#killmonger fluff

[apocalypse-shuffle]

ERIK STEVENS | KILLMONGER (the mcu)

—

“Just Thinking” (Erik Stevens x Fem!Reader)

| Erik’s watching you…hard (and not in the sexy way).

| SFW, fluff/angst, chronic pain, someone’s gonna start crying

| picture source: Black Panther (2018) movie

| 1k+ words

Erik is watching you.

To be fair the man nearly never didn’t have his eyes glued to you, but his gaze feels new tonight.

Erik liked to claim that he wasn’t introspective because he was sure of his every move from day one but the look he was hitting you with sure seemed introspective.

You're in your bedroom, Erik having come over after work, getting ready to go to sleep. You’re bouncing around your room getting all your medicine together in one place so you can try to rest a little easier when you get in bed.

Erik’s sitting one his side of the mattress, feet planted firmly onto your carpet as he rests his arms on his legs and tracks you with his eyes.

“Do you remember where I put the stuff for my arms?”

At your question his eyes actually briefly rise to meet yours before he nods to the bathroom.

“In that green bag under the sink,” he murmurs.

You nod and immediately start moving to get it. Your body was always hurting you, that was a factor of life you just had to learn to deal with, but your nightly routine was sacred for a reason.

The pain you felt on a “good day” didn’t compare to the liquid fire in your veins and the way you wouldn’t be able to feel your legs as you walked (if you were even able to) on a bad one. Erik knew how you got too, so whenever you did this he tended to stay out of your way.

Sometimes you felt bad about how you’d often keep him up at night because of how inescapable and overwhelming the pain could get but Erik never complained in real time.

He’d bitch and moan about being tired in the morning while pressing a kiss to your forehead and still waking up early to go for his morning run and make breakfast.

Erik liked to complain but he never complained about you.

You grab the green bag from the cabinet and a pack of alcohol wipes then come back into the room.

He still hasn’t stopped looking.

You make eye contact with him every once in a while as you start measuring things out while you wait for your cold injection to warm up enough that you can inject it into your stomach. He doesn’t not keep your gaze, he just doesn’t respond to the inquiring looks you throw at him. You leave it alone for the time being. If Erik wanted to talk to you he would in his own time, the man didn’t like to keep shit in and let it fester with you if he could help it.

It’s as you’re checking your blood pressure that he finally starts moving. He gets up and holds his hand out to you when you’re about to open the little black carrying case that has your monitor inside.

There’s a question there that you answer by placing it atop his open palm.

When he brings it closer he doesn’t let go of your hand where you’re also holding it and so you offer him your own appendage right then. You can check your pressure just fine by yourself but if he wanted to do this for you you wouldn’t deny him it. At least today.

If it was a bad day and you were in way more pain than usual you tended to get short with him and didn’t like accepting his help. That would probably always be a work in progress since you didn’t like feeling reliant on anyone.

You’re doing pretty well now though. Your pain is reduced to just pin pricks all over your skin and some stiffness in your joints, the medicine taking effect to its best.

Standing in front of you Erik unzips the bag and starts putting everything together with deft fingers. He’s got the whole process over for you in two minutes. You smile and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth with a thank you before putting the case away.

He doesn’t move back to the bed when he’s done with that but he doesn’t try to offer to give you your shot either. You had to take it every two days and never during the duration of your relationship had you once reacted positively to him (or anyone who wasn’t your doctor) wanting to do it for you. Erik always left you to it like you wanted now, no fuss.

He sighs and then he’s finally looking into your eyes. “Do you ever regret any of it?”

Cooled down medicine in your hand you only half turn to give him your attention.

“Hmm?”

He shakes his head.

“Never mind it’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes at him but let the silence envelop you briefly in favor of readying yourself. An injection wasn’t exactly something you could afford giving partial attention to. You glance up at him, now sitting against the headboard as his eyes bore into you. Hm.

“You gonna say what’s bothering you?”

“I’m just thinking.”

You raise an eyebrow as you attach the needle to the medicine vial and pull on the plunger to extract its contents.

“Let me go buy a lottery ticket then.”

Your delivery is dry but Erik huffs out a laugh anyway. He rubs his hands down his face.

“I’m being serious though. I mean- you don’t regret me moving you around so often?”

You wipe off underneath your stomach with rubbing alcohol as you ponder what he’s not asking you.

“You mean do I regret marrying you when you're so busy and I’m so sick?”

Erik’s lips purse and he looks away from you.

Huh.

“Erik, you’re the Wakandan Ambassador now and I knew that when we got back together. You can’t be here all the time,” you shrug. “Which is fine because I was taking care of myself before you and that hasn’t changed.”

You stop talking as you administer the shot with furrowed brows; Erik doesn’t speak. You ignore both the breaking of skin and the feel of the injection with the ease of practice, pull the needle out and then wipe it clean with another alcohol wipe.

When you look up at your husband he seems to still be thinking so you hum and start cleaning up. Band Aid first, properly dispose of everything used, pack all the medicinal stuff up, and hide it back away in the cabinet. Or the fridge.

“I could help you,” Erik punches out unprompted. He seems pained, voice constricted.

“Erik,” you gasp out as you turn to him. The implications of his words don’t even fully hit you; it's the way his hands are fisted so tight they’re shaking.

“Wakanda, they have resources. They’re the most medically advanced place in the world.”

“Erik please,”

He ignores you.

“They could help you. I could-” he takes a harsh breath and looks up to you. Your stomach flips at the look in his eyes, red and brimming with unshed tears. “All it would take is a fucking week. Baby one damned week and you wouldn’t have to do none of this shit no more and you know what they’re telling me?”

He’s not yelling, though even if he was it wouldn’t really be aimed at you, but his voice carries the weight of a scream. You know it’s only not that because it’s you he’s talking to. Your heart has also dropped out of your body.

“They said no, I couldn’t bring you to Wakanda and I couldn’t bring anything from there to you. I was out voted. I am a prince and I’m still just as useless at helping you as before-”

“Erik stop.”

His blurring form in the bed tenses as he listens and you're almost panting, chest tight. He is too. You can see his chest heaving with the pressure of his words even as a tear rolls down your cheeks. You rub it away with a sigh.

“Babe,” You crawl onto the bed with a small groan that you move right past before you're over him. You plant his face with kisses.

Erik huffs out a laugh, arms circling around your middle, but it’s reluctant.

“Yeah baby?”

He pulls you into his lap and you don’t fight it, smiling and swooping down to press a kiss right in the middle of the crease between his brows. You press two more there until the area smoothes out. You were in a good mood and you did not want to be angry about everything right now.

“I don’t need you to save me.”

