunning the What If? Faces were to the real actors?

On a side note how similar Kraglin and Peter look here

[kyokiou]

Hi! It's Lou. I'm a writer (or at least I was, hehe). How are you? I really want to get back to work here but I don't know how to do it! What would you like to read? More Squid Game smuts? K-dramas in general? Specific TV shows? Waiting for answers. xoxo'!

[essaysbyciara]

Darkness Into Light ['Layton Road' bka Fireworks Part VII] [FINALE]| Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Reader

FIREWORKS | BIRTHDAY CANDLES | STEAM | NEON SIGNS | GREEN LIGHT | RED LIGHT SPECIAL

Warnings: Gun violence (no mentions of blood), language, lightweight mentions of sexual situations (smut thoughts)

Peace! We're at the end of Layton Road better known as "Fireworks". I will be posting this on Wattpad for all of my Wattpad girlies. Check my masterlist for the link. Thanks for hanging on for the ride with Kill. He's a fave. Much love :)

"...You’ve reached the voicemail box of 41.."

That salutation became a common occurrence since the last night you saw Kill. In the middle of the romance session you both wished for, a phone call of another sort kept breaking up the fun. Unlike you, they wouldn’t leave a voicemail. They called and called, pace after pace, second after second, in hopes that Kill would pick up the phone. It wasn’t until you pleaded with Kill to kill the noise of his phone that you would hear the news you were afraid of: that somebody almost killed his cousin, King. 

The static you felt at The Luxe was real, live and uncut. The dudes Kill and King both told you not to worry about couldn’t believe those dudes from 40th had the gall to step into their spot, or what became of it that night. King’s royal demeanor rubbed them the wrong way, originally not enough to ruffle feathers. Peace was kept enough on the inside but once the club let out and one of the young soldiers from 43rd – reveling in the past with several axes to grind – almost hit Bast, the triple OG of the 40th, with his car that all hell broke loose. 

The crews from 40th and 43rd, who could see the static brewing, tried to keep it peaceful and begged the young guys from both sides to relax. Truthfully, the rivalry between the blocks was of the past; marriages, babies and business between both neighborhoods came to be since the OGs of both crews went onto the ancestral plane. The young ones – souped up on Durk and Lil' Baby, brown liquor and ignorant nostalgia – wanted to resurrect old scores despite everyone, including Kill and King, telling them to chill out.  

The parking lot sparked their fervor to remember a past they weren't around for. 

So not-so-pleasantries were thrown, threats were made, trunks were popped and shots were fired. King got hit trying to rush his date-for-the-night into his car. He wasn't the intended target but that didn't matter. A dude from 40th got hit and a dude from 43rd wanted so badly to be seen as responsible. 

"Hey, Erik. It’s [y/n]. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. Uh … no pressure. We’ll talk when we can. Peace." 

You didn’t want to pressure him into returning your texts or calls. That felt rude. Injecting your own feelings into the moments where Kill’s feelings were paramount felt callous. Missing him didn’t equate to Kill almost missing his cousin in the physical sense. So you fell back out of what-you-felt-like was respect. Even as you wished to complete you and Erik’s love story. 

That night still feels surreal. Kill’s eyes transformed into bleak darkness, leaving you to peer into the depths of someone controlling their rage so as to not scare the people around them. You didn’t know what to do. Filled with compassion, you wanted to hug Kill and tell him that it’s going to be okay. You gave good hugs too. Such an inert Christian response; Moms and Pops unfortunately taught you well. That didn’t feel right at the moment, though. You didn’t know the status of King’s life. You, again, didn’t want to disrespect. Kill almost leaned into his vault of ungraciousness. Ignoring your stoic and shocked face and tone, he told you, “you gotta leave.”

The mole hill in your throat turned into a mountain. Snapping your neck back in good Black-woman fashion, you hastily grab your heels and fasten the ties around your ankles boiling with your own waters of rage. You never paid for a Lyft so fast, damn the surcharge. 

No thanks for getting him out of The Luxe in time. No thanks for making him answer the phone. Again, selfish responses in a moment where it was okay for Kill to think about self. Kill felt guilty for leaving but he couldn’t tell you that. He didn’t want the guilt to imprint on you. 

But something told you to stop. Something told you to lead with empathy. Something – or maybe Someone – said to slow down and show love even if Kill’s curt-ass didn’t-but-did  deserve it. 

“You okay to drive to the hospital?” 

Kill snapped out of his inward fury. He felt you shut down, felt you afraid. Everyone is always afraid of Kill. He didn’t want you to follow their direction. “I’m cool. I’ll drop you off at your house though.” 

“It’s okay. The Lyft is two minutes away. I don’t want to take you out your way.” Coogler Hospital was just a mile away from your house. It wasn’t out of the way but you wanted to get out of the way of Kill’s grief. 

Before Kill could petition you to change your mind, your phone vibrated from the alert that your carriage awaits you outside. You didn’t hold on for Kill to hug you or say sorry. You walked out the door and sent a kite his way. 

I’m close to Coogler if you need anything. LMK. 

Months later, you guessed that he didn’t. You hadn’t heard from him since. 

Kill’s IG post saluting his cousin’s recovery signaled that everything was okay. You double-tapped your support and kept scrolling. Then the right corner of your screen lit up with the number one. Kill wanted to see how his should’ve-been-number-one was doing. 

Hey. How you been? 

Okay. How are you though? 

Kill feared you asking that question. That’s why he’s been ducking and dodging your texts and calls. Equal parts him not wanting to recount that night and equal parts having to answer why he ducked out on you, he comes up with a skin tight response. 

I’m cool. Not much going on over here. 

What a lie. There’s lots going on, lots left to discuss. But you play it cool. Hopefully this reintroduction into your life will mean conversations about what happened in the future. No need to maybe-trigger Kill. 

Word. Good to see King is doing well. And you too. 

Kill wasn’t doing okay. Super protective of family, he thought of all the bloody things he could do to those cats just a mere few blocks away. The intense scene at the hospital felt like a murder plot. Police cars were called. The hospital feared for the worse. Kill didn’t want you to drive him to the hospital because he knew that would happen. You didn’t need to witness all of that. He wanted to protect you from a scene you didn’t need to see. 

Erik felt your care through your message. He owed you a thanks and an acknowledgement. Bracing his heart for a response not-so-kind, he sends a note of gratitude for that night. You respond in-kind. 

I’m just glad y’all are okay. 

What else was there to say beyond those words? It felt wrong to flirt, it felt wrong to lust after him. Since that night, he’d been posting his escapades from the gym. You really wanted Kill to bench press you into submission. All you could do is like his stories, which he peeped every time. It signaled to him that you were still on his bumper, thankful he didn’t lose you in his gnarly traffic of his own guilt, grief and shame. Truthfully he thought about crunching and curling your body too, remembering that he was so damn close that night until the reason for the distance happened. 

Erik's heart begged that every song you would post on your IG stories as a sign that you were leaving the porch light on for him. "I Miss You (Come Back Home)" by Monifah. "One Mo' Gin" by D'Angelo. "Come Over" by Faith Evans. "Can't Stay Away" by Bootsy Collins. He wasn't the type of dickhead who only reappeared when he wanted some ass. He knew better. Didn't erase the desire or the fire to get to know more about you. He felt your goodness. More conversation would confirm it. 

He didn’t want distance anymore. Feeling as if you would still be down to get to know him, with seconds of the clock, he aims for the basket. 

I’m off tomorrow. You wanna grab dinner or something? Just to catch up. I’m sorry for disappearing. Shit was just rough. 

A sly smile forms on your face. 

I know it did. I understand. That night was a lot. 

You wait to confirm for tomorrow. He has to sweat just a bit. 

I’m down. I rather talk in person anyway :)

You needed to see that face and get that hug. Hugs that swallowed you into the craters of his heart. You really missed those. 

Walk around Care after? 

You couldn’t contain the fireworks going off inside of your heart. Here’s to a second chance. 

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy,  @twistedcharismaaa,  @sheabuttahwrites,  @ghostfacekill-monger,  @blackburnbook,  @cecereads209, @lishabaybeee-blog

[galatially]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐈𝐈: 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, a bit of a come down from the beginning lol

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — who are you to make my heart flutter? who am i to be affected; mornings after aren't all they crack up to be

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.6K

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i was rereading this and got nostalgic so here y'all go lol

Dull pain housed itself behind your eyes. 

The sun was too bright and were the birds louder this morning or did they know you were in pain?

You groaned, your hand exploring the expanse of sheets and pillows to find your phone. When sleep dissipated from your vision, you saw four voicemails: three from Theo and one from Erik.

The previous night’s events played in your mind’s eyes like hazy vignettes, fractals of whiskey-sodden movements and hot skin scorched with callused pads of fingers. You shook off the memories and played the first voicemail. 

“Y/N, baby. Pick up.” 

Your throat seized at how bored Theo’s tone was. Like he was speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. 

“You know that we can’t work through this if you don’t answer when I call.”

“Where are you? Your car wasn’t in its spot in the parking space and no one’s heard from you. Call me back.”

“If you want to be a bitch about all of this, fine.”

Wetness hit your collarbone and your free hand wiped at your cheek. You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t break. Not over him. 

Your thumb hovered over Erik’s voicemail; just ten seconds. You took your lip between your teeth. If you were honest, you’d forgotten that you’d had each other’s numbers. Probably one of those cordial things that friends of the other’s partner does. You let out a shallow breath and pressed play.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Erik. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay. If you ever want to talk about, y’know, anythin’, I’m here.” He blew out a breath. “Bye, Y/N.” 

