𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the abrupt and perilous reunion with Erik in front of your neighbors, you try to take a few moments to prevent yourself from self-destructing. The keyword here being try. No matter how much you want to be alone with your thoughts, Erik has other plans. But your desperation to prove that you aren't the same frightened 'Bunny' from two years ago might just backfire when it has to stand the test of Erik's determination.
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 🔞Explicit Sexual Content, Blood & Violence, Toxic Relationships, Emotional Manipulation, Intimidation, Occasional use of N-Word, and Monster Fuckery. For more extensive tags, see Ao3 listing below
❥ 𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑥 ❥ || || ❥ 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ❥
A/N: 👋🏾Hi, this is me re-warning you all that Erik is both an asshole and an actual supernatural being in this story. Tis the season, so please enjoy the self-indulgent nonsense on my behalf 💕✨
𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝙸: 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
Making cupcakes for a block party wasn’t exactly the norm. Though it was relatively nice outside, there was enough humidity to keep the windows shut and the air conditioning on full blast. It was past noon, so things were slowly cooling off. But in your compact, poorly insulated townhouse, having an oven going at nearly four hundred degrees in the summer would make the kitchen warm no matter what temperature you set it on. You’d begun to sweat, but you powered on, pushing your glasses up your nose and staying fully focused on icing cupcakes instead of thinking about him.
It was working. Even though his presence hovered eerily at the fringes of your mind, it was working. You might’ve stowed away in the house for an hour like a coward, but you were calm.
At least somewhat.
You hadn’t really thought about anything. Not since Sarah had come in to give you icing for your impromptu baking session. You could tell she was dying to ask questions, but she kept them to herself the moment she acknowledged the frazzled state you were in.
You declined her offer to stay the night at her place. Both her boys and EJ would be sleeping over at the church after the block party was over. The idea was to end the day with a movie night. However, you weren’t so sure how long the movie-watching would last with all the playing and running around they were doing.
As much as you would’ve loved Sarah’s company, it didn’t sit right in your heart to put her in so much potential danger. You weren’t sure what was going to happen, but that dull, swirling ache in your gut was the only warning you needed to keep your guard up.
You look abruptly up from your work when you hear the creaking spring of the screen door. Thankfully, it’s only Tyler who peeks his head in a few moments later.
A look of relief hangs on his features when he sees your expectant face looking back at him. “Hey, Sweets, Ms. Munroe sent me to check on things…How you holding up?”
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ after erik killmonger seizes the wakandan throne, a royal strategist loyal to t’challa is forced to remain in his inner circle.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ➤ my sister wanted this, and this is my first Killmonger fic? LIKE HELLO??? definitely making more because why didn’t i think of this BEFORE? enjoy!
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ➤ 6.3k
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ dirty talk, hate sex, emotional and psychological manipulation, impact play, mild breath play, throne sex, black!thick!reader (but anyone can imagine themselves), use of african language (xhosa/zulu inspired), mentions of political violence. 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!
the halls of the golden city no longer sounded like home. they echoed now. not with the ancient rhythms passed down by your foremothers. not with the low, ancestral chants that once settled over the palace like fog at dawn. no — they echoed with the weight of new boots on sacred stone. boots that did not belong to a king.
they belonged to a conqueror.
erik stevens — no, he called himself n’jadaka now — had taken the throne barely two weeks ago. the blood from the ritual combat had not yet fully dried in the sacred pool, and yet the council already bowed their heads to him, lips tight with fear. there had been no second trial. no challenge. the mountain tribe stood down. t’challa’s body had vanished with the river.
you’d known t’challa since you were children. you used to spar with him beneath the shade of the elder tree, both of you too proud to admit when you’d bruised. he trusted you to hold the long-view strategy for wakanda in your hands — one of the few civilians allowed in the high council chambers. strategist. advisor. loyalist. and now… traitor, by some mouths. prisoner, by others.
but erik hadn’t thrown you to the dungeons.
instead, he kept you close.
“a mind like yours shouldn’t rot in a cell,” he’d said, the day after the coronation. he’d spoken it low in your ear, like a secret only you were worthy of. “nah… i want you right where i can see you.”
and now here you were — standing in the war room, your thick frame wrapped in deep blue and gold robes, tension stiff across your shoulders. the rich fabric clung to the slope of your hips, accentuating the body that no uniform could hide. you could feel his gaze on you before you even turned around.
“what you think, strategist?” erik’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade. deep, deliberate, heavy with that oakland-born bite. “we hit london first? or new york?”
you didn’t look at him right away. instead, you traced the holographic map glowing across the table with your fingers, watching the borders pulse with potential violence. cities were marked in red. colonizer capitals. your jaw tensed.
“wakanda does not conquer,” you said, carefully. not too soft. not too sharp. “that is not our way.”
“yeah,” he muttered, stepping closer. “and where that get y’all? watchin’ while your brothers and sisters got they necks stepped on. wakanda been hiding.”
he circled behind you like a panther. not quite touching. but close enough that your skin prickled where his heat brushed you. you refused to flinch. he wanted to see you rattle. it was the game, now. every day — the game.
“this ain’t about revenge,” he said, lowering his voice. “this about balance. and power.”
“power built on blood doesn’t last,” you replied, turning finally to face him. your eyes locked. his were molten — dark and unreadable, but sparking with something cruel and magnetic. “and what you’re building… it’s made of bones.”
he didn’t blink. just smiled slow, head tilting.
“so?” he asked, tongue dragging across the edge of his teeth. “that bother you?”
he was too close now. tall, broad, shirt open at the chest. gold fangs flashing beneath full lips. skin dusted in the faintest sheen of sweat and sun, each raised kill mark down his chest a monument to pain — and victory. you hated how magnetic he was. how his presence filled the air so fully it pushed everything else out. his scent was warm metal and cedar. his voice was gravity.
“you loyal to t’challa,” he said, voice dipped low again. “i know that. but you still here. still breathin’. still dressin’ like you got somewhere to be.”
his eyes dragged down your figure — from the tight fold of your waist wrap, across the swell of your hips, to where your thighs brushed under soft fabric. you shifted. not out of discomfort — but because you could feel how intently he watched you.
“you tryna prove somethin’?” he murmured. “or you just don’t know where else you fit now?”
you straightened, spine like steel.
“i serve wakanda,” you said. “not the man who sits on the throne.”
his laugh was soft, almost amused. but there was no kindness in it.
“sound like you tryna convince yourself.”
each day after that followed a pattern. you studied maps, advised on diplomatic approaches you didn’t believe in, and fed him half-truths through clenched teeth. still, he kept you near. always asking for your perspective, always testing your loyalty. his soldiers looked at you with suspicion, but they didn’t touch you. not without his permission.
he was possessive like that. even when he didn’t say it out loud.
and slowly — sickeningly — you started to understand him.
not agree. never that. but understand.
how anger had carved itself into him, root-deep. how power was the only language he’d ever been taught. he wielded it like a weapon, sharp and beautiful. and when he wasn’t using it to dominate a room, he used it on you — with whispers, glances, and challenges he knew you’d rise to.
he never tried to force you. he didn’t need to. erik killmonger was more dangerous than that — because he made you want to play his game.
he’d lean close during briefings, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured critiques. he’d stand at the top of the royal steps while you debated councilmen, watching your every word like a test. and when you succeeded — when your voice swayed the elders just enough — he’d nod, slow and proud, like he was claiming you for it.
“look at you,” he’d say, later, while passing you alone in the garden corridors. “still tryna save people who would’ve let you die with the old king.”
you hated how deep those words burrowed. hated how you still walked the halls after dark, pulse racing at the sound of his voice in the distance.
one night, weeks in, you found yourself summoned.
not by a guard. not by a formal scroll.
just a voice in the corridor. soft. direct. one word.
“come.”
when you stepped into the throne room, it was empty but for him. torchlight flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across the black stone floor. the panther statue loomed silent behind the throne.
erik sat on it like he was born there. legs spread. arms relaxed. gaze dark and direct.
you didn’t bow.
you didn’t speak.
he studied you in silence for a long moment, then motioned you forward with two fingers.