“But it’s-”

“Hush,” you hold your index finger up to his mouth and he dutifully quiets. He must be more fucked up about this than you thought. You take your finger away and peck him on the lips. “No buts, alright? Now I’m not saying not to hook me up if you can get access to this treatment, but right now it’s a what if and I can’t bank my life on that.”

He rolls his eyes, “It’s not a what if though.”

“Except at this point it is, E, and the same way I’m not wasting my time on a miracle cure is the same way you shouldn’t be either.”

“Alright I see what you’re saying.” Erik’s nodding but you can tell by the grin on his face he’s got something else in mind. “Or I could steal that shit.”

“And commit treason?”

This time when he laughs it’s full, nearly knocks you from your highly coveted position and everything, and the conversation isn’t done but he’ll drop it for now. Hopefully not becoming a fugitive in the meantime.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I could’ve gone into more detail with this but I simply did not want to. Also this is not proofread yet.

(I don’t like writing Erik because I don’t think I capture him well at all but I’ve been sitting on a few stories with him and decided fuck it on this one cause it’s cute. I also have a pattern to my updates which means either cute/action/angst had to be next so everything worked out well enough.)

It’s black love day so happy that, I guess! This fic is too old for me to claim I wrote it for today but we can pretend.

[writingwithjordyn]

Erik is a 6’6, 225 pound baby stuck in a mean ass grown man body.

He all tough n’ shit on the outside cause of all his issues n stuff but deep down he wanna be babied

Im talkin cuddles, back rubs, belly rubs, like when he with his significant other he wanna be up under them all the time if he could

He LOVES laying on you like he isn’t crushing you with his size but i mean he’s cute when he’s all cuddly to its worth it

He’s a fat sucker for head scratches

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Dark Corridors

Erik Killmonger x fem!Reader [One Shot]

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex. Don’t be silly, wrap that willy.

Word Count: I mean, who am I to say no to a 2am wishful thinking of my brain who heard WAVES by Normani once and decided it wanted a full-fledged smut with this bad boy. Have your way brain. It was such a smooth ride. I definitely didn’t sweat the entire day just thinking about it. Neither did I have breathing problems while writing it. And vivid scenes? Naw! Not at aaaaall!

My neighbours are having a party right now and I can hear mum’s friend singing songs off tune while being jovially drunk. Hihihi

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

There is something about these lights. The dim-lit corridors with just a single subtle line of blue guiding you to the equally lit floors but with strobe lights and a lot of people. The place smells of alcohol, smoke machine and something citrusy going about in the air. Smells like pent up emotions just waiting to get out and have fun. Smells like the edged nerves before sex.

Everyone here is with someone. Tables filled up with friends buzzed into the night. Booths filled up with couples with hands roaming each other without any restrictions. There is something about this place.

Talking of place...

Your eyes wander farther than the barstool you come to settle on, ordering your usual. Why you are doing this, you're not sure yourself. It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were not supposed to be like this.

Three weeks.

Three weeks since you came here with your girlfriends to get away from the mental torture of finding out stains of lipstick on your boyfriend's shirt, his clothes reeking of the lingering feminine perfume that had grown stronger day by day. Three weeks since you ordered four Long Islands for yourself, wanting to just let it all slip away- your senses, your emotions, your body. Most of all...your tears.

Tears don't come that easy when there's a need for them. So, there is a need to go about finding dark corners inside and out to find a point of no light to help you make yourself bare. Three weeks since you did slip away from the bar to find yourself up the stairs walking in dark corridors, trying to find a perfect corner. Three weeks since something in the darkness touched you.

At first, it was a graze along your clothes, almost so light to be missed for a breeze. Then, it turned a little curious, the touch rising up your back before finding its way down. The curiosity had given way to a filthy need when fingers seemed to reach down your skirt, your mouth clamped shut with fingers so that no noise came out as they tried to get their way.

You don't remember what it was exactly- the buzz, the flight response or the need to just lock your teeth onto something really hard- but you were biting down on those fingers trying to shut you up, making a gurgling scream leave a man as you tried to run away, only to run into something hard at the end of the corridor.

You would have mistaken him for a wall if it hadn't been for the moonlight bouncing off him, colouring his dark skin a glittering blue from his neck all the way up that sharp jaw carrying a thick stubble, going further up to be met by intricate dreadlocks on one side.

You were thankful for the hold of those strong arms around you, breaking the otherwise drunken gait that would have landed you headfirst down. But thankful as you were, you were scared. Scared by the dark eyes looking like smokey quartz polished to perfection by the creator himself. Scared when those pair of quartz looked down at you, into you, all over you, before loosening their grip on you and walking right into the darkness you'd run away from, bringing out wails that could raise the dead and kill the living.

But nothing in your life seemed to have given you as cathartic an experience as when you watched him come back out, unscathed by the unseen.

There was something about the moonlight that night.

There was something about the lack of it the next week. When you went back again, this time looking for an escape from your boyfriend. It wasn't going anywhere and you wanted to leave him. Get away from that cheater. As much as you could. So alcohol was being made the catalyst to the escapade. Till you saw him. Again.

Sitting in the farthest booth with nothing but a candle lighting up his corner, he seemingly was in a meditative state, studying something on the table in front of him. Those arms form the previous week were covered in a full sleeves navy blue t-shirt today. Those eyes were behind thick-rimmed glasses, looking down at the contents of the table, giving you enough time to study them from where you sat. At least that's what you thought till they shot back up to look directly at you. No one but you.

You wanted to look away, but the grasp of those quartz was strong on you until your body had to drag you away from their hold.

You visited every other night since then, trying to steal a look of that dark stranger who would sit in the invisible corners, alone, carrying out whatever it was that he did. You? You kept finding yourself feeling guilty of coming back for him, having thoughts of his skin brushing over yours, that stubble grazing your skin, those eyes stripping you naked and making your core pool just by their stare.

All those weeks and you both kept your distance. Physically.

Tonight it is the same old routine. He sits in the corner with that candle as his only company. You are on the bar with the Long Island sitting in front of you. The drops trickle down the glass, your eyes following them, trying to erase the fight you had last night when you left that excuse of a man for good.

Right now, it's just you and your drink, slowly diluting everything that is sullen. You are aware of the eyes that linger over your form clad in this blue dress with crisp straps over your shoulders, the fabric going down no more than your thighs. A man or two do try to sit next to you, buy your drinks for you, take you out for the night. The same men mutter curses when you show no interest.

It's all fine till you see your boyfriend- ex- come and sit down next to you, smelling of whiskey too heavy for you to stand the odour. He wants your attention. He wants your body. He wants you back.

You hold your thin blue shawl closer to you, covering your arms as much as you can. Your ex tries to hold them, making you shrug him away- not before he gets hold of your shawl, yanking it away from your body- get up and walk away from the bar. It is hard to find a way through the crowd, that might as well just be solid shadows in true hall. You can feel him calling out from behind you, forcing you to go up the stairs, past the people rubbing on to each other in the night.