His voice, whiskey-warm and low, made your belly tighten. Again, your mind’s eye played back the events of last night. How his breath against your ear made your knees weak and your body shudder. How his skin on your sweat-slick skin felt like delicious flames. Your thighs clenched and your mouth watered at the memory of him stretching you out. You pinched the front of your shirt between your forefinger and thumb, circulating some much needed air between your hot skin and the the thin fabric. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Erik before now. You’d even made a few offhanded comments that caused several petty fights between you and Theo to the point he’d stopped inviting you to functions where Erik could be present. But last night was different. You hadn’t been alone with Erik before and you were ready to have him take you in the middle of a dance floor. With other half-drunk patrons on all sides. You’d never been that reckless with Theo, never even wanted to be that reckless with him. 

Your phone chimed and you jumped; it was a text from Erik. 

Did you make it home okay? I didn’t hear back and got worried

Emotion lodged itself in your throat. 

Some small, deprecating part of you wanted to denigrate the feeling, chalk it up to jumping into the first physical intimacy you’d had in what seemed like ages. Another wanted to fall — fall so hard, so fast, that you wouldn’t recognize yourself after the impact. You’d become a stranger, a woman consumed. 

Before you could stop yourself, you drafted out a text. Your eyes flitted from left to right, surveying the blue bubble for any signs of overeagerness. Before you could second guess yourself further, you hit the blue arrow. 

Meet me for coffee at Jeannie’s?

You chewed your thumb nail, your eyes glued to the café entrance. 

Your knee bobbed in time with your thoughts, errant and sedentary, flitting between focused and dissociative. You’d tugged at one of your plaits a few times without even noticing. Fidgeted with the sleeve of your sweater and adjusted the rings on your fingers. Your eyes flitted around the café, half-recognizing classmates and friends of friends. You looked down at your watch again; half past nine. 

He could’ve decided not come. It’s not like he owed you anything. 

You shook your head; barring what happened at the club, why were you nervous? You’d been around Erik plenty of times before. 

Except back then, you were with Theo. And one of the times that he caught wind of you and Erik being “familiar”, he stopped inviting you out with him. That was probably one of the nastiest fights you’d had with Theo. You rubbed at the skin of your wrist at the memory.

The bell above the door rang and your vision fixed on the form coming inside. 

His locs were plaited in two braids to the back, bringing his sharp jawline into focus. The scruff of his cheeks ghosted at the back of your neck. He wore a denim jacket over a sinfully fitted black turtleneck and matching jeans, a gold chain hanging loose around his neck. When Erik’s gaze found yours, you sucked in a breath. His hand rose in a half wave and he started towards you. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He sat down across from you, a small smile on his lips. “Lecture ran late.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t been here long.”

Erik snorted. “You’re early to everything, Y/N. What time you get here? Eight forty-five? Eight forty?”

“Eight thirty,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t want to order until you got here. I don’t know what you like.”

“Coffee, two sugars, splash of oat milk.”

You raised a brow. “Oat milk?”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” he said, a smile quirking up at the corners of his mouth. 

“Huh. I never knew that.” You motioned to the server and put in your drink orders. “Did you want something to eat?”

“Nah.” Erik’s eyes burned into yours. “I’m not hungry right now.”

You cleared your throat and politely sent the server off. “So, about last night.”

“What about it?”

“We can’t do that again.”

Erik frowned. “If you think I’m expectin’ anythin’ — ”

“I’m not! I just wanted to make sure that we were both on the same page. I just got out of my thing with Theo and even though you say y’all aren’t friends, y’all have mutual friends and float in the same circles. I can’t jump into something with you when I’ll have to keep seeing him.”

“I’m not tryin’ to push you into somethin’, Y/N. I genuinely didn’t know that was you last night.”

“So, it’s normal for you to go around finger fucking girls in clubs?”

“I’m not opposed to it,” he said, mirroring your bold tone. “You let strange men finger fuck you in dark clubs often?”

“The Y/N you met and the Y/N in front of you are two different people. I can’t speak to her intentions.” 

“Word?” Erik laughed, pretty white teeth on display. “She seemed fun.”

“If you like drunk Y/N more, just say that,” you teased, rolling your eyes. 

“I like any Y/N you’ll give me.”

“Even if it’s platonic?”

“If you just want to be friends, Y/N, we can be just friends. I’m not gon’ rush you into anythin’ just because we happened to be physical one night.”

You smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t want to make this any more awkward than it already is and push you away without an explanation.”

“So this is goodbye?”

You furrowed your brows. “No?”

“No?” 

“I want us to start over.” You held out your hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Erik smiled a dimpled smile and reached forward. You tried to ignore how his hand swallowed yours whole, leaving nothing to the imagination of what they’d look like molded to your body like a sculptor working clay. 

“I’m Erik Stevens. We had a few classes together freshman year, right? I think you stole one of my nice ballpoint pens.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t steal it! You gave it to me and I handed it to back to you!”

The corners of Erik’s mouth curled. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Erik Stevens.”

The brisk October air cut against your skin and you shuddered. 

“You cold?”

You rubbed your hands together. “I should’ve worn a jacket over this sweater but it wasn’t this cold this morning.” 

Heaviness sunk onto your shoulders and the heady scent of Erik’s cologne hit you nose. Your wide-eyed gaze flitted to him. 

“You cold right?” 

“What about you?”

He lifted a shoulder and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m cool.”

Your brows creased. “Erik.”

“Y/N,” he mocked, a smirk playing at his lips. 

You rolled your eyes. “You play too much.”

“I’m not playin’. I gave you my jacket to wear ‘cause you’re cold. That’s what friends do, right?” He moved in front of you and nodded to the jacket. “Put your arms out.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me, Y/N.” 

You didn’t mean to hesitate, but this was all happening too fast. Erik fell into being your friend too quickly, barely reacting to the pull he had on you if he even noticed at all. Were you really so different from Erik? Did you feel too deeply, too passionately? Conflated the small physical intimacy between you into something more?

“Hey.” Erik waved his hands in front of your face. “You good?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to him. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

He took hold of his jacket, his features canted into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Everything.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'm such a slow burn enthusiast and for no goddamn reason lol

[indri-on-ao3]

Reblogging as Season 2 is starting.

A closer look to see what everyone was drinking. Thor has mead, Strange probably has a margarita. Star-Lord T’Challa has what looks like a wine glass where the contents are pinkish to bright red. Captain Carter has something with an umbrella – can anyone guess what that is? Gamora and Killmonger have shot glasses. 

[ceceslibrary]

CECE'S FIC RECS

BTS

Updated: April 24th, 2024

Fic Rec list 2

Namjoon

TRY AGAIN | jiminscockr1ng

Tonight We're Dancing | unique-high

"Cry for me" | prettyprincejk

Cleaning Day | gojosnympho

About Love | jjkeverlast

Closer | joon4eva

Between the pages | hwanghyunjinenthusiast

Cross Your Mind | dearlyjoonie

Lifeline | downbad4yoongi

Late Night Texting | hobistyles

My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold | daechwitatamic

Sundress | cheolhub

Doom boy | soft4gguk

Sexy Feeling | btsrunmylife

My Goddess | purpleyoonn

Quid Pro Quo | sopejinsunflower

Dream Girl | nmjoon-n

Rival Academia | aseaofyoongi

Cat and Mouse | aaagustd

Too sweet | teenytinyjimin

Jin

Payment Plan | trivia-yandere

Oh Baby | k00sblogger

Yoongi

Angel | sailoryooons

So it Goes | prodagustd

A New Rhythm | sluttywoozi

Three tangerines | kithtaehyung

Wife | mggsv

Jhope

"Missed you." | dilfhoseokie

Daisies | jeonaachu

Jimin

Disease | piedinthepiper

Camping | swanlakebaby

Missing You | swanlakebaby

My girl | k00sblogger

Daddy's Home | lovecoree

Taehyung

His Special Secret | kooktrash

Craving You | hoseokhasmyheartxx

The End is You and I | yonkimink

Distraction | lovecoree

Jungkook

Malibu | joonberriess

Seven | joonberriess

All mine | tanniefm

Side B!tch...? | bubbbii

Sunkissin' | peachyjeonss

Wild Thoughts | sxtaep

On and Off | gashinabts

The Broken Vow | lleldey

Blackout | jjungxkook

Long Way Home | sparklingchim

Over The Odds | jungk0oksthighs

Between Roommates | kooktrash

Shut Up and Kiss Me | ahgasegotarmy116

I miss you, I'm sorry | teenytinyjimin

Let me take care of you | ahgasegotarmy116

Nothing Serious | kooqitas

OT7/Multiple Members

Boyfriend for Hire | remedyx

All Bite, No Bark | spiderlilyserendipity

3 strikes | mapofthesea

Wolves in Sheep's Clothing | peachypinkgloss

Agains The Odds | jungk0oksthighs

WWE

Jey Uso

White Lies | tribalhoochie

We Ain't Going to Bed Angry | rays-hunter01

She My Bestfriend, Yeah We Ain't a Couple | kyleoreillylover

Mr. Right Now | femdisa

Massage. | miyuhpapayuh

Chasin' | southerngirl41

Warm | msbigredmachine

This is Cinema | romanreignseater

Baecation | tribalhoochie

Jimmy Uso

I Hate You Too | femdisa

Dressing Room. | miyuhpapayuh

Beauty Calls | aintnorainbows

Pull Up | harmshake

It's A Scream, Baby | theninthwonder

Stay By My Side | aalyssah

Tension | visionarymode

Permission | theninthwonder

Can you focus on me? | pr0wlerpunk

Roman Reigns

Lingerie Fun | strawberry-milku

Can't Handle It | visionarymode

Under His Spell | southerngirl41

Forgotten Kisses | uceyreiignss

Michael B. Jordan/Erik Killmonger

I get high, high, high | cocoa-puffs

Just Friends | cocoa-puffs

Freshout | cocoa-puffs

Domesticity | cocoa-puffs

In the Morning | nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Office Bae Series pt. 1, pt. 2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6 | nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Neighbors to Lovers pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4| nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[theereina]

