#Idk maybe erik is the bottom who knows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anime-kia · 2 years

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Noncommittal

I guess this is me getting somethings off my chest. I'm in my feelings and I'm SICK! Men are annoying LMFAOOO:(OOOOO.

Warnings: Angst

Relationship: Ex Boyfriend Erik x Reader (but y'all are talking... cuz... feelings...)

I was listening to You Don't Know by Tank feat. Wale while writing this. You can also listen to Kehlani's new album if you need a soundtrack lol.

You had no idea what plans God had made for you when this man walked into your life. It had to be some sick joke.

You met Erik five years ago, and dated eight months after knowing each other. He was perfect, your ideal partner that you weren't actively seeking. You even saw a future with him, a small wedding, and maybe a few kids, but it all came crashing down in an instant.

Broken communication and wandering eyes were the key factors in the end of what you thought was your future.

Baby ❤️: I'm just not feeling it anymore...

You couldn't count on your fingers how many times you read his text over and over again. He didn't even the balls to breakup with you in person.

The tears fell from your eyes, coating your phone screen in a slick layer. Constantly you wiped it with your sleeve, but more kept falling.

The devastation left you to leave him with a simple 'Okay'. Too broken to be mad, and for months, too sad to be optimistic.

You spent nights in bed, tears streaming down your cheeks. He was running through your mind from morning to night. Despite all your friends telling you to forget about him, it was hard to forget someone who had you smiling so hard that your cheeks started to hurt. Laughing so hard that tears would spill from your eyes.

But those were happy tears...

Now... These tear filled eyes were followed by headaches, heartache and snot.

Though Erik himself stayed off of social media, his new girlfriend surely didn't. Thanks to your best friend, the pretty brown skin with hazel eyes was now someone you stalked from time to time. Just to see his face... That smile that had you bending at will, his every command.

There were a few videos of them, at restaurants, the basketball court, and other places he would visit with you. Often times he would push the camera away when she aimed it at him, complaining about "the feds".

However there was one picture that made you itch. His head wasn't in the frame, but she had hers against his chest, manicured fingers sprawled across that brawny frame. The caption made it even worse: He's gonna put a ring on it 😘

Only if she knew that Erik didn't like commitment... That would've avoided the horrible remarks she made about him exactly two weeks after that last post.

You felt embarrassed for her, but at the same time you were happy that she wasn't with your m- With Erik.

A couple years later and you were back to yourself, not pressed or crying over Erik anymore. He wasn't running through your mind day to night.

It was all going great, you were even dating again. And just before you did enter a relationship with the date your sister set you up with, he came back.

A contact that shifted all the way to the bottom of your list had made its way back on top.

His number being the only thing showing, but you memorized it long ago.

Hey. Wyd?

You stared at the message, heart rate picking up and all the emotions flooding back in at once.

A simple question as that and you felt like you'd been ask to solve the hardest equation in the world.

Should I ignore it?

But of course you couldn't. Your heart wouldn't allow you to.

Getting ready to go on a date.

Petty always was the best way to go... However, it was true. Your date would be pulling up in the next thirty minutes to take you to an Italian restaurant.

When you getting back?

Again, you stared at the message baffled. What did it matter to him?

Idk.

And that was that.

Or so you thought.

"I don't know, the way that waitress was staring at you makes me feel like I have competition." You joked with your date, Rome, who just pulled into your driveway.

But the lights shining on the figure sitting on the steps of your front porch had the both of you quiet for a moment.

"Nah, maybe I'm the one who got competition." He said with a troubled tone.

"I... Rome, thank you for this. I'll call you later, okay?" You kissed him on the cheek and exited the car.

"You want me to come with you?"

"I'll be okay." You gave him a smile. He nodded and you waved him goodbye, watching as the car pulled out of the driveway.

Erik was staring at you, still seated. It was hard to see his face now that the headlights weren't shining anymore, and the porch light was off.

You walked closer, ready to remove your heels that threatened to toss you to the ground with a small misstep.

"Why are you here, Erik?"

"To see you."

"For what?"

"What you mean for what? I'm not allowed to see you?"

You stared at him incredulously.

"There's nothing to see..." You moved around him, but he caught your arm, staring your body down.

He would say otherwise. Erik kissed his teeth, irked that you had the audacity to step out the house in a slim fitting dress and high heels for another man.

"Nah, there's a lot to see, ma." He bit his bottom lip, gold slugs glowing in the dark. His eyes were drowned in lust, hypnotizing you as if nothing happened.

Things were never the same, even after you allowed him back into your life. You didn't take him back, you couldn't.

The fear of him breaking your heart, and the fear of the feelings you felt all those years ago terrified you. So all you could resort to was a situationship.

Admitted, it wasn't ideal for your future plans. You still wanted to get married and you still wanted children. Everything Erik didn't want back then.

However, one drunk night of FaceTime resulted in you promising to have his baby in the next few years. Was it a mistake?

At first, you believed that he didn't want to be in a relationship with you, but if there was one thing you could confirm, it was that he didn't want you to be boo'd up with anyone who wasn't him.

Until one day he made a suggestion.

"I think you need to be with me."

You stared at him, one eyebrow raised then looked away before speaking. "I really don't think that's a good idea, Erik." You couldn't look him in his eyes.

Of course you wanted him back, you were in love with him. No matter what he did, your heart couldn't let go of him. But you refused to be broken again.

"Why not?"

"Cuz I don't want to go through everything we did before. I can't."

After that, he didn't bring it up again.

Though you wanted him to, just to vent to him and get everything off your chest. But he wouldn't... So you were left with an active mind, which became even more active once he started showing up less.

Not a text, not a phone call.

Truly, you were exhausted. You were sick of him putting you in your feelings, just to go MIA and return at his own will.

It made you wonder if he even cared. Or were you just entertainment while other females weren't available?

You were a human with valid emotions.

No matter how much you cussed him in private, saying you were done with him, you knew it was lie.

He had you wrapped around his finger, because maybe fate decided that he was your soulmate. A twisted and sick joke made by the universe, tying you to this man who didn't know within himself what he wanted.

Maybe Prince Charming would be out there to save you one day, but for now... Erik Stevens had you under a spell that felt impossible to break.

I hope y'all enjoyed!

I been meaning to get this off my chest and into my diary (yes I have one), but I decided to write instead and of course due to story purposes I changed up quite a bit from my actual situation lol.

Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: May 17, 2020)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

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frigol · 3 years

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Charles say's anything

Erik:

#cherik #charles xavier #xmen #magneto #erik lehnsherr #bruh #Idk maybe erik is the bottom who knows #I think this would also be hank in dark pheonix huh

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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supersizemeplz · 3 years

Text

We Meet Again

Incubus!Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Female

Another #supersizedfic Halloween fic. I know, I know. It isn’t October yet but I wanted this to jumpstart my writings for it. I definitely want to push out more creepy/scary fics around that month. Let’s call this practice. Also, I’m calling him an incubus but I’m not sure if he fits that category fully in this. Idk. Enjoy!

Song suggestion: Algorhythm by Childish Gambino

"Come on down to Moreen's Super Savin-" The commercial was clipped short as the screen went black. It had to be the millionth time it'd came on in the past two weeks and it was becoming repetitive. The young woman sat the remote on the glass coffee table before she stood. Her adoring pet took that as her cue to hop down as well and follow her owner close.

"How about a snack, Mina? We deserve that right?" She spoke to the puppy as if she'd reply. Well she kind of did with a bark and shake of her tail. Sierra made her way to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. Only to be met with ice trays and frozen meats. Frowning a bit, she looked down to her animal companion.

"Looks like we're out, mamas." Closing the door, she made her way to the dining room table. Grabbing her keys from atop a local Moreen's Super Savings ad paper. She took a quick look in the hallway mirror and made a quick 180 to head up the stairs to her bedroom. "I guess I need something to cover up, huh."

Keys jingled in a hurried dance as she moved, sounding along with the calmed patter of the loyal four little paws. Out of the bedroom once she'd grabbed a hoodie, through the hallway, and down the stairs. Sierra slipped her braids into a bun atop her head, adjusting the silk headband that protected her edges.

Turning to the eager little bichon frise at her feet, she squatted to talk to the puppy. Mina. "Mommy will be back, ok? I'll get us some snacks from the store." She chuckled as Mina barked her reply. With a soft head rub, Mina turned away satisfied as she went back to play with her toys.

Locking the door behind her, Sierra made her way to her car. She was craving vanilla wafers and ice cream. The wind was a bit chilly as she got further from the house, picking up just a little. Fall was slowly making its way and she was amped for the holidays to start rolling in.

With a soft close of the car door, her right index finger pressed the start button to bring the car to life. The time on the radio read twenty minutes until ten o'clock which was just enough time for her to make it before the store's closing. Once she'd set the radio to a slow R&B jam, she was on her way.

A quick ten minute ride was all it took to reach the store since traffic was basically non-existent. Weird but not impossible. She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot without a second thought and turned off the car. "Out and in, two minutes." The words were a mumble as they left her lips, more so a reminder that the store would close soon and she needed not to slow poke.

"Welcome to Moreen's Super Savings." A lone cashier spoke to her as soon as she entered. She smiled with a polite greeting in reply before heading off to the frozen section. Her house shoes made little noise as she found the ice cream selection with ease. A glance to her watch showed she had eight minutes until closing. She had to hurry.

"Hi, how are you?" Her southern hospitality showed as she passed a man that occupied the aisle as well. Not really paying attention to any of his details. Her mission was ice cream, not a man. He gave a polite smile and simple reply, looking over to her once he heard her voice. From her quick glance, she could see his hands were empty though he seemed to be looking for a frozen dessert as well.

The moment between them came and went as she began her quick search once again. "Ah-ha." She spoke the small victory, grabbing the last personal sized vanilla blue bell pint. "Now to the cookies and then something for Mina." With a quick stride she went over two aisles to find the large variety of cookies.

Squatting down to look at the vanilla wafers on the bottom shelf, she saw someone standing at the end of the aisle out of her peripheral. She thought nothing of that as well until a weird feeling fell over her. And the figure was still there. Raising a brow, she looked over to where the figured stood. Or where it should've been. No one was there.

"Hmm." She gave a quick hum of confusion as she stood from her current position. With her choice of cookies in hand. Her head turned both ways to see if she was just imagining things and after seeing that no one was really there, she decided she was. A quick shoulder shrug ended the paranoid thought and she went on her way to get her last items. Coming to the end of the aisle, she stopped to look for the overhead sign to direct her to the pet aisle. Moreen's was kind of new to the town and she had only been here a total of three times, including now.

