He tugs you through the cloying smoke of the hallway, through a string of entangled bodies, all in varying states of undress, until he finally comes to a stop at the fire exit door. He takes one look at you and the look on your face is enough to have him pushing the door open and tripping the alarm.
“Brown skin girl Your skin just like pearls The best thing in the world Never trade you for anybody else” - Beyoncé, Saint Jhn, and Wizkid feat. Blue Ivy Carter
A/N: This is one of my participations to the Quarantine Writing Challenge proposed by @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup (won’t let me tag you) I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ve also been dying to use this song for a fic because I love it so much
Word Count: 1783
******************* You hummed to yourself trying to keep yourself calm with this fidgeting little girl between your legs. The fidgeting little girl is your adorable, sweet, and at the moment, very annoying daughter Sarai. You were trying to do her hair but it was like she didn’t want you to. She wasn’t usually like this so you figured she was just having an off day where she didn’t want her hair messed with. You understood completely. You kept on understanding until it got too damn irritating.
You huffed putting the wide-tooth comb on the bed beside you. “Ok Sarai. What’s the problem?”
You could hear her pouting and she mumbled something incoherent.
“Excuse me? Mommy is speaking to you clearly so can you give mommy the same treatment back? And face me…” You turned her around to look at her pouty, dismal expression. It hurt you to see your baby so sad. “When I’m talking to you. That’s how a conversation works. Now tell mommy what’s wrong.”
“Where exactly are you taking me,” you slur through toothpaste, spitting it in the sink before rinsing. It’s still early, 8:45, but he’s fast, putting on clothes in his room while you take the bathroom.
“Well you need clothes, I ain’t forget.”
“And hair products, a curling iron, satin cap, my own body wash,” you add using his mouthwash. It’s good he has extras of the basics. The bathroom door is cracked so he can walk in and hand you a stick of deodorant which you jam under your arms and set in an empty drawer with your toothbrush for your own. “Okay, v-neck come through.”
Full business casual, he comes up beside you in the mirror brushing his shaved sides down and you walk out to put your shoes back on, wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
The way out of the building is just as smooth as the way in. You take a staircase to a display where his glossy burgundy BMW sits with tinted windows and custom tags.. his trophy.. and then you get in. He presses a button and you sink through tinted glass looking out at the view until you reach ground and the wall goes up behind you allowing him to back out onto pavement.
“I’ll never get over that,” you mumble looking through the side mirror to watch the opening shut. His own private entrance. A ‘sky garage’ he called it.
“What do you think about Black Wall Street?” He’s driving somewhat normal now, only six miles over the speed limit and you haven’t felt like you were going to fall through the door yet which is a plus.
“Black business, black mecca.”
“It’s been the pinnacle of black successful business. If you look at Tulsa, Jackson Ward, Durham.. We were at the height of self-sufficiency. We had bankers, builders, mechanics, electricians, cooks, shoemakers, tailors…. hairstylists. Anything you needed, you’d get from your own people and it worked! We were putting money in each other’s pockets and building wealth with each other, taking pride in our blackness instead of tryna be the third white race… you know Asians are the second.”
“I was with you until that last one.”
“Nia, you know what happened to all them cities?”
“They were destroyed.”
“By who? Did we destroy ourselves?”
“Boy. Who are you, Dr. Umar?”
“That’s what you think?”
You touch the small black, red, and green beaded necklace with the wooden brown carved Africa pendent sitting in his cupholder.
“Umar Johnson is an ignorant misogynist who uses his platform to spread false information while robbing his followers. That’s what you think of me?”
You blink. “No, I only meant the superwoke part.”
“Unlike him, I have a Ph.D and I don’t think AIDS came from gay black men, but it was intended to decimate the black population.”
“I get it, don’t compare you,” you mutter watching the Oakland city views through your tinted window. People are out, strutting and power-walking on sidewalks and jogging across streets to work.
“Who destroyed our black wall streets?”
“White people,” you sigh giving him what he wants.
“Never forget that the US National Guard united with White Nationalists in 1921 to bomb and shoot up the Greenwood District of Tulsa. They destroyed 35 blocks of self-sufficient black business, murdering an estimated 200 people and injuring more. This is what happens when you and I pull ourselves up by our bootstraps in this country. Jackson Ward? Socio-economic assault. They built a highway right through it and put their own businesses around it to undercut our efforts. They chased us out and sent us to housing projects then filled them with drugs. You see where I’m going with this?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
“Nia, you’ve seen my dreams, you’ve seen where I’ve been. I’ve stood on both sides and seen firsthand how easy it is to infiltrate and decimate an entire city, a region even with the right intelligence and firepower. Hell, I’ve even pulled the trigger and I’m not proud, but it was a necessary evil for me to see that it doesn’t matter how strong you build or how pure your intentions are. When a government decides that you’ve surpassed the ceiling of poverty they’ve designed specifically for you they’ll wipe out a generation, drug you up, and restart you from zero. Do you understand how deep this goes?”
You finger the beaded necklace in your lap. Of course you understand everything he’s saying, but what he’s expecting from you is a different story and you won’t agree to anything prematurely.
“Where’s the end,” you ask. How will he know when he’s accomplished this great mission he’s been on for most of his life? It’s all he breathes. Will he even survive without the fight as his purpose? Keeping your silence, you watch his profile as he turns left.
“Africa. Africa was the start and it’ll be the end, but in the meantime we need to provide legal and physical protection here, major city by city. We need safe houses, secured and armed.. built to withstand the force of a nuclear weapon.”
“How will you manage that?”
“How long will it take is the question.” Pulling up to a building standing among other buildings, this one is as big as a high school with lettering across the front reading Wakandan International Outreach Center. Temporarily, you put the fact that you’re supposed to be shopping to the back of your mind. You’ve heard of this place on the news, but somehow you didn’t put this together. He parks in front of some well manicured bushes in a space marked for the CEO.
“You’re the CEO?” You look around at the cars in the lot, the WIOC bus, and to the people walking inside.
“You ain’t know? Ms. See Everything?”
“If I saw everything, I’d have figured this thing out between us. Don’t ya think?”
He steps out and adjusts his tie. He’s got the grey v-neck sweater vest, the white collared shirt underneath. The navy chinos.. and the navy oxfords.
Getting out, you spin showing off the same outfit you’ve been wearing and his brows raise subtly as you walk in beside him. Immediately he’s rushed with greetings from the three people at the front desk, two guys and a girl, all wearing black WIOC shirts with blue and purple lettering that reminds you of a 90s paper cup pattern. Very stylish and retro.
The girl with the baby face and two long feed-in braids, is reaching out, grabbing your hand to stamp with some sort of mallet which he gently blocks with two fingers on her wrist before it makes contact.
“Shakila, this is an affiliate,” he stares. The girl straightens, backing up meekly and the guy to her right.. the one with a rougher feel and a troublesome glint in his eye can’t be over 21, you guess. He rolls out from behind the desk and you see he’s wearing all black roller skates with orange and green swirled wheels. They look custom.
“72 people in the building, boss, counting you two. Ghost and Slim out patrolling, say we gotta bluebird.. 5-0 campin at Fuller’s they up to something but they been quiet..up there since about 8:15 this morning.”
“Keep watching. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Yezzir.” He rolls off down the hall and makes a right, disappearing.
“Donnie, how you doin,” Erik asks the man who’s been reading a magazine, chillin. He’s bald, light skin, and looks over 40. He’s also as big as Erik! His muscles make his t-shirt took like a muscle shirt, it’s tight, but it seems more of a personal style choice than an issue of not being able to get a bigger shirt.
Erik taps the desk before continuing down a short hall that splits into three and you walk alongside him, making a left when he makes a left and passing two young boys in the hall.
“They thought I was bringing you in for assistance,” he clarifies and your face scrunches. “But you and your salon might be interested in becoming affiliates after I give you the tour.”
“Really? Wow..” This thing with him just keeps getting stranger.
“This is the women’s dorm,” he stops in front of a large expanded room, a space filled with about.. “Twenty beds, ten bunk beds. Forty women can sleep here with their kids. They call and we hold the spot or they show up and take it. That’s all the beds we could fit in there but I’m thinking of expanding. The men’s dorm is on the other side of the building. Don’t worry, we have security. No incidents yet. Further down,” he leads and you follow him down the clean tile hall. He takes you into another opening that says locker room.
“It’s like a YMCA in here.” You turn looking all through at the rows of lockers with actual locks, the showers, four toilet stalls, four sinks.
“There are 60 lockers, eight showers, eight stalls, eight sinks, two washers, and two dryers.”
“Y'all water bill high.” Looking back to him, he smiles and nods for you to head out into the hall again as you follow him. “This place is nice, if I didn’t have my apartment, I’d try to stay someplace like this.”
“It’s our safe place for homeless kids and families or just people who need a place to be without having to look over their shoulder, wondering where their meal coming from or who’s after them.”
Pausing, you look around and Erik stops. This place is beautiful. He’s even got the babies’ art hanging on the walls making the place warmer.
“Yeah.. You know, I’d actually love to be affiliated with this place. I wanna donate. How do I do that?”
“I’m glad you asked, Nia. Keep walking with me. Let me show you the rest,” he smirks, speeding up as he unlocks a door with his handprint that lights up blue.
“What the hell,” you mutter staring between him and the door.
“Staff only entrance. Extra measure to keep the women safe on this side, if you wanna leave or come in, there’s one way and you gotta get through security, that way you’re only back here if you’re supposed to be.
Through the door is another hall that’s perpendicular to the one you just left. You follow him left and come to a large open cafeteria full of people sitting at tables, eating. Men, women, small children, teens, all black for the most part. There is a sprinkle of darker skin that isn’t black. A mother with three young kids and then an old man.
“How do you get away with only taking black people? Isn’t that 'discrimination’,” you ask with air quotes. Not that you take issue with it, you’re just curious. He laughs.
“When the colonizers come we just tell them we don’t have the space and if there’s an issue we have Donnie escort them out. We don’t get governmental assistance, we’re not required to run how they think we should run. We screen everyone who comes through and take who we think will benefit from our programs.
"Wow, I’m with it,” you smile following him to the food line.
“Gone 'head baby,” the older woman in front of him waves for you both to go ahead. He puts his hand on her back and kisses her cheek and the line ahead happily parts like the red sea letting the both of you through with a quickness. They love him. They genuinely love him. They also all have stamps on their hand. One woman is trying to pull her stubborn toddler aside and out of the way, but Erik sweeps him up and sits the boy on his hip, winking at the woman before passing you a white dish and grabbing two more.
“What you want lil man,” he asks as he goes through each option fixing two plates. One (sausage links, grits, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, pancakes, fruit cup) for himself and one (sausage links, bacon, eggs, pancake, fruit cup) for the kid.
Choosing a table, you sit with your plate (some of everything because it looks good) and Erik follows, sitting across from you with the kid and the two plates.
“I’ll get the drinks,” you offer heading back to pick up two glasses of apple juice, making it to the table before returning for one more glass and three straws. You pass them out and take your seat, mouth watering and ready to eat.
“Bow your head and close your eyes, please.” You lower yours and wait.
“I don’t close my eyes.” He lowers his head and you say the prayer as the toddler reaches into Erik’s plate grabbing one of his sausages. Erik doesn’t look up but he shakes his head with a slow smile and you try to keep from laughing as you finish saying grace.
