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rimaiahwrites · 8 months

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Our secret part 2

Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom × sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/Ig themes but it's never addressed as dd/lg

It was y/n 19th birthday and all her friends and family were over to celebrate her day!

She was Beyond excited, everything was falling perfectly into plan.

Her birthday theme were lemons, there was lemons literally everywhere. She had a Lemon cake, yellow tablecloths and of course for drinks there was lemonade, and to top it all off she had on a cute white princess cut dress with yellow lemons over over it! She had retired the two puffs and settled for one big afro with a cute yellow Ruben tied around her head, She had light makeup and her lips were glossed and shiny.

She and her best friends dance and Sang along to the lyrics coming from the speaker loudly. Her mother laughed and quickly grabbed the camera- "smile guys!" She told the girls. Y/n put on a big smile and posed.

After dancing and singing their lungs out she were winded and tired. She huffed out air. It was extremely hot out today "I'll be back guys." She told her friends and walked back into her kitchen. Her bare feet slapping against the cold floors.

She could hear her dad and his friends from in the living room watching the game, the smell of beers and the sound of her dads laugher brought a since of comfort.

She grabbed a glass of lemonade and chucked it down... As she did so her mind began to wonder off to her brother...where was he? He was here earlier but he disappeared out of nowhere. A couple of his friends were supposed to come too maybe they had all went to the neighborhood park to play basketball like usual she thought.

Speaking of his friends she was a little bummed that Erik wasn't in town. He had went off to college two years ago and she haven't seen or heard from him since last summer when he had spent the summer with her family.. she thought about him a lot, maybe a bit to much.

"Y/n!" Her brother called from the kitchen door, shirt off and dripping with sweat. Speak of the devil. She crunched her face and plugged your nose shut. "Gross."

"Shut up, who's outside." He asked. She slightly rolled her eyes. "My friends a few of mom friends and mom, don't go out there until you take a shower you reek." She said and fake gagged yourself.

"Alright alright, Get off me I'm going but their someone outside on the porch that wants to see you." He said as he set the ball down and jogged up stairs to freshen up. She were froze for a second. Is it who she thinks it it? Her heart started thumping hard as she shakily set her glass down and pushed herself to walk to the front door. She opened the door and was face to face with the big 6'0 boy- or man now that she had fallen in love with over two summers of sneaky kisses and touches.

Her cheeks grow hot as she walk through the door and shut it.

He towered over her even more now then before. He still smelled good, and for the most part still looked the same...except he grow facial hair. She was shocked.

"Hi Erik!" She squealed as she jumped to hug him. He caught her and squeeze her back as he chuckled.

"Wassup lil mama, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you." He said as he set her back on her feet and kissed her on her cheek, making her stomach flutter. "I missed you too! You left us to go back to that bougie college." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes jokily. He chuckled. "I know I know I should've came to visit earlier but I was busy you know how it is-" Erik explain before he was cut off be the girl sitting on the porch swing that y/n had completely missed and didn't notice at all. Y/n frown and turned her big brown eyes back to Erik, he bit his lip nervously.

"Oh yeah my bad, Vanessa this is y/n, y/n this is my girlfriend Vanessa." Erik said smiling at the both of them. Her heart slowly sank as her smile softened to almost a frown before she put on a fake cheerful smile.

His girlfriend?

"Hi..." she shyly said to Vanessa before looking back at Erik with sad eyes.

Vanessa glanced at Erik as well but more confused then anything. Erik chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um well it's nice to meet you y/n and happy birthday! Time moves fast I still remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday!" Vanessa laughed, making Erik laugh as well.

Obviously It was only three years ago more then likely...

"Thanks...Um I'm about to go in...I'll see you guys later." She said as she back away.

"Actually I'm staying the week with your bother!" Her face dropped once again. Not only today but the whole week? Great fucking great.

"Oh well is Vanessa staying here too?" She said playing with the end of her dress. She had to ask cause if so she would try to stay at one of her friends house or maybe even at her grandmas.

"No, her family live here too she's going to stay at her aunts place." She hummed in response before Turning around and going back into the house.

"She's...weird." Vanessa said scrunching her face. "Chill, she's just not used to new people plus nobody told her you were coming to her birthday party." Erik said as bit annoyed with Vanessas comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back down as they wait for her bother to come back down.

As she walked back into the kitchen her eyes were glossy and red. She didn't want to cry she really didn't but the tears were forming and her throat was starting to feel tight.

Her birthday was going good why did he have to ruin it.

After she opened her gifts, ate her cake and cleaned up it was time to go to bed.

Her friends had went home and she tried her best to pretend like Erik and Vanessa wasn't there but Erik just kept on talking to her so it was bad to be mad at him but it hurt so bad to watch him and his girlfriend be so playful with each other and all lovely. She sat on his lap the whole time and it was eating her up inside. She was jealous and weren't very sure if she should be but she couldn't help it.

Erik was her first love.

Y/n parents and brother had all went to bed hours ago, it was now 1:25 in the morning and her stomach ached from being empty.

Y/n got up and put on her slippers, pulled her night gown down over her butt and stepped out of the room, closing her door softly.

She snuck down stairs and made her way to the kitchen. pouring herself some of the lemonade that her mom had made earlier.

"Why you up so late little one?" You heard from the door frame making you jumped spilling your juice down your soft pink gown. Y/n frowned looking down at her gown. "Don't worry about it, you ain't my daddy." She hissed pouring the rest of the lemonade in the sink. Erik's eyebrows raised a slight smirk on his face. "I see you got a mouth on you now huh?" Her face didn't move from the frown. She definitely didn't find anything amusing about this right now.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she made her way towards him to leave the kitchen...but he stayed in place.

"Move."

"I'm just trying to talk to you princess why you being so mean to me? I haven't see you in so long." She cross her arms across her chest. Now was not the time. "Erik move I don't want to talk."

"is it because of Vanessa? You jealous?" He chuckled. He thought this was funny clearly. She was hurt because of him and here he is laughing at her, right in her face.

She tore her eyes from his looking at the other side of the kitchen as the tears came filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Th-that's funny to you? Erik you hurt my feelings and you think it's funny? What the fuck is wrong with you? You played with my feelings and made it seem like you l-...loved me Erik," she said choking on her words now looking at him.

hot tears streaming down her face now. Erik's face dropped when he saw her tears. "Y/n, princess.." he sighed looking at her through his eyelashes, she hated that she thought he looked so cute right now and the way that the little pet name he gave her a couple years back still made her tummy feel warm and tingly...It all started with a silly game to this...

"baby you know we can't be together, I'm away in my second year of college and you haven't even graduated high school yet, you my best friends little sister I can't date you-"

"But you can fuck me right? Is that all I am to you? Just a fuck doll-"

"No no princess-"

"Stop calling me that!" You whispered yelled at him pocking him in the chest.

"You were just using me because I was naïve! Erik you made it seem like you actually liked me...like you loved me! You told me nothing would change when you went to college but then showed up to my birthday party with a girlfriend I had no idea about!" Her tears still streaming down her face. Erik really had nothing to say, she left him speechless, but what could he even say?

"I guess it is partly my fault also for being so stupid to even think you would like me like that huh?" Erik so badly wanted to tell her how he felt but it would only cause more damage and leave her thinking y'all could be more then what they were, in the end she would only get her hopes up again and end up with her feelings hurt.

He so badly wanted to grab her and Comfort you.

"Good night Erik." She pushed past him and headed back up stairs.

Y/n grabbed her teddy bear off her bed and crawled into her Secret room, shutting the door behind her. She turned on her fairy lights and it lit up the small room just enough. She snuggled into her blankets, and cried. She cried her little heart out.

Who would have known her brothers best friend would be the reason for her broken heart.

Why did he have do this to her on her birthday at that...

The day was soured all because he didn't even consider her feelings nor seem like he cared in the slightest.

He had that girl smiling all in her face like he wasn't fingering fucking her all last summer, sharing sweet kisses and cuddles, like he was sharing deep parts of his past to her. Her heart ached so badly that she had to grab it tightly as she cried into her teddy, this wasn't fair.. this wasn't fair at all she shouldn't be crying right now but she felt so betrayed by someone that showed her how to love, how to make love, how to feel loved..

She sank deeper into her comforter and let out soft gut wrenching sobs.

Her first heart break was her big brothers best friend, how naive of her.

this not the end yall im gonna write a part three ❤️

for some reason I thought I finished this and posted it already. also I'm way more active on tumblr so if you wanna follow I'll love that, I'm going to be writing about a few of my favorite anime characters too so if you fucking with that follow @rimaiahwrites !!

P.s I still have a deep love for writing yall and wanna finish these projects but life been LIFE'N THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS IM SORRY 😭❤️

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fic #erik x oc #dom x sub #killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #killmonger x oc #killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger fanfiction #king killmonger

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melodyofmbaku · 1 year

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In Me (Erik Stevens x OC)

Warning ⚠️: SMUT (18+ Material)

Prompt: “Should I give you something else? Something you could keep inside you for the rest of the night?”

A/N: clearing out my drafts so to speak. Enjoy ya nasties.

Formatting on mobile. 🥲

___

She reached up on her toes, her hands clutching at his shirt and nosed around for a kiss.

He looked down at her with a confused look before avoiding her advances as he’d been doing the whole night.

The couple had been invited to a yacht party for one of their mutual friends' birthdays. The room was filled with suave wealthy black folk and they couldn’t be more comfortable.

Since they Alicia had been pawing up her man incessantly. She loved Erik in a suit. It was almost like she wanted him to mount her right then an there with how incessant she was being.

He wouldn’t want to consume her in public. Not like this. He wouldn’t grant anyone the opportunity of seeing his girl in the haze of pleasure. That was his alone to see.

The music still played in the background and she grabbed his hand. She threw a quick “we’ll be right back” over her shoulder and flashed a smile over to her friends.

Dancing her way through the crowd she led him to the lush powder room on the other side of the yacht. Once they entered she tried to push his back against the door and take possession of what she wanted — his month — stroking the inside of her mouth expertly.

Instead he grabbed her arms and spun her around and walked her to the column in the bath room and pressed his weight against her. He used one of his legs to push her flush against the column. She was now pressed against the wall.

“Calm down.” He spoke the low request into her ear and her body began to thrum with need. She shivered.

“I want —“ she began but before she could finish he cut her off.

“You think I don’t know what you want?” He asked.

How could he not know? She was his girl. He knew her like he knew how to dismember a body. Expertly.

Her body was tense against the wall still and she squirmed against him. He placed his hand at the curve of her back and pushed her hips against the wall.

“Alicia, relax.” There was no question that this was not a request.

She had no choice but to relent.

Almost immediately she released the tension she was holding and became much more malleable.

“There you are.”

He ran his nose up the column of her neck letting her sweet perfume fill his nostrils. With one hand pressing against the curve of her back he used the other to unbuckle his belt.

“What’s got you feeling so hungry huh?” He asked.

The sound of his belt made her clench in want. Was he going to use it to discipline her? Was she going to love it?

Unknown to her, he very much wanted to be in her. He really wasn’t interested in prolonging their play. Her begging and fussing had given him a semi a while ago. In this moment, he was a mere man who wanted to satisfy his basest desires.

When she heard him lower his zipper she couldn’t help the “please” that slipped from her lips.

