I do NOT own this image. It also kinda doesn’t have anything to do with the chapter but mmm he looks good.
Summary: The reality of your situation settles over you and you have to make a difficult choice on what to do moving forward
Pairing: Erik KIllmonger x Reader
Warnings: Angst, whoopsie, I promise it’ll get happier…. eventually
A/N: Hey guys I hope you enjoy this chapter, please like and share. I’m trying to give this writing thing a go and it would mean a lot if you could give it a quick share. if you wanna be tagged in future parts let me know and I’ll add you
A/N: Hey babies, I really hope y’all are being safe in these uncertain times. Here is more cuteness. It’s a bit long, but I have ground that I wanna cover and this is what will make sure everything gets touched on. Happy reading!!
Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black Reader
Anxiety has fully set in as the class reunion was underway. Wiping your hands on the sleek fabric of your little black dress, you frantically check in on the headset with your team at their designated stations in the auditorium. Leah manned the bar, Terri held down the games corner, Janiece at the food table and Renee acted as sentry at the DJ booth. Eyes were everywhere to anticipate your guests’ every need, while you were at the entrance, greeting everyone who arrived ready to get a blast from the past.
I wondered downstairs the next day and began to make myself breakfast. As I spread the jam on my toast and began to munch Charles came into the kitchen. "Morning Mind-Reader.“ I smiled. "Morning (Y/N).” He smiled back. “Do you smell that?” I raised an eyebrow at his question. "Smell what?“ He walked towards me and took a whiff of the air around me before full on smelling me. "Uh..Charles…Dude….what the hell?” "Yup. You smell divine today.“ I raised an eyebrow Was Charles hitting on me?! "T-Thanks?!?” I couldn’t help it..I blushed. Suddenly the telepath put a hand on either side of the wall behind me. And leaned ever so closely as if he were going to kiss me. “Charles wha-” "Shh..“ He shushed me. Pressing a slender finger against my lips to silence me. I was so. Fucking. Confused. What.In.The.Actual.Fuck. "Uh..” "You’re lips are rather soft. Aren’t they?“ "Uhm. I..wouldn’t…know..I don’t just go around feeling my lips all day. Like ‘Wow (Y/n) your lips are soft. How DO you do it?!?’ "I rolled my eyes. "How do you do it?” "Like how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsi-pop Charles; The World May Never know.“ Charles took his thumb and wiped the corner of my lip delicately with it. Before popping his thumb in his mouth and sucking it, before pulling it out of his mouth with a resounding pop. "You had some jam there.” He said Just like that Charles pushed off the wall, freeing me from his entrapment and walked out of the kitchen. What the hell was that about? I asked myself. I turned to put the strawberry jam away when I noticed the knife I had used to prepare my toast was bent all the way backwards and twisted in an ugly way. Oh no. Raven was right. Erik! I ran out of the kitchen to find my friend. I check the library. His study. The Kitchen. Every room in the mansion But he was no where to be found. I finally found Raven. "Raven!“ I ran to her "What?! What is it?!” "It’s Erik! He’s gone! I can’t find him. I was in the kitchen and…“ I spilled everything that had happened. "Okay woah. I told Charles and I wanted his help confirming Erik liked you..” "YOU TOLD CHARLES?!?! CHARLES COULD JUST READ ERIK’S MIND!“ "That’d be no fun!” Raven countered. "Unbelievable! UNBELIEVABLE! HELP ME FIND HIM.“ "Okay! Okay! I think I know where he is.”
