#it’s the part where he goes ‘hey sista’ to ‘but ima like what’s underneath them’

[porcelainvino]

drawing american boy gcv and i ended up HATING ALL THE FRAMES!! so i will make a little booklet instead using gouache or something.. american boy gcv deserves some special treatment 😍

[artisticestheticreads]

Connected

Writer’s Note: This will be my first published fanfic series with redeemed Erik “Killmonger” Stevens. This is taking place before the birth of Serenity and how he meets her mother who was the reader in Easter but now is a Black OC. Not quite sure how many chapters this will be. Please enjoy and read this chapter while listening to Tadow by Masego. Please enjoy and I will love to hear some feedback or suggestions.

Warning: This will contain that, some race issues, fluff, alcohol, and sexual tension. Definitely a slow burn and much more.

~

ONE

       It was an easy Friday when Erik as a Teachers Assistant. He was off finally for Spring Break and decided to make it to his favorite smooth jazz/poet slam club called SMOOTH in Downtown LA. He went by his studio apartment to shower and change. He threw on dark blue jeans, a black turtleneck sweater and black Timberland boots he got custom made from his old friend in Oakland. He put some Jamaican Castor oil on his braided dreads to protect against the cold weather; grabbed his jacket and was on the way. He parked his car in the lot, gave dap to the bouncer and made his way to his usual spot in the corner. A light skin waitress with a long red lace front wig made his way with a cup of whiskey on rocks and greeted him; she made her back to the bar. He sipped and tasted the nut, fruit and floral smoothness and watched the talent on stage. The band was playing a smooth jazz beat in the background as the burnt umber tone male made his way to the mic.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to SMOOTH Friday Nights to ease the tension of the hard work week. Next up with the poetic flow of Erykah Badu, the skin of a rich coffee and the heart of a true queen. Please give it up to our sweet, black sista, Maya Symoné.” The crowd all snapped applauding her as she made her way. She wore a long, black body con dress with deep slits on both sides starting from the top of her thigh down. Her hair was neatly tucked underneath her African tribal head wrap, baby hairs and edges resembled the curves of the Pacific Ocean. She dressed her feet in a pair of combat boot heels that had golden lace hoops and black laces. Her skin looked like it glittered and golden under the yellow spotlight. Her ringed fingered hands touched the microphone and her glorious face became clearer. Her brows were thick but clean shaped. Her lips had a beautiful, deep Cupid’s bow and full covered in ruby lipstick. Her deep almond eyes were blessed with long thick lashes. Her round button nose had a beauty mark placed under on the right side of her nose; Erik was stunned especially by her voice.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for joining us tonight. If you are new here, let me formally introduce myself. I am Maya Symoné. I am a free stylist but my style is more of a rant of some sort. Sometimes I’ll rhyme and others I may not so bear with me. For the ones, who know of me, also knows of my Instagram and YouTube channel where I basically talk to my lovely family also known as my subscribes about things I go through on a day to day basis.” She sipped the tea on her stool and held the mic taking a deep breath closing her eyes making the crowd laugh.

���I had a follower by the user name beth”. She looked side to side at the crowd as they grunted and understood where this was going. “Beth something or other commented under a post I photographed with a beautiful, sensual black couple with fros and the caption read ‘nothing is more real than BLACK love’. She commented and I quote ‘WHY are you sooooooo obsessed with black on black love? WHY don’t you try a different race? WHY does it have to ALWAYS be about black love and pride? WHY is being with a black man so great?’“ She stopped and placed her hands on her curvy frame and popped her tongue pretending to think. She placed her hands and said “why” as the yellow dim light turned red and everyone snapped waiting to her words. “Why does my love for my brothas threaten them so fucking bad? WE should be asking opposite races why them dating our men is such a fad. Y’ see, there is nothing wrong with loving who you love. But somehow, someway my love for a strong, black, independent king is a sin BUT all I gotta say it ain’t nothing like black men.  I honestly can’t see myself with the opposite race. I can’t see myself with some who have not been here, right here in my place. Why? Why? Because how will I show my future chocolate covered baby girl, my angel, my image how it feels to be loved by the black man. When I see a black father with his daughter, it is the most beautiful thing I witness. The love, the strength, the example of how that little girl’s future king should treat her when the time arrives. Without black fathers, our little queens may meet their demise. How will I teach my sons how to be strong black kings? Because ladies, we can only do so much for our future warriors, correct? Because without our men, our baby boys won’t know what the future of a  black male brings.” 

  They agreed and she continued. “Why would I want to bed with the opposite race? I would not and Ima tell ya why. Because have you ever felt so much love, protection, intimacy during intercourse with other than a black man? Nope. Our men and women, know how to love one another. The way a man, a black man makes you feel can make ya whole day. That little touch, that caress he does can make a black woman smile for hours. It has happened...trust me. WHY would I want to be with someone....” She stopped and wiped a tear off her cheek with people encouraging her to keep pushing; Erik noticed from afar. “Why would I want to be with someone WHO does not get my anger when my people are being slaughtered for sport? Who does not get my anger, frustration or how I feel about losing apart of me. Who has never been through the struggle of being Black in America? I tell you why. Because nothing is more real than having your lover, your friend, your everything gets you because they are you in every aspect. Because nothing is more real than BLACK love...that’s why. Thank you.” Everyone cheered and the red light turned black to her not on stage anymore. 