“you believe i don’t deserve this,” he said, voice level. “say it.”
your throat tightened. but you forced yourself steady.
“i believe your rule is built on a lie,” you said. “wakanda’s legacy is not yours to twist.”
he didn’t move. didn’t blink. but his voice dropped, slow and rough.
“and yet here you stand.”
your lips parted — to argue, maybe. or to defend yourself. but no words came.
“i ain’t stupid,” he said, rising from the throne. “i know what this is.”
he stepped toward you again, each stride deliberate.
“you hate me,” he said, stopping just inches away. “but you watch me. every time. you listen. you fight back.”
his hand didn’t touch you. but it hovered just near your jaw. his heat was a weight. your breath quickened.
“ain’t no loyalty in that,” he said, eyes burning into yours. “that’s desire.”
you said nothing.
but you didn’t step back.
he smiled. slow. teeth sharp.
“loyal little queen’s dog,” he said, voice dripping heat. “you ever wonder how it’d feel to break?”
your pulse thudded between your thighs.
but your voice stayed even.
“never,” you whispered.
his eyes dropped — from your lips, to your chest, to the curve of your hips.
“we’ll see.”
his fingers ghosted along your jawline, calloused and hot, but still not touching. erik didn’t rush. no — he never did. dominance for him was earned in slow, suffocating inches. he wanted to watch you squirm under your own restraint. test the shape of your resistance until it shattered on him.
“ain’t gotta say yes,” he murmured, voice low and thick like honey-drenched smoke. “but you ain’t leavin’ either. so what that tell me, hm?”
his thumb dragged — barely — across the curve of your lower lip. your breath hitched. he felt it.
you hated him.
but you wanted him more.
you turned your head just enough to break the spell, stepping back one pace. but that inch was his permission — and he followed, advancing like he owned the ground beneath your feet. your back met the edge of the throne before you realized he’d corralled you there. trapped between carved stone and muscle-thick heat, your body buzzed like war drums. your thighs clenched without command.
“mm,” he laughed, low in his chest. “there she go. wakanda’s finest. thick as the land itself, still actin’ like she ain’t dyin’ to break for me.”
you didn’t respond.
not with words.
you reached for him instead — finally, with fingers curling into the front of his open vest. not a surrender. not exactly. just… the beginning of something too old for language.
his mouth met yours like fire. brutal, claiming. teeth clashing, lips hot. it wasn’t gentle. it wasn’t sweet. it was a fight dressed in heat, breath on breath, until you moaned into his mouth and he groaned against your teeth. the taste of him was sweat, blood, and something darker — control.
his hand came down on your ass with a sharp, open slap.
you gasped, clinging harder.
“yeah,” he growled, sliding one thick thigh between yours, forcing them open. “you like that, huh? all that royal pride, but this fat lil pussy tryna talk to me different.”
you rocked against his leg before you even realized it — heat pooling deep between your thighs, clit desperate for friction. the throne room was silent but for your breath and the echo of his voice wrapping around your moans.
“what would t’challa say, huh?” he teased, hand curling around your hip as he pulled you harder against his leg. “his loyal strategist grindin’ on a nigga she swore to kill.”
you bit your lip, tried to turn your face — but he caught your chin in one hand and held you there.
“nah,” he said, low. “you look at me.”
his eyes pinned you in place, molten and unmoving. you couldn’t look away if you tried. not now. not when his fingers slipped beneath your wrap and found your bare skin, dragging slow up the inside of your thigh.
“this what you been hidin’ under all them robes?” he whispered, voice almost reverent. “this fat-ass pussy been waitin’ on me, huh?”
you whined — not in surrender, but need.
he chuckled deep.
“bend over.”
you hesitated.
his gaze sharpened. darkened.
“ngenze njalo.”
the words hit your core like a flame. do as i say.
you obeyed.
hands braced against the throne, you bent for him — thick ass high, legs wide. you heard the hitch in his breath as he stepped back to take in the sight.
then—
smack.
his palm cracked across your cheek again. not too hard. but enough.
“keep that arch,” he muttered, dragging his fingers through your folds from behind. “mm… this shit wet as fuck. and i ain’t even fucked you yet.”
you moaned, low and shivering.
he knelt behind you, breathing hot over your inner thigh. his mouth pressed to your pussy — not kissing, tasting. tongue flat and deliberate, slapping your clit before sucking it with slow precision.
“fuck—!” you gasped, knuckles white on stone.
he didn’t rush. took his time. tongue moving like he owned the rhythm of your body. your thighs trembled, fat and soft against his jaw. he moaned into you like the taste alone was divine.
“you ridin’ me tonight,” he said, rising behind you again, voice thick with hunger. “on my throne. i want them pretty titties bouncin’ while i watch you fall apart.”
you turned as he shed the rest of his vest — then his pants.
his dick hung heavy, thick, the kind of size that made you pause. covered in veins, head dark and already leaking. he stroked it slow while he stared you down.
“come on, queen,” he murmured. “show me what loyalty look like now.”
you climbed onto the throne — his throne — hands braced on his chest, thick thighs spreading over him as you straddled his lap. his hands found your hips, pulling you down so the head of his cock teased your entrance. you both breathed ragged.
then — you sank down.
inch by inch.
his mouth dropped open, teeth grit.
“god damn,” he hissed. “this pussy heavy as fuck.”
you rode him slow at first — adjusting to his size, your walls clenching tight. his eyes never left your face. not once. his hands guided you, rhythm building with every bounce of your thick ass. you bounced harder. louder.
smack.
his palm slapped your ass again. then again. red prints bloomed.
“take that dick,” he growled. “look at you — thick lil loyalist, takin’ a real king’s cock.”
you whimpered, rolling your hips faster, sweat sliding down your throat. your tits bounced, full and heavy, catching his eyes with every thrust.
“say who this pussy belong to,” he demanded.
you moaned, too far gone to think, riding him like salvation. like war. like you hated him — and loved the way he destroyed you.
he grabbed your throat.
“say it.”
you whispered it.
“…you.”
his eyes lit with fire.
he flipped you in one swift motion — your back now against the cold stone of the throne, legs spread as he pounded into you, harder, deeper, cock hitting every spot like he knew you already.
you were nothing now. just gasps. heat. slick. sweat.
he grunted, one hand pressing on your lower belly as he fucked you deeper.
“you feel that?” he rasped. “i’m in there. ain’t no goin’ back now, mama.”
you clawed at him, body coiling tight.
your climax ripped through you like thunder — back arching, mouth open in a silent cry.
he followed seconds later, spilling deep inside you with a growl, hands fisting in your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to earth.
you laid there afterward — still on the throne, legs sprawled, his breath heavy on your neck.
Summary: Loosely based off on “Spend it” by Summer Walker.
Uriah is a soft girl but Erik pissed her off sooo she spends Erik’s ✨munyun✨. With all the Sinners fics I HIGHkey been missing Erik lil thotty ass.
Furious wasn’t even the word to describe Uriah’s mood. She was in a full-blown psychotic state. A part of her seriously considered having a full Angela Bassett Waiting to Exhale moment with his clothes. Erik had pissed her off one too many times, and she was done.
She stormed out of his house and returned to her condo in the sky—because seriously, who the fuck needed Erik?
They’d gotten into another heated argument—this time over his feelings for her. Or rather, his inability to express them. And of course, Erik brushed her off like always, claiming she was “tripping” and that she should already know how he felt. But she didn’t. Sure, he bought her things. Said “I love you” occasionally. But she needed more than that. She wanted to hear why he loved her. Why her. Was that really too much to ask?
Uriah was done. Or so she told herself. Meanwhile, Erik wouldn’t stop blowing up her phone with calls and texts. Honestly, she was shocked he hadn’t already shown up at her door, banging to be let in.
Ding.
Another text. Erik was relentless.