While pulling out his member from his boxers he placed more of his weight against her. He wanted her to feel him through her dress.

She gasped.

“I know baby girl.”

His hand skirted under her dress and palmed her bare ass.

“This dress makes you look delicious.” He spoke into her ear while pumping himself to life.

“I wore it for you.” She whispered. “ I wanted you to like it.”

When she got like this. He didn’t know how to contain himself.

“I know baby. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. I love it. Thank you.”

The praise had already got her into a blissful headspace.

He bent down to kiss her cheek and pressed himself into her warm heat slowly. He groaned internally and released a deep sigh.

Fucking paradise. She clung to him like a second skin. The moan she let out was obscene.

He used one hand to grip the back of her neck and the other to snake around her body to lay flat against her abdomen. She was going to feel all of him today.

Then he began his slow languid pace. Erik had been drinking and Hennessy dick was something else.

He was going to enjoy his woman tonight.

He slid his hand up her stomach to cup her breast lightly.

“I love these.” He murmured lowly in her ear. His hot breath tickled and sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t help but clench against his thickness.

When his expert fingers found her nipple and tweaked softly she gasped.

“More.”

He bent his face to kiss the side column of her neck once more.

“Anything you want baby.” He began to thrust into her at a stronger pace. Still languid but more powerful, more intentional.

He slid his fingers down her body and they found her clit. He began lightly stroking while he whispered expletives into her ear.

“You begged me for it. Now you have to take it baby girl.”

She was almost beside herself. He knew how to work her body and the exact words to say to get her sopping wet.

“Erik” she breathed out almost urgently. Her body was already primed for release.

She’d been getting worked up since they left home. Every one of her advances had been avoided until now.

“Erik please. I need…” she gasped once more.

“What do you need baby girl? Tell me what you want. You know I got you.”

At this point his pace was brutal. His fingers toyed with her clit and she knew she was close.

“I need to cum.” She gasped out.

“That’s good to know. Thank you for sharing sweetheart.” He responded with amusement coloring his voice.

She moaned and her hand shot out to grasp his forearm. It was all the warning he needed.

“Please can I cu—“

“Go on sweet girl.” He prompted, into her ear.

Her request was cut off with her orgasm. It crashed into her unexpectedly as he placed both of his hands on her breasts and pulled her close to him.

She came down softly almost with the words “thank you” leaving her lips repeatedly like a prayer.

Erik held her up. He wasn’t done with her yet.

“Where do you want it?“ he asked, thrusts more restrained.

“In me.” She panted.

“Sweetheart that one was obvious.” He continued his pace holding himself at the brink of orgasm.

Erik had rock solid control. She couldn’t say the same for herself. She could already feel the pressure building up again. She held into his forearm. It was the only thing keeping her upright.

“Do you want to taste me? Feel my cum in your mouth and sliding down your throat?” He kissed her neck once more.

“Erik.” She begged, gasping out his name and clutching to him tighter. .

“Or should I give you something else? Something you could keep inside you for the rest of the night? Something that could slip from your pretty hole so you can be reminded whose pussy this is.”

She couldn’t help the loud moan that slipped out of her mouth at the visual.

He swiftly clamped a hand against her mouth muffling the tail end of her moan.

His head snapped over his shoulder at the door. He didn’t remember if they’d locked it.

“Come on baby girl let’s make sure we don’t invite the whole boat to our party hm?” He commented, eyes shooting back to hers. She didn’t have a care in the world. With the blissed out look on her face he knew she’d do it again.

He slid 2 fingers into her mouth and she sucked them earnestly.

“God, you are a wonder.” He shook his head to focus on the task at hand. If he let himself dwell on that he’d finish sooner than he wanted to. He didn’t want that.

“Mouth or otherwise baby girl?” He was a mere man and his woman was driving him crazy.

“In my mouf.” Her answer came out garbled due to his fingers stroking her tongue.

“I didn’t hear you sweet bits.” He kissed the spot behind her ear still pumping himself inside her with barley restrained vigor.

At this point tears were streaming down her face. He had kept her on the brink of orgasm for far too long and she was close to her breaking point.

“Please cum in my mouth daddy!”

That one got him. She never used the word but the state she had to be in to ask like that? Yeah. That was good.

He let his hand slide down her body from her breasts to her panties and his fingers found her clit once more.

He shifted his strokes. Once, twice and she was moaning against his hands in earnest. Her orgasm took over and her knees buckled. She went almost limp in his arms.

He slipped out of her and shifted to hold her body up.

“Down on your knees angel. Let me give you what you want.” He wanted her stable and primed to get her reward.

She was still vibrating from her orgasm but sank to her knees without issue.

He gripped her head and rubbed his wet tip against her lips. He pushed himself past the folds but didn’t sheath himself fully inside her wet waiting mouth.

“I can — “ lifting her arms in an attempt to grip him.

“Shhh. You had yours. Now let’s have you make yourself useful. I’ll use your body as I please to get off. And you’ll like it. I know you will.”

She arched her back almost involuntarily. When he spoke like that she couldn’t help herself.

With her knees spread on the floor Erik was met with an almost obscene view of her sex that caused him blow his load right then and there.

He groaned to himself. And watched as his cum coated her lips and teeth.

Shock covered her features and she ran her tongue over her bottom lip and sucked her lips in.

“What a pretty picture.” He mused. His thighs were pretty sore but it was so worth it.

He bumped his now soft member against her mouth again and stroked her hair.

She took his head into her mouth and sucked the remaining precum from his tip before he tucked himself back into his boxers, pulled up his pants and fastened his belt.

“Don’t move.” He commanded. He looked around the lush bathroom and went to grab a white washcloth from the basket of stacked clean linen.

God bless the rich.

He ran the towel through with warm water and took a knee to clean her face and between her legs gently. When he was done he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“All done.” He shot her a killer smile before offering her a hand to stand up.

He watched silently as she stumbled up before fluffing her hair and pulling down her dress.

He held out his hand to her and before they could walk out she stopped them.

“I want a kiss.” She said avoiding his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. Her gaze flickered up to meet his and she was almost shy.

“Can I please have a kiss?”

He’d just dug out her guts and she had his cum dripping from her lips but asking for a kiss was what was making her nervous.

“Of course you can. C’mere baby girl”.

He grabbed her by the waist and held her close.

Their eyes locked and he couldn’t help but look away.

When her eyebrows crinkled she let out a “What?”

“You’re so good damn beautiful mama.”

He then captured her lips in a searing kiss.

“Was that all you wanted?”

She peered up at him with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah. But this was good too.”

—

Taglist

@sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy

#erik stevens x reader #black panther #black reader #black writer #melodicfic #my fic #erik kilmonger x reader #erik x reader #erik x oc #black panther x black reader #black panther fics #black panther fic #black panther fanfiction #black oc #black writblr #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #killmonger smut #killmonger imagine

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tomanyhusbandz · 1 month

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Chose me

18+

Magneto x Oc

Summary: Magneto and Rogue have had a very long going relationship and Isis has been in the background waiting for Magneto to chose her despite all her efforts of doing everything and anything for him he still chose Rogue whenever he had the chance but today was the last straw from Isis and he was going to chose her.

Authors note: i’ve seen so many people talking about magneto in the X-Men animation, and I was thinking the same thing when I saw him and this idea just came to me so here you go. Hope you enjoy it!.

Magneto x fem,Oc,non canon,almost smut,minor age difference,kissing,hickeys,biting,exposed female

“You go back to her everytime …” she says standing in the doorway in her lace satin gown and robe with her fists clenched trying to swallow her anger but not doing to good at hiding it

“I thought you were sleeping my beloved..”He says under his breath his back still turned holding his helmet in his hands reflecting on the past,there past all of it the things he lost and the things she had given up to be with him, to follow him no matter what he was doing,he admired her willingness to please him but that was a weakness and he didn’t like weakness but he’d be lying if he said she wasn’t one of his.

“ Thats the problem being connected to the earth the wind tells me everything, when are you going to decide ? she may have know you longer than I but we have more in common and you know I would do anything for you .. you remember that don’t you ?” She says now fully coming into Xaviers old office scanning the room she starts to remember were it all started meeting Erik for the first time

Flashback

When she was eighteen..

Erik was about twenty and falling in and out with Xavier while also being in a relationship ship with Rogue at that time he was more rebellious and quick to react to things that upset him but thats what Isis liked most about him that edge he had it excited her. It had been just another day in the mansion/school and all the children where in class and the former X-men where on a save mission. Destroying Mr sinister lab and finding a young Egyptian girl strapped to a table and tubes all over her Isis’s was an experiment a clone but different Mr sinister’s last clone, identical to Ororo, who had found her repulsive, an a abomination of nature but beyond her feelings the X-men brung back to the school for further examination. Xavier was fascinated after unlocking Isis mind seeing her past and the things she’s been through she felt familiar she reminded him of Magneto.

“Well Charles what is it ?” Erik says his hands held neatly behind his back coming up to brush his short hair unconsciously

The room was quite waiting for his answer but he only continued to scan her mind further lost in her thought he didn’t even realize tears falling from his eyes until he quickly let go holding his ears if someone was scratching a board with there nails.

“What what is it spit it out Charles!” Erik says agitatedly screaming as the others step back to give Xavier room to breathe

“Sh-She she’s been through terrible things Erik things possible similar to what you’ve been through we can not kill her … she need us” Xavier say staring sadly at the table Isis’s was lying on motionless

“We can not keep THAT thing around she is still connected to Sinister for all we know he could be listening through her right now!” Scott says stepping forward with his hands on his hips and a growing face

“Let us all calm down .. i do believe she could be a danger to us all but as much as i agree with Scott we should not discarded her it would be best to keep her on our side” Ororo says stepping up behind Scott with her hand neatly on his shoulder trying to calm his angered demeanor

As the others discussed if Isis should stay around Erik was standing over her admiring her golden brown skin and hieroglyphic tattoos on her arms not knowing what they meant he still found them fascinating only wondering how strong she was he then caught himself tracing her skin, his eyes wonder lower down to her long black hair some pieces braided with gold clippings some not it was sprawled across the floor she was goddess like in every way. Before he could pull away from her skin Isis’s eyes shoot open and she breaks free of her straps grabbing Erik by the throat and lifting him from his feet the room erupts in shouting and everyone stands in there fighting poses ready to attack on Xaviers command but he does nothing but raise his hand for them to stand down approaching silently in his chair.

She launches Erik across the room turning her attention to the man in the wheelchair while Rogue runs to Eriks aid ting to help him up Isis was in raged and confused about where she was, who they were, why some man was standing over her like she was a spectacle again. Quickly Xavier calmed mind taking to her gentle in her thoughts explaining that they where her saviors not her captures.

“Do you understand now ? We will not harm you we are just like you .. we are here to help” Xavier explains taking Isis hand in his she flinches a little but proceeds to take it in a curious trance at there hands touching Xavier knew from her mind it had been a long time since she felt the warmth of another

Further into the flashback

Due to the hard work Xavier put in Isis was speaking English better before she only spoke Egyptian and it made it hard for her to communicate verbally, she also was being taught by storm to control her powers due to them both having similar talents it was easy and storm was beginning to warm up to her a bit everyday she was also given the name phsyclone by the students they enjoyed her company and her knowledge on history due to growing up in Egypt. And Erik as usual, was always battling with choosing to be good, or choosing to be an enemy to the human race. He had been planning to leave again, and find his own group of mutants to resolve this issue they’ve been dealing with for so long with the human race. Currently standing on the balcony with rogue, he was speaking with her about taking off and bringing her with him she refused, and they exchanged words that they couldn’t take back rouge ran by with hot tears in her eyes.

