#this gon be a slutty ass fic

[hottestvirgin]

saurrr who wants to be tagged

[nzia-writes]

•{Speak life unto me}•

RATED SLUTTY 18+

Sums: Riri let’s you practice a majorette dance routine in her garage while she remodels her prototype.

I feel like Dom would channel Riri in this manner. It’s a sappy little something that’s heavy with dialogue. You have been warned. Enjoy.

Interact please and thank you

(tagging a couple folks I seen under riri fics: )

@donewit51life @mysticalmarss @shinsousliya @c0cac0laguns2 @mlmilani @melodykisses @doms-fav @verachii @luhreen @zayswriting

Riri Williams

You draw a breath, trying your hand at Coach’s complex combination once more. You fail with ten steps off count, ten seconds off beat, and ten milliseconds from freaking out.

This is the 100th time and disappointment has been the only result. Come on man. Seems as if fuck-ups is what you run into and a fuck-up is what you are. What else do you call someone allergic to consistency within performance in life and in art?

Coach is gon’ tell me that my efforts ain’t worth a damn again.

Skylar, the captain, gon’ call me all sorts of expletives again.

Maybe they are right. You are not the dancer you presumed yourself to be. You aren’t exhorting enough passion. You aren’t going to succeed with a dancing major. You aren’t going to dethrone Skylar from her rank as captain. Not with all of this lack. So much lack.

“Imma failure, man,” you grit.

The shrill of Riri’s hand-held power tool spurs the cacophony all the more. There is too much going on. There is too much not going on. Failure. Tears. Doom. It is an incessant thought.

You have had enough.

A reverberant scream rattles every solid item within the garage. “Fuck! Fuck Fuck!” Your vocal chords give a roiling wave of heat.

A startled RiRi flips up her welding helmet and lays her tool on the floor. By the time your hollering simmers down, your big brown eyes leak with the pressures of failure and your edges coil from sweat; a newly installed thirty-six-inch buss down gone with the speed of light.

“Y/N.”

A boisterous scream again.

Riri jumps in fright. Damn.

You labored pants follow thereafter.

“I keep on and keep on failing! Busting my ass day in and day out. Still coming up short!” You yell. You yank up your duffle, lodging your belongings inside as aggressive as your body allows. Surely it allowed just the right amount. It wasn’t offering much in many other departments. Useless, it was.

As she powers off her prototype, Riri hesitantly speaks. She’d be damned if she triggered more rage and hurt. Then there’s two bitches arguing and one leaving. “Sugg.”

“Uh uh I’m leaving. I can’t keep doing it, Ri.”

“And what you plan on doing after?”

“Ion know! Lord knows these folks don’t wanna see me win. Lord knows I ain’t got the talent in me to win!” You zip your duffle and turn to Ri, face stricken with defeat. “I’m just tired. I’m not cut fah this shit, ya heard meh?”

“Rest. You need some,” Riri says. She’s so calm, you have no other choice but to be.

“Rest? You think the world gon’ let a nigga like me rest?! Outta’ yo’ damn mind. I’m out.” You turn to go.

“You need cooling and I got it for you. Come talk to me real quick.”

“Ri…”

“Come here, boo. Please.” Her eyes plead beneath fanned out eyelashes.

She removes her welding helmet and places it on the table congested with her quantum technology and hammers. Once she shakes out her box braids, she waves you over. Maybe..just maybe..entertaining what she has to say will end with weights being lifted.

Your bag slumps to the floor and you make your way to Riri. She keeps herself true to her concern and wipes away your tears the moment you are in arm's reach. She reeks of oil and burnt metal but her aura is sweet enough to mute the most unpleasant fumes.

“I can’t stand seeing you like this..” She leans against her work table while you stand before her. Her hands work with caution to fix your disheveled appearance. “Worryin’. Stressin’. You too pretty for that.” She then laughs a bit inwardly. “Got yo’ minks lifting like they got something smart to say.” She simply peels them off and sets them aside.

You persist with a hardened mug, ever the one to cradle rage until everyone feels it.

“Come here,” she sighs, inviting your rigidness into all of her softness, raising on her tiptoes to wrap the parts of you in need of double love. “Let that shit out, sugg. You owe yourself that much.”