“You done acting like a brat?”
“Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult.”
“You miss this?”
That last one came with a picture of his dick. Typical.
He was the childish one, not her. If he could just be honest about his damn feelings, all of this would blow over. But instead, she was thirty-something, ready to settle down, while Erik still wanted to play games.
Fine. She could play too.
She fired back a single text, ignoring the garbage above it:
“Give me the last four of your credit card. Buy back my love—you can keep your heart.”
The bubbles popped up instantly.
“0004.”
Got him, she thought, smirking as she closed the app.
She wasn’t usually the type to buy lavish things, but Erik was. And she couldn’t wait to piss him off with all the extra charges when the statement hit.
She spent the afternoon deciding: elevate her “earthy girl” aesthetic or redecorate the condo she’d practically abandoned after getting serious with Erik. She opted for both.
Givenchy, diamonds, and pearls—three months’ worth of rent spent in a single spree. She knew Erik would be livid when the notifications started rolling in. That was the point.
Every purchase? Overnighted. Or, at minimum, express shipping.
She didn’t want sweet nothings anymore. She wanted to be spoiled. Pleasured.
Uriah stretched from her spot on the couch, got up, and packed her small orange duffle for a solo dinner followed by a luxurious two day staycation—spa, massage, the works. One more purchase wouldn’t hurt, she thought as she stepped out.
⸻
“No, I still haven’t heard from him.” Uriah mumbled into the phone, balancing it between her shoulder and ear while turning the key into her front door.
It had been three days since Erik’s last call or text. At this point, she was convinced it was over. And she might just have to sell her ass—and toes—to pay off all the damage she did to his black card.
She dropped her duffle and turned on the foyer light.
“FUCK!” she yelped.
There he was. Erik. Sitting in the middle of a sea of her packages.
“Ma, I’ll call you back,” she muttered, placing the phone down, eyes never leaving his.
“Erik, what are you doing here?”
He sat wide-legged in her chair, arms stretched over the sides like a king on a throne. Silent. Watching.
She scanned the room—most boxes were ripped open, contents sprawled across the floor and couch. Her heart pounded.
She stood frozen, like a child caught doing something bad.
“Baby?” she whispered, tucking a loc behind her ear. “I missed you.”
When in doubt, butter him up.
She eased her way between his legs.
“Silk Chanel scarf, $550. Givenchy blouse, $1,650. Pearl studs, $170…” Erik read from his phone, tracking her approach.
He stood, towering over her.
“Spend it on me?” he quoted from her message. “How you feel, Princess?”
His smirk brushed her ear like a whisper.
“I—I…”
Words failed her. The spite had melted into something softer, more vulnerable.
“Speak, Princess,” he said.
He rustled through the chaos, finally pulling out a box. Savage X Fenty.
“I’m feeling generous,” he said. “I’ll let you pick.”
That grin again. Deadly.
She exhaled sharply—hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath.
No time to overthink. She chose something buttercream yellow, delicate. She smoothed vanilla-coconut cream over her cocoa skin and slipped the lingerie on. Her locs cascaded freely down her back, just above the swell of her ass.
“Sit.”
His voice carried from the doorway.
She obeyed, settling at the edge of the bed as he approached.
“Uriah went and spent Daddy’s money like the fucking brat she is,” he spoke, amused.
He opened a James Allen jewelry box and placed a single diamond necklace around her neck.
“You’ve got good taste, though.”
He kissed her neck. She shivered.
“Erik, I’m sor—”
“Nah, Princess.” He locked eyes with hers. “You’re not sorry. Stand on business.”
Her lips parted. Her body buzzed.
“Before, my love couldn’t be bought. But now… maybe that’s all I want.”
She crawled up the bed.
“Buy me more, Daddy.” She pinched a nipple, spread her legs. “You never talk. You just throw gifts at me. But never your love.”
Her fingers slid between her thighs. Roaming her wet opening.
“Do you love me, Daddy?” Uriah began to unravel without his help.
Erik grabbed her wrist, licking her slick from her fingers before replacing them with his own.
He knelt beside the bed, stretching her open. Her eyes rolled back. Her body trembled.
“Of course I fucking love you,” he whispered, kissing her temple.
When he pulled his fingers from her, she whimpered. He trailed kisses from her neck to her thighs before diving back in.
“I love you!” she moaned, legs shaking. He lapped her up like honey.
He hovered, pressing kisses all over her face, then aligned himself with her entrance. His thick length slid in slow, deliberate.
“I love you,” he moaned into her mouth. “I fucking love you, Uriah.”
His thrusts were unhurried.
He hadn’t cared about the money. He had plenty. What hurt was his own inability to say what he felt.
But this? This was how he showed it. Every soft stroke was a confession.
Uriah’s hips moved with his rhythm, tears slipping down her cheeks as he pushed her legs back for a deeper angle.
He had never touched her like this.
Her body gave in.
“Baaaaby—”
He stroked her through it.
“That’s Daddy’s princess,” he whispered. “I love how you take care of us. I love your mind. I love the way your nose wrinkles when you think. How passionate you are. The way you care for everyone without wanting anything in return. Your fire. The way you challenge me. Make me a better man. I’m in love with you, Uriah.”
She sobbed beneath him. “I love you so much, Erik.”
And with every word, every movement, his walls crumbled.
Later, as they lay tangled together, she teased, “Maybe I should spend all your money. You talk better when I do.”
Erik chuckled, fingers stroking her locs. “Princess, you can have whatever you want.”
His voice faded into sleep.
Fuck that black card, she thought, snuggling into him. He has my heart.
Hi! I apologize for the hiatus (it feels like it's been really long). There has been a lot that has happened both in my life and things outside of it. I kind of felt inspired to write this after listening to hip hop clubbing tracks. Honestly, it's gonna be short and "typical", but hopefully still enjoyable. We all need to feel good, especially during these times.
(So I ended up taking a break from writing this, and my life and the mood I'm feeling is kind of different so, instead of going with a generic approach, Erik is a whole cheater instead of a regular club goer... tehe.)
Relationship: Ex-Boyfriend Erik x Bottle Girl Reader
No warnings.
Word Count: 3.9k
You didn't imagine that this job would be so demanding, but still so rewarding at the same time. Hours on your feet in heels, holding grossly expensive bottles of alcohol in a skimpy outfit was quite the experience. It gave you opportunities to meet all kinds of celebrities, from rappers to actors or just the crowd who could afford two yachts and a private jet. Either way, those were your best tippers. Your favourite ones, in fact.
The crowd that hassled you the most were drunk men just looking to have a good time. They were extremely shameless and highly insensitive. Those were the ones that couldn't hold their liquor and became very aggressive and touchy…
Being a student in the day, you had to find a way to pay for your loans. Your long-time friend, Anthony, was the one who recommended it. He was always into the nightlife and deemed you a perfect fit. Stripping was also on the table, but you wouldn’t be able to face your parents if you did. Also, you knew some of your male family members were too familiar with the clubs around town.
"If I were to ever see my brother, uncles or cousins while I'm dancing on stage, I think I would die." You told Anthony, and that's when he suggested bottle service.
Tonight, your boss told you and the other ladies that there was a big crowd coming tonight. Around fifty guests who rented out one section with very popular names and titles.
You were parked in one of the employee spaces, which was at the side of the building, so you could still see anyone who was pulling into the lot. As you applied your brown lip liner and glossy nude lip combo, around twelve fancy cars rolled into the parking lot. They all were brightly coloured, had tinted windows and loud music blasting through upgraded speakers.
Who would be showing up today? You wondered as the boss didn't tell you anything.
You were used to seeing fancy cars due to this club being one of the more popular and upscale ones in the city, but never an entourage like that.
People stood outside staring as the vehicles all chose a spot to park, waiting for the guests to exit.
You found youself caught in the same gaze until three taps on your window caused you to turn around and roll down the glass. It was your favourite coworker, Nicole. She sort of reminded you of Ari, in fact they could pass for sisters. She typically had her frontal wigs done in a half-up-half-down style, but today it was long, bone-straight and burgundy with a deep side part.