He does catch up, grabbing your arm and not letting go till he has you pushed against the wall. You push him away, wanting to get his body away from you as much as you can, only for him to press it more against you, the bulge in his pants trying to press in between your legs.

When the nerves cannot take it anymore, your hand takes it unto itself to punch him across the face, catching him off guard.

You think that should be enough to get you away from him, clearly misjudging his reflexes to grab you by your throat, ram you against the wall and slap his back of the hand right across your face.

The impact leaves a tingling sensation on your cheek and a ringing in your ear. Your focus on the heat rising up in the hurt flesh does not let you observe the presence of another man taking your ex by the collar before throwing him a few feet away with a single smack to his face.

The sound of that man dropping catches you off guard, making you look up at the familiar man of the moonlight, standing with his back to you- or rather, standing between you and trouble.

It doesn't take much more for the ex to scurry away with a bloodied nose and curses under his breath, leaving you and that man alone.

A woman comes up, calling this man Erik, asking if everything was okay. Erik, turning to look at you trying to find the gravity under your feet and hands, just nods before letting his hand curl up around your arms as slowly as possible- so as not to startle you- and get you up on your feet.

No words are exchanged as he walks you through the corridor up another flight of stairs where soft yellow lights seem to illuminate a little living room past the main door. It has a warm scent of apple pie and roasted chicken, probably coming from the kitchen right next to it. Across the living room, without any doors or blinders is the bedroom housing a bed with grey sheets, clean to the corners.

It's nice.

Erik leaves your arm once you're standing by the sofa and goes to the bathroom to get his first aid kit.

It is a task to decide whether you sit down or not. But you do it anyway, being careful not to get anything on the flower-patterned beige fabric.

It doesn't take Eric long to come back with a plastic box in his hand, walking to sit down next to you to begin the ritual of tending to your wounds.

Jasmine. He smells of jasmine and...and something earthy that you can't put your finger on. His eyes follow the cotton dipped in clean water before coming to rest on your cheek. And then your eyes.

You turn your cheek to him giving him permission to take care of it for you. And so he does. The cold moist touch is gentle, though it makes the wound sting. Makes you close your eyes and draw in a troubled breath. All of it is followed by a cool breeze fanning the burn, soothing it, making it calm down.

It's Erik, easing the pain with his breath.

Once the wound is clean, he dabs a bit of clinical spirit.

You don't even know when it happens but you are leaning into his touch more and more with every passing second till you find yourself waking up from a trance with his fingers pushing away your hair from your face and behind your ear.

Close. He is close to you. The original art of what you had been imagining of facing for so many days, right in front of you. Lips, perfect and parted. Breaths, easy. Eyes, heavy and dark. Intentions, deliciously questionable.

It isn't hard to miss- or he is making it rather obvious- when Erik keeps shifting his gaze from your eyes to your lips.

You too, are starting to question every microscopic thought you have had about those lips and the curiosity of what they taste like. Being the cat who does not want to be left in the dark, you shift your weight and close the distance with your lips landing on his.

It's a hurried decision that you're still wondering if you'll regret when you feel his lips take over, opening up to deepen the aftertaste of your curiosity.

Sweet and salty. That's what he tastes like. With just a hint of alcohol. Craving for more, you let your tongue get a lick of him. And once he figures that, his own tongue is letting itself into your mouth to reign over every corner it can find.

Before you know it, his hands are holding your waist, his fingers wanting to dig beyond the blue fabric over your body as his chest pulls you down and his leg plants itself between your thighs, letting you grind your pulsating core against the surface of his jeans.

The once tender kiss has deepened into a lustful need for more demanding exploration. His one hand lingers on your jaw, the other delves into the lower regions, ricocheting under your dress, teasing the hairs on your thigh rising to welcome his touch.

His tongue has managed to grab an illicit moan out of you, which you reciprocate with a provoking bite to his lips between your teeth.

Erik's eyes go hauntingly dark at your audacity to so graciously let him know what all you are open to. It has never been normalcy for him to give up the strings to someone else to let him be played. But just this once, he wants to test the waters, wants to see where this goes.

He helps you get off his shirt and you pause for a second to watch in awe the markings on his body. Perfectly patterned ridges run across his chest at intervals that you are allowed to touch and even scrutinise under your fingers because your touch is this gentle breeze of a drug that Erik slowly seems to be getting high on. Not too long before you have undone his pants and freed his length that has been waiting for you for quite a while.

The first stroke is but a pleasant kiss by your fingers, making Erik's cock twitch. The precum is spread over the length and a few languid strokes by your hands later, his breath is fluttering a bit before a considerable tremble is felt as your mouth takes in as much of his length as it can, letting your tongue play with it, your head bob over it with a slow and steady rhythm and uncontrollable low moans that escape your throat. What your mouth can't cover is taken care of by your hand, stroking the length, leaving no part untouched. It is a pleasure to hear him audibly shudder when your tongue plays with his frenum, making him see dark spots behind his eyes.

It is an entirely new spectrum of pleasure for Erik, and yet his hands twitch for taking the reins. He wants more. He wants to take control. He moves your hair out of your way before taking your jaw in his hand, making your leave his cock. Before you can gather, he is lifting you by your thighs, putting you over his shoulder and walking towards the bedroom to drop you on the fluffed up mattress.

Your dress is unzipped and thrown on the floor, your panties practically torn before his fingers are finding your folds, diving into your wetness, locating your clit and rubbing it to light up all the dark corners of your body. Your cunt is at his mercy now. And that's not the only thing that gives you pleasure, Erik makes sure of that. His tongue is giving all the attention to your nipples in turn, making them perk up with more of his sucking and nibbling, having a terribly good effect on your already sensitive core.

When a high note of simmering pleasure escaping you reaches his ears, Erik stops the play, much to your dismay, for not wanting that pleasure to end just here. Instead, he takes your legs- which still have the boots on- and lifts them up over his shoulders, biting and sucking on them all the while. You will not be surprised if you find bruises where he is digging his teeth. These are the only types of bruises you'd want anyway.

His length teases your folds, making you arch up into him, asking him through your eyes to satiate your hunger.

You want more.

And you want it all.

Erik seems to know that desperation lurking in your eyes for he pushes his cock in, forcing out a gasp from you at his size, at the same time making you grab at iron rails of the headboard in the name of gravity to get you through the first few seconds.

Once he feels you having adjusted to his length, Erik nearly pulls himself all out before going back in with the right about of jerk, making you go for the headboard again. The pace is picked without much room for a love-making trot, skipping straight to the highs of watching his form smile down on you while his hips slapping with your ass cheeks and you let out rhythmic moans, instantly finding yourself pooling up and shuddering under your orgasm; the high being carried out when he rides you right through it.