Thee Masterlist

Aaron Pierre

~Terry Richmond

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

😢Bad News (series) => 1 | 2 | 3

💋The "Itch" (one-shot)

😭The End (one-shot)

🗣️Let Me Talk (series) => 1 | 2

🏠Never Coming Home (one-shot)

Michael B. Jordan

~Erik Killmonger

📚Buy Her Books, and Eat Her Pussy (one-shot)

*Last updated 11/20/24

[artisticestheticreads]

Quick Question: After Summertime Magic is done, would y'all like to see a continuation of the fan fic series for M'Baku (The Heat of Trinidad) or T'Challa ( Beauty & the Panther) next? To Catch Up, Please Click Here

@muse-of-mbaku

@im5ftbutmythroat66

@chaneajoyyy

@melanin-samii

@theunsweetenedtruth

@doux-ciel

@unicornluvin8765

@vikkidc

@wakandantings

@thadelightfulone

@mzamethystp

@simbiann

@tropicalsun10

@babydoll756

@notoriouslynay

@vminax

@quinsly

@pinkdemolition

@quietstorm-73

@chaoticcashfancroissant

@bugngiz

@chocolatedippedinhoney

@yafavcocoa

@lostgalaxies

@mbakuwife

@youreadthatright

@babygotl01292003

@acceptyourselfloveyourself

@madamslayyy

@yoyolovesbucky

@theogbadbitch

@wakanda-inspired

@bitchacho25

@toniilaney

@wakandascrystal

@girlsneedlovingfanfics

@raysunshine78

@melodyofmbaku

@hearteyes-for-killmonger

@silenceisplatinum

@thickemadame

@shookmcgookqueen

@heykillmongerluhme

@fonville-designs

@cutewylie​

@allhailqueennel​

@10bsatatime

@nickidub718​

@lildashofmelanin

@allhailqueennel

@amirra88

@hakunalive4eva

@ghostfacekill-monger

@thickemadame

@ladymac82

[chaneajoyyy]

Do you know which Erik x reader story has where they meet at a pro basketball game and he has a little sister that he’s taking care of. They were fans of opposite teams and later in the story there’s an ex girlfriend that tries to butt in and hits Erik’s sister and tried to kill reader. Trying to give as much detail as I can remember. Forgot the author and the name of the story and now I can’t find it 😩

That's all the detail I need! I'm pretty sure that's Foul Play series by the good sis @dessianna1 (which I need to catch up on myself)!

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 31

Part 31: Girl on Fire

Series Masterlist

Words: 6.7k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, references to sexual violence. Strong language, dismemberment, and physical violence. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bucky’s phone rang, it didn’t surprise him. When he saw Kat’s number… They didn’t have plans tonight. Why the hell was she calling?

“Hello,” Bucky said, pausing the cage match he’d been watching.

“Bucky?” Kat sniffled, tears in her voice.

“Yes?”

“I’m at the hospital,” she said, clearing trying not to sob.

“Have you been hurt?” he asked, pulling the lever to sit up in his recliner. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s my sister, Paulina.”

Ah. “What happened?”

“She’s unconscious,” Kat managed. “I don’t know what happened. But neither of us have insurance…”

Neither of them was legal residents of the US either. Bucky sighed.

“I’ll send someone down there,” he told her, ready to get back to his fight. Before his hand reached the lever on his chair, she started sobbing in earnest.

“Please,” Kat begged him. “Will you come down here?”

Kat wasn’t usually so needy. Usually, she stuck to their agreement. Something had her shaken up.

“Give me a few minutes,” he said before hanging up. Shaking his head, he shot a text to his men telling them he needed the car ASAP.

Erik Killmonger was there in less than five minutes. He’d been a soldier for the Barnes family for the last five years. The entire time, he’d handled the tasks that he was given. He never failed, followed orders to a fault, and was always quiet and respectful, Bucky’s three favorite qualities in a soldier.

Erik’s ambition had been obvious from the beginning. It was in the confident way he walked, the efficient way he took care of business. It was there when he asked Bucky if he could serve him personally. Since then, he had Erik reporting directly to Hansen, and he showed the same respect to him.

The two men were comparable in their abilities, evenly matched when it came to killing a man. But where Hansen liked to put on a show and preen around, psychologically breaking down his prey, Erik was silently lethal. Bucky had to wonder if half of the men he’d sent him to kill even saw him coming.

Now that Hansen was wherever the fuck Hansen was, Bucky didn’t believe for a fucking minute the bastard was dead, Erik was his top lieutenant. Maybe he should have been all along.

He’d put the man in charge of finding Hansen. Erik knew him better than he did. Bucky’s only request was that Hansen be brought in alive. Bucky wanted to kill the fucker himself. The betrayal signed his death warrant. The fact that Hansen thought he was going to just make off with the woman Bucky coveted, the bright jewel in the crown he'd soon wear... Bucky was just sorry he could only kill him once.

“Where we off to?” Erik asked, ready to go.

“The hospital,” Bucky said, following him out to the garage. “Kat’s sister is there. I don’t know what happened yet.”

Erik held the door open for Bucky to climb in the back of the huge SUV. Walking around, Erik took a seat in the front next to the driver.

Bucky caught Zemo’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to the hospital. St. Agnes," he told him.

When they reached the hospital, pulling up to the door at the ER, Zemo again met his gaze in the mirror. “Should you be going in there, boss?” he asked respectfully.

“He can go wherever he wants,” Erik said, opening his door. “Nothing’s going to happen to him.”

Damn right. Very soon, Bucky would be the goddamn king of Boston.

He waited while Erik inquired about Paulina, speaking to the older woman at the emergency room desk. His man led him past the desk, swiftly through a maze of corridors until they found Paulina’s room. Kat looked grateful when they arrived, her dark eyes still shiny with tears when she opened the door.

Paulina lay in the hospital bed, curled in on her side. Her hair was a wild tangle around her head and her face was streaked with makeup and tears.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, moving to stand at the foot of the hospital bed. Erik closed the door, staying close to it.

“We went shopping,” Kat explained in her tear-filled voice. “Our car dropped her off first at her apartment building. And then… I w-went home.”

“So she was attacked in her apartment?” Bucky asked.

“I didn’t see it happen,” Kat went on. “But she didn’t make it into her apartment. Someone found her in the hallway… One of her neighbors called an a-ambulance.”

Great. More people in his business.

“My number was the emergency contact on her phone,” Kat went on. “They called me.”

“I’m sorry this happened, Kat,” Bucky said, his patience slipping. “But you didn’t need me to come down here to pay the bill.”

“What if this wasn’t random?” Kat asked.

“What else would it be?” he countered.

“Steve,” she said. “I think Steve is behind this.”

Bucky shook his head. “Why would you think Steve had anything to do with this?”’

“Why?” Kat threw her hands up. “Isn’t it obvious? With everything you’ve done to him? With you taking me away from him? He’s hitting back.”

That had Bucky chuckling. Yeah, he’d put Rogers through some things. And it wouldn’t be long until he finished Rogers, put him and his fucking family down and took the lead that should have been his when the old boss died.

“Yeah, he’ll try.” Bucky stared her down. “But what does that have to do with you and your sister? I didn’t take you away from him. You were all over me when he threw you off to get married if I remember correctly.”

Kat looked affronted. “You took me away from him. Paulina? She was seeing his consigliere.”

“Still not seeing a connection,” Bucky told her, ready to end the conversation.

Ready to end things with her period. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t need Kat.

“Banner betrayed him,” she said. “Maybe that’s why they went after Paulina.”

It was plausible. But why hit his family there? As Kat pointed out, Paulina had been Banner’s side piece. Banner was out of the Rogers’ family and no longer any use to the Barnes family. Honestly, Banner was lucky Rogers let him live. But messing with Banner’s mistress after the fact? It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t Rogers’ style.

That reminded him. Banner had been laying low on Stark’s turf after Rogers ousted him. Then he’d disappeared. Bucky made a mental note to follow up on that.

“Did anyone see who did it?” Erik asked. “Did the neighbor see anything?”

“No,” Kat told them. “They just found her. Beaten… Don’t you understand? She wasn’t robbed or violated or anything else. Just beaten. To hurt her was the point. What else could it be? Am I next?”

Bucky moved closer to Kat, taking her chin in his fingers. She trembled in his grasp, and he knew she was scared. He wanted her to be.

“Pain and death are always the point,” Bucky whispered, gazing into her eyes. “But Steve’s not after you, Katerina. He’s not after you sister.”

Releasing her, he watched indignation and hurt bleed into her expression.

“When Rogers strikes at me,” he explained, “he’ll make it hurt. He’ll make it personal.”

“This is personal,” her voice was rising. “This does hurt.”

“You and your sister maybe,” Bucky told her. “It’s not personal for me. It doesn’t hurt. I’d have to care about you and your sister for this to hurt me and I don’t.”

Tears slid from her eyes now. “You’re wrong.”

Bucky moved closer to the woman on the bed. Her makeup was a mess but on closer inspection, there were no cuts on her face. There could be bruises under the makeup, he supposed. Pulling back a tangled section of her hair revealed her throat. No bruises there or any injuries at all.

Kat said she was beaten. Were they fucking with him?

Grabbing the edge of the blanket covering the woman, he pulled it back to reveal her unconscious form covered by a thin hospital gown with shorter sleeves. He half-expected her arms and the rest of her to be unmarked as well. He was all ready to flip shit on Kat and her sister for wasting his time.