You could tell she was cold based on the goosebumps peppering her skin. The uniform, tank top with the club logo decalled in rhinestones with short shorts and fishnet stockings did absolutely nothing for warmth. The evening brought in a cold chill despite it being the middle of summer.
She leaned over, pushing some strands behind her ear, “Hey, sis. Frédo is looking for you. He got you, Willow and me on for that big group.”
"Just three of us?” You raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah the club is supposed to be packed tonight and you already know we're his best girls.”
"You right." You put your makeup into your purse and removed the keys from the ignition. "I'll meet you inside."
It wasn't even past midnight and the club was already so lively. Still, you had no idea who these guests were, but it seemed damn near half the city knew. The line outside to get in wrapped around the entire building.
"There's my girl!" Frédo, your boss, came into the back room to greet you. "Alright so you know the drill, I trust you not to mess up.”
"I never mess up." You slightly sassed.
"Ma'am, you broke a whole bottle of Don Julio." Willow added, as she always did with her smart ass mouth.
Sometimes you wished that you could stick a push pin in her bloated lips. You remember when she came to work bragging about getting her lips done by some celebrity doctor downtown LA, but something told you she got them done from an unlicensed friend-of-a-friend.
"First of all, you bumped into me." You retorted with a glare.
"Ladies, ladies, now is not the time." Frédo diffused the situation before you two could get into it as usual. "I need you to go out there and do your absolute best. And please, be extremely- and I mean extremely careful with these bottles. You do not want to know how much one costs.”
"How much?" Willow challenged.
Even though Willow was annoying and always liked to test people, you were actually quite curious to know as well.
"Enough to pay for your house, now go!"
It made you gag sometimes, thinking about how much people would spend on a bottle of alcohol. Sure they can afford it, but a nice $15 wine at the local liquor store would not only give them the same buzz, but also save a whole lot of cash in the long run.
Whatever though.
Nicole met you both at the bar, collecting the bottles that your fancy guests would be drinking tonight.
"You letting ‘em do body shots on you tonight?" Nicole cheekily asked you.
"I know I am. You see this bottle of Brandy?!" Willow butted in, holding up the grey bottle. "This shit could really buy me a whole new house."
You both rolled your eyes at her.
"Hell nah, ion know where they mouths or hands have been. And honestly, I would rather not be thrown up on too, cuz it seems like these folks came to get super lit.”
"Yo' boring ass."
"Shut the hell up, Willow.”
"Aight y'all, what we need is to make money, not fight. So get your bottles and let's fuckin' go!"
The both of you grabbed your bottles and headed towards the main area. The music was booming, it was some trap song playing in the background. Bodies crowded the entire room, it was dim, but bright stage lights guided a path to your section. The other girls had already been working on serving other customers, secretly side eyeing you, Nicole and Willow because of the money they could've made tonight.
Initially you were looking down slightly, avoiding the extremely bright lights and the chance of tripping over your own or someone else's feet. But as soon as you looked up, the shininess from the diamonds and gold jewelry resting on the special guests almost blinded you. The men were covered in thick chains, rings, watches, and grills. The women had on diamond earrings, bracelets, chains, necklaces, anklets, and body chains. The whole sha-bang really.
It might as well have been a jewelry store. On a normal day, you wouldn't even see a quarter of the real gems these people had on.
They were dripped out from head to toe in designer clothes too. This entire section could probably build a city with the prices of everything they had on their bodies from head to toe. One lady had on a platinum blonde straight wig, and you knew she didn't pay any less than $1000 for it. It was almost intimidating, all this money in one place.
As you got closer to your section, the esteemed guests started to cheer. There were tons of male voices with a few females here and there.
Taking a closer look you could start to make out some of the faces of each individual. Some were rappers, models, social media influencers, actors, and singers. The crowd was full of the different shades of melanin, and for that you were very happy to see it.
Black excellence was truly great.
Willow and Nicole made sure to entertain their guests with their colourful personalities and willingness to do almost anything that would have their bills paid for a couple months. Hell, you couldn’t blame them. College wasn’t cheap and you had one more year to go.
While serving the expensive bottles and carrying on as if you cared for the holler and excitement this crowd provided, you could just feel those eyes on you. Despite recognizing a few current and up-and-coming celebrities, male and females alike, he stood out the most.
No, he wasn’t a rapper nor any celebrity for that matter (…well maybe a little infamous but average nonetheless), only a man who was adored and just so happened to have royal blood flowing through his veins.
Erik Stevens.
He sat so comfortably in the centre of the VIP section, looking deliberately casual but, so stylish all at the same time. That smug smirk of his appearing once your eyes locked.
It took the strongest urge in you to not roll your eyes as you had the upstanding duty to serve him as he beckoned you over with two fingers. You maintained your professional composure as you guided yourself closer to his table.
“Wassup? Long time no see.” He greets you smoothly, voice cutting through the music. Suddenly, more eyes are turned to you and Erik, particularly the women who sat within an earshot and had their knees turned towards him.
Anyone who was paying attention noticed how he was looking at you - a mix of hunger, possession and unfinished business.
You take a deep breath before placing his bottle down. Hennessey of course, what else would you expect from him? It was always stored away in his cabinet.
Honestly, you should’ve taken Willow’s offer earlier and told her to handle Erik instead. You could just feel the tension growing in the air. The judgement was palpable from the other curious guests. However, you had to remain professional. Frédo ingrained those words into your head from the very moment you were hired. No wonder…
“Nice to see you again, Erik.” You replied cooly, disregarding the glares that were shot your way.
“Is it?” He began, and already you knew it was going to go downhill just from those two words alone. “Seems like you ain’t wanna come over here for real.” He challenged, leaning back and crosing his arms with a grin. You could tell that he knew you were lying, and even more so that you had to keep a poised demeanour. After all, he was one of the highest paying customers.
You force a smile, “Well, I’m just making sure that everyone is happy and getting all the bottles they ordered.”
“Oh, aight.” He unconvincingly responded.
One of his drunken rich friends staggered over and plopped down next to him, but not without grazing your hip with a gentle hand to get by. Ugh. He threw an arm around the back of the sofa, oblivious to the current tension. “Bruh, I just invited two baaaad bitches to the section, when I say bad I mean bad.”
Erik was half paying attention to his friend, but his dark eyes were still trained on you.
You stifled a laughter, how many more women could they need? There was more than a handful over here and as far as you were concerned, these were the “bad bitches”!
The friend finally glanced at you, “Bring back two bottles of Patron.” He demanded.
Your eyes narrowed just for a moment, expressing irritation, but everyone missed it except for Erik. You knew how to smile while conveying a totally different message with your eyes. It was something he picked up on after he would frustrate you and ask what was wrong, in which you always replied, “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“You heard me?” The drunk asked after you were standing there too long for his liking, apparently… Erik’s grin deepened almost as if he found amusement in your discomfort.
You averted your attention to the pest, “They’re on the way sir. Just making sure I get everyone elses’ orders before I head back.”
“Aight then, Miss uhh…” he peered at your bedazzled name tag before saying your name, sarcasm lacing his tone. The others in the section started to chuckle and that was your cue to hurry back to the bar, take a quick three second breather and then head back into the boistrous section.
You had no issue calling security to kick customers out, hell you’d even do it yourself if you were paid to, but you recognized that bastard. He was a producer, songwriter and had an upcoming line of sneakers that everyone was anticipating. You knew Frédo would’ve been pissed if you got rid of a high profile guest. In fact, he was probably the one who booked out the section.
Typically interacting with the customers was fun and lighthearted, but sometimes you got assholes like that one. Some nights you could get away with retaliating, but this definitely wasn’t one of those.
“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, be right back.” You quickly walked away, pinching Willow to get her to follow you back to the bar. Nicole was busy entertaining the other table otherwise you would’ve called her. “Come on girl, we’re refilling the hors d’ouevers and we got two more bottles.”