About thirty minutes later Raven had dressed me in bar clothes. A simple red fit and flare pin up dress with matching pumps. She too was dressed. Together we went to Erik’s favorite watering hole. As we walked through the doors out of the cold loud music blared. Erik! I saw him at the bar and rushed to him. "Erik! Oh thank God you’re okay! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!“ "What do you care?!” He snapped his words slurring slightly. "Oh..You’re..drunk..Come on lets go.“ I grabbed his bicep. "No.I’m not ready to go.” He stumbled off the bar stool and into me. Raven joined me then, and together we dragged a resistant Erik out of the bar. When we got back to the mansion Raven decided to leave us alone to talk. "If you need anything call for Charles in your mind.“ She whispered. Before walking off. "Erik. You’re drunk. Here have some water.” "No.“ "Erik, look what you saw in the kitchen.” "You mean what I know I saw?“ "It wasn’t like that. Charles was trying to make you jealous. To prove you like me the way I like you.” His eyes lit up, before darkening with drunkenness again. "You lie.“ He sneered. "Why would I get jealous of Charles? As if I felt any romantic inkling towards you at all.” "Erik…“ I whispered. "You can’t mean that…” "I do. I mean it. They say you’re the most honest when you’re drunk.“ He said, leaning against the door frame. "Well then!” I balled my hands into fist at my sides again. Aggravated with him. “What about the knife? Bent beyond repair?!” He hesitated a bit before answering. "I was bored, waiting for you and Charles to get done flirting. It was quite revolting really. To see someone flirting with one so revolting as you.“ I felt tears brimming in my eyes as my feelings for Erik began to suffocate my heart. "You can’t mean that…” I murmured. Looking down as the tears threatened to spill over. I heard his footsteps approach me but I didn’t dare look up at him. I smelt the alchol coming off his breath as he spoke the last words that would shatter me. "I mean it.“ He whispered. "Two days ago? In the snow? That was just…something to pass the time. Harmless flirting if you will. I was trying to rope you in. See if it was as impossible as it seemed. And look at that! It wasn’t. It was easy to fool you into caring for me.” The sound of skin on skin echoed through the room. A harsh stinging sound as my palm connected with his cheek. I ran up the stairs, not daring to look back as the tears began to spill over. They blinded me. And I stumbled up the stairs. "Erik! What did you DO?!?!“ I heard Raven scream, and then I closed my door. ”(Y/N)? (Y/N)? It’s Charles dear open the door now.“ "Go away!!” I hollered. My voice coming out choked through the sobs as I quite literally ripped the dress off of me and climbed into just an over-sized t-shirt. “I don’t want to be seen!” "Move.“ I heard Raven’s voice. "I’m coming in whether you like it or not.” I heard the door open and then close again. My eyes shut tightly as I sobbed, cuddling my cat into my body. I felt the bed shift as Raven laid down beside me. "He didn’t mean it..(Y/N)…He’ll come around.“ She traced circles on my back. And while I cried myself to sleep. I was just grateful. Grateful for a friend like Raven.
The lounge is peppered with generations of blackness. A couple of teenagers who appear to be all on their own sit together, drawn to each other by no other factor other than age and circumstance. They look up as you pass.
“Brown skin girl Your skin just like pearls The best thing in the world Never trade you for anybody else” - Beyoncé, Saint Jhn, and Wizkid feat. Blue Ivy Carter
A/N: This is one of my participations to the Quarantine Writing Challenge proposed by @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup (won’t let me tag you) I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ve also been dying to use this song for a fic because I love it so much
Word Count: 1783
******************* You hummed to yourself trying to keep yourself calm with this fidgeting little girl between your legs. The fidgeting little girl is your adorable, sweet, and at the moment, very annoying daughter Sarai. You were trying to do her hair but it was like she didn’t want you to. She wasn’t usually like this so you figured she was just having an off day where she didn’t want her hair messed with. You understood completely. You kept on understanding until it got too damn irritating.
You huffed putting the wide-tooth comb on the bed beside you. “Ok Sarai. What’s the problem?”
You could hear her pouting and she mumbled something incoherent.
“Excuse me? Mommy is speaking to you clearly so can you give mommy the same treatment back? And face me…” You turned her around to look at her pouty, dismal expression. It hurt you to see your baby so sad. “When I’m talking to you. That’s how a conversation works. Now tell mommy what’s wrong.”
“Where exactly are you taking me,” you slur through toothpaste, spitting it in the sink before rinsing. It’s still early, 8:45, but he’s fast, putting on clothes in his room while you take the bathroom.
“Well you need clothes, I ain’t forget.”
“And hair products, a curling iron, satin cap, my own body wash,” you add using his mouthwash. It’s good he has extras of the basics. The bathroom door is cracked so he can walk in and hand you a stick of deodorant which you jam under your arms and set in an empty drawer with your toothbrush for your own. “Okay, v-neck come through.”
Full business casual, he comes up beside you in the mirror brushing his shaved sides down and you walk out to put your shoes back on, wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
The way out of the building is just as smooth as the way in. You take a staircase to a display where his glossy burgundy BMW sits with tinted windows and custom tags.. his trophy.. and then you get in. He presses a button and you sink through tinted glass looking out at the view until you reach ground and the wall goes up behind you allowing him to back out onto pavement.
“I’ll never get over that,” you mumble looking through the side mirror to watch the opening shut. His own private entrance. A ‘sky garage’ he called it.
“What do you think about Black Wall Street?” He’s driving somewhat normal now, only six miles over the speed limit and you haven’t felt like you were going to fall through the door yet which is a plus.
“Black business, black mecca.”
“It’s been the pinnacle of black successful business. If you look at Tulsa, Jackson Ward, Durham.. We were at the height of self-sufficiency. We had bankers, builders, mechanics, electricians, cooks, shoemakers, tailors…. hairstylists. Anything you needed, you’d get from your own people and it worked! We were putting money in each other’s pockets and building wealth with each other, taking pride in our blackness instead of tryna be the third white race… you know Asians are the second.”
“I was with you until that last one.”