Iris stood silently watching Erik sulking at the balcony her bare feet padding against the concrete making Erik turn around and lean back on the railing the wind howling between the too as Iris closes the gap.

“What … didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare or are you here to try and kill me again ” he say with a scowl on his face

“I am ..sorry I was beside myself I do not wish to harm anyone undeserving” she says now standing beside him leaning over the railing she puts out her hand swaying it in the wind it began so balance around her sway

“ Hm .. I see and who do you think is deserving ?” He says watching her hand dancing with the wind it was enchanting something storm must have taught her

“Of death ? No one” she said dropping the swirl of air and turning her attention back to the brown haired male taken back when she noticed he was staring her down already with this intense look in his eyes

“I’ve heard about all you’ve been through … the things you’ve faced .. and what was done to you by that fool and your standing here telling me that you think there’s no one in this world deserving of death .. he treated you as if you were nothing and you’re OK with that ?” He says seeming more upset about the situation than she was. He folds his arms over his chest, waiting for her answer, impatiently

“That is what I am saying a part of me sees that there is no use in slaying others, because of my own feelings towards what they’ve done to me .. it doesn’t mean that they will do it to others .. there are those that you cannot ward off with kind words sometimes you have to use force .. that I understand” says, standing up straight now her head held high as she spoke to him, speaking like royalty with elegance.

Erik was standing there with his mouth, a gap quickly, closing it and regaining his composure. She was beautiful, like nothing he had ever seen before, and she was the only person for a long time that knew where he came from felt how he felt and understood what he went through to be where he was. Maybe she wasn’t she was meant to be here with him Maybe he could use that if he just got to understand her more gaining her trust, but there was something about her that he didn’t want to use, it made him feel warm in the center of his chest was this love.

End of flashback

“ of course I remember my beloved, and I also do remember that you still don’t like wearing shoes” he says chuckling lowly to himself before placing his helmets on the desk the moonlight bouncing off his long white hair he took a seat on the front of the desk, not sitting on it all the way as his arms facing her fully noticing pout on her perfect lips

“ Don’t change the subject. How long will you continue to string me along in this cat mouse game? It doesn’t matter how many times she walks away from you you continue to find a way back to her without even looking for it, and then it comes to me … you’ve never tried that hard” she says, looking down sadly at her bare feet, her perfectly painted golden toenails shining in the dark she didn’t dare walk over to where he stood because she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. They’d be in here all night

“ Because you make it so easy for me, but that’s the best thing about you. It’s easy to love you, but I can’t simply walk away fro- from someone I’ve been dealing with for so long .. you understand that don’t you?” he says, waving his hand, gently the necklace on her neck lifts, dragging her gently over to his direction pulling her right into his chest

And there she was flushed against his chest she placed her hands against him, nervously, staring down at her feet still locking eyes with him will only change her mind making her forget for in just this moment that he can’t chose between her and rogue making Isis feel useless like a pet she hates herself very time he calls she comes running and it doesn’t come unnoticed. Xavier has tried his best to discourage her from getting to close to Erik but they had this unspoken connection only making it harder for her to stay away like a rebellious teen, she knew he couldn’t love here they way he loved rogue if he said so to her he was only faking it but the desperate part of her didn’t care she just wanted him.

“No I don’t I can’t keep playing second to someone Erik someone who can’t love you the way that i can .. and you know it I knew coming back here after Xavier died was a bad idea not for us .. but for me i can t do this anymore .. if you choose her again ..” she says now looking him in the eyes with tears welling up

“Liebchen… don’t think for a moment that i would ever put you second to someone, i do love you more than you ever know but you also know that professing my love has never been my strong suite” he says grabbing her chin in between his fingers as he whispers the words into her lips there breath mingling together in the silence of the room

She balances here eyes between his lips and eyes then swallowing her thick saliva before speaking …

“ Then show me ..” she says waving her hand behind her summoning the wind and slamming the office door shut

Erik put on an amused face before slipping his hands under her short nightly and grabbing her waist tighter into his body his skin tight suite advancing the sensation of his excitement of her words and her curves against him pulling her so close that it hurts but they didn’t care. Isis slams her mouth against his roughly one of her legs sliding up to his side he takes that as a sign to lift her grabbing both of her thighs he turns and lays her across Xaviers old desk, she threads her fingers through his white hair as his lips pepper kisses along her neck leaving hickeys and bite marks.

Soft moans fill the room and echo through the empty halls of the mansion Erik makes it down to her gown slipping it off of her completely as she slipped his suite down to his waist taking in his well formed physique her hands ran over his chest as he stood between her legs staring at her as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

“W-what ..”she says in a breathless moan trying to catch her breath her hair was out of the ponytail and her breast where evenly covered by it and bite marks and hickeys litter her golden brown skin she looked like a goddess his goddess how could he ever think to live without her to breath without her or chose someone over her would be the biggest mistake his ever made and he can’t gain to lose someone else that he cares so much for

“Y-you .. i chose you” he says grinning for ear to ear before hovering over her completely closing the gape before she could answer he kissed her wanting this moment to last forever forgetting all about rogue Isis now she was his forever.

#x men 97 #magneto x reader #x men x reader #oc x canon #imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #erik x oc #almost smut #18+ content #18+ only #erik lehnsherr

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jellyluchi · 4 months

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Pictured: Erik and Rose Sultana circa 1880

I finished my painting and thought since I’ve seen some other artist post their poto ocs then I might as well…

#my art #poto oc #phantom of the opera oc #phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #Erik #Erik x oc #not jojo #oc stuff #selfship stuff #selfship art #rose #fun fact: rose is a painter #fun fact: she is NOT related to the little sultana in persia

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thelionsdelight · 3 months

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“Now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a wife like everybody else and to take her out on Sundays. I have invented a mask that makes me look like anybody. People will not even turn round in the streets. You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. You are crying! You are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself. If you loved me I should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that you pleased.”

art of my phantom oc Aurore and Erik!!!

based on The Kiss by Gustave Klimt

#poto #phantom of the opera #erik x oc #Phantom of the Opera x oc #my art

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les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques · 4 months

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A little bit to come of what I’m working on:

Doom was a pink, grinning thing—one which dropped itself upon the floor with all of Augustine’s clothing. Erik found himself numbering the stitches along the hem of her chemise, counting every button on the emerald silk which laid lifeless beneath her round toes. Anything to keep him from looking up at the woman in front of him, from contending with whatever reality his foolish hope and flattery had just bought him.

For how long did Mama look at her feet whenever you stood before her? Behrouz at his fingernails, the pulse of your neck? He could blame no one but himself for this humiliation.

“Well, monsieur?”

There might as well have been wires embedded under his rotten skin, the way his head jerked up at her unremarkable voice; what he saw standing before him left him speechless. For she had resumed her contrapasto stance from earlier, but now every inch of her skin was bare, save for what was covered by the hair snaking down her shoulders. A punch to the gut would have been less disarming.

“Well.” Stupid. Erik slumped backwards onto the stool by his easel, the charcoal between his worried thumb and forefinger now making little piles on the floorboards. He tried and failed to stare at nothing but the little mole beneath her left eye, just catching the embarrassed blush blooming on her cheeks.

But Augustine proved a stalwart and uncanny thing. When the silence began to border on painful, she cleared her throat and spoke—glorious, boring words which had abandoned him entirely.

“You have a beautiful piano. I saw it as I was passing through the corridor downstairs. Are you a musician as well?”

What could he possibly say? Yes—I am the greatest pianist to have walked this earth, save one. No—music died in me months, years ago, and I am merely awaiting the right funeral pyre on which to throw myself.

Both answers seemed inadequate, tangential, when compared to a woman mantled in nothing but lamplight, every curve of her long body etching itself into his memory. Her breasts were heavy, tipped in dusk, and to see them rise and fall in time with the nearly imperceptible sway of her thighs was enough to render his piano little more than a box of bolts and string.

So he said this, stooping his hideous head: “I play. A little.”

Read the first chapter here.

#the phantom of the opera #poto #erik #gaston leroux #fic #erik x oc

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a-ticklish-banshee · 13 days

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Found another commission saved to my drive I got years ago, from @worldssilliestserpent It's very much in character for Szilvia to restrain Erik like that lol. She's mean to her beloved but it comes from a place of love lol.

#melody's posts #tickling #tickle art #melody's OCs #szilvia blaskó #erik x oc #oc x canon

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violetsdaisy · 17 days

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Phantom of the Opera Masterlist

by violetsdaisy

The Song of the Basement

Oneshot. Rated T. Erikstine

Christine is orphaned and left in an orphanage where she hears beautiful music from the basement which follows her throughout life.

The Unfinished Race

11 chapters. Rated M. Erikstine

He had no intention of invading her life again after letting her go. Now her life is in his hands and he must protect her at all costs. The plan was to get her to safety. He should have foreseen that any plan regarding her wouldn’t play out how he had expected.

six thirty

Oneshot. Rated E. Erikstine

Christine wants to thank Erik for everything he’s done for her. Meg and Sorelli told her how. Now, she just has to put the plan into action.

Je Veux Vivre

7 chapters. Rated M. Erik/OC

Still recovering from her husband’s sudden death, Claire’s life takes another unexpected turn when a shadowed figure appears in her bedroom one night. Nadir says he knows him. Claire doesn’t want to, but fate has other plans.

#separating these from my millions of ygo fics #violetsdaisy #my writing #masterlist #phanfiction #phanfic #erikstine #phantom Erik #erik x christine #erik x oc #christine daae #phics #phantom of the opera #poto

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satchihatchi · 1 year

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Phantom of the Opera - fanfiction (OC x Erik)

Here are some sketches and art of my new story, called “Only time can heal the deepest scars on the heart”

What is the story about?

Four years after the event of the 2004 movie, there are spreading rumors that the Parisian opera will be repaired and reopened. Everyone is excited except for a young cabaret singer Clarisse, who is afraid that it will bring the Opera Ghost back to life. Everyone calms her down - that the events from the past can't happen again. However, when she is chased by men who are connected to her mysterious past, she has no other option than to hide in the catacombs, hoping to find there a safe place.But that wasn't the only thing she had found there...

Where to read it?

On AO3 the link here

#phantom of the opera #fanfiction #Fanfiction Art #fanfic #fanfictions #Read on AO3 #ao3 #Phantom of the opera erik #erik x oc #erik x christine #Illustration #sketches #anime boys #anime girl #romance #slowburn #agnst #musical #love story

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rimaiahwrites · 8 months

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Our secret

Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom x sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/lg themes but it’s never addressed as dd/lg

Erik Clinched his glass of cold lemonade with his Left hand, almost feeling like it could break in anytime. He bite his lip and gritted his teeth together as he watched his best friends little sister hang upside down on the white porch swing with a book in her hand. Her legs hung over the head of the swing and her white Church shoes clicked together as she read softly to herself. Her Rosy red swollen lip moved gracefully as she eyes scanned over the book page.

She was reading a book he has seen her read a thousands times. She called it a classic that she could never get tried of, Erik only laughed at her and said she was eventually going to get tried of it.

Her legs rubbed together making her light yellow dress slip down her legs and slightly exposed her pink panties. A animalistic growl vibrated through his chest but he quickly covered it up with a cough and moved away from the window when he heard his friend Approaching the kitchen.

"My mom called and told me to go to the store and get some eggs and milk. You can stay if you want it'll only take like 30 minutes." Erik nodded and sat down on the couch that was wrapped in A plastic cover.

"Alright I'll just play this game until you get back," he smirked leaning back with the Game controller in his lap. "Yeah get all the practice you can get because when I get back imma kick your ass!" Dwayne laugh his way out of the house and began his walk to the store. Erik jumped up and looked out the window and saw that he was out of sight.

He walked back to the kitchen and saw that she was still in the same position that she was in when he left. He made his way outside and sat right beside her on the swinging seat. She looked up from her book and smiled at him. "Hi." She spoke softly. She pushed her legs up flip over the chair and her dress flipped over her head. "That's not very ladylike little one," he said and pulled her dress down for her, her cheeks grow hot but she acted like she didn't care by shrugging and say- "I'm not a lady I'm a 18 year old. I'll wait to be ladylike when I get old." She Sassed sitting on the swing next to him. "Is that so" He raised eyebrow while biting his lip. She nodded. "Plus it's just you Erik..." he chuckled a little. "What does that mean?" He asked as he watched her Fiddle with his fingers.

"You have been my brother's best friend since you guys were 12 so your like a big brother to me and I know you haven't tell on me," she smiled bopping him on the nose with her finger. He bite it and she gasped. "That's not very nice E, you got your nasty spit on me" she said pouting as she wiped his saliva on her dress not even really caring much about it. Nether of them did.

"Ok and?" He put his finger in his mouth and stuck it in her ear without a second thought. She smacked his hand away and pushed his arm from around her shoulder. "Why would you do that? That was disgusting," he tried to hold in his laughter but he failed and end up bent over from laughing so hard. When he sat up and lend against him and slide her whole tongue across his face. His smile drop and If looks could kill she'd be a dead girl right now.

"Alright bet, come her-" he lunged for her but she squealed and hopped off the swing and run into the house before he could grab, he chased her all the way up stairs and she screamed the whole way up until she got to her room, Erik stopped in his tracks when he didn't see her anywhere in there. he began to look around the room because he was 100% sure that she ran in here. "______! Where you at little girl..." He whispered looking under her bed but she wasn't under there. He looked behind the door, in the bathroom, in the tube, in the toilet , behind the curtains but she was no where to be found.

"What the fuck I know she ran in here-" He Paused when he hear her giggling come from the closet, He turn on his heals and walked towards it, he swung the door open was met with nothing but the cute little Fluffy dresses she loves to wear. "_____ I won't hurt you I just wanna play" he said in a fake creepy voice. She put both of her hands over her mouth as excitement tangled through her body feeling like she was still getting Chased. He dug deeper in the closet pushing her dresses apart and he found a little white door that blended in with the walls, he honestly wouldn't even have found it if it wasn't for her giggles and the door knob sticking out of the wall. He was shocked when he opened it to find a whole decorated bedroom with a tv, DVD player a whole mini fridge with snacks on top of it and a giggling y/n sitting there.

"What the hell-" he said walking all the way In the room. she smiled at him brightly before standing up and shouting- "you found me!"

"I did find you.What's my prize?" She bite her lip innocently and shrugged batting her eyelashes at him. "The prize is you get the honor to be the only person to step foot in here besides me, not even my mom or dad know about this place." He sat next to her and pulled her on his lap and she sat with hesitation or a question asked. "Eh That's cool and all but I would much weather it if I get to lick you back," she huffed. "Mm no, I got the last lick so let's just leave it at that. I won." She sassed closing her eyes sticking her tongue out at him teasingly. He hesitated a little bit before He flick his tongue against her and she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "EW WH-" then he licked her hand then her arm then her lips all together. "I won." He chuckled at her experience.

Leaning back on the blankets and pillows all over the floor. It was her cute makeshift bed. He grabbed her from underneath her arm and sat him on her lap so she was straddling him. She dress bunched up slightly and she laid it back down. She rested her dainty hands on his stomach and smiled up at him. His breath quicken and she noticed. "Yeah, yeah whatever." She said rolling her eyes and moving her head side to side and her two ponytails bobbed a little. It caught his attention and he flick one with his middle finger.

"I like your little bunny tails." She was confused. "They look more like big bunny tails then a ponytail , pony hair is straight and long. You're is big and puffy." He Explained was she busted into a fit of giggles and laughter. She calmed down and nodded her head agreeing with him. They did look more like a bunny tail then a pony.

"I never thought of that. You're right." She smiled at him, he adore her smile with everything in him. He adore her just in general and it was getting harder and harder to hide the fact. He felt wrong for feeling this way towards her because of the age difference and the fact that it was his best friend's little sister, he knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it.

"You are so fuckin' cute little one." He spoke softly licking his lips slowly. "Thank you..." She said back but he wasn't even listening because he was to focused on her plump lips moving softly as she spoke. The position they were in only made his Dirty thoughts and behavior worst. His hands slide up her thighs in reaction to the dress rising up her legs. He grip her tightly and she whimpered softly In Surprise. Her muscles began to relax in his hands as he Massage her chocolate Colored thighs. "You look so cute in this little dress you know that?-" her breathing seem to quicken to at this point and she didn't know why. He was just Simply touching her. She thought.

She squirmed in his lap and he damn near moaned. Her covered flower was laying right against him and it was driving him crazy knowing that the only thing that was keeping them apart from each other was her thin little pink panties and his dark black ripped jeans.

He wanted so badly to be buried in her cave, deep and swollen. Her pink lips gripping his member as he stroked her deeper then she could ever imagine he could go.

He felt his precum stain his boxers and he cursed himself for having such dirty thoughts about the little 18 year old sitting on him.

She brought his hands up higher on his chest, and lifted up a little so his bulge was laying right Against her aching pussy.

Erik noticed her discomfort and asked what was wrong. "I-I feel....funny?" She said more as a question then statement. His Curiosity peaked up. "What do you feel like? Is it a bad funny or is it a good funny?" He said as he ran his thumb over her jaw line and bottom lip which was red from her biting, picking, and licking it. She thought for a second and sat back on him. Excitement and tingles shot up to her clit. It shocked her and made her legs wobble a little bit. "I don't know if I like this feeling." She purred like a kitten and leaned into his hand like a cat would do to it's owner. "You want me to make it go away?" He cooed. She nodded her head desperately as the feeling only got stronger the more he spoke to her in such a low tone it seem.

"It feels funny right here?" He lifted her little light yellow dress and pointed to her covered flower. "Y-yes" She whined beginning to get frustrated with the whole situation. "If you want me to help you, you know I gotta take your panties off and touch you right?" He asked wanting to be sure she was 100% ok with this. "I know. Please hurry." She confirm and gripped his shirt tightly. He smiled feeling like he just won the lottery.

He brought her Down to lay flat on his chest while her ass was pointed up into the air. He kissed her plump lips with passion and pent up lust for the paste year of wanting to touch and kiss her. She gasped out of surprise. He was her first kiss and he couldn't be happier about that. His lips moving slow with hunger in his motions. She was in shock but nonetheless kept moving her tongue against his slick one. He broke the kiss and flipped her over so he was on top, he grabbed her hard nipples in his fingers and pinched Them roughly, she gasped and Arched. "Erik please, your making it worse are you sure you know what you're doing?" She asked innocently. Erik chuckled and pressed his thumb onto her clit making her Chest rise up against his.

"Yeah I think I know what I'm doing lil mama." Her breath came out short and quick while The warm heat of his breath tickled her jawline. He licked the crease of her neck and jaw sending chills down her back.

His arm wrapped around her Waist and down her ass. He slide his big hands down to her soaked pussy.

It was wet and warm.

His shaky hands pulled her panties to the side and revealed her chocolate colored clit and her pink and creamy insides that glistened from her arousal.

Erik let out a weak breath before dragging his pointer finger down her clit and slit. Y/n let out whimper/squeal that made Erik's dick jump.

Erik studded her face the more he moved his fingers up and down her clit. Her face was relaxed and in bliss. She was in heaven.

"You hear that princess?" He asked as he speed up his hand movements making a wet and sticky sound fill the room. "That pretty pussy so wet baby." He spoken deeply. Her mouth dropped open letting out a stream of moans and whimpers. "Oh E! feel so good." She dragged out gripping the front of his shirt, while trying to hide her face in his chest.

"Why you hiding from me princess? Huh? Lemme see that pretty face." Erik whispered in her ear. She cried out his name trying to sit her upper body up without ruining her arch.

"Whatcha hiding for babygirl? You don't want me to see how good I'm making that pussy feel?" She shook her head. Her brown cheeks were so red from embarrassing that it shocked Erik. He's never seen a black person blush this hard before.

He smirked kissing her on the cheek then her lips. They were red and swollen from all the kissing but it turned him on even more.

"Erik..." she said frantically, popping her head up from his neck. He hide his smile from her by biting his lip. "E, wait I feel like imma pee on myself!" She panicked trying to lift up from his chest, but he held her there.

"You about to cum babygirl stay still." She was still squirming around from how intense it felt. There was a knot in of her stomach and a sensation in the core of her vagina that felt incredibly too good. It was to much for her.

The feeling was getting stronger and stronger and she couldn't help the moans and gibberish words that left her mouth.

Erik's hand stayed on her clit and just before she could cum his finger stopped. He wanted nothing more then to edge her and make her cry.

Her tense body relaxed and her big brown eyes popped open and she looked Furious.

"Erik why did you stop?" She whined smacking him on the chest. "Tell me what you want princess, beg for me to give it to you." He said grabbing her chin and pulling her face to his.

"Tell me princess." She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth to speak. "Uh uh open yo eyes and tell me like a big girl." He said in a hushed tone.

"Umm I-.... Erik" she pouted kicking her foot, too embarrassed to actually tell him herself. "Please Erik? I can't-"

"Yes you can, Tell me you want to rub on ya pussy." She bite her lips as tears began to blurry her vision. "I'm too embarrassed..." Erik chuckled before he started to glide his fingers up and down her pussy really slowly. Y/n pushed her hips more against his hands so she could feel more of him.

"Please? I'll do anything you say....please just rub my pussy Erik please?" She finally blared out hiding her face back into his neck. Erik smile proud of her, and in no time his fingers were back on her clit and going to speed of lighting.

"Aww there you go princess, that all you had to say." He praised her. Kissing the side of her face as he watched her whole body slump over and eyes rolled to the back of her head.

The knot in her core before so tight that she couldn't even speak. He moved his fingers faster and the sound of slashing water filled the room. Her juices leaked all over his black jeans and the bottom of her dress.

Her body became Tease making her fingers locked them onto his plaid button up shirt and the plan black one he had underneath in a tight hold.

Erik watched as her mouth hung open and eye rolled as she mumbled "Erik, Erik oh my god yesss" over and over until her orgasm slowly faded away.