She was shoving a couple bills into her bra as she stalked behind you, “Bitch, I know you ain’t just take me away to help you get two bottles.”
“And food, you goof.”
“Where the fuck is Nicole? Ginny Vincent was about to take shots from my tits!” She complained. Ginny Vincent was a lesbian rapper, fem presenting but sometimes masculine, especially in her music videos.
Ignoring her question you got the bottles from the back and shoved them in her hands, “Do me a favour, give these to the table with Killmonger and that ugly bald headed ass producer nigga sitting next to him. Lemme get your tables instead, please.”
She narrowed her eyes at you, “You are not about to take my fun-“
“Girl, I do not want Ginny!” Willow was so incredibly narrow sighted it killed you every time she opened her mouth. “I just don’t want to deal with them right now.”
“Oh you got choices? The amount of girls that would die to be in this section right now and you’re being picky? Crazy.”
“Willow. For the love of everything good, please shut the fuck up for once. I am literally giving you the table with the most money and the biggest tippers and you’re complaining, for what?” You reach forward to take the bottles back from her, “Actually, you’re right. Lemme just have my bills paid for, for the next year. Since you wanna be grateful and shit, fuck it.”
You could see the gears finally turning in her head, “Uh, you know what, bitch, my bad. You are absolutely right. I got it, I got it.” She took the bottles back, and cheerfully walked over to the section again, hollering as if her life depended on it.
You took a deep breath again as your eyes rolled drammatically. In the mean time, you got some water and freshened up in the bathroom. With the bright lights and the endless sea of people, you were hot. Unfortunately you forgot your portable fan at home. Not even ten seconds after stepping out of the bathroom you were summoned again.
“Ah, there you are!” Frédo came from the kitchen, he was definitely yelling at the cooks to hurry up. “Okay, they want one more of those mortgage costing bottles. I only trust you with it, so take it out to that section for me.”
“I was getting them more refills on the hors d’ouevers. Willow and Nicole are-” You tried to stall.
“Not important, now hurry.” He interrupts, shoving the theatric cart towards you. The bottle was in a decorated ice bucket, sparklers coming out from all sides and really, as fun as it was, it was so ridiculous. This one bottle got more attention than some people ever did on their birthday.
Either way, you put on your game face and hyped up the crowd as you made your way back into that jewelry store of a section. This in turn got everyone else excited too, so many phone cameras were flashing, drunk people cheering on top of their lungs, and onlookers desperately wanting a sliver of the action.
But as you engaged with the customers and filled new orders, you could feel Erik’s gaze lingering on you like a hawk. You just knew how badly he wanted your attention, even with the other women chatting his ears off, or at least attempting to. They weren’t there before, maybe these were the two bad bitches his friend was talking about.
“Aye!” He called out, voice travelling over the music. Of course he was talking to you, “C’mere.” He beckoned you over. The two women huffed, realizing that they were not priority and decided to walk away. He didn’t even spare them a glance as he trained his eyes onto you.
You treaded over, this time your face lacked the false pleasantires. “What, Erik?”
“I’m just tryna talk to you.”
“Look, I’m here to do my job. I’m not tryna get into anything with you right now. So just tell me if you need more drinks or-“
“More drinks?” He chuckled slightly and scratched his beard, “Nah, I need more company. Ain’t it your job to entertain me?”
You scoffed, “Well we both know what happened the last time we were entertaining each other so pardon me if I have no interest in opening that door again. I got about fifty people to look after.” Your tone was losing its calm.
He evidently enjoyed this, his smirk grew. “Is that so? I mean, I thought you’d enjoy catching up since you been ghosting me and all.”
“Me!?” Your surprised outburst caught the attention of more partygoers than you wanted. However, what the fuck was he thinking? “You expect me to want to catch up with the man who decided to cheat on me?!”
The music felt quieter now, and the excitement seemed to die down, but maybe it’s because anyone in an earshot was focused on what Erik had to say to you.
“Who else, Miss Bottle Girl?”
“Look, I’m not about to do this with you right now. Are you placing an order or what?”
This had his possy laughing, his friends jabbing at him with remarks suggesting that you have been the topic of conversation at least one time since leaving him.
“So this is the shorty you been telling us about bruh, damnnnn. She ain’t playing witch’yo ass.” One of them chortled.
“Shut up, bruh.” He shot back with a laugh, but the seriousness in his eyes remained as he looked back at you. “You can’t pretend it was all bad.”
“Pretend? Trust me, I’m not pretending. This isn’t a game.”
“Then what is it, hm?” He leaned forward, challenging you. “Just think about it, if you were so pressed, you wouldn’t be standing here now would you?”
The audacity of this man to try and gaslight you in front of all these people, “I’m just doing my job.” You retaliated. “It really has nothing to do with you, and I can’t believe you think I’m working this section for you. Had I known you were here I would’ve swapped out.”
His eyes narrowed, “Stop pretending like you don’t miss me, (y/n).”
“And don’t. So if you don’t place an order in the next three seconds, I’m gonna go tend to my other customers.” You cross your arms, professionalism out the window as you glared at Erik.
This time he stood up and entered your personal space, “Stop acting like that, (y/n). You know how much you want me. C’mon.” He leans in closer to whisper, the smell of henessey and cologne danced around your nose. “None of this shit matters, I want you back.”
“We’re done, Erik. Get that through that thick skull of yours. Trying to gaslight me in front of a bunch of folks is not playing out as well as you think it is. You just look like a complete jackass.”
“I ain’t worried about them, princess. I know you miss what we had.”
Anger rushed through you, pushing you closer to the edge. “Miss what exactly? The back-and-forth? The lying? Me catching you with multiple bitches? Please.”
The laughter from the section was fuelling your irritation as well. This wasn’t a fucking reality TV show for his crowd to find amusement in. You decided to drag him out of the section because having people in your business was not ideal, and you were certain some people were recording everything too.
Your red nail jabbed him in the chest. “You thinking that I miss you is actually insane. What I do miss is what we first had, before I really knew the truth.”
“What truth? That you’re jealous?” His condescending tone triggered a shockwave of fury to flow through your veins.
“Jealous of what?! Seeing my supposed to be man entertain other women while he’s with me. It’s fucking insane that you are still trying to convince yourself that you weren’t the one wo fucked up. Now your ass can’t secure a good woman to save your life and its exactly what you deserve. So when I say this, I mean it in the most disrespectful way. Fuck. You. Erik. Stevens. Fuck! You!”
“Already did.” He smriks smugly.
Sick of his provocation, arrogance and narrative twisting to make you feel like you were the problem, you grabbed a fruity red cocktail out of a passerbyers hand to which she complained, splashing the drink all over his crisp white t-shirt.
His face went from shock to anger quickly. There were so many ‘ooos’ and people making noise after witnessing what just went down.
“What the fuck!?” He pulled his shirt away from his torso.
“Maybe you will finally get the message now. We are done! Fucking asshole!” You stormed off as he shouted at you come back. Erik was left there, stunned. He underestimated you one too many times.
This wasn’t nearly as bad as what he did to you, but you felt a sense of victory. It was exhilirating almost. Surely someone recorded it and you were sure that it was going to be all over social media the next morning.
Karma is a bitch, Erik Stevens. You thought to yourself as you made your way to your car.
Frédo would definitely be infuriated with you, in fact you weren’t even sure if you would still have a job the next day. You wouldn’t even be surprised if you got a million phone calls and long text messages from your boss, coworkers and “unknown numbers”. Either way, you were fed up, done with Erik and ready to take off your damn heels.
(Start/Finish October 23 2020 - Dec 5, 2024)
It’s funny that I finally found inspiration after getting over whatever I was going through back in 2020. Because I wanted this story to be more lighthearted and typical, but then it took on a new tragectory. Fours years to complete because writers block is a bitch!