“Nia, you know what happened to all them cities?”
“They were destroyed.”
“By who? Did we destroy ourselves?”
“Boy. Who are you, Dr. Umar?”
“That’s what you think?”
You touch the small black, red, and green beaded necklace with the wooden brown carved Africa pendent sitting in his cupholder.
“Umar Johnson is an ignorant misogynist who uses his platform to spread false information while robbing his followers. That’s what you think of me?”
You blink. “No, I only meant the superwoke part.”
“Unlike him, I have a Ph.D and I don’t think AIDS came from gay black men, but it was intended to decimate the black population.”
“I get it, don’t compare you,” you mutter watching the Oakland city views through your tinted window. People are out, strutting and power-walking on sidewalks and jogging across streets to work.
“Who destroyed our black wall streets?”
“White people,” you sigh giving him what he wants.
“Never forget that the US National Guard united with White Nationalists in 1921 to bomb and shoot up the Greenwood District of Tulsa. They destroyed 35 blocks of self-sufficient black business, murdering an estimated 200 people and injuring more. This is what happens when you and I pull ourselves up by our bootstraps in this country. Jackson Ward? Socio-economic assault. They built a highway right through it and put their own businesses around it to undercut our efforts. They chased us out and sent us to housing projects then filled them with drugs. You see where I’m going with this?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
“Nia, you’ve seen my dreams, you’ve seen where I’ve been. I’ve stood on both sides and seen firsthand how easy it is to infiltrate and decimate an entire city, a region even with the right intelligence and firepower. Hell, I’ve even pulled the trigger and I’m not proud, but it was a necessary evil for me to see that it doesn’t matter how strong you build or how pure your intentions are. When a government decides that you’ve surpassed the ceiling of poverty they’ve designed specifically for you they’ll wipe out a generation, drug you up, and restart you from zero. Do you understand how deep this goes?”
You finger the beaded necklace in your lap. Of course you understand everything he’s saying, but what he’s expecting from you is a different story and you won’t agree to anything prematurely.
“Where’s the end,” you ask. How will he know when he’s accomplished this great mission he’s been on for most of his life? It’s all he breathes. Will he even survive without the fight as his purpose? Keeping your silence, you watch his profile as he turns left.
“Africa. Africa was the start and it’ll be the end, but in the meantime we need to provide legal and physical protection here, major city by city. We need safe houses, secured and armed.. built to withstand the force of a nuclear weapon.”
“How will you manage that?”
“How long will it take is the question.” Pulling up to a building standing among other buildings, this one is as big as a high school with lettering across the front reading Wakandan International Outreach Center. Temporarily, you put the fact that you’re supposed to be shopping to the back of your mind. You’ve heard of this place on the news, but somehow you didn’t put this together. He parks in front of some well manicured bushes in a space marked for the CEO.
“You’re the CEO?” You look around at the cars in the lot, the WIOC bus, and to the people walking inside.
“You ain’t know? Ms. See Everything?”
“If I saw everything, I’d have figured this thing out between us. Don’t ya think?”
He steps out and adjusts his tie. He’s got the grey v-neck sweater vest, the white collared shirt underneath. The navy chinos.. and the navy oxfords.
Getting out, you spin showing off the same outfit you’ve been wearing and his brows raise subtly as you walk in beside him. Immediately he’s rushed with greetings from the three people at the front desk, two guys and a girl, all wearing black WIOC shirts with blue and purple lettering that reminds you of a 90s paper cup pattern. Very stylish and retro.
The girl with the baby face and two long feed-in braids, is reaching out, grabbing your hand to stamp with some sort of mallet which he gently blocks with two fingers on her wrist before it makes contact.
“Shakila, this is an affiliate,” he stares. The girl straightens, backing up meekly and the guy to her right.. the one with a rougher feel and a troublesome glint in his eye can’t be over 21, you guess. He rolls out from behind the desk and you see he’s wearing all black roller skates with orange and green swirled wheels. They look custom.
“72 people in the building, boss, counting you two. Ghost and Slim out patrolling, say we gotta bluebird.. 5-0 campin at Fuller’s they up to something but they been quiet..up there since about 8:15 this morning.”
“Keep watching. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Yezzir.” He rolls off down the hall and makes a right, disappearing.
“Donnie, how you doin,” Erik asks the man who’s been reading a magazine, chillin. He’s bald, light skin, and looks over 40. He’s also as big as Erik! His muscles make his t-shirt took like a muscle shirt, it’s tight, but it seems more of a personal style choice than an issue of not being able to get a bigger shirt.
Erik taps the desk before continuing down a short hall that splits into three and you walk alongside him, making a left when he makes a left and passing two young boys in the hall.
“They thought I was bringing you in for assistance,” he clarifies and your face scrunches. “But you and your salon might be interested in becoming affiliates after I give you the tour.”