But Erik isn’t done yet.

He flips you on your stomach, slapping your ass before digging his fingers in your hips to drag it close to his pulsating cock yearning for more.

You are still catching your breaths and feeling the sweat rise behind your neck when you feel his throbbing length enter you once again, and your body with a will of its own arching back into him.

Why, he has his claws into you. Your ass cheeks feeling his nails dig into them as he once again slamming himself into you, this time, creating fireworks behind your eyes. The pace is torturous and tactile at the same time. Your breasts dance at every impact, your walls lighting up whenever he hit the right spots, again and again, his grunts and groans vibrating right into your core. You can no longer hold your cries back, letting them out with the fast rhythm he is riding you on.

Yes.

You want this. You crave this. You crave him. Inside you. Over you. Everywhere in this moment of your existence.

The pace fastens as Erik reaches his own high, his length gradually swelling up inside you. You too are close once again, your cries rising higher as the edge of that dam approaches, letting your fingers find your clit to come with him. And as the pace gets sloppier and the cries from the both of you more feral, asking for more, the orgasm hits in its prime, bringing Erik down on you as his legs shudder and your knees, in turn, give way, falling flat over the mattress, glowing with the mix of sex sweat and orgasmic high.

A few moments pass in silence when both of you catch your breaths and find parts of each other under your fingers that want reassurance through touch.

Satisfaction.

Nothing like this has been achieved before. And it only makes you question what all can be explored in the future.

But for now, it's bliss. Pure bliss.

Erik slowly pulls out of you and goes to the bathroom while you take the opportunity to turn and get up, feeling your core throb at the fresh ache it experiences in there. Within no time, he's out again, this time with a towel that seems to be wet, cleaning the aftermath of the pleasure between your legs. The fabric feels warm and soft, cleaning every last trace and being dumped into the laundry basket by the bathroom door.

This part, you are unsure of.

Stay?

Or walk away?

The deed has been done.

You know what you want, though. It's the question of what he desires.

The duvet he pulls over you while planting himself in the bed next to you seems to answer the question.

And as if to make double-sure on it, Erik lets his hand grab your waist and drag you close to marr your swollen lips with a tongue-tied kiss.

You are lying on his chest, feeling the ridges under your skin and fingers while his arm embraces you, soothingly rubbing on the injured cheek.

The sounds from the club downstairs are muffled, the lights off, letting the moonlight creep in and be bedfellows for the night, dancing on your skins jovially.

There really is something about the lights tonight.

[theethighpriestess]

Act Up

This fic was requested by my boo @princessstevens & inspired by the following:

“Baby…”

“Fellow associate..”

“You really acting like that over some damn juice?”

“It wasn’t just any juice, it was my Martinelli’s. You know how I feel about my Martinelli’s.”

It was true, Erik indeed knew how you felt about your Martinelli’s which is why you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why he thought drinking your last bottle was a good idea. Especially while Mother Nature was ravaging your insides. You’d been ignoring all of his attempts to call or come by for the last three days and he’d had enough. He was gonna do whatever needed to be done to get back on your good side again.

------

You sat curled up on the couch eating your Talenti sea salt caramel truffle gelato while Up played on the tv. It was your favorite movie and you almost always cried when you watched it, much to Erik’s disdain. He always complained that you were childish for loving the movie so much, but he always played it when you were upset. As soon as the movie ended, the entire apartment went dark and a spotlight lit up the center of the room illuminating Erik’s massive frame.

“What the hell?” You thought out loud. Soon the sounds of The Way You Make Me Feel by Michael Jackson blared through the speakers. Erik danced around in a black wife beater and basketball shorts, and a gold satin durag that matched your bonnet. Before you could inquire further, he began singing very loud and off-key.

“You knock me off of my feet now baby, hoo!” he sang, mimicking the intro from the music video, causing you to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

Hey pretty baby with the high heels on // you give me fever like I’ve never, ever known // You’re just a product of loveliness // I like the groove of your walk, your, talk, your dress //

You fought hard to contain your smirk, but you had to admit that he looked absolutely adorable. He continued dancing around the couch, doing Michael’s signature kick and spin and even did a moonwalk across the front of the couch. You were a giggling mess.

The way you make me feel // You really turn me on // You knock me off my feet now baby // My lonely days are gone //

He contined singing until the track changed. Your eyes widened once you realized what it was.

“Uh-oh, I’m about to fuck it up now bae,” he says as the beat dropped.

Ay, big ole freak // Big booty, big ole treat // Baby made me wait for the pussy // But I hit it til she big ole skeet // Ay, feet on the bed // She fucked me up in the head // She sucked it and looked in my eyes // Then the next day she left me on read

“I knew you were secretly a hot girl,” you tease as he moved closer to you, giving you a strip tease as he rapped the song.

“I’m a City Boy,” he corrected, causing you to laugh harder.

Baby lemme rub, lemme rub on ya // Can I get a lil love, a lil love from ya // Ya body addictive, ya driving me crazy // But don’t think you gone run from him

You cackled then, completely unable to contain yourself when he started twerking in front of you.

“Ok, ok, I forgive you,” you said between pecks to his lips.

“Thank you Princess,” he said kissing back. “I bought you some more juice and ice cream too.” You squealed, hugging him tightly.

“Yeah, I know. You love a nigga now. Come on let’s watch that punk ass movie again.”

“Ok but after this last song.” Erik grinned wide as the intro played, remembering the way y’all would tag team the intro. You started first.

“Real ass bitch, give a fuck bout a nigga..” Erik rolled his eyes, but came in right on cue.

“Big Birkin bag, hold 5, 6 figures..” You smiled, bending over in front of him.

“Stripes on my ass so he call this pussy Tigger..”

“You damn right I do,” Erik agreed before finishing. “Fuckin’ on a scammin’ ass rich ass nigga!” Instead of finishing the movie, the two of you laughed and danced with one another as song after song played from your Hot Girl Summer playlist.

“You better be glad I love your bratty ass,” he said kissing your forehead.

“I love you too, Daka.”

Tags: @hearteyes-for-killmonger @trevantesbrat @blackpantherismyish @mareethequeen @muse-of-mbaku @blowmymbackout @forbeautyandlife @niggernextdoor @amethyst1993 @killmongersgurl @chaneajoyyy @killmongerdispussy @jozigrrl @thehomierobbstark @iamrheaspeaks @whatmoredoyouwantamericaa @madamslayyy @vikkidc @supersizemeplz @purple-apricots @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone

[sonofnjobu]

Spin Cycle

Erik has very few memories of his parents actually together, and prefers not to remember them. But what can you do when a sensory memory trips something you’d forgotten about?

A/N: I’m in a fluffy mood. Also I know @purple-apricots​ wanted some Young Erik Content. If you enjoy my writing, people reblog and comment! 