This was sitting in my drafts for about 2 months, but I randomly decided to read it and actually really enjoyed how it came out. So, I edited it and boom here it is! (February 24, 2025)
I’m thinking about not putting my ideas on here no more ….. I have seen a lot my writing prompts around and nobody have gave me my credit but a few and I’m over it I’ll just be reading for now .
summary: erik takes the heart-shaped herb and sees his lost lover.
word count: 1k
warnings: reader death
a/n: i’m now taking requests for killmonger so feel free to send in your requests <3
As the new king of Wakanda, it is ritual for Erik to drink the essence of the heart-shaped herb and to speak with his ancestors. But as the searing power of the herb ran through his veins, he felt himself arriving at a place other than his childhood home.
When he opened his eyes, Erik found himself at the edge of a lake, in a forest that he recognizes. The creatures of the night sang their songs-- crickets and insects chirped, the nocturnal birds trilled, and the wind lapped at the lake water. The night was full of life under the illuminating light of the full moon.
Erik craned his head back to take in the sight of the moon. A soft breeze blew past Erik, and a scent caressed his nose-- a familiar scent.
A moment later, Y/N materialized a few feet in front of him, wearing a sheer gown made of white silk.
“My King.” Y/N beckoned, with a proud smile on her face. Erik’s eyes filled with a mix of love and heartbreak. He broke the distance and pounced on her, wrapping his arms around her in a bone-crushing embrace.
His tears were seeping through her translucent gown, and Y/N ached at the sight of his pain.
Y/N pulled back just enough to see his face. When she cupped his cheeks with her hands, he noticed that they were not cold, but they held the same warmth that they always did when she was still with him. This fact only made him cry more.
“You’ve come so far, N’Jadaka. You’ve done it.”
It was true, their whole lives were spent fighting for this one moment-- the moment where Erik was crowned king of Wakanda; where he was revered as the true Black Panther.
But before he was the Black Panther, they were Lion & Lioness. Hearts and souls bound as one.
“I need you by my side.” Desperation laced Erik’s voice, his eyes pleading with her.
“As long as the moon is out, I am with you.” She momentarily took her eyes off him to gaze up at the moon, and the moon reflected in her wide eyes.
Erik’s expression shifted from one of despair to one of bitterness.
This was injustice-- his whole life was an act of injustice-- and Erik swore to avenge each and every action done to him, starting with burning the sacred garden of the heart-shaped herb.
Y/N knew that face, she knew exactly what it meant when Erik’s eyebrows furrowed and his usual scowl deepened.
“If you burn those flowers, you cut off our connection.”
Immediately, Erik felt a moment of pain that he would feel if he did burn those flowers-- it was scorching pain, like someone took a rod of fire and ran it through his chest before dragging it down his torso and cutting him in half. But that was only the start of the pain, what came next was indescribably worse.
After the initial wave of hell, he was left hollow. He was an empty shell of a man.
He did not remember happiness. He could not recall love.
He couldn’t even remember the original reason for why he became king in the first place.
In that single, simulated moment, Erik was no longer himself. He was merely a ghost.
The feeling washed over him as quickly as it came and he was brought back to the present-- his arms around Y/N as she stared into his eyes, experiencing every emotion with him.
Erik was silent, but he knew better than to burn those flowers. He wouldn’t dare cut off a connection like theirs.
“Secondly, your heir…” Y/N’s words trailed off and she brought a hand to her stomach. Erik’s eyes followed her hand and was stunned. He gently kneeled in front of her, and placed his hand over her stomach. He pressed a kiss on the baby bump.
He then got back up, asking how many months she had left.
“Soon.” Y/N smiled a bit wider when she saw Erik’s impatient expression.
Before he could get another word in, Y/N gave Erik a chaste kiss on his cheek.
“Good luck, N’Jadaka. Your story is only beginning.”
---
Erik’s body shot up, his chest heaving as he attempted to regulate his breathing.
---
Months would pass since that night and there was a significant shift in Erik’s ruling. What was once a war-hungry dog, has now turned into a protector of his nation.
But recently, something has been eating away at Erik. A gnawing feeling was twisting and churning every moment he was alone. He was restless at night and was suffering from insomnia.
It was another night in a string of sleepless-nights, but this time he was called to the window. Erik looked up at the indigo sky, a full moon gazed back at him.
Tonight was one year since Y/N’s passing.
Erik closed his eyes and bowed his head towards the moon.
“Rest easy, my Queen.”
When he opened his eyes, he witnessed a shooting star race across the sky-- it flew across the moon and seemed to be inching closer and closer towards the castle.
Erik’s body acted before his brain could catch up and he bolted down to the castle entrance.
Outside the entrance sat a baby wrapped in white silk. Erik picked up the swaddled baby and recognized the texture of the cloth immediately-- it was the same cloth Y/N wore when he last saw her.
Holding up the baby in the moonlight, Erik was able to see the striking resemblance to Y/N.
As he was admiring the baby, a name was whispered in his ear.
Leona.
And that was what the heir to the Wakandan throne was called.
Leona Stevens; Lion at heart; born of royal blood.
The next day, the royal courts would rejoice at this news. The elders were not appalled by the appearance of this heir, they were rather fascinated that they have lived long enough to see this phenomenon happen in front of their very eyes.
Kings come and go, but nothing could ever dispute Erik’s bloodright of being king since he has been gifted by the gods with an heir.
Leona’s birth would be celebrated for the next week. She would be revered as the Snow Leopard, for her rare birth and the even rarer occurrence of having an heir blessed by Bast herself.
“Leona!” Wakanda chanted. “Daughter of King N’Jadaka and Queen Y/N; Princess Leona, the Snow Leopard!”
a/n: if you enjoyed reading, please consider reblogging and tipping, that supports me and my account more than likes :)
DON’T BE A GHOST READER!!!!! let me know your thoughts, opinions, ideas, etc in the comments!!! i love talking with y’all <3
i’m open to requests! free feel to request, just make sure to read my pinned post for request rules <3
WARNINGS: mentions of death, gory descriptions, mentions of religion, possession, choking, rough s*x, cu*khold, !SLIGHT CNC!.
Ps. I’ll edit this fully later, so if y’all see random pov switches then ignore it really quick. I just wanted it out before Halloween was over Lmfao.
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“You sure you wanna watch this, Trey? I just feel iffy” She expressed to her boyfriend, fiddling with the frills on her socks. Her stomach felt queasy, and her nerves were higher than usual all that day. It could be because she knew that there were plans made to do something she had no instest in, plans to watch an old slasher film, but even before she knew it was this movie in particular, she had already felt a bad feeling come over her body.
“You need to calm down, baby. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and we both know this shit is fake” Trey brushes her off in a nonchalant way, putting the vhs tape into the tv.
“Trey, please. We can watch a classic! Friday 13th?” He ignores her again, playing with the buttons on the television. “This movie is like 80 years old, who knows what type of old ass voodoo is on it?! we needed a fuckin’ box tv to watch this shit, and everybody saying it’s cursed!” She continues to press him, hoping he’d realize how stupid the whole situation was. She was never the type to be scared of movies, but she heard around town about what people saw in the tapes, and she wasn’t trying to be added to the list of people who lost their minds after watching.
Some stories she heard included people gouging their own eyes out, projectile vomiting everywhere only five minutes into the film, some even lose consciousness. “Are you even listening? Trey!” She pushed him, the boy still seeking no interest in what she was saying. She was so convinced that she could change his mind and that she had time to all before, but obviously he was adamant on watching the movie to understand the hype and fear surrounding.
“…someone literally stopped talking for an entire week after watching it. If that ain’t enough proof for you, I dunno what is!” Crossing her arms, she huffs like an upset toddler, over him ignoring her for a ‘stupid little movie’.
“That was just a drawn out joke! Wasn’t shit wrong with that woman” He says, using the tv remote to navigate through the options to start the movie. There was no turning back now, the tape beginning to roll.