“Really? Wow..” This thing with him just keeps getting stranger.
“This is the women’s dorm,” he stops in front of a large expanded room, a space filled with about.. “Twenty beds, ten bunk beds. Forty women can sleep here with their kids. They call and we hold the spot or they show up and take it. That’s all the beds we could fit in there but I’m thinking of expanding. The men’s dorm is on the other side of the building. Don’t worry, we have security. No incidents yet. Further down,” he leads and you follow him down the clean tile hall. He takes you into another opening that says locker room.
“It’s like a YMCA in here.” You turn looking all through at the rows of lockers with actual locks, the showers, four toilet stalls, four sinks.
“There are 60 lockers, eight showers, eight stalls, eight sinks, two washers, and two dryers.”
“Y'all water bill high.” Looking back to him, he smiles and nods for you to head out into the hall again as you follow him. “This place is nice, if I didn’t have my apartment, I’d try to stay someplace like this.”
“It’s our safe place for homeless kids and families or just people who need a place to be without having to look over their shoulder, wondering where their meal coming from or who’s after them.”
Pausing, you look around and Erik stops. This place is beautiful. He’s even got the babies’ art hanging on the walls making the place warmer.
“Yeah.. You know, I’d actually love to be affiliated with this place. I wanna donate. How do I do that?”
“I’m glad you asked, Nia. Keep walking with me. Let me show you the rest,” he smirks, speeding up as he unlocks a door with his handprint that lights up blue.
“What the hell,” you mutter staring between him and the door.
“Staff only entrance. Extra measure to keep the women safe on this side, if you wanna leave or come in, there’s one way and you gotta get through security, that way you’re only back here if you’re supposed to be.
Through the door is another hall that’s perpendicular to the one you just left. You follow him left and come to a large open cafeteria full of people sitting at tables, eating. Men, women, small children, teens, all black for the most part. There is a sprinkle of darker skin that isn’t black. A mother with three young kids and then an old man.
“How do you get away with only taking black people? Isn’t that 'discrimination’,” you ask with air quotes. Not that you take issue with it, you’re just curious. He laughs.
“When the colonizers come we just tell them we don’t have the space and if there’s an issue we have Donnie escort them out. We don’t get governmental assistance, we’re not required to run how they think we should run. We screen everyone who comes through and take who we think will benefit from our programs.
"Wow, I’m with it,” you smile following him to the food line.
“Gone 'head baby,” the older woman in front of him waves for you both to go ahead. He puts his hand on her back and kisses her cheek and the line ahead happily parts like the red sea letting the both of you through with a quickness. They love him. They genuinely love him. They also all have stamps on their hand. One woman is trying to pull her stubborn toddler aside and out of the way, but Erik sweeps him up and sits the boy on his hip, winking at the woman before passing you a white dish and grabbing two more.
“What you want lil man,” he asks as he goes through each option fixing two plates. One (sausage links, grits, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, pancakes, fruit cup) for himself and one (sausage links, bacon, eggs, pancake, fruit cup) for the kid.
Choosing a table, you sit with your plate (some of everything because it looks good) and Erik follows, sitting across from you with the kid and the two plates.
“I’ll get the drinks,” you offer heading back to pick up two glasses of apple juice, making it to the table before returning for one more glass and three straws. You pass them out and take your seat, mouth watering and ready to eat.
“Bow your head and close your eyes, please.” You lower yours and wait.
“I don’t close my eyes.” He lowers his head and you say the prayer as the toddler reaches into Erik’s plate grabbing one of his sausages. Erik doesn’t look up but he shakes his head with a slow smile and you try to keep from laughing as you finish saying grace.
“Amen,” you snort picking up your fork.
“This why I keep my eyes open,” he points to the kid, shaking his head in humor. He sets the boy in the seat and hands him a piece of his own sausage. Looking over, you see the mom approaching with her plate and an apologetic smile.
“Lord,” she sighs. She’s pretty though she looks tired. “I’m so sorry, he’s a handful, I know.”
“Not at all,” Erik smiles. She sits next to her son and he automatically starts pulling on her, saying “mama, mom, mommy,” just busy, so she pulls him onto her lap to keep him still. They’re both cute and remind you of Lia and her son, Jackson.
“This is Chyna.. and Orion,” he palms the boy’s head playfully. “Chyna, this is Nia,” he nods digging into his plate.
“Hi Nia,” she smiles and you reach out to take her hand, asking how she is. She’s great but ready to eat, she laughs and for a while you all just focus on eating.
“Mommy,” Orion starts and you understand 40% of what he just said. His mom entertains him with hums of “Really? Oh wow,” as she eats, feeding bacon into his hands.
“You here for a job,” she asks looking up and it’s an innocent question.