“Bruh…” Erik huffed, rolling his eyes at the crudely handwritten “Out of Order” sign on the washing machine. He shifted the canvas laundry bag to his other shoulder as he inspected the machine.

He hated coming to the apartment basement, but he’d be dammed if he went to a public laundromat. Maybe he could fix it.

He leaned down to take a closer look and came in direct contact with a spider web.

“Aight, you know what!” Erik started, slapping the silky strands away from his face. “Fuck this.”

It was late on a Sunday afternoon, and if he wanted anything to wear come his 8:00 Monday morning meeting, he’d just have to suck it up and go to the laundromat. Once wouldn’t kill him.

Erik gathered up his bag, detergent, and cup of quarters and headed back up the stairs. He’d remembered seeing a laundromat down the street. He could easily walk there. And who knows? Maybe the larger drums would allow him to finish the daunting task of laundry even faster than sharing with all of the people in his “luxury” apartment complex.

Erik sauntered up to the building, but slowed as he came to the door. It had been years since he’d been to a place like this and he suddenly felt a trepidation he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He pushed the feeling down, like many before it, and pulled open the door.

The feeling immediately came right back to the surface. It was the smell of the place. A sensory memory he hadn’t experienced in years. A smell he’d forgotten.

The laundromat smelled like his parents.

Both of them. Together.

Even when Erik tried really hard, he could never remember his mother and father together. Childhood memories are rarely cohesive and stitched together. They pop in and out, here and there with stark clarity but blurry bookends. Erik wouldn’t be able to walk someone through a typical day, but he could tell you about the Winnie the Pooh Birthday cake he had on his third birthday… or how it felt to dump out the water in the playground tire swing after it rained.

It was this specific mix of off-brand detergent and dryers that run a little too hot that brought his parents’ smiling faces to his mind.

Erik’s mother was so beautiful.

Her hair was always up on laundry day – either braided back or up in a bun. She wore an oversized, bleach stained sweathshirt and no makeup. Her brown skin glowed on its own. He remembered the day when he was no longer small enough to be held on the side of her hip and was unceremoniously replaced by a hamper. He’d made a fuss but his father put a stop to that right away.

—

“Eh!” N’Jobu warned him curtly. “Five-year-old boys are too old to disrespect their mothers.”

Erik sucked his lower lip back in from the pronounced pout he’d put on just a moment before. His mother made her way to the counter to exchange a ten dollar bill for quarters, greeting the other regulars as she walked. His father began to sort the darks from the reds and the whites.

Erik stuck his head inside of a front loading washing machine.

“Hello!!!!!!!” he shouted.

He moved to the next open washer and greeted it the same way – all the way down the line.

“He – ah!” Erik screamed as N’Jobu snatched him up.

“Shall I put you in one of these? Pick the spin cycle so you can feel how crazy you make me in the head?” N’Jobu laughed as he shook his son lightly. “Or should we put clothes in instead?”

“Clothes!” Erik agreed. N’Jobu carried him back to their laundry pile and handed Erik one of his t-shirts.

“Throw it in, real hard like this.” N’Jobu chucked some socks in to the machine. One slipped and fell to the floor.

“Rah!” Erik exclaimed as he threw the shirt. Soon the father and son duo were racing to throw their clothes in to the machine. Mom returned just in time to see Erik sink his very last pair of shorts.

She fed the machine the quarters and it whirred to life. She, Erik, and his father sat down on the curved plastic chairs to wait twenty-four minutes exactly.

“Oh no!”  mom exclaimed.

“What?” Erik asked. He was ready to throw more clothes if he had to.

“It seems I have one quarter left over. Whatever am I going to do with it?”

Erik’s eyes darted over to the gum ball machine which was conveniently at kids’ eye level, and also conveniently only cost a quarter. They were super big ones too.

His mother didn’t taunt him too much longer, instead covertly slipping him the quarter. His father didn’t like processed sugar. He hadn’t grown up eating it and constantly told Erik to avoid the stuff and brush his teeth to happy birthday even though it wasn’t his birthday.

Erik ran over the bright red machine, plopping easily down on to his knees. He pushed the coveted coin in to the slot and used both of his tiny hands to turn the knob. Erik felt it give slightly and saw the small covering pop out a little. He lifted the plate, and a giant gum ball rolled in to his open palm.

It was a blue one! His favorite color!

Erik popped it in to his mouth and began chewing away. He didn’t know how to blow bubbles yet, but that was okay, his mom said. She would teach him later.

He chewed relentlessly at in during the entire washing cycle. It no longer had any taste, and was a blob of grey rubber cement when he finally spat it out.

The rest of the laundry day was a blur and he spent most of it swinging his legs from the too high waiting chair. Watching his sneakers disappear and reappear beneath him… his parents chatting about something or other. He suddenly heard his name.

“Did you let Erik have gum, babe?” N’Jobu asked. “He’s going to rot his teeth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” his mother insisted, winking at him behind his father’s back. Erik smiled, revealing a row of bright blue teeth, lips, and tongue.

“The proof! You’re caught blue handed, you two!”

Both of his parents broke in to a smile.

--

It’s the only clear memory he had of the two of them. They’d seemed like giants at the time… untouchable.

And now they were both gone.

Erik shook off the memory and loaded his clothes in to the machine all at once. He didn’t separate his colors. He mostly wore black anyways. He just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. He dumped in the detergent and pushed his quarters in. With a loud thunk, the machine began to work.

Erik plopped down on a plastic waiting chair. He set a timer on his phone and went to put his own empty quarter cup in to the laundry bag for safe keeping. As he picked it up, he felt something slide around in the bottom of the container.

There was one quarter left.

He eyed it momentarily. There’s no way there’d be a gum ball machine here.

He took a lap around the aisles and passed the dryers. He was almost back to where he started when he found it. He had to squat down at his knees to reach it now.

He slid the quarter carefully in to the slot and turned the knob, only needing one hand this time. He held his hand out under the ramp and a bright blue gumball rolled out.

His favorite color.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

He popped the candy in to his mouth and began to chew. It got harder to do so as the edges of his mouth curled up in a smile.

He decided he’d come back here every laundry day.

[Masterlist]

[hennessystevens-udaku]

Happy Anniversary, Mr. Stevens

Since Love day is coming up I figured I’d kick it off with a little anniversary fluff in which our favorite prince gets spoiled by moi.

September 3rd

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Erik asked in disbelief. Much like Bastion, Hennessy lived in a constant state of ‘I want’ so to hear her say that she didn’t want anything for their anniversary had the prince more than a little skeptical and slightly afraid.

“Baby are you sick?” he asked as he pressed his hand to her forehead. She laughed that infectious laugh before slapping his hand away.