“Amen,” you snort picking up your fork.
“This why I keep my eyes open,” he points to the kid, shaking his head in humor. He sets the boy in the seat and hands him a piece of his own sausage. Looking over, you see the mom approaching with her plate and an apologetic smile.
“Lord,” she sighs. She’s pretty though she looks tired. “I’m so sorry, he’s a handful, I know.”
“Not at all,” Erik smiles. She sits next to her son and he automatically starts pulling on her, saying “mama, mom, mommy,” just busy, so she pulls him onto her lap to keep him still. They’re both cute and remind you of Lia and her son, Jackson.
“This is Chyna.. and Orion,” he palms the boy’s head playfully. “Chyna, this is Nia,” he nods digging into his plate.
“Hi Nia,” she smiles and you reach out to take her hand, asking how she is. She’s great but ready to eat, she laughs and for a while you all just focus on eating.
“Mommy,” Orion starts and you understand 40% of what he just said. His mom entertains him with hums of “Really? Oh wow,” as she eats, feeding bacon into his hands.
“You here for a job,” she asks looking up and it’s an innocent question.
“I’m here on tour of the facility, just lookin-”
“Nia is an affiliate and potential shareholder. We’re in discussion,” he interrupts.
“Oh okay..,” Chyna’s eyes widen. “So you’re getting a feel of the center. Let me tell you why this place is so important,” she says all humor gone.
“Me and my son have been here for the past few nights.. a few nights before that.. and then maybe a week prior.” She looks to Erik and he nods.
“His father, Rashaad,” she continues, gesturing to her son, “He died last month and didn’t leave a dime. I talked to his family and my family and they told me I could sign over his body and the state would cremate him,” she pauses, still in shock from it. “…But I couldn’t do that…” Tears leak from her eyes and you look around for a napkin. She swallows, her eyes turning pink, and takes a breath. “Then there was the rent.. We hadn’t paid it for the month and our extension was running out,” she sniffs. “Well I had a funeral to plan, I couldn’t let the state take him.”
Orion, feeling her sadness, rubs her face to try to make her feel better and she tries to pull herself together.
“So ah-” she wipes her nose. “I took a chance and contacted the Wakandan International Outreach Center and they not only paid for the burial and the coffin, they sent a representative to the funeral for words of encouragement and I’ll never forget that,” she sighs. Erik keeps his eyes down to his plate.
“See, his daddy.. was a hood,” she continues, eyes dead on yours. You know what she’s talking about. You don’t have to grow up in Cali to have family in the streets. “He was shot out there in the streets in a driveby…,” she sniffs. “And you know.. people like to talk a lotta shit, but even if he wasn’t nothing to nobody else, he was someone to me. I loved him.”
“We’re working on getting Chyna a higher paying job to cover her rent,” Erik interjects giving her time to wipe her face.
“Yeah, they paid the rent for the month and they’re paying next month. I’m taking the class on building a resume now. I’m still working at Ross, I’m just trying to do everything I can.
"You’re doing a lot,” you offer and Erik gestures for you to stand to follow him out. “It was good to meet you and hear your experience,” you smile shaking her hand.
“Thank you, and I’m glad you’re trying to help. We need more people like him,” she points to Erik.
“Shit, don’t boost me,” he smiles. It’s something he’s done a lot since he’s been here and you’ve noticed that his smile is something that brings so much peace and a sense of safety to these people. Still, looking at him you can see deep down there’s a spot in him that isn’t touched. It’s full of rage and intense sadness that his smile can’t cover. If only the peace he provided to all these people would reach him.
But what DMs? Who’s talking shit about me,“ you hiss mid-stair. He’s halfway down the hall.
"Bring ya ass on,” he whisper-yells and you jog over to grab his wrist demanding his focus.
“I hear you,” he says a little forcefully, unzipping the fly to his black Levi’s and walking sock-footed into the main bathroom on the way to the toilet.
“Okay so? Why have you never brought any of this up to me? And how many of these messages you been getting?”
“Hella. Bae, get out I gotta piss.”
“I need to see these messages.”
“You finna see more than that.”
“I don’t care, I’ve seen your dick before.. Erik!..”
“Out,” he points to the door.
Closing it behind you, you wait in the hall while he does his business. When he opens the door he double-blinks shocked to see you standing so close, glaring up at him.
“You never mentioned it… Don’t you think that’s something important to tell me?”
“For what,” he deadpans. “What would you do with that information?”
“Tell you I’m not cheating!”
“I know you not cheating.” He says it so matter-of-factly that it catches you off guard.
“It’s just odd. Someone sends you pictures and you aren’t the least bit curious?”
“Should I suspect you?”
“Hell nah! I’m very loyal,” you scoff. “But with all these seeds being planted in your mind, you never had any doubts about me?”
“Once or twice,” he admits, his forearm now resting on the wall over your head.
“WHEN?” Your eyes are wide.
“You remember when I hit you up and you said you was at the studio, but my producer ain’t see you?”
Of course I remember that.
“I couldn’t figure out why you’d lie to me about something that small.”
“Erik, that was the night I wanted to surprise you by having your favorite cheesecake from Sugar’s because I was excited you were coming home!”
“I know that now,” he smirks sarcastically. It was also the first night we played with food and sex. The cake was a mess, we had to buy new sheets. “Only reason I was trippin then was cuz three niggas DM’d me the same video saying you was in the clubs with 6lack and that I’m a simp cuz the nigga was kissing all down your neck.” He rubs down his own thick neck in distaste for the mental image. “I zoomed,” he pinched the air, “She looked like you, her skin and her hair. Side profile. The fucked up part was I knew through the business 6lack was tryna collab and you were on to collab with a rapper. Plus I was away for a lil bit. But I looked at that picture real close and I saw she had green polish. Last I’d seen, you were wearing white.”
“I’ve never even- …what? Erik! You should’ve told me!”
“No need. Even if the rumors were true, I wouldn’t leave you.. Not immediately.”
“Not immediately, but you’d dip on my ass and I wouldn’t know why.” That actually kind of hurts. “I mean, I do get it. Cheating is definitely my dealbreaker.”
“Oh for sure. Disloyalty is mine and I hate liars.”
“Wow,” I mouth just staring at him. “You really never hit me with the questions..”
“I checked up on you to make sure you were straight,” he straightens defensively.
“No, I know. I mean clocking my moves. You never did that.”
“I’m not your last nigga,” his brow raises indignantly. “You know where home is just like I know what I deserve.”
“You’re right, you deserve the best. You deserve me,” you smile, the smile drooping seconds later. “Erik, those messages.. all these lies about me. They really bother me and I know they shouldn’t and that I should get used to it but I don’t like having my integrity on trial like this. I don’t get why people would say so much about someone they’ve never met, like I’m not a person with emotions.”
He unlocks his phone and taps a few times and when he shows you the screen it’s his Twitter account. His DM’s are packed full of people, just like yours. It suddenly hits you how you never check each others’ phones. You never felt a need to check his. He puts his phone in your hand and you scroll opening a random message. It’s a nude of a blonde white woman sent with no other information. She’s showing pale pink nipples and barbie proportions but he hadn’t responded. The next message is one from one of his fan accounts sending him a bunch of hearteyes. He takes over the phone exiting out of that and scrolling. The next message he shows, they’d forwarded a post about you fucking 6lack with a sad face emoji. You open it and have to admit there’s a strong resemblance, but you’ve never, ever cheated on him.
“What the hell? That’s not even me, I swear!”
“This is raising my blood pressure.”
“It goes with the fame. They always talk shit about me being a fuckboy even though I been with you all this time. It just means you’re relevant.”
“There’s gotta be other ways to stay relevant- Shh. Wait… You hear that?”
You listen to the air. It’s silent, you just noticed. You decide to peep in on the baby. He’s still knocked out. Though it’s quiet now, he’d slept through another World War and it makes you wonder how bad Nay and Corey have been cuttin up in that apartment for this kid to be that used to the noise. Nay probably underplayed the severity of the situation.
Erik cracks the door again concealing the baby from your sight to direct you to the stairs with a nod. Leading the way, you head down silently
in search of Anaya. She’s not in the living room where you’d left her with Corey and they’re not in the kitchen, his favorite place.
“Where did she go,” you mouth watching Erik peep through a window and cross the room. You look through the same window, see nothing, and follow Erik as he heads to the hot tub. As you approach, you can hear noises. Splashing, plopping, moaning, and..
“Shit, y'all getting it in ain’t you,” Erik grins. Anaya’s body melts into the water as she grips the edge of the hot tub to hide. Corey hits one more pump and she hits him, not wanting to moan.
“GET OUT,” Corey yells sending a splash out of the tub in Erik’s direction. It sprinkles you both, but most of the water falls back down as you hop back.
“This my house,” Eriks grins.
“And I like to watch," you add, humored by the fact that they can’t find it within themselves to stop fuckin.
"Y/N get out!” Anaya splashes, water bouncing from her arch as Corey’s hips clap against her ass underwater. You laugh holding your knees so not to fall.
“Get it Nay! That’s how you get baby number 2!”
“GET OUT,” they both yell in unison.
Back in the house, Erik’s eyes are crinkled and he’s trying to contain himself like you but you’re both actually children and can’t stop giggling. In any case, the two seem to be alright now.
“Baby. I wanna finish this conversation.” You wait beside the sink looking at his eyes. “As you know, Anaya and I made a fake page and found some of the people who be spreading shit about me. Hate pages and they’re mostly mad because I’m with you.”
“I saw that shit. Sent them to Quentin and he said he traced the IP addresses of the two Twitter accounts we sent him, but something ain’t sit right with me.” He pours himself a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and leans against the counter to eat it, smacking loudly. “Who been watching us to know my schedule.. They said some bout me leaving the house and us barely being together. My tour schedule is public but other than that don’t nobody but you and my team really know where I be.”
“You think it’s somebody on your team doing this?”
“Nah, everybody on my team love you and glad you’re here to make me more manageable. They feel like they can snitch to you to keep me in line.”
That one makes you giggle.
“I think it could be someone on your team. Someone you hired.” He stares through you as he chews and you wait for him to finish his theory, on edge. It’s all got you paranoid especially when he sits the bowl down unfinished. “Gimme your phone.” He looks serious and confused, you hand it over.
“I’ll be back,” he says zipping up the stairs. Within minutes he’s back with shoes on fully dressed grabbing his keys. He kisses you on the cheek and you jog after him to the door.
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”
“TELL COREY DON’T NUT IN MY TUB,” he yells back as you watch him leave.
With nothing to do and no one to do it with you decide working on your music is the best use of your time and return to the home studio to work on track six of your album. Last you were there, you couldn’t get quite right. Erik could hear it and so could you.
Pursing your lips you slide back up to the computer, put your Drop headphones back on, and play it back. Then you add the rap from earlier and play it back wishing the team was still in the house to give some advise. Hell at this point you’d listen to Courtney, the new and improved nanny.
Before another thought can cross your mind, you’re tossing your headphones back on the table and running down the stairs out to the hot tub where Anaya and Corey are in their underwear slow dancing to Marvin Gaye. Rushing in, you immediately start looking for their phones in their pile of clothes.
“Sis. Whatcha doin,” Corey asks still looking at Anaya but he can hear me ruffling through their things.
“Looking for a phone, Erik has mine.”
“Under y'all coffee table,” he says finally making eye contact to see your face twisted in mock disgust. “What.. don’t act like y'all niggas don’t fuck everywhere in this house.”
“It’s our house! That’s okay though y'all just roll in where we nutted at, it’s fine,” you wave dismissively.
“Y'all can soak in where we nutted at! Have fun cuh’ I skeeted all in this bih-”
“BYE COREY. Stupid ass,” I mumble so he hears. I don’t have time to play with him I need to call Erik.
“What bitch,” he answers and you almost fire off, feathers ruffled and taken aback until you remember you’re calling from Corey’s number.
“Y/N,” his tone changes. “Sup baby, you okay?”
“Yeah I thought about what you said and the NANNY.. what if it was her? Not Courtney but the one I caught in my stuff.. Raven. She freaked me out.”
“I think you might be right, I got her info from your phone. I’m headed to her now.”
“You’re going to her apartment?”
“Yeah, trust me okay?”
“Okay but I’ve got a bone to pick with her, I would’ve went just so I could beat her ass one time.”
He snorts. “You’re staying out of it. As far as anyone knows, you aren’t the one who deals with this shit. You have an image to protect.. unless you wanna be painted as aggressive and reckless like me."
"I don’t care.”
“Yes. You do.”
“And anyway you’re not as reckless as they paint it and when you are I like it,” you shrug resting your hand on your hip. “You’ve got character.. and so do I.”
“Okay well keep your character over there, you got enough drama on your name.”
Hanging up with him, you realize you can’t call the bitch either because her contact was in your phone, but that can’t be the end of it. It’s not that you don’t trust Erik, you just want your one hit in. Heading to the hot tub again, you catch Anaya and Corey as they’re coming back toward the kitchen.
“YES? WHAT,” she asks wide-eyed like I’m blowing her high.
“You won’t believe this. I think that old nanny, the one who neglected my godson to play dressup in my closet, might be the one who leaked my number.”
Immediately she freezes in place. “You know you did contact her before it happened,” she points at me connecting dots in her head. “She was probably the type. No, definitely. It was her ass,” she nods swinging hands like she’s ready to fight.
“Godson?… My son?” Corey looks interested now, chin angled down like it better be a lie.
“Anthony, nigga. I hired her to give Anaya a mental break and the trifling hoe did nothing all day but walk around my house and go through my stuff.”
“She ain’t even feed or change my son,” Anaya adds tapping Corey on his chest. He’s pissed all over again, his lip curled in disgust.
“Hell nah where she at,” he frowns.
“Erik went to find her and took my phone since he figured it out first. I don’t have her information.”
“Hell, I do.” Anaya jogged up the stairs and returned holding the sleeping Anthony and a slip of paper. “I wrote it down after what she did cause I was ready to find her ass myself but didn’t wanna do it here and drag you in it, you got enough problems. Sorry for unlocking your phone, but hmm,” she hums as Corey takes the slip scanning it.
“I’m glad you did it,” you assure glad to have the information now. Corey’s already gone and when he returns he’s got your car keys in hand, storming out the front door and you jog after him with your hand out. “Uh uh! Bring my keys back!” He looks at you like you’ve got to be kidding but when he comes back, you snatch the house key to lock up and toss them back to him. “Now we can go!” This time you don’t stop him as he jogs off. You, Anthony, and Anaya are right behind him. It’s the fastest Anaya has ever put Anthony in that carseat with him waking up only to look around and out the car windows, touch his shoes, and go back to sleep.
Pulling up to the address you see Erik’s car and hop out the passenger side of your car as Corey leaves the car running for sake of the A/C. “Stay here with my son,” he orders to Anaya, slamming the door.
“Easy. On. My. Car,” you fuss rolling your eyes. The both of you jog ahead to the apartment building and there’s no elevator in sight. Without a second thought, he jogs up the stairs and you follow, walking up.
By the time you get there, your legs hurt but you make it to the apartment not sure of whose ass you can beat until your legs recover. You try the door and it’s unlocked so you walk in, stopping short before you turn the corner. When you peep around… There standing with his arms folded is Erik in front of Corey who’s threatening to kill someone. Never have you ever seen Corey this angry to threaten to kill someone but he’s serious. Briefly you wonder why Erik’s standing there in front of him like that and not brawling then you peep a little further. There’s a gun pointed at them but you can’t see who’s holding it without exposing that you’re there and coming in further. It looks like it’s Raven’s arm.
“You better pray you don’t miss,” Corey laughs behind Erik as he moves to block Corey’s vital points.
“Say that to my face.. step around,” the girl’s voice taunts. “Scared?”
Corey is losing control and it finally hits you that Erik’s using himself as a shield because the girl won’t shoot him.
“COME ON,” she challenges. “I don’t want you here, I just want HIM,” she chuckles.
“Fuck that,” Erik retorts. “Never again.”
Again?? You almost walk in there but stop yourself. It had to be before you. Yeah, that has to be the case.
“If you strip for me… right… now,” she giggles, “I’ll let your friend go. Simple. Whaddya say Erik? I promise. Baby, I promise.”
Oh hell nah.
“He ain’t doing shit bitch, shoot me. I dare you,” Corey jumps causing Erik to shift again.
You can’t leave and you don’t have a phone to tell Anaya to call 911. Besides, neither of you would respect calling 911 anyway it was already out of the question.
But you also know if the bitch is this crazy and Corey is this mad, she will shoot him dead and Erik can’t move because he knows she’ll shoot Corey. They’re stuck and she’s taking advantage. There’s only one thing left to do.
“BOO BITCH,” you yell running around the corner praying you don’t die tonight. You anticipate her firing her gun at you and slide as she shoots.. like a boss until she fires down. You try to dodge and get hit in the shoulder before Erik tackles her to the ground almost breaking her hand to seize the gun, snatching it.
“Corey, take Y/N and go,” he orders.
“Hell nah! I ain’t get shot to leave I’m in this,” you fuss.
“She said she ain’t leaving till this bitch dead,” Corey points to the woman who’s pinned to the ground.
“If it’s by your hand, I’ll accept it,” the woman on the ground laughs like a psycho.
“Harpo who this woman?” You stare at Erik’s head and he looks back at you briefly, sighing in irritation.
“You wanna talk about this now??”
“Did you put your dick in that bitch? When?”
“When we separated. It was one time.”
You gasp. “You was fuckin groupies while we were apart?!”
“Baby.. yes, okay. Damn.”
“So what was the difference between me and them? You were really fucking random bitches!!”
“You’re not special,” the woman he’s sitting on teases and you finally get a good look at her to realize it’s not Raven at all…
“Who is this bitch,” you squint looking down at her.
“SOME BITCH,” he yells.
“Psycho bitch,” Corey adds. “Slice her fuckin titties off yo.”
“Corey… Who’s this bitch,” you ask.
“Superfan. Stalker ass..”
“What?” Now you’re really confused.
“This was never about you. She was tryna get to me,” Erik reveals.
“Cuz you fucked her,” you blurt.
“YEAH. I FUCKED HER. ONE TIME.”
“What you expect,” Corey interjects. “I told your ass to go get him, how long you expect him to hold out. Two years? Cut him some slack. Man was going through it.”
“Don’t worry, I took care of him then, he’ll be okay if you walk out again,” the girl under Erik giggles pissing you off for the last time.
“Uh uh, Erik get up,” you command and initially he ignores you, but you tap his shoulder and gesture for him to stand up.
Groaning, he gestures to your injured shoulder but steps back and the woman chuckles standing up from the floor.
“I’m a beat your ass myself. Woman to woman,” you nod feeling her out to see how she’ll move. You haven’t been in many fights in your life, but win or lose this is one you feel like you need.
“You can try, ” she shrugs and you both move trying to find that in. She raises her hands like she’s finding a time to swing and you wait doing the same.
“Hit me bitch,” she laughs.
“I will,” you chuckle ready to boo her.
She jabs and you dodge but her follow-up hits you in the nose knocking you back and you can see Corey in the background balling his lips like a mother saying you better not lose.
She hits you again and you miss her when you swing giving her the chance to grab your injured shoulder. Yelling out in pain, you grab her and scuffle knocking her backward where gravity does the work. She hits her head on the floor and straddle her to return the hits she gave you to her face with interest until Erik pulls you off by your waist holding you back.
“Put me down, I’m a drown her in her own blood!”
“Chill bae, I called my bodyguards. They’ll handle her and her funky ass cousin. We need to leave though. Let’s just go home..”
You still, calming yourself and smoothing out your hair before scooting to kick her one time in the ribs, “For Anaya,” and once more “for Anthony. Now I’m done.”
Spinning on your heels and walking out, you head down the stairs where Corey and Erik come down right behind you.
Co-workers don’t typically try to knock down your front door or threaten to burn your house. Those are actions reserved for people with feelings attached. Erik has a lot of sexual partners, that’s nothing new. It only makes sense that someone else would find themselves attached to him.
Leaning in closer to hear the conversation, you step forward but the “co-worker” sighs crossing the room.
“Fine. Have fun,” she says listening silently before lowering the phone. If that was all they had to talk about, why had she been threatening him and his house? Why had he been avoiding her call? It doesn’t make sense. Something about their relationship ain’t right, and if she were actually a sub, why would Erik lie about something that stupid? He didn’t hide his other subs. In fact, he’d proudly paraded them. So it wouldn’t make sense now to lie about this one. She was definitely not in the count that he’d given you as far as his subs and he’d been thorough then.
Impossible. He can’t be secretly in love with her. Can he? No, he’d have answered her call.. He’d have given her a key.. Maybe. Never really know with him. What if she knows about me.. Maybe he told her.
Her face is aggravatingly neutral and it seems she’s done that on purpose.
“Where exactly do you work again,” you test.
Without making eye contact she holds the cell phone out to you and turns on her heel to glide quickly back to the staircase, speeding down with you hot on her heels.
“HEY,” you call grabbing her upper arm and she snatches away quickly before stepping into your personal space in a piercing threat, brown eyes locked on yours. You’ve seen eyes like that before.. on Erik. Knowing him, he’d definitely find a way to yell at you for getting your ass beat by a bitch you let in.
“…Who are you?”
“Oh girl,” she scoffs with a shake of her head. “We ain’t doing this tonight.”
“The hell we ain’t. You come barging in here like you pay the mortgage and then you can’t talk about for what purpose? Does Erik own your mouth, is that why you can’t speak? Why are all of y'all so damn troublesome,” you frown. “I’m just trying to mind my business and I always end up in the middle of some bullshit.”
Her eyes narrow briefly, her chest moving as she sighs, “..And why are you here?”
“I was invited unlike some people.”
“Riiight.” She rolls her eyes and heads toward the door with you behind her again, but this time you don’t touch her.
“Yes? No? You’re his sub right?”
“Fuck.. Me,” she mumbles to the sky turning yet again, glare steady. She obviously thinks these are stupid questions. “We work together. What part of work are you not understanding?”
“How long have you two been working together,” you ask knowing she hears the real question. Shaking her head, she turns back to the front door.
“What’s your name?”
She turns again, her exasperation now painfully clear.
“Sis, I’m a give you a word of advice that I give to all of Erik’s little pets. One.. Don’t get too attached. Get your nut and go.”
“But you threatened to burn down his house for ignoring you. Is that not too attached?”
“We are co-workers. He told you that. I told you that. One thing has nothing to do with the other. Two.. Don’t keep digging for shit you ain’t ready for or you might just find it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’ll go home if you’re smart,” she stares. “Doesn’t look to me that you are though.”
“Then maybe you need glasses because I can clearly see why he ignores you. You’re a bitch.”
Her eyes widen briefly as she’s taken aback. Turning, she walks to her car and you’ve yet to get answers. She pulls away slowly into the night as you watch her car disappear leaving you alone with the house again. As irritating as it was having her there, it did take your mind away from the uneasy feeling that was building in your gut. Looking around at the black open space outside, you close the door and head back to the couch deciding to sleep there where you can hear.
Disassembling the AS50 took less than three minutes so Erik had taken it upon himself to take a few of the weapons from the trailers as well as the ones in the clearing where the dead men laid in the brown hard dirt. After collecting them and binding them to make them easier to carry, his makeshift bandage needed to be changed. Also, he couldn’t lug all of the bodies realistically although he wanted to clean up his mess. He sat carefully on a fold-up chair in the clearing, ripping material from the shirt of one of the men and tying up his leg again. Damn he really missed Rell. Rell was his right hand and he’d never had to worry about this shit when Rell was around. He’d do the killing and Rell would make it all go away as if it never happened. No one would know and Erik would go right back to his house and try to sleep or live a normal life. As normal as he could. Swift was his left hand. She had the information, the technology, and she was a platinum level scammer.. but Rell.. man, Rell was special. Rell was like a brother.
A drop fell onto the dirt and for a moment Erik wondered if it was starting to rain before he realized it had come from him. His eyes were wet and though he wasn’t making any sound and his breathing was still normal.. he was somehow crying. He stared at the dirt as small round spots darkened, wet from his tears.
“What the fuck did I do,” he whispered in the silence, surrounded by dead bodies with no life outside of the small animals and the brown spider creeping on his hand. The scenario ran through his mind again. The set-up. The near death experience. Pulling the trigger on Rell as he sputtered to verbally defend himself. He ain’t deserve that. “Damn.” He cursed himself inwardly for being a no-good, selfish, and non-compromising, murdering asshole. “What the fuck did I do.” His hands began to shake and he threw down his gun bag before taking a deep breath and holding it as he mentally counted to ten while holding his nasal bridge. Then he released it slowly, inhaling again for another 10 seconds before releasing it. He had to get himself together and do it fairly quickly. Falling back on the breathing techniques he’d shown Y/N, he focused on the sound of his heartbeat and on keeping it calm and consistent. He couldn’t afford to let his mental resolve weaken. Afterall, he couldn’t go back in time and handle life differently, he had to build on what had already been done. Rell was dead. He’d murdered him. He’d murdered hundreds of people. He’d probably murder hundreds more before his own time came to be brutally murdered. It was inevitable, he couldn’t escape his hellish history and he was resigned to a very short future. Rell would get his justice someday and until that day, he’d have to handle the mess… but not today.
Shoving off the spider that had made its way to his shoulder, he sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He’d learned enough from observing Rell to be adequate as a replacement. He couldn’t drag all of the bodies through the woods, but he could manipulate the scene, arrange them and make it look like an amateur did it. Then again, these guys wouldn’t have lost their lives to an amateur. Erik picked up his bag and looked around with a sigh before saying fuck it. The CIA wanted these mothafuckas dead anyway, he’d let them clean it up. That was one of the benefits of killing for a government agency. Not that he was still doing that (mainly because they like to act like they own a nigga).. but they’d cut him some slack.
Quickly he snapped pictures of the bodies and sent them to Swift, waiting for his money to hit and washing his hands of the situation. If it came down to it, Erik wouldn’t deny his involvement he’d just have a slew of new people to kill until the issue was forgotten. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.
Erik hobbled through the woods, bag in hand and weapon bundle on his back as he passed under branches and around rocks on the uncharted path. “Shit.. Shit.. fuck..,” he hissed as he picked up his leg repeatedly to walk as long as it took to the car. He wanted to kiss the hunk of metal on arrival, but slung his weapon bundle into the trunk and folded himself gingerly inside the driver’s seat with his bag in the passenger seat. He sighed starting the car. He had to get to get some shit to stitch himself up so he could stop bleeding and head to the airport before he was pulled over for driving a stolen vehicle. He’d drive as carefully as he could force himself to drive so not to arouse suspicion.
Upon snorting awake on the couch, you look around briefly to see where you are. It’s indeed the couch downstairs in Erik’s home and it’s a little drafty because of the A/C causing you to shiver and pull the blanket around you tightly. You need to charge your phone but the charger is upstairs.
It takes ten minutes for you to move, keeping the blanket wrapped around you as you ascend the graceful stairs to your room. In your bag is your charger along with laundry that needs to be washed from your trip. Getting it together, you decide to wash them in two separate loads before moving onto your bedsheets and pillow cases. It’s while that’s washing that you make yourself some tea. It’s not Trader Joe’s Red Refresh, but in the bare minimum it serves its purpose to wake you up.
After that, it only takes one more good look around for your lips to pout. It’s actually a very clean living space considering Erik is a man, but there’s still the basic maintenance like dust and baseboards. Your eyes go to the dust buildup on his game collection and console in particular. It’s a bothersome eyesore and you saw his cleaning supplies so why not? He’d do it for you… possibly… maybe.
Anyway, you don’t really mind. Cleaning is therapeutic and good for calming the mind. You decide to re-light his candle from last night while you’re at it.
In the early hours, Erik walked casually through the next hotel’s parking lot dressed in comfortable all black with his bag of equipment, following silently and subtly a few feet behind a clueless older white man, mid-50s in loafers. The guy was making his way to a small silver Ford c-max with key in hand. He hit the unlock moving to the passenger side and luckily, he was parked next to a truck. Erik hopped in the cut behind him and between the two cars, wrapping his right arm around the guys neck, catching his chin in his elbow. The guy grabbed Erik’s arm trying to resist and protect his throat, but Erik gripped his shoulder before locking his left arm behind the man’s head, thumb to his own right ear. The throat was caught between his arm and bicep as he squeezed for ten seconds feeling the man go slack. He released him gently to the ground and took the keys, sliding into the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the hotel lot, he turned on the radio grimacing when country music flared from the speakers. He switched the radio to the hip hop station. After thinking over the dinner incident, he knew exactly how he’d been located. He knew the risks earlier when he’d taken that damn picture despite being in the middle of a game of assassins. He needed to get to the computer at the Reunion Tower to access employee files. That was his start.
Parking a block away, Erik created his own route to side entrance, carrying his bag over his shoulder. It would’ve been so much easier if he could’ve strongarmed an employee to get in, but they were all long gone as were the police so fuck all that. He didn’t need anyone to get the job done, he’d do it himself. Checking out the lock, he wondered about the security system. If he weren’t on a time crunch, he’d have waited to scope the place out for cameras and to check the security system. All he had to go on was what he’d picked up earlier in the day. His knowledge was something, but not thorough. He knew they probably had a security alert system in place but it likely wasn’t sophisticated and officers were not 24/7. He’d probably trigger a silent alarm so time was of the essence as well as a mask for whatever CCTV they had. He had an unassuming black ski mask that he put on, tucking his gold necklace. He also wore gloves so his race wouldn’t be known.
Picking the side lock instead of the front or back was the better decision. Typically it was the least congested when it came to security, in his experience and now that he was into the tower, he had to be efficient and brief. He had two goals. 1) Hack into the employee records for staff schedules and staff personal information. He could get this from payroll. 2) Delete all photos they have on file that way he could delete his own image without singling himself out.
The harsh bounce of the plane as its wheels drop loudly and beat the runway shakes you awake and throws you around in your seat, the mechanical whirring of the machinery rushing forward like a giant car. Judging by the hush that had been as a blanket over every passenger, it seems that you’re not the only one who was knocked out. As the lights shine on in the plane you can see and hear people waking up, shifting to life in their seats. The sky is still black, but the plane is guided by by amber artificial lighting. When it finally rolls to a stop, you have to wait along with everyone else to get off. Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you check the time. It’s close to 2:45, which means it’s almost 5 in Texas.
Erik is probably stretched out right now on his face, buried under pillows and enjoying having that hotel bed to himself.Maybe he’ll let the maids into the room this time… or not. Knowing him, it’s still not likely.
Finally the first few rows stand up starting the exit wave. You jump up with sleep still in your eyes to tug your bag down from the overhead bin, following the quick moving line of passengers through the suspended hall into the airport gate. They all move like they have somewhere to be in a hurry the way they speed speedwalk from the plane like they weren’t just knocked. Meanwhile, you’re ready to take a nap in one of these many empty seats you keep passing up.
“We ain’t that reckless,” you mumble. If you fell asleep in a public area with your luck you’d wake up with half your luggage or items missing. “..Sleepy sleepy sleepy,” you mumble.
The good thing about flights at this time is that the airport is practically empty which means there’s no one in your way, no one to compare your pace to, and no one to dodge or speed walk against. You can take things at your own pace without the social pressure to keep up without looking fatigued. Collecting your checked luggage from the baggage claim, you go your own pace to the parking lot hitting the unlock on the key fob. The familiar lights flash on and you head on over settling in.
It feels so strange driving Erik’s car without him in it. You feel yourself blinking a little too much and too long, yawning into the side of your wrist with watery eyes. The same energy from the airport is on the road, borderline deserted. There aren’t a lot of cars out riding around past 3 especially where you’re headed. You flip on the radio turning it to a pop station and High Hopes by PATD has just started. Cranking it up, you sing along as loudly as you can muster to wake yourself up. You can feel yourself swerve a bit. The music carries you all the way to that exit where you turn off into some stretch of rural nothing. It’s where you take an unmarked and nearly unnoticeable road that looks like it leads to nowhere. Following it, you find that familiar long and dark backroad, riding through under a canopy of tall grass and weed-like plants that shoot up from the dirt like walls. You drive slowly fearful of a frantic deer or some large animal jumping out in front of the vehicle. Finally, you’re met with the large isolated modern house with glass panels. It’s very dark. Strong shadows are cast all over the surrounding area, the greenery… the only light comes from the stars up above, twinkling mildly off of the glass.
How does Erik see anything when he comes home at night with the lights off? The place isn’t even lit properly, he ought to leave the lights on! How does he feel safe like this?
Come to think of it, he does pack guns. You’d counted three. One he gave to you for emergencies, one you’d seen in his hand when he came to your rescue in your apartment, and one you’d seen at dinner when the restaurant got shot up. You cringe at the memory of the blood and the shots. It looked like someone had died yet Erik had been so ready to rush out to play hero, confronting the situation head-on as if he were still active duty and on the front lines. That part of him while honorable is still very scary because his overconfidence and meddling nature could potentially be the death of him. Then what? He’s only human and not immune to attacks but he just won’t back down. It seems to be embedded into his makeup.
Three guns. That’s only what you’ve seen! The thought makes you shake your head. Maybe that’s it right there. Maybe Erik doesn’t feel safe either. Maybe that’s why he has so many guns.. to protect himself.. because of the life he’s lived. He’s seen some awful things, you’re sure. Things you can’t imagine and the way he hardly blinked watching those attackers… You shiver. He wouldn’t call it fear, he’d call it being prepared. Either way, he feels a strong need to watch his back, that much you can gather.
The first thing you do when inside the house is go through and flip on all the lights downstairs and then upstairs. Well, not all of them, but enough to start to feel like you aren’t the main character in a horror movie with some homicidal maniac hunting you from the woods. The influx of light enough to ease your mind for the time being and you use the excess jittery energy to unpack and put your brand new belongings away. You hadn’t gotten a chance to wear everything you’d bought in Texas, but something told you that you would. Erik was entirely too extra to not find an occasion. He’d probably create one.
Stripping down, you locate his hamper tossing in your belongings. You’ll wash them all tomorrow. As for now, you head naked down the hall and into the bathroom more excited than ever to use his spa room of a shower. Looking over the contents arranged on the long and exposed shelf under his double sink, you pull from the neatly folded white washcloths and towels stacked next to the wicker basket of Erik’s grooming items. To the left are a gang of small white candles in simple glass jars with black labels and white print. He’s got at least two of each scent.. Vanilla, Sandalwood, Egyptian Musk, Coconut Mango, and Leather. Heading back into the hall, you snatch the lighter from Erik’s bedroom drawer, lighting the Coconut Mango before carrying your body wash into the shower.
Once out, you wrap a towel around yourself carrying the candle and head to your own assigned room to lotion down and put on a tank with some small shorts to sleep in. Only suddenly, after showering you’re not ready to sleep just yet.. so you head back downstairs with the spare blanket you found in the guest room’s closet and help yourself to a yellow gatorade and some popcorn figuring you probably ought to cook something tomorrow so his groceries don’t go to waste. There’re some good ingredients in his fridge. You aren’t doing any of it tonight though.
Sitting on the couch and flipping on the TV, you get cozy under the blanket as the current commercial break ends. There’s a lady with a blunt blonde bob popping corn over the stove like she’s in the stone age. You eat a handful of your own popcorn as she picks up the phone and the voice sounds creepy.
Who the hell is she speaking to and why is she entertaining him? Wait, is that Drew Barrymore?
“Wait.. Oh hell no,” you change the channel not wanting to watch a horror movie right before bed, especially Scream.
“Nope,” you repeat suddenly a tad paranoid. Not while you’re in a bigass house in the middle of nowhere alone, like a cabin in the woods and your phone is upstairs. No ma'am, no sir. You keep flipping, sipping your gatorade.
After flipping through nonsense, however, curiosity gets the best of you and against your better judgement, you go back to Scream. You’d never actually watched it before though it was hailed as a classic.
“No he doesn’t have her doing trivia,” you snicker.
“…And he kills her boyfriend. This is crazy… He done stabbed her in the chest and choked her? That’s a little personal, he must have known her. This killer is someone she knows.”
“Dang, he must have stabbed her in the lung because she couldn’t even yell to her parents. Will he kill them too or are they not on his hit list? Her only targets teens who cook their popcorn weird.”
Shovelling more popcorn into your mouth you ignore that you’re basically her right now, choosing instead to watch the mom as she looks outside.
“Don’t tell me… Oh NO.. NO NO NO.”
When you see the body hanging, you almost turn it off but then these homicidal 90s suburban teens come on screen and each of them seem not just capable of murder, but intrigued by it. You can see this creepy film is gonna be a whodunnit. Suddenly, you’re more aware of the chill on your arms and the sounds in the house.
It’s just the house settling, you remind yourself. There’s no one out here. Erik lives away from society and that includes psychotic knife-weilding murderers.
Flu pops into your mind threatening to make you frantic, but you cast his face down immediately.
Nope… no one is out here. It’s just me and I’m okay. I’ll be okay.
The doorbell rings your heart hops into your throat. There’s an accompanying aggressive knocking on the door causing your head to snap right to face it as you sit still as possible.
Who the french toast is all the way out here at 4:40 a.m. and why?Keep it together. Find a weapon. Don’t freak out. Get up… quietly.
Again, someone knocks and you continue to stare at the door like a deer in headlights. The doorbell rings twice and your eyes widen when a feminine voice yells.
“ANSWER THE DAMN PHONE.” You listen closely. “I WILL BURN ALL THIS SHIT DOWN, KILL,” she threatens as if she’s looking for somebody.
Against your better judgment again, you pad to the door and peep through the peephole spotting a slim brown girl with long dark curly hair in a big sloppy top bun. She’s looking you dead in the eye and you have to remember that she can’t actually see you.
Looks about his type though. Exactly his type actually.
“Stop looking at me and open the door, Kill. This is business.”
With your hand on the knob, you unlock the door and pull it open to a crack. Staring at the woman in front of you, she’s about an inch taller but it’s close. She opens her mouth but her eyes widen briefly in surprise and she closes her mouth, squinting in pure bewilderment.
“Who.. are you,” she tilts her head with an pained expression that says you are way out of place and far from home. You know that already and she doesn’t need to look like that. Afterall, she’s the one banging on the door at close to 5 in the morning while you’re inside. So who’s really out of place? “Hello?”
“..That’s none of your business. Who are you and do you know what time it is?”
Her eyes are unwavering, staring you down. “It’s none of your business,” she remarks. You start to shut the door in her face, but she pushes it back open.
“His car is here. Tell him to come out.”
“He’s not here. Check back in a few days.” Rolling your eyes, you try to shut the door again and she pushes her way in going straight to the staircase.
“KILL,” she yells from the bottom. You fold your arms and glare at her until she looks your way.
“Are you done? I don’t know what you two are on, but like I said he’s not here.”
“Look, I’m not the one you wanna toy with,” she retorts, her finger twirling dismissively at you. She takes off upstairs and you follow to keep a keen eye on her, but you need to grab your phone from your room to call Erik. He answers on the second ring.
“What’s up, baby,” he mumbles.
“Why.. what you doing?”
“Taking a shit.”
You frown looking at the woman who’s standing in the doorway watching you. Her eyes narrow and her lips pout.
“There’s a woman here looking for you. She just scared the living daylights out of m-”
“You opened the door?”
“Yeah because she-”
“You don’t know who’s on the other side or what they want so why would you open the fuckin door?”
“Pause. How did this become an attack on me?”
“I’m not attacking you but if she was someone dangerous you’d be dead right now.”
“Erik, anyone out here is out here on purpose as far out into the cut as this damn house is. That means they either know you or they’re extremely lost and looking for civilization. So you tell me who dangerous is lurking around the middle of nowhere? You got evil exes to destroy?”
“KILL. ANSWER YOUR PHONE,” the woman yells from the doorway.
“You never heard of serial killers,” Erik asks. “People who be FUCKIN people up for no reason?! You don’t answer the door at 4 AM, stupid!”
“Don’t call me stupid, asshole! What do I do about this girl here staring at me. Did you not hear her screaming like an idiot-”
“I heard that shit! Tell her ass to chill the fuck out! I’ll get with her tomorrow,” Erik snaps. “Don’t be answering the door so late at night. All them damn movies you watch, you’d think you’d-”
“You’d think you’d control your damn subs! Y'all are both irking the hell out of my nerves.”
“Don’t be doing stupid shit when I’m not there to protect you. What if it were someone dangerous?”
“You so damn paranoid! I’m a ask you one last time then I’m leaving because this is some bullshit and I don’t have to take it.”
“Oh you real bold when I’m not there. Keep that energy in life and you’ll be good.” He’d just left the home of a man on staff who’d gone home early in the day before shit went down.
It seemed a bit suspect when Erik saw it on the schedule and when he was the man’s face on his scanned ID, the man looked like he could be a relative of one of the shooters, maybe a younger brother.
Erik’s hunch turned out to be right and with a gun to the guy’s nose in his sleep, he rushed out an address while begging for his life. Apparently big bro was into some shit he ain’t know about. At least that’s what he’d claimed. It could’ve been the truth. It could’ve been a lie. Erik pulled the trigger and left him there as a stain and a warning to anyone involved that they would be located and exterminated in the same manner.
“She a friend. We collab on projects,” Erik muttered closing the car door as he hopped out and started walking.
Swift wasn’t playing if she showed up on his doorstep. She never did that. She’d never had to, he was typically efficient and even quick. But this time he was fuckin up and trying to fix it. She wanted this job wrapped up.
Of course she had other shit to do and places to be that would make her money, but she was hanging around and standing by for him solely because she had a crush on him. He was very aware although she’d never admit it and he was grateful for her help and support. She was an invaluable partner, much like Rell. He hoped he’d never have to end her the same way.
“Give her the phone,” Erik softened, ignoring Y/N’s grumbling as he walked on a dirt path into a wooded region surrounded by pitch black.
“Hey,” Swift said simply. She knew not to talk in front of his subs. She’d already met Shay once and Jaliyah twice.
“You’re scaring my sub, stop that shit she’s skittish and very sensitive.”
“I was compromised and targeted,” he divulged knowing the expression she’d wear. In his mind he could see her jaw drop, the thinly veiled panic in her brown eyes. “Relax, they took out the wrong guy. I know exactly how they found me and I’m on them as we speak.”
The line went quiet and he waited for her response, standing still.
“Fine. Have fun,” she enthused finally. He knew what that coded response truly meant. Be careful.
“I’ll be fine.” She was probably thinking of coming to Texas just to back him up. She was powerful. However, he was confident in himself and finally in a space where he was thinking clearly. “I got this,” he assured her. “Go ahead to Mazatlan. I’ll hit you up when this is done. No one gets the drop on Killmonger.”
Hanging up, Erik walked carefully and quietly until he heard voices, then he moved stealthily around the clearing that was set up with a camper, fire, and lights to check out the surrounding area. From far back where he stood, there was a narrow road and a few other trailers. The main road was near, but he’d come a back way through the trees on foot. He counted four voices and they were discussing ways to get their hands on more military grade weapons. One of them had a collection of assault rifles for trade and another was looking to invest in a tank. Erik stood positioned in the woods unnoticed with his bag on the ground and 27 lb AS50 assembled and aimed once he got the visual. The AS50 had a lower recoil than his AW50 so it would be easier to hit four targets quickly. He waited a moment making sure he could actually fatally hit each target, determining that he easily could. Before anything could go wrong, he braced himself and quickly hit the trigger four times. The bodies fell and his sharp ears no longer picked up conversation.
Moving quickly to a different position with a visual, he got low. The next person to come into view got popped and fell. Going in closer to the trailers, he waited, but no one else came out.
“Fuck it,” he said after fifteen minutes. He stepped into the clearing and nudged the bodies with his foot checking for reactions and movements. Two responded. He shot them both again. The third body brought him great glee.
“Been chasing yo ass,” Erik frowned staring down. It was undoubtedly his target.. in the flesh. He was late, but he’d gotten him and now Swift could get up off his back and he could go- “Shit.."He felt a bullet go through his leg.
He fired instantly in the direction from which the bullet came and his shot went through the trailer in front of him under the cracked window. He only hoped he hit whoever it was.
Limping, he forced his hit leg to carry him into the trailer where he saw a small blonde boy on the ground bleeding out with a .40 caliber pistol in his still hand. A touch of guilt touched Erik’s heart. It was just a little kid, a kid who likely knew nothing of what was going on and had been raised in the bullshit, taught early on to shoot.. This was probably his first real gun. The little guy was probably the son of one of the five men he shot. He felt even more guilty knowing he’d taken someone’s father away like that. It probably didn’t really matter since the boy was dead now, but still… The world was a fucked up place.
Even more fucked up was the fact that he now had to go into each of the trailers and shoot whoever was holed up in each one. They were probably innocents, but he had to be thorough. No more fuck ups. He ripped a peice of material from a shirt hanging over a chair and quickly tied it around his leg under his pants. He controlled his limp moving to the next trailer finding a haggard older woman holding a little girl to keep her calm. The woman shook her head but before she could speak, Erik spoke first.
"I’m sorry,” he whispered pulling the trigger twice.
A/N: This is a side note but I’m losing my shit over this COVID stuff and while work hasn’t exploded with patients yet, I keep going to work thinking today will be the day. Anyway, writing this chapter calmed me down a little bit. Please wash your hands and stay home. Enjoy!
You and Erik were now riding back down the elevator, having left Lwazi’s body behind. A sensation of unease from knowing that you had been uprooted, yet again, settled in the pit of your stomach. Nevertheless, you remained assured. This time, you intuited that you would remain with Erik for the long run. Even better, you knew this time that you were stronger with Bast’s protection within you.
“Stay right behind me, I gotta make a few stops.” Erik ordered as you left the apartment complex behind. He was holding onto your wrist just a little too tight as he brought you along, but this time his grip was more protective than domineering; as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you’d disappear.
A/N: This chapter will give you whiplash in all honesty. And stay safe from coronavirus y’all. Wash your hands.
A whip of blinding pain and a shrill ringing in the ears jolted you back into consciousness and you opened your heavy, heavy eyelids. A familiar face glowered over you, his head tilted at an unnatural angle… No, you were horizontal, lying on the cold ground, collapsed against the wall in the hallway leading up to your client’s suite.
“Don’t even think about it.” Lwazi growled.
Your eyes refocused to look at him. The side of your head that made contact with the ground throbbed and you could feel something lukewarm and sticky seeping through your curls. Your eyes continued to go in and out of focus as you lay still, too fatigued to move. It was like you had lost control over your limbs. He had drugged you.
Lwazi was going to kill you, and likely had planned to all along. Somehow, you were not at all surprised. It had seemed all too easy for you to just leave and live comfortably in France after supposedly trying to overthrow your very own king. You just wondered why King T’Challa would even bother having you slain outside of Wakanda. He was within his jurisdiction to do whatever he wanted on his territory. It’s not as if the rumor mill was not full of stories of these off-site executions.
Maybe it was more pleasurable to do it this way, now that you had dared to grow comfortable and ease yourself into a different life. Now you had been worn down by this new day to day life, no longer had the stubborn resolve of a rebel and had presumably found new things to live for. Only now would dying be painful, now that you harbored hopes for the future.
Maybe King T’Challa was aiming to look more merciful for the public. Executing a priestess would not look good no matter how much detail they revealed about your treachery. He was the benevolent king after all, universally loved and wise. He would never harm someone he grew up with. He would never hurt you.
Lwazi squatted before you as you lay helplessly. He nudged your forehead roughly with his pointer finger and smirked.
“You really are smart, aren’t you? It’s almost as if you already know what’s going on.” He snarled in Xhosa. This was probably the longest string of words he’d spoken to you since you first met, you realized.
You didn’t respond. While your heart was pounding in your chest, the last thing you wanted was a report of how fearful you had looked as you died.
It was almost comical. The guy who looked and acted like a serial killer actually turned out to be your murderer. Sometimes people are just as suspicious as they seem. Maybe you and your father would laugh about it in the afterlife.
Your father. Would he be ashamed of you? Would he understand? Would he think you deserved to die?
At this thought, a tear escaped your eye and Lwazi’s catlike ones twinkled with glee.
“Ah, there’s that emotion I was looking for.”
As though reassured, he pulled out a small pocket knife. An ordinary weapon to end an ordinary life.
“No hard feelings. I’m just following orders.” His bemused tone said otherwise as he whispered into your ear, hot breath tickling your ear. Your skin began to crawl.
You closed your eyes, waiting for the knife to carve your skin, hoping that he’d be quick. But instead, you heard a stomach-turning crack, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the floor.
“Can’t stay out of trouble for five seconds, can ya, babygirl?”
That voice made you frantic, and you couldn’t believe your ears. But you could believe your eyes as you opened them.
“Erik?” He repeated his own name, in a mocking impression of your own voice. “The fuck are you doing here, Nkiru?”
You were at a loss for words, yet again. Where Lwazi had squatted before you, jeering at your body laid on the ground, Erik now stood. Behind him, you could see Lwazi was motionless. Dead. In mere seconds. Now it was not an issue of distorted perspective; your would-be killer’s neck bent at an odd angle, obviously broken, his eyes still open in shock. The sight of it brought a salty and sour taste in your mouth, and you fought the urge to dry heave. You looked away, unable to turn your head, now that you were paralyzed.
“Get off the floor.” He ordered.
He rolled his eyes and reached down to lift you, but was thrown back by the opposing wall by a glowing purple light. Your protective barrier you had once generated before, late but ever present, enveloped you in a brilliant sphere.
Erik grimaced in pain as he slumped down onto his backside, ready to shout expletives at you, but his mouth hung open as he watched you suddenly burst into hot tears.
“Stay the fuck away, you… you monster!”
Helpless, laying on the ground, having to accept a pity rescue from the very man who ruined your life… it was all too much. Your childhood crush, or role model, or something in between, now trying to kill you all because of this man. Living in exile because of this man. Your father dying because of this man. Having to answer to a goddess that will not give you clear directions because of this man.
Erik actually looked… upset? You didn’t care.
“Was I supposed to say thank you for the daring rescue?” You spat. A fire was rising in your body and you felt it surge through your arms and legs. You rose to your feet.
Hot and breathless and full of rage, you stepped towards him, your sphere shrinking until the glow wrapped around you like a wrap, now red and searing.
“Do you think this makes us even, N’Jadaka?” You stressed his name like it was a curse word.
He looked at you in terrifying awe. For the first time since you had ever met him, Erik looked… afraid.
You were now glowering over him, your faces just inches apart. Hands balled into fists, jaw clenched, hair almost up in flames like the rest of your body. You were ready to kill.
Erik’s eyes met your furious gaze. You wished he would say something smart. You wanted to rip him apart, you were now sure you could. You wanted him to give you just one more reason. Just one more.
Do it. Tear him apart. I would lend you all my strength, the warlike queen sang into your ears.
The trickster gold glint in Erik’s eyes seemed to fade as he stared into yours. You only saw red and you wanted to see more red. You wanted to see his body as broken as Lwazi’s neck was right now, as broken as your heart was.
He’d broken you, but the last straw was today. It wasn’t all he had done while in Wakanda. It was the simple fact that he stood before you today, without warning, and out of nowhere. It was the fact that you had sought to understand him, and he abandoned you, only to reappear before you to save what meager remains of a life you had left, just so he could scatter those scraps too.
You sat on your haunches before him. You liked the way his back pressed further into the distressed wall behind him, bracing himself for whatever you planned to do next. You liked that for once, he was afraid of what you would do.
“I. will. not. let. you. destroy. me.” You seethed.
Erik had run out of smart things to say. He continued to match your gaze. His eyes lowered to your lips, then up to your eyes again, softer this time.
“I’m going to kill you before you kill me, Erik N’Jadaka Stevens.”
Erik moved suddenly, so suddenly that you swatted at his face in defense, but he caught your wrist before you could make contact. You could see him wince in pain from the contact of the skin of his palm and your red-hot skin.
Then he pressed his lips to yours.
Your heart, previously pounding like a talking drum, almost slowed to a stop, and you could feel your offenses and defenses failing you embarrassingly fast. Your body cooled rapidly like you’d been doused in ice water, then seemed to warm up again, like you were being reset. The throb in your head vanished, and now your head felt light as though you couldn’t breathe.
Erik pulled you in with his other arm so that you straddled him, your knees touching the wall behind him. Off guard, you pulled away for a second, looking at him in shock, waiting for an explanation.
“I missed you.” He said plainly, and pressed his lips to yours a second time. This time, your lips parted for him and you let his arms wrap around your waist to kiss you more deeply. This time, you allowed yourself to feel his embrace and inhale of his scent.
“How did you know where I was this whole time?” You said, breathlessly once you pulled apart.
“I didn’t.” He responded. You didn’t understand, but again your lips met and suddenly you no longer needed to understand.
All in due time.
The villain of the story, the one who had ruined your life among countless others, now embraced you hungrily, like a beggar at a feast. After you had threatened to kill him. After he had actually killed someone, and said someone laid in a broken mess just a couple feet away from your make out session.
He was not off the hook yet. He’d have to answer for his crimes.
All in due time.
(had to repost because i lost all of my text somehow)
Shoutout to all the fan fiction writers for continuous new content. We’re all facing challenging times right now. Thank you for sharing your amazing work that keeps our minds at bay, and away from depressing headlines. You guys are truly appreciated. Sending positivity and love to each and every one of you.
Erik x black thicc/plussized!reader - cute lil scenario with ya man
Over 600 words!
“Erik does this dress make me look fat?” You twirled around to show him the dress you had bought a year ago for this occasion.
You thought it would be less fitting, but you had gained a little bit of weight since dating Erik.
E was one of those men who loved to take you out and spoiled you. Whether it be the movies, festivals, carnivals, vacations, different conferences. He wanted to live with you. It was cliché but he said you made him the happiest man on Earth. You helped him become optimistic again.
Taking you to all these different places meant meeting family, friends, coworkers, and also trying different foods. That was definitely an issue since you weren’t a woman that was extremely picky or only ate salad. Too bad your weight had to suffer as a result.
You weren’t a size 6 or even a size 8 to begin with, but now you were more “fluffy” than you had wanted to be. So you really had to do something about this eventually.
“Erik.” You said as you twisted and turned in the mirror in front of you, trying to find the right angle to be satisfied with your newfound curves.
‘Maybe I can just stick to something light tonight.’ You thought as you smoothed the black dress over your thicker assets in the mirror, awaiting his answer.
“Huh?” He said distracted on his phone from his side of the bed. His back was to you.
He had been glued to that damn phone for the past few days, playing some stupid, new game he found in the app store.
Usually, he would be extremely vocal as you dressed for date night, so much to the point he would talk you out of your clothes. 15-20 minutes later and you guys were running late.
You waited 5 seconds before you sighed and placed your hands on each side of your soft hips. “Erik…so help me God, if you don’t answer me. I swear I'll–”
“You’ll what? You ain’t gonna do shit.” He said before he turned to you, ready to tease.
Fortunately for you, that came back to bite him in the ass.
You watched in the mirror, seeing his mouth hang slightly open in shock as his eyes scanned your body in the form-fitting dress. Your chest was more on display in this dress than you would’ve liked, but you couldn’t wear a bra with it. It wouldn’t look right.
“Shit.” He cursed, staring in awe. He dropped his phone on the bed and stood up, walking around the bed and over to you. You could feel your cheeks warm up as a large smile spread across your face.
This how he got you every time.
“You know we could stay here instead.” He proposed, coming behind you to rub over each of your shoulders to coax you. “Cuz you know I'mma eat good…” He growled in your ear as his lips brushed your ear lobe. Your mind began to encapture thoughts of him fucking you with that long, skilled tongue of his. You could feel your stomach clench as you began to get more turned on by the second.
“Erik. I really want to go out though.” You playfully whined, turning around to face him. You played with the hem of his suit jacket as you looked at him with sincerity. He looked on in the same manner.
“And I really want you out that dress.” He licked his lips and gave you a long kiss. You returned it and leaned in closer. As you pressed against him, he enclosed his arms around you to kiss to deeper.
You had been dating Erik for a while and thought everything was great. He was rough around the edges, but overall he was a good boyfriend. Loyal, mostly sweet and playful. Maybe not husband material, but he was who you wanted in your life right now. Every aspect of your relationship was positive…except for one part.
You hadn’t went all the way with him– sexually speaking.
You had amazing chemistry as a couple and you knew that sex with him would be mind-blowing.
You were supportive of people waiting until the right person or until marriage, but that wasn’t you. You desired sex and with Erik. You were patient up until this point, but needed real answers. So you decided to ask him.
“Baby, I’ve been wondering…” You trailed off, chopping up some peppers for the meal you were preparing.
“Huh?” He answered, walking into the kitchen and going straight to your fridge for a drink.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that he only wore black sweatpants that hung at his hips to subtly show his v-line and the gold chain with his late father’s ring hanging around his neck. His built torso and scars exposed to the cool air. They were something to get used to, although, they were interesting and felt strangely soothing when you two cuddled.
You’d never seen any type of keloid show up on someone’s body simply due to killing someone. You had only heard of such thing labeled as tribal scarification in African History as a means to distinguish African warriors.
It alarmed you when Erik had told you on one of your first dates since you kept glancing at them. You should have ended the date there, but you went against your gut and carried on dating Erik.
It seemed to make an impression on him that you stuck around.
You opened your mouth to finish your question, but he stopped you before you could start.
“Hol’ up.” He said as he opened a Gatorade, taking a long sip.
Clearly, he had made himself at home at your place, leaving clothes and miscellaneous items around the apartment. It warmed your heart to know he was so comfortable with you, but that didn’t explain why he wasn’t comfortable having sex with you.
He finished his sip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Okay, wassup?” He asked, placing his bottle back in the fridge.
“Why can’t you–” You cut yourself off and sighed, suddenly getting discouraged.
“Nevermind…it’s stupid. ”
“Nah, what’s wrong?” He pried, immediately coming up to hug you from behind.
“I just want to understand. Why won’t you make love to me?” You questioned, cutting the vegetables slower. He took a deep breath and sighed, seeming hesitant to answer.
“Why you askin’? ” He nuzzled your neck for reassurance, but it wasn’t working.
You stopped prepping the food and put down the knife. You turned your soft body to completely face him. You could feel the back of your eyes starting to burn as tears welling up. Maybe he didn’t want to be completely intimate because a part of you disgusted him. You weren’t as slim like the Instagram models he probably follows.
“I’m not skinny. I don’t wear 00 pants. I don’t have a thigh gap. I don’t have a 26 inch waist. I have fucking stretch marks and a belly. Is that why you won’t have sex with me?” He responded by his right hand going down to your hip, softly gripping it in minor irritation.
He searched your face for sincerity and to his surprise, you were serious.
“Baby, listen. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Beyond beautiful, inside and out. Your beauty is one reason it’s hard for me to stay away and keep my hands off you. Off this especially…” He trailed off, kissing the corner of your mouth as his left hand rubbed your backside before giving it a light smack.
“I always wanna feel you in some way. I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want to see you bouncin’ on my dick though.”
You chuckled and felt at ease slightly, but you needed more of an answer.
“But WHY can’t you act on those feelings? Answer that question for me.” You asked, more firmly.
A scoff left his mouth just as fast as his touch. The air conditioning immediately made you miss his warm body as air breezed through your lavender silk robe.
“Why the fuck does it matter?” He mumbled before walking into your living room.
You heard him flop on the couch and turn up the volume on your television. He was done.
But the conversation wasn’t over as far as you were concerned. How dare he dismiss you like what you had to say was unimportant. Fuck that. You needed to make sure he understood you.
You marched into the room and stood in front of him to snatch the remote from his grasp.
“Hey! I was watchin’ that!” You turned the TV off and threw your remote in the opposite chair, across from the sofa.
Before anything else was said, Erik stood up. Glowering down at you. Challenging you while trying to silently understand what the hell was your problem.
“Y/N, what the hell wrong with you?!” He yelled, frustrated.
“You are what’s wrong with me! You’re not listening.” You bit back, pointing at his chest and pushing his chest to make him flop back on the couch.
You didn’t give a damn if he was mad. He would be alright.
“Just tell me why and I’ll leave you alone.” You pleaded angrily, crossing your arms under your silk covered chest.
That simple action caused Erik to glance at your breasts. The silk made them look more pronounced, fuller. Not to mention, your nipples were hard under the fabric.
You didn’t really care, but you cared that Erik noticed it.
He only responded how any young man would…licking his lips like a hungry predator watching his unsuspecting prey.
He grinned slyly at you. Knowing the game you were playing.
“It’s complicated. I wanna do so many things to you…” He admitted, sitting up straight on the couch.
“Nigga, isn’t that a part of sex? I’m not seeing the problem.” You sassed, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“It is, but the one thing I want to do to you is kinda wild.”
“That’s what I want. The sensible you. The wild you. I just want all of you.” Your hands met the small ridged marks on his chest as you pushed him to sit back. You lifted your legs slowly, one by one, to straddle him.
“Please, Erik.” You begged, adjusting your hips to settle on his fabric-covered dick. Your fingers went down to the hem of his sweats, playing with the white drawstring.
His chest rose and fell as his breathing quickened. His hands brushed your plush thighs before cupping each ass cheek of yours. You rocked your hips slowly as you leaned in to kiss him passionately. He returned the kiss and was eager to use tongue. You quickly allowed, earning a few groans from him as your kisses became heated.
After a few moments, he pulled away. You whimpered, wanting his tongue back in your mouth.
“I’m crazy as shit, Y/N. That’s the reason.” He breathily said as his dilated eyes met yours.
“So am I–”
“Not my type of crazy…” He ominously grinned before leaning in to leave soft-lipped pecks at your jaw. You smiled, entertained by the idea of what could be his crazy, unorthodox way of thinking. You were curious.
“Well, what is your crazy then?” You sensually questioned, going back to play with the drawstring of his sweats.
“So many damn questions…” He chuckled darkly and gripped you tighter. His hands slowly dug into your supple ass, pushing you into him more. More onto his hard-on.
He wanted to keep you right there.
You moaned in response to the increasing pain and without much thought, wound your hips for friction. Your arms went around his neck for support and he shifted his hips to satisfy your growing need.
“Do you get strange urges like I do?” His deeper, lust-coated voice took you by surprise. You felt yourself becoming wet at his tone and opened your mouth to answer, but bit your lip instead to keep quiet as he spoke.
“Like right now, I want you tremblin’ under me, my hand ‘round your throat, squeezing just enough as I fuck you senseless.” He proclaimed, your bottom lip coming between his teeth as he lightly tugged before letting go.
“Maybe I’ll get another scar this time.” A mischievous gaze met your curious eyes. Scars?
“Erik…I thought you only got those scars if- if-”
“You think all these scars are from just killin’ people? Oh babygirl, some of these are from killin’ pussy too.”
A rush of heat surged through you, making you feel weak and strong all at once. Those words. His words did something and ignited a fiery passion within you.
“Well, do it then…” You provoked as you bucked your hips once more. He took that as a command and hooked his hands under your legs, lifting you off of him to playfully throw you onto your couch.
You sunk into the soft cushions and adjusted so your head was on the armrest, your body now across the sofa. A devious smile crept onto your face as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening. After all this time, your man was going to beat your pussy up.
“You got me losing my got-damn mind over you.”
He turned to climb over top of you to open your legs up and come in-between them. He undid the ribbon of your robe and pulled back the fabric, revealing your unclad chest. Your nipples hard from the palpable sexual tension and exposed air. The only undergarment you had on was your matching silk panties.
Those would soon be gone.
Erik scanned over your body, taking in every bump, curve and stretch mark. He loved every inch of you.
“So beautiful..damn..” he whispered, more so to himself.
It was like he didn’t know where to start. His mind most likely running frantic, almost like a child figuring out a new, complex toy.
You looked at him the same. Your smooth hands massaged his forearms, feeling the peaked scars. It was a perfect contrast, much like you and him.
“I don’t think ya ass prepared for what I’m 'bout to give you.” He cockily spoke before kissing your lower abdomen. His thumb fell to your clothed clit to check how wet you were for him, making you groan in anticipation.
He leaned down to your belly button, tracing the ring of your belly button with his tongue before dipping into it once. You closed your eyes in bliss at the fascinating feeling. He thumbed your clit again, causing you to tense up in pleasure. Instinctively, your legs began to close around him, but he grasped your thick thighs.
“Keep ya fuckin’ legs open.” His voice rang through your ears in a growled demand.
“Yes, d–” Your breath hitched as his cool lips trailed up your waist to the valley of your breasts. You closed your eyes and melted under his touch, his fingers hooking the waistband of your underwear. You lifted your hips for him to yank down your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor.
Fondling your breasts, you pinched your bottom lip in the middle of your teeth as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. You needed him.
He mentally absorbed the sight of you. It only inflated his ever-growing ego as his deviant grin showing two gold canines gleamed back at you.
“Allat behavior. Ain’t nobody teach you no decency?” He teased as he scooted down, getting better access to your now aching core. You shook your head 'no’ at his question.
“Well that’s too bad. I'mma have to teach you how to behave…” He tsked. You couldn’t react as he wasted no time taking you in his mouth, not giving a fuck if you were ready or not.
And I oop 👀…
(Send me requests too via my asks!) -> if you want
A/N: I’m sorry for how long this took to get out you guys. This is my first time writing Dadmonger and I’m a little nervous. I hope y’all enjoy it. As always please like, comment, and reblog.
‘I should be up by now.’ Erik thought to himself. He sighed lowly and continued staring at the ceiling like he had been doing for the past hour. He should be sitting in his office prepping for the meeting he had at 10, but he isn’t. He’s at home, in bed, lying comfortably next to his favorite person in the world. Now, in his defense, he really did try to go to work this morning. He had woken up late, a little after 8, which never happens. He’s usually up well before 6, but this morning the sensors in his brain seemed to malfunction this morning. When he finally woke up he managed to, begrudgingly, pull himself out of bed to complete his morning routine. He emptied his bladder, brushed his teeth, and showered all in less than 20 minutes. He got dressed and made his way to his car, where he sat for about 15 minutes before going back into the house, trading his clothes for a pair of basketball shorts and crawling back into bed. So, yeah. He really did try but for some reason he just couldn’t do it.
A/N: Hey, friends! This is my first time writing for Erik so drag me if need be lol. It’s just a quick imagine that I needed to get out since I was feeling lonely today. Let me know what you think! Love y’all; Happy Thanksgiving!
You were stirred out of your sleep by the alarm on your phone. 8:30 pm. It was the day before thanksgiving and after prepping all morning, you decided to treat yourself to a nap. Cooking, prepping, and generally being awake was exhausting around this time of year.
Every Thanksgiving was the same with your family; you’d plan everything by yourself, set the table by yourself, and force people to cook with you. Everyone wanted to eat but no one everyone wanted to help. You always felt alone, even when you were at the dinner table surrounded by family. Be it seasonal depression or a lack of holiday committment from your family, you were sure you were done with the holiday season. But not this year. This year, you had Erik.