“I’m here on tour of the facility, just lookin-”
“Nia is an affiliate and potential shareholder. We’re in discussion,” he interrupts.
“Oh okay..,” Chyna’s eyes widen. “So you’re getting a feel of the center. Let me tell you why this place is so important,” she says all humor gone.
“Me and my son have been here for the past few nights.. a few nights before that.. and then maybe a week prior.” She looks to Erik and he nods.
“His father, Rashaad,” she continues, gesturing to her son, “He died last month and didn’t leave a dime. I talked to his family and my family and they told me I could sign over his body and the state would cremate him,” she pauses, still in shock from it. “…But I couldn’t do that…” Tears leak from her eyes and you look around for a napkin. She swallows, her eyes turning pink, and takes a breath. “Then there was the rent.. We hadn’t paid it for the month and our extension was running out,” she sniffs. “Well I had a funeral to plan, I couldn’t let the state take him.”
Orion, feeling her sadness, rubs her face to try to make her feel better and she tries to pull herself together.
“So ah-” she wipes her nose. “I took a chance and contacted the Wakandan International Outreach Center and they not only paid for the burial and the coffin, they sent a representative to the funeral for words of encouragement and I’ll never forget that,” she sighs. Erik keeps his eyes down to his plate.
“See, his daddy.. was a hood,” she continues, eyes dead on yours. You know what she’s talking about. You don’t have to grow up in Cali to have family in the streets. “He was shot out there in the streets in a driveby…,” she sniffs. “And you know.. people like to talk a lotta shit, but even if he wasn’t nothing to nobody else, he was someone to me. I loved him.”
“We’re working on getting Chyna a higher paying job to cover her rent,” Erik interjects giving her time to wipe her face.
“Yeah, they paid the rent for the month and they’re paying next month. I’m taking the class on building a resume now. I’m still working at Ross, I’m just trying to do everything I can.
"You’re doing a lot,” you offer and Erik gestures for you to stand to follow him out. “It was good to meet you and hear your experience,” you smile shaking her hand.
“Thank you, and I’m glad you’re trying to help. We need more people like him,” she points to Erik.
“Shit, don’t boost me,” he smiles. It’s something he’s done a lot since he’s been here and you’ve noticed that his smile is something that brings so much peace and a sense of safety to these people. Still, looking at him you can see deep down there’s a spot in him that isn’t touched. It’s full of rage and intense sadness that his smile can’t cover. If only the peace he provided to all these people would reach him.
yup! When you first came to the opera house wit the other singers Erik didn’t really pay attention. He was more focused on Christine and ruining Carlotta, not that anyone would have minded her gone, but when he first heard you sing he was intrigued. He would sometimes follow you when you were out doing errands for Madame Giry or helping Carlotta with some of the most ridiculous requests, but you never minded and would always hum or sing to yourself. He knew you were trying to get on Carlotta’s and Madame Giry’s good side since Carlotta was to take one of the new recruits under her wing, but everyone knew that person would be an errand girl. and Madame Giry was to take on some new ballerinas. What intrigued him the most, however, was how sassy and sarcastic you were to some of the other girls. He at first thought it was wrong for someone to act like that, but he quite liked your comments and quick-witted comebacks. Erik also was glad that you weren’t too afraid of him. But he wanted to test you first.
When he first made an appearance to you it was in the middle of the night when you were on your way to bed after the last errand for Carlotta. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to go off on him! You screamed, yes, but who wouldn’t scream when someone just comes out of nowhere! But then you just laid it on him. Telling him how stupid he was being all silent and mysterious. It was tan opera house not a damn morgue! Still, when you huffed and asked him if he needed help or anything he was taken aback. No other human being had that reaction to him, and he felt more drawn towards you.
It took a while for him to actually talk to you, but you had nightly meetings with roses he would give you, and a song you would give in return, although most of the time you both bantered and had little sarcastic spats. (which were never offensive of course, he liked you too much) But when his voice suddenly joined together with yours it felt like your heart and soul were flying. His baritone voice was strong and alluring while your alto/mezzo-soprano was soothing and charming. when your voices combined it was like magic itself. As you got to know him you decided to take your relationship a bit further with him, but unlike Christine, you decided to show your affection with a simple kiss on his masked cheek. To say he was shocked is an understatement, after you kissed his mask he took your face gently in his hands and kissed you softly. But nothing else happened after that. He had told you he wanted to wait until you were older since you were almost sixteen. (even he has standards)
As the years went by Carlotta was finally taken out of the opera house and Christine Dae took the lead and you her understudy (you got a lot of the big roles too) The Phantom’s tantrums (yes they were totally tantrums) had lessen dramatically and the opera house flourished. Although he stayed in the shadows everyone knew about him and how you were able to “tame” him per say. It wasn’t until you turned 20 when he asked you to marry him, by then your relationship turned into being romantically involved with each other. Madame Giry wasn’t pleased but she soon came round when she saw the effect you had on him. He had taken his mask off during one of his tantrums expecting you to scream and run, but instead you quickly got a cloth and cold water to clean some of the wounds that were undone. He cried hard that night as you cradled him in your arms cleaning his wounds. He knew right then and there that you were the one for him.