She is right. You do. Your rage has cracked a series of dams, but Riri’s love has cracked many more. You whimper and squeeze her small frame tight. “I love you, girl.” The words shake as you inhale. “I love you s-so much.” You squeeze tighter, rocking from side to side.

When the tough battles are fought, she’s the only man standing, willing to fight with you no matter who the enemy may be. She’s going to step about her Sugg.

“Imma always be here when everybody else ain’t, you understand me?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. She coaxes with back rubs and encouraging words until the sniffles are no more. You both soon separate to lean on the table side by side. Her fingers brush yours.

“Whatever rage you feelin’, you entitled to feel. Let it all out, much as you can.”

“Tell that to my mama. To coach. To that doghead bitch Skylar.”

Their hatred and high expectations have silenced your innermost parts. The Y/N you strive to be. And you keep silenced to keep safe, for life has become something that needs to be survived. Not lived.

Riri frowns. Your strength is admirable. You were forced to the bottom at such a young age, unheard and treated unfairly, yet here you stand with the dignity of a knight. She has sworn to sit for hours if it means you are being seen and heard and validated. She will be the change you need to see if no one else will.

“The only way out of this hurt is into it. You gotta face it.” As harsh a truth it is, life will not progress until it is experienced.

“Please… ion know the first thing about facing life. I’ve hid from most of it.”

“It ain’t something you know how to do, it’s something you learn to do. I’m here to help you find your way back. Always.” She slides her hand in yours. Squeezes softly.

“Thank you..so much.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to do. Now go ahead. Tell me how you feel. I wanna hear your heart.”

“I just got too many folks praying on my downfall. Especially back home where my mama swears my dance major ain’t worth it. No support from them unless it’s to flaunt their lavish lifestyle.”

That’s that shit right there, Riri thinks. Makes her want to disrespect your entire bloodline. But she holds back for your sake. You love them, after all. “Listen here.” She turns your face toward her, eyes locked.

“We are two young black women who made it out the slums with what we had. Talent and brains. Your ‘mama nem’ can’t take credit for that shit. You got out and did the work. That’s truth. Don’t let nobody tell you no different. Not even yourself.”

You nod. It is hard to believe, but is isn’t impossible to believe.

“Now as for the dancing. What’s up with that? Had you saying you not talented enough and whatnot. I don’t want you talking about my girl like that again, alright?”

You cheeks flush. “I don’t see nothing untruthful about it, Ri. I’m last…always. Coach and Skylar make sure of it. I’m trying for captain but… as you saw earlier I ain’t got it in me. I fuck up more than anything, ya’ know?”

Riri lets that process. She then gestures to her prototype. It’s a polished transformer looking thing. “From one creator to another, the best work is produced during our moments of strife. I’ve failed more times than I have succeeded, but that’s what makes a legend. You are a legend in the making. Don’t give up.”

“I ain’t say I was allat na’. I’m just dancing to somebody else’s shit, ya heard meh?”

“You are always so wrapped up in all you lack that you don’t take the time to see how blessed you truly are. Mama, you got it good. Real good. You shine bright and you have this remarkable essence. That shit changes people and I need you to see it for yourself.”

The more one disregards their gift the quicker it is lost on them.

Riri continues. “Hear me out..if you ain’t invited into somebody else’s circle, form your own. You were co-creator of some of the most viral dances in the loop. You got the smarts, the talent, the moves..” her eyes drink you in from toe to head “the body,” she smirks. “You can do it.”

You lick your lips and look away. Forming a dance team? Hell no. Impossible. There will be too many odds: people willing to sabotage, your own self-esteem, and the pressures of adulthood. It wouldn’t work.

“Nah I’m good on that. I’ve hid from the spotlight, cast as a shadow all my life. I’m fine where I’m at.”

“Did you hide in the back? Or were you forced to the back?”

“I um…”

You are sent on a voyage of memories that were to not be seen again. Now here they are demanding you see yourself for who you are. You have existed so long in this world as nobody. How would it feel to actually be somebody?

“Gotcha,” she laughs.

“You did,” you chuckle. “Look at you being a ghetto monk and shit.” You tug her to stand between your legs.