Paulina’s arm? That was a different story. The bruises were red and angry, lacing up from her forearm like macabre artwork. The gown opened at the back, and she lay on her side facing him. Throwing the blanket back, he leaned over to look at the woman’s back. A wild patch of pink and red marks covered most of it. The one contusion right where her kidney was? That had him wincing.

Tomorrow, her skin would be purple, black, and blue and she’d be feeling it. Shaking his head, he pulled the blanket away from the rest of her. More evidence of the beating she’d taken over thighs and upper shins. Nothing close to the ankle…

Kat, still lost in her indignation, glared at him as she grabbed the blanket to cover her sister up again.

“Still think this is random?” she asked, still swiping away tears.

Bucky shrugged as he headed for the door. “I’ll handle the billing,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out.

The entire situation should have left his mind never to return the minute he was back in his car and headed home. Bucky just couldn’t get his mind off it. It was just so off. Why was it done? What did it mean?

Was it a message for him?

***

After finishing his run, Bucky headed for his study to check messages before getting a shower.

“Bucky?”

He jumped at how off-guard she’d caught him. There Kat stood in the door of his study, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Her big dark eyes were on him, a shiny red shopping bag dangling from her manicured fingers.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked irritably. He didn’t like her coming by his house uninvited. She knew that.

“I’m sorry.” She looked it.

As he stood watching her, a sweaty mess behind his desk, she meekly approached him. Stopping on the other side of his desk, she carefully placed the bag on the top of his desk between them.

“It’s for you,” she said forlornly. “Thank you for helping Paulina.”

Blowing out an exhale, he looked at the bag. “She out of the hospital yet?”

Kat nodded. “She’s home. Resting. I’m staying with her since we don’t know who did this… or why.”

Bucky hated wasting the manpower but in the off-chance Kat was right… “I’ll send someone to keep an eye on her place for the next couple of days, okay?”

“And mine?” she asked, flashing him a smile.

“You said you were staying with her,” he pointed out. “You stay with her, someone’s looking after you too.”

The smile faded and he couldn’t even feel badly about it. Kat was one of many. He’d had women who were more beautiful, better in bed. She wasn’t unique. She wouldn’t even be memorable.

And she’d served her purpose a long time ago. He took up with her to piss off Steve, to hurt his wife. While Rogers had been pissed and insulted that Bucky brought his former mistress to his wedding, he hadn’t succeeded in his second objective. The new Mrs. Rogers hadn’t been hurt.

No, the daughter of the old boss and the new bride of his enemy had turned out to be a lioness.

Think of that. The girl had been hidden away like Quasimodo in his bell tower, mutilated and not fit for society. That was what he’d always been told about the old boss’s surviving child. His bitch wife, who’d ripped Bucky’s family apart by having an affair with his father, died trying to get out and killed the man’s son. The daughter was never supposed to be anything for Bucky Barnes to be concerned with.

Even so, Bucky hated her. He’d been glad she was disfigured, glad she’d never be out in the world. He’d even toyed around with the idea of paying her a visit once her father died. Taking care of the disfigured little lamb once and for all.

Rogers had executed his plan well. That he was kissing ass to claim the crown, Bucky got that. He had no idea, however, that Rogers planned to marry the boss's daughter who was supposed to be horribly disfigured. Within a week of her father dying, Bucky gets word that she’s engaged to Rogers and the wedding Is being rushed.

When he went to confront Rogers about it, he was surprised to find her alone and barely dressed in the kitchen. She was uncovered enough for him to see there wasn’t likely a scar or blemish on her. She was amazingly beautiful wearing her whore mother’s face with innocent eyes. That first impression of her had him both hard as a rock and ready to commit murder, right there in Rogers’ kitchen.

Rogers knew what he was doing. He didn’t care who she was, that her mother destroyed the Barnes family. Rogers didn’t care about anything but the throne and it was then Bucky decided he’d do whatever it took to take Rogers’ crown, to take him and his bitch wife out.

But he couldn't get her out of his head. Not once he saw her.

Bucky had assumed for most of his life that Mrs. Rogers was his half-sister. The daughter of his father. After meeting her, he looked into it, knowing her father would have had a paternity test done under the circumstances. With a little patience and a lot of money, Bucky had an answer.

Mrs. Rogers was not related to him by blood. The old boss was her father after all.

By the time he figured this out, Bucky had found his attitude toward Mrs. Rogers shifting. Yeah, he could kill her when he destroyed her husband. No one would be surprised or even blame him.

But he’d never met a woman like her. There was a fire, an iron will, buried beneath the persona. Mrs. Rogers was stunning, beautiful. But according to Loguidice, Rogers’ bride wasn’t just a pretty face. There was a beast in her heart. The lioness could handle her husband, win his men’s loyalty, and even fucking shoot Lloyd Hansen which had been hilarious when his lieutenant had to explain it to him.

And she would be Bucky’s at the end of this. It was going to happen.

Glancing at his current mistress, he knew it was past time to end things. But he’d wait until Paulina had mended. Make sure nothing else was heard about that little incident. Then he’d drop the hammer.

“Do you really care so little about me?” Kat asked him, pulling him from his thoughts.

It wasn’t a bad acting job. Bucky smiled.

“Do we really care about each other?” he wanted to know. “Relationships aren’t based solely on love. That’s the movies. Relationships are based on mutual need. You need someone to give you money to maintain your lifestyle and I need sex and occasionally some arm candy. Don’t make this something more than it really is.”

Hooking a finger in the bag, he peeked into it to see a wad of tissue paper.

Kat watched him expectantly.

Grabbing the bag, he pulled out whatever she had wrapped in that tissue paper. It felt odd in his hand, more than one thing. The first thing he encountered was a small jewel box. Setting the rest down, he opened that to see a set of ruby cufflinks winking up at him from the black velvet.

He had to give her credit. She knew his tastes.

“These are nice,” he told her with a grin. “Thank you… What else do we have here?”

Kat’s brow creased as she watched him pick up the wad of tissue still in front of him.

“There was nothing else,” she said, looking confused.

But there was something else. Peeling away the tissue paper, Bucky stared at the fucking fingers – five human fingers – he held in his hands. In disgust, he dropped them onto the desk as Kat covered her mouth with her hand, backing away in horror.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, staring at those digits.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I didn’t do that. I didn’t… I feel sick.”

Kat dashed from his study like the devil was chasing her as Bucky muscled his way past the revulsion to study those digits. The fingers of a white man, toughened from work. There was no blood. No rings. No scars or other identifying marks.

Grabbing the bag, Bucky looked to see if there was something else. There was. A business card for a donut shop on Rogers’ turf. He recognized the name of the shop.

Fuck.

Bucky hadn’t ordered a hit on that shop or the girl. No, that was all Hansen who took the girl that worked there. Bucky hadn’t known a thing about it until after Rogers’ faceoff against Hansen who had since disappeared.

Bucky studied the fingers again. Were they Hansen’s? He didn’t think so. Hansen had big hands, he didn’t remember the fingers being slender.

Well, they’d find out.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he shot a text to Erik to come right away.

Now he wondered if the attack on Paulina was related. Was it tied to this? Was there more to come?

It would make sense if it was Rogers. But Rogers wasn’t usually so theatrical. He’d hit hard, head on. Anyone who was at odds with him always saw him coming. In his defense, he always hit really fucking hard.

This? It was puzzling. And not Rogers’ style at all.

What game was he unwittingly playing? And with whom?

***

The tap at the door pulled Bucky away from trying to catch up on his investment portfolio, sheets scattered all over his normally immaculate desk. His mind wasn’t on it. He’d been pretending to look at the numbers for damn near an hour.

Erik looked as tired as Bucky felt. He was hoping his lieutenant had some news for him. The episode earlier with Kat and the dead man’s fingers still had him rattled.

“Found out who those fingers belonged to,” Erik got right into it. “Belonged to one of Hansen’s men. One of our guys found the rest of him in a dumpster on your turf. The prints matched.”

Bucky nodded. Hansen likely had the guy pick up the donut shop girl for him. And the ax fell on him because they didn’t get Hansen. Bucky nodded. It was something he’d do.

The donut shop girl. What did she know, if anything, about everything going on? Maybe he should chat with her.

“Hansen’s still alive,” Buck said flatly.

Erik nodded. “There’s no proof he’s not.”

“Anything else?”

His man’s dark-eyed gaze met his. “I sent men looking for Banner, but it looks like he skipped town.”

A wise move on the man’s part.

“You don’t think he targeted Paulina, do you?” Erik asked.

Bucky shook his head. “Not with that temper of his. If Banner decided to do that, she would know it was him. He’d make sure she knew it was him.”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Bucky leaned back in his office chair, tried to relax. To think. “Any word on Rogers?”

“You knew Hansen and Frankenstein grabbed Dyson to draw Rogers out,” Erik said.

“Frankenstein?” Bucky asked.

“Neal Logiudice,” Erik explained. “Pop some bolts on his neck and he looks like Frankenstein.”

Bucky snorted. He could see that.

“Then he was supposed to off Dyson and Logiudice,” Erik continued. “Grab Rogers if he could. Hansen changed the plan. He drew Mrs. Rogers out instead of her husband.”

Bucky was still furious about what happened. Dyson would never betray Rogers and Logiudice was collateral damage. The move was meant to break Rogers down. Dyson’s loss on top of Logiudice’s betrayal would demoralize him. Bucky thought it might just finally finish his rival off.

Instead, Mrs. Rogers showed up, playing right into Hansen’s hand. Then her husband showed up and he brought friends. A shootout ensued. Rogers, his wife, and Dyson made it out. So did Hansen and Logiudice, apparently. And Bucky was out several men. Several good men.