After your marriage you quite literally pounced on him and had your way with him. You had waited patiently all this time and you’ll be damned if you didn’t get some. He obviously didn’t mind not being in control, in fact he quite enjoyed it. He loves that you can be so demanding. The sex was passionate and hot, he knew every inch of your body, what made you tick, what made you go crazy. And you loved it! You also knew every trick to get what you want from him, as well as the spots that render him completely useless against your touch. Your favorite thing was singing together, especially to your child, who totally had Erik wrapped around their finger. Trust me it wasn’t hard. He was so scared that his child would be deformed (although he learned to love it like you did), but you told him regardless of how they look, you would still love them no matter what. (and that right there made him fall in love with you all over again)
A/N: I’m posting this from my phone sorry for the formatting error and shit.
You sat on the porch of Eriks cabin tears flowing down your cheek, you were wrapped in his sweatshirt and a pair of nike shorts. Fuck was it cold and you regretted storming out on him without grabbing a sweatpants. And why did you have to be wearing HIS sweatshirt, his scent enveloped your senses which only made you cry more. This isn’t right you told yourself, this isn’t healthy this isn’t how relationships hare supposed to make you feel. The creak of the screen door snapped you out of your trance and you didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Erik. He walked out and sat down next to you, noticing your shivering body he pulled you closer to him wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You leaned your head against his chest and he let out a sigh.
“This isn’t good for us Erik.” You said between sniffles.
“I love you”
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“I love you”
“I don’t feel like it!”
“What do you mean you don’t feel like it?” Erik pulled you off his chest and forced you to look at him.
“I hate the way you make me feel Erik! This isn’t healthy I-I shouldn’t keep coming back to you after what you do to me. It hurts Erik! It hurts!”
“Y/N you’re just drunk you don’t know what you’re talking about” Erik rolled his eyes at your words not paying you any attention.
You stood up and looked at him.
“We need to break up erik. We need to end this now.. we need a break.”
A/N: I finally got my life together, and wrote some shit. This quarantine been fuckin with me. But I feel good about this on! I’m gonna make this a series, I think. This was requested by the lovely @loveeeeandaffection and I made somethin work and twerk. Don’t forget to comment and reblog, babies!!
Mac Dre is blasting through the speakers of the barbershop, Black men of all shades are bobbing their heads to the beat. Clippers are buzzing while patrons clown and joke on each other, trying to get fresh for the weekend. The bell on the door rang alerting everyone to someone’s entrance, and the whole shop erupts with a chorus of “aye” and “my nigga”. Erik Stevens, 40 pounds heavier, mouth full of gold, defiant as ever with ice in his veins. White teeth gleaming as he shows all the old homies some love, he bypassed everybody waiting to get lined up by Talib, who was too ill with the clippers. Erik was good in every hood and never had to wait.
Summary: You and Erik have a lot of shared history together but because of recent events you’re scared that you’re going to lose your best friend. Maybe he’s still there … behind that red door?
Author’s Note: Hi guyssss! I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated this. Thank you for hanging in there with me! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Much love to you all! Please leave a comment for ya girl! I love you guysssss!
Uneven breathing filled the room. Gasps, moans, and groans echoed off of the white walls. His grip on her hips tightened as he admired her glistening brown flesh. It was almost as if she was melting on top of him. Her full breasts jiggled unapologetically as her long black twists rested on her shoulders and between her breasts. Curses muttered across her lips while sweet words of encouragement left his. Sweat beaded across her forehead as she moved her hips rhythmically on his length fulfilling to her own pleasure. She threw her head back and closed her eyes with an opened mouth. Her eyebrows scrunched while she bit her bottom lip harshly. His hands lowered to her round and supple ass. He smacked her ass harshly and palmed it fully. Breaking her rhythm for a brief moment, she smiled at him wickedly. She licked her lips and slowed her pace. She placed both hands around his throat softly before applying light pressure.
“You like that don’t you?” she quizzed.
“Yes,” he whispered.
She applied another firm but light squeeze around his neck while her pussy clenched on his dick. His moans were music to her ears. She smiled at him and leaned into him. Her breasts now resting on his bare chest.
“You want to make me cum?” she asks while stroking his cheek tenderly.
“More than anything,” he pleaded.
Marie kissed his left cheek and then his right cheek. She lifted his chin towards her face and stared at him intensely. Fully enticed by her sensuality, he didn’t notice her slowly transforming in front of him. She placed her hands around his neck again as her human hands gradually shifted into tree vines.