She laid there for a minute before finally sitting up in his lap. Her body was still slightly jerking from experiencing her very first orgasm.

Her eyes were hazy and low like she was high as she looked at Erik biting his lip. "You good baby?" She nodded her head before laying back on his chest.

"I have never done this before." She whispered looking up into his eyes. He looked back down at her. "I know, you like it?" He asked even though he already knew that answer. She shook her head fast making her bunny tails bounce.

Erik laughed before picking her up from his lap and sitting her on the pillows that were on the side of them.

"Where are you going?" She pouted up at him as he got up and walked to the door.

"I gotta get back down stairs before your brother get back princess." She sat up on her legs because poking her lips out for him to kiss. Erik laughter filled the room before he walked back over to her and kissed her deeply. Tongue swirling around her wet mouth.

He pulled Away after getting her a few more pecks, before leaving her Secret room and out of her room.

Just as Erik made it back down the stairs, y/b/n opened and slammed the door before throwing the grocery bag on the kitchen table.

"Alright you ready for me to kick yo ass in 2k?"

"You smell that?" Erik asked as he looked around the room. Y/b/n looked around confused sniffing the air. "It kinda smell like pus-" "Nah nigga it smell like CAP." Y/b/n fired back, plopping on the couch smirkingly.

________________________

The end.

(Y'all If the time line is off between this one and part two it's because I wrote this when I was 16 and I feel like now that I'm 19 the reader probably shouldn't be 16 fucking on a legal boy lmao)

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fic #marvel #black panther #killmonger fanfiction #erik x oc #killmonger #killmonger imagine #killmonger x reader #dom x sub #dom!erikxblacksub!reader

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saltiestblkgirlofall · 1 year

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Spark [Chapter 2]

Summary: She is a spymaster, not a warden. A hunter, not a caretaker. Yet here she is, trusted with the keys that hold the prison of one Erik "Killmonger" Stevens.

Notes: This chapter was super wordy but I set up like...two other stories and some of what Spark's plot going forward will be, so I'm proud of myself for getting this far without a concrete chapter plan (best believe I will be forcing myself to write one this weekend). Just clearing something up: unless I state otherwise, all of my fics take place within the same continuity. All of my fics focus on oc x canon pairings, and those OCs are black women specifically.

Word Count: 3.70k

Warnings: Allusions to racism and canon-typical violence.

Chapter 1 || Next [12/23/2022]

1991, Birnin Zana

Fatuma awoke with a soft gasp, sitting up slowly and blearily looking around her darkened room. The only source of light was from her clock, which emanated a soft golden glow. The preteen scrubbed a hand over her eyes, smacking her lips, as she slowly sat up, tempted to sink back into her silky soft sheets. Her bed was still warm—she’d been suffering from a cold and so her mother had slept with her daughter, the young girl uncharacteristically seeking her mother’s physical comfort. Fatuma’s throat itched and she noticed her water cup was empty. Getting out of bed, she padded over to her cracked door, easing it open silently.

As she headed towards the staircase which lead down to the kitchen and living area, her mother’s sharp voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Is this true, my king?” Fatuma peered over the banister—her eyes widened into saucers when she saw her uncle standing there, clad in his armor. Although she wanted to go and greet him, something rooted her to the spot.

“Yes.”

“I see.” The head of the Emem family ran a hand over her face. Expression strained, mismatched eyes fixed upon T’Chaka. When she spoke again, Fatuma heard the tears in her mother’s voice. A rare display of emotion from the otherwise stoic She-Wolf. “I will…I will update the records.”

T’Chaka’s voice held a pleading note. “Desta—”

“T’Chaka.” Desta sharply said, before her voice softened. “Please. Don’t, Your Majesty. As your Spymaster, I understand. As your friend and sister-in-law…”

“I know.” Another pause. The King swayed on his feet and Desta stepped forward, only for T’Chaka to raise a hand. “Will you tell Faraji?”

“Are you insane—”

“It is a legitimate question, Desta.”

Fatuma watched as her mother paused, then let out a bitter little laugh. “No.”

“Thank you.” Desta Emem turned away from the King, her brother-in-law, and walked over to the small bar, pouring herself a glass of wine and draining the glass. She leaned against the marble countertop for a long time, the King patiently and respectfully waiting for her to speak again.

“…Is that all you want to tell me, T’Chaka?” Desta squeezed her cup. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“…No.” T’Chaka firmly said. The She-Wolf blew air out through her nostrils.

“I suppose both you and I will be telling our spouses some lies, come the dawn. I hope—I pray to Anub that it was worth it, Your Majesty.”

“I know.” A pause. “I pray it was worth it as well.” The King sounded more exhausted, more strained than she’d ever heard him. Repentant, even. Fatuma shuffled away from the banister and back towards her bedroom. The water could wait. Whatever the situation, it sounded grim and she did not care to listen any further.

She pretended to be asleep when she heard her door open. Desta got into the bed next to her daughter and after checking her forehead, wrapped her arms about her daughter and pressed her cheek to Fatuma’s.

The young girl pretended not to notice the wetness of her mother’s cheeks.

“It is my intention to deny any and all ‘exchanges’ to Wakanda.”

Fatuma paced the space below the throne room, as the Elder Council met above. It was tradition for the Spymaster to not be seen during such gatherings. She, after all, answered directly to the king. Never to the Council of Elders. She had respect for them—all of them. Their positions were earned, not simply given, just as her own had been. But as she answered to a single leader…

The Americans are likely frothing at the mouth. Fatuma smirked to herself. It was she, after all, who advised against visitors to the country proper. She didn’t trust their leadership as far as she could throw them. Vigilance and suspicion. She’d advised T’Challa, Okoye and Ramonda, when they’d met privately the evening before. She’d spent time in America—sent agents into vital areas of their infrastructure. She knew how they treated their own people. Treated those nations with the resources they wanted and the lack of power to resist. She planned to assign two Dogs to each planned outreach center. They are like sharks—if they smell blood, they shall feast.

“Shall we go ahead with suggestions of an embassy?”

“Only in several countries.” T’Challa said. “The Americans refuse unless they are allowed to establish one of their own within Birnin Zana.”

The Merchant Tribe Elder scoffed, “Out of the question.”

Okoye piped up. “I agree.”

Fatuma paused in her pacing, purposely letting her leg drop heavily. The sound of her heel clicking filtered up through the thin floor—she was sure that the elders had heard her nonverbal agreement. T’Challa, after masterfully disguising his laugh with a clearing of his throat evenly responded.

“I have taken my advisors’ words into consideration and I will not permit the establishment of an embassy on Wakandan soil.”

“My King.” The Mining Tribe elder said. “There is another matter we have been meaning to bring up.”

Fatuma’s lips twitched—she had a sense of what it was. And based on T’Challa’s quiet ‘what is it’, he had a sense of what it was going to be as well.

“The burden of the crown is a heavy one. Perhaps you should take a queen…”

The rest of the meeting was a blur and standard. As they turned to more mundane matters, she made her way to the upper floor and waited outside of the door to the throne room—after a few minutes it opened.

Fatuma inclined her head respectfully as the elders, one by one, filtered out of the great throne room. The Queen Mother squeezed her arm gently before vanishing down the hall with the others, leaving T’Challa alone, staring out at the skyline. She didn’t hide her smug amusement and called out,

“An interesting conclusion, to the meeting.”

“For Bast’s sake—my reign is not even two months old.” T’Challa turned away from the great window with an uncharacteristic scowl. Fatuma smiled—he was going to hate what she had to say, then.

“I think you should get married, actually.” Fatuma folded her arms. “I might weep over Nakia’s loss, but she would make an excellent Queen.”

T’Challa gave her a withering look.

“Nakia is someone I care for deeply. And she cares for me. She has been my lover and she is a close friend and confidant. But…” He left the end of his statement open. Fatuma strained her ears for signs of resignation or sadness, but there was simply a conclusion. “We desire different things.”

“I understand.” Fatuma knew her best spy well. Marriage, queenship, a life tethered to the land of Wakanda…it was not in her nature. Nakia had always been one to look outwards, to look beyond. Her service to her people was in a more proactive, dynamic role. If T’Challa were a mountain, serene, peaceful and unmovable, Nakia—true to her heritage as a member of the River Tribe—was just that. Coursing and unpredictable, yet providing to the people who lived alongside it. It frustrated Fatuma to no end at times. But it was also what she—and perhaps T’Challa as well—loved the most about her. The She-Wolf came to stand alongside him, only for T’Challa to wrap an arm about her shoulder.

“What about you, elder sister? You will be forty, soon enough.”

“Eh, eh! I am thirty-seven, cousin, do not add the extra years.” Fatuma swatted at the King as he began to laugh. “You sound like Halima.”

“Speaking of Halima.” T’Challa thoughtfully said. “I want her reassigned to a particular task.”

“Reassigned to what?” Halima Emem, her younger sister, had been in deep cover in Hong Kong when Killmonger’s coup occurred. When she refused to accept orders, two of her fellow Dogs fled and the others attacked her. Like Fatuma, she had been charged with hunting and apprehending—or killing the rogue agents. Fatuma imagined their ends weren’t kind—she after all, had taught Halima everything she knew. And if Fatuma was vicious, Halima was brutal, built taller and stronger than her elder sister.

“I want her to go to Jabariland.” At Fatuma’s furrowed brows the King explained, “Shuri is Wakanda’s only princess and she is the head of our Development Group. As the Queen’s niece and one of the remaining members of the Wolf Cult, having Halima as an unofficial ambassador will show our confidence in M’Baku’s overtures of friendship.”

Fatuma frowned but T’Challa gave a toothless smile. For someone who disliked politics, he was frighteningly adept at the art. Perhaps we are fortunate he does not relish the game so greatly.

Working her jaw for a long moment, she finally conceded, “Halima will kick up a fuss, you know. She enjoys her work as a Dog.”

“I am well aware. But I have confidence she will not turn down what I am prepared to offer her.”

“Oh?”

T’Challa gave a conspiratorial grin. Fatuma raised her brows.

“Truly? That is how you intend to bribe her?”

“Do you think it is childish?”

“A little.”

“I have seen you baby your wolves, Fatuma, is bribing her with a panther cub such a ridiculous notion?”

Fatuma felt her cheeks flush as she thought of Sarabi and Zhali. She did tend to spoil them, that much was true--she planned to leave this meeting and go make them their favorite meal of rice, boiled chicken and yams. “I think Lord M’Baku will take issue with the sort of pets people like us keep.”

“And that is why he will not know about the cub until Halima is already there.” T’Challa turned down the hall which lead to his office—clearly there were reports and missives to review. “I will make the proposition at the next council meeting. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to inform Halima of her new assignment.” Fatuma made a mental note to order some of Halima’s favorite takeout.

“I did notice Lord M’Baku was not in attendance today.”

“One of his wives is ill—he wished to stay behind and care for her.”

“How many does he have?”

“Four, I believe.” Fatuma hummed thoughtfully and T’Challa snapped, “I will not bring back concubinage as the standard, so don’t you even think about asking.”

“The line of succession was never lean when the King had multiple wives, T’Challa.”

“Yes, but the lack of infighting is nice, don’t you think?” Fatuma sucked her teeth, knowing he was correct. “If you are so inclined, you and my mother may chat my ears off about dating when I return from my walkabout in the countryside.” The walkabout had been Ramonda’s idea—a way to restore confidence and security amongst the people following the upheaval of the past couple months. And it was standard for several weeks, up to a couple months a year, for the King of Wakanda to tour the provinces of the small kingdom.

“The crown is a heavy burden. You should have someone to share it with.”

“I have my mother, and Shuri. Nakia has never denied me a listening ear or advice. And I do have you.”

“Mmm.”

“How is Erik doing?” Fatuma’s brows furrowed and she frowned openly at T’Challa.

“You see him quite often.”

“And he volunteers little information about the hours between our time spent together.” T’Challa gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t spend much time with him, T’Challa.” It was true.

The first couple weeks of their new arrangement passed in relative peace.

Fatuma rose early and worked late, mustering up the energy to kick her shoes off in the front walkway before stumbling to the couch. There she would catch an hour of sleep before rousing herself enough to either fall into her bed or pass out on her study’s couch. Her heels were always in place by the entrance to her rooms in the mornings.

Fatuma made a point of checking on Erik’s movements every hour or so, pulling up map on her beads and studying it. So far, he hadn’t done much—he spent a lot of time in the spare study, in the kitchen, in the palace training grounds. The mind-healer assigned to him came to see him in her quarters.

Right now he was in the main living space, although she couldn’t ascertain what he was doing. If he’s eating on my couch, I will kill him. Fatuma thought, and closed her beads’ interface out. When she glanced over at T’Challa, there was a curious look on his face. It was one he got whenever he got down to the labs and tinkered, or was faced with a problem someone wanted him to solve. She didn’t like it and smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Whatever you are thinking of, put it from your head.” Turning away, she called, “I have to meet with Okoye—do not cause trouble while I am busy.” Her beads hummed with a message—when she saw it was blinking red, she frowned. That meant it was urgent.

“Me? Never.”

His laughter accompanied her all the way down the hall.

—

When Erik was a small boy, he found sitting still difficult.

His teachers all claimed that he was ‘bright’ but ‘disruptive’, simply because his lessons bored him. Who gave a shit—he did his work, he got straight As, so he amused himself. If his friends got distracted by him fiddling, he felt that it was their business, not his, but this attitude got him hauled into parental conference after parental conference.

His fourth-grade teacher, Ms. Duggan, sneered down her hawk beak nose at him as she recounted his latest offense, which had been attempting origami with his loose papers while the rest of the class worked on their math test.

(A math test that he had naturally aced.)

Although normally Erik’s mother accepted teachers’ critiques with a practiced smile, this time she dropped the pretense of politeness.

Demanding to know if her son quietly working on origami required both the principle and a hall monitor to be hauled in. When Ms. Duggan stammered, scrambling for answers, Dr. Cassandra Stevens gave Ms. Duggan a snarl of a smile and informed her that if she was called down to the school again for something so innocuous, she’d bring the board into this. She also informed Ms. Duggan that her son would not be serving a late detention, given that he was eight and she would not have him walking back to their apartment after the streetlights came on.

Erik had clutched his mother’s hand as she walked with him to the parking lot, keys jangling in her hand, black leather purse slung over her shoulder with his detention note peeking out, heels clacking loudly against the asphalt. She muttered under her breath in her thick Southern drawl, occasionally sucking her teeth and scowling. When they were both in her ‘82 Honda, she took a deep breath and stared out across the parking lot. When the heat in the car became too much, he tugged on her sleeve.

“Momma?” Erik asked timidly. “You mad at me?”

Cassandra took a deep breath and turned to him, sighing softly and ruffling his hair. “No, baby, of course not. But remember what I told you about doing extra in class?”

He pouted at her. “But I was bored.”

A fond, sad smile crossed her face. “I know, Erik.”

“Mr. Pritchard says you should skip me.” Erik said.

“E-Erik w-we’ve spoken a-about…” Cassandra tripped over her words and took a deep breath. Erik reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, which made her smile as she turned to him. “You know your daddy and I don’t want that.”

“Why not? I’m the smartest kid in school, everyone says so, Momma.”

“Because you are a little boy, not some excuse for the district to try and look good while failing everyone else left and right.” She swiped her thumb over the apple of his cheek. “Wouldn’t you miss Kareem, Danny and the others?”

He saw his mother’s point—he’d be sad without his friends, but still.

As quickly as his mother entered his mind, he banished her again. He wasn’t ready to mourn. He wasn’t ready to lay those memories to rest.

When will you be?

“Erik.” He took a deep breath and looked forward, at the woman staring across the table at him.

Madhi was a silver-haired woman with sharp eyes, a sharper tongue but a warm and honest heart. It was her job to be utterly impartial, and her commitment to her role stunned him. Not once did he detect resentment, anger or even disdain. Simply an open ear, sound advice, and perhaps even a bit of understanding. When he returned his attention to the elder woman she smiled a little.

“Done daydreaming?”

“I wasn’t.” He insisted almost childishly.

“Do you think you’re up to speak about your family today?” She laced her fingers together.

“Everything’s in my file, doc.”

“I knew Prince N’Jobu, Erik.” She reminded him. “And I’m aware of what’s in your file. But I’m talking about your father. Your sister. Your mother.”

Erik fell into silence and he saw Madhi give a quiet, understanding quirk of the lips. Progress was glacial and some part of him deep inside felt guilty about making her job harder, but at least she wasn’t gnashing her teeth in frustration or throwing her hands up. His first and last attempt at therapy back in the States ended with the doctor, some tweed-wearing Becky from Upstate New York throwing her hands up and trying to put him on medication. After that, he’d been reluctant to try again, but T’Challa had mandated this shit…

“Alright, what about your interactions with your family here? T’Challa tells me that the two of you sparred the other day.”

“It’s aight.” He shrugged lightly. Sometimes T’Challa’s capacity for forgiveness and tolerance made him want to smash his fist into his cousin’s face. Killmonger hissed that it was weakness and foolishness. Idiocy, even. Erik, Erik Stevens who once held an idealistic view of the world and of his future saw it for what it was. A form of strength. A willingness to embrace the shunned child, despite the disapproving gaze of the village. “It’s different.”

“From your exercises in the American military.”

“Yeah.” He felt, for the first time, that he was actually learning things again. As much as he hated to admit it, his cousin did know a thing or two.

Their session continued as normal, Mahdi silently reading through the journal she had him keeping, reminding him of their exercises and after bidding him a good evening, she departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

His mind, he found, was a frightening place. It was a thought he’d increasingly had, in the last few weeks.

After pulling the spear tip free of his torso, Erik had awoken expecting to see the afterlife, only to see a panther the size of a horse staring at him. He did not need to be told who he was facing, for the orchid-colored eyes which burned out of Her face told him that he faced a goddess.

He was inclined to spit at Her, curse Her for Her passivity, but something not quite fear and not quite reverence stopped him in his tracks.

N’Jadaka. Son of N’Jobu and son of Cassandra.

His father’s name had not stunned him. His mother’s had.

“If you’re here to tell me how you always loved me or some shit, I’m not tryna hear all of that.” Erik snarled. Bast tilted Her head and a low rumbling reached his ears. It didn’t take him long to figure out that She was laughing at him.

Even if I were so inclined, I would not beg forgiveness of you. Bast’s maw parted in mimicry of a smile.

“Where am I?”

You lie on the precipice between life and death. The goddess said. She got to her feet and loped past him. He felt inclined to follow. They passed between rows of baobabs, the call of the savannah distantly reaching his ears. He followed her into grass which tickled his bare feet, then rose to his knee, his waist and then above his head. My consort believes I should let you die. But death is easier than living—no, N’Jadaka, it is not yet your time. You carry my gift within you—and you shall use it for purpose higher than rage.

“What purpose?!” He roared at Her. “I had my purpose!”

Did you? Bast stared at him. Beyond war, Erik Stevens, N’Jadaka Udaku, what was your purpose? When the ashes settle, there must be something to fill the void. Revenge only sustains one for so long. And when revenge is taken, where does purpose go? After reducing the world to nothing, would you have ruled the ashes?

“I--”

And what of your mother’s ancestors? What of their sacrifices and struggles, only for war and destruction to be their ultimate legacy?

Erik was silent. The goddess gave what he assumed was a pointed look.

Go, Erik. The panther melted into the great, pale stalks of grass. Heal. Seek atonement. Rediscover your purpose.

The goddess had not visited him again, since that meeting. He had awoken on a metal slab, thrashing and screaming until his throat was raw. That had been three weeks ago.

The first familiar face he saw was T’Challa’s. His cousin looked exhausted, yet told Erik that he was pleased to see that he was awake.

“Why save me?” He’d demanded. His final wishes rang in his ears. "Just bury me in the ocean with my ancestors that jumped from the ships because they knew death was better than bondage." Yet here he was. Alive.

“Because She decided it was not your time.” T’Challa had answered simply. “And She can be insistent, when She is ready.”

And so he continued to live, all because a fucking god decided she wasn’t finished with his ass.

He couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh, to destroy something, or to cry. Bonus: Spark Lookbook! (Prologue, Ch. 1 and Ch. 2) Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @muse-of-mbaku @tchallasbabymama @blackpinup22 @shimmerwriter @theunsweetenedtruth @why-wait-4-eventually

#black panther #erik killmonger #black panther fanfiction #oc: fatuma emem #saltyblkgirlwrites #erik x oc #erik x fatuma #fic: spark

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 2 years

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Part 7

"TRAVIS," Ken moved behind him, tagging his back so he turned to face her. There was a lotta walking away with lil words. "What you saying? You saying it's me?"

"I'm neutral, I'm just saying.. Don't take this wrong.. you been trippin about not being taken seriously as a female but the second we treat you like one.. you don't want that."

"I don't want y'all acting DIFFERENT treating me like I'm too weak to handle my own shit."

"We supposed to let you fight a man?"

"I ain't say that. I said lemme hit him."

"You still can! Ken, what you want us to do? No, really? Cuz who else been by you since the beginning? ..Shawn would kill for you. Erik would kill for you. I would kill for you. And you'd slide for us, cuz that's what brothers do. Only you ain't the bro no more.. Dynamics is changing. We're tryna adapt and be sensitive and shit but it was easier when we were all just ignoring it."

Easier for who? Ken was miserable in that sexless middle ground. Honestly not much had changed. She was pretty, somewhat popular, and still miserable.

"...HIV though nigga? Really?"

"It's Erik," Travis glared like it should be obvious. What was she not getting. "That nigga unhinged anyway, but ain't that your best man? Your hitter? How you more joe bout a fake STD for someone who dragged your name through shit. Wasn’t Erik the one who helped you when you were drowning as Big Ken and none of us noticed? He transformed ya ass. Even if he did fall for Kendra, he was down for Ken first."

"What the fuck is happening," Ken fell into a seat on the couch. "So you telling me I owe Erik an apology?"

"I ain't saying shit. But if someone was fuckin with him, especially if he was already in a low place, how would you react?"

Kendra sighed dropping her head between her knees to scratch her head in aggravation. Not only did she not get a chance to swing on Trent herself, but now Kenneth wouldn't talk to her. Nothing was going right, she still had no man, there were rumors about her, she was fuckin up with her boys, and she had to apologize to Shawn and Erik.

"Being pretty fuckin sucks, the hell was I thinking," she mumbled rubbing her face.

"Welcome to my life," Travis smirked trying to make her smile. She threw a pillow instead.

Ken hopped up the small set of stairs to Erik's bedroom where he was lying there chatting to Shawn. Instantly they looked up, Erik rolling his eyes in a subtle way that still made Ken wanna bust him in the eye.

"Sorry if I flipped," her monotone apology stood waiting for them to take it or leave it. It was hard to apologize when she still didn't feel she'd done anything wrong. "I guess y'all heart was in the right place. I ain't mad at it.."

"We good," Shawn nodded looking to Erik who hesitated before agreeing.

"We good."

"Cool," Ken nodded turning to head out but hesitating herself. "...HIV though," she asked looking them both in the eye so they all laughed at the ridiculousness. "That's what y'all thought of?"

"Hey," Erik's head shook as if it was something he'd done on impulse. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. And it was funny as hell watching his face when he thought he'd contracted something. Meanwhile me and Shawn taking all his shit like come up off them sneakers son."

"The fuck," Kendra laughed picturing it.

They'd done some wild shit over the years but this took the cake. "Y'all dumb as hell.."

"Not gone lie, I enjoyed beating the nigga’s ass," Shawn admitted what we all already knew. He was laid-back until someone pushed him.

"SHIT! The potato skins! They probably all cold now. I hate it when they get cold."

"Just put em back in the oven a few minutes," Erik squinted getting up outta bed. "Damn y'all some children, I swear."

---

A few days passed by and after passing Kenneth so many times and having him avoid her altogether, she decided to take control of the situation by waiting for him on his way to his next class where she knew he'd be. The same place they always had to pass by between buildings. She spotted him and took her opportunity, walking up on him and snatching his hand. She pulled him and walked him to her parked car pushing him into the passenger seat, turning on the air, and locking the door with the two of them inside. She figured he had to talk if there was nowhere else to go.

"You been ignoring my calls," she stated bluntly watching his face as he pouted looking away to put space between them mentally. "So it's like that now?"

He sighed widening his eyes as looked ahead like he was being kept away from his class.

"It would behoove you to know.. your fuckin dumbass brother doesn't have HIV. And if he does, he had it long before my friends did anything. If you ask me, he deserved to have his ass beat."

Kenneth snorted hiding it with a look out the window.

"Look, I'm not about to suck your dick over it. You can stay mad I just thought you should know," Ken unlocked the doors ready for him to make his choice quickly.

"I'm not mad," Kenneth muttered with a deep sigh. "It's Trent's fault. Still.. I don't like your boyfriend," he looked over making direct eye contact. Ken felt butterflies at the word. Boyfriend.

"Relax," she stared through the windshield at students walking by with purpose. "We're all just friends. Been friends since kids. We've gone through too much together to let emotions pile up and break us apart.. So all that crazy shit from before was just before.. It's squashed... Your brother happened to bring out the ugly."

"Hm."

"Hm," Ken challenged.

"Thennn, how about a lil game. Low stakes. Just between you and me. Lil bit of fun," Kenneth winked playfully, his mischievous eyes fixed on hers.

"What you thinking," her eyes lowered in curiosity. She wondered if she'd regret it. The last time she'd played along Erik had confessed his attraction to her. She'd confessed hers too in anger. It had nearly broken up their iron-clad friendship. Could she risk something like that again?

"Just follow me," he smiled with his pearly whites, and it was a hard thing to resist.

---

Nearly three weeks down the road, things were looking up. Despite still being lonely with no love life and no potentials, Kendra was appreciating her platonic relationships more. She was also seeing the new attention she recieved for the empty attention it was. Now that she'd lived with it a while, she could do without it.

She no longer wanted just any guy, she wanted a good one. She felt that she deserved it. One she actually liked who would genuinely like her. Someone she didn't have to try so hard around. Someone she didn't have to pretend to be perfect for. Someone who would accept both Ken and Kendra and love them equally.

Something like that seemed impossible.

She looked in her home mirror adjusting her large boobs in her new yellow-gold satin halter gown so that they sat well and the tape would keep her nipples from popping out if she happened to move the wrong way.

Her skin was glowing with shea butter and shimmer oil. Her long curls were pulled back artfully in a large decorative claw clip. She wore stud earrings and heels with an anklet she'd purchased online that looked expensive though it was $5.

Your carriage awaits, flashed in her texts and she walked out to meet Kenneth who leaned against the outside of his and Trent's shared car, like a GQ ad in his suit. He smiled opening the passenger door and guiding her in.

"Don't you look good enough to eat," he teased as he slid into the driver's seat looking her over.

"Oh, stop," she feigned shyness covering and uncovering her cleavage while he pulled off to the restaurant. They walked in together arm and arm.

"I got the best looking date here," he whispered proudly in her ear as they were seated causing her to grin. "Honestly. What was I thinking that time in the mall?"

"You were thinking with your dick," Kendra fired.

"How was I supposed to know you'd be this fine? The ugly duckling turned into a swan."

"Whatever bitch. Just don't make fun of how I eat. I was struggling last time tryna figure out which fork to use."

"I noticed," he snorted getting kicked under the table. She was still confused, using whatever cutlery she wanted, this time without shame. "I was tryna fuck, I wasn't gonna roast you. But I will now."

She kicked him again as they chuckled.

She shared more about her friendship with Travis, Shawn, and Erik, how it went back to middle school. They had secret handshakes and shit.

Kenneth and Trent didn't have the handshakes but they did have games they played together and games they played to outdo each other. They kept score. It was borderline meticulous.

"Y'all are all kinds of fucked up," Kendra shook her head while Kenneth spilled the beans on things they'd done in the past. Scandalous escapades, threesomes, and practical jokes.

"Have you ever really loved anybody," Kendra wondered.

"You mean being in love? No. I don't know if that can happen while I'm still in college. I'm at a stage in my life where I just wanna fuck. Where is love gonna fit into that?"

Kendra sighed shaking her head some more. It was a shame. She felt that he deserved love just as she did. But if he didn't want it, that was on him. As for her, she craved it. She'd never experienced it and not for lack of trying.

If she could only attain it...

"Hey," he snapped her from her thinking, "Toast me."

She raised her glass.

"Here I am with a beautiful young lady eating steak on a Friday night. Though neither of us getting any.. Here's to us having fun tonight."

Together they sipped. And sipped.. and sipped, Kenneth having paid the bill in advance.

"Kendra."

Ken turned at the sound of her name looking from Kenneth to Erik who stood beside the table with his own date. A statuesque girl she'd seen before on campus. She was a stone cold fox.

"Deja vu," she squinted feeling tipsy. A little frisky from the wine. "Sup E.." He didn't look happy to see her with.. "Kenneth," she pointed to clear things up. "Not Trent."

"Tiara, Kendra.. and her.. friend Kenneth."

"Boyfriend," Kenneth corrected. "Good seeing you.. again," he winked. Kendra didn't miss the bewilderment that flashed momentarily on Erik's face. She looked to Kenneth again wondering if he'd seen it. The shit-eating grin said he had.

"I've seen you before," Tiara smiled reaching out to touch Kendra's hand. This one's actually friendly, Kendra thought genuinely surprised.

"I knew you looked familiar," Kendra pointed feeling more like a bitch for going along with what Kenneth had planned. "You are stunning."

"Kendra, can I talk to you for a min- mm," Erik folded his hands over his mouth stopping himself. He shook his head closing his eyes and starting again. "Nevermind.... I'll call you tomorrow, ok? Be safe getting home."

It looked like it hurt him to turn around and mind his business. So used to being in hers lately.

She looked at Kenneth and they both laughed to irritate Erik further. He hooked an arm around Tiara's lower back gently escorting her away.

"Thought you'd punk out on me. Seems like you bout it afterall," Kenneth rushed watching the the backs of the couple as they retreated. "So you know where he'd go next?"

"He takes them all to the same places," Kendra smirked gulping the last of her wine. She used to imagine it was her in those wild stories he told. It never seemed possible back then. It was just her pathetic little secret. "They'll go stargazing," her eyes rolled. "Something really cheesy where they can gaze into each other's eyes," she blinked dopily.

He jumped pulling her from her seat. She almost dropped the glass. He guided her back to the car to tail the couple from a safe distance.

"He's gonna see you," Kendra slouched but Kenneth was confident.

"He's too shook to notice. I bet he's not even talking to that girl. Sexy ass.. Shit.. If I play my cards right.. I might get laid afterall," he smirked.. "We both might."

A glance to Kendra and she knew exactly what he meant.

But that couldn't happen. And if it could.. it shouldn't!

...Should it?

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #erik x oc #mirror mirror

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jellyluchi · 2 months

Text

Mother Language

A/N: My first selfship fic for POTO... Naveed is my hc name for the Persian, and he (or the Sultana from Persia) is not related by blood to Rose. I can answer how Rose came to be at the Opera house but I could not tell you why or how she came to live with Erik… There's not enough mommy kink fics with Erik so I wanted to change that.

Pairing: Erik x Rose Sultana Genre: NSFW Content warnings: cunnilingus, mommy kink, use of the term little boy Summary: In which Erik struggles with his personal projects and throws a tantrum only to be put into his place by his lover...

AO3 Link

If graves were homes of the dead, every tombstone would shelter beneath it a cold and empty living room, followed by bed chambers and wash closets. But the dead do not need such facilities. Yet, Rose must ask herself how different could it be living five cellars below ground to the unmoving corpses.

For one who detests the shadows, Rose became accustomed to its presence with terrifying quickness. Perhaps it was his influence. Or maybe she dug deep enough into her heart to reveal a desire for complete isolation. With him by her side, it is difficult to tell.

It is no wonder a man such as himself should live like the dead, pin drop silence and darkness ever present in his abode, and the morbid stench that follows him like a shadow permeating from every surface.

But as he likes to speculate, everyone must grow used to eternity. And every step out of India cemented her feet firmer into her personal timeless existence. That, Rose accepted long ago.

Perhaps it is the reason for which she finds herself encased between the dank walls, still warm and protected from whatever creatures lurk the opera’s belly. Fingers curling around her book, Rose enunciates the foreign words with difficulty. Soft light accompanies her solitary presence in the living room, the fire by the hearth her only companion. She used to wonder about the final destination of the rising smoke but now knows better than to question his engineering process.

Speaking of which…

Sudden loud thuds, shrieks, and shattered glass echoes through the wet walls, muffled but still alarming. Quickly setting aside her reading, Rose races to the study. Fear and worry grip her heart in equal measures. But not for her own life as it is for Erik’s, a sentiment that mirrors uncle Naveed’s in the way the Opera Ghost does not enjoy.

But his display of such foolish recklessness was just starting to lessen with every season. Apprehensive of how he could harm himself, Rose throws open the door in a flurry.

“What the devil is wrong?!” Rose has always limited her inappropriate language to a handful of special occasions. And this seems very fitting. From the papers littering the floor to a broken lamp which thankfully did not ignite a fire, the state of disarray could only reflect Erik’s psyche at the moment as he crouches across from her position.

“Erik?” She starts, cautious but collected so as to not alarm him. How such a tall statured man could lower himself nearly flat on the ground and look so small she can never understand.