“Does anyone know?” Bucky pressed. “Was Rogers shot?”

“Most likely,” Erik told him. “There’s different versions of the story. Some say he got shot. Some say Dyson got shot. Other say Mrs. Rogers was shot to protect Dyson and Rogers got shot trying to shield her.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky blew out an exhale. Needless to say, whoever did or didn’t get shot in Hansen’s grand fuckup was a moot point. Rogers was fine. He’d apparently had enough of Bucky fucking him and now he was firing back at the Barnes’ family.

There was nothing altruistic about their chosen business. You were either a ruthless bastard or dead. Back when they were both younger and coming up under their fathers’ wings, Steve Rogers had been a cocky, dangerous bastard and Bucky always hated all the attention he got. How Rogers always got away with everything.

Bucky always knew that the minute his father was gone, the minute it was just him calling the shots, that Rogers would fail. Then he’d found another mentor in the former leader of the five families but that didn’t last, and he died too. Bucky just knew that without the mentorship of better men, Rogers wouldn’t make it on his own. He was one hell of a soldier, terrifying if he came after you. But a leader?

Still, something was different. So far Rogers had pulled himself out of the trap Bucky set for him with Hansen, sent him the fingers of one of Hansen’s men in Kat’s little gift bag, and maybe had someone beat the shit out of Paulina, Kat’s sister.

While Kat swore to him she had nothing to do with the fingers, Bucky wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He had her taken to her sister’s place and there she would stay under close watch. He didn’t think either woman had anything to do with whatever the fuck was going on. But he’d keep them under glass for now to make sure.

Rogers?

There was an underlying menace to sending Bucky the dead man’s fingers. It wasn’t just the barbarism of the act. It was multifaceted. It was Rogers letting Bucky know that he knew about the donut shop girl and exactly who abducted her. It was knowledge that she’d been taken under Bucky’s command even if it wasn’t his personal decision. It was accusatory and direct.

It left him feeling unsettled. Bucky had been so close to shutting Rogers down, to finally taking everything he wanted.

And now? Well, he sure as fuck couldn’t slow down now. He couldn’t let Rogers even the score.

“My Vinny’s gotten here yet?” Bucky asked. He’d sent out for food from his favorite restaurant. Vinny’s was the best Italian restaurant in all of Boston and the owner's brother was one of Bucky’s best soldiers.

“I’ll go check,” Erik said, heading off to do that.

It was only a few minutes later that Bucky had his takeout, enjoying it in his recliner while he took in an action movie he’d been wanting to watch. His meal didn’t disappoint. The veal was perfect, just what he’d wanted.

After he’d digested a few minutes, he took his dishes to the kitchen, ready for dessert. The tiramisu was in the fridge and Bucky grinned as he pulled it from its foam box to carefully place it on a plate. With a fresh glass of wine, he returned to his recliner and resumed the movie.

Bucky was two bites in when his fork hit something that felt unexpectedly solid in the layered dessert. Frowning, he worked at using his fork to grab the next bite. But something was wrong. Something was in there…

Taking a closer look, he found something solid in there. Plucking it at with his fingers, he found… meat?

He almost lost his meal to realize that something was the tip of a human ear.

“What the fuck?” Bucky said to himself, his heart starting to race in his chest.

Sitting up in the recliner, he kept digging through the dessert to find an earlobe, just as bloodless as the tip.

It was the dark eye staring up at him that from the bottom that had him screaming, fighting nausea as he slung it all away and sent it flying across the room.

“Fuck me! Fuck me!” he was shouting as Erik and Zemo both raced into the room to see who was killing their boss.

Covering his mouth with a hand, Bucky fled to the bathroom…

***

“I am so sorry,” Erik said for the hundredth time. “I looked in there, but I should have looked a lot closer.”

Soldiers were crawling his house, crawling the grounds. Zemo was at Vinny’s, no doubt tearing the restaurant apart. And he’d specifically requested that Zemo take Vinny’s brother with him. If there was a rat in his ranks or at the restaurant, heads would roll.

Bucky shook his head, sitting in his recliner with his elbows on his knees. He felt like shit. More body parts sent to him set his nerves on edge.

Was it Rogers? If so, he didn’t like the fact that his enemy was running up the score. That really pissed him off. His mind was spinning with the theories forming in his head.

“We’ll try to figure out who those…” Erik shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” Bucky asked, rising from the recliner to glare at Erik. “That’s all I’ve been fucking doing the last three days. You know?”

Erik didn’t drop his gaze, didn’t back down. Bucky admired his quiet accountability.

But it wasn’t exclusively Erik’s fault. It was on all of them. Even him. No one had ever been able to get him directly. People around him, yes. But never him. Taking another drink of his Scotch, his mind spun webs with his instincts. He was starting to form a few ideas on his current situation.

“Boss,” Zemo called, walking into his living room.

Bucky spotted his man, standing a few feet away with a white takeout carton in his hands. He wasn’t going to like whatever was in the box, he knew from the way Zemo shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

“What is it?” Bucky asked, trying to be ready for anything.

“We went through Vinny’s, and we found this in Vinny’s office,” Zemo explained carefully. “It’s for you. Vinny swears he didn’t see who left it and he doesn’t know anything about it.”

“You believe him?” It was an honest question.

Zemo nodded.

Bucky motioned him forward, not looking forward to his latest surprise with the dark red stains at its bottom corners. He plucked the card off the top. It simply read, “Hint: It’s not Snow White’s.”

Bucky really shouldn’t have been surprised to find what appeared to be a human heart in that box. He really shouldn’t have. Once he started laughing, it was hard to quit. His laughter was manic, a stress response. Something he hadn’t done in years.

It’s not Snow White’s.

Erik looked concerned. “I’ll get on figuring out who that is,” he offered.

Laughing, Bucky sank back onto his recliner, still laughing as he set the carton on his end table like it didn’t have a human heart in it.

“I think… I might know who this is,” Bucky said when he caught his breath. “It’s not Snow White’s. What did the magic mirror tell the evil queen about the heart the huntsman delivered to her? The mirror said it was the heart of a pig.” Laughter threatened to halt his conversation as pieces of the puzzle started to slide together in his mind. “This is the heart of a pig.”

His men didn’t speak, looked like they had no idea what to say to that.

“This is making a little sense now,” Bucky told them. “Erik, you and Zemo stay. Everyone else, fuck off.”

The soldiers cleaning and checking everything cleared out fast while Erik and Zemo moved closer.

“Who do you think that is?” Erik asked.

“That?” Bucky pointed to the carton. “That’s the heart of a pig. I’ll be really fucking surprised if it’s not Bruce Banner.”

Zemo’s brows shot up. Neither man spoke.

“Kat was right,” Bucky said. “This is Rogers hitting back. But… it isn’t.”

Rising from the chair, Bucky started pacing. Both men watched him in silence.

“Think about each incident,” Bucky told them as he paced. “Paulina was attacked. Then the fingers, eyes and ears, now the heart. All of it’s personal. It’s very, very personal.”

“Personal?” Zemo asked.

That stopped Bucky. “Don’t you see? Paulina was Banner’s side piece. Someone did a number on her.”

“In a way that could be covered up,” Erik muttered.

“Yes!” Bucky pointed to him. “Exactly. Hold that thought… And now, here’s the cheating, deceitful pig’s heart.” He continued pacing. “The tiramisu? I think that must be Logiudice. He was my eyes and ears in the Rogers household.”

Understanding lit up Erik’s face. “What about the fingers? That guy?”

Bucky shook his head. “The guy Hansen sent to kidnap the donut shop girl isn’t the point.”

“What is the point, boss?” Zemo asked.

“Each of these messages were sent on Rogers’ behalf,” Bucky explained. “But I don’t think they are from the man himself. No, this is someone else… All three messages have one thing in common… A woman scorned.”

Erik nodded, listening. He was always quick on the take. Zemo still looked confused.

“Bruce Banner was married to Rogers’ sister, but she didn’t love him,” Bucky told them. “She loved her high school sweetheart, Clint Barton. Banner knew this. That's why he’d beat his wife where it didn’t show. It's why he shot Barton.”

“Then,” Bucky stopped in front of Zemo. “Hansen got away but I was sent the fingers of the man who took the girl from the donut shop by Hansen’s order. Hansen was my right-hand man. A reminder of the wrong done to that woman.”  

“Explain Logiudice,” Erik said.

Bucky smirked at him. “Oh, I can. He betrayed Mrs. Rogers herself right before we grabbed Dyson. Her husband had restricted her to their bedroom he was so pissed..” An idea with merit.

“You think a woman gave these orders?” Zemo looked puzzled.

“Maybe,” Bucky muttered, as something occurred to him. “I need to talk to one of these women first.”

“Who?” Erik asked.

“I need you to find the girl from the donut shop,” Bucky told them. “I need to see if she knows anything we don’t before I make any decisions.”

***

Bucky was both surprised and pleased to see the girl waiting for him. The park this time of day was quiet with only one man walking his dog, and she was sitting on the bench by the giant sandbox, just as he instructed her.

When he walked around, she didn’t look up. Hell, she probably had no idea who he even was. He didn’t mind keeping it that way. There was no reason she needed to know anything else about their world. All she had to do was be nice, be cooperative, and he’d help her find her way out of his world.

Carefully, like he was trying not to frighten a doe, he sat a couple of feet away from her on the bench, setting the bookbag he brought with him between his feet.

She didn’t look up until he called her name and then, her eyes were wide in alarm. The lower half of her face was covered by a medical mask, maybe because of the flu going around. She’d made herself small, slouching on the bench with her hands folded on her knees.