“Nothing but your death will send me to my ultimate climax.” she spat as she rode him more aggressively. Her long Senegalese twists hovered in the air as she chanted loudly. She watched the life drain from his light brown eyes. The vines continued to wrap around his neck as they tightened more and more by each passing minute. As soon as he took his last breath, her body convulsed on top of his. She took her weight off of the man and stood on her feet proudly.
During the long isolating torturous years, she hunted the Sons of Feu (fire) one by one after suffering the loss of Erik. She wanted to send a message that she was coming back with an insatiable vengeance. She wanted John to know that a great suffering was coming - her suffering. She knew that her son grew in strength, in anger, and basked in death as she did. Her heart ached to know that her son was formally known as “The One Who Consumes Life” mercilessly killing witches. With each witch that was sacrificed John grew in power. But Marie had been growing in power as well and she couldn’t wait to unleash it.
The night that Erik was snatched out of her arms she retreated to her own birthing place. She sought out the oldest oak tree formally known as The Great Mother. The Great Mother resided in The Spirit Valley surrounded by unimaginable beauty. Only Laveau witches had access to the Spirit Valley.
After countless hours of chanting and meditating, Marie magically appeared in The Spirit Valley. Still light-headed from the blow to the head, she stumbled helplessly towards the tree. Feeling herself grow weaker and weaker she collapsed to her knees. She hung her head down in defeat while her fingers gripped the grass beneath her. She exhaled a dramatic sigh that held a vast amount of grief and pity. Gradually, the grass began to glow turning its natural dark green hue to a neon-colored green. The grass grew taller and wrapped around her like a cocoon consoling her physically and emotionally. Unknowingly to her, the grass carried her to the oak tree. The grass unwrapped her gently and planted her in front of the tree fully healed.
She placed both hands on the bark of the tree as tears swelled in her eyes. She admired the many branches of the tree and smiled faintly to herself.
“Great Mother you sent me to the human world for a unique purpose. I’ve never questioned it until today. You told me to love and protect their fragile world but how can I when my heart aches. It mourns - it breaks.”
She pressed her forehead against the tree and sobbed loudly.
“Erik, my Erik!” she cried.
A single leaf fell from the tree and landed on the crown of her head. As soon as the leaf touched her, The Great Mother spoke to her. Her mouth fell open as the oak showed her the horrific future that awaits all of mankind. She saw fires so great that not even the sea itself could quench. Men killing other men and the extinction of all witches. The Great Mother revealed to her that her son would grow in strength and in rage. But only his strength and his rage would be able to save the world.
“Why must he know so much torment? So much rage?” she questioned.
In a loud voice, The Great Mother responded.
“One that knows no pain knows no peace.”
Again, the tree showed Marie another vision. She saw the blade she created specifically for the Sons of Feu being stabbed through John’s heart. Instantly, she saw herself knowing the sweetest most blissful peace alongside her son. But, she would only experience this serenity if she let Erik fulfill his destiny. Marie removed her hands from the tree and backed away slowly.
“Great Mother,” she spoke lowly eyeing the tree humbly.
“Can you show me the true origin of his pain?” she questioned.
Moderately, the bark of the tree carved itself into a face a woman.
“Her name?” she quizzed.
“Marley.” the oak answered.
She raised her right hand towards her face watched a red rose magically appear in the palm of her hand. She placed the flower on top of Tyrus’ body while eyeing his lifeless body on the king-sized bed briefly. Tyrus was the sixth son out of the seven Sons of Feu. She knew that he was only temporarily dead. The only way to kill the blood-sucking demon was by her handcrafted knife that she spelled. John had the original knife in his possession and she possessed its replica. Mere minutes passed and Tyrus awakened in a devilish rage. The vines around his neck burned and melted off of his skin. He sat up abruptly and pointed his hand towards Marie while gathering his breath.
“Show me your true face,” he demanded.
Direct descendants of the Great Mother have the power to shapeshift into any person, animal, or form of nature.
“There’s nothing sweeter than the kiss of death,” she whispered to him slyly.
“Show me your true face witch!” he yelled with flared nostrils. He stood to his feet and approached Marie menacingly.
She grinned at him and waved her finger in a circular motion revealing her true face. Tyrus’ eyes grew wide in disbelief. Without thinking, he charged at her. In a blink of an eye, Marie magically moved out of his way. She snickered and clapped her hands in amusement. Tyrus grunted in anger and used his magic to pin her against the wall harshly.
“My brother’s bitch.” he spat while sniffing along her neck in disgust.
The Feu harvest their power by consuming the blood of witches. Once they consume witch blood they’re able to mimic the capabilities of the majestic beings. Since the beginning of time, that has always been their curse to bear.