     Erik sat there taken back, letting every word marinate in his mind. The way Maya spoke to his soul got him by surprise. He looked throughout the crowd to see her sitting by her self sipping her drink which looked like what he was drinking. The waitress came by his table to drop off another drink but before she left, he whispered something in her ear. Maya looked up to the stage playing and felt a presence too familiar. “Hey, girl. Here is another drink, from a secret admirer” pointing towards Erik and, with that, she walked away. Maya met eyes with him and nodded her head looking towards the stage, he smirked as she sipped from his offering.

    Erik sat there leaning on his folded forearms. Watching her until he saw a tall, fair skin man sit next to her and kiss her cheek. He felt defeated in watching so he sipped from his second drink and looked to the stage. In peripheral, he noticed her stealing glances from him. She turned to her friend and spoke in his ear, giggling and she pointed towards his table subtly. Her friend looked up to Erik, who pretended he didn’t notice and got up fixing his leather coat. He stood on Erik’s left and asked in his deep voice “may I sit, brotha?” Erik nodded and he sat. “I see you bought Maya a drink.”

“Look, I ain’t mean-” The friend interrupted him and said “no, no man. I am not mad. I am used to brothas doing that” as he chuckled and grabbed the cigar from his pocket with a lighter. He lit it and blew the air out to the other direction. “Maya has swarms of negroes coming to her. Trying to get into her panties and shit. Makes me sick that she goes through that what is more important is what makes you different?” Erik looked to him finally and stated the obvious. “Unlike them, I ain’t tryna to do anything,  aight? My folks raised me better than that. She seems like a woman who ain’t with the bull shit and that’s why them muthafuckas didn’t stand a chance. I just bought her a drink to show that her performance was spot on and to the point, nothing more.”

“Well, that is a huge relief. Thought you would be the type of man who just wants to hit it and quit it.” He turned and saw her to his right, with a smile and her hands behind her back. He said, “Hello, Miss Maya.” She returned a grin and a “hello there” before looking to her friend. “Tay, ya man is here. He is waiting for you at our table. I’ll stay here and keep this young brotha company.” Tay stood and said his goodbyes and she replaced him in the seat, leaning her round face on her hands. “Thank you for my drink. I appreciate it.” He smirked while saying “don’t mention it. After what you all told us, you needed one.” She gave a silent giggle and kept her eyes on his. “Tell me about it. What is your name by the way?”

“Erik Stevens. Nice to meet you, Miss.” He shooked her hand and took note of how soft her skin was. “Well, Mr. Erik. What do you do?” He sat back with his hands on his thighs. “I’m a TA at an elementary school in downtown.” Maya’s lips parted. “Really? Why not teach?” He shook his head then replied. “Not yet. Still training. I just like helping little kids stay woke, love watching their minds work.” Maya leaned back in her chair with a little raise in the corner of her mouth. “Well, by the look of your arms through that sweater, you are not built for it”; his deep chuckle filled the air between them and made her smile. “What were you doing before,” she asked him as she got closer. His smile slowly disappeared. “I’m an ex-Navy veteran. Served since I was 21, left when I was 29.” 

“Ah, that makes more sense”, she stated with narrowed eyes and a raised brow. “It’s actually funny. My father is retired from the US Army. Served ever since before I was born.” She brought her glass to her lips that the waitress bought her. Erik observed her and the way her skin glowed, so beautiful so radiant, as he heard smooth jazz in the background. “Maya, would you like to dance?” Maya grinned with her lips and nodded as he stood to pull out her chair and she led him to the dance floor. He watched the way her hips swayed side to side. She spun her body to face him and he placed his hands on her hips while she put her on his broad shoulders. They danced side to side, looking at one another in the eyes. He asked “so, I was wondering how you would feel about going out to eat? Y’know to get to know each other.” 

     She sized him up then said, “let me see if you can keep up”. She stretched her arm out and he spun her in a circle to the beat. Her back was pressed against his back and their hips were moving together as one. She lied her head on his shoulder and his hand slowly went up to caress her neck with the tips of his fingers. Maya smiled at his touch and wrapped his left arm around her waist. He took whiff her scent and was instantly enticed. She lifted her right arm to place around his neck and let her hand caress the back of his neck. His fingers caressed the back of her hand once she turned to face him. “Ya pretty damn smooth”, Miss Maya said. He chuckled and said, “guess I’m just blessed with.” She giggled as she got closer to his body, looking up into his eyes. Those eyes, her eyes made his knees weak, his heart smile and a grin appeared from across his face. He held her left hand in his right with his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her in. They danced the whole night but, unfortunately, it was time to go. They stood outside as she waited for her uber. 

“Sure, you don’t want me to drive you home”, Erik asked with his hands locked behind his back. “Yes, thank you though Mr. Stevens.” He looked at her then asked “so, was I smooth enough to get ya number or nah?” She gave half a smirk and started to walk away to her uber. Leaving him confused. “I'm guessing you haven’t checked ya pockets yet, brotha,” she said over her shoulder. He dug in his pocket to find a napkin with a kiss mark and her name along with ten numbers. “How did you”-

She interrupted and said, “you’re not the only smooth one” with a wink and finally leaving. He placed the number back inside and made his way to his car, with a smirk of his own.

~

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