He introduced himself just as Bucky, that was all she needed to know. Her cold hand was trembling when she shook his. He knew she was scared, and he didn’t intend to keep her long.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

She nodded, her gaze on the floor in front of her.

“I want to apologize to you for what happened,” he said without preamble. “The man who… While he was a soldier of mine, taking you wasn’t an order I gave. I know that doesn’t change a lot for you. But you should know that.”

Again, she just nodded.

“And I do want to help you,” Bucky said slowly, leaning a little closer to her. “I’ve brought you a substantial gift. Enough to help you get back on your feet and back to school somewhere else.”

“What do you want?” she asked quietly.

Bucky grinned. It was a smart question.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “There is something I want. I want to ask you a few questions about your time with him. Will you answer?”

She squeezed her eyes shut at the mention and guilt pricked at him. Hansen was a fucking weirdo, and he could only imagine what he might have done to her. It had him wishing he’d framed the question in a different way. But it was out now so…

“Do you know his name?” Bucky asked her.

“Lloyd,” she said. “Sir.”

Oh, he did not want to know about any of Lloyd’s kinks or hangups.

“He didn’t give you any other names?”

“No,” she said.

“Another man brought you to Lloyd’s house,” Bucky said quietly. “Did you see anyone else. Besides him and Lloyd, in your time there?”

The young woman shook her head.

“Tell me about the day you got out,” Bucky said.

She shrugged nervously. “A man broke down the door and helped me out,” she said. “That’s all.”

Bucky frowned. That didn’t sound right. “You didn’t hear a fight elsewhere in the house? The sound of bullets?”

After a moment, she nodded, still staring hard at the ground before them on the bench. “It was the day before. There was shouting and a fight. Guns…”

So no one found her until the next day. Bucky wasn’t happy about that. None of his men swept the house?

“Where did the other man take you once he got you out?” Bucky asked.

The young woman blew out a long sigh. “To a friend’s,” she said slowly.

He nodded. “I don’t need specifics. I just need to know if you ran into anyone else since you were taken. Did you ever leave his house until the guy got you out?”

She shook her head.

He hated to ask. “Did he let anyone else…”

“No,” she said quickly.

“All right,” Bucky said in a kinder tone. “What can you tell me about the guy who got you out?”

She was still for a moment, before shrugging. “Not much. I wasn’t… trying to look at him.”

“Did you see any women?” Bucky asked. “Any other younger women like yourself, about your size?“ Did she see Mrs. Rogers there?

“No,” she said after a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?” Bucky asked, giving her one last chance to tell him something useful before he handed her the bag of money and told her to get lost.

“Ask about other women?” she asked.

“I was just wondering if you'd seen someone I’m interested in,” Bucky said simply.

“Why are you interested in her?” the young woman asked.

“For many reasons,” Bucky told her as he rose from the bench. “For our purposes here, I’m curious about the part she played in the last few days.”

She sighed again but didn’t move as he stood above her.

Hauling the bookbag off the ground, he held it up for her. It was filled with money, a lot of it, hers for the taking.

“Take this and make a fresh start,” he told her. “But this talk didn't take place. You understand?”

Slowly, she stood, her head ducked making her smaller than him. With a hand, she reached to take the bag from him. She froze. Her hand gripped one of the straps, but she’d stopped moving.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I can’t…”

She couldn't take the money?

“I’ve got it,” another female voice came from behind him, with a Russian accent. Before he could turn to see who it was, he felt the blade pierce his clothing, pierce his skin before sliding into his flesh at his side. The fuck?

The pain didn’t subside when the blade was pulled free as he expected. The pain grew in intensity, spreading out from the wound.

Was the blade coated in poison?

The woman in front of him now held the backpack in one hand, pulling the mask from her face with the other. Bucky's pain was breathtaking and had him gasping as he dropped to his knees, gripping his side with his hand and listening to shouts from his men drawing closer.

Bucky stared up in pain and rage at the woman he now recognized as Mrs. Steve Rogers.

“You!” he managed. “You fucking bitch! You’re… You did this?!”

Her eyes were fierce on him. “I did,” she said.

"Evil bitch," he hissed.

"When all of you commit violence, you're protecting your family," she explained angrily. "When I commit violence, I'm an evil bitch."

His gaze darted to the backpack and back.

“And you’re taking the fucking money… too?”

Yelena Belova was there, trying to pull her away.

“I’m giving it to her,” she said as Belova pulled her away. “Just like you wanted.”

Bucky's mind was a mad whirl of thoughts as pain strengthened its grip on him. It was her. Not her husband. Did that mean...?

"Is Steve even alive?" he managed.

She held his gaze. "He is."

"He's not in good shape," Bucky shot back, hating how the pain rendered him unable to wring her neck. "He wouldn't let you... He's bad off if you..."

"We have to go," Belova urged her, grabbing Mrs. Rogers' arm and pulling her behind her in earnest.

“I’m… I'll get you!” Bucky promised, his vision fading to black at the edges. "I'll survive this... and I'll get you!"

"If you survive this," she called back, "Steve will get you."

Then she was gone and his men were there, crowding around him, their shouts fading as he let the darkness claim him.

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989

[starcrossedxwriter]

Masterlist

Here is the master list for all my fics! The date at the bottom is the last time it was updated (I try to keep it as updated as possible)

Thank YOU for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting! I appreciate and LOVE the reception and feedback and commentary more than you could ever know - it fuels me and keeps the inspiration flowing!

All stories have a face claim. However, with all my OCs, I encourage folks to see themselves in the story! Also I love angst BUT all my stories are happily ever afters so enjoy the emotional rollercoasters knowing everyone'll be ok lol Thank you again for reading! Love y'all!

MBJ Fics:

Built for Love Series - Michael B Jordan x Famous OC Reader Charlotte Elsbeth Jordan

Series Summary: Charlotte Bennett was not looking for love when she moved to LA and landed her first role in Creed. Quite the opposite actually. However, her costar, Michael B Jordan, makes her question everything she once believed possible for herself and her future. As she builds a life and relationship with him, ghosts from her past threaten to destroy it all.

Series Warnings: Violence, Mentions of past experiences with DV, Angst, Mature Sexual Content

** SMUT

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6**) (Interlude**) (7**) (8) (9) (10) (11**) (12)

One-shots:

Completely random one shots that follow Charlotte & MBJ as they navigate the world as Hollywood’s Black power couple. Whether it be stardom, their work, parenthood, or relationship drama, the Jordans are building a love that will last a lifetime.

Protective

Oscar Night Part 1** (Part 2**)

Bleeding Through (1)

Falling Apart (1) (2)

Date Night**

Asks:

Nicknames

GQ Couples Quiz

Wicked Fantasies - MBJ x Black OC

Moodboard: coming soon!

Series Summary: Raven’s life, as of late, was one unexpected turn after another. It seemed as though every time she got a break and could get her head above water, something came tumbling to knock her back down. As she struggles to get her foot in the door of LA’s call girl scene to make extra money, she stumbles upon her big break: Michael B. Jordan, Hollywood’s most famous, talented, and notorious actor, director, and playboy. One night of pleasure for him would solve many of her continuously mounting financial problems. However, an unlucky trip to the hospital and an ill-timed flash of a paparazzi’s camera snag her the proposition of a lifetime, one that would solve all her problems and allow her to live out her most wicked fantasies with the sexist man alive. However, she forgot one cardinal rule: fantasies and pretend never last and reality would always come around eventually. 

Warnings: Mature sexual content (18+), HEAVY Dom/Sub storyline (the whole nine), this is for the kinky girlsssssss, angst

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11.1)

Asks:

Late Nights

MBJ Requests:

A Love That Never Fades (MBJ x OC)

Erik Killmonger Fics

Unbreakable - Erik Killmonger x Black OC

Moodboard: Coming soon!

Series Summary: Naja, the younger sister of the Queen of Wakanda, hated few things. And at the top of that shortlist: Prince N’Jadaka. Well, if she were honest, he was the entirety of the list. Once destined to be a princess of Wakanda, Naja was the picture of kindness and grace. Now, she is hailed as Wakanda’s most fearless, dangerous, and reclusive war dog. After more than a decade of putting as much distance as possible between her and the life she almost had, Naja is forced to come face to face with the person she hates most again. With a threat looming over Wakanda and lives at risk, Naja must decide if trusting Prince N'Jadaka is worth the risk before it is too late.

Warnings: Angst

(1**) (2)

Last Updated: May 31, 2024

[chaneajoyyy]

Not him eating my cornbread!! Does he not know I'm pregnant?!?!🙃. The last piece that I was fixing for!!! Something's gonna have to happen! Lemme call up Shuri cause this has to be fixed!!! I mean it is close to my due date but mama gots to eat! But I get what I want so…🤷🏽‍♀️. And he has to know that he can't do that!🤭. This was so cute!!🙌🏾💓👏🏾👍🏾.

Cornbread (1)

Killmonger x pregnant!reader / part one

Warnings: None, just super fluffy, and in this AU, Erik’s father never left Wakanda but he did pass at the same time as in canon, Erik just grew up surrounded by the rest of his family instead

As you looked amongst your closet, the growing mound on your front told you that most of your clothing wouldn’t properly fit you anymore right now. Carrying your fiancé’s big headed baby boy had given you enough reason to buy larger sized clothing ahead of time. Of course, most of the clothes you wore were Erik’s, seeing as he was almost an entire foot taller than you.

You reached your hand inside and pulled out one of Erik’s Nike tech outfits, the much larger size telling you that as long as you didn’t spill anything on it, and your baby didn’t suddenly decide to come two weeks early and have your water break whilst sitting on the couch, Erik wouldn’t be upset once he saw you in it.