“And look at you flodgin’ like it ain’t making you feel something good inside. Let yourself feel it, boo. It’s what you deserve.” She flattens her palm on your abdomen, teasingly trailing it up your chest. She outlines the swirly ink sheathing your neck, acrylics lightly scraping brown skin as her hand curls around it.

“You think so?” You bite your lip, fighting the inner-princess.

“Mhm.” She knows it so. “You cool with the backseat?”

“But you all dirty and dusty.”

She tilts her head, braids falling to one side. “Under these clothes I ain’t.”

“I-“ Eyebrows raised. “Girl go head, hea’? Lemme get in this backseat.”

She laughs like the goddess she is and removes her fire-proof apron with the rest of her gear. “On your back for me too.”

“Yeah, mama.” The words melt off your tongue.

Yes, you feel as if you are gliding on your toes, carrying your heart with less strain. It is the Riri effect so it seems. You are truly grateful for a friend with a lethal mouth.

~¥~

The back of Riri’s car is humid and smells of sex. You lay across the seats, thighs forced back into their plushness, pussy spread open for her filthy onslaught. She is situated in a sniper's position with her small feet dangling out of the open car door. Her devious eyes bore into your own. This has surpassed casual sex long ago. This is love-making.

“Damn girl,” you gasp as she jerks your thighs open the moment they close in on her face. She hums against your bundle of nerves, wagging her head for a deeper dive into your oasis. You sweep her braids into a makeshift ponytail, gyrating lusciously. She eats it like she’s starving; so precise and sloppy.

“Riiii. Just like that.” You nearly force your face to become one with the seat cushion as she swiftly slides her favored fingers inside, stroking your gushy walls, twisting deliciously. She had made the quick decision to pop those acrylics off before the escapades began.

She comes up for a breath, licking her lips slathered in your nectar. “Come on, mama,” she whispers sweetly. “Don’t close up on me. I need you to take it for me, okay?”

“Okayyy. fuuu…uhhn.”

“There we go,” she whispers, glancing down. “Look at you.”

It takes all the strength in you to open your eyes to look down on command. “Shiiiit,” you whine. You didn’t feel yourself creaming.

“She’s creaming like this for me?” Riri bites her lip.

Your response sounds scrambled. You were sure it was a stammered, “all for you.”

“That’s my sweet girl.” She means that in a myriad of ways.

“My god,” you cry softly, “Baby.” You use two fingers to widen pretty brown folds, the back of your head sinking into the seat as she plunges her fingers deeper. Wet squelching noises and breathy moans surf the wind. Your brain is shoved into a mind-bending utopia, it feels so fucking good.

You glance down again to see a string of arousal dribbling down the valley of your ass only to be slurped up by the very lips milking you out. Fuck. The lick is long and ravenous, from the crack of dawn to the peak of your mountain, pouty lips suckling as if it were a dreamsicle in sticky heat.

The more speed she exerts the lower your moans drop. You are now whimpering and whispering incoherent babbles, trying your hardest to fuck back, but you consistently run up the length of the seat from Riri’s freak nastiness.

“That’s it, beautiful.” She hooks her fingers, submerges them to their deepest, and holds still. Her thumb flicks your nub deliciously. Your sharp inhale churns her brain in the best way there is, smooth skin prickling in awe of your slick muscular body and your contorted faces. So beautiful, she moans.

There is a pause in time. A hitched breath. A stuttering heart. Love. So much of it it spills over the both of you.

Riri transmutes it powerfully, keeping the pad of her fingers rubbing that raised sensitive spot inside. Your eyes cross and roll back. “Oh yes yes..” Your hand comes down to plunge her fingers in deeper so she can get in that. “Fuuck…..gonna cum. Cum…” You whine in melody, pushing out a river of glistening slick. It drizzles down Riri’s fingers just as promised. “Uhh my god.” You exhale deeply.

“There we go. Feels good to let go?”

You nod, moaning uncontrollably. She crawls up your body to enrich your lips with a salacious kiss. It’s a moaning mess clouded with a tenderness neither of you will choose to acknowledge until your hearts see fit. You spread your cheeks as she slides her fingers in and out of your creamy canal, white fluids oozing out as you clench and unclench.