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Trey yawns for the fifth time that night. She couldn’t tell if he was tired of just wanted to pretend like the scenes wasn’t scary. The movie started out with a blood curdling scream that made both the young adults cover their ears, Trey attempting to turn it down with the remote, which didn’t work, but even when he put it on mute, the scream continued. After that was the most gruesome death scene either of them had ever seen in a movie that old. It was almost too real. The main character, or who they thought was the main character, was killed only five minutes into the film. The masked man had captured her in her own home and hung her upside down with chains wrapped around her ankles. She was completely undressed, naked glory there to gawk at. Y/N caught Trey doing exactly that for a moment before the woman was split in half completely from the top down with a seemingly dull machete.
Y/N gags strongly while clenching her thick thighs closed as she watched the woman rip in half, screaming in agony until she stopped before the man could even pull the blade all the way through her body. He hacked away multiple times before he had even reached the end of her, blood splattering all over the hardwood floor.
“Ewww!” Y/N let out a girlish squeal while kicking her feet up and covering her face. Trey shook his head. “This shit is not scary, you doin too much”
“Shut up! This shit is makin’ me sick, turn it off”
“Why? You scared?”
“Yes! Stop playin’ and turn it off”
Trey rolls his eyes and laughs, switching his position so he was kneeling in front of his fearsome girlfriend. “It’s not real” she shake her head, her face still scrunched with disgust while Trey laughs at herfit. “Lemme comfort my little cry baby” he teased and kisses her lips. She melted from his touch, feeling safer than before. Trey’s hands roam her body, going for her shirt to pull it right off her body. Y/N’s safe feeling didn’t last too long, a feeling in her stomach creeping up onto her, telling her to open her eyes, which she reluctantly complied to.
Watching the screen behind Trey, multiple pictures of gore flashed as the film continued, the next picture even more disturbing than the next until the screen flashed a picture that had her jumping out of her skin, goosebumps covering her body.
She pushes her boyfriend away with a scream. “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” She panicked, tears welling in her eyes. “Damn, Y/N! You almost bit my fuckin’ tongue off!” Trey shouts, tasting blood in his mouth from the girl biting down on his lip. “What are you on about now?!” Trey glanced back at the screen, but it had changed to a normal part in the movie.
Y/N couldn’t even begin to explain the feeling in her chest. The picture she saw that flashed lastly was a picture of her. In that same spot. With Trey laying next to her, his face looking as if it was bludgeoned, features beyond recognition.
“STOP FUCKING WITH ME, TREY! IM SERIOUS! IT AINT FUNNY!” She freaked, her chest heaving as Trey looked at her in confusion.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N. If you that scared then I’ll just turn it off, damn” he reaches for the remote and clicks the tv off, yet the screen went no where. Still playing the movie, Trey tried clicking the buttons on the TV to turn it off, but the film stayed put. He sighs. “Look, it’s an old tv, baby. We can smash this shit right after if it makes you happy” he said, turning back to her. Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her again, tasting salty tears on her lips. As she gave into his temptation, the kiss progressed to him laying her down and undressing them both fully.
Trey took it upon himself to pleasure her first, something he rarely did, but Y/N brushed it off as him trying to make her feel better. Spreading her legs out for him, Trey dove in, beginning to lap up her swelling clit as she used her hands to play in his hair.
They were cornrowed back, neatly placed in straight lines and she found herself tugging at the ends of them while he slurped her up. He uses her thigh as a headrest for him so he could eat without getting tired, but his patters were already sending the girl into overdrive.
“Yes, Trey” She calls out to him, her other hand gracing her wet lips. She sticks her tongue out and licks a long stripe along her pointer finger and thumb, using her own spit as lube to twist her nipples softly. Trey had suctioned his entire mouth around her clit, beginning to suck while his fingers dipped into her honeypot, giving her a reason for her eyes to be rolling backwards into her head like they were doing.
What was into him? She had never experienced this type of behavior. She couldn’t even remember the last time she came from head alone, but this time felt so different to her.
She had wondered when he had gotten so skilled at this..and when he got a tongue.. or when he got dreads.
Popping her head upwards, Y/N’s heart completely drops. The man that was between her legs was no longer her boyfriend, but the same psycho killer that shook her up just a few minutes ago. Her adrenaline rushes, her brown eyes becoming wide with her jaw being stuck hanging low like she had just been hit with a brick. “—oh fuck” She moans, the demon himself keeping himself latched on her clit, shaking his head from side to side. He rubs his plump lips against her clit while humming, vibrations spreading throughout the girls body before she came, a tongue being right there to catch all that she was giving before it was his turn to get his.
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“Like this, baby?” The man stared deep into her soul while stroking her, his callused hand wrapped tightly around her throat. Y/N shook with fear, but she couldn’t stop the moans falling from her lips. Turning towards the tv, she watched as Trey begged and pleaded on mute, slamming his hands against the windowed screen he was trapped in. Before a singular teardrop slipped from her eye, killjoy had already turned her head back towards him, giving her no permission to look at anything but him.
“Take it. Take it like a good fuckin’ girl” He grunts, gripping her thigh and pushing it back so far that she was basically folded in. It took strength to endure the beating he was putting on her, and the little bit she had left was gradually growing weaker. He was to blame for every reaction she was currently having, from the jagged breathing all the way down to the helpless whimpers. She thought he would have never stopped, until he did, his hips colliding with hers one last time before he stops, laying a smack on her thighs.
“Now, sit that ass on it” He demands. It was like she had no control over her own body, the real version of herself watching behind her eyes in utter shock. Flipping them both over, Killjoy does the honors of pushing himself back inside of her, Y/N using the strength of her calves to bounce on the tip of his dick. It was still so much for her, he was barely inside and she already felt so full. “I can’t-“ she chokes out as her legs shake, her body cowering on top of him. Killjoy grunts in annoyance, his patience running low for the girl. He was fed up. How was she gonna be a good host if she was a coward?
Giving her that jumpstart she needed, he lays three hard smacks on her ass, sending Y/N jumping forward with a yelp, landing right back on his dick. She slid down on his thick pole completely, her thighs closing together. “Unt-Unt. Open them legs, lemme see that pretty pussy” He says, completely disregarding her stiff movements and thrusting his hips upwards. She wasn’t even thinking straight at this point, she couldn’t have answered a question if you asked.
“I’m gonna cum!” She shouts, fisting his locs in her hand, a guttural groan escaping his mouth at the hair tugs. Only the lucky knew how he liked it rough, and not one of those lucky people were alive anymore to tell the story of how killjoy himself broke them in on Halloween night. Now, it was her turn.
“Cum on this dick, pretty girl. It’s yours” He taunts with a devilish smirk, but that only made Y/N teeter over the line of ecstasy and unconsciousness just a little more.
“I’m- im-“
“Uh-huh. Show yo’ man how a real nigga do it”
“FU-“
“Show him how a real nigga make you cum!”
“FUCK”
She stops bouncing, but killjoy kept his hips jack hammering up into her, his arms arms going around her waist to hold her in her spot as he fucked her pussy with no remorse. Y/N was praying to the heavens that it would stop and this would just be some crazy wet dream, but it kept going.
“No need to pray now. He can’t help you” Killjoy speaks into the girls ears, his voice echoing in her head like they were in an empty room.
She could hear her water splashing against him, and he had no means to stop just yet.
Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom × sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/Ig themes but it's never addressed as dd/lg
It was y/n 19th birthday and all her friends and family were over to celebrate her day!
She was Beyond excited, everything was falling perfectly into plan.
Her birthday theme were lemons, there was lemons literally everywhere. She had a Lemon cake, yellow tablecloths and of course for drinks there was lemonade, and to top it all off she had on a cute white princess cut dress with yellow lemons over over it! She had retired the two puffs and settled for one big afro with a cute yellow Ruben tied around her head, She had light makeup and her lips were glossed and shiny.
She and her best friends dance and Sang along to the lyrics coming from the speaker loudly. Her mother laughed and quickly grabbed the camera- "smile guys!" She told the girls. Y/n put on a big smile and posed.