Said man had already taken his leave to go to work, a job you knew very little about but didn’t care to know much. You had your dream Cadillac in the garage and subscriptions to Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, and Disney+ and more than enough good food in the kitchen. Whether it needed to be made or even just removed from the packaging, you couldn’t be happier with the selection. Erik always made sure you had your favorites, which at the time were goldfish crackers, plantain chips, ice cold water from your preferred refillable water bottle, and your soon-to-be Auntie-in-law’s homemade cornbread, which Erik would either take you to get personally from her in Wakanda or he would go get himself.

For a royal family that could have any chef they desired and any food they could ask for at their finger tips, Queen Mother making cornbread always seemed to brighten your mood no matter what.

As you looked in the fridge for your cornbread, you looked at the container the cornbread was in had been gone, and taking a quick glance at the sink, you knew exactly why.

‘You ate the last piece of cornbread?!’ You sent to your fiancé’s phone, fingertips typing ten words a second at how furious you were becoming. How dare he! Taking the last piece of cornbread he knew you loved and knew he wouldn’t have time to get for another few days due to work. How dare he taken something quick to eat in his late morning that you had wanted first!

After five minutes passed of you staring at the message sitting on “delivered”, it finally changed to “read 11:27am”.

‘…’

‘…’

‘Babygirl, there was only one piece left.’ He replied, having deleted and retyped his message three times as the dots had told on him.

‘That was my last piece! Now there isn’t anymore and I want some! When can we get more?’

‘Maybe Thursday, (Y/n). I don’t know, I shouldn’t be talking right now, okay? I’ll get you your cornbread.’

You glared at the message and simply put a ‘thumbs up’ on it in reply, letting out a long groan of frustration before putting a hand over your belly, in your act of anger, you had forgotten to actually get something to eat. Getting up with a huff, you trudged to the kitchen with much less gumption that you had before. Pulling the box of Lucky Charms cereal from the cabinet and the oat milk from the fridge, you made yourself a quick bowl of cereal, leaving everything out by you as you knew you would want another few bowls.

An hour or so later, still saddened by the lack of cornbread as you munched on the bland tasting plantain chips you had beside you. The mediocre game show on screen made you cringe, it was obvious the contestants were guessing wrong on purpose to the easiest questions just to make the episode hit its target screen time. It annoyed you to no end, but seeing as you binged all your shows and wouldn’t dare taint your mind’s taste buds by risking a new show or movie, you settled.

Out of boredom, you decided to treat yourself, you were cornbread-less, patience-less, and had what the doctors assumed to be a seven to eight pound baby in your belly. Wakanda was only a short ten hour trip by flight, and practically 30 minutes if you could convince your cousin-in-law, Princess Shuri or King T’Challa to send a jet to your house.

You had always known about Erik, well, N’Jadaka, Erik simply being the name he took undercover when he came to America where he met you. You figured out pretty quickly he was the prince, shaving his beard, contacts and a switch from locs to a fade didn’t do as much disguising as he’d hoped, not from you anyway.

You kept his secret while you both attended MIT, as long as he promised to help you pass your physics and trigonometry courses. Aside from numbers and formulas, those weren’t the only things you were happy to take with you once you graduated.

Now having dated four years and being eight months pregnant, with a beautiful 4 carat engagement ring on your finger, and a very strong bond between your fiancé and his family, it wasn’t exactly uncommon for your pregnant self to call the princess and king if you needed something while Erik was at work.

Dialing Shuri’s kimono beads with your own she’s given you, it was almost immediately she answered, a large smile on her holographic face.

“(Y/n)!! It’s great to hear from you!! How are you and my nephew? Sleeping okay? Resting? Eating well?” She cried, the background of the hologram showing she must’ve been at work in her lab.

“Hello, Shuri, I’m doing very well thank you, M’Jabe too. Erik ate the last piece of Queen Mother’s cornbread this morning and I was hoping I’d be able to come get more? It’s really been the only thing keeping me—“

“Right away! I’ll speak with cousin later but for now you come here!!” Shuri interrupted, an interruption you couldn’t care less for as it meant you’d be getting what you wanted. “The jet will be there in ten minutes, shall you pack a bag and stay the night again?” She asked.

You’d stayed the night last month, having had phantom contractions that had easily convinced you that you were in labor. Seeing as it had been another four weeks since then, it was obvious you were wrong. Knowing you still had two weeks before your due date, you deemed yourself perfectly fine not to stay long, especially with how busy the royal family were already.

“No, Shuri, but thank you, I’ll stay again in a week or two since M’Jabe will be due then.” You assured her. She nodded solemnly but smiled. “That’s fine, but the next sleepover I’ll be meeting my nephew so I’ll be looking forward to that!”

You let out a laugh and nodded. You and Shuri continued to talk until the jet arrived, having put on a jacket to combat the nipping mid October weather and a pair of fuzzy slippers you loved. Okoye met you at the top of the stairs into the jet, giving you a smile as you walked in, lending you a hand up the steps as you used the other hand to hold your belly.

“Enkosi, General.” You smiled as she nodded and helped you to a seat.

“Of course, (Y/n), it’s good to see you’re doing well, I’d hoped you would with prince N’Jadaka.” She replied, earning a laugh from you and your son who kicked your kidney in agreement. God he wasn’t even born yet and he was heavy handed like his father.

The ride to Wakanda was short of course, and for good reason, you could only feel your drool escaping your lips as you nearer the great castle, as if smelling the cornbread being made already.

Erik called you after you landed and we’re being escorted inside.

“Why are you in Wakanda?” He asked almost immediately after you answered.

“I wanted my cornbread.” You replied matter-of-factly.

He let out an audible sigh. “You’re a trip..” he let out a soft chuckle before it turned into a light laugh. He loved your attitude, and his ability to tame it. “Don’t worry, Babygirl, I’ll be there soon. Tell Auntie and the other two I said hey.”

You smiled and walked along the long hallways with Okoye, her simply going about her duty alongside you. You couldn’t tell if she was just a master of not showing her opinions through her face, or if she truly tuned out your conversation. It didn’t really matter to you.

“Okay, baby, I’ll see you when you get here. And I forgive you for eating my cornbread.” You smiled, rubbing your belly gently.

He let out yet another laugh, but this one came from his gut, he truly found you amusing and that’s one of the things he truly loved about you. You loved his laugh as well.

“Thank you for forgiving me baby. I won’t touch your cornbread again.” He said in defeat, you could hear the smile in his voice and it made you blush. God, even after four years he could make you giggle like a school girl.

“Get here soon, me and M’Jabe miss you lots..” you admitted. Curse your pregnancy tongue.

Erik noticed the small difference in your tone, how sad you suddenly became at the thought of him being so far away. He hated doing that to you, no matter what his duties were. Of course, him working was to provide for the human you both created that was only days away from coming along. You and your baby were his priorities and everything else came second, so as much as he’d want to spend hours and hours tending to your pregnant form and giving you all the treatment you deserved, being able to stay with his family was the next best thing.

“How about you stay in Wakanda until my son comes along?” He asked you, knowing you had already discussed how you wanted to stay in the comfort in your own home until it was time. But you also knew that he was worried about that plan, what if you went into labor and he wasn’t home or couldn’t make it home, he’ll be damned before you had to take yourself to a rinky dunk hospital that charged almost 100k just for birthing the child and even just holding it afterwards, before the baby was born of course.

You went silent for a bit to think it over, you knew what he was worried about but also knew what you wanted. Being hormonal and pregnant, missing your fiancé who couldn’t be there for what you knew wouldn’t be another two hours, and in a castle you hadn’t spent more than a week at a time in, tears welled in your eyes.

You quickly wiped them away and did your best to hide the sudden spiral in your voice.

“How about we talk about that when you get here, baby, I don’t wanna make any decisions without looking each other in the face.” You said, mustering a smile.

Erik nodded, he knew that would make you feel better.

“Alright, baby, that sounds good. I’ll talk to you then, okay? I love you.” He finally said.

“I love you back..” you replied, hanging up the phone and letting soft tears fall as you made it to the thrown room.

Face to face was how you liked to handle things anyway. That how you got M’Jabe to be two weeks away to being in the world anyway.

Well… maybe not two weeks.

[galatially]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐈: 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, fingering (f receiving)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — just for tonight, let me be someone else. someone larger than life and impervious to pain like the pain he gave me; what's a few drinks and a chance encounter with a familiar stranger to a heartbroken girl?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.3K

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i was rereading this and got nostalgic so here y'all go lol

The bass thrummed through your veins.

Tequila and whiskey emboldened you as you swayed your hips in time to the beat, your hands high above your head. You felt the stares from the men and women around you, basking in them. 

Tonight, you transcended. 

Beneath the red and blue lights, you were a different person. You weren't the girl that found her boyfriend screwing another girl on your living room couch. You weren’t heartbroken and you weren’t angry. No, in the heart of the dance floor, curls wild and free, Y/N Y/L/N was invincible. 

An ethereal being amongst humans. 

You felt a presence behind you, hands finding yours hips. Warm air tickled the shell of your ear. “What’s a sweet thing like you doin’ dancin’ alone?”

A breathy giggle bubbled from your lips, one of your hands reaching behind to cup a broad shoulder. “I’m not ‘lone. You’re here.” You ground your ass against the front of his jeans, the skirt of your skintight dress cresting above your hips. His cologne made your head spin and your belly flip. 

His teeth caught your earlobe. “Keep grindin’ like that and I’ll take you right here. People be damned.”

The warning sent a delicious shudder up your spine. “Promise?”

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, reverberating against your back. Lips trailed the curve of your neck and hands held you firm against the growing tent nestled between your barely covered ass. “That turn you on, baby girl?” Teeth nipped at your sensitive skin. “You want me to fuck you in front of all of these people? Ruin this pretty pussy?” 