“I’m fine baby. I’m serious, I don’t want anything. I’ve got more than enough, I just want to spend the day with my prince.”

“Okay,” he finally concedes. “You sure this isn’t a trick?” She laughed once again before slapping his chest.

“Boy go on somewhere. I hear baby Daka crying,” she says as she walked out of his bedroom, downstairs to Aly’Sha’s tattoo shop.

“Did he believe you?”

“Nope, but that’s to be expected. How’s his arsenal coming along?”

“It’s almost ready. The last of the guns will be delivered later on.”

“Perfect. I’m going to go fill everyone else in on what I’m doing. I’ll be back later.”

“Alrighty,” Aly’Sha said as she went back to the stencil she was drawing.

September 4th

Hennessy woke earlier than usual. She’d already informed the rest of the wives and Little Bee about her plan and all of them were eager to help her set everything in motion. She made the short trek to Josephine’s bedroom, not even having to knock before it opened.

“Henny!” Josie exclaimed from the other side of the room.

“Hi Josie. Did you and Kimora get what I asked for?”

“You must’ve forgotten who you was talking to. I snuck it in his arsenal last night. It shoots real good.”

“Of course you had to test it out.”

“Of course. Can’t have that nigga out here with defective weapons. We’re the only ones allowed to kill his dumb ass.” The two women laughed before Henny exited. It was time to wake up Ryley.

“Killa Daddy,” Ryley’s voice sang into the hallway.

“In my office Princess,” Erik answered, still searching for an anniversary gift for Hennessy. Though she insisted she didn’t want anything, he refused to show up empty handed. Ryley sauntered into the office in low cut Adidas shorts with a matching crop top, twirling a key around her finger.

“Why do I feel like you’re up to something?” Erik asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I am. Henny told me to give you this,” she responds as she presents the key to him.

“Yep, she’s tryna kill me,” he says as he takes the key.

“No she’s not. That’s Josie. Just go downstairs,” Ryley says pulling him up from his seated position. They both made the journey downstairs, Ryley bouncing like a kid in the candy store. When Aly’Sha and Henny revealed that they were redesigning the arsenal, she was ecstatic. When they got to the door, Erik noticed a small note on the door.

I may or may not have done a thing. You’re welcome.

-Hennessy 💋

With a shaky hand, Erik opened the door and his heart dropped.

“Gahdamn!” Ryley answered for him. All of his guns were in neatly placed in glass-enclosed cases with a few new toys thrown into the mix. The one that caught his attention was the gold chrome Versace AK-47. His stubby fingers stroked the barrel of the gun slowly, completely in awe of the weapon.

“You just nutted, didn’t you?” Ryley teased as she watched him.

“A little bit,” Erik admitted with a chuckle. “Where she at anyway?”

“She had some things to take care of at the lab, she said she’d be back later. Happy Anniversary.” With a kiss to his cheek, Ryley ventured back upstairs to Angel’s room, where she and Little Bee were working on his next gift.

September 5th - 11:15 am

“Erik, wake up baby,” Angel sang softly. He stirred with a grunt, pulling her body close to his. He rubbed his hands down her back and gently began palming her backside.

“Oh no sir. As much as I would love to be tangled in the sheets with you, we have somewhere to be. Now get dressed.” He pouted slightly, but lifted himself from the bed, heading to his bathroom for a shower. He emerged from his bedroom 30 minutes later and met Angel downstairs.

“The twins not coming?”

“No, Kristina agreed to look after them. I won’t be gone too long.” He nodded and followed her out to his G Wagon, where she climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Am I not coming back home?”

“Nope, but you’ll enjoy this trip, I promise.” Erik set back in the passenger seat, puzzled as to what his wives were up to. Angel drove until they reached the airfield on the other side of town.

“Why couldn’t I just have taken the Talon?”

“Will you stop asking questions and come on,” Angel fussed as she climbed from the truck. The two were greeted by an older gentleman with a thick southern twang.

“Mr. Udaku?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m James, I’ll be your personal pilot.”

“My what now?” Erik asked, finally taking notice of the large private jet behind the man. Angel smiled wide, enjoying the confusion of Erik’s face.

“Go inside, kumkani. That’ll explain everything. Have a safe trip and Happy Anniversary.” She kissed him deeply and watched as he boarded the jet. She had to give it to Henny. She really outdid herself with this one.

“Holy shit!” Erik exclaimed as he stepped inside the cabin. The inside of the cabin was white with brown accents, with a white Versace table in the middle. There was a mini bar in the right corner and a private suite in the back. Sitting neatly on the table was a black note card with gold lettering addressed to him. He opened it carefully, tears welling up in his eyes as he read.

Happy Anniversary, My Prince. You’ve showered me with unconditional love and affection for the last 10 years, and now it’s my time to return the favor. Sit back, relax, and enjoy your vacation. I have so much more in store for you when you land.

-Hennessy 💋

He covered his mouth with his fist in an attempt to mask his wide grin.

“You’ve got yourself one hell of a woman, Mr. Udaku.”

“I know, and I love her to death.” The men shared a smile before James walked back to the cockpit.

“Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Stevens. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us.” Erik nodded, settling in the master suite. Out of all the things they both had done for one another, this was turning out to be one of the most extravagant.

13 Hours Later

Erik had been awake for the last two hours. He and James had hit a bit of turbulence somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, but everything was all clear now. He watched from the window as the city lights danced beneath them. He’d always loved Venice, partially why he chose to marry Hennessy there. The plane lands at Venice Marco Polo Airport and Erik is stunned when his 5th, 7th, and last wives are on the tarmac to greet him.

“Charlie, Homie, Bast, what y’all doing in Venice?”

“Well I’m working, and since these two hardly ever leave the states, I figured I’d bring them along,” Bastion explained after greeting him with a chaste kiss.

“And y’all just so happen to be here at the exact moment that I land?”

“That little detail may have been the First Lady’s idea,” Homie answered, a sly smile plastered on her face.

“These are for you,” Charlie says handing over a set of keys and a note.

“So is this,” Homie says handing over a black velvet box with his initials.

“And this,” Bastion chimes in, handing over a smaller black velvet box. The three women then lead him to where the rental vehicles are kept and stop in front of a gold chrome out Rolls Royce. Erik was speechless.

“Pretty ain’t she?” Charlie asks.

“Beautiful,” Erik answers, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Well we’ll leave you to enjoy your vacation. Happy Anniversary Daddy Boo,” Bastion says with a final kiss to his cheek.

“The GPS is already programmed to where you need to go. Happy Anniversary, Daka,” Homie says, climbing into the car next to Bast.

“That little midget really loves you. Happy Anniversary,” Charlie says. Once the trio sped away, Erik opens the note.