Here you were a year and a half into your relationship, staying with him and his family in Wakanda. It took you a while to get used the to the new scenery; and the fact that you were dating a fomerly lost prince.
“Yo, cakes, you up yet?! I heard your alarm go off,” you heard the prince yell from across the room. You groaned in response, hiding your face in your pillow.
Erik stripped the covers of the bed and smacked your mostly bare ass.
“Erik,” you yelped,” why do you have to be so rough, damn!”
“I’m sorry, cakes, but you gotta get up; we got cooking to do,” he said, sitting next to you.
You sat up and pouted as he rubbed your leg.
“Daddy, I’m tired-“
“No, don’t ‘daddy’ me; unless you tryna get fucked right now, I suggest you get your cute ass up and follow me to kitchen,” Erik said sternly.
“Firstly, I’m always tryna get fucked,” you stated, smiling. He laughed, shaking his head.
“You’re a fool. Come on, y/n.” He said kissing your lips softly.
After putting on a onesie and taking off your bonnet, you followed Erik to the kitchen. His cousins Shuri and T’Challa were already in there, doing there best at following the instructions Erik had given them. Even queen-mother was helping; mixing the ingredients for the sweet potato pie.
“Goodmorning, sis,” Shuri yelled,” I see my cousin has decided to wake you up the proper way.” You tried your best to keep your laugh in but once she started, so did you.
“Fuck that supposed to mean?” Erik chided, mean mugging her from across the kitchen. Shuri shrugged her shoulders as she continued to peel the softened sweet potatoes.
“Nothing,” you giggled, rubbing his arms as he cut up some vegetables.
You love the way his scarred biceps looked in a tight white tshirt; the apron he wore was even more excruciatingly sexy than it needed to be and you knew you’d have a hard time focusing.
“You make food prep hella sexy, N’Jadaka,” you whispered. His gold fangs flashed as he smiled.
“You better stop playing before I take you to the bathroom, y/n,” Erik said, biting his lip.
“Alright, alright, put me in coach.”
“Aight, go help T with the mac and cheese. Then come back over here and you can mix the turkey drippings into the dressing; got it, cakes?” You nodded as Erik instructed you then went over to gather the cheeses to help T’Challa.
“Why do you call y/n ‘cakes’?” T’Challa asked innocently. You laughed quietly, placing the cheeses next to T’Challa’s workspace.
“Nigga, you don’t see all that cake she got? Matter fact, nevermind; I don’t need you looking.” Erik said, shaking his head.
“N’Jadaka, please do not discuss y/n in that matter while we are cooking,” Ramonda reprimanded.
“My bad, auntie,” Erik said shooting T’Challa an incredulous look.
“It’s okay, T. It’s an AAVE term,” you consoled him.
“It means she has a big ass,” Shuri said nonchalantly.
“Shuri, what did I just tell your cousin?!” Ramonda yelled.
After putting the mac and cheese in the oven and mixing the dressing, you headed to the dining hall to see how the tablescape was coming along. You took your time at each seat, adjusting and folding the napkins and place settings.
“Is everything to your liking, y/n?”
You looked up to see the queen-mother looking at you lovingly.
“Everything is so beautiful, queen-mother. I’m elated to be here. Everything and everyone is so open and warm and inviting,” you said as she took a seat next to you. She placed her hand on yours, smiling warmly.
“I’m glad you feel safe enough to share this holiday with us. You’ve brought such happiness with you. Especially to N’Jadaka; this means a lot to him,” Ramonda noted.
“Here me when I say this, Y/N; you are filling a void in his heart that no one ever could. For so long he was lost and isolated; even after the challeneg had commenced he never celebrated like this until you. His love for you is so apparrent, he practically floats into the room when you are by his side,” Ramonda said, laughing. You laughed as well, looking down at your hand.
“Thank you for keeping him happy. I appreciate you. May your love span a thousand years. I will you see you for the festivities tomorrow; good night my dear,” she sighed, squeezing your hand.
“Good night, queen-mother.”
You heard Erik’s alarm go off at 6am and groaned. You felt him stir beneath you and you held on to him tighter.
“Baby, I gotta go check the food,” he yawned, rubbing your back.
“It can wait,” you said, yawning in response.
“I’ll bring you back a taste,” Erik bribed.
And with that, you rolled off of him with a quickness, causing him to chuckle. You drifted back to sleep for what felt like 5 seconds before Erik shook you awake. Once you sat up, he handed you a plate of dressing, a small piece of slow cooked pork, and a fork. You practically went to heaven as you took your first bite.
“Damn.. I still got it,” you moaned, silently congratulating yourself on how well seasoned the dressing was. Erik walked around to his side of the bed and shuffled through his drawer.
“If you’re looking for your kimoyo beads, you left them on the bathroom counter,” you informed him with your mouth full of dressing. You looked up to see him staring at you with his hands behind his back. He shuffled side to side and rolled his shoulders; it was telling. Erik usually did this when he was nervous. Or if he was about to ask you a favor.
“Alright, what you want?” you asked him.
“Damn, y/n, why you always think I want something? Why you gotta be like that?” He was stalling. But for what?
“Boy, stop playing and tell me what you want!” You watched as he knelt before you with a small black box in his hand.
“Aight then, cakes, I’ma tell you what I want. I want to spend every Thanksgiving and Christmas with you. I want to wake up knowing you’ll be next to me every morning. I want you to mother my children and help me put them in they place when they fuck up. I want to love you until the end of my days and that’s all I wanted since I first laid eyes on you in that record store; with your pretty brown eyes lighting up at the sight of that old ass Earth, Wind, & Fire vinyl. I want you, y/n, and only you. Forever.”
You watched with teary eyes as he opened the tiny black velvet box that held a black opal ring; lined with diamonds and vibranium scalloping. You placed your plate of food on the end table and reached forward to hold Erik’s face in your hands.
“I need to hear it. I need you to ask me, E,” you cried softly.
“Y/N, will you be my wife?” Erik asked, searching your eyes for an answer.
“Yes, N’Jadaka; I will be your wife til the end of time!” You were full on crying now, kissing all over his face as he struggled to hold in his emotions.
“Cakes, you gone let this stay in the box or..,” he trailed off, chuckling as you showered him with kisses. You held out your hand and he slid the ring onto your finger.
“There you are, Mrs. Stevens,” he smirked, wiping the tears that had fell on his face. You kissed his full lips passionately, wanting to savor every moment.
“I love you, N’Jadaka,” you hummed.
“I love you more, cakes,” Erik said, kissing from your cheek to your neck. You heard a knock and the door cracked open to reveal Shuri smiling giddly.
“Good, she said yes! I was beginning to think you had chickened out,” Shuri noted, clapping her hands.
“Nigga, you couldn’t have waited like I told you to? I’m tryna have a moment here, damn,” Erik berated.
“Aye, be glad I kept your secret til now; you were taking too long! I almost told her!” Shuri yelled in her defense. You laughed as you kissed your fiance’s cheek; taking in the banter of your soon to be family.
Summary: Erik and you meet up at an unlikely location.
Pairing: Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens X Black!Reader
Warning: oral sex & fluff.
BTW: i really wasn’t planning on continuing this series. i kinda fell out of love with it, but then i reread my work and it made me want to write all over again lol. i’ll try not to take so long with writing these next few parts :/. enjoy and sorry for any typos!
Erik’s attention was momentarily pulled from the game as Aaron questioned him. Him and his boys had been in the house for most of the day, deciding to meet up and chill since they didn’t have shit else to do on a Saturday. It was Erik’s day off at Acuity Brands where he was the lead data engineer, Lo had pulled a double shift to get the day off and Aaron didn’t know the definition of a job, so it was a unanimous decision to link up.
“Chill with that broad shit man, she got a name.”
“Well you won’t tell us her name, so what the fuck else are we supposed to call her?” Lo replied, his head still stuck in his phone as he watched some rap battle on Twitter.
“Y'all ain’t got to know her name, just know it ain’t broad. Have some respect.”
Aaron gave Lo a look in which Lo returned, before they both busted out laughing. Erik sat back, unamused by the two men. They had been questioning him since they got to his crib about the new girl he had been seen walking home a few times. He should’ve known niggas on the block couldn’t mind their damn business. It’s not that he had a problem with people seeing you with him, he just didn’t want others knowing about what he had going on or trying to get to know you. You were the only thing in his life that he didn’t have to share. When it came to his job, he shared that with his co-workers and uptight boss. When it came to his apartment, he shared that with the few close friends he had. When it came to you .. you were his. Not in the sense of you being his girl or anything like that, but he appreciated the fact that he was the only person you really knew here besides your Uncle and classmates. He was the one that got to walk you home, take you to all the dope mom and pops shops and show you the hidden foot spots around Harlem. The last thing he wanted was you getting close to someone else because then he’d be on the back burner. No longer would you need him to walk you home and he wouldn’t be able to see your face light up when he showed you something new due to someone else beating him to it. He’d be damned if that happened. His eyes shifted over to Aaron doing a broke down version of the woah and Lo hyping him up, especially not these niggas.
- reclamation series, lost and driven series (erik x oc)- @avfug
- with love wakanda prompt fic, erik and reader discover they both have deceased fathers with the same death date, nothing easy to please (awkward!erik x oc), there’s something they’re not telling us (erik x oc)- @bidibidibombaclaat-
- song of stevens series, fictober 28. i felt that. you know what i mean. (and really good erik oc fics too), king kill’mawals, n’jadaka’s helpful hands, santa can’t bring me what i need (with mbaku and t’challa, fictober 26. but if you can’t see it, is it really there?- @eerythingisshaka
- let’s talk about sex series, teach me series, when your mad series, waffles series, spoiled little brat series, slow ride seris, movie night series, mines, thunderstorn; girl, fuck you; eat your breakfact, secret admirer, amusement park fun, displays of affection, night at the movies, silent heartbeats series, worship, loving the way you love it, day drunk, smile for me daddy, breeding kink, just like you, we goin to hell, in the cut, kissing strangers series- @thehomierobbstark
- nerd, erik killmonger headcanons, on the run, before we have to let go, erik’s girl, eyes watching god, she’s mine pt. 1-, black panther trinity parent drabbles (with t’challa and m’baku)- @black-mcu-imagines
- dating series, possessive, kiwi series, i wanna marry you, quit series, fast car series, - @wtfnegan
- dustiest corner in harlem series, just take the ring, more than talk, tell me, hell of a feeling - @sweettea-and-honeybutter
- cater 2 you, it’s been a minute, stereotypes series, you’re mine, angst erik, collegeboi!erik fic, (all you need, try me, sneaky, watch your mouth- all part of a lil series), baby girl and her daddy- @boldmellowtastemaker
- prey series, big mad, earth dy, leaving, ride or die, the grace of kings series and it’s prompts(erik x oc), she who,walks in the sea series (erik x oc), ritual (erik x oc), late (erik x oc), a boy (erik x his mom), sing of helen series (erik x oc)- @hoopshoney
Who do y’all wanna see in my next fic? I’ve been reading this book and it’s so raunchy 😭 I thought it was just a romantic book but this shit IS FILTHY. With that being said, it will be smut. I’ve been getting ideas about lately but I don’t know if I wanna do it for Erik, Trevante, or someone entirely new. Let me know though.
Also, this is my tag list so far. If you want to be added please explicitly tell me to add you, I don’t wanna add you and you don’t even wanna be on the list :)