"Household, paper products, pets." She began her lengthy walk across the store, passing three aisles before she noticed that someone was mirroring her from the other end of the aisles. It could be ignored and pushed aside as a coincidence until she stopped to pretend that her sock needed adjusting. Only for the figure at the other end to stop as well. "What the hell?" She stood quickly to see who was the asshole sending her paranoia through the roof. She knew this store gave off weird vibes. Just as she looked up to see his face, the store went dark and its usual cheery pop songs went silent.

Her gasp was caught in her throat as her grip tightened on the old container of ice cream. She didn't even register the thought of it slowly attempting to escape its containment. Those big brown eyes of hers kept looking to the spot where the man had stood before the power cut.

"Shit." A short curse left her lips as the once frozen dessert made a mess of her hand. Giving one last glance to the spot, she slowly stepped backwards towards the registers before hurrying to it. Her eyes darted around the area to make sure she was still alone as she attempted to rid her hands of the sticky sweet. "There is no way they closed this damn store with me still inside. The cashier literally spoke to me when I walked in the door."

The door.

Sierra discarded the paper towel that was little help as she looked to the large glass double doors. Her exit. She almost scolded herself for getting so worked up, letting her fear of being in the dark affect her sense. Putting pep in her step, she made her way to the door with a quickness. A quick tug to the handle was supposed to ease her heart rate but it sent it soaring. Locked? Why in the hell is it locked? Oh no. She was trapped here, in the dark with her paranoia. Her back turned to press against the doors. "I just had to watch those damn scary movies today."

The dark aisles seemed to mock her as she scanned across them as quick as she could from where she stood. The light that came in from the windows of the store front could only reach so far. With a shivering hand, she fumbled to pull her phone from her pockets. "No, no, no!" She whisper yelled, holding the side buttons to try and make the screen come to life. Only to be met with the screen that told her that her phone was dead. "You were just on fifty percent. How the fuck could you be dead?"

A loud thud from her left caught her off guard, causing her to tense up and her phone to fall to the ground with a soft clap. She looked frantically to the direction of the noise as it's echo sent chills over her. "H-Hello?" Her words stuttered out as she slowly bent to pick up your phone. Maybe it's an employee? "I think you guys locked me in by accident.."

Still like a tree planted by the water, she didn't move. No one answered her call but she had an eerie feeling that she wasn't alone. "Come on, girl. You're stronger than this, remember what Dr. Hamina said.. Fears are nothing more than a state of mind. You're ok." Finally pulling her feet from the invisible glue that held them, she took a slow step forward. "There has to be an emergency door around here somewhere."

In the distance, just barely behind a faraway aisle, those four familiar red letters caught her eyes. "Exit." Hope sparked in her mind and she was happy to know there was another way out. The trick now was getting to the other side without being caught by the man that lurked in the shadows.

As if he'd known she'd thought of him, his voice surrounded her like a cloud. "Sierraaa. Don't be afraid of me, beautiful.." A sudden, single light cut on in the center of the aisles. Close enough to the back that she was directly across the supermarket from him. The soft buzz of the light could faintly be heard from where she stood. She squeezed her phone this time to cope with the fear piercing her as she took another step backwards towards the door.

"How do you know my name? W-Who are you?" She couldn't hide her fear if she wanted to. The waver of her voice gave it away and she hated that it. Because he chuckled at her. His back was to her and she could just make out him looking over his shoulder back at her. In an instant, the light cut out and it was darkness again before a different light popped on. This one was closer than the last but she still couldn't make him out fully. It was only his clothes that gave away his identity as the man that she'd spoken to on the ice cream aisle when she'd came in earlier.

"You don't remember me, sweetness?" He pretended to be offended, finally turning to reveal his face before the lights turned off. It popping back on with him closer. "All the nights we spent together during your college years, just as you were finding yourself. The nights we spent together.. in your dreams, sweetness." That name, that voice. That face.

"E-Erik?" His voice suddenly found its place in her mind. In those memories she'd locked away. "You're not real? H-How are you-? How did you-?"

She'd went through a weird patch in her early stages of youth and adulthood. Her grandmother had called it 'spirit soaring'. The gift ran through the women in her family, but she seemed to be the only one who couldn't keep her control of it. The first few times were innocent during her teen years with short trips around the home for just a minute. That soon crept up to her soul venturing around her neighborhood to see what night could bring. Snowballing into a faint obsession.

Her grandmother had warned her plenty times before of the addictions of her lucid dreaming. But she'd assured herself she could control it. Then she'd met Erik, the man of her dreams, literally. He'd resembled an actor she'd adored and that was his bait. Everything was perfect between the two until it would inch closer to her having to leave him. And he didn't like that, he wanted her company full time. He'd began to find ways to prolong her visits with him.

She began to notice that he wasn't under her control like everything else in her dreams. It honestly scared her. His demeanor changed and he became obsessed with her, finding ways to pull her under when she'd fall asleep. Passive aggressive and manipulating were his sudden traits. The last time she'd seen him ended with a scuffle. Scarring his left eye and her getting away by a hair.

"How I found you?" He spoke her thoughts, finally allowing her to see his face. That familiar scar was healed now. Making him look like a monster from some horror film. "I never lost you, sweetness. I've just waited patiently.. watching you from the shadows..." He took a step towards her, taking in the sweet scent of her fear. "Never..out of..reach."

The lights began to flicker and her adrenaline started pumping. Sierra began to rack her mind for an escape. The exit sign. It was the same escape route she'd use in her dreams long ago. Her feet started their movement before it fully registered in her mind. "Just make it to the door."

Erik's laughter filled the air around her, loud and mocking as she kept her quick pace. "You can run, but you can't hide. Escape is inevitable.." His words were chilling to hear. He really wanted her for himself.

The door seemed to be getting further away. Like she was running backwards. Tears began to gloss her eyes as she became weaker. Her legs were getting tired, but she pressed on. Just make it to the door. Still the door grew smaller with every attempt to reach it.

"Nooo!" Her knees hit the ground below her, meeting the cold tile floor. "It can't end like this.. Leave me ALONE!!" She screamed into the darkness. A last effort to fight her attacker.

The air was still once her echos silenced. Her eyes moved around as best they could in the darkness. The light above her popped on and the slow echo of footsteps in the darkness came towards her. She trembled where she sat, trying to crawl to the door as best she could.

Erik emerged from the darkness like a villain and stopped just before her. "When will you learn sweetness? Running will only tire you out.." He squatted before her, bringing a hand to her cheek to rid it of a stray tear. "Stay with me and we can spend this life together. Happily. Forever."

"This moment.." He spoke lowly, eyes glazed with lust. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long, my sweetness, to have you all to myself.." He rolled his shoulders as he hummed. "..And here we are. Alone, at last. Destined to be brought together as one."

Licking his lips, he held a smirk at the corner of his lips. "Isn't this what we once dreamed for? To be together forever?" His smile widened at her drooping eyes as they fought to stay open. "Well, I did. At least."

Her lips tried to speaks but all her energy was being drained. His voice began to sound distorted to her. She didn't want him to win this time. Have to..stay..awake. Darkness.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Can you hear me?" The voice was far off in the darkness, barely audible. Sierra fought to make out the words on her mind. Please don't let him win. Her body wouldn't listen to her in her struggle. She screamed internally at herself to wake up, wanting whoever was trying to talk to her know that she could hear them. It seemed to take forever. "There you go. Breathe."

She had shot up to a seated position, breathing heavily and looking around to see if he was still there. Her eyes held worry as she was only met with two E.M.T. and a small group of employees in the distance. The female E.M.T gave an assuring smile to ease her nerves, though it didn't help much. Though it did calm her a little to see a friendly face. "An employee found you laying in the aisle, nearly unresponsive. So we're gonna take you to the hospital and make sure everything is okay. Are you alright with that, hunny?"

All Sierra could do was nod, needing to get out of this damned store. She'd never come back here, that was for damned sure. The medical duo eased her onto a stretcher and gave her a water for her throat. Since she hadn't uttered a word since she came to. "We'll do a few check ups in the truck on the way there. You just let me know if anything feels weird suddenly or hurts. Ok..."

Tears blurred Sierra's vision as she was lifted into the ambulance, listening to the distant sounds of the medical personnel that assured that she would be just fine. Her mouth didn't open and their words didn't register as she looked forward. Not directly looking to the group of employees that watched her being taken away, but more so to what was behind them where he stood. He was relaxed as he watched her with a smirk. His words rung off in her head as she noticed him vanish behind the passing of employees heading back inside. "Alone, at last. Destined to brought together as one.." She was stuck with him forever.

#black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #oneshot #halloween fic #supersize the spooky

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i-did · 3 years

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HELLO 👋 I WAS SENT HERE BY PALMETT-HOES. What are your thoughts on the foxes + tattoos?? Originally it was Neil + tattoos but if you have thoughts of the other foxes too I'd love to hear them if you want to share 🥺

Okay, so I actually might try to become a tattoo artist and love tattoo culture. I also have already about 30 tattoos, some the size of my whole hand and some the size of a quarter, a lot of mixed and matched stuff. I also always try to think of the foxes in their timeline, so 2006-2007 era, and when I think said foxes would get tattoos in their life and why.

NEIL

First off: I personally HC Neil has keloid scarring and a lot of scarring so tattooing is hard on his skin. I have a friend who has more scars than I've ever seen on anyone else IRL before and we both love tattoos but even with him trying to prep the artist, unless they were a scar micropigmentation expert, they usually underestimated how hard it was going to be to tattoo on his skin. It's uneven and dense and doesn’t hold ink well. His non-scarred skin faired a lot better but his skin was something artists just weren't prepared for. I might get some micropigmentation on some skin grafts I got to even out the coloring and make it look more “natural” but I’m waiting to see if the pigment will settle and heal more first.

I personally don't see Neil ever getting a tattoo, and this bums a lot of people out lmao. I think his scars are too thick and too raised and it's too cosmetic and aesthetic centric for it to be something on his radar. On his skin that isn't touched by scars I think he would want to leave as be mostly out of neutrality. I don't see Neil as the type of sentimental tattooer, I see him thinking “well if it matters to me I remember it” sort of and him wanting to keep the really deep stuff personal just for himself and even another person putting it on him is someone else there. I think if he were ever to get a tattoo, he would be like… idk it would be the kind that says “yes I got shot, stop asking” over a bullet hole scar or like that one guy whos missing his leg and above it there's a tattoo that says “one foot in the grave” that's the only type of tattoo I can see Neil doing and even still I'm not convinced he would do it.

ANDREW

I don't ever see Andrew covering up his scars with tattoos either. I think he likes how the armbands can come on and off and be fully covered to not at all. He's not ashamed of them but he's private, and I think the tattoos could seem like he's trying to hide them when he's not-it's just nobody's business. I think if he were to get anything it would be American-traditional, it ages well, its classic, and doesn't really go out of style. Before the…. Let's say 80s, there weren't the different tattoo “styles” like there are today. It was just… tattoos in America. There was Japanese-style tattooing and then American-style tattooing, and since tattooing started curating its underground culture in the ’50s in America… those circles did not blend. They do now, but they sure as hell didn't then. So I could see Andrew with American-traditional because it's classic and I could see it appealing to him, but I could also see Russian prison tattoo style black-work something that appeals to him too. Get him some gulag tats. However if he had those, and since I currently HC him as white and with a buzzed or grown-out messy buzzed head, he would deadass look like a fuckin skinhead so... yeah lmao. Overall I don't see Andrew getting tattoos really, but if he would, American-traditional seems fitting.

KEVIN

Okay, so Kevin out here looking like a MF SoundCloud rapper with his single face tat and nothing else going on. I know it might be OOC but since his mom is Irish and I HC his dad as Maori (even tho in the canon Wymack likely has 90s new age tribalism, which is a complicated issue but instead I choose culturally significant tattoos over the tattoo trend that was largely popularized by a movie lmao anyways-).

So I think Kevin is the only one who dives into tattoo culture and bonds over it with his dad. If he just has the chess piece, it still feels like a branding, like a mark so distinct against the rest of him, but one full sleeve of Celtic knots and symbols and the other arm full of Maori's distinct tattoos of swirls and symbols could be a cool way for him to reclaim his own skin and have it not be something he did just to cover something up, but make tattooing something connecting him to his cultures and family.

NICKY

Nicky is the guy who got like, fierce, or pride, or something like that tattooed if he got a tattoo. I see Nicky getting a pride tattoo of some kind maybe and it being calligraphy or like if Nicky/Erik is a bear then he gets a bear paw. I could also see him getting his and Erik’s wedding date tattooed somewhere. I also don't see him as the type who didn't know how much research and shit goes into finding the artist for you, and kinda assumes you can go to just anyone and just walk in and then was like “wait what” when he couldn’t (or couldn't if he wanted to get exactly what he had in mind) so he probably got/gets tattooed by some non-homophobic apprentice, maybe even that apprentices first tattoo, and also since Nicky is Mexican and darker-skinned I doubt he thinks to put on sunscreen and the sun makes his ink lines bleed and so it doesn't age the best (it be like that).

ALLISON

Got a trendy tramp stamp to like, really stick it to her parents. Right on her lower back I bet it's the classic 2000s swirls and a butterfly and some of those stars, idk what they're called. If she was a young 20-year-old now tho she totally would have gotten a fine line tattoo, like not a tight three, a real 1 needle tattoo. They were seen as really nice back then and “so Cali” and like I could see /maybe/ her getting it done before she's 30 but they were not that common yet and like micro-realism is so new we still kinda don't know how it's going to age at all since tattoos before it have been designed they way they have for aging. Again if she got a micro-realism/single needle tattoo tho it would be something kinda basic like a butterfly or like a lion. I swear I've seen the same google image lion tattooed on a lotta people and like IDC it's your skin. But yeah, she gets the classic 2000s swirl butterfly and stars tattoo above her crack one night, maybe after a really bad phone call with her parents and she got drunk and pissed off. Maybe someone said she couldn't take the pain. (which btw, tattoos don’t hurt as much as they make them out to be in shows and shit, they can hurt tho)

DAN

I HC Dan as very dark-skinned, she's 75% black and 25% Sioux and grew up in a very very white area when outside her home on the res. Tattoo culture is still really sexist and really colorist, and at this point in history I think if she ever did want a tattoo, she maybe asked vaguely about it and they flat out said “I don't know how to tattoo on black skin” or “it doesn't go with my art” which… are shithole excuses and I think she thought, “well fuck u too” and never thought about it much since then.

RENEE

I HC as Renee as darker-skinned than Dan, and like the only places she could possibly get tattooed are maybe her palms, the bottoms of her feet, or her inner mouth probably. Some people genuinely are so dark that tattooing is hard, because it's based on the concept of black ink on a lighter surface, which is why scarification catches on in cultures where the skin is too dark to pigment with ink effectively. However, the idea of fuckin, 15-year-old Renee who is still Natalie with “PU$$Y” tattooed in her mouth kinda sends me. I think lil kid Renee thought she was gangster, and tbh she was, and I could see her getting some “fuck you/in your face” tattoo, especially if she was a lesbian in such a homophobic world, getting that tattooed is even better. We also know she got her back tatted in the EC with angel wings that look almost closer to dragon wings, so I imagine they show up as almost raised dark lines like scars from the untrained tattoo artist going way too deep, making it a cross between a tattoo and scarification, even if accidental. (also white ink really wasn't a thing yet and even now is still kinda hard to tell how it will heal, so that's why I don't think she gets any white ink tats)

MATT

He's a rich boy from NYC, he could really get like… whatever he wants. Once he's famous he can afford it that's for sure, but even before then he could with his allowance similar to Allison (even if on a completely different level). However, I doubt he gets anything lol. He's not particularly religious in my HC and doesn't have the same sense of being lost like I feel Kevin does with his own parents (I mean Kevin was raised like an orphan, kinda so it makes sense). I need to develop Matt’s background further on what it means to him personally to be a Filipino-American. I have several ideas about how his parents met in the Philippines and then came here but I would need to flesh out locations and then local cultures and then his parents said opinions on tattoos and then how matt would react to said opinions. I could see him possibly getting something for dan or his kids tattooed on. Which really makes me want to have him get his first kid's name tattooed really big or intricate somewhere like on his chest over his heart and then his kid comes out as trans and he's like “...fuck” lmao and gets it removed maybe and then redone or something. I see him viewing tattoos are personal and symbolic, and if he would get something it would probably be family-oriented, possibly Dan's portrait or like his baby's footprint which I've seen before.

AARON & SETH

Stick and pokes were not nearly as common then as they are now, and I feel like people kinda have to remember how taboo tattooing was then and still is now in a lot of cultures. My family is Not happy lmaoo. But it is what it is. Stick and Pokes were not a thing bored white middle-class teens did like I see them doing now. It was seen as super sketchy and I know someone who was 16 getting tattooed in a garage by someone who was both drunk and just out of prison for the first time, and that was seen as sketchy as stick and pokes at the time. I could imagine either Seth or Aaron having a failed and fucked up stick and poke tattoo, and out of the two of them, Seth seems like the drunk tat guy. Maybe once he got drunk and mad as fuck after Allison and him broke up and she said he didn't seem serious enough so he got her name drunkenly tattooed on his arm or something and then she was even more pissed because it was spelled wrong “YOU FORGOT THE SECOND L OMFG SETH.” (I can also imagine his future girlfriends don't love it lmao). I also love the idea of Seth just having Marvin the Martian or the Tasmanian Devil tattooed on his ass.

Anyways sorry for the lack of pictures but I didn't want to do that... so I didn't. I didn't go into niche tattoo culture and history like I was expecting myself to but this also got fuckin long. Might not be what you were hoping for at all but it is my current opinion on the foxes and tattoos. (This is also surprisingly free of my own personal aesthetic opinions on tattoos and that I'm kinda proud of ngl, since my preference is none of these, but also I grew up in a very different tattoo time than them)

#aftg #all for the game #ask #mailob #fig writes

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brattywriters-anonymous · 3 years

Text

Shoot Your Shot

I found this meme and it screamed Cray Cray Erik so I chose to try my hand at this lol

Erik Stevens x Kesia (pronounced Kee-sa) Mannor (OC)

“Baaabe you know I gotta find a new outfit for my promotion party! I must’ve looked in my closet a million times and I couldn’t find anything!” Kesia was on facetime with her boyfriend of six months, Erik Stevens. When they first got together, she didn’t know much about him, except for he was in the Navy for six years before getting out and whilst enlisted he got his bachelors and master degrees in Engineering. He kept information about himself simple with Kesia.

“Girl, you look amazing in whatever you wear! Why you gotta go up to that mall? You know that’s where all them thirsty ass niggas be at.” Erik protests. Kesia rolls her eyes, “Aye! What I tell you about rolling your eyes at me?!” Erik’s face goes stoic. It sends a chill down Kesia’s spine as she immediately responds, “Don’t do it.” He nods, “Exactly.” “I’ll only be gone for an hour, I’ll be back at my house and you can see me try it on!” “You got 59 minutes, babygirl. Make em count!”

Kesia puts the finishing touches on her makeup as Erik admires her from her bed, “Damn baby, you sure we can’t just celebrate in the crib tonight? I’d make it worth skipping your party...” He saunters over to her and attempts wraps himself around her from the back, she slivers out of his grasp, walking to the kitchen, “Mmm mm! I worked my ass off for this gig, I’m celebrating with my people, and my baaaabyy.. We can do all of that when we’re drunk and back here!” Erik curses under his breath and accepts defeat. Just as he was about to sit back down on Kesia’s bed, her phone rings. It’s an unknown Oakland number. Erik knows everything about Kesia so he knows she doesn’t leave numbers unsaved. He yells towards the kitchen, “Keeee! Who’s calling you from this unknown number?!”

Kesia freezes in her tracks, “Uhhh.. idk baby. Maybe a telemarketer.” Erik twists his lip, “Hmph.” His “spidey senses” as Kesia loved to put it, were tingling. He always knew when something wasn’t right.. She blames it on his deployments and overall lack of trust in people. He accepts the incoming call.

“Yeee, ay wassup shorty! This Dontay, dude from the mall earlier! Sorry it took me a few to call you, I had a few errands to run. But you free tonight?” Kesia scurries into her room once she hears the stranger’s voice. Erik shakes his head at her and hangs up the phone. “I told you about them thirsty ass niggas at the mall!”

DING! DING!

Her phone lights up as an incoming text pops up from the unsaved contact, Kesia reaches toward Erik for her phone, he raises it above his head and out of her reach, “Nah. You need not worry about this phone tonight. Finish getting dressed.” She pouts as she sits down to put her heels on.

Kesia has been entertaining all of her loved ones since she arrived at her promotion party Erik put together for her at a new Reggae club in downtown Oakland called New Karibbean City. Erik has purposefully been apart from her the entire time, yet he has her phone on lock. It doesn’t help that his face unlocks it as well. Kesia has seen enough of him typing away on her phone so she sneaks away from the party as she sees him heading to the restrooms.

“E!” He turns around, “Ke?” He responds in the same tone as her, “Can I have my phone back?” He looks up in the air as if he’s thinking about it, then he hands it to her from his pants pocket. She unlocks it and doesn’t see a trace of the unknown number. Not in the call history or text messages. She raises her eyebrow, “Erik Stevens.. What did you do?” he shrugs, “I didn’t do anything” He embraces his girlfriend as he congratulates her, “I’m proud of you Ke. You really did work hard for the promotion. I’ll see you when you get to the house. The key still under that plant on the porch?” Kesia looks confused, “Uh.. yeah. Where are you going?” Erik lets out a deep, yet scary laugh, “The less you know..” He gives her a long, deep kiss on her red stained lips, then leaves out the back door.

Kesia gets out of her Uber, stumbling to her door. She struggles to unlock her door and get in her dark house, thinking her boyfriend is already sleeping. “Good, I don’t gotta get yelled at tonight. I was NOT tryna hear--” “Hear what, princess?” Erik’s brassy voice comes from the far corner of her living room, Kesia jumps, “SHIT ERIK! Why you standing over there in the damn dark?” Erik ignores Kesia’s inquiry, takes a seat on the couch, whilst grabbing the remote control. “Come, sit.” Kesia does as she’s told.

Erik turns on the television then changes the channel to 2.

“Good evening Oakland! This is Noah Clark for your 10PM News on DWOL Channel 2. BREAKING NEWS from the Eastmont Hills area. Covering the story is our reporter, Rebecca Moore, Rebecca? What do ya have?”

There’s a pregnant pause as the reporter listens in for the host’s question, “Yes, I am here on the corner of 79th Avenue and Hillside Street where this home that you see behind me, has been riddled with bullets around 8:45 this evening. Police that arrived on the scene believes that two to three suspects drove past this residence and unloaded shots from tactical T-91 assault rifles. Our Oakland PD SWAT doesn’t even have these in their possession. A witness who seems to live in this home, tells us what happened.” The program transitions to an interview that was recorded slightly earlier to a familiar face, “Yeah, so.. I was waiting on this girl I just met to pull up on me. I was on the porch. Next thing I know, my dog started barking from the back yard. As soon as I turned to see what she was barking at, I hear shots. I duck down for cover! I don’t know who could’ve done this. I don’t got no enemies.” The sound fades out as Rebecca’s voice forms in the background, “Twenty nine year old Dontay Phillips lives in this southeast Oakland home with his bedridden grandmother who was stirred awake by the 57 shots let off by these military grade weapons. Luckily no one was shot in the melee of gunfire, but it sure did shake Phillips up.” Dontay’s voice pans back in, “I’m grateful to the lord above me and my granny still here.”

Kesia watches the tv in awe. She cannot believe that Erik shot up Dontay’s grandmother’s house, She looks up at her conniving boyfriend, “How did yo--” He slips his hand in between her thighs where her phone rested and holds it up, “I told you.. the less you know..” Kesia slaps his arm, “You could’ve killed them!” “Ke, you know if I wanted Dontay dead, he would’ve been dead. I ain’t know he lived in his grandma house. He flexed to m---to you that he lived alone.” “Waiit.. He did what now?” Erik explains that while you were keeping your friends and family company, he was texting Dontay telling him that you were free for the night, plans got canceled. He sent you--Erik his address and told you--him.. that he lives alone. “He’s lucky I just wanted to scare his bitch ass. If I wanted to kill him, him and his granny would’ve been gone..” Erik cuts the TV off then stares at you.. awaiting for a response. “Why are they saying there were multiple assault rifles? You got somebody to do this crazy shit with you?” Erik flashes his bottom fangs as he cheeses at her odd question, “I got three of those bad bitches! I call em Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.” Kesia rolls her eyes at his names for his guns that could’ve killed some guy you had no intentions of even getting to know. “I just switched em out every 20 or so rounds.. each one got a different serial number on the shells.. all of em are impossible to track.”

Kesia stares at him for a spell, then she bursts out laughing. “Okay so you CRAZY CRAZY? Got it!” Erik protests, “Uhh uh. I told you about them thirsty ass niggas. You had the audacity to give that sucka ass nigga yo number.. I had to regulate. Oh, and I blocked his number after I deleted the text thread and his call.” With that, Erik gets up and snatches his shirt off. That makes Kesia gasp with a hint of a moan. Erik’s ears perk up after hearing it, “So you coming to bed baby? Let’s finish celebrating that promotion.” Kesia grabs his hand and leads him to her bedroom while shaking her head at her crazy boyfriend, “Let’s.”

Hope you all like it! I know I’m rusty as shit but hopefully requests will roll in and I can get back in the swing of things.

@chaneajoyyy What my favorite librarian think about it?!

#bp fanfic #bp fanfiction #bp au #Erik Stevens #Erik Stevens x oc #erik stevens fanfic #crazy!erik #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger fandom

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thehomierobbstark · 5 years

Note

Hey! Okay so check me out, a short Eric x Reader fic based on the video of Cyn Santana and Joe Budden where she’s clearly smacked and rapping along with the song and he’s tryna take the cup out of her hand but she won’t let him? Idk if anyone’s done that but I think it’ll be cool if you did

A/N: Ok so I went ahead and change the song because I didn’t like that one lol, but you already know which state and city I had to rep for his one XD. Hope you enjoy it anon! I had a lot of fun with this one! even though Joe Budden can suck my dick heres the video for reference!

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!! x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

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

Red, white, and green lights cast their flickering shadows onto the hardwood floor, the soft white walls near the tree also catching some of their glow. Speakers mounted in the corners of the room play the upbeat rap songs from the radio, the bass helping to fill the empty pockets of the nearly bare space.

It was December 21st and you and Erik were cleaning the house in preparation for the holiday festivities, like the White Elephant gift exchange you’d had planned later on tonight with your close friends. All the couches were pushed back against the wall and the decorated Christmas tree was the only piece with some personality, all the presents you and Erik had gotten for each other hidden away in separate corners of the house until you could wrap them and put them under the tree.

Erik was currently in the kitchen washing the dishes and playing bartender, a couple bottles of Hennessy and Malibu rum out on the marble countertop next to a small bowl of melting ice chips. He’d woken up early that morning and made a delicious breakfast of cheesy shrimp and grits and buttery english muffins with strawberry jam to help fuel the both of you for the mountain of chores ahead of you for the day.

It was your idea to incorporate alcohol into the mix, hence the bottle of rum that you’d been sipping off of all morning. He’d wanted to start you off simple with something like mimosas, but when you shot that idea down and attempted to climb the counters to reach the top shelf, he relented and swiped the white 750ml bottle and gave it to you. He figured it was way better than the bottle of Jäger your short arms were no doubt intending on reaching for.

After pouring a few fingers of the drink and some pineapple juice into a red cup, he sent you off to the living room to get started on your part of cleaning the floors while he rolled up his sleeves and got to work on the kitchen.

Had he not been so invested in scraping the grits off the bottom of the pot, he might have heard it when you tiptoed yourself back into the kitchen and poured yourself another drink, taking the bottle of rum with you on your way out.

You were so excited for the first of many Christmas and Kwanza festivities you and Erik had lined up for the end of the year, and you couldn’t wait to get started on celebrating.

…Even if it meant drinking just a little bit too much while sweeping the floors.

Although the music was still playing around the house, you’d gotten mysteriously quiet after your last vocal outburst, singing ‘Oh fuck. Shit. BITCH!’ at the top of your lungs from Sheck Wes’ “Mo Bamba”. Erik almost spit out a mouthful of Henny all over his clean dishes when he’d heard you, clutching his chest and laughing with tears in his eyes at his wild ass babygirl. He just knew you were in there with your foot propped on something twerking up a storm.

After recovering from a couple cleansing deep breaths, he tossed the dish towel in his hands down on the counter and turned to go and check on you to see what you were getting yourself into.

It was when he’d passed the still mostly full bottle of Pure White Hennessy and now cold bowl of water that he noticed the bottle of Malibu was gone.

“Aw hell,” he mutters under his breath, his footsteps quickening.

“What her tipsy ass out here doing now?”

As he rounds the corner into the living room, he walks out just in time to see you setting up your phone against said bottle of missing rum on one of the coffee tables, giving the camera the perfect view of the gigantic beautifully decorated Christmas Tree in the background with you standing in front of it.

Your cleaning fit had somewhat changed; you were now sporting a tiny little red and green elf’s hat on the top of your head that looked like it could’ve belonged to a toy doll.

Where did you even find that?

Erik groans and drags a hand down his face, shaking his head at your silliness when his eyes zero in on the contents of the bottle behind your phone. Through the slim little separation in white labeling he could see that at least half of what was in there before was now gone. It was ¾ full when he gave it to you.

He takes a step towards you, but right as he does the song changes over the speakers. You start grooving, drink in one hand and broom in the other as your start to bob back and forth for a few seconds before jumping right into the first verse.

“I go on and on, can’t understand how it last so long. I must have superpowers, rap two hundred twenty five thousand hours. Get a calculator do the math, made a thousand songs that made you move ya ass.”

You were rapping and two-stepping your short little self without a care in the world, bending your knees and winding yourself down to the ground at the last line, pink tongue poking out from between your teeth as you popped your booty.

You stopped your foolishness for a second to read something on your phone, eyes scanning over the screen. Without warning you toss your head back with a cheek aching smile, your sweet infectious laughter flowing out from your lips, the kind of laughter you only made when you were too tipsy and letting Erik whisper dumb childish jokes into your ear.

That was his laugh. Only he was supposed to be making you laugh like that. So what the fuck were you reading that had you tee-heeing his laugh?

You were up on your feet and back to dancing again, taking a sip from your cup before continuing rapping and using the broom handle as a microphone.

Before he can get all the way over to you he see’s the activity on your phone screen first, seeing the trail of hearts bubbling up from the corner of your screen and the comments in the middle being pushed up and replaced as new ones came in.

Yass bitch!

You betta WHINE hunny!

Fuck it up Y/N!

OKAY MISS THING!!! 👏🏿👏🏿👏🏿

Was that instagram live???

“Oh naw.”

Erik was done. Party over. Not only were you out here already day drunk at 12:30 on a Saturday, you were acting a fool and shaking your ass in front of all of instagram.

His big bulky body appears on screen as he attempts to reach over you and take the cup from your hand, telling you you were being cut off.

You move the cup out of his range and try to block him with your other hand holding the broom when your favorite part of the song comes on.

(Whats my favorite word?)

“BEEEATCH!” You scream loudly, laughing at both yourself and Erik’s increasingly frustrated face as he continues trying to reach over you.

“Ok, you doin the most now,” he eyes you in warning, but your glossed over eyes don’t even catch it because you’re already gearing up for the next line.

(Why they gotta say it like $hort?)

“BEEEATCH!” You sing loudly again, this time directly at Erik, and there’s no mistaking who the words were intended for.

You keep giggling uncontrollably, stumbling over the next few words as you sing those to him, too.

“You know they can’t play on my court, can’t hang with the big dogs STAY ON THE PORCH!”

You nudge him away again using your shoulder, your body feeling tired and heavy from all the energy you used laughing up a storm.

Fed up with you, he pops you hard and quick on your ass, finally taking the cup from your hand after you instinctively reach back to rub at your bottom.

“Owww!” You whine, lips poked out in a quivering out, and before you know it the broom is taken from your grip and your body is hoisted up onto Erik’s shoulder.

“‘Owww’ nothin! I’m not playin witcho lil ass no more dammit, you goin to bed.”

He grabs your phone too as he starts towards the stairs to the bedroom, nosily reading the comments to see if he needed to add any more scars to his chest.

WHACKKK!

Party pooper :(

She was just having FUN!

Damn Erik why yo ass so mean :/

Oooohh they bout to FUCK!

That last comment pissed him off. He was done with instagram too.

“Alla yall can shut the fuck up! I’ll block all yall on this bitch, KEEP PLAYIN!!”

You were giggling again, little body jiggling over his shoulder.

“Why you yelling at the phone like a old man E?” You ask him, trying to turn around to see what he was doing.

He rolls his eyes, grumbling as he shuts down the video and closes the app.

“You can hush too. Leaving me to clean the whole house while you get to take a nap.”

“But I’m not tired!!” You protests, kicking your feet a little as you see the carpet changer under his feet as he reaches the bedroom.

“Maybe not, but you will be after I wear that ass out after tonight,” he bites you on one of your cheeks before popping you on the ass again and tossing you onto the bed.

“Now take your ass to bed or you ain’t getting no presents for Christmas!”

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

Warnings: Humor, Silly Foolishness, Erik being a Buzzkill

#nons #TheHomieFics #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x black!reader #erik killmonger x reader #bp #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fandom

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eye-raq · 5 years

Text

Who named you?!!!

Erik Stevens x Beulah May Jenkins 😊

Warnings: HUMOR, and I guess fluff.

Summary: (imagine Erik finding out his girl got an old ass name) Erik and his girl get ready to go out to a house warming of her families, but before they go Erik stumbles upon some “new” information.

I hope y’all like this little one shot that me and my friends in the group chat cooked up 😂😂😂 we some goofy bitches. Not really tagging alot of people because this is meant for a little fun to read I guess lol. I hope its good.

“What the fuck? LAH LAH!!”

Lah Lah was in the middle of laying her baby hairs, putting her faux locs up in a bun, wearing high waisted ligh wash jeans, a crop top in red and a pair of black heels.

“Erik clearly I’m fucking busy babe!”

“Nah this some serious shit here! Don’t make me have to tell yo ass twice.”

She groans loudly, stomping out of the bathroom and down the hall to their master bed room. When she enters, she stumbles backward, her ankle sort of twisting awkwardly now shooting pain up her calve from her heels.

The color drained from her face, she was haunted.

“Who the hell is Beulah May Jenkins?!” Erik was shirtless, only in his Jean joggers and Nike vapor max plus.

She had a pained look on her face as she sped over, snatching up the ID, holding it behind her back.

“None of your got damn business! OOOO!! Damn why you going through my shit?!” She was throwing a minnie tempo tantrum. Erik noticed how jumpy she was, eyes looking anywhere but at him. He had a peering look in his eyes, tongue running over his upper teeth.

“Number one, your shit was near my shit. I found this fucking thing under my side of the bed. Number two-“

“Number TWO sit your big ass DOWN, and shut the fuck UP.” She pressed with irritation, counting off on her fingers dramatically trying to divert his attention away from where he was headed.

“So kindly get dressed so we can be outta here.” She wanted it to be over but surely she knew that Erik wouldn’t let this go. He clapped his hands together so loud it echoed off the walls.

“AYEEE! Let’s turn this shit back around Lah Lah Loopsy!!” He sounded out, holding up two fingers.

“Number two, why the fuck you got Big Mama name on here instead of Lah Lah?!” He gave her a quizzical look.

Lah Lah’s eyes almost left her sockets.

“What the fuck you in Lah Lah land or some shit?!” He glowered, scuffing afterwards.

“It’s-it’s not-I.” She could rip her hair out. She could not believe this was happening right now.

Before she could even think, Erik snatched up the ID again.

“ERIK STOP!!” She could cry hard.

She felt her heart race, her leg jiggled with anxiety. This was a huge secret for her.

Erik scanned the ID with his large muscular back facing her, silence between them. The only sound that could be heard was him tapping the card with his fingers. Lah Lah just stood there hugging herself, eyes burning a hole into his back. After what felt like a minute, she watches as Erik shakes his head, taking in a long obnoxious deep breath, before turning back around, scratching his brow.

“Lah Lah...From What I have gathered, it appears this is, YOUR drivers license and not some practical joke from Spencer’s gift shop.” He spoke with fake professionalism. He gazed, one eyebrow flicked upwards into his dreads.

Lah Lah ass couldn’t even speak.

“The name on this drivers license reads, Beulah May-“ he clears his throat, a fist to his mouth.

“Sorry, I had a tickle in my throat, but the name here reads Beulah May Jenkins.” He pointed to each name, from first to last, confusion written on his face, his own words scrambled.

“So in my head I’m like nah uh uh fuck that shit this can’t be her with this geriatric ass name, but then I look below it and see 10/15/1989.” He laughs as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“This is DEFINITELY a real ID and everything too.”

She looked as if she were going to faint. He fixed her with a hard gaze.

“It appears that my girl going to late night bingo with Dolores and Betty.” He stared briefly as if curious and evasive.

Lah Lah let out a long agonizing breath, shaking her head before placing her hands on her hips.

“So basically you wanna play?! Either way you know it’s mines nigga!!!” She could crap her pants right now from the embarrassment.

Erik folds his arms over his bare chest.

“Who did this shit to you? Who named you?!” He tried to convey a sincere tone but Lah Lah... Beulah knew that Erik was working his way up to clowning her more.

“Who was it?! Miss Karen or Mr Rod?” Erik licked at his bottom lip with a smirk slowly rising.

“Ole soul food ass name. You gonna tell me who it was?! Or stay mute?! I’m already flabbergasted.” He was struggling not to unravel with laughter.

“It was my DAD ERIK.” She was hopeless at this point. Trust Beulah always wondered why the fuck her father would do that shit!

“NAH NOT TRIPPLE OG ROD.” Erik shook his head frantically, LITERALLY DISTRAUGHT.

“Yes bitch ass nigga it was my damn daddy! Idk maybe he was drunk or some shit why don’t you ask him yourself.”

“Mannnnnnn” He slid his hand down his face.

“What was your mama doing though? She ain’t have a say?” His voice sort of broke from the laughter that wanted to burst.

“She said my Dad wanted to remember his great grandson through me so..”

“Great Grandson?” Erik scrunches his face, shaking his head slightly while his dreads shifted a little on his forehead.

“You know what the fuck I meant. Grandmom fool.”

“Damn...you remember the Civil Rights Movement?” He sat down then, hand under his chin, his leg crossed animatedly.

She was shamefaced. Beulah wanted to press rewind to stop this shit from happening.

“How about I sing this for you maybe your old ass will remember 🎶 we shall over come/ we shall overcome 🎶 “ you remember that? He had this vacant expression as if to play stupid.

“Erik I sware to fucking God I’m gonna fuck you up.”

“You sure you can do that? That osteoporosis ain’t killing you baby?” He spoke that with a fake elderly voice.

She could literally feel the steam blow from her ears. She just wanted to drink, check out her older cousins new place, stuff her face, and dance. Now things were taking a turn for the worse.

“You know what else makes this shit funny?!” That wide dimpled smile was unstoppable.

“Humor me.”

“You really call yourself Lah Lah in short for Beulah.”

This man was in shambles. He couldn’t hardly breath, the entire situation hard to get over.

“All them times your fingers locked up from stroking this dick, damn baby! You got arthritis, osteoporosis, next thing you know you’ll have kyphosis from me blowing your back out.”

“What the FUCK is Kyphrosis?”

“A hump back.” Erik goofy ass wheezed.

“I ain’t the one using a fake name ERIK STEVENS.” Beulah wasn’t really good with come backs.

“Oh nah uh uh don’t put me in that category I’m not the one with a name that belong to a women who was 30 during the prohibition.”

Lah Lah began to retort but her cellphone rang.

“Hello?! Oh...sorry mama. Yeah me and Erik are on our way now.” Lah Lah snapped her fingers at Erik to get dressed, watching him lift from the bed with his eyes dancing with humor, picking up his plain white t shirt and north face windbreaker in red and black. Lah Lah hung up the phone quick, turning to Erik with a scolding look.

“Now I hope you got all your laughs in nigga. Please don’t keep this shit up at the party E.”

Erik shrugged.

“Not making any promises, depends on how my mind feels.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing her things before heading out with Erik.

————————————————————————

“Hey! Lah and Erik are here!”

Erik greets her family, his mind taking in the fact that even her own family called her Lah. Erik felt reassured and happy that everyone were thinking the same thing. While here at the party, it became so unbearable to keep quiet once he saw her father talking it up in the kitchen with a glass of gin.

“Erik! What’s happening young blood?” He shook Erik’s hand, while he said hi to the others.

“Nothing much Mr. Rod, just hanging in there.”

Lah Lah enters, giving her love to everyone before grabbing up a punch bowl, leading her cousin towards the dining room.

“She still got you calling her Lah Lah Erik?” The way her drunk uncle asked that could have had him spitting out his drink in laughter.

“I’m still trying to understand why your old tired ass named your daughter Beulah.” One of her Father’s friends shook his head.

“For as long as I know, I would NEVER ever ever ever get with a girl named Beulah, sound like a name you would give a senior citizen.”

Erik couldn’t take it. He snorted a laughter into his cup, juice bubbles forming.

“Man I remember when I held her in my arms, she was so beautiful, still is. I asked this bastard what her name was.” He friend looked up at Erik, giving him complete eye contact.

“Well, you could probably guess what it was right?”

This caused some of the other men to chime in with chuckles.

“Beulah May Jenkins.” Erik actually took his time to sound that out in a sweet old lady voice, causing an uproar from the men, including her Dad.

“Back then man I was down about my great grandmom so I gave her that name.”

“When was your Great Grandmom born?” Erik asked.

“1901.”

“And when was Lah Lah born?”

“1989.”

“So why in the HELL...you know what.” Her Dads friend waved him away.

———————————————————————-

“Here, I got you a drink.”

Lah Lah reaches out to grab the cup only to find prune juice inside.

“Erik...What the FUCK is this?!”

“Prune Juice, itll help with your chronic constipation.”

Lah Lah just about had it. She kept from Erik because of this and now he wouldn’t stop. She needed to change her name quick and fast.

“Nigga I sware on my life-“

“Don’t say shit like that Beulah baby! You only 80.”

She tossed the cup in the trash angrily.

The one thing he did that had her ready to leave caused some people to laugh.

Erik made her a plate, bringing it outside to one of the picnic tables. She reached out for it but instead Erik sat it down with his, taking a knife and fork to cut it up.

“Since you so damn cripple I gotta chop this meat up for you.” He hummed to himself, cutting her grilled chicken and steak so fine it looked like already chewed food.

“Keep it up, and I’m chopping the meat between your legs with a butcher knife.”

This man even tried to spoon feed her. She didn’t even bother eating, instead grabbing her things, saying her last goodbyes, and leaving.

Home Lah Lah didn’t speak to Erik and she practically ignored him like he wasn’t there. Eventually sleep overtook him and he was a snoring mess. She had enough of his snoring in her ear, taking her foot and kicking him off the bed rough. He landed in a loud thump that caused her to chuckle to herself.

After about a day of no torture from Erik, Lah Lah-Beulah

Started believing Erik was done with his antics. She had plans to get her name permanently changed to Lah Lah or some other shit. Erik could be heard coming home, Lah Lah in the kitchen cooking chili.

“Hey Lah! I got a gift for you c’mere.”

She put the chili on simmer, finally walking into the living room to greet her man.

“Hey how was work?”

“It was good as always.” Erik pulls out a gift bag for her, a handsome smile on his face.

“Here you go baby.”

Lah Lah was beyond happy, she always loved gifts from him. She made herself comfortable on the couch, removing the gift wrap before staring down at a folded piece of fabric with an ugly floral design.

“Erik…”

She pulled out the fabric, letting it fall open to reveal a dress that looked like it belonged in the 1940s to some old as cat lady. It was dingy as well, and it smelled like cat piss.

“I figured you would love it. It suits you fine Beulah.”

She truly believed that this man was through.

“STILL ON THAT SAME SHIT HUH?!”

Erik pointed to the bag.

“One more gift left, and you better open it Miss Jenkins.”

Lah Lah angrily pulls a small box out the bag that had a gold ribbon. A sudden hope for something perfect came to her but that all came crashing down like a thunderstorm. She was staring down at a life alert necklace.

Lah Lah had this blank expression on her face, eyes never leaving that box. Erik could not control his laughter once she pulled the top off, he was on the floor now clutching his stomach.

“You May need to wear that when we fucking cuz I don’t need your ass to have a heart attack.”

Lah Lah through the box at him, groaning.

“ITS OVER E! The jokes over it’s dead now.”

“Not when you kick me off the bed it isn’t. You try that shit again and I’m calling you Beulah from here on out and I don’t give a fuck who hear!”

She side eyed him before lifting from the couch. She was about done with him dragging this shit out.

“If my name is such a damn problem then bounce nigga!” Erik rolled his eyes, lifting from the floor to follow her.

“You can’t take a joke?! I’m only messing with yo uptight ass.”

“You hate my name admit it!” She was being a cry baby now, folding her arms and pouting.

Erik walks up to her, rubbing her arms soothingly.

“Baby no, Beulah is a beautiful name.” She met his eyes, disbelief in them.

“Okay okay its a little cringe.”

She glared.

“A smidge more cringe..” she shoved him.

“BUT I love you. And I will always love you. It was a good laugh and I’m sorry if I offended you aight?”

He pinked her cheek, causing her too look away.

“Aye, cut that shit out Lah.” Erik pulls out another box, Lah Lah staring at it with caution.

“What’s this? A pace maker?!” She didn’t trust it.

“I promise I’m done.”

Lah Lah grabbed the box, taking off the lid to find pink diamond earrings. She shakes her head, a small smile creeping up before giggling to herself.

“Wow...they are actually beautiful asshole.”

She looked up at him and his goofy grin, the laughter uncontrollable now.

“Now cut that shit out and give daddy a kiss.”

She leans up on her tip toes, kissing him softly.

“You still don’t want the life alert though? You may need it in a minute miss Beulah.”

She couldn’t even argue with him, motioning for him to get the box with the life alert so she could wear it.

Erik was amused by this, watching her put it around her neck.

“I want my back blown out, and DONT give me a hump back.”

They both laughed in unison.

@panthergoddessbast @whoramilaje @allhailnjadaka @hearteyes-for-killmonger @vikkidc @ange-sensuel @thehomierobbstark @blackpantherismyish @eriknutinthispoosy @trevantesbrat

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iamrheaspeaks · 5 years

Text

per·i·pe·tei·a 2

Erik x OC! (Morrigan)

Word Count: 1.9k

Bold text: Erik

Regular text: Morrigan

Warnings: None

A/N: Idk why my crazy self just had to include DTG knowing I hate it but here’s a reminder DDHHMM(Z)MON meaning (day, 24 time, local, month). Here’s Part 1 if you need a refresher. As always lightly proofread/ edited 💋

The Beginning:

150847UMAR

Target: Morrigan James

28yo 61.23kg

Identifiable Marks:

•Raised lateral scar/ left shoulder above armpit

•Roman soldier’s uniform shoulder pad tattoo/ left shoulder cap

•Emperor’s Crown tattoo/ behind right ear

•Tiny cat silhouette tattoo/ inner right wrist

Occupation: Case Manager/ Human Services

Mission: Deep Cover Surveillance

Morrigan flies out of her apartment to a used Mitsubishi Galant. It’s black on black minus the silver tire rims and front grill. She’s supposed to report to work at 0930. Morrigan stops at the coffee shop five blocks up the road while I hang back outside. The windows of the coffee shop are large enough for me to see everything from inside the Standard Issue Saab Truck they gave me. When she finally emerges Morrigan is balancing 6 cups of coffee and large brown paper bag. After finally maneuvering everything into the car she finishes her trek to work. She’s definitely something.

March 15 9:35am

Target: Erik Stevens/ N’Jadaka Udaku

30yo 225lbs

Identifiable Marks:

Keloid scars/ Range unknown

Occupation: Special Ops / Deep Cover

Erik arrived in town late last night. Judging by the looks of it he’d spent most of the night staking out my apartment instead of sleeping. A man determined. Something told me when his file hit my desk that Laila wouldn’t be the right one for the job. She is lethal and a hard-ass however, Laila can’t control her switches when angry or cornered. She’d blow the mission in an instant and this has to be long term. Erik won’t open up if the trust isn’t there. Plus, judging by the way Laila keeps staring out the window I made the right decision sending him after me instead. It’s 9:45am when Erik finally pulls off down the street, no doubt headed to his cover job. ‘Have a good first day Professor Stevens.’

151936UMAR

Morrigan and two female coworkers are having drinks at a Mediterranean Wine Bar named Porto. It houses a lot of culture-based décor. Antique knick-knacks and brightly colored, hand-painted tiles could be seen all around. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself it took awhile to scope out a good seat. The bartender serving the back of the house must’ve been new. She kept over pouring portions and confusing drinks. If it wasn’t for her being so personable I doubt anyone would come back to Taylor. I could see all the exits and most of the patrons from where I sat. Morrigan seems normal. Most of my surveillance of her so far just yielded information I already knew. Basic job, raised in a two-parent household, doesn’t appear to be living above her means. Definitely not a threat. ‘Why are you so important?’

March 15 7:40pm

Laila, Claire and I try not to let on that we see Erik keeping a watchful eye from across the bar. We discuss where best to take the residents on their day out after the weekly house meeting. Like most teens they liked the mall except Landon, he hated everything about the place and would often decline going all together. Which left one of us stuck at the residence with him watching the same bad comedy movies till our ears bled from the sound of his shrill laughter. Lately I didn’t mind because it gave me time to brush up on Erik before his arrival but one could only take so much.

Present:

071725UJUN | June 7 5:25pm

“I don’t know what you think you know bu–”

“Erik Stevens. Born in the ghettos of Oakland, CA. Mother died in prison and father murdered.” She paused noticing Erik’s demeanor shift slightly. If she didn’t have his attention before Morrigan certainly had it now. “Got bounced around after that but, for the most part stayed on the straight and narrow. Immediately shipping off to Basic Training in the Navy and later graduated M.I.T. with a PhD in Engineering. Am I right so far?

“All common knowledge baby girl.”

“You’re right, allow me to share with you what else I know. And I knew before I found your box. Good hiding place by the way.” Morrigan giggled at the last part. It may have been underneath the floorboards but the box was literally in plain sight. Undetected until just the right moment. “You’re the lost Prince of Wakanda. N’Jadaka Udaku. The abandoned child that wants to burn the village to feel its warmth.”

Erik’s jaw and fists tighten. It’s one thing to relinquish control, it’s another entirely to question if it was ever his to give. “But you forget, I know who you are too.”

“That’s where you’re wrong my love. You know what I needed you to know, let me properly introduce myself. Morrigan Ebert. Born in the small town of Cromwell, CT. I was raised by The Major, the only thing I know about my real parents is they died in a car wreck.”

“The Major? Nabs kids and turns em into Sleeper Soldiers right? What does The Major want with me?”

“Sleeper Soldier? That’s a first” Morrigan scoffed. “And nothing, he’s merely apart of my backstory.”

“You really tryin my patience.”

“Stop interrupting me and maybe you’d learn something!” Morrigan could tell Erik was surprised by her tone. Never having had that voice of authority used on him by her. “I thought this would be more fun but now I’m kinda bored. Look. Everything I told you is true. But maybe you’ll be more willing to believe it if I tell you my other name. The Djinn.”

Erik shifted in his seat after that. Either this chick was fucking crazy or she was who she said, which would mean that he’s been the one at a disadvantage. Erik was more comfortable believing the first one. He knew Morrigan. She’d look for her phone while she was talking on it. Climbed on the fucking counter tops to get shit from the top shelf. Morrigan coddles adult children for work. There’s no way this is the person he’d been secretly searching for. The person that could get Erik that much closer to his goal. How could he be sleeping with the likes of one of the most sought after, dark wish granters and not know it?! He sat in silence and waited for Morrigan to continue her monologue.

“Before you, the only person to know my identity as the Djinn was The Major. I don’t actually meet the people whose wishes I grant. It’s best if people don’t know who I am. But I knew as much as they fiend for the opportunity, none of my charges would truly be up to that task that was Erik Stevens. And I was right. That flash drive–” pausing to point at the piece of metal and plastic still plotted in the crevice of his jeans “holds all the details of your revenge. Your fantasy. And as much as I would love to help you overthrow the Wakandan government I don’t believe that’s what you deeply desire.”

“You really expect me to believe that shit? ANY of that shit? After you JUST told me you one of the kids Major made? That you had me from jump? Nah! Now I know you reaching. You don’t know shit about what I want!”

“First of all, I have no doubt that revenge is what you want. What I said was it’s not what you deeply desire. Those are the types of fantasies that I grant. Your confidence in the old ‘too good to be true’ mentality is what makes you a victim of it. Everything I just told you made me The Djinn. What better person than someone who was raised to be anyone and blend in everywhere? Or do you feel that because you know The Djinn’s track record that it couldn’t possibly have been orchestrated by the frail woman that curls up to your side in bed at night? Like I said before. Everyone has their weaknesses.”

Morrigan allowed Erik to sit there with his thoughts for a moment. She was analytical. And calculated in a completely different way than him. It wasn’t enough to know what a person’s next move was. Morrigan wanted to know why they did it. The root cause behind it. And if that was the case then what the hell had she gathered about him? If revenge wasn’t what Erik deeply desired then what was?

“I really can’t see ya little ass doing shit I’ve heard about the Djinn but putting that aside for a moment” sitting up placing elbows on knees he looked at Morrigan with piercing eyes, “Tell me. What is it that I deeply desire?”

Morrigan licked at her bottom lip while holding Erik’s gaze. “You want the same thing as every other black boy from the hood Erik. A way up and out of the pit. Just on grandeur scale because you know you were made to be more. However death and destruction has taken you as far as it can with that task. You just don’t see it yet. If you really want to expose the truth and prove your birthright you need to try a different approach. That is a wish I’d grant.”

“Mmhmm. So what you get out of this?”

“You in my bed of course. Although. I’d understand if you wanna sleep down here tonight.”

“No grand fantasy of your own you chasing after, Djinn?”

“I was the Djinn before you got your famous moniker. You don’t think the first wish I granted was my own?” Morrigan challenged with quirked eyebrow. “Despite what I said to you the first night I invited you in, I fell long before you showed up with that brooding face of yours.”

~ ~ ~

Morrigan was staring down into the most captivating pools of chocolate brown as they stared back up at her while she balanced on one foot. She wore a smile on her face thanks to the victory of taming the beast in her bedroom. Even if it were only for a moment. Morrigan ran her hand down her frame before breaking away at the hip of the leg that rested on his shoulder. Using her thumb to stroke his jawline tenderly before gripping Erik’s chin. Slowly rubbing her index finger over his Adam’s apple coaxing a groan of appreciation out of him as his nails dug into her thighs at the scent of her essence getting stronger.

~ ~ ~

“I would fall from grace just to touch your face.” Erik hummed silently under his breathe in time with the memory of that night. “Convince me. Prove to me that you’re the Djinn.”

“Alexis. Your Teacher’s Assistant. She’s one of mine.”

“The girl that damn near took me down running out my office when I shut the light off on her?”

“Her mom used to lock her in the closet for extended amounts of time to keep her from tainting her brother’s innocence. The older her brother got, the more intense her punishment.”

“Wait? The Closet Slaughter. That was you?! The Djinn isn’t even credited for that.”

“Yes, that was me. And it wasn’t done for credit.”

“I see...Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.”

Morrigan couldn’t help but chuckle before correcting, “Actually Erik, in Corinthians, the devil wasn’t transformed into an angel of light. He was disguised as one. But thanks for the compliment.”

“Well as helpful as this encounter has been I’m still seeking vengeance baby girl.”

“Then leave. Find someone who has no problem serving up the vengeance and death you seek. Wishes are for the living.”

Tags: @savagesensitivity @cancerianprincess @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat @muse-of-mbaku @chaneajoyyy @itsangeludaku @eriknutinthispoosy @im5ftbutmythroat66 @theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22 @fonville-designs @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @dabluestsky

#rheaspeaks #my work #my words #my writing #peripeteia #part 2 #erik x black oc #erik x morrigan #rheaspeaks masterlist

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briightsides-blog · 5 years

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CHARACTER SHEET

repost. do not reblog.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. jan is the name they give if you ask, erik plambeck is the name they prefer. NICKNAME. erik, jan. GENDER. nonbinary. HEIGHT. 4′11″. AGE. very old. ZODIAC. claims its taurus. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. they possess the power of allspeak.

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. light blonde. EYE COLOR. blue. SKIN. pale and smooth, with rosy cheeks.

BODY TYPE. small, petite, thin.

DOMINANT HAND. ambidextrous. POSTURE/BODY LANGUAGE. erik holds themselves very upright due to their stature--chin up, shoulders back. SCARS. thick burnlike scars that circle their wrists, four parallel burnlike scars on their back. TATTOOS. red roses tattooed on their neck that bloom against their skin in the summer months and “wilt” in the winter months. their back, shoulders, and arms are covered in protective runes.

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). their height, their startling blue eyes.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. the seelie court. HOMETOWN. they say its hannover. SIBLINGS. the rest of the seelie faerie. PARENTS. aside from monarchs, the faerie don’t have parents.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. prior to being banished, erik was tasked with retrieving changeling children from teh surface and bringing them back to the seelie. they run “errands” for deveraux because they don’t have as much of a moral compass as deveraux does. CURRENT RESIDENCE. new orleans. CLOSE FRIENDS. they would consider deveraux, mia, and aurora close friends, though from others point of view, they are clearly closer to blair and luz. erik has a warped sense of “friends.” RELATIONSHIP STATUS. erik’s got a cute witchy girlfriend. FINANCIAL STATUS. the nether creatures both do and don’t use the same currency as humans. they just kind of have money ( through magical means, obviously ). erik sits pretty in their boujie apartment in new orleans with all their boho chic clothing. DRIVER’S LICENSE. nope. erik doesn’t drive. CRIMINAL RECORD. they were banished from the seelie for failing to bring a changeling child back. VICES. sex, mostly. erik can more or less feel the effect of drugs and alcohol, but they don’t feel the effects enough to engage in using drugs and alcohol.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. pansexual. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch | top | bottom | vers. LIBIDO. it’s on the higher side. erik very much enjoys sex. since being with sheri, they’ve toned it down a lot, but when they were single, they would have a lot more sex. TURN ON’S. scratching, biting, hair pulling, praise, orgasm denial, ya know. TURN OFF’S. idk. don’t be gross. LOVE LANGUAGE. erik has...a very strange notion of “love language.” They don’t really know what they like, because there’s only been one person who they actually want around for something other than sex. they’d say quality time and words of affirmation, maybe. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. considering erik has been around for god knows how long and has only had one serious partner in their lifetime, it’s safe to assume that erik is terrible with relationships. they used a lot of people for sex in the past, and then dipped before the other could wake up. they’ve remained loyal to sheri, but before her, erik didn’t have a sense of loyalty to someone.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. sweet blossom by emilie simon. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. reading, writing, gardening, drinking tea, caring for animals, exploring NOLA, doing everything in their power to pester everyone they know. MENTAL ILLNESSES. erik is almost certainly diagnosable, but they aren’t diagnosed with anything. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. none, aside from their “iron allergy.” LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. right-brained. PHOBIAS. none. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. very high. it’s to a fault. VULNERABILITIES. erik doesn’t like to admit it, but they often let their emotions get the best of them. they’re flaky and flighty. they’re very aggressive and impulsive. sheri is definitely a vulnerability to them--if someone came for her, they would be able to grab erik.

TAGGED BY: no one, binch !!

TAGGING: you there.

#erik?? the worst?? 100%#✧*:・ﾟABOUT!#long post //

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ramenfallsbutnotudon · 6 years

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Twirling Around Earth’s Minerals – a (short) Erik Killmonger Fanfic

Twirling Around Earth’s Minerals – a (short) Erik Killmonger Fanfic (w/ some slightly added smut lol)

Word Count: About 2,300 words.

TW: Slight inclinations of co-dependency, murder/killing trigger, mind games, mental illness and depression. Sexual undertones. Not outright smut…

Possibly one shot? Idk lol

Synopsis: It’d been a few days since you (the reader) and Erik had really spoken. You hadn’t been fighting, but you hadn’t been really ‘connected’ either. There’s a lot of unsaid words hanging in the air, and a bit of sexual tension. You decide to break the tension by talking about rocks and Earth’s Minerals. Yes…that’s right. Minerals found deep within the Earth’s surface. And your feelings about Erik…

I seen a post here a while ago on Tumblr about a writing prompt generator. One of them was “Your character is prone to hair-twiddling when bored.” I meant to write a descriptive exercise with Erik twirling his hair but it turned into some philosophical bullshit and an (attempt) at exploring his psyche and whoever chooses to be in a relationship with him. I shouldn’t even post this. This is in the same universe as my [other fic]. So basically following the canon BP storyline this is a few months (or maybe more) before he goes to London.

If anyone wants to send me writing prompts, please do. I don’t think I can do T’Challa (I can’t relate to him/kind of dislike his character), but I can definitely do Erik and/or M’Baku. If the character is complicated & “messy”, it is a go…

-Ramenfallsbutnotudon

(Writing music this time was just “Focus” by H.E.R. on repeat. Then “Hallucinations” by dvsn towards the end. Hence the slight sexual undertones…)

I don’t know why he does that…

Erik was sitting across from you beneath a window, the light catching in his hair. A deep reddish tint cast his dreads with light golden undertones. His baby hairs were unkempt and his hair was due to be re twisted soon. Erik sat listless; twiddling his locs absentmindedly – deep in thought about something that seemed far off. He was here physically, but his presence was nowhere to be found. It’s strange, isn’t it? How a living breathing human being could be less than a yard away from you, but you suddenly feel all alone.

He’d been moody all morning. He was always moody. Or maybe you had just been too cheerful these days. You liked looking at the way the light reflected off of his skin. It was a beautiful chestnut brown color when the sun shone on it. The shadows cast mahogany undertones. Or maybe Sienna would be a better way to describe it. He reminds me of minerals deep in the earth. Hard to find, but precious and valuable once they come to light. But the earth buried so many secrets. So many things that could take ions and innumerable centuries to recover. Darkness breeds secrets and harbors things only those in those circumstances would understand. That is Erik. That is how he is when he is like this. I don’t know if I am the crane pulling him from the dark place, or another lost gem hidden amongst the dirt. Something that was here all along but is treated as foreign and alien – yet prized for its beauty and uniqueness.

Erik was sprawled out sideways in a purple armchair. His legs dangled and danced over an arm rest anxiously. You thought the armchair was kind of gaudy but he said he was “feeling it” when he seen it online. It had a very wide back and looked like some shit you’d see out of The Jetsons.

Some futuristic shit.

On the flip side, maybe it looked a bit like the wicker chair from that iconic Huey P. Newton photograph that hung in Erik’s room for years. Erik had always been into photography and all that other artistic shit. He loved going to indie photo exhibitions wearing glasses with a coffee in his hand. He always choose a different small Black-Owned business to support each time. Of course though, he didn’t always return. Sometimes the coffee was just that shitty despite his need to support it. You tried them along with him. However, your tastes sometimes didn’t match. He liked bitter coffee with a tiny drop of sugar and hardly any milk or cream. You liked too much milk and cream and even sugar. Sometimes it was just like that, loving someone who purposefully drank bitter things. Someone who didn’t want sweet things all the time because he knew that life wasn’t always sweet.

You stand up and slowly saunter over to him. Not in a provocative way, but in an airy almost dreamlike state. You didn’t know why, but you always felt a bit nervous around him. He didn’t scare you or intimidate you. You knew he’d never harm you…he was just too damn unpredictable. Not in an “I-am-walking-on-eggshells-because-my-partner-is-a-loose-cannon” type of way, but an “I-want-him-to-open-up-to-me/don’t-spook-the-deer” type of way. Is that even a thing, “don’t spook the deer”? I don’t think people would even think he was a deer. They’d think he was the jaguar. After all, he does have golden fangs.

But it’s true – he is a bit of both. But how can one be the predator and prey? Can a person be two people at the same time – two shifting dynamics melding into one?

Maybe it is the issue of the outward appearance vs the inward self. Erik has this bravado about him – like he’s Robin Hood or the Hood’s Daddy or some shit but other times he just seems scared. Unsure of himself and his actions. I don’t even think he notices that sometimes when he’s trying to be guarded – he’s completely transparent.

You lower your body down and rest its weight on your hind legs. Crouching in front of Erik’s body you tenderly caress his leg.

“Erik?”

He shuddered before turning his head to acknowledge you. In one swoop he lifted both of his legs and rested them between your frame. His boots made a light thud as his feet touched the wooden floor.

You look up at him and slide to your knees. You felt like his eyes were looking right through you. They were dark, like newly formed chunks of obsidian after a volcanic eruption. His eyelids seemed heavy, like he’d been up all night. Thinking back, you weren’t even sure if he slept fully the entire night or just lay silently next to you so you wouldn’t worry. There were so many little things you seemed to miss about him, and others were as apparent as the day was long. But then again, even the days take a break in winter and let the darkness yield over. Erik seemed like winter and fall and you felt like the spring. You met in summer and since you were spring you could handle the temperatures of fall. But not winter. It was a bit too cold and dark for you but he seemed to thrive in it. He pursed his lips before letting a smile break over his face.

“Hey, Princess” he said in a husky voice.

“Princess? When did I get that upgrade?”

His smiled seemed to fade a bit. You only meant to tease him.

“It’s always been yours. Just because I never said it, doesn’t mean I never thought it.”

You rose to your feet and looked down at him. He followed your body up and gazed wistfully at your stature now towering over him. His eyes then traveled down past your breast and to your navel. He leaned in and let his forehead rest on your womb.

“Hey…” you started, unsure of how to start the conversation you’d been having in your head for the last half hour.

“Hmm?”

You felt the vibrations of his voice mix with the rhythms of your body. Your heart beat. You felt your palms start to get clammy.

On a seemingly queue, Erik reached for your hands and encircled his arms around your hips.

“I’m-I’m sweaty”

“I don’t care” his muffled voice indicated coolly.

You felt the weight of his head and the warmth of his body. It felt nice. Just standing here, in this moment. You looked around his apartment. The living room was a bit bare, but there was an abundance of natural light. You watched dust particles lightly dance in a breeze coming in from an open window. He didn’t seem to enjoy being alone at home much. He mainly stayed at your place often…that is when he wasn’t out of the country or “on a mission”.

Your head started to throb at that word. Mission. You hated when he left. But you understood that he needed to find closure, even if his way meant sometimes killing people.

Erik kills people, but I still love him. What type of person does that make me?

You hold onto his arms. The grip in his biceps are tense.

Does he expect me to let go?

You decide to move closer, your heart beating out of your chest. You slide down onto his lap and position yourself in the sideways manor he was initially sitting. He exhales deeply and shifts himself in the chair. You feel a growing bulge between his legs. You angle your bottom over it sideways and smile at him. He beams back at you before attempting to kiss you. You turn away and let his lips brush against your cheek instead. A confused look passes his face for an instant before he sags his shoulders and reclines back in the chair.

You instantly feel bad.

Back to square one now.

You shift in the chair again and you see him close his eyes. He inhales deeply; you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You teasing me today, huh?” he says in a gruff voice.

He sounded frustrated, but you didn’t feel like it was about that.

“No” you chime innocently, reaching a hand over his face to stroke his bristly beard. He needed a shave as well, he’d been in a mood the past three days and hadn’t really done much. Then again, you were on a five day old wash n go so you couldn’t really fault him there. Maybe both of you were in your feelings, and not talking about it had made things worse.

But despite the tension hanging in the air, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It just felt like you were vibing on each other’s energy, waiting for the other to make the first move; Afraid of saying the wrong thing and creating an environment that takes a turn for the worst.

He closed his eyes and you reached your face down to his lips. His breathing stopped in anticipation for a kiss. You licked his lips like a cat and his eyes flung open before smiling.

“What was that?” he asked, now starting to giggle. His eyes lit up with a brightness that reminded you of metallic stones.

You put up a hand and curl it into a paw.

“Meow” you say while patting the paw across his chest.

Your eyes meet and you both burst into laughter. He wraps his arms around you and you kiss his forehead. He then leans up to kiss yours.

Maybe now.

“If we were stones, what type do you think we’d be?”

He holds your gaze for longer than usual, still smiling.

“Babe, sometimes you have some weird shit on your mind” he said before laughing again.

“Here I thought you were mad at me for some shit I couldn’t think of-“

“-I thought you were mad at me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He swallowed hard before trying to make himself smile again. He thought you didn’t notice, but you did. You pull away from him and he stiffens up. He readjusts himself to sit up straight, the swell in his pants semi-stiff.

“Erik” your voice begins to crack “what is going on with you lately?”

Erik looks away from you and over his right shoulder. He licks his lips. You felt him grow hard beneath you. You raised your eyebrow.

“So you noticed….I guess I have been acting out of pocket, huh?” he said in a clearly forced calm voice.

I guess he thought that was convincing. His breathing is uneven. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.

He lifted his shirt up over his head and took it off. There were shadows cast on his scars. You also noticed that there was a fresh black and blue mark on his shoulder blade.

“Erik…when did…” you tried to begin but were at a loss for words. He always at least hinted at when something like this happened. You had no idea. Had he hid it from you? Were you not paying attention?

“It’s two, actually…” he let his voice trail off after looking at your horrified face.

His eyes looked distant. He lowered them and nodded his head as he looked at something far away on the floor. His brows were scrunched together. His nostrils were flared. You could feel his heart beating in his chest. Fluttering, like butterfly wings.

You breathe in.

“…you…” you look into his eyes and he looks away. You grab his face. “When-?” your voice sounded breathless.

“A few days ago” he affirmed nonchalantly. Erik began to pick at the lining in the chair.

How could he be so callous about this?

You wanted to ask details but decided that maybe you didn’t want to know. You lay your head back on his shoulder and kiss his neck. He wasn’t hard anymore. You were happy about that.

He didn’t disgust you, you just didn’t understand him sometimes. Or understand the secrets he harbored deep within himself. You weren’t afraid of his truths, but rather his lies. Lies were capable of doing more harm than any truth could. At least that had always been your experience.

He closed his eyes and let you kiss his neck. You started to use your tongue, leaving wet marks across his skin. He shifted in the chair and let out a stifled moan. You moved up to his collar bone and left marks with your teeth. He wraps his hands around your body and picks you up to push you against the nearest wall. You both smile and you laugh as he goes up your neck with his lips. They feel soft and springy across your body. Like they are soaking up any doubts you held deep in your heart. You looked at him and caught his eye before closing yours again. He seemed troubled. The image burned in your mind as he slid off your clothes while cradling you in his arms. You tried undoing his clothing. He slammed you back into the wall hard and broke off a kiss to ask if you were alright. You held his face and nodded yes. Slowly, he slipped inside of you.

Obsidian and Praseodymium. That’s what we’d be. One was born from volcanic eruptions, the other a rare mineral found in the Earth’s crust. One is used to make tools for cutting but is brittle. The other is only completely stable in water. It has to be submerged to survive. Maybe that’s why I like him so much. He was born in waters only I can thrive in.

Obsidian and Praseodymium.

A/N: About the slight co-dependency…I was trying to target emotionally destructive behavior. I added this in because I think Killmonger would definitely exhibit some of this in his personality. Like yeah he’s confident and swaggering and sexy but he wouldn’t be like that 24/7 – or when he was alone with his thoughts. Also…I don’t know him personally or whatever – but it seems like MBJ might have a bit of this in his personality as well. I basically searched through his entire Instagram because I had an idea for another fic, and some of his posts seem kind of…lonely? Especially that “lost files” shit from 2016 and then posts after Black Panther he seems like a totally different dude. No more videos, cutesy photos, photos with actual friends…Which is understandable but at the same time it’s kind of like…dude what happened? It’s a visible shift. Then the whole lowkey thottie thing and Saweetie’s song 23 that talks about how he was really hung up on their last conversation then fucked her brains out in broad daylight…speeding down the highway high and she said they could have fucking died…I mean again I will probably never meet that man but if he hides his personal life and shit like this can be interpreted by the low-key actions we do hear about him? Unless I’m just projecting Lol, I fucking could be…

Really been in my feelings lately and it won’t go away, so I may as well milk it until I return back to “normal”. I’m also trying to decide on the journey to the ending for the last smut piece I wanna write that has now turned from a one-shot to a trilogy in my head lmao.

I also referenced photos of him as killmonger and one photo with that coon Donald Glover at the Met GALA on his Instagram for tone descriptions. That one has some weird lighting but it’s in line with what I was imagining lol. I wish I was better at describing skin tones, or more confident with it I should say.

#erik killmonger #erik killmonger fic #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fic #killmonger smut #erik killmonger smut #black panther #black panther fanfiction #erik stevens #bp fanfic #please know i cannot write happy stories if my life depended on it #so everything comes out grey and bittersweet #sorry #i guess #lol #if you think this has a happy ending then you haven't been paying attention quote lol #seriously though does anyone else feel that way about mbj?#*aaliyah voice* let me know

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