A thick digit wedged between your thighs, playing at the soaked thong clinging to your lower lips. A strained groan left his mouth. 

“You’re soaked, baby. That all for me?”

Your breath caught. When the last time someone turned you on like this? Had anyone ever turned you on like this? You bucked your hips back against his hand, soft mewls tumbling from your plump lips. 

“Want me to fuck you with my fingers, pretty girl?” He pushed the fabric to the side and pushed three digits into your sopping cunt. The strangled moan lodged in your throat was guttural, almost pained. He wrapped his free arm around your front and held you firm against his chest. “Be cool, baby girl. Wouldn’t want the whole club knowin’ I’m knuckles deep inside you.”

You tucked her bottom lip between your teeth and gave a weak nod. Your skin was on fire and you could feel your nipples stiffen. “Fuck.”

He worked you slow, his thrusts slow and tortuous, stretching you out deliciously. Your first orgasm slammed into you and made your knees buckle. 

You put a hand against his chest. “Wait, wait. We need to stop.”

“You sure?” He removed his fingers, leaving you hollow. “We could take this somewhere private, if you want.”

The invitation was tempting. Damn near irresistible, even. You could be this girl for tonight and in the morning, you’d turn back into a pumpkin. No longer the enigmatic princess in the wild, but the pauper that had to figure who she was again. 

Who were you now that everything you knew was a lie?

You turned to face your sexy stranger, your features canting into confusion. 

“Erik?”

His brown eyes widened. “Y/N?”

Even through post-orgasm hazy eyes, Erik Stevens looked like a god, as if deities bore him from sculpted clay. You went to the same university, shared some Gen Ed classes your freshman and sophomore year. Sometimes you even struck up conversations about classes. His reputation as a love ‘em and leave ‘em type far preceded him, but, at least with you, he was smart and sweet and funny.

Besides, you were already spoken for at the time. But it didn’t mean that you never noticed him.

Your face warmed and canted into a frown. “Fuck.” You pulled down the hem of your dress and pulled a fallen strap back up your shoulder before turning on your heel. If you weren’t sober before, you sure as hell were now.

“Y/N! Wait!”

You cut through the crowd, quickly dodging curious drunken glances as you hurried to the bar. You put a hand up to signal to the bartender, Scott.

He tipped his chin and leaned over the edge of the bar, yelling over the booming bass. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “Can you cash me out and grab my stuff for me?”

Scott gave you a thumbs up and disappeared to the other end of the bar. Before you could look over your shoulder for Erik’s tall frame, the bartender reappeared, your items in tow. 

You slammed down a few notes and threw him a two finger salute.

“Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Everything okay?”

You hoped the smile you gave was convincing enough as you hurried out of the club. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks, carrying the loose curls framing your face in its wake. Tears burned in your eyes, your chest heaving painfully. “Fuck!”

Of course. 

Of fucking course!

Of all the people you could’ve rebounded with, it just had to be Erik, one of your ex’s friends.

Your mind raced with questions: did he know the girl Theo was with? Was she around when you weren’t, draped over his lap while he hung out with his boys?

Were you really the last person to know?

You pulled out your phone and started requesting an Uber.

NOTIFICATION: Your driver, Amelia, will be arriving at 1:45 AM

“Y/N!”

You held in a groan, not sparing him a glance as you spoke. “Nope. We’re not doing this.”

“So I’m just supposed to pretend nothin’ happened in there?” His hand curled around your bicep. “Look at me.”

You snatched your arm out of his grip and turned to face him. The quick movement made your world tilt and your legs buckled. Where you expected to be intimately introduced with the asphalt, you felt a warm mass against your shoulder. You took in a deep breath and looked to Erik, your face warm. “Thank you.”

He nodded and helped steady you. “You gon’ stop runnin’ now?”

“Erik, we can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” you deadpanned. “Theo’s your friend.”

Erik tightened his jaw. 

You crossed your arms and turned away from him. “Just forget what happened. Please.”

“Can I wait with you until your ride gets here, at least?”

You lifted a shoulder and kept your gaze on the street. You anxiously glanced down at your smartwatch for notifications, debating whether you should’ve called your friends to come get you instead. 

“I’m not his friend.”

You blinked and turned to him, startled by the sudden conversation. “What?”

“Theo,” Erik clarified, “I’m not his friend. More like a friend of one of his other friends.”

You looked over at him. “Why are you telling me this?”’

“Because you’re actin’ like I knew what he was doin’.”

NOTIFICATION:Your driver, Amelia, is pulling up now. You will have five minutes before Uber charges you a waiting fee

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t know about Theo cheating on me, Erik. I don’t care if y’all are friends. The fact that we almost — ” You blew out a breath. “You’re an adult, Erik. We both are. So whatever we do or don’t do shouldn’t concern the other.”

“I’m just sayin’ that — ” 

A black Sedan pulled up in front of the both of you, cutting off his words. 

You glanced at Erik over your shoulder. “Thanks for hanging back with me.”

He nodded, a tight smile on his lips. “Get home safe, yeah?” 

You nodded and ducked into the back driver’s side seat. As the driver pulled off from the curb, you stole one last glance of Erik standing on the sidewalk. 

“He a friend of yours, ma’am?”

“No. Just someone that I know.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — to date, the beginning of this fic is the most out of pocket i've ever been and i'm proud of that lol

[bennie-jerry]

My Beef with Killmonger - An MCU Rant

I think people struggle to understand that not ALL villains are misunderstood—they’re choosing to be evil and that's it. 

Take Killmonger for example (I’m doing the MCU specifically because I haven’t read the comics—cry about it). 

Besides committing the atrocity of making those half dreads the Frank’s Red Hot for every media with black characters lately, there's aspects I don’t hear people touch on when it comes to Killmonger as a character. And if there are, I sure haven’t heard it yet---so I really hope there's some info on this man I'm missing here. But if no one's gonna call out this man’s BS, I will.

I definitely comprehend that Erik losing his dad was extremely traumatic for him to experience as a child. But Killmonger was only focused on revenge and power alone. Because of the fact that T’Chaka was dead, Erik couldn’t take it out on him and instead decided to channel his anger towards the entirety of the Wakandan royalty—even towards T’CHALLA (even though T’Challa had NOTHING to do with it). 

Even then, T’Challa was MORE than kind enough to let Erik see a Wakandan sunset BEFORE he died. 

“I’m sorry my father was a POS. Here’s a sunset, bro.” 

I get he's played by the oh-so handsome Michael B. Jordan, but let's remove the rose-colored lenses and consider something here.

On top of being a complete narcissist (who killed his GIRLFRIEND by the way), the guy also was just never EVER fit to hold power in ANY capacity to begin with. When the guy did kill (or believe he killed) T’Challa, what was the first thing he wanted to do? 

Did he try to help other poor children in the neighborhood he grew up in?

Did he make a memorial for his dead father?

Did he start a program for fatherless children (like HE was)?

Did he even TRY to do ANYTHING of value that would’ve been beneficial to others in ANY way shape or form?

Newsflash: The answer to all of that is NO.

The FIRST thing this man does as KING is start a WAR between Wakanda and the United States.

Literally his FIRST act as king is to begin an event that could very well have left so many of his people to DIE and cause mass amounts of generational trauma. Meaning there'd potentially be a bunch of children in Wakanda that ALSO won't have their fathers should they die in the war. Is that NOT a major red flag? 

The guy didn’t even DRESS like a king, he just walked around shirtless with a jacket like he was an NYC pimp. 

Even pre-kingship, he already killed LOADS of people before he got to that point. Sure, you could argue that it was in order for him to reach Wakanda or what he planned to do. But does that not raise MORE red flags about his original intent, then? 

Killmonger has a scar on his body for every person that he’s ever killed. The man’s torso is covered top to bottom in scars, meaning he has a major body count. So you’re telling me that this dude's okay with murdering innocent people just to get to a goal that was gonna lead him to kill more people ANYWAY?

Yes, I understand his trauma. Yes, I understand why he's angry at the world. Yes, I do think he's a great villain because every good story needs a good villain. But one thing I'll NOT do is act like this man's actions are justified when they're not. His conquest to create conflict highlights a SEVERE lack of genuine care for the very people he CLAIMS to wanna help.

He's a grown man who had every chance and choice to become better and he never took it because he chose to take his anger out on everyone else since the one who ACTUALLY committed sin against him had already DIED.

And when the “What If” series came out, Killmonger turned on EVERYONE he worked with, took the gauntlets for himself, and tried to reset reality.

Sure, you could say that Killmonger is a representation of black rage and on some level, I'd agree with you in terms of a story telling perspective. But storytelling dynamics don't change the fact this man is a piece of crap.

Don't EVEN try lying to me. The only reason this man has simps on Tumblr is because he's played by someone who's attractive. I bet if he was played by Steve Harvey, you'd all change your tune. 

Trauma never is/will be an excuse to do horrible stuff. Once again, trauma can make a good villain and good villains are necessary. My ONLY issue with Killmonger is that he has a railroad of fans that try to justify his actions.

It's one thing to like a horrible character. And it's another thing to say a horrible character is justified in what they do. The reason why I think it's so dangerous to do that is because it CAN (not that it always does, but CAN) translate into real life instances where people defend ACTUAL human-shaped monsters for things they do as well (ie they're traumatized and/or attractive). That's why we have hybristophilic fangirls slobbering over Wade Wilson (if you know, you know).

But at the end of the day, everyone has choices. Killmonger made his.

Even Killmonger's FATHER was saddened by what his son became while speaking to him on the ancestral plane.

N’Jobu: No tears for me? Killmonger: Everyone dies. It's just life around here. N’Jobu: Well, look at what I have done.

DAWG, WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED—