Heyyyyy!!!! I started!! I had to find it lol I’ll write the smut and do the full post this week!
Request: Lol you write amazing smut , So tell me If this is too far . Picture it , lol Erik and 2 chicks looking to get into something freaky. The piece de resistance ? A scene where he cums in one and the other girl licks it out of her . Write the scenario and plot anyway you want lol surprise me !
The rain outside had her trapped, usually I would weather it out make a run to a store but when the trash can went floating down the road it was a wrap. I watched from the apartment window with an open mind of thoughts and the first one was why he acting like I am not mad at him?
Erik knew that I was mad. I didn’t have to explain it to him. His insecurities were starting to take their toll on me. “How long are you gonna act like you mad at me?” Erik walked from the kitchen holding food, just for one. It was how he acted when he was mad. He sat on the chaise of the mocha sectional. His feet extended with the plate in his lap. The food smelled like heaven, especially because it was my favorite meal. The tacos were lined up perfectly. But I be damned if I asked for one or even acted like I was okay with him. I had a point to prove.
I moved from the window flicking him a bird before turning into the kitchen. Fuck him.
The patter of the rain reminded me of when we had first started. Days like this I was the little spoon, wrapped in his arms listening to him sing to me or tell me about his old school days. Everything was fresh. Every thing was unblemished and the water of our faults were had not yet tainted what we had. That was then and this was now, and the now was shit.
I whip up ramen. My go to meal for I’m broke, too tired or nostalgia of my college dreams. I know hew heard the microwave. I knew him well enough that he would still be mad I ate something he didn’t cook. But whatever, food was food and I wasn’t about to talk to chipotle.
“It’s food for you in the stove.” He said with his lips in a tight line. His eyebrows were raised as if he was judging me, which he was but once again, what the fuck ever. I grabbed the hot bowl of noodles and walked from the kitchen leaving him to his lonesome. I wasn’t folding. I refused to fold.
I headed to the bedroom locking the door behind me. I had shows to catch up on and met importantly I wasn’t about to give in to him. One second we mad in bed, the next I’m shaking and screaming his name. Not to-fucking-night. The hours pass quickly. I eat, shower and wrap my hair up before realizing my damn phone was in the living room. Operation “Stay the fuck away from Erik” was in danger. I open the door listening to the tv play. Hopefully he was sleep. But I notice quickly he isn’t and the phone is the last place I wanted it to be, lighting up his face while his nosey ass dissects it like it is.
“Give me my phone.”
“So you can text Danni back?” The attitude attached to his voice gave clear warning we were about to fight.
“Danni is a girl you ass.” I snatch the phone away from him and he stands. His face softer than I expected. “What?”
“You texting that shit too Danni?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Leave me alone, go back to your business.”
“You wanna do that shit? Or you just playing?”
“Why are you so nosey?”
“I’m down for a threesome. You never asked. You always say shit is the same, then change it. Call her and tell her to come over.”
“I sure the fuck will not.” I rolled my eyes. The thing about me was that I was “bi-curious.” Women always gained my attention, especially curvy ones, chicks who reminded me that beauty came in every form. Danni was the neighbor, and now she was a coworker. I couldn’t dabble with her. I would be fucked coming home and at work, and I don’t mean the freaky kind. “You’re such a fucking guy you know that. Let it had been a Matthew I was texting and you would have thrown my ass over the balcony.”
“But it wasn’t so why you sitting up here mad?” Erik folded his arms across his chest. The habit of him sitting with no shirt on had been a good one for me because his body was a damn masterpiece. “Aight look, I ain’t tryna fight call her up.”
“Fuck you Erik.”
“I’m trying to get you too. Two women is not a bad thing. You’ll be the main person being worshipped. She like you. Tell her to come on.”
“Goodnight.” And with that I end the conversation. My head shakes and all I can fucking think is, this dude will fucking do anything to get another chick in bed. Four years of the fuckery and he still finding a new way to be an ass.
Books lay scattered across a worn wooden table where a group of children sat discussing the day’s happenings at school. Across the room, a set of younger children stared at the adult in the center of their reading circle in awe as she read from the pages of Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry.
Every day, the first floor of the Smith-Barnes Library became the hub for an inner city after school program. On the surface, the program was meant to assist below level youths in their educational pursuits. High school students received standardized test prep and tutoring while elementary through middle school pupils were given a space to complete homework and work on necessary skills. In reality, it was a safe space for the community’s children to avoid the perils of their neighborhoods. Many of the children had long made progress but continued to come for the protection and the program’s director, Ms. Kira.
As part of @brianabreeze 4k FanFic Fest here’s a little something I cooked up.
Part 1 of 1: The Waters
Pairing: T’Challa x OC
Length: 2.3k + words
Prompt: “You thought this was real?”
T’Challa Udaku’s soul was nothing short of flawless.
The very first second he shifted in his mother’s womb, it seemed Ramonda radiated all things good and all things pure.
The very first moment the boy took his first steps, it seemed as though there had been a shift in the collective consciousness of the Wakandan people. A feeling that maybe, just maybe, this child could bring to their country a glory that only resided in their deepest and lightest dreams.
T’Challa Udaku’s soul was nothing short of beautiful.
No blemish could be found within him as the young boy exuded love only to receive it ten-fold. He was well-intentioned, patient, empathetic and most importantly, he was kind.
Therefore, it took its time, creeping onto him quietly, unnoticed by all around him and all things within him until he found himself falling into unforgiving waters. It pulled him into the deep leaving him there with no mercy and holding onto him with such fierce passion that he let go before even bothering to fight it.
AN: Hi everyone. So I’ve finally written another part for Big Move. I proofread for the most part. I am already writing the next part of this, so hopefully, the wait won’t be as long. Thank you for still fucking with this story. Uhh, this story is kinda just a filler.
— Enjoy, Marley
Warnings: a few curse words here and there.
It was early morning and Parish was a nervous wreck. Today was the day. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. She had the job already, this was an opportunity for her to go in and see where and with who she would be working. Still, anxiety pumped thru her views. Did she deserve this opportunity? She thought to herself.
If one were a historian, they would replace the phrase with the notion that history repeats itself. For years, Malik felt as if he were doomed to continue the cycle of broken homes, never to reunite with his father before his time on Earth came to an unfortunate end. He felt doomed to possibly create a life that he could not stay and provide for, despite his most valiant efforts. He felt doomed to watch his friends die in droves by the hand of a man or woman that held the same brown and golden hues that they did.
Fortunately for him, cycles can be broken. In one letter, a simple piece of parchment with life-altering words, the cycle was shattered and destined to be no more. He would be able to go home, to know his father, and fill the insufferable hole that such an absence could create. This was the case for Malik.
A/N: What better way to celebrate my birthday that to drop my part of this phenomenal story. I apologize for the wait. I wanted this to match the level of the previous contributors. My good sis, @muse-of-mbaku is up next and I can not wait! I hope you enjoy!
“It is as if she is upset with me over issues that I can not control. I…I am not sure what I did wrong.”
T’Challa’s shoulders dropped at the release of all the trip’s tension and the realization that this ‘vacation’ may have done more harm than good. M’Baku and Erik were having a blast, breaking through relationship and emotional barriers, while he was still at odds with his sister and dealing with the distance of the woman he loved. Not to mention the mounting evidence that his father was not the man he dreamt him to be.
While this type of emotional labor should have been shared with the woman in question, the young King found solace in an unlikely listener. The songstress with the voice of one thousand mythical sirens sat nearby, digesting his pained admissions and inner most thoughts to offer the best advice.
Max used her fire red nails to scratch the center of T’Challa’s broad back, soothing him the way her grandmother used to do her in North Carolina. The breeze of the ocean made the warmth of her body pressing against his sturdy arm a welcomed sensation. She wasn’t one to parlay with strangers, especially not men, but this one felt…different.
“Her problem isn’t with you, per se. She has another man in her life.”
T’Challa’s head shot up at the unsettling notion, “No, no. I think you are mistaken, Max. Nakia would never break our union in that manner. She is loyal to her K-er, me.”
“I’m just sayin’, you should ask her. Loyalty to you as a friend doesn’t mean that she hasn’t found the attention of another man. Distance doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder.” The sad drop in her voice indicated a painful memory attached to her words.
“You say that as if you have experience.”
“We all got our own shit, right,” she sighed. “You think you know a man, fight to be with him while he chases his dream in New York, only to find out he wasn’t who he said he was.”
“He was lying about his identity and you did not know?”
Max laughed at his adorable tendency to take her colloquialisms literally, “In a way. He had two kids and wife in the Bronx. I thought he was going to get me a record deal like he promised, but, turns out, he was going to get married,” she looked over to find T’Challa’s sympathetic eyes already locked on her. Suddenly, the tough exterior that she nearly let melt around the attractive stranger hardened again. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. It’s none of your business.”
“It is not, but I am glad that you are sharing,” he gripped her hands in his, brushing his lips across her smooth knuckles. “I can assure that he was a fool for leaving you. In my country, a woman of your grace and wisdom would be worshipped. She would be Queen.”
His eyes shifted from her deep brown orbs to her plumped lips, wondering how they would glide against his. The attraction between the beautiful brown bodies illuminated by the setting California sun was visible from several miles away. Max hadn’t felt the sparks of energy flowing through her body in years. That part of her life was killed off long ago to focus on taking care of her sister and staying afloat in the hectic day-to-day struggle. Yet, in two hours, a manager from African had set every part of her skin on fire and she wasn’t in a rush to put it out.
T’Challa’s head inched closer to the goddess in front him, hoping that his gesture wasn’t too forward. Apprehension melted into relief when Max moved to close the gap.
The moment was here.
“There his bobblehead ass is right there!”
“Are we sure it is not the actor with the unusual name?”
The moment was gone.
Erik’s stocky frame, accompanied by M’Baku’s much larger body, came bulldozing toward T’Challa and Maxine, with obvious aggression. To T’Challa’s surprise, Nakia and Shuri brought up the rear of the small search party. Nakia wore an unreadable expression that starkly contrasted the mixes of anger and worry adorning the faces of the others.
“Don’t tell me you have a wife and daughter, too,” Max groaned, rubbing the tips of her fingers in tight circles against her temples. “Or a husband. Oh God, is this your husband?”
“What? I am not married. Much less to one of these two miscreants.”
“I resent that. Jabari women fall at my feet for a chance to be my Queen. I can not say the same for the small one.”
“Nigga, you heard me tearing it down last night. Don’t even do that,” Erik defended.
“I heard you having a very brief sexual interaction with a woman. You were not deconstructing any buildings to my knowledge.”
M’Baku’s genuinely confused retort rendered Erik speechless as he opened and closed his mouth to find the words to respond. Instead, he focused his anger on his slightly older cousin. “Where the hell you been, man? We send you out for food and you on the beach with Mary Jane Paul!”
“And, she was about to kiss him,” M’Baku added.
“Woah, woah! He was about to kiss me!”
“I do not know. Your head was much closer to his.”
“It was a 60/40 split! Me being the 60!”
“I’d say 70/30,” Erik interjected to assist M’Baku in his argument. “You were going for it, Evangeline Dandrige.”
“Who are these people?”
“Enough!” The bubbling argument came to a screeching halt at the second outburst of their King. T’Challa’s chest heaved in anger and traces of embarrassment. “I am sorry that I did not return with food as I promised, but, Bast, am I not allowed to enjoy myself? I take a few hours to spend time with a person that understands me and I am met with such hostility. None of you will listen to me when I speak! Max does!”
“Brother, this can be handled another way,” Shuri spoke, eyeing her brother in the way that Ramonda would often do to her.
“Eh, you hush. You are not absolved from your secrecy or your favoritism.”
“Favoritism? What are you blabbering on about? I have shown no favoritism.”
“You think me a fool, Shuri,” T’Challa spat. “I have been your brother for 18 years. I have endured your endless ridicule and cycles of childish pestering only for you to welcome Adrian with open arms. All of you have shown this outsider more respect than you have ever shown me!”
“That is not true, T’Challa,” Nakia mumbled, not aware that her off again lover could hear her.
His eyes widened in shock, “You, of all people, have shown me the least amount of respect, Nakia. You introduce me to my half-brother in public, pop up to my vacation home unannounced, thwart my plans to view scantily clad women dancing to nonsensical songs, and you reject my romantic advances with no explanation. You have become the source of all of my issues!”
“You was really trynna hit the strip club, huh? I see you, cuz,” Erik’s attempt to fist bump his cousin was met with silence and a cold glare. Erik completed the dap on his own and stuffed his hands in his pocket. “You right, wrong time and place. We’ll talk about it when we get back to the crib. Continue.”
T’Challa shifted his intense stare back to Nakia, waiting for her to respond to his accusations.
“Kumkani, your observations are grossly incorrect, but now is not the time to discuss such matters. Especially not in the company of outsiders.”
“Is she…is she talking about me,” Max started, looking between the opposing forces for confirmation. “I know she ain’t calling me an outsider!”
“I think she is, Isis,” Erik instigated with a smile. “What you gon’ do? You gon’ beat her ass? Oooooh I been waiting on some shit to pop off!”
“My money is on the young woman with multiple names. She has a fire behind her eyes that reminds me of my warrior cousin, Ezichi. You know, she nearly killed her first husband with her bare hands.”
“There will be no scuffle,” T’Challa interjected, throwing a hand up to calm the clashing of voices. Nakia looked between her lover and the woman beside him, noticing the way he stepped in front of Max to stop her advances. He was protecting her. “Nakia, you are speaking out of turn.”
“I am speaking out of turn!? Must I remind you that we do not know this woman?”
“I am starting to feel like I do not know you either.”
“What is this nonsense,” Nakia questioned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You are away for two hours and now you do not know me? Give me a break!”
“Are you seeing someone else, Nakia?” The question was abrupt and spoken with no inflection. Nakia quickly became the center of attention as all watched her eyes dart from person to person. Her reaction wasn’t lost on T’Challa. He just needed to hear her say it, to put to be the lingering feelings for her that clouded his judgement.
“Who you told you that,” she asked bodly. “Point them out so that I may ask them why they would share such private information. Was it you, N’Jadaka? M’Baku?”
Shaking his head, T’Challa reached back to grab Maxine’s hand, tugging her away from the group. The signs were there and her reaction to his simple question proved what everyone knew to be true.
The King’s long legs propelled him forward until he was face to face with the River Tribe Princess. Looking her in the eyes proved to be too be painful, forcing him to look past her.
“No one had to tell me, Nakia. You just did.”
The front seat of T’Challa’s rented Lexus coupe was home to pensive silence as it sped through the Oakland, California streets. His passenger, the fiery singer that had spent the better part for three hours listening to his problems, sat beside him looking between the faint blue glow of her iPhone screen and the side of the King’s face.
“Kumkani,” Max repeated, using the phonetic spelling provided by the Google search engine. “a word derived from the Xhosa word translated as ‘King’.”
T’Challa’s hand gripped the wheel tighter and shifted in his seat. This wasn’t the way he wanted her to find out out.
“I was going to tell you.”
“But you didn’t want me to ask for anything? Or is that you wanted to be seen as a ‘regular’ person? Go ahead. I know it’s one of the two. It’s always one of the two,” she signed.
Digesting her statement, T’Challa allowed the car to slow to a stop in front of the B.A.R.T station. With a deep breath, he turned to look at her. “Please, let me take you home. I will explain everything during the trip.”
Her building laughter confused him, sending her further into her fit of giggles. “Wow, you really aren’t from here.”
“I am…not seeing your point. Is taking an acquaintance to their residence not an American custom?”
“A single woman allowing a man she just met to take her home in this country is begging for a missing persons report.”
“Missing persons? Are you implying that I would get lost on the way to your home? The rental period covers the use of the vehicle’s GPS system.” T’Challa’s fingers tapped away on the digital screen to access the car’s maps interface, pulling more giggles from Maxine. “See? Enter your address and we will find the fastest option.”
“T’Challa,” she breathed through a laugh. “I appreciate your chivalry, but I don’t know you. You’ve already lied to me once. Who’s to say you won’t do it again?”
“This is true and, for that, I am sorry. Allow me to explain. I promise it will be worth your while.”
Max allowed T’Challa to pull her hands into his as she attempted to decipher the emotion in his eyes. The only thing she could come up with were his pure intentions to prove that he was worthy of her trust. The faint murmur of the station attendant reminding passengers of arrival and departure times broke through the barrier of silence in the car.
“I, um, I have to go,” she whispered, unlocking the door on her own to exit the vehicle. Stepping into the warm Summer air gave her the opportunity to gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart. Looking back at T’Challa’s disappointed expression, she smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”
The King’s ears perked at the thought of another encounter with mysterious beauty. “When can we meet? I am only here for a few more days.”
His enthusiasm made her smile for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Leaning back into the car, her lips connected with his in a soft, lingering peck. Max watched his eyes flutter open to reveal deep orbs hazed with simmering lust.
“You know where to find me, Kumkani. I’ll be waiting for you.”
I’m listening to Kash Doll think about how Erik would react to a woman like her. Would he be intimidated? Would he be upset when she performs and has niggas drooling over her? Would he be cool with the lyrical content? HALP!
prompt ↬ you have a nightmare and t’challa comforts you so you only have sweet dreams.
warnings ↬ just some fluff, mentions of nightmares :)
Your quiet murmuring stirs the King from his sleep and he sleepily blinks at your body moving around on top of the covers. As he wakes up a little more and listens closer, he can hear you whimpering, chanting something quietly under your breath. He blinks a few more times before his hands go to shake you awake, your whimpering only getting louder from there.
“Wake up, my Queen,” he says, voice thick with sleep and worry. He shakes you harder, looking at you with concern when he sees wet tears run down your cheeks, eyelashes wet. “Were you having a night terror?”
All you can remember is your lover being taken away from you in the most brutal way possible, right before your eyes. You don’t even answer—instead, you lunge yourself at him and hug him tightly when you realize he’s still alive, warm and breathing in your bed, right next to you.
“T’Challa, please don’t ever leave me.” your voice cracks and he wraps an arm around you. You’re in pain and that’s one thing he hates the most. “Please, not like that…”
He didn’t know what you were having a nightmare about, but by the way your body was quivering and you were sobbing gently into the crook of his neck, he could tell it was very bad. He lets you cry and pulls you away, just a bit, hands raising to brush the tears away from your brown skin.
“I would never leave you, sithandwa sam. Not in a thousand years.” he reassures, his thick accent already calming you down. “How could you ever think I would leave someone as perfect as you are?”
You want to laugh at his flattery. He’s the cutest thing in the world. “My nightmare… they t-took you from me. And I watched them… but I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything about it…” you start, feeling a sob crawl up your throat. T’Challa shushes you, wiping more tears from your cheeks.
“No one is ever going to take me away from you, understand? I will not let it happen.” he smiles warmly, gently lying you back down and pulling you close to him. “I must hold you from now on. That will certainly get rid of the night terrors.”
“T’Challa, I don’t think-“
“Shush. You don’t want to wake up crying again in the middle of the night, now do you?”
You giggle and he smiles once again, kissing your forehead and lulling you back to sleep. And he’s right, him being so closed to you gets rid of the nightmares, replacing them with the sweetest dreams instead.
He has you on your stomach, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounds into you roughly and harshly. His grip on the pillow your head is lying on is unforgiving as he grunts with every thrust he delivers to you, making you cry out against the pillowcase.
“Fuck, T’Challa!” you moan, the pleasure overcoming you so much till it’s the only thing you can feel in your veins. He’s so deep and it feels so good that you feel drool slide down your cheek. You’re throbbing, clenching and unclenching around him, torn between squirming away and pushing your ass up against his hips.
He stops and before you can complain, his arm wraps around your middle, lifting your body up to his. His thighs are sore but he likes the burn of fucking you, wanting you to moan so much the only thing you know is his name.
“You feel amazing, my Queen.” his deep voice trails in your ear as he bites into the skin of your shoulder, earning another moan from you as your head falls back onto his. “So addicting.”
“I’m going to cum,” you warn, your hand sliding down your body to find your clit, hips bucking as you squeeze it in between your fingers. “Daddy, I’m going to cum!-“
You look back at him with your eyes wide, trying so hard to move on his cock but he keeps you still.
“Say that again.”
Your eyebrows furrow, confused. What is he on about? And why has he stopped fucking you like you need it? “Say what?!”
“That nickname,” he closes his eyes, cock throbbing inside of you at the thought of your beautiful voice just cooing it to him. “Daddy. Call me that again.”
You don’t even remember saying that but if it renders him to keep pounding into you, you’ll do anything. “Daddy, daddy, please keep fucking me, I need to cum-“
He growls, the sound low in his throat as he presses you back into the bed and slams into you once more. You scream into the pillowcase as he shoves your face into it, pressing against your ass firmly when he feels you go rigid.
It only takes a few more strokes before he pushes back in and empties himself inside of you, moaning at how hot and wet it feels, you joining him with your sounds of pleasure. He pulls out of you, catching his breath before getting up to fetch a wet towel.
“I didn’t even know I called you that.” you admit as he cleans the come leaking out of you and your sweaty back and thighs. “I didn’t know you liked stuff like that, either.”
“I didn’t know until I heard you call me that,” he smiles, licking his lips as he kisses your shoulder. “I could have came on spot.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.” you wink and he grins, lying down next to you for the both of you to catch your breath before round two.