Marie watched fangs protrude out of Tyrus’ mouth. As soon as he attempted to pierce her skin with his teeth, she grabbed him by the neck lifted him up towards the ceiling before slamming his body to the ground. She used her powers to keep him pinned against the plush carpet.
“You know exactly who I am and what I’m capable of. So you know your powers are pathetic compared to mine,” she said while flipping her hair.
Tyrus screamed in frustration and squirmed on the floor. She took joy in watching him struggle under her authority.
“You’re going to do something for me,” she demanded.
“I won’t do shit,” he muttered.
“I wasn’t asking,” she stated while her eyes changed into snake eyes. She squatted down beside him and ran her tongue against the side of his cheek tauntingly.
“Shit, it turns me on seeing you struggle like this.” she continued.
“John is going to kill you,” he said laughing hysterically while still struggling for freedom.
She stood upright walking away from Tyrus with a switch in her hips. She pulled the blade that she spelled from underneath the mattress.
“You chose those words to be your last?” she questioned while pointing it to his neck.
Tyrus remained silent.
“Very well,” she said before stabbing Tyrus in the neck. Screams of agony filled the room mixed with her ever-growing cackles. After watching Tyrus die she transformed herself into a blackened crow and flew out of the opened window in the bedroom.
Erik casually followed John into his lavish mansion. His his gold chain shimmered in the dim lighting off of his neck complimenting his flawless melanin. His short dreads dangled on his forehead wildly. He was dressed in an all-black even down to his shoes. He lazily plopped on the couch and turned on the tv. He watched John walk upstairs swiftly. He noticed John didn’t seem like himself but he decided to ignore his curiosity.
Moments later, he heard John screech a deafening scream to the top of his lungs. He rose to his feet quickly and ran up the stairs fully coming to his aide. He saw John sitting beside Tyrus’ dead body he witnessed one tear gliding down his cheek as he looked at Erik hopelessly.
“Marie has been here,” he whispered to him.
Before Erik could answer, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and read the text.
“Hey Erik, I know things haven’t been ideal for both of us lately. Maybe we could use a night out? I feel silly about sending this. But anyway, my coworker Giselle invited me out. Maybe it will be fun. Let me know.- M”
Title: I Like That Pairing: Erik X BlackFemale!Reader Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2
summary: just uh….hide your purse aight?
(author’s note: uh, …so…um…it’s been a while right? very sorry about that but it’s here now and I already know how i’m ending it so that’s great. …this part is written in erik’s pov cause that really helped me break the block i had on it. …I hope you enjoy it. only one more part to go.)
He knew he had fucked up. She wouldn’t even look at him and had
scooted as close to her door as she possibly could. He mentally cursed himself
and his ego. He wasn’t even sure why he had snapped at her so hard. What she
said was fundamentally true and she had the right to speak on what she knew
first hand, but it must have been the mixture of David, her being so mad at
him, and the fact that her blow had hurt that had him acting up.
AN: OK so while I try my best to write Destiny part two, Ima give yall dis. While i don’t love the fic the idea was stuck in my head and the idea was ready to get the FUCK ASAP. Destiny two I want to be up the 15th at the latest but please bare with me, online school is just starting and this shit is for da birds. Anyway enjoy mwah
Summary: A simple books girl has caught the new kings eye.
Pairing: Erik x reader
Warnings: cussing, mentions of death, normal shit. I didn’t have anyone proof read this!! So sorry in advance for any errors.
Word count: 1,438
Suggested listening: For Whom The Bells Toll - J.Cole
T’challa was dead. No sugar coating the fact that he died right in front of you, Shuri, The Queen Mother and the rest of Wakanda. Died wasn’t the right word, he was murdered, in a fair fight nonetheless, he was killed in ritual combat for the throne. As soon as his body was thrown off of the cliff the royal family was rushed away, presumably in order to make sure they weren’t slaughtered too. That was the last time you’d seen Shuri, Nakia and Queen mother alive, you were never overly fond of them but you had had quite a few conversations with Shuri and the Queen Mother was known to hang around you during her off periods, but you just chucked that up to your occupation. You were the most recent one in your family to take up the family business, recording and knowing all of the history of the past kings of Wakanda. After your father’s sudden death you took up the mantle; from two months before T'Chaka’s death to the beginning of T’challa’s regin. Guess it’s not going to be too long of a chapter in the history book given the most recent turn of events. As you turned away from the fight it dawned on you, you could run like them and choose to not write this into Wakanda’s history and allow someone else to do it. But you decided not to. You were loyal to the throne no matter who was on it.
there will be more, but i also have requests for other characters i write for as well as my own ideas that i won’t say 🤐
anyway, hopefully i release one or two this week; includes requests from months this ago (your girl finally isn’t hitting her head against hard surfaces because her senior year is over) & requests that i received from quarantine.