“Leave me!” Erik blares, hands wrapped around his temple and the yellow glow of his eyes so blazing in the stark darkness, Rose should be shaking under her skirts.

“You do not speak to me that way,” she says, her tone even and her steps getting closer. “Erik, please tell me what's wrong. Please.”

Oh how she wishes she knew his tongue now. If only to break open into his heart that he could not conceal in his mother language.

His mother language…

Sniveling in the corner, Erik makes no indication of having heard her plea, deciding not to answer the question. He can be so secretive whenever he pleases, pushing her out of his sphere with such violent resistance, it gives her whiplash. But that is why she must be this way…

“If you will not tell me,” she counters, moving to the desk for a look, “I will simply have to-”

The black of Erik’s mask conceals his expression, but the low agitation of his voice makes him sound like a predator ready to pounce. “Do not!”

Rose manages to find red inked papers partially torn and annotated, unfamiliar music notes dancing across the pages before a flurry of movement stops her completely. Her lover’s imposing figure stands before her, a strong grip on her arm that forces the papers out of her hands, gliding to the floor in a dramatic flourish.

Gasping, Rose faces the eyes that burn with yellow fire at her miscalculated action. “Ah! You’re hurting me,” she exclaims with pain, her wrist unable to move due to its restraint.

Suddenly, as if released from a trance, the man loosens his fingers. Ashamed, Erik takes away his hand, the worried expression of his face completely masked but his eyes dim their glow considerably when meeting Rose’s deep brown ones.

“I have hurt you,” he says, tone dripping with shame and panic. “Erik has disappointed his little Rose…” His voice trails into a pained whisper and telltale signs of his particular rhetoric threaten his descent into madness.

The once towering form standing nearly two heads above her, falls onto its knees and Rose knows he will beg for her forgiveness before he even utters a single word. While the momentary shock melts from her mind, she takes the opportunity to direct his attention away, knowing these instances are crucial for him.

“Are you quite sorry, Erik?” She probes gently. “Come here.”

Sitting on his desk chair, she gestures him forward, finding it amusing the way he crawls to her like a kicked puppy looking for food. She allows him to rest his head on her skirts, caressing the few locks of hair that remain atop his head.

Patience has always brought the best results with one such as her lover. She imagines not many have afforded Erik the luxury of their time or care. The most she can do would be to let him speak on his own terms.

“Erik is sorry,” he says, his words wet with tears and no doubt snot under his mask. Heaving at the realization of his mistake, Erik’s mind threatens to spiral into melancholy. At the thought of having to be alone within the walls, at the thought of his little painter leaving him for good. “You will leave your Erik…”

The silk of his mask which covers his mouth moves from the pressure of air passing through the fabric, a new style that facilitates more kisses among other things. At his declaration, Rose can only shake her head no.

“I know you are sorry,” she replies. “Do you want to fix it?” Sometimes she gathers he is much too exhausted with himself to even right his wrongs.

“Yes,” comes his response after a brief pause. Erik always sounds uncertain of himself during moments such as these, looking for her guidance like a dying light in a storm.

“Good.” Her lips curve into a soft smile, voice still controlled by its volume. “Why don’t you start with setting the lamp?” Rose suggests. And her words do not fall on deaf ears as Erik scrambles to fulfill her request, looking to Rose for approval.

“Very good. And your music notes?”

It is the wrong suggestion, because as soon as the papers are within his grasp, Erik makes the mistake of looking upon his failures, and the frustration starts to eat at him once more, growling and tearing them to shreds.

“Erik!” Rose calls. “Look at what you’ve done…” Disappointment palpable in her voice, she does her best to regain his attention. Immediately regretful, Erik’s mood pendulums to the other extreme, begging for her forgiveness.

“Erik is sorry!” He says, tears of frustration now wetting the silk as he crawls about. Finding the hems of her dress he clutches them for dear life. “Please let Erik fix it!”

“Do you promise to do better?”

“Erik promises!” His desperation heightens, voice sounding distressed, and Rose realizes perhaps a different approach is required.

“Why don’t we give you a reward,” she says, guiding his hands. Cold, long fingers send little shocks to the skin of her calves as she uses his digits to push her skirts higher. The chill of the study permeates within her and she feels a gentle shiver.

Speechless at the revelation of her legs, Erik watches with rapt attention, hands shaking in her grip yet hungry for more contact. She forgoes any stockings while at home and Erik’s heart threatens to give out at the sight of her plump thighs, the skin soft to the touch. Even in the darkness, her warm brown skin manages to possess an ethereal quality.

When the little tufts of intimate hair peeks from beneath her open drawers, Erik’s breath hitches, his music forgotten. In fact his brain matter is nothing but mush. His anger now simmering and turning into desire makes him dizzy. “Rose…” he says, breathless, and the longing in his voice nearly breaks her.

“Use your mouth, Erik,” she says, and this time it is not a question but a command which she knows he will obey.

From the gentle nudge of his hands to her thighs, Erik lowers himself to her, allowing her hands to pull the silk out of the way. It’s a strange sensation feeling his icy, rigid skull on her skin. Rose squeaks, feeling his inexperienced tongue dance around her entrance. Despite the times they have shared this exact activity, he still hasn’t found his footing quite clearly.

Breathing little moans of pleasure, Rose does not shy away from her praises. “Good boy,” she whispers, feeling the ice of his thin lips turn cool from the heat of her folds. “Very good boy.”

Her words have their intended effect as Erik groans into her, the glow of his eyes never leaving her form. “Maman…” he says between licks getting lost in the pleasure that is not even his own. “Maman, please…”

“Here,” she guides, moving her hips to his mouth with more force, enjoying the lewd groans that seem to escape him with every minute passed. After several tries, Rose finds her climax, panting for breath only to cry out from the overstimulation.

“That’s enough! Erik has made maman proud,” she tells him, stopping his movements to a gentle halt. Erik’s stare boars into her and she knows what he wants.

“Do you want to know what maman will let you do if you clean the glass?”

Smiling at his enthusiastic nod, Rose utilizes her silver tongue once more. And thinks of every little thing that makes this dreary, lonely tombstone home feel every bit less solitary.

#poto oc #phantom of the opera oc #phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #Erik #Erik x oc #not jojo #oc stuff #selfship stuff #rose #n sfw #fics #sid writes #phantom of the opera x oc #erik/oc #phantom/oc

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les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques · 6 months

Text

A little more of what I’m up to:

If I ever let you leave Mazanderan, Behrouz once said, wind rifling through his hair, you must promise me there will be no more reckless violence. No more death upon your hands. There is a worthy man somewhere inside of you. Make something good with him.

At first, Erik laughed—right in his little Daroga’s bonny face, blessings on its memory—at the impossibility of such a promise. A man composed of death from head-to-toe had a right to his natural trade; take a sailor off the water and he will stumble around terra firma on his sea legs, after all.

But as the decades began to creep up on his tenure in Paris, Erik was mildly pleased to learn that there was little difference between killing and making art; perhaps it was why it had become so easy to replace one with the other almost entirely, save for a necessary indulgence. Destroy a sheet of newsprint, or else smatter it with carmine lake, rich as blood. Squeeze the life from a metal tube of paint, grind a pencil into a useless stub, and watch them slowly crumple into uselessness before your eyes. To say nothing of how hanging or stretching out a canvas was a considerably tidier affair than hanging or stretching out a men. Canvas did not piss itself or beg for god, did not leave behind wailing widows or round-eyed children. You were its god. You, its lover. You, the one who remained behind to witness their legacy.

Besides, it is not the inherently good man who makes art, or so he told himself, whenever his past sins slinked up against his memory like a cat. Rather, it is the man searching for his own meaning who does.

And ashamed as he was to admit it, music seemed to only bring pain these days. For though his violin inevitably found its way into his hands on a regular basis, song always blew through him like wind, biting and fast-fleeting. Such was first love grown cold, or so the poets said. Yet despite his crimes, he was young enough to believe a part of him was still capable of creating some sliver of beauty. Architecture had returned to him naturally in this phase of life, yet the Opera was Garnier’s child, however much he might interfere and hassle the man otherwise. And at the end of the day, whatever else he designed on his own terms, he was still building worlds for other men to inhabit. Men who still could live in this one unmolested and admired, despite their transgressions.

Such were the hard truths to confront in trying to exist like those men, nevermind the nightmare of his face: that music was ingrained and inevitable, impossible to forget because of the way it had woven itself around the tragedy that was his existence. That destroying buildings required a level of violence which he told himself was no longer within him. But drawings—paintings—ah! They were like mirrors. Easily smashed, highly forgettable if you saw enough of them in this world. And every day, a new luminary rose amongst society, only to be forgotten amongst a fresh wave of other image-makers. Fair play, then. Let him be a creator and an iconoclast—it was a step above being a monster.

It was in keeping with this train of thought that he dragged himself to the Salon that spring of 1865, false nose in place, ready to brave the brunt of a Paris thirsty for meaning in this rare period of bucolic nothingness. He’d been out of the world for most of his life, yet never had Erik felt the longing to finally join it so keenly; it whispered, low and lovely, that such a world was only just slightly out of his reach. And why should he believe otherwise? He’d a beautiful home on a quiet street in Montparnasse, a small office staffed with a handful of spineless but otherwise competent yes men, and a contract to one of the most important projects the city had seen in decades—perhaps centuries. Barring his ugliness, he was almost a gentleman. And modern gentlemen, it was understood, were men of art.

All of the chatter around that season’s exhibition concerned Manet’s latest ode to Paris: a massive vignette depicting some lady of ill-repute and her maid, the former staring directly at the viewer like she was Venus herself and not some stunted, stubby-legged creature summoned from the depths of Pigalle; he laughed when first saw it, delighted in the fact that most people in the room were horrified enough by her presence to ignore his entirely—despite the fact that a million such women floated in and our of their lives as easily as the breeze. Despite the fact that such women fucked the attending husbands, enraged their poor wives, and spent the money that might have gone to their children or good names on whatever it took to survive and, perhaps, survive well.

From beneath the wide brim of his hat, Erik glanced around the gallery; he imagined spotting his darling Behrouz’s amused scandal, found himself hoping to spot a convivial smile, or some other scrap of kindred humanity. Something to tell him that he was not completely alone in the world as he always knew was, deep down.

That was how he first saw her: a tall camellia amongst withering irises, dressed from head to toe in black silk despite the delightful May weather. Beneath the little veil on her hat was a face worthy of Marianne—a straight, patrician nose; wide, almondine eyes; a mouth that looked as if it were sculpted for the sole purpose of indiscriminate, egalitarian kissing. But as beautiful as she was, it was the expression on her face that arrested him so. It was hard to describe, save for that it was something like a mixture of humiliation and proud understanding—the same emotion he felt as the crowds of Nizhny Novgorod showered him in gold in praise of his ugliness. Her spine remained ramrod straight all the while, despite the large man on her arm chortling and whispering something in her ear, the corner of her mouth downturning ever so slightly. Even as her chaperone walked away, she remained fixed in that position, save for the occasional nervous swipe of a gloved thumb over her parasol’s handle.

And somewhere, above the offended din of the masses, Erik heard a music he’d long forgotten—the awful thumping of his heart.

#the phantom of the opera #erik #gaston leroux #fan fic #original characters #pre-canon #art history au #i gotta use my art history degree for something #original character #erik x oc

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