Two surprises down, one to go. So what do you get the man that has everything? Something that’ll make his heart stop. I remember when we first met, you told me your dream car was a chromed out Rolls Royce. Hope I was able to make your dream come true. See you soon. -Hennessy 💋

“You really tryna make me cry, huh Shy?” he asked aloud as he started the car. He places the boxes on the passenger seat and let the GPS to lead him to a lavish Italian villa, decked out much like The Kompound back in the states. He grabbed the boxes from the passenger seat and used the second key on the keyring to unlock the door. He marveled at the sights before him before making his way upstairs. The master bedroom was black and gold, a huge California King bed completing the space. He swan dived in the middle of the bed, landing on his back. He stared up at the ceiling, silently asking Bast what he ever did to deserve such loving wives that would go through so much to make him feel special. Mid reflection, his phone rang in his pocket, Hennessy’s round face popping up on the screen.

“You think you slick,” he called into the receiver upon answering.

“Whatever do you mean, dear Prince?” she asks, feigning ignorance.

“All this for me, babygirl?”

“All this for you, Daddy.”

“And when will I get to see you?”

“Tomorrow. Now get some sleep, you’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

“Yes ma’am. I love you,” he says with a yawn, the jetlag finally catching up to him.

“I love you too.”

September 6th

Erik woke with a grunt, the smell of maple syrup and bacon invading his nostrils. He quickly showered before venturing downstairs.

“Buon giorno, Signor Udaku,” the small woman called from the stove. “I’m Sofia, your personal chef. The Princess has left this note for you, along with the two velvet boxes that you did not open last night. After breakfast, you are to follow the directions laid out in the note. Felice Anniversario.” She smiled sweetly before handing him his plate and the note. He touched the velvet boxes, choosing to open the smaller one first. He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid to find a diamond Patek Philippe Nautilus watch.

“That little fucker does listen to a nigga,” he said with a chuckle as he fitted the watch to his wrist. He took a bite of bacon before moving on the the bigger box. He smiled wide, as he removed the Cuban link chain from the box and fitted it around his neck. He finished his breakfast before heading out to the car, the last note tucked safely in his pocket. Once in the car he pulled out the final note and read it, anxious to know what his favorite midget had in store for him today.

3,650 days, 87,600 hours, 5,256,000 minutes together and you still take my breath away. The car’s GPS is already programmed to find me and I can’t wait to see your face once you see you last gift. I love you past the moon.

Hennessy 💋

He pressed a few keys on the car’s GPS and began his journey. He drove until he reached Rimessaggio Fusina, one of the most prestigious yacht clubs in Italy.

“Prince Udaku!” the stumpy Italian man greeted him with a smile.

“That’s what they call me,” Erik responded with a chuckle, looking around at the vast array of boats before him.

“Don’t worry yourself with those. Yours is right this way,” the round man says with a smile.

“Mine?” Erik asked, unable to mask his confusion.

“Si, Signor.”

The two men walked until they stopped in front of a golden super yacht. At the sound of his voice, the Princess walked out onto the deck.

“Ain’t no way,” he said.

“Oh yeah, Daddy. This is all yours. Happy Anniversary.” A few tears fell down his cheeks as he watched her.

“Aww, the beast is crying. Mission accomplished,” she said with a chuckle. He climbed the flight of stairs two at a time until her reached her. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply.

“I love you, Princess,”

“I love you too, Daka. Happy Anniversary, baby.”

________________________

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

[blackmarvelfics]

Blaze

Warnings: A whole bunch of cursing. N-word is used multiple times. Quite fluffy

Pairing: College!Erik X Reader

Words: 1.2k

Context: Erik decides to take you to spark with him and you embarrass yourself. bloop

Erik was always one of the only people you talked to while at MIT. He was intelligent and funny and handsome. You were the type not to get into a lot of friendships because you had to focus on schoolwork. He kinda butted into your life with no intentions of leaving. You didn’t mind it though. He was good company and a good flirt.

“Ayo (Y/N)! Getcho’ ass out here.” You heard Erik yell from the outside of your dorm. “Nigga what the actual fuck do you want?” You yelled out to him, poking your head out the window. “Come down here lil nigga. I got something to show you!” he enthused and patted his fanny pack that was across his chest. “This better be important Stevens.” You grunted and picked up your keys and phone. You threw on some slides and started to walk down to the lobby.

As you got down, Erik was already in front of the elevator, smiling widely at you. “What nigga?! I was studying!”  You rolled your eyes and punched his shoulder as hard as you could. Erik ate the punch and continued to smile at you. “Fuck you.” you giggled and started to walk with him. “What did you want to show me?” you asked and looked up at him. “Well we gotta get in my car first (Y/N).” “Are you gonna kill me Erik? Will this kill me?” you sighed. “No lil nigga come on!” he said and started jogging to his car. “I’m not running bitch.” you called out to him and continued to walk leisurely. You heard a mumble come out of Erik’s mouth and then saw him running back to you. You stopped and looked at him funny before he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder. “Nigga!” you yelped and he only laughed.

Eventually you get to his car and he puts you down. “Fuck you.” you grunt and fix your hoodie since it was now lopsided? “Fuck me? Date and time ma. I’ll be there.” he purred and winked at you. You rolled your eyes and got in the passenger's seat. “Alright I’m here. Now what?” you asked and looked over to him. He pulled off the fanny pack and put it in between his legs. He took out a little can and as soon as he did, you smelt the gas. “Weed? That’s what you wanted to show me?” you snorted, starting to laugh. “Yeah because we gon’ go smoke. Unless you too pussy.” he rose his eyebrow at you. “Shut up, i’ve done it before.” you mumble and put on your seat belt. “Okay (Y/N) find me somewhere we can smoke den.” He scoffed and put the little can back in the fanny pack. “I’m not giving my hiding spot away.” you lied and looked at him. “Whatever.” He laughed and started to drive. “We gon go to my hiding place.” he smirked and started driving.

You started to get nervous though. Never having smoked before and not knowing how to made you start to feel tense. You masked this by looking through your phone. “Why aren’t you talking to me (Y/N)? What did i do this time?” he joked and looked over to you while at a red light. “You ain’t do nothing Erik. I’m just stressing about finals coming up.” you lied and turned your phone off. “But you smart as shit girl. You got it so don’t worry.” Erik looked over to you and nudged your shoulder, making you smile and giggle.

Erik pulled into a public park and drove into the wooded area enough so that he couldn’t be seen. “Bet.” he looked around before pulling out the fanny pack again but this time pulling out papers. “Fuck backwoods, we only use hemp.” Erik mumbled as he got the weed into the paper and rolled it up. You had no idea what he was talking about so you just watched. “You wanna lick it lil nigga?” he asked you, handing it over to you. You quickly grabbed it as you didn’t have time to answer and you licked the paper. You tried to ignore the taste and smell and you finally finished, rolling the blunt and giving it back to Erik. “You’re good. It’s nice and tight. Now we spark.” he laughed and got out his lighter, putting it up and down the blunt and then lighting the end, taking in a puff.