After dancing and singing their lungs out she were winded and tired. She huffed out air. It was extremely hot out today "I'll be back guys." She told her friends and walked back into her kitchen. Her bare feet slapping against the cold floors.
She could hear her dad and his friends from in the living room watching the game, the smell of beers and the sound of her dads laugher brought a since of comfort.
She grabbed a glass of lemonade and chucked it down... As she did so her mind began to wonder off to her brother...where was he? He was here earlier but he disappeared out of nowhere. A couple of his friends were supposed to come too maybe they had all went to the neighborhood park to play basketball like usual she thought.
Speaking of his friends she was a little bummed that Erik wasn't in town. He had went off to college two years ago and she haven't seen or heard from him since last summer when he had spent the summer with her family.. she thought about him a lot, maybe a bit to much.
"Y/n!" Her brother called from the kitchen door, shirt off and dripping with sweat. Speak of the devil. She crunched her face and plugged your nose shut. "Gross."
"Shut up, who's outside." He asked. She slightly rolled her eyes. "My friends a few of mom friends and mom, don't go out there until you take a shower you reek." She said and fake gagged yourself.
"Alright alright, Get off me I'm going but their someone outside on the porch that wants to see you." He said as he set the ball down and jogged up stairs to freshen up. She were froze for a second. Is it who she thinks it it? Her heart started thumping hard as she shakily set her glass down and pushed herself to walk to the front door. She opened the door and was face to face with the big 6'0 boy- or man now that she had fallen in love with over two summers of sneaky kisses and touches.
Her cheeks grow hot as she walk through the door and shut it.
He towered over her even more now then before. He still smelled good, and for the most part still looked the same...except he grow facial hair. She was shocked.
"Hi Erik!" She squealed as she jumped to hug him. He caught her and squeeze her back as he chuckled.
"Wassup lil mama, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you." He said as he set her back on her feet and kissed her on her cheek, making her stomach flutter. "I missed you too! You left us to go back to that bougie college." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes jokily. He chuckled. "I know I know I should've came to visit earlier but I was busy you know how it is-" Erik explain before he was cut off be the girl sitting on the porch swing that y/n had completely missed and didn't notice at all. Y/n frown and turned her big brown eyes back to Erik, he bit his lip nervously.
"Oh yeah my bad, Vanessa this is y/n, y/n this is my girlfriend Vanessa." Erik said smiling at the both of them. Her heart slowly sank as her smile softened to almost a frown before she put on a fake cheerful smile.
His girlfriend?
"Hi..." she shyly said to Vanessa before looking back at Erik with sad eyes.
Vanessa glanced at Erik as well but more confused then anything. Erik chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Um well it's nice to meet you y/n and happy birthday! Time moves fast I still remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday!" Vanessa laughed, making Erik laugh as well.
Obviously It was only three years ago more then likely...
"Thanks...Um I'm about to go in...I'll see you guys later." She said as she back away.
"Actually I'm staying the week with your bother!" Her face dropped once again. Not only today but the whole week? Great fucking great.
"Oh well is Vanessa staying here too?" She said playing with the end of her dress. She had to ask cause if so she would try to stay at one of her friends house or maybe even at her grandmas.
"No, her family live here too she's going to stay at her aunts place." She hummed in response before Turning around and going back into the house.
"She's...weird." Vanessa said scrunching her face. "Chill, she's just not used to new people plus nobody told her you were coming to her birthday party." Erik said as bit annoyed with Vanessas comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back down as they wait for her bother to come back down.
As she walked back into the kitchen her eyes were glossy and red. She didn't want to cry she really didn't but the tears were forming and her throat was starting to feel tight.
Her birthday was going good why did he have to ruin it.
-
After she opened her gifts, ate her cake and cleaned up it was time to go to bed.
Her friends had went home and she tried her best to pretend like Erik and Vanessa wasn't there but Erik just kept on talking to her so it was bad to be mad at him but it hurt so bad to watch him and his girlfriend be so playful with each other and all lovely. She sat on his lap the whole time and it was eating her up inside. She was jealous and weren't very sure if she should be but she couldn't help it.
Erik was her first love.
Y/n parents and brother had all went to bed hours ago, it was now 1:25 in the morning and her stomach ached from being empty.
Y/n got up and put on her slippers, pulled her night gown down over her butt and stepped out of the room, closing her door softly.
She snuck down stairs and made her way to the kitchen. pouring herself some of the lemonade that her mom had made earlier.
"Why you up so late little one?" You heard from the door frame making you jumped spilling your juice down your soft pink gown. Y/n frowned looking down at her gown. "Don't worry about it, you ain't my daddy." She hissed pouring the rest of the lemonade in the sink. Erik's eyebrows raised a slight smirk on his face. "I see you got a mouth on you now huh?" Her face didn't move from the frown. She definitely didn't find anything amusing about this right now.
Y/n rolled her eyes as she made her way towards him to leave the kitchen...but he stayed in place.
"Move."
"I'm just trying to talk to you princess why you being so mean to me? I haven't see you in so long." She cross her arms across her chest. Now was not the time. "Erik move I don't want to talk."
"is it because of Vanessa? You jealous?" He chuckled. He thought this was funny clearly. She was hurt because of him and here he is laughing at her, right in her face.
She tore her eyes from his looking at the other side of the kitchen as the tears came filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Th-that's funny to you? Erik you hurt my feelings and you think it's funny? What the fuck is wrong with you? You played with my feelings and made it seem like you l-...loved me Erik," she said choking on her words now looking at him.
hot tears streaming down her face now. Erik's face dropped when he saw her tears. "Y/n, princess.." he sighed looking at her through his eyelashes, she hated that she thought he looked so cute right now and the way that the little pet name he gave her a couple years back still made her tummy feel warm and tingly...It all started with a silly game to this...
"baby you know we can't be together, I'm away in my second year of college and you haven't even graduated high school yet, you my best friends little sister I can't date you-"
"But you can fuck me right? Is that all I am to you? Just a fuck doll-"
"No no princess-"
"Stop calling me that!" You whispered yelled at him pocking him in the chest.
"You were just using me because I was naïve! Erik you made it seem like you actually liked me...like you loved me! You told me nothing would change when you went to college but then showed up to my birthday party with a girlfriend I had no idea about!" Her tears still streaming down her face. Erik really had nothing to say, she left him speechless, but what could he even say?
"I guess it is partly my fault also for being so stupid to even think you would like me like that huh?" Erik so badly wanted to tell her how he felt but it would only cause more damage and leave her thinking y'all could be more then what they were, in the end she would only get her hopes up again and end up with her feelings hurt.
He so badly wanted to grab her and Comfort you.
"Good night Erik." She pushed past him and headed back up stairs.
Y/n grabbed her teddy bear off her bed and crawled into her Secret room, shutting the door behind her. She turned on her fairy lights and it lit up the small room just enough. She snuggled into her blankets, and cried. She cried her little heart out.
Who would have known her brothers best friend would be the reason for her broken heart.
Why did he have do this to her on her birthday at that...
The day was soured all because he didn't even consider her feelings nor seem like he cared in the slightest.
He had that girl smiling all in her face like he wasn't fingering fucking her all last summer, sharing sweet kisses and cuddles, like he was sharing deep parts of his past to her. Her heart ached so badly that she had to grab it tightly as she cried into her teddy, this wasn't fair.. this wasn't fair at all she shouldn't be crying right now but she felt so betrayed by someone that showed her how to love, how to make love, how to feel loved..
She sank deeper into her comforter and let out soft gut wrenching sobs.
Her first heart break was her big brothers best friend, how naive of her.
-
this not the end yall im gonna write a part three ❤️
for some reason I thought I finished this and posted it already. also I'm way more active on tumblr so if you wanna follow I'll love that, I'm going to be writing about a few of my favorite anime characters too so if you fucking with that follow @rimaiahwrites !!
P.s I still have a deep love for writing yall and wanna finish these projects but life been LIFE'N THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS IM SORRY 😭❤️