“You so…” you hiss in pleasure as she slips her fingers out with care, gathering all of what you spilled with an idle circle of her fingers.

“Talk to me nice,” she hums. “Unless you want it again.”

“I can’t do it again,” you exhale, eyes heavy. You palm her cheeks, kissing her lips sweetly. Her long braids fall over your faces but you don’t care to move them.

She brings her fingers up and plunges them in your mouth. You leave not a drop leaking as she slides them out and leans in to suck it off your tongue. You both pull away to stare. You see it. She sees it. Feels it. Smells it. It’s there and it’s mighty.

“Thank you fah that, baby,” you grin. You pronounce it as beh-beh. That ‘nawlins’ never left.

“You know how deep my love runs for pussy. No need to thank me.”

“Mhm. Cute ass.” You press another fat kiss to her lips, running your hands down to her ass to grip her up. She bites her lip and breathes through her nose. She loves that shit.

“I need me a cold drink,” you chuckle.

“Guh you and me both,” Riri laughs.

End note: Imma eat every single time. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Fun fact: I write the smut quicker than the story itself.

[majesticbrownjawn]

Halloween

This is a throwback and may be the first Erik-ish fic I wrote more than two years ago. 

Reader (like me), isn’t a fan of Halloween, her boyfriend tries to change her outlook. 

NSFW, boo.

I hate Halloween; you thought to yourself angrily as you woke up on the morning of October 31. 

You had a bad experience when you were younger and had been scarred ever since. Your boyfriend Jason loved it, though, especially after Black folks decided we'd make Halloween all about the culture. He was excited about his costume but refused to share what it was. He said it was a surprise and would make you have a heart change about Halloween. You doubt that highly. One of his best friends threw a big party every year, so you were headed there tonight. 

Thankfully it was Saturday, and you didn't have to rush to get yourself together after work. You wanted to have lunch with Jason because you knew even though you'd be at the party together tonight, he'd be too excited to pay you much attention.

————

"Hey babe, you wanna grab some lunch with me?"

"Aww, I'd love to, but I have to put some final touches on my costume."

"Really?! I haven't seen you all week Jason," you whined. 

"I know, baby, but I gotta finish this. I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."

"Ok, fine," you said, disappointed, and hung up. 

You waited until the last minute to decide what to be for Halloween because you and your boyfriend usually coordinated what you'd wear, but because he was being so extra this year and didn't want you to know who he was going as, you had to figure things out on your own. By the time you made it to the Halloween store, the only thing left in your size was the cliche slutty French maid costume. You bought it without trying it on and went on with your day. You were out later than anticipated, so you had to get home and get ready quickly. As you were putting on makeup, you heard your phone buzz. It was a text from Jason. 

Hey baby, I'm running behind, so I won't be able to pick you up. I'm sorry. Text me when you're ready to leave, and I'll have an Uber pick you up and bring you. 

He was really annoying you today. 

You arrived to the party about an hour later and was surprised to see the mansion was already packed with people. You picked up your phone to call Jason but saw that you didn't have service. You walked around for a while, observing the detail in the partygoers’ costumes. A blue Avatar and headless horseman caught your eye and impressed you. After looking for Jason for much longer than anticipated, you decided to stop at one of the bars to get a drink. As you stood in the line, a rough tug at your hips and warm breath on the back of your neck startled you. 

"What the fuck are you wearing?!" A deep voice said. 

The slutty French maid costume lived up to its name. Your full breasts were spilling out of the top and the dress barely covered your ass. You added fishnet stockings to cover your deliciously thick thighs and to add to the overall hoe factor. You rarely wore heels, but tonight you decided on a  pair of clear, stacked, 5” sandals. You knew Jason wouldn't like your body on display at the party, but he would just have to get over it tonight. He was lucky you’d even showed up. 

The voice in your ear sounded familiar. You jerked away and looked at the man from the ground up. He wore combat boots, a pair of camo pants that hugged him in all the right places, a vest with metal breastplates, and a thin shirt that hugged his muscular arms perfectly. His hair was cut low all over, except for in the middle, where he had short dreads that sprung up and away from his head wildly. Two of his lower teeth were dipped in gold. The look in his eyes was one of pent up anger and rage. 