At this point, you felt your heart start to beat faster. You didn’t know how to inhale so you just watched him. He finally passed it over to you and you looked at it and then to him and then back at the blunt. You put it between your lips and breathed in. You felt irritation in your throat and immediately coughed, giving the blunt back to Erik. He watched you in amusement and put the blunt out. “You good (Y/N)?” he laughed and got a water bottle out from the little pocket in his door. “Yeah i'm good. Can I have that please?” you asked hoarsely, reaching for the bottle. He gave it to you and watched you chug the bottle. “You cute as shit you know that?” he chuckled and turned on the air, letting everything air out. “Shut up.” you sighed and closed the bottle cap. “I know you’ve never done this before. I just thought that you would let me know.” Erik revealed. He was looking over at you with a small smile. “Don’t deny it. You were showing the signs.” he chuckled some more, holding the barely burnt blunt between his fingers. “Fine. you’re right.” you said, looking up at him. His eyes were already starting to get red but you could tell that he was not so far gone. “It’s not so hard. You wanna spark still?” he asked, making sure you were comfortable. “Yeah...sure. I'm already here right?” you smiled at him and he nodded, passing the blunt to you.

An hour went by and you two were both gone. He had suggested to put the chairs all the way back so you could see the stars. “You know i really like yo dumb ass right?” You heard Erik mumble as he looked to the stars. “I know Erik.” you said slowly, your high didnt even let you really register the statement. “Wh-what huh?” you sat up and looked at him. He did the same thing. “Yeah. I like the fuck outta you.” he said. It didn’t really make sense but you still understood. “I like you too nigga.” you giggled. “Will you be my girl then?” he asked and stared into your eyes. Something snapped within you and everything went in slow motion. You got into his lap and kissed him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer and he cupped your ass, pulling you up to him. Your body was tingly and hypersensitive due to your high making your eyes close as you kissed him, letting out little moans and giggles.

The two of you ended your little session and you pulled away from him, giggling again and laying your head on his chest. Staring at the stars, the both of you began talking about life so far and what you had planned for your life.

Who knew that a bit of embarrassment could have following events shift into your favor?

a/n: Hehe. I’m really projecting with this one because I went to go smoke for the first time with my friend a few days ago and i embarrassed tf out of myself lmaooo. But yeah let me know if you like it! 

@killmongerdispussy (hehe. i asked if i could tag you in this earlier and you said sure so bloop! I Hope you like it.)

[writingwithjordyn]

Erik coming back from Wakanda to tell reader he’s a prince

a/n; I love this idea sm, did a little self indulgent while writing this but i hope you enjoy

Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x black!fem!reader

TW: mentioning of injuries, slight angst, over all just fluff

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Seven months. It had been seven months since Erik had left with a word. You were aware of his plans to take over Wakanda as the rightful heir to the throne, but for him to leave, pack all his things without a goodbye? It hurt you.

You and Erik had known each other ever since you were kids. He was placed in the same foster home after his father passed, and y’all just clicked. Erik was always a hotheaded kid who couldn’t express his feelings correctly while you were sweet and understanding, taking the time to listen to him. You understood why he was angry and you were there for him as he was there for you. When you guys got to your sophomore year of high school you decided to try dating, and it was the best decision ever.

Or so you thought.

You were always the first person he said hi to at the beginning of the day and the first person he said goodnight to at night. He told you that you were his world and that he couldn’t wait to live a long life with you. But now, you couldn’t believe a word he said. You were beyond heartbroken and depressed.

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

“Your majesty, we have arrived “ Ayo said from the front of the all black Rolls Royce.

“ Thank you Ayo” Erik said, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out the car. Erik already knew and had came to terms with the fact that he royally fucked up. He knew how you must have been angry and sad. Erik thought it was best to not tell you when he was leaving in fear you would try to stop him.

With two Dora Milaje at his side, he fixed his chain around his neck, adjusting his shades and walked into your apartment building.

Erik was beyond anxious. Had you had moved? Did you find someone new? Were you going to not going to want to talk to him? So many thoughts went through his head as he had made it up to your floor and stood in front of your door.

Reluctantly, he knocked on your door, hoping you would answer and hear him out.

You had just been laying on your couch, hardly paying attention to whatever show was on your TV. You hear the knock and got up, confused as you were not expecting any company.

Without looking through your peephole, you opened the door, and was welcomed with the sight of Erik, with Ayo and Aneka by his side. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

“ I know I fucked up princess, you have every right to be angry with me. You can scream and hit me all you want but please hear me out.” that was the first thing he said while he stood before you. His beard was trimmed, his dreads were a little longer, freshly retwisted and braided back.

“ You have ten minutes to explain” you said with a stern tone, letting him and the Dora inside your apartment.

* ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

You guys had sat down on your king sized bed in your bedroom, while Aneka and Ayo waited outside the door, spears in hand.

“ Baby, I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you, but I did this to protect you” he said, slowly grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his. You stayed quiet, looking at him with glossy eyes. You were so close to bursting into tears but you just couldn’t.

“ When i went to Wakanda to claim my place as king, a lot went down. I was stabbed, hospitalized for a while. And after some time of proving myself, my Auntie made me prince” he didn’t want to go into detail about how he almost killed T’Challa and almost started a war with American.

Finally, giving his hand a light squeeze, you let the tears flow. You hugged him close, sobbing silently into his neck. His held you close, rubbing slow circles on your back.

“ I thought that if you didn’t know when I would be leaving you wouldn’t be able to try and stop me. So many people died because of my actions, and the last thing I ever want is for one of those lost lives to have been yours.” He finally calmed you down, cradling your face in his hand.

“ Erik, please don’t leave again, I can’t do it without you. Ever since you left everything has been awful. Even getting out of bed had been a challenge for me. I needed you. And you weren’t there “ you said, your voice cracking a little from crying.

“ I’m not leaving you ever princess, that’s actually another reason why I’m here, I want you to come back to Wakanda with me, to be my real princess and live the long life I promised you “ he said, holding both your hands in his.

“ You want me to come with you?” You said, only questioning it cause it’s so hard to believe. You were still mad, rightfully so, but whats the worst thing that could happen if you gave him a second chance.

Before he could answer the question, you pulled him into a kiss, a passionate yet soft kiss. He finally broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

“ You gon’ be my princess, no one is ever taking me from you” he mumbles, looking into your eyes as you finally smile, and oh how he missed at smile. He was so ready for Romanda to finally meet the woman who kept her nephew safe all this time.

A/Not : should i make a P2? Lmk if yall liked this?