Jason had transformed himself into your own personal Erik “Killmonger” Stevens. 

"Jason?" You were surprised at how much he actually looked like Killmonger. He knew you had a not-so-secret thing for him, which is probably why he was so confident you'd love his costume this year. People frequently stopped Jason to tell him he resembled the fine ass actor who played your fictitious, homicidal movie boyfriend, but you never saw it--until tonight. He'd been growing his hair out since the summer, and you hated it so much that you barely let him touch you. You told him he could get some cut when he cut his hair, but he refused to, so you’d been finding other ways to get what you needed the last few months. 

"Answer my question. Who gave you permission to come out dressed like a slut tonight?" 

"OK, Jason, this is cute, but you not gon' talk to me like that."

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist so tight that your body involuntarily stepped back towards him to ease the pressure on your arm. 

"Where do you think you're going?"

You realized at that moment he wanted you to play along, so for the sake of your wrist and his fun, you went along with it. 

"Nowhere Killmonger. I'm all yours," you smirked at him. 

He grinned devilishly and replied, "You better be. And you can call me Erik."

He grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and instructed you to follow him until you reached a pair of plush couches in the atrium of the mansion. People were all around, dressed in costumes, seemingly entranced by the music and the free-flowing alcohol. 

"Drink," he demanded. 

He started to pour liquor in your mouth before you could respond. 

"Wait!" Alcohol was all over your lips and chin and quickly trailing down your to your breasts. 

He quickly sucked it off your neck and licked the top of your tits in plain sight. 

"What are you doing, Jason?" You were angry and turned on at the same time. 

"You got one more time to call me by another nigga's name. You understand me?"

You nodded your head and squirmed a little, realizing how wet you were. 

"Now drink up. I want you loose tonight."

Erik wanted to dance, so you joined the crowd on the floor. His camo pants were thick, but you could feel how excited he was to be grinding behind you. In character or not, he hadn't touched you like this in months. As your bodies moved together to the music, one of his hands crept up your waist and palmed your breast. You loved the way his hands felt on you. He turned you around to face him and gave you the nastiest, sexiest kiss you’d ever experienced. He was really in character and you loved it. 

After grinding on each other a while longer, he whispered in your ear, "I'm ready to fuck you."

Your eyes bulged out from your head and the tingling in your pussy that had been happening since you laid eyes on him tonight intensified. You were ready to fuck too. 

"Go upstairs into the second door and take off everything. NOW." He dismissed you, confident you’d obey his order. 

You trailed up the stairs and waited for him. 

"The fuck you still got clothes on for?!" Your boyfriend was always firm, knowing how to lovingly put you in your place when I needed to be checked. But the tone he used tonight was different. It almost made you afraid of him.

"I'm going to teach you how to listen today. Bend over." You looked at him with questioning eyes to see if he was serious. 

"Bend the fuck over," he repeated. You leaned onto the bed in front of you, ass straight up, listening like a good girl. He ran his hand down your ass before giving it a firm smack. 

"When I tell you to do something, I mean that shit." You could hear the lust-filled anger in his voice. 

You flinched in pain, but your mouth let out a needy moan, encouraging him to continue. He hit your jiggling backside again just before you heard the sound of your fishnet stockings ripping, leaving your ass fully exposed, save the thong you wore. You felt the string being pulled away from your center and onto your ass cheek. 

His fingers circled your clit from behind, making you arch your back, pushing your pussy deep onto his fingers. You wanted them inside. You were so wet, and they’d slipped in a few times already. 

"Not yet, baby," he growled. He replaced his fingers with his mouth. 

He gave you a good tongue lashing from behind and licked up your slit towards your ass. He slowed down as he made his way upwards, and you tensed up, knowing where he was headed. Your boyfriend loved your body and gave all of himself to you when you had sex. He was attentive and genuinely desired to pleasure every part of your body, but you were never comfortable with him pleasing that part of you. It was still so taboo. Would it even feel good? With him thinking he was Killmonger tonight if he tried, would you be able to stop him? Would you want to stop him? 

As his tongue reached that small region of flesh between your pussy and your other hole, your reflexes caused you to reach one of your hands back, trying to swat him away. 

"Wait, Jas-Erik, whoever the fuck you are." 

That was the worst thing you could have done. He grabbed the arm that tried to push him away and held it on top of your back with his hand, leaving you to balance all of your weight onto the single arm below you. His other hand firmly gripped your upper thigh and pulled you closer to his face. 

"Ahhhhh, Erik." You were gone at the first stoke of his tongue in your no longer forbidden area.

He ate you mercilessly, giving you a pleasure you'd never experienced before. Your arm gave out on you, and you finally just planted your face into the bed. Your ass never moved, though; you were enjoying his tongue too much. He released your arm. The noises you were making was assurance you wouldn't try and stop him again. Your eyes rolled back in slow motion when he opened your pussy with his fingers pushing them deep into you and twisting them as he moved in and out of you, mouth still teasing your ass. 

"Oh my gosh, Jason. Fuck!"

"What you just call me?" His words vibrated against your hole, sending a shiver up your spine. He smacked your ass hard. "What's my name?" 

Smack. 

Your body shuddered, but you didn't answer. 

"Hmm?" He struck you again and laughed. 

"Erik," I whispered. His fingers moved to your clit, sending shockwaves through your body, making your pussy jump from the inside. 

"Louder," he demanded. 

"MmmmErik!" Unintelligible sounds left your mouth as he stroked your clit and ate you from behind. Your climax overtook you, pushing the balls of your feet deep into the soft carpet and making your toes point back up towards the bed. Your body went stiff before going completely limp. You flopped stomach-first onto the bed below you. 

He leaned over you on the bed and whispered, "We ain't done yet, turn over." 

You lazily rolled over on your back as he carefully took off his costume. You watched his beautiful body in awe when he removed his shirt and revealed dozens of scars across his chest and abdomen. He was committed to this costume. 

You were on autopilot and didn't realize you were pleasuring yourself until he growled, "That's a good girl, keep that kitty wet for me." 

Your fingers continued massaging your pussy as he stood over you, stroking his dick and chewing his bottom lip. "You look so good, baby, rubbing your clit like that, but I thought I told you to take your clothes off." He reached down and snatched the top of your dress open, making your breasts spill out and sending buttons flying across the room. 

"Yeah, that's better. Now play with them juicy ass titties." You stuck your fingers in your mouth, trying to get them as wet as possible before moving them in circles around your deep brown nipples. His dick slid up and down your slit as you continued giving special attention to your sensitive breasts. 

Finally, he entered you with a loud grunt, spreading your walls with his healthy girth. You inched up the bed a little trying to adjust to him; it had been a little while. 

"Uhun, where you going? Ain't no escaping this dick tonight." He cupped his hands under your thighs and lifted your ass off the bed, pushing himself further inside, using your legs to pull you up and down his juicy dick. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Erik." 

"Feels better now?" 

"Yes, baby, yes," you whimpered. He twisted in and out of you, pausing every few strokes to stop and lick your clit before entering you again. His pace sped up as he looked down on you with dark eyes. 

"Ahhhh got damn, girl. This pussy so fucking wet." He inhaled deeply like it was going to keep his nut from coming too soon. 

"Of course it is, daddy. You keep tapping my spot," you moaned. He shifted his hips a little, hitting it straight on. 

"Where is it?"

"It's right there. Don't stop, right there, please!" Your fingers gripped the sheets below you as you came hard around him. He rubbed your clit midway through your orgasm, intensifying and extending your high. He came inside you heavy before falling to your side, breathing deeply as you traced your fingers along the raised scars on his chest. 

"So, you like my costume?" Your boyfriend was back. 

"It was aight." He raised an eyebrow at you. 

"I can give you another spanking if my performance wasn't convincing enough." 

"No baby, my ass hurts. But I have a question. You think Killmonger cuddles after sex?"

"Fuck no!" He yelled. "I do, though."

He wrapped his arms around you, placing kisses in the crook of your neck. 

You couldn’t stop grinning as you laid there in his arms. The experience with him tonight was overwhelming. It felt like you fucked someone else. 

You fucked Killmonger